Chapter 2
Uriel woke to the quiet only available in the dark hours of the early morning. He stared into the dim room and caught movement from the corner of his eye. He turned his head and found the cuffs gone, as well as most of the tubes tying him to the machines. Only the fluid drip remained.
A male seraph approached, form delicate in that way that Raphael wanted his healers to be, but his hair was a fiery red. Strange.
“Hey,” the seraph whispered as he approached quiet as a mouse. “How are you feeling?”
Uriel licked his lips, finding his throat dry and sore from the vomiting, but the hunger remained. “Hungry,” Uriel said.
“Have you eaten anything since your Fall?” The seraph asked.
Had he? Uriel’s mind churned slow and sticky. “Fall?”
“You’re guardian class, old school. I can tell. But you’ve got some red and orange in your hair, tan skin. Mortal hunger and vomiting don’t happen to the non-Fallen.” He glanced away, looking uncomfortable. “Not everyone chooses to Fall. Do you remember yours?”
The memory of a roaring beast flickered through his mind and then vanished, leaving his head throbbing, without adding clarity. He winced; the pain sharp for a few seconds before fading to a mild ache.
“It’s okay if you don’t remember. Do you know your name? You’re labeled as Joe17. But I can update your chart to your real name. Everything here is recorded on paper. They save the energy for the machines. My name is Wade.”
“Uriel,” Uriel said, his voice rough.
Wade’s eyes widened. “Uriel? That’s not a common name among seraphim, right?” He glanced away as if looking for another seraph to confirm, but they were alone. “I’ve not met any other Uriels yet.”
Uriel gazed at him for a few seconds trying to understand the question.
“There’s a seraph, old school healer class, who’s been looking for a Uriel.
You wouldn’t be him, would you?” Wade studied him.
“He didn’t give a description, other than saying he might be guardian class.
But the Fall takes a lot of us in varied directions.
Someone who might have been mixed before the Fall can go one way or the other. ”
“Who?” Uriel asked. Was someone looking for him? He caught a flicker of the face in his memory again, but couldn’t latch on to the image.
“Maybe no one. Could be a coincidence. Let me get you a bowl of broth. We’ll start slow. Do you need to use the bathroom?”
Heat flooded Uriel’s cheeks. The ache in his lower body suddenly made sense.
Wade understood. “I’ll help you up. The first few times are a little strange, but instinct kicks in. We were designed this way as a reflection of humanity.”
“Sorry,” Uriel apologized. He struggled to stand, his limbs trembling like jelly. Their trip to the bathroom took a long time and resulted in Uriel having to change clothes and get a brief wash from the gentle seraph. “There’s no mirror?” Uriel asked.
“Not in this ward. The change is hard on many seraphim. It’s better to let them recover physically before working on the mental portion of their transition.”
“Am I ugly?” Uriel asked. His heart lurched in fear that he’d be hideous and everyone would run from him.
He could feel the weight of his wings resting in the ether, ready to be called.
That he still had them was a comfort, even if he didn’t know what sort of dark beast he’d turned into.
Did he look like one of Morningstar’s creations? Or something else?
Uriel’s headache intensified.
“Not at all,” Wade assured him. “Your colors are beautiful. Most of us are used to seeing white wings and uniformity among the seraphim. Some find it… overwhelming. I am of the few that came willingly. Who wants to be in that stuffy celestial place anyway? All that bright light and no color. It should be filled with life but feels as somber as a tomb.”
“The celestial plane didn’t change?” That wasn’t right, but Uriel couldn’t remember why.
“Well, I never encountered it before the catalyst released the darkness, but I’d have thought there would be rainbows and music,” he shrugged.
“Pretty things like flowers. They don’t let the Fallen stay.
It’s why you’re here. Once we Fall, we end up there and they kick us back out.
I guess they don’t like our colors muddying their big white world.
” He settled Uriel back into his bed. A dozen more beds stretched across the room, empty.
“Are there no others?”
“Not right now. Some have been released already. They find their place among the humans, healing, protecting, some learning other trades. There are a few in confinement as they haven’t handled the adjustment well.
” Wade pulled the blanket up over Uriel.
“Get some more rest. You’ll need a few days to ease the disorientation. ”
“Can you find the one searching for Uriel?” Uriel asked. “Maybe they know me.” Someone had to know more than he did. “This world looks very different from the last one I remembered.”
“Yeah? Do you remember anything significant about that world?”
“Rainbow trees,” Uriel said. Pain slammed into his brow and he winced.
“Don’t force yourself to remember. The migraine can last a few days.” Wade clicked off the few remaining lights. “I’ll get some meds added to your IV. Sleep. Let your mind remember at its own pace.”
Uriel sighed. He wanted answers, but when he closed his eyes, the pain eased. More rest. How much rest could one seraph need?