Airel by Aaron Patterson, C.P. White Page A

the sunrise.” Kreios grimaced. “Thank you.” He struggled to remain standing. He placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, leaning on him for support. 
    Kreios wiped the blood off the Sword, sheathed it, and slung the scabbard over his shoulder, keeping the sword tight and snug to his body. 
    Zedkiel placed much wood on the fire, which began to roar lustily. Then he cut up the bodies into pieces so that he could burn them. As Kreios helped his brother with this grisly task, he could not help but feel like something was amiss. He could not place the feeling, but something was not right.
    Kreios walked out the front door and looked up at the clear night sky. The air had a bitter quality. The sulfuric smell of the fuel now burning on the fire did not help matters. He listened for the sound of horses. Maybe he would be able to discern, by straining his ears, the approach of the Brotherhood coming to finish the job. The village still slept and did not know what had just transpired. It was better that way. 
    “I believe they only sent two of them. It would have been an easy kill if it was not for the Sword you carry.” Zedkiel stood in the doorway and searched the sky with his deep dark eyes. The night was still and calm, completely clear. The stars illuminated the valley in resplendence and it reminded him of another age. 
    Kreios did not like knowing that he had brought the demons there. His problems were not his brother’s. In his haste to save his daughter, Kreios had put the whole family at risk. “I fear you will have to move away from Gratzipt. They know you are here now. They will send more.” Kreios knew his brother would refuse, but he was compelled to speak the truth, no matter what his brother might say.
    “I cannot remove us from this life. We cannot rebuild again. Maria could not endure it, especially now. The child is nearly here and we have a good life in our little village.” He paused, and the moment was heavy. “No. We will wait and set snares to protect ourselves. With you here, with the Sword, our strategy can be adjusted. We do not need to run.” 
    Kreios said nothing. He was sure that his brother would see how the decision to stay would rain down hellfire upon all the innocent villagers, punishing them for daring to live next to angels who provoked battles with the Brotherhood. 
    He turned, walking back into the house. Kreios knew his brother would not listen to wisdom just now, so he decided to drop the subject. He wanted to be sure his baby girl was still snuggled in safety.
    Kreios found Maria sprawled crookedly in the corner on his brother’s bed. “Zedkiel!” He called to his brother as he ran to Maria. Zedkiel came quickly and they sat her up, cautiously. She began to sob, moaning with her head in her hands. Kreios jerked his head to where his baby girl was sleeping. He rushed over and pulled the skins back. 
    She was gone.
    Maria sobbed and looked up at him with grief in her eyes. “They took her, there were four of them! Two went after you and the other two left with the child. They would have killed me as well, but ran with the baby when they heard you.” She had red puffy eyes and her face was wet with tears. Kreios wanted to scream. He filled with rage as a knot bound up the pit of his stomach. 
    “I tried to scream when they took her but they struck me and everything became dark. I thought I was dead! Oh, Kreios, I am so sorry!” Kreios went to her and embraced her. He was glad that his brother’s wife was alive. She would bring Zedkiel a child soon and it was by the grace of God that the Brotherhood had not killed her.
    Kreios stood, malice flashing in his eyes. “I must go. They want me. They will not harm her as long as I am alive!” It was a pleading prayer. Kreios hoped it was true, but deep down he suspected he would never see his daughter again.
    Kreios took a sling and filled it with some barley cakes and then quickly grabbed a skin for water. He waved off