Chapter 120: 120
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Something flickers amongst the trees- a flash of bright feathers, a little green dress, a blink of mossy eyes. I trail my gaze over the shadowed form through the dense thickets and towering oaks, watching with an enamoured interest as the tiny figure comes ever closer to the barrier.
Then something catches me off guard.
My eyes widen a little as a sound, a horrible grating crunch- as though something were breaking apart a tree with little more than their bear hands, echoes through the air. A second angry, more human sound follows, a huff of frustration, followed by a dull thud of something burying itself into bark. Perhaps if I had a heart, it might have started to beat. Whatever is lurking behind the border is no ordinary being, that much is evident already.
Against my instincts, I draw myself closer- at least as close as the barrier will allow me, tucking my head to peer through the bristly branches of my chosen thicket of hiding. I swipe a strand of hair out my face to get a clearer look, ringed fingers glinting splendidly under the faint morning light.
That's when I see her: my victim.
A girl, perhaps only eight or nine, furiously yanks a dagger out a tree, the muscles in her jaw straining as she grits her teeth, brows furrowed in strict concentration. Her brown hair is loose, wavy and slightly scruffy, as though she hadn't bothered to brush it, and covered in tiny bits of debris and browning leaves. I recognise her clothing, a beautiful leafy green spun with golden silk, the fabric so supple and soft that it would appear not as fabric, but as water, floating down the body in waves of silky folds. It is distinctly elven in making, and so it seems are the two red earrings that dangle in her downturned ears, stones glistening like morning dew.
"I hate them," she cries loudly, her heart beat skyrocketing as she launches the same dagger at another unsuspecting tree. "I hate them, I hate them, I hate them!" Her white and gold wings trail behind her as she storms over to fetch the dagger, placing her tiny hands around the wooden hilt and tugging once more, releasing it from the bark. The tree groans. She kicks the bark once- twice for good measure, then wipes the mess of hair from her brow, and screams once more. At that I almost chuckle to myself. For someone so tiny she is making quite the commotion. It seems a shame that I will have to kill someone so feisty- what a fighter she would make!
Her green eyes flash furiously, fists clenching and unclenching, as she wipes away a bead of sweat with the back of her hand. Another scream of frustration escapes her lips, the air pulsing around her with a faint golden glow.
"I hate them! I hate them all!"
Her two sets of wings flutter angrily as she brings her thumb up to the tip of the knife, meticulously wiping away crumbs of debris in a manner that might suggest she has done this many times before.
"Stupid council and their stupid rules! why can't I go? It's just one trip!"
But the words run right past me. Instead, my mind wanders to something else.
Two sets of wings, I muse curiously to myself, So this is the little angel Queen the council have been raising. I smirk. By the look of it, they aren't doing a very good job. In fact, it looks as though their Queen is about to escape. My grin widens.
Oh well, more fun for me then.
In my blazon deliriousness, I make the mistake of taking another step forward, too close, causing the iron fillings sear harshly against my skin, an intense burning coursing through me. I move a hand to muffle a groan. But it's too late. A dagger whizzes past my head. The girl looks at me through the trees, her hand stretched out mid throw, breathing heavily, her heart thundering. Her gaze reaches mine. She looks like she could murder.
"Well that wasn't very nice," I laugh warily, trying to hide my tones of frustration. Lifting a hand to skim the sides of my hair, I sigh, thankful to find none of it had been cut away. Lazily, I move to pick up the dagger which lies small in my hands, spinning it around my fingers. Now she is weapon-less- how perfect indeed. As much of a fighter as this young girl is, she isn't exactly the brightest bulb in the box, after all, throwing your only dagger over the border you are strictly never meant to cross certainly seems like a sure fire way to get yourself killed. At least, I am sure that is what her council would have told her. Perhaps then I should have expected it, the angel Queen doesn't appear to have a lot of respect for them.
I suppose that makes two of us.
The sound of her heart racing resounds in my ears, and my vision blurs a little as concentration becomes more and more of a distant memory. The rush of blood echoes through the clearing, luring me with its delicate hum of temptation. The dagger stops spinning. If I could just get her to step over the barrier... I lick my lips.
"Oh, sorry I thought you were a councillor or something," she says with a shrug, flattening out her dress with grimy hands. "They have been tailing me all morning."
I freeze, unsure quite of what I heard. Did she just apologise to me?
"Hey Mister, can I have my knife back?" she calls, traipsing over, darting her way around thorny bushes and upturned roots with the nimble ease of a fairy. Her mossy eyes search me as she walks, glancing over my horns, my eyes, the finery of my clothing, the long talons of my nails. There is a twinge of excitement on her face, almost miss-able under the half light of the rippling forest shadows, but evident enough in the wild beats of her heart. Not beats of fear, but beats of exhilaration.
She stops short of the barrier with her boots covered in decaying leaves, holding out her hand expectantly, remarkably unfazed.
"Hand it over Mr vampire man, the council are going to be here soon, I don't wanna get caught."
She shakes her hand, urging me to hand over the knife.
For a moment, I do nothing, letting the cool chill of the morning ruffle my hair, taking in the situation. I struggle to keep my face from forming an inadvertent look of confusion. What an odd angel. Stooping low, I get down on my haunches to bring my eyes level to her. She holds my gaze confidently, palm still outstretched towards me, her legs squared and sturdy. Staying quiet for a moment, I listen to the steady beat of her heart, and frown.
"Little dove, you know what I am, don't you?" I ask slowly, running a thumb up the side of the blade, drawing thick droplets of blood beading up on my skin. I lick them off. The girl looks away quickly, her face reddening, cheeks flushing a hot red as though either my words or the action had reminded her of something. She sticks her nose up in the air.
"I'm not scared of you, dumbass. Just give me the knife back. If I get caught here, they will lock me up for sure," she replies instead, crossing her arms over herself, her eyes darting back to mine every now and then and looking quickly away, as though she didn't want me seeing. I bite my lip. She isn't lying. In the tiny, soft thuds of her heart, there isn't a single ounce of fear, but the notion in itself makes my head spin.
Suddenly I don't feel like killing her anymore.
A steady breeze blows up between us, shaking the branches of the trees, leaves spiralling to the ground, dusting her hair lightly with crumbs of debris. She shakes them off abruptly, frowning heavily. I listen a little more, to the sound of the howling wind, to the soft beats of her heart and its delicate tune- new and beautiful, and hum a little. At that she looks up. Her large eyes glow like twin orbs on her face; her lip quivers a little.
"You can sing?"
I shrug, twiddling the knife between my fingers in a curious manner.
"I can, but there are other much greater things I am famed for."
The angel frowns for a minute, a ponderous look crossing her face as she twiddles her fingers together absently. Then she looks up, her green eyes wide and sparkling.
"D-do you know how to dance?" the little angel asks tentatively, her wings rising and falling with the gusts of wind that whistle past. It's almost a surprise she doesn't get blown away herself. I smile a little.
"Of course," I tell her, feeling the odd need to keep my voice soft. I draw my brows together in a tight frown. This even for my standards is very unlike myself. "Do you?" I throw the dagger over the border lines, where it lands with a soft thud on the earth, the blade still stained slightly with my blood, and hold out a hand.
I came here looking to kill, to feel the soft pulsation of a heart in the talons of my fingers, to make the skies rain red with the blood that I so desperately crave. But for some reason, one I cannot place, the thought of killing this angel makes my gorge rise in protest.
What ever this grisly, disgusting feeling is, it is certainly not one I am accustomed to. I hate feeling as much as I hate the angels. But this one...
Perhaps this one I shall spare.. However much I hate it.
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Something flickers amongst the trees- a flash of bright feathers, a little green dress, a blink of mossy eyes. I trail my gaze over the shadowed form through the dense thickets and towering oaks, watching with an enamoured interest as the tiny figure comes ever closer to the barrier.
Then something catches me off guard.
My eyes widen a little as a sound, a horrible grating crunch- as though something were breaking apart a tree with little more than their bear hands, echoes through the air. A second angry, more human sound follows, a huff of frustration, followed by a dull thud of something burying itself into bark. Perhaps if I had a heart, it might have started to beat. Whatever is lurking behind the border is no ordinary being, that much is evident already.
Against my instincts, I draw myself closer- at least as close as the barrier will allow me, tucking my head to peer through the bristly branches of my chosen thicket of hiding. I swipe a strand of hair out my face to get a clearer look, ringed fingers glinting splendidly under the faint morning light.
That's when I see her: my victim.
A girl, perhaps only eight or nine, furiously yanks a dagger out a tree, the muscles in her jaw straining as she grits her teeth, brows furrowed in strict concentration. Her brown hair is loose, wavy and slightly scruffy, as though she hadn't bothered to brush it, and covered in tiny bits of debris and browning leaves. I recognise her clothing, a beautiful leafy green spun with golden silk, the fabric so supple and soft that it would appear not as fabric, but as water, floating down the body in waves of silky folds. It is distinctly elven in making, and so it seems are the two red earrings that dangle in her downturned ears, stones glistening like morning dew.
"I hate them," she cries loudly, her heart beat skyrocketing as she launches the same dagger at another unsuspecting tree. "I hate them, I hate them, I hate them!" Her white and gold wings trail behind her as she storms over to fetch the dagger, placing her tiny hands around the wooden hilt and tugging once more, releasing it from the bark. The tree groans. She kicks the bark once- twice for good measure, then wipes the mess of hair from her brow, and screams once more. At that I almost chuckle to myself. For someone so tiny she is making quite the commotion. It seems a shame that I will have to kill someone so feisty- what a fighter she would make!
Her green eyes flash furiously, fists clenching and unclenching, as she wipes away a bead of sweat with the back of her hand. Another scream of frustration escapes her lips, the air pulsing around her with a faint golden glow.
"I hate them! I hate them all!"
Her two sets of wings flutter angrily as she brings her thumb up to the tip of the knife, meticulously wiping away crumbs of debris in a manner that might suggest she has done this many times before.
"Stupid council and their stupid rules! why can't I go? It's just one trip!"
But the words run right past me. Instead, my mind wanders to something else.
Two sets of wings, I muse curiously to myself, So this is the little angel Queen the council have been raising. I smirk. By the look of it, they aren't doing a very good job. In fact, it looks as though their Queen is about to escape. My grin widens.
Oh well, more fun for me then.
In my blazon deliriousness, I make the mistake of taking another step forward, too close, causing the iron fillings sear harshly against my skin, an intense burning coursing through me. I move a hand to muffle a groan. But it's too late. A dagger whizzes past my head. The girl looks at me through the trees, her hand stretched out mid throw, breathing heavily, her heart thundering. Her gaze reaches mine. She looks like she could murder.
"Well that wasn't very nice," I laugh warily, trying to hide my tones of frustration. Lifting a hand to skim the sides of my hair, I sigh, thankful to find none of it had been cut away. Lazily, I move to pick up the dagger which lies small in my hands, spinning it around my fingers. Now she is weapon-less- how perfect indeed. As much of a fighter as this young girl is, she isn't exactly the brightest bulb in the box, after all, throwing your only dagger over the border you are strictly never meant to cross certainly seems like a sure fire way to get yourself killed. At least, I am sure that is what her council would have told her. Perhaps then I should have expected it, the angel Queen doesn't appear to have a lot of respect for them.
I suppose that makes two of us.
The sound of her heart racing resounds in my ears, and my vision blurs a little as concentration becomes more and more of a distant memory. The rush of blood echoes through the clearing, luring me with its delicate hum of temptation. The dagger stops spinning. If I could just get her to step over the barrier... I lick my lips.
"Oh, sorry I thought you were a councillor or something," she says with a shrug, flattening out her dress with grimy hands. "They have been tailing me all morning."
I freeze, unsure quite of what I heard. Did she just apologise to me?
"Hey Mister, can I have my knife back?" she calls, traipsing over, darting her way around thorny bushes and upturned roots with the nimble ease of a fairy. Her mossy eyes search me as she walks, glancing over my horns, my eyes, the finery of my clothing, the long talons of my nails. There is a twinge of excitement on her face, almost miss-able under the half light of the rippling forest shadows, but evident enough in the wild beats of her heart. Not beats of fear, but beats of exhilaration.
She stops short of the barrier with her boots covered in decaying leaves, holding out her hand expectantly, remarkably unfazed.
"Hand it over Mr vampire man, the council are going to be here soon, I don't wanna get caught."
She shakes her hand, urging me to hand over the knife.
For a moment, I do nothing, letting the cool chill of the morning ruffle my hair, taking in the situation. I struggle to keep my face from forming an inadvertent look of confusion. What an odd angel. Stooping low, I get down on my haunches to bring my eyes level to her. She holds my gaze confidently, palm still outstretched towards me, her legs squared and sturdy. Staying quiet for a moment, I listen to the steady beat of her heart, and frown.
"Little dove, you know what I am, don't you?" I ask slowly, running a thumb up the side of the blade, drawing thick droplets of blood beading up on my skin. I lick them off. The girl looks away quickly, her face reddening, cheeks flushing a hot red as though either my words or the action had reminded her of something. She sticks her nose up in the air.
"I'm not scared of you, dumbass. Just give me the knife back. If I get caught here, they will lock me up for sure," she replies instead, crossing her arms over herself, her eyes darting back to mine every now and then and looking quickly away, as though she didn't want me seeing. I bite my lip. She isn't lying. In the tiny, soft thuds of her heart, there isn't a single ounce of fear, but the notion in itself makes my head spin.
Suddenly I don't feel like killing her anymore.
A steady breeze blows up between us, shaking the branches of the trees, leaves spiralling to the ground, dusting her hair lightly with crumbs of debris. She shakes them off abruptly, frowning heavily. I listen a little more, to the sound of the howling wind, to the soft beats of her heart and its delicate tune- new and beautiful, and hum a little. At that she looks up. Her large eyes glow like twin orbs on her face; her lip quivers a little.
"You can sing?"
I shrug, twiddling the knife between my fingers in a curious manner.
"I can, but there are other much greater things I am famed for."
The angel frowns for a minute, a ponderous look crossing her face as she twiddles her fingers together absently. Then she looks up, her green eyes wide and sparkling.
"D-do you know how to dance?" the little angel asks tentatively, her wings rising and falling with the gusts of wind that whistle past. It's almost a surprise she doesn't get blown away herself. I smile a little.
"Of course," I tell her, feeling the odd need to keep my voice soft. I draw my brows together in a tight frown. This even for my standards is very unlike myself. "Do you?" I throw the dagger over the border lines, where it lands with a soft thud on the earth, the blade still stained slightly with my blood, and hold out a hand.
I came here looking to kill, to feel the soft pulsation of a heart in the talons of my fingers, to make the skies rain red with the blood that I so desperately crave. But for some reason, one I cannot place, the thought of killing this angel makes my gorge rise in protest.
What ever this grisly, disgusting feeling is, it is certainly not one I am accustomed to. I hate feeling as much as I hate the angels. But this one...
Perhaps this one I shall spare.. However much I hate it.
Something flickers amongst the trees- a flash of bright feathers, a little green dress, a blink of mossy eyes. I trail my gaze over the shadowed form through the dense thickets and towering oaks, watching with an enamoured interest as the tiny figure comes ever closer to the barrier.Then something catches me off guard.My eyes widen a little as a sound, a horrible grating crunch- as though something were breaking apart a tree with little more than their bear hands, echoes through the air. A second angry, more human sound follows, a huff of frustration, followed by a dull thud of something burying itself into bark. Perhaps if I had a heart, it might have started to beat. Whatever is lurking behind the border is no ordinary being, that much is evident already.Against my instincts, I draw myself closer- at least as close as the barrier will allow me, tucking my head to peer through the bristly branches of my chosen thicket of hiding. I swipe a strand of hair out my face to get a clearer look, ringed fingers glinting splendidly under the faint morning light.That's when I see her: my victim.A girl, perhaps only eight or nine, furiously yanks a dagger out a tree, the muscles in her jaw straining as she grits her teeth, brows furrowed in strict concentration. Her brown hair is loose, wavy and slightly scruffy, as though she hadn't bothered to brush it, and covered in tiny bits of debris and browning leaves. I recognise her clothing, a beautiful leafy green spun with golden silk, the fabric so supple and soft that it would appear not as fabric, but as water, floating down the body in waves of silky folds. It is distinctly elven in making, and so it seems are the two red earrings that dangle in her downturned ears, stones glistening like morning dew."I hate them," she cries loudly, her heart beat skyrocketing as she launches the same dagger at another unsuspecting tree. "I hate them, I hate them, I hate them!" Her white and gold wings trail behind her as she storms over to fetch the dagger, placing her tiny hands around the wooden hilt and tugging once more, releasing it from the bark. The tree groans. She kicks the bark once- twice for good measure, then wipes the mess of hair from her brow, and screams once more. At that I almost chuckle to myself. For someone so tiny she is making quite the commotion. It seems a shame that I will have to kill someone so feisty- what a fighter she would make!Her green eyes flash furiously, fists clenching and unclenching, as she wipes away a bead of sweat with the back of her hand. Another scream of frustration escapes her lips, the air pulsing around her with a faint golden glow."I hate them! I hate them all!"Her two sets of wings flutter angrily as she brings her thumb up to the tip of the knife, meticulously wiping away crumbs of debris in a manner that might suggest she has done this many times before."Stupid council and their stupid rules! why can't I go? It's just one trip!"But the words run right past me. Instead, my mind wanders to something else.Two sets of wings, I muse curiously to myself, So this is the little angel Queen the council have been raising. I smirk. By the look of it, they aren't doing a very good job. In fact, it looks as though their Queen is about to escape. My grin widens.Oh well, more fun for me then.In my blazon deliriousness, I make the mistake of taking another step forward, too close, causing the iron fillings sear harshly against my skin, an intense burning coursing through me. I move a hand to muffle a groan. But it's too late. A dagger whizzes past my head. The girl looks at me through the trees, her hand stretched out mid throw, breathing heavily, her heart thundering. Her gaze reaches mine. She looks like she could murder."Well that wasn't very nice," I laugh warily, trying to hide my tones of frustration. Lifting a hand to skim the sides of my hair, I sigh, thankful to find none of it had been cut away. Lazily, I move to pick up the dagger which lies small in my hands, spinning it around my fingers. Now she is weapon-less- how perfect indeed. As much of a fighter as this young girl is, she isn't exactly the brightest bulb in the box, after all, throwing your only dagger over the border you are strictly never meant to cross certainly seems like a sure fire way to get yourself killed. At least, I am sure that is what her council would have told her. Perhaps then I should have expected it, the angel Queen doesn't appear to have a lot of respect for them.I suppose that makes two of us.The sound of her heart racing resounds in my ears, and my vision blurs a little as concentration becomes more and more of a distant memory. The rush of blood echoes through the clearing, luring me with its delicate hum of temptation. The dagger stops spinning. If I could just get her to step over the barrier... I lick my lips."Oh, sorry I thought you were a councillor or something," she says with a shrug, flattening out her dress with grimy hands. "They have been tailing me all morning."I freeze, unsure quite of what I heard. Did she just apologise to me?"Hey Mister, can I have my knife back?" she calls, traipsing over, darting her way around thorny bushes and upturned roots with the nimble ease of a fairy. Her mossy eyes search me as she walks, glancing over my horns, my eyes, the finery of my clothing, the long talons of my nails. There is a twinge of excitement on her face, almost miss-able under the half light of the rippling forest shadows, but evident enough in the wild beats of her heart. Not beats of fear, but beats of exhilaration.She stops short of the barrier with her boots covered in decaying leaves, holding out her hand expectantly, remarkably unfazed."Hand it over Mr vampire man, the council are going to be here soon, I don't wanna get caught."She shakes her hand, urging me to hand over the knife.For a moment, I do nothing, letting the cool chill of the morning ruffle my hair, taking in the situation. I struggle to keep my face from forming an inadvertent look of confusion. What an odd angel. Stooping low, I get down on my haunches to bring my eyes level to her. She holds my gaze confidently, palm still outstretched towards me, her legs squared and sturdy. Staying quiet for a moment, I listen to the steady beat of her heart, and frown."Little dove, you know what I am, don't you?" I ask slowly, running a thumb up the side of the blade, drawing thick droplets of blood beading up on my skin. I lick them off. The girl looks away quickly, her face reddening, cheeks flushing a hot red as though either my words or the action had reminded her of something. She sticks her nose up in the air."I'm not scared of you, dumbass. Just give me the knife back. If I get caught here, they will lock me up for sure," she replies instead, crossing her arms over herself, her eyes darting back to mine every now and then and looking quickly away, as though she didn't want me seeing. I bite my lip. She isn't lying. In the tiny, soft thuds of her heart, there isn't a single ounce of fear, but the notion in itself makes my head spin. Suddenly I don't feel like killing her anymore.A steady breeze blows up between us, shaking the branches of the trees, leaves spiralling to the ground, dusting her hair lightly with crumbs of debris. She shakes them off abruptly, frowning heavily. I listen a little more, to the sound of the howling wind, to the soft beats of her heart and its delicate tune- new and beautiful, and hum a little. At that she looks up. Her large eyes glow like twin orbs on her face; her lip quivers a little."You can sing?"I shrug, twiddling the knife between my fingers in a curious manner."I can, but there are other much greater things I am famed for."The angel frowns for a minute, a ponderous look crossing her face as she twiddles her fingers together absently. Then she looks up, her green eyes wide and sparkling."D-do you know how to dance?" the little angel asks tentatively, her wings rising and falling with the gusts of wind that whistle past. It's almost a surprise she doesn't get blown away herself. I smile a little."Of course," I tell her, feeling the odd need to keep my voice soft. I draw my brows together in a tight frown. This even for my standards is very unlike myself. "Do you?" I throw the dagger over the border lines, where it lands with a soft thud on the earth, the blade still stained slightly with my blood, and hold out a hand.I came here looking to kill, to feel the soft pulsation of a heart in the talons of my fingers, to make the skies rain red with the blood that I so desperately crave. But for some reason, one I cannot place, the thought of killing this angel makes my gorge rise in protest.What ever this grisly, disgusting feeling is, it is certainly not one I am accustomed to. I hate feeling as much as I hate the angels. But this one...Perhaps this one I shall spare.. However much I hate it.
