Chapter Thirty-Nine #2
“I see it.” He looked again at the demon, who was paying him no mind, pressed as close to the barrier as he could get without burning.
“We should head out before it gets dark,” Severin called, craning his head to the sky. “If we hurry, we might be able to make it to Veritas by morning.”
“And spend another night being hunted in the woods by whoever else despises you?” Aurelie smoothed back her hair, frizzy from the mist. “We should make camp for the night and set off at daybreak. What safer place is there to spend the night than on hallowed ground?”
“Perhaps for you,” Severin hissed.
As much as Yuri ached to get as far from this place as he could, Aurelie was right. They needed rest, especially if they’d soon be returning to Rhovar.
Assuming, of course, this cure actually worked.
The weight in his chest eased as they crossed back outside the barrier. He’d left the wings behind, lined neatly in the soft moss beneath the trees as Severin fought to get a better look.
Vex fluttered to meet them, circling once around Aurelie’s head.
“I don’t suppose there’s any food around here?” Aurelie asked the vesper, grimacing as her stomach gave a pitiful whine.
“Try not to think about it.” Yuri moved past her, distracting himself by hunting for dried twigs. “We’ll find you something soon.”
She groaned, though hunger was a foreign concept he struggled to imagine. Angels didn’t need to eat. That wasn’t to say he didn’t enjoy it, as meals had the benefit of aiding energy and recovery. An angel would heal slower if they were famished, and no Soldier wanted to be caught unawares.
Still, it was a benefit to never get hungry or have to experience that pain.
They worked in silence, searching for any wood that had survived the rain.
It took an hour to find enough, and by the time they returned there was food laid out for them on the rocks.
Tiny berries and mushrooms, as well as sparse handfuls of nuts.
Meager supplies, though from Aurelie’s gasp, one would think she’d been given a feast.
The Luminels watched from the distance, pleased by her eagerness.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she sang as she divvied up the small meal.
“You really are saints.” She brought Severin his portion before moving back across the barrier with Yuri and settling beside him on a fallen log.
She shut her eyes and made the symbol of the Divine just as he did, and both of them froze when they opened them to find the other moving in perfect unison.
Aurelie stared at him, her surprise softening into something warmer as she burst with laughter so infectious that he found himself joining.
“I suppose we modeled our practices after the Divine a little too well,” she teased, plucking a berry and popping it into her mouth. “You know, it feels good being with you like this. You remind me of home.”
She said it as though the admission were simple, yet the words struck like an arrow loosed straight into his chest.
Home.
He couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked to him and seen comfort instead of a weapon, and by the Light, he hadn’t realized how much he’d hungered for it. It reminded him of those fleeting moments he’d spent wishing to be a Guardian.
The sudden warmth in his chest left him reeling. He watched Aurelie, happy as she ate, the waning sunlight setting her skin aglow. The sight pulled him back hours prior, to seeing her wet and bare-skinned, water cascading down her figure.
The memory unsettled him as much as it entranced.
He wasn’t meant to notice a human in this way. Wasn’t meant to find himself so enthralled. Yet with her laughter still in his ears and her words echoing in his chest, Yuri found himself powerless.
He had to distract himself from the hastening of his heart, abandoning his food in favor of starting a fire. He turned every ounce of his focus onto striking stones until the sparks caught, then coaxed the flame with the bundle of twigs.
The routine steadied him. He watched as the fire quickly grew, smoke curling into the trees. At least with the barrier, they didn’t have to worry what would happen if anyone saw it.
Yuri took a seat beside the fire, the warmth a welcome contrast to the awful rain they’d left behind.
Aurelie set her boots near the fire to warm; her cloak was missing.
He caught himself staring as she rubbed her hands together, chapped from work and cold.
A few stray sparks jumped in the air between the two of them, crackling.
“Don’t you think it’s odd that there are so many wings here?” she asked tentatively. “They’re angels. How could so many of them be corrupt enough to cast out?”
Severin snorted, the sudden reminder of his presence jolting. “That’s what I’ve been saying all along.”
Yuri ignored him, though the demon wasn’t necessarily wrong. “It has nothing to do with whether they’re corrupt. In fact, I guarantee most of them aren’t.”
“Then how did so many get here?”
“All it takes is being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The angels live by oaths—break one, and they’ll cast you out without a second thought.”
“But surely they can be merciful,” Aurelie challenged. “There have to be exceptions.”
“There aren’t.” He didn’t like that he could feel the demon’s eyes on him, prying him apart. “I’ve seen angels get cast out. Friends who’ve gotten themselves swept up in one thing or another and lost everything.”
“Imagine turning on your own kind like that,” Severin scoffed. “And you truly think angels are the good guys.”
That was the problem. Yuri didn’t think that. But neither did he agree that demons were any better.
He shifted, dragging a thicker piece of wood onto the fire and watching it catch. The light danced across Aurelie’s features, casting exhausted shadows beneath her eyes.
Immediately, he felt guilty. She was his bonded, and he was doing a piss-poor job of taking care of her.
“We should get some rest,” he said. “It’ll be a long journey back. We’ll need to find a wagon if we’re to get these back to Veritas.”
Aurelie nodded, the hopefulness she was trying to quell apparent even without a bond. There was no use getting excited until they knew the cure would work. Still, they’d made it this far, and anticipation thrummed within her.
She brushed her hands off on her skirts, grimacing when she felt how damp the ground still was. “It’s going to be a cold night.”