was bred in this fire. This is nothing for him. As Zephyr speeds through the barriers with his precious cargo, my heart and soul breaks apart. I hear a sizzling sound like the spilled water on camp fire saying “ she’s here master! ”
The booming voice responds and sounds a lot closer “ do not harm her . Yet ” says the voice amused. “ Not until I get what I need from her . ”
Death is now welcome since all I ever loved is gone and safe. Fire sizzles around me inching its way and yet unable to reach me. Lava meeting the ocean, its fire put out.
“The half-breed is here master! She’s protected!” sizzles the fiery voice.
“My key to heaven...” says a positively gloating thunderous voice. “Her father’s and husband’s Achilles heel... Elissa Cassandra. I am so pleased to meet you at last. Unfortunately it will not be a happy circumstance for you,” he says taunting me. I can’t see his face. The aura surrounding me is getting to be a duller shade of light blue, thickening.
He opens up his wings and the gust of wind coming from his wings tries to push the smoke into the aura, my fragile protection. “We can’t get to her master. Either a sinless hand must capture her, or she must willingly surrender herself to us...” sizzles the voice.
“Where is her Achilles heel?” booms the voice, his wrath evident.
“Gone, master...” sizzles the fiery voice meekly.
“Aaaaargh!” booms the dark winged angel, and slams his fist on to my aura as if to break my shell; vibrations created by his punch runs in large waves around me. The end is near. I close my eyes, trying to find my happy place. “This is for my love...” I whisper, and dark wings furls around and turn back at me, “Love, is an overestimated emotion! You are fated to suffer the anguish of love, and your ultimate fate, death by sacrifice to open the doors for your betters! You will not achieve immortality! I will no longer be Fallen once your blood is spilled or smeared ! ” he bellows ferociously as his size grows five times bigger and his foot is on its way to crush me under its enormous size, his intent clear.
I close my mind to everything, unable to move, lying on the floor, resisting, but my heart is finally serene knowing that all the people I love are safe and away; they won’t see me in the moment of my death. My eyes closed I whisper, “I love you Alexander! I love you Agnes and Jill! I’ll always love you...” I whisper.
Then it happens: wind ruffles my hair unexpectedly, and I feel as if someone is yanking my body out of hell by an invisible hand, hands maybe. I scream. I hear nothing at first, not a single noise, not a word, just darkness, the feeling of falling through the empty space, and the wind, just the wind. I’m cut from all my senses. Is this death? Then my senses come back to life in a rush, I hear more screams. No physical pain, but sharp aching of my soul and utter, excruciating sorrow piercing through my heart. This is worse than death, worse than nothingness. Then I feel being pulled in a wind tunnel. Wind all around, whipping, rustling, gentle, lulling. The pain of loss is dulling, but the ache is still piercing, emanating like electric shock, and ripping my soul into small shreds. The face of an old Pueblo man emerges with bottomless eyes, and deep wrinkles. Do I know him? I think I know him. One feather hangs from the left braid of his hair. The eyes which have seen too many years are marked with deep lines. And from his ears dangles what looks like two earrings too heavy for his ears to carry. I can see it all in this windy haze. His too thin lips are tightly closed. His slanted nose must have been broken a long time ago, and didn’t heal correctly. His Pueblo headband wrapped around the crown of his head twice is tied in a tight knot on the left side of his head. A faded poncho is covering his torso and whipping quickly in the wind. Then he opens his thin lips and speaks to me in a sad melodic
The booming voice responds and sounds a lot closer “ do not harm her . Yet ” says the voice amused. “ Not until I get what I need from her . ”
Death is now welcome since all I ever loved is gone and safe. Fire sizzles around me inching its way and yet unable to reach me. Lava meeting the ocean, its fire put out.
“The half-breed is here master! She’s protected!” sizzles the fiery voice.
“My key to heaven...” says a positively gloating thunderous voice. “Her father’s and husband’s Achilles heel... Elissa Cassandra. I am so pleased to meet you at last. Unfortunately it will not be a happy circumstance for you,” he says taunting me. I can’t see his face. The aura surrounding me is getting to be a duller shade of light blue, thickening.
He opens up his wings and the gust of wind coming from his wings tries to push the smoke into the aura, my fragile protection. “We can’t get to her master. Either a sinless hand must capture her, or she must willingly surrender herself to us...” sizzles the voice.
“Where is her Achilles heel?” booms the voice, his wrath evident.
“Gone, master...” sizzles the fiery voice meekly.
“Aaaaargh!” booms the dark winged angel, and slams his fist on to my aura as if to break my shell; vibrations created by his punch runs in large waves around me. The end is near. I close my eyes, trying to find my happy place. “This is for my love...” I whisper, and dark wings furls around and turn back at me, “Love, is an overestimated emotion! You are fated to suffer the anguish of love, and your ultimate fate, death by sacrifice to open the doors for your betters! You will not achieve immortality! I will no longer be Fallen once your blood is spilled or smeared ! ” he bellows ferociously as his size grows five times bigger and his foot is on its way to crush me under its enormous size, his intent clear.
I close my mind to everything, unable to move, lying on the floor, resisting, but my heart is finally serene knowing that all the people I love are safe and away; they won’t see me in the moment of my death. My eyes closed I whisper, “I love you Alexander! I love you Agnes and Jill! I’ll always love you...” I whisper.
Then it happens: wind ruffles my hair unexpectedly, and I feel as if someone is yanking my body out of hell by an invisible hand, hands maybe. I scream. I hear nothing at first, not a single noise, not a word, just darkness, the feeling of falling through the empty space, and the wind, just the wind. I’m cut from all my senses. Is this death? Then my senses come back to life in a rush, I hear more screams. No physical pain, but sharp aching of my soul and utter, excruciating sorrow piercing through my heart. This is worse than death, worse than nothingness. Then I feel being pulled in a wind tunnel. Wind all around, whipping, rustling, gentle, lulling. The pain of loss is dulling, but the ache is still piercing, emanating like electric shock, and ripping my soul into small shreds. The face of an old Pueblo man emerges with bottomless eyes, and deep wrinkles. Do I know him? I think I know him. One feather hangs from the left braid of his hair. The eyes which have seen too many years are marked with deep lines. And from his ears dangles what looks like two earrings too heavy for his ears to carry. I can see it all in this windy haze. His too thin lips are tightly closed. His slanted nose must have been broken a long time ago, and didn’t heal correctly. His Pueblo headband wrapped around the crown of his head twice is tied in a tight knot on the left side of his head. A faded poncho is covering his torso and whipping quickly in the wind. Then he opens his thin lips and speaks to me in a sad melodic
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