Chaser of Faith

“Well, good morning,” the stranger said smugly.

“Who are you?” I asked, trying not to let my fear show.

The dark angel before me had striking platinum blonde hair and warm honey hazel eyes. He wore dark brown pants and a navy blue shirt. He wore no shoes. His skin was tanned giving him a youthful glow, though he looked to be in his late thirties or so. I sat up, my blood chilling as I felt the weight on my back still. I flexed my shoulders testing the new sensation, my fear probably apparent now.

“You didn't have those yesterday,” he noted. I realized he had an accent. It was like nothing I had ever heard. His consonants slurred together and his vowels were over-pronounced. It was almost comedic.

“What the hell are you talking about? I've never met you before. Who are you?” I repeated.

“I watched you.” My skin prickled with goosebumps as he said that. He held up a hand and twisted it pointedly downwards. “You fell from the sky.” I let my shoulders relax.

That isn't so bad, I suppose.

“I tried to find you but you were already deep into the woods.” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.

“Then how did you find me?” He shrugged, like it was obvious.

“You screamed at night. I heard.” He smiled again, picking up a piece of paper from the ground beside him, showing it to me. “I found this so I knew that you did not speak Sanen.” He was holding my dictionary. I felt anger flood my mind. I tensed my hands, until I remembered my broken hand. I looked down quickly and realized it was completely healed. The angel continued to speak as I stared at my hand. “And I can smell you are not Nythiat, even if you have our wings. Are you a god?” I snapped my gaze to him.

“Who are you?” He stood up, shrugging again. He walked towards me, tossing the paper down to me. I took it and stuck it with the rest of my belongings, all of which, I noticed, were still there.

“My name is Eae.” I frowned, giving him a face.

“Yay?”

“E-ae.”

“Yay.”

“E-ae.”

“Eae.” He nodded finally.

“Yes.” I rolled my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes. When I opened them again, Eae was standing in front of me, holding a clear glass bottle with a clear liquid in it. And he held a basket with a folded cloth nestled in it. I looked at him quickly, narrowing my eyes again.

“What is this?”

“Water and bread and fruit. You tell me your name now.” I sighed.

“How do I know you didn't poison the water, or something?” He frowned.

“Why would I do that? I could have done anything to you while you slept, but I didn't. Did I?” My blood chilled again. He was right, though. I took the basket and placed it next to me. I took the bottle and opened it quickly, placing the open top to my mouth. But, before I started to drink, I looked up at him.

“My name is Claire. Thank you, Eae.” He smiled at me and wandered back to his place on the other side of the fire

I started drinking quickly. The water was so clean and delicious. It lit up my mouth, throat, and stomach. I finished the bottle in moments. I tore open the basket and started scarfing down the bread. It was covered in a floury, sugary powder. The inside was spongy and sweet. The fruits in the basket were foreign to me, apart from a com, which I recognized from Adriel’s lesson at breakfast the other day. I ate greedily and finished soon. What fruits I could not finish, I layed on my cloak to take with me.

I stretched my back a bit, unaccustomed to the aching weight of my new wings. I wanted to look at them. What color were they? How did they get there? How did I get rid of them? I craned my neck around. My lungs squeezed out any breath I had in me.

White wings.

“Oh my god,” I choked out. I turned back, staring blankly into the still smoking fire pit with a slack jaw and tight throat.

“You didn't have those yesterday,” Eae said once more. I didn't say anything.

How…

“So this is new for you?” I looked at him, nodding slightly. He shot me a sick grin. “How does it feel?” I glared.

“What do you want? Why don't you leave?” He tilted his head.

“You want me to?”

I didn't say anything.

“What's the quickest way to get to Beythas?” I asked after a few moments of silence. He laughed.

“Fly north. Half a day, you can't miss it.” I winced.

“And walking?” Eae raised his eyebrows, jutting his head forward in surprise.

“You would like to walk? You can walk for three days?” I rubbed my eyes with the palm of my hand, taking in a deep breath.

“I don't know how to fly,” I admitted. I felt a weird sense of déjà vu but I didn't dwell on it. The angel waved his hand dismissively.

“Easy. No problem.” I bit my lip.

“I mean, these wings probably aren’t even permanent. I’ll fall out of the sky. Did you heal my hand?” My words were quick and nervous. Eae raised an eyebrow.

“Why would I heal your hand? Nothing to heal.” I frowned deeply, my eyebrows furrowing tightly. “Oh that is quite a face.” I put my face in my open hands.

“What the hell,” I muttered to myself.

I didn’t feel any different. All I felt was the weight. Did my hand heal on its own?

“Why do you want to go to Beythas?” I did not let my face relax.

“None of your business,” I fought childishly.

“Should stay here,” he retorted. I sighed and pushed myself up off the ground, and almost falling backwards, unbalanced. I bent down and put everything back in my pockets, save for my coins. I counted out 50 hass and pocketed the rest. I trudged over to Eae and held the money out to him.

“Thank you for the food,” I said shortly. He raised an eyebrow, eyeing my hand. He darted his eyes back up to me. He stretched his black wings out widely, circling his shoulders.

“I do not need this.” He stood up, and I stepped back quickly, tensing. I felt my wings flick with surprise. Did they have a mind of their own? Would I feel the ghost of them for the rest of my life when they finally went away?

“Please take it,” I said, not meeting his gaze. I held my hand stiffly in front of me still, looking down at my outstretched fingers. I could feel his stare on me.

“I never thought a god would give me an offering.” He put his open hand next to mine and I dropped the coins onto his palm.

“It’s not an offering,” I muttered. “It’s payment.” I turned away, walking back around the fire to my cloak. I wrapped it up and tied it into a makeshift bag again, putting my fruit in and slinging it over my shoulder. Eae was standing by the smoldering sticks with crossed arms.

“Are you running away?” I pursed my lips.

“No.”

“Who was the Nythiat?”

“Nobody.” I scanned my campsite quickly for anything I might have left behind. There was nothing left apart from Eae’s basket filled with the empty glass bottles.

“Are you really going to walk the whole way?”

“I have to. Which way is north?”

“Keep following the path back there,” he said, pointing behind me. “Quarter of a day, you will reach the border to Ythe.” I started to turn to the path, but stayed put for a moment, turning to him. His hazel eyes shone, even in the shadows. The sun behind him reflected his hair. If not for his black wings I would have felt comforted by his presence. “I can come with you,” he added. I shook my head.

“Thank you for your help, Eae.” He grabbed my shoulder as I turned once more.

“Be careful,” he said gravely. I looked at him one last time. He looked serious and concerned. I brushed his hot hand away.

“I am.” I adjusted my cloak-bag and finally started on my way back to the path.

-*-

“You have got to be kidding me,” I growled.

Eae had failed to mention the fork in the road when he was giving me directions. There was a path leading straight on, and a path veering off to the right. Each path had a sign- written in Nythen, I finally decided when I could not find the translations in my page dictionary- to inform travellers where each one would take them.

The obvious choice was to keep going straight. So, that’s what I did.

I tried not to get angry. At least I was out of Rath.

He told me it would be about three days of walking- if I took the night to recuperate. I wasn’t tired, like I had been yesterday. I had been walking for hours and hours by now, and the sun would be setting soon, but I wasn’t tired. I wasn’t really even too hungry. The food that Eae had given me that morning still kept me full.

I looked up to the sky, barely visible through the treetops. The sky was still a light blue color, but I could tell by the lack of sun that we were getting nearer to the end of the day. I felt my wings flap, and I looked back down to the ground, hurrying on my way.

I couldn’t fly. I just couldn’t do it.

These wings weren’t real. In fact…

Tonight, I’ll make another fire. And once I light the match again and turn my back to the fire, the wings will disappear.

A part of me knew it was a ridiculous long-shot, but I was so riddled with fear that I smothered the disbelief. This would work. Because I was human. I didn’t have wings or magical healing powers. I wasn’t special, I was just… Claire. Claire, the orphan. Claire, the alien. Claire, the thief.

I collected sticks on my journey, along the road, piling them into my bag. I saved my fruit for tomorrow, and the day after. Hopefully I would reach the city by then.

By the time the sun was set, I had found a safe space for my campsite and had set up my firewood. I reached into my pockets and laid everything on my open cloak. I struck one of the matches, staring at the flame with hope and anticipation. My stomach turned with anxiety. I lit up the fire, and licked my dry lips, waiting excitedly for the wood to catch. The fire built up in moments. I let out a long breath and turned my back, letting my skin meet the warmth of the fire. I waited… And waited. And waited.

I cleared my throat as my excitement faded. It was swiftly replaced by despair. I swallowed a hard lump in my throat but couldn’t help myself from crying. I let out a hard sob, and buried my face in my hands. I laid down onto my cloak, pulling my knees up to my chest. The ground was hard and cold. I had to press my wings into my back so that they wouldn’t catch in the fire. I cried for what felt like forever.

What if this is irreversible? I thought. What am I?

I felt freakish. Unnatural. Monstrous. I didn’t want these wings. I didn’t want this life. I didn’t want to be on this planet anymore.

I just wanted to go home. Why couldn’t I just go home?

What had I done to deserve this? I had never hurt anyone. I always did my best in school; at work. I loved my mom and helped her as much as I could. What had I done to find myself in such a pitiable state?

I certainly wouldn't be able to go back to Earth now. I could never go home again. I had no home, no family, and now I had these things. I could never go home again.

I was homeless.

Was that why I wanted to go back to Beythas?

I had wanted nothing more than to leave, and now that I'm away… Why am I going back? Why am I bothering?

I wiped any last wetness from my face, sitting up and turning to the fire. I kept my knees against my chest, hugging my arms around my legs and resting my chin on my kneecaps.

I wasn't ready yet. I still wasn't ready to leave Rahmiel, Nicholas, Remy… I even missed Adriel a little bit. I just needed more time to get my bearings. Just a little more time.

I looked up to the sky. The fire casted an orange glow on the tree branches above me. The dark sky was open above me. The stars shone bright, giving me a melancholy feeling. I was on my feet before I realized it, my wings spread apart wide.

I flapped my wings once, twice, three times- my body was hovering above the ground now with each gust of wind I created. I touched back down to the ground, breathing heavily. My stomach turned with fear.

I hated heights. I hated flying.

I looked into the flames, contemplating the solid, steady ground beneath me against the changing, uncertain sky above me.

I flapped my wings once and kicked off the ground, jumping and working my wings faster and harder as I rose into the sky. The width of my wings barely cleared the tree branches. But soon, I was above the forest, looking out at the vast space around me.

I was flying. I was flying.

It felt different, being able to fly on my own. I didn’t have to trust someone else- I was in control.

The control I felt was liberating. As the cool wind met my skin, I felt chills run down my spine and goosebumps raise on my arms. Across the sky, I saw no movement, other than the treetops rustling in the wind and the grey clouds gliding through the darkness above me. I took comfort in the solitude.

My mind whirred quickly. My heart was pulling me upward but my mind was pushing me back down to the ground. I looked down, and slowed my wing speed, lowering myself shakily back through the branches. Once I finally touched down, my legs shook furiously. My arms and shoulders shook and shivered from the cold. I sat down by the fire, warming myself. My teeth chattered. I hadn't realized how cold it was up there. It was far warmer down by the ground.

I took a good look around me. Did I really want to walk for days? Did I really want to walk when I could fly there in half the time? It was so much easier than I thought it would be…

When I had finally warmed up again, I stood up quickly, not wavering with the extra weight and feeling more balanced now. I put everything into my cloak-bag and slung it across my shoulder and chest. I almost threw the matches in the fire. I swallowed hard, rubbing my thumb over the matchbook before shoving it into my bag as well. I kicked some dirt onto the fire and kicked off the ground.

It was time to head home.