The Tears of Time

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Blinding white light erupted into the air, silent thunder which ripped outwards unparalleled in strength, deafening every observer, and sending Lucifer tumbling backwards. Observers struggled below, briefly incapable of sight or hearing. An acrid taste spread through Raphael throat, as if all moisture had been stripped away with the blast.

“Ella?” he croaked, her name a dagger that ripped unmercifully at his throat.

A figure hung immobile in the air. Elanor, but once more changed beyond human ability. Tears tried to well up in Raphael’s eyes, but his body was drained of liquid, and they merely prickled uncomfortably. The grief grew in his throat instead, a physical block which blocked off his speech, and threw him into painful sobs. Had he lost her again?

“Elanor!” he cried out silently.

The creature in the air heard his silent plea and swept its gaze over to him. Recognition spread across her face, and its terrible blank look softened to a sad smile Raphael had often seen paralleled in her mother. Elanor stayed still no longer, flying fast to where Lucifer lay, shocked by the blast.

“Do you yield?” she asked mercilessly, the double-edged sword cutting into the flesh at his neck.

“Never,” Lucifer croaked, glaring. Elanor raised an eyebrow and drew her blade back over her head, ready to swing at him.

“No!” Raphael cried, embracing her raised arm passionately, regardless of the sharp blade. Elanor looked up surprised, her reptilian black eyes blank again.

“Ella, I’ll not allow this darkness to turn you into a killer!” He cried, forcing her to look at him with both hands on her face. Something flickered across her face, and she sighed, long and hard. Annoyed that Raphael should point it out to her, when she so desperately wanted to hate him at the moment.

“You escape this time Lucifer,” she whispered, “One month.”

Lucifer spat, disgusted at the last-minute withdrawal, at their feet. Blood mixed with the spit, and he coughed sourly, leaning over on his elbows to retch.

Elanor smiled grimly, then turned heel on both him and Raphael, flying away into the sky. Raphael left one lingering look with Lucifer, then left too, following her into the distance. They crossed back into the Realm of the Immortal separately, Elanor metres ahead, not looking back to see if he followed. He cast a look back at the Halls; a dim smudge on the horizon, then followed her through the veil, welcoming the freshness of his own Realm. The heavy weight that had dragged continuously at his soul there fell away, and he revelled in the sense of rebirth.

Then he saw Elanor, lying limp on the ground below, her face drained and eyes glassy. Her eyes had returned, but with the return of her mortal frame, Elanor seemed to be suffering the deadly blow she’d received minutes ago.

“Elanor!” he cried, swooping on her deathlike state, “Elanor, speak to me. Please, move a hand, do something!”

A soft moan escaped her lips, making him shiver. He looked around, desperate for help, then picked her up swiftly, flying as fast as was possible without jostling her. The citadel seemed miles away, though he knew it was only a five minute journey it took forever. Ella lay limp in his arms, struggling to breath. He talked as they flew, reassuring himself as much as her. He flew over the top of the citadel, spotting Gabriel and Dina walking through a courtyard hand in hand.

He cried out, attracting both their attention, Dina’s eyes widened as she saw Ella. She half ran, half flew to where he had landed, helping him to lay her gently on the floor, crying out to Gabriel to fetch a healer.

“Elanor, can you hear me?” she asked, taking her wrist to check the pulse. It beat faintly against her fingertips, irregular, fluttering fast like a bird’s wings.

“Raphael, I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, pushing Ella’s shirt up to check the wound, but finding nothing. Only the bloody stain remained to tell of its existence.

* * *

Elanor remained in her deathlike state for two weeks, floating between consciousness and a death-like coma state. Raphael stood vigil over her bedside, only leaving to go to the bathroom, eating little. At the start of the second week, Raphael was sleeping whilst she woke. Ambriel sat across from him, and noted the flicker of her eyelids.

“Elanor?”

“What happened?” she croaked, lips parched.

“Here, drink some water,” Ambriel said, “What do you remember?”

“We went to warn Lucifer…” Elanor whispered, after sipping the water, “He challenged me, and then, everything goes blurry. As if I’m watching a bad film, cut up and edited into a nonsensical order.”

“You fought Lucifer and won, but somehow the wound you sustained, although it healed, still effected you. As if your mind still felt it was there,” Ambriel explained.

“Oh,” Elanor sighed, “How’s Raphael?”

Ambriel motioned to Ella’s left, where Raphael slept curled up in a wicker chair, his face still tense with worry. Elanor shivered at the sight of him, the fear curling tightly in her stomach again, like an uncomfortable parasite which had taken up lodging inside her.

“Sleep,” Ambriel ordered, mistaking the look, “He’ll be there when you wake up again.”

Elanor nodded, slipping back into restless dreams, replaying through her hectic past. End visions were replaced by softer childhood memories, which calmed her mind more than any medicine.

Raphael woke up, frowning at the sight of Ella still asleep.

“She was awake a moment ago,” Ambriel whispered.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Raphael asked, aghast.

“You would have distracted her,” Ambriel answered, not rising to Raphael’s anger, “She needs to sleep.”

“Distracted her?” Raphael muttered, glaring from his chair.

“Raphael, I’m not blind, I know something happened between you,” she said, folding back the curtain from the window, letting a little soft light fall into the room. Raphael stayed quiet, watching Ella’s sleeping face, which seemed to have regained some of its colour.

“Is it that obvious?” he asked after a while.

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t stress her, she’s only young,” Ambriel warned again before leaving.