Guardian: The Guardian Part 12

75 green bottles, standing on the wall...

I see the fallen creature from the corner of my eyes lift off the ground and rush towards the golden winged angel running towards him. The two clash hard when they meet, soaring up out of my view, before they appear again before me, scuttling fast towards me, and I have to fight against my every instinct not to edge out of their way.

They scuttle past me barely a hair's breath away. Their searing body warmth intensified by their fighting scalds my skin a little. I keep still however, to my surprise. I must have greater resilience than I ever knew. I lean back, resting my hands flat up to my elbows behind me, staring straight ahead, with my head c.o.c.ked. A lone tourist, enjoying a beautiful view.

There are 15 green bottles standing on the wall, I am singing, with my eyes shut against the warm sun when a jolt of shock runs through me.

The image of unfamiliar narrow green eyes stare straight into mine. No, they stare into my soul. I know it is not real. It must be a projection in my mind from one of the angels. One I have not met yet, for I do not remember seeing those eyes before. He seems to be in pain, desperate to get away. When I open my eyes, I try not start, when I stare into soft brown eyes. I daren't react, blinking slowly, it could be a trick.

One of his wings is broken, hanging limply at an odd angle. He has so many fatal slashes across his body, which are bleeding profusely, I'm surprised at how he could still be alive. His face is swollen, and there are varied dark shades across it from the blows he must have received. The feathers on his wings are soaked with blood, dripping to the ground in steady droplets.

"Wow, you are a phenomenal actor. I almost believe you can't see me here in front of you, Caroline!" Ariel exclaims. I smile up slowly at him, my whole being itching to go to him, comfort him in the poor state that he is. I reach out a hand to touch him, but he shakes his head at me, wincing a little at the pain the movement evokes.

"I have had years of practice, ignoring ghosts and weird supernatural creatures since I was a child. They get very chatty and are obsessive stalkers once they realize that I can see and hear them," I whisper instead, barely moving my lips. Incessant talking is my go to shock therapy.

He chuckles at my answer, but I see the pain etched across his face that he tries to hide. My hand still itches a little to do something for him - he must have noticed it.

"Stay still, until the others scour the area to ensure that none of the fallen are left in these hills. I have to stay close to you to mask your Essence," he finishes, before dropping the rest of the way to the marshy ground. It must have taken his all to fly to me, judging by the gravity of his injuries and the ragged way he breathes.

I know Raphael said that angels are immortal, but Ariel appears to be dying! I fight every instinct of mine not to edge over to him, and roll his head to the side so he can breathe better. What could hurt this formidable creature so terribly?

My question is soon answered when three angels entangled in each other come scattering again into my view. It is impossible to tell who is fighting who, but I recognize the silver pair of wings, and the unmistakable bronze wings that are just as virile. The owner of the peac.o.c.k like blue-green majestic wings seems to be at a great disadvantage, fending off futilely the sword serves coming at him.

Another angel of night black wings swings into the scene in my eye scope, stopping just in time with his sword resonating with a loud vibrating clang, against a powerful sword swing from Raphael. The two then break off from the other two, edging closer to Ariel and I. Ariel tries fruitlessly to get up onto his knees, but he quickly collapses into a helpless heap again on the muddy ground. My head is screaming at me to help him, drag him out of here, but the warning he gave me wins over my will.

Raphael and the dark winged angel roll close towards us on the flat plains, locked into each other, their swords in their hands. They appear to be of equal match, each countering the other's attack.

Uriel on the far left seems to be overpowering the blue-green winged angel, who is still fighting back hard, though having dropped down onto one knee.

I just manage to see Raphael swing a fatal blow, hacking the black winged angel's neck, and his head lolls forward in response. I stop my gasp when the dark-winged angel manages to just whizz past the silver colored wings and fly away in the speed of lightning, his head still hanging from his side, his neck spouting out blood jerkily like the chickens whose necks my African grandmother severs with a sharp cleaver for dinner when we visit.

He quickly flies out of my vision, Raphael hot in pursuit.

I am in so much shock, that I almost miss the amazing Uriel, with her stunningly exuberant bronze wings spin at lightning-fast speed, over three dozen times around the blue-green winged angel who has now fallen onto his two knees.

The blur of her figure moving at dizzying speed finally draws to an abrupt stop. The captured creature is twitching fruitlessly, with his arms appearing to be tied fast against his side and his large wings tied together against each other, spread out but immobile behind his back. I watch her take a powerful swing with her sword against the back of his head, and I shut my eyes despite myself, to avoid witnessing the horrific execution.

When I finally manage to force my eyes open, It's to see Uriel flying expertly towards us, dragging below her the blue-green winged angel, his head still firmly attached to his neck. Though from the look of it, he appears to have been knocked out. She had probably hit him with the flat of her sword. The thought eases my tension a little. I am glad she is not a cold blooded killer.

She drops the angel onto a b.l.o.o.d.y heap a few paces from me, and with great concern, reaches out to Ariel, pulling him to her and cradling him in her hands.

"Ariel..." I catch before she develops into a string of comforting words in their language, rocking him back and forth against her bosom.

The gesture is unmistakable. She loves him deeply. Tears stream down her face, blending in with the blood that is trickling down from her various injuries.

The image before me is so heart-wrenching, that I cannot help it but begin to crawl towards them. Without even turning to look at me, Uriel lifts her palm upwards gesturing I stop where I am with the hand that is cradling Ariel against herself, her other hand still holding firm onto the silver like thin ropes binding the unconscious angel. She is the very depiction of a deadly warrior and a helpless lover all in one.

I know deep inside me that I have never met with a more beautiful and perfect creature. Soft and delicate, meeting raw hard steel smack in the middle, and blending in together as though nothing simpler has ever existed.

I have to struggle with all my might to stop staring at her adoringly. I hero wors.h.i.+p her, more than I did Mulan as a little girl, and I want to be just like her with every fiber of my being.

If I'm to believe what Ariel and Raphael told me, I looked into her soul, saw her character, and granted her what I thought was a befitting image that reflected what I saw in her soul.

Uriel looks like what a grownup Mulan would look like, a real life one of course, not the animation character. As a child I was obsessed with Mulan, dressed up as her for most Halloweens, had my room filled up with Mulan posters, bedsheets, and pillows. So when I looked into her soul, I must have seen everything I wished to be, as Mulan happens to be everything I wished to be as a child. I might have outgrown my childhood, but I clearly never outgrew my childhood hero.

A few moments later, silver wings appear before me, and before I can make out what is happening, my face is pressed against a broad warm chest as we fly through the crisp clear sky.

I make out the powerful out spread bronze wings by our side, cradling Ariel's body tight against hers, and her other hand holding on onto the surprisingly strong thin ropes snaked around her captive. What a beautiful painting it would make, if captured well!

When we suddenly change course, the powerful silver wings flicking ever so lightly but unmistakably powerfully, my disloyal body once again becomes aware of the hard warm body pressed against mine.

I then start to sing my nursery rhyme in my head once again.

There are 99 green bottles hanging on the wall..

After what feels like a half an hour or so of flying, we land on the edge of a high cliff illuminated by the bright sun ahead. The beauty around us is emphasized by the large water ma.s.s below that extends far out to the horizon.

My feet feel like jelly and can barely stand on their own, so I am grateful for the stabilizing hand that the Archangel keeps snaked around my waist.

"Raphael, help him!" The cry is uttered in their strange language by Uriel's melodic voice, but the words' meaning registers in my mind because Raphael's warm hand is still holding me steady.

The loss of his body support and heat is instantaneous, and I fall onto the ground gracelessly like a sack of potatoes.

No one pays me any heed however, as I watch Raphael place himself beside Uriel, who is now seated on the ground again, in the same position as on the rice fields; one hand around her lover's body, and the other holding tight onto the ropes of her prisoner.

Ariel is completely immobile now, not even his chest moves, and I immediately fear for the worst. I watch Raphael lift his hands, and place them over Ariel's chest.

The searing heat that pa.s.ses through them is so hot, that I can feel it radiating towards me. The air begins filling up with the heady sweet Essence that I have become an addict to.

"Caroline, absorb the Essence. We don't want our position to be detected by the fallen. Quick, keep it in!" Uriel calls, not averting her face from Ariel.

"How?" I ask, my voice croaking.

"Like you did at the epitome, right before you transfigured us," she calls impatiently at my question.

I daren't question her again. I have a vague idea of what she means though. So I push my head backwards, close my eyes and inhale deep and long, letting the Essence fill me up.

I inhale it all continuously, not letting any of it leave me, until I feel my head begin to float, as the intoxication settles in me. I have never inhaled so much of it before without letting go, and even as I get closer to pa.s.sing out, and my world begins spinning fast around me, I keep pulling whatever is left of it in the air, until nothing is left.

I know my eyes are partly opened, for some light is seeping in through them, but I cannot make out anything anymore.

My head is now jumbled with incoherent thoughts, my muscles completely give way and I crash backwards onto the ground below, my knees still folded under me from my awkward stumble when Raphael had let go earlier.

Chapter 17.

"Caroline?"

That's my name! I think to myself groggily.

There's an energy pressing so tightly against me, begging to burst out, threatening to tear me up when it manages to get out, but I don't let it. I press my lips tightly together, fearing it could escape as a gasp. I daren't breathe, afraid that it might just escape when I exhale. I concentrate hard at holding my breath, until my head starts throbbing, and my muscles begin to spasm involuntarily. Is the Essence attempting to rip out through me? I think hazily. Not today. Uriel said I was to keep it in. My eyes start rolling to the back of my head, and something moist foams in my mouth.

"Caroline?" I hear my name being called from miles away. I then feel my body being gently lifted off the ground. My eyes push open further, staring into the jumbled images before me.

Images, hazy and indeterminate, dance before me. Images of pure colours, brilliant browns and golds, blues and bronzes, blacks and greys, silvers and whites. But most dominant of all are the swirls of blue, azure blue, right before me.

"Raphael." I mumble groggily, trying to lift my hand to touch the beautiful swirl of colours, but my hand falls back listlessly midway. It just feels too heavy to lift it again, so I give up.

"Caroline!" A distant voice calls impatiently.

I close my eyes, and wait a moment before prying them open again, and this time my vision is clearer.

I look around me through the slits between my heavy eyelids, seeing the rocky walls enclosing around us. I try to warn him, to tell him that the walls are closing in, but I can't work my mouth.

I give up on warning him about the walls that are about to crush us, close my eyes again, and instead concentrate on absorbing the intoxicatingly sweet Essence in the air just like Uriel instructed.

Someone is shaking me, calling my name, and pumping at my chest, trying to force me to open up. But I do not let go. I hang on with every ounce of my being. Uriel said to keep it in.

Searing heat is trying to find its way inside me, but I don't let it. If I let anything in, I might let the Essence out by mistake, and Uriel said to keep it in...

A hard smack lands on my face with so much force, jerking my head to my left so fast that the wind is knocked out of me. The wind, and something else. My insides are painfully raw, as I rasp after air, but when I try to swallow it in, I choke. I can feeling my chest burning, and spots of red and black are swimming in my head.

Oh G.o.d, I can't breathe! I think in panic. Only managing to take a larger gulp of air that once again chokes me. Someone lifts me slightly, turns me, and a slap lands between my shoulder blades, forcing me to cough and spurt out whatever was choking me and constricting my throat. Spasms rock my body, and involuntary twitches take control of my body as the first gulp of air makes it through my constricted airway.

A hand is supporting my chest, and another is rubbing my back gently, urging me to breathe. My sharp intakes for air and the spasms keep rocking through my body as I slowly recover. My eyes are pressed tightly shut, and they feel wet around them. Have I been crying? I pry my eyes open, but all I see is darkness and the stars continue dancing in my head, the swirls of colours now gone.

Slowly my vision clears, and my other sense too, for I begin to hear voices, at first their words indeterminate, and then they begin to come in focus. They are spoken in a strange tongue, but I understand them.

"Why can't you heal her?"

"Because she isn't ill or hurt against her will. She was doing it to herself willingly."

"But why?"

"Why? You ask why? You told her to!"

"I... To avoid detection... I did not mean that..."

"You should have told her to take as much as she could handle!"

"I am sorry..."

"We could have lost our only chance to going back home just because you..." I do not bother listening anymore, and instead concentrate on inhaling in and out without choking.

Good to know that I almost died saving their lives, and the only thing they care about is how I am the key to their home!

I start blinking slowly, and try to focus on the floor below me. It is a stone floor, dark, but a small beam of light is coming from somewhere.

Is that..? I catch a glimpse of the edge of blue-green wings lying on the floor, further to my right. I keep inhaling, in and out, slowly. My eyes focus some more, and I note that we are in some form of stone tunnel that goes on further in front of me, disappearing into a sea of darkness.

I become more aware of the hand holding my chest, stopping me from collapsing onto the hard stony floor below my face. The hand, whose fingers are splayed over my small b.r.e.a.s.t.s under my jacket..

d.a.m.n!

There were 99 green bottles standing on the wall... I sing while staring at the floor below. Is that blood? Am I bleeding? What is that white froth below? Was I foaming in my mouth? Ew! How s.e.xy of me! I think sarcastically, flexing my fingers slowly.

The two are still talking above me, and I know if I concentrate I can understand them. I do not want to though, for my head is throbbing. When I feel confident enough to try, I lift my hands tentatively, wanting to touch my face.

"Caroline?" I hear Ariel call with worry.

Ariel? Was he not dying a few minutes ago? But then I remember Raphael had been healing him, expending too much Essence in the process. That was why I was asked to absorb it. That is how I ended up in this situation.

The hand on my chest, pushes out a little more, propping me upwards, and I catch eye of Ariel's long lithe body stretched out on the edge of the stone wall, looking much better and stronger than I had last seen him. Though his body is still bruised and spattered with dried blood, I see no open wound. Uriel, that is crouched by his side, cradling his face in her bosom, rises quickly but gently. She glides over and stops to hover beside me, bending over to look into my face.

"I am so sorry, Caroline," she cries in English, emotion etched across her face and in her eyes. Yeah, so sorry that she almost killed her key home, I think to myself, but stay quiet.

"You don't know how much you scared us!" I stare back at her unblinking, and she manages a sad smile. "You are so brave. Now that I know how obedient you can be, and I'll watch my words next time." A low growl of displeasure comes from a head above mine, and she turns to face it.

"I am really sorry, Archangel," she says in their strange tongue, before turning her face towards mine again. She takes out a long hanky from a pocket on her hips, and begins to dab at my face. I have no idea how she could fit such a large hanky into that pocket, considering how well-fitting that combat suit is.

Raphael lifts me effortlessly and settles me a moment later gently beside Ariel. My head, throbbing painfully and still feeling too heavy for my neck, plops forward. Raphael's warm fingers lift it again, and leans it against Ariel, before flying off down the darkened tunnel.

Uriel crouches before me again, and continues wiping my face with the handkerchief gently, remorse etched across her face. Part of me is dying to tell her that it is okay, but the other part of is glad that one of these creatures is miserable for my sake.

Raphael comes back a few minutes later, stopping right before us.

"It's clear," he says to Uriel, before lifting me into his hands. Uriel picks up Ariel and her prisoner effortlessly on either of her hands, and follows Raphael through the dark tunnels. Just ahead I can make out the bright light getting close, as we advance.

We fly in into a brightly lit widened cave at the end of the tunnel, which is in fact a well-furnished, majestic looking apartment, for a cave underground.

Raphael is gentle as he drops me onto a plush white leather couch. As for Mr. Peac.o.c.k however, he has a whole other thing coming. I watch Uriel place her hand on a spot on the golden-illuminated stone walls, and a large vault-like door swings open, revealing a solid stonewalled cell inside, into which she throws him roughly. He lands with a hard plop on the rock-hard floor, before the door promptly shuts behind him, and once again the plain chiseled stone walls stare back at me.

I watch as Uriel walks up to Ariel, who is seated on the armchair by the fireplace. Placing one of his hands over her shoulder for support, she helps him up and leads him through another door to what appears to be a brightly lit bathroom. I am left seated on the couch, dubbing at my nose, which still has dried blood stuck to it, with Raphael by the fireplace, stroking it to life. He then sits opposite me in the armchair Ariel had occupied a few minutes ago, and we remain so in silence.

I feel very uncomfortable. Not surprising considering all that had happened in the past few hours; my body's reaction to his that had irritated him, my near death experience due to a misunderstanding, my nose bleeding and spewing of white foam from my mouth.

I daren't hold my face up to meet his eyes. I can just imagine how terrible my face looks! He already showed me how much I revolt him when I had been clean and not looking too shabby, I can't bear to imagine just what he is thinking about me right now, looking as terrible as I do.