The sun beat through the open windows in shaky beams of heat, raising the temperature of the classroom well above that which a human could be reasonably expected to endure. For some reason, I had steeped myself in the delusion that, in the midst of a literal heatwave, the school’s air conditioning would kick in and prevent its students from weathering the fires of hell.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Author’s Note: The start of a new volume, I hope you all enjoy, and be sure to let me know what you think!
Though his eyes were closed, Sariel’s vision swam with light, a swirling expanse of unearthly bright that drowned out the effectiveness of his other senses. In an effort to forget the present, he had decided to remember the past, and was stretching his focus to the outer edge of his consciousness and beyond, into the unknown reaches of thought, of time.
He traveled back, and found himself at the beginning.
Author’s Note: One of the most action-packed chapters so far, and also the finale of Volume 3! I hope you all enjoy!
They weren’t hard to find–by the time that I made it to the park, the strange sensation in my center that I had come to associate with Asher was strong enough that it probably would have been hard for me not to gravitate towards him–and, after minutes of feverish running, I stopped, panting, in front of the park bench.
Asher and Ayame were sitting closely, looking out over a small, dark pond, when I arrived. Although I felt a momentary sense of embarrassment at interrupting them, it didn’t last long, considering the fire-covered creep had already nearly reached us, throwing various slurs in my direction while charging forward.
Immediately upon noticing my presence, the pair stood up, turning towards me with pretty intense levels of surprise. Not that I could really blame them–how often is your quiet evening in the park interrupted by a flaming maniac chasing a girl with huge sword at her side?
Ayame didn’t speak again as she led me outside, although, after a certain point, she did let go of my wrist, obviously believing that I wouldn’t be straying away any time soon. Even after she released her grip, the pressure of her touch didn’t disappear immediately, and I glanced at it as I shook it out.
The air outside was growing cool, and as we waded through the nearly empty sidewalks and streets of the neighborhood, passing by silent houses where dim light escaped through short, square windows, reaching into the darkening street and casting large, straight shadows on the ground. At one point, as we passed a house with a high, smudge-covered white fence, my ears were assaulted by the muted bark of a local dog, but aside from that, the night was silent, the background noises of the town fading into each other and leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Author’s Note: Some foul language in this chapter, just to warn you!
As the man stepped toward me, burning holes in the grass, steam rising from his skin, the air around me shifted from mild to stifling in an instant. His eyes, even more than the surrounding area, blazed, seeming to bore a hole straight through me as they locked with mine, a dangerous smile playing on his lips.
I tried to move, desperately, but something in his demeanor, his appearance, his very presence, kept me from doing so, and I remained rooted to the spot as he approached. Before I knew it, he was no more than a step away, leaning forward and extending his face over my right shoulder, his skin emitting waves of heat towards my face as he took a deep breath.
“Ah, you can see me?” he said, his voice normal aside from a deep, dark undertone of clanging metal that rang below the basic tenor of his vocal chords. “Isn’t that a surprise? You humans don’t usually catch me, once the taking’s complete.”
Trying to ignore his use of the word “humans” as a group separate from him, I gulped and, after a moment of concentration, managed “Who are you?”
My ceiling got really boring after about the first twenty minutes of staring at it and, looking for practically anything to do to pass the time, I found myself laying on my stomach on my bed while trying to sink a ping pong ball into a plastic cup on the opposite side of my room.
It wasn’t easy, but I was in it for the long haul–a tub of at least one hundred and fifty ping pong balls sat on the floor next to my bed, half empty with its missing contents scattered about my floor, and I hadn’t given up yet. Holding up what I hoped would be my lucky ball in front of my right eye, I stuck out my tongue and aimed, lobbing it forward.
The ball sailed through the air in a beautiful arc, coming down straight over the opening at the top of the cup, before shifting ever so slightly, bouncing off of the rim and rolling unevenly under my dresser, where it would most likely spend the rest of its life.
“Ugh.”
After getting home from school, I headed to my room immediately, throwing my bag on the rumpled sheets of my bed and searching for something to do to occupy my time until I headed to the library with Ayame. After cycling through reading, doing my homework, studying for class, watching TV, and playing video games–all of which, for some reason, couldn’t seem to hold my attention for any more than twenty minutes–I ended up downstairs in my kitchen, glancing occasionally at the ticking clock while sipping some water.
As I sat at the wooden table in the center of the room, tapping out a simple beat on the surface, I heard a soft “clink” behind me, and turned to see my mother standing at the sink, washing off a plate she must have just been using. I returned to my resting position, and resumed my erratically-tempoed rhythm.
“What are you doing?” my mom asked, her voice ringing above the dull thuds my fingers continued to produce. Although she had started with a single dish, I guess she had decided to take care of the remaining dishes in the sink. While she scrubbed away the remnants of the omelet I’d had that morning, she looked at me expectantly.
Author’s Note: Sorry about the delay, hope you all enjoy!
My first thought when I woke up, alarm beeping softly in the periphery of my consciousness, was that my shoulders and arms had decided to rebel against the rest of my body, ready to detach at any moment. As I regained the presence of mind that came with wakefulness, of course, I realized that they were just sore, but by that point, I would have preferred the former.
The struggle to get myself out of bed was no joke, but somehow, I managed, and went through my normal morning routine in a general haze brought on both by my lack of sleep and the fact that I had just woken up. Before I knew it, I had gotten myself ready for school, and bought myself about thirty minutes before I had to head out of the door and begin the day.
Without thinking about it, I drew back my curtains and glanced at my front yard. Of course, no one was there–Cat and Miller had already let me know that they wouldn’t be able to walk to school that day, as they had work to do with their club and, while it struck me odd that the ultimate frisbee club had any activities to take care of at seven in the morning, I decided not to question it.
Author’s Note: First chapter of Volume 3! Hope you guys are enjoying the story so far!
He stepped out of the mist and into a large courtyard where, surrounded by an impenetrable fortress of thick-trunked olive trees, the angels congregated, pausing in their flux between the world of man and the world of the divine to rest, to find, to learn.
It felt like years since Sariel had last set foot in Paradise and, recalling how quickly the passage of time flowed in the world of mortal men, he realized it probably had been.
As he stepped forward, according to custom, the angel shed his earthly form, revealing wings long-kept hidden. In this world they shone, a soft light as thin as mist spreading out above his shoulders in a nebulous form, weighed down only by the consuming darkness present at their own edges.
Author’s Note: Volume 2 is officially done! Hope you enjoyed, and we’ll move onto Volume 3 shortly.
We held our weapons high as they burned through worlds, forming from nothing, changing to suit our hands. The weight of my bat altered, becoming heavier and, strangely, familiar. My fingers closed around the hilt as if I had done it a thousand times before.
I looked down just as the light reflected off of the dark blade, nearly blinding me, causing me to look away immediately.
But I had seen it. And, more importantly, I felt it.
By the time we reached the soldiers, we no longer held a bat and a broom. Somehow, beyond all reason, we held swords.
In Our Image 