Cruel Angel's Thesis

4

LAENINGAR

THE TERES KINGDOM

Sheyir sat on a low, flat rock, dangling her feet in the still water of the pond. It felt cool between her toes and gave her a momentary distraction from her frustration. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when her father announced Sheyir’s forthcoming betrothal to her uncle, but it did anyway. She had many uncles, but it seemed as though she would have to marry the most repulsive one. Unfortunately, her father didn’t have much say in the matter; such things were dictated by the customs of her people. Nevertheless, she wasn’t comforted by this. It only made her angry to think about the fact that there wasn’t another option. Someday this would all seem more bearable. Someday … when she had given up hope for something different.

But now was not that time. Now, she wasn’t able to bear it. And the feel of the water wasn’t able to dispel her feelings. In fact, the whole valley felt different today. The trees around her looked strange and dull, like the life had been drained out of them. Had something happened, or was it just her own situation that had changed? Since she was a child, she’d been coming to this place to be alone and to sing. But she didn’t feel much like singing now.

As she glanced around at her surroundings, something on the edge of her vision caught her attention. Sheyir turned and looked up, noticing something strange about the trees just a few paces away. She squinted, but the perplexing vision only intensified. One section of the forest seemed to bulge outward as if she were looking at it through a dew drop. The subtle green and brown hues of the vegetation slowly separated into bands of more intense color. She watched, fascinated by the beautiful but unexplained event.

And then, it was there—a massive, winged creature hovering in the air, facing away from her. Sheyir was instantly paralyzed with fear and the only thing she could hear above the powerful beat of its white wings was the pounding of her own heart.

The creature pivoted slowly toward her as it descended to the earth. When its human-shaped body touched the ground, the feathered wings, dappled with bands of gold and reddish-brown, came to rest. If it hadn’t noticed her presence before, it did now with large, deep-set, animal eyes, blue in color. The prominent eyebrows gave it a look of intensity, as if it was able to see into her very soul. Its face and head were covered in white, shaggy hair, swept back from its large, sharp nose as if blown by the wind. But the rest of the creature’s tan skin was hairless.

Sheyir willed her body to move, but it was frozen in place, melded with the rock beneath her.

The creature, whose body seemed to be made entirely of muscle, took a step forward.

Sheyir instantly grew cold while her face flushed. Even though it stood a stone’s throw away, it seemed as though the creature’s vast wings could reach out and encircle her.

Instead, the creature retracted them and tucked them behind its shoulders.

Suddenly, Sheyir felt control of her body return. Without pausing even a moment to make sense of the situation, she fled in terror. As her bare feet dug into the wet sand of the shoreline, she could almost feel its breath on her skin. In her mind, she could still see those giant wings and knew that it would take but two thrusts for the creature to catch her. But she ran anyway, blind with panic.

The thick foliage of the trees slapped her face and body as she finally reached the forest, feeling instantly safer among the confined space that would inhibit flying creatures from attacking. She kept running until she couldn’t breathe and her legs wouldn’t move any longer. She stumbled and fell into the mud. Crawling now on her hands and knees, she wondered why she hadn’t already been taken from the ground and carried off into the sky. Risking a look behind, she was surprised to see nothing.

The creature was not there.

She looked up quickly, expecting to see it descending upon her, but neither was it in the sky above. In fact, there was no sign of it; only the broken reeds and bent blades of grass disturbed by her passage. Her lungs burned and her heart raced, obstructing her ears from hearing signs of pursuit.

Where is it?

Sheyir stood motionless, her chest heaving, for what seemed like an eternity. Slowly, her heart grew quieter and she thought she could hear something. More seconds passed and the sound of singing drifted to her. It was the most clear, brilliant tone she’d ever heard. Increasing in volume, it pierced the air and rumbled the ground beneath her feet, all at once. What was more startling was the melody—a song she used to sing as a child.

How could it know? What does it want?

Slowly, the vines parted on the other side of the clearing.

Sheyir remained still, too exhausted to run any longer.

From between the broad leaves, a man stepped through into the light. Even at this distance, she could see that he was several heads taller than she. Only a tattered white loincloth covered his tan skin. His white, shaggy hair and beard were unmistakable. Though smaller and without wings, she knew it was still the same creature.

“Please don’t go, Sheyir,” he said in her language. “I’ve come a long way to see you.”

She backed away carefully, feeling more cautious than afraid now.

How does it know my name?

The man, the creature, extended its hand toward her in a pleading gesture.

Sheyir stepped slowly backward into a tangle of thick vines until broad leaves blocked her vision of the strange man. Immediately, she felt shielded from the power of his gaze. Her body was her own once more. Turning, she ran toward her village as quickly as her legs would carry her.

KRUTHEL

The midmorning sun was bright, making the dew on the grass sparkle. The elders and most of the inhabitants of Kruthel were gathered in the center of the village, watching Enoch and his family from a distance.

Zacol slid a leaf-wrapped bundle of nuts and dried berries into an already full animal skin bag. “There,” she said as she lifted the bag and hung it across Enoch’s shoulders. “That should keep you for a few days. Then you’ll have to gather what you can along the way.”

“Thank you,” Enoch replied, trying to make eye contact with his wife. She was doing her best to ignore the implications of this journey. But he didn’t want her to keep silent. He wanted her to voice her frustrations so they wouldn’t gnaw at her while he was gone.

“They look more curious than anything,” he offered, looking over her shoulder at the rest of their tribe.

Zacol looked up suddenly with her head tilted. “Of course they are. What did you expect?”

Enoch squinted. At least she was talking now. “Nothing, I guess. But I hoped that someone would show concern. They’re just standing there.”

“Maybe they want to give you some time alone with your family.”

Enoch shrugged his shoulders.

“We’re making progress,” Zacol assured him.

Enoch looked down and rubbed the scars on his wrists, permanent reminders of what he’d endured over the years. How far he’d come. “And now I’m leaving.”

Zacol’s head dropped. Her voice lowered to a whisper. “When you come back, we’ll just have to start over.”

Enoch quickly placed his hands on Zacol’s shoulders. “I will come back. And we will start over.”

Zacol looked up again and her red-rimmed eyes were starting to well up. All she could do was nod her head.

Enoch shifted the weight of his bag and looked over to his son, Methushelak, who was hunched over in the grass nearby. The boy was always fascinated by the creatures crawling through the soil.4

“You still haven’t told me where you’re going.”

Enoch grinned and looked back to his wife. “You still haven’t asked.”

Now it was Zacol who smiled, and tilted her head. “Where are you going?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he continued, enjoying the brief moment of humor amid the heavy circumstances.

Zacol waited with raised eyebrows.

“In my dream, I was above the land, like a bird of the sky. In the distance, I saw a tall mountain. And I could see the land between here and there, and where the water was situated. The mountain was the one I’ve heard described by people who’ve passed through the land of Nowd.”2

“Nowd? Why would He send you to those murderers?” she asked, looking more worried than before.

“Their forefather was a murderer,” he corrected. “That doesn’t mean all of them are.”

Zacol’s face softened. It was obvious that she didn’t want to spend their last minutes together in confrontation.

“And besides,” Enoch continued. “My message is not for them.”

Zacol’s eyes narrowed. “Who is it for, then?”

Enoch looked up to the sky. The mist was keeping low to the plains today, and the deep blue overhead was unusually clear.5 “I saw the stars fall from the sky. I saw the Children of Heaven abandon their home and come to ours. And I felt His heart breaking …” he replied, trailing off as he remembered the waters of the abyss rushing across the land.

Zacol’s eyebrows rose quickly. “Has this already happened?”

Enoch was silent for a moment. “Some of it has happened and some is yet to come.”

Zacol turned away and shook her head. “And what are you supposed to do about it? Tell the Children of Heaven to go back? Warn the Haragam? Can any of it be changed anyway?”

Enoch cringed at his wife’s use of the derogatory term for the Kahyin tribe. Even though their patriarch had murdered his brother, Enoch refused to believe that any person or tribe was above another. The Kahyin were simply lost, prevented from knowing the Holy One by the guilt of their forefather. And as much as Enoch’s own tribe would hate to admit it, every human was descended from the same father and mother.

“I will tell the Children of Heaven what the Holy One has shown me. I don’t know if I can prevent anything. He asks only for my obedience in following His voice.”

Zacol’s eyebrows smoothed until she wore a blank expression.

It was difficult for Enoch to make others understand what he had been learning his whole life, and what he was only now starting to comprehend. It had always been this way. Ever since he was a child, people treated him differently because he could hear the voice of the Holy One. Many thought he was crazy. Others said he was a liar. Some even wanted so much to deny the presence of the Holy One, that they resorted to violence to keep Enoch from speaking the truth. Zacol was the only one who listened. The only one who truly believed.

“How long will you be gone?” she asked softly.

Her beauty was radiant this morning. Her black, straight hair moved slightly in the breeze. Her dark brown eyes, normally intense, were softened by her emotional brokenness.

“I don’t know,” he said softly. With resignation, he added, “As long as it takes.”

“Ahva, ahva,” came a small voice at his leg.

Enoch looked down to his son who was holding something up for his father to see.

“What is it?” Enoch asked, bending down.

“I found a rock,” the boy answered.

“Methu,” Enoch said, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder, “you’re going to be a strong man someday. But the most important thing is, if the Holy One speaks to you, you listen to Him. Do you understand?”

“Uh huh. See, it’s from the moving waters, but I found it in the grass.”

Enoch smiled and stood up.

Zacol’s eyes were filled with tears again. “We’ll miss you. Please come back as soon as you can.”

Enoch slowly wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her close until her head was resting on his chest. He tried to savor a moment that certainly would not come again for a long while. “I will, my love,” he whispered into Zacol’s ear.