Divided Paths Page 14

  Finally, I see them heading back. Ava throws her head back and laughs at something he says. They are getting along. Many happy and sad emotions pass through me at the same time. She is about to enter a new phase of life.

  ~~~~~

  “I HAVE RETURNED Ava, as promised.” The young man smiles broadly.

  “Jehan has shown me all sorts of interesting places.” Ava is still clasping the hook of his elbow, and her eyes are full of wonder.

  “Jehan?” I ask.

  “Yes, I'm sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Jehan.”

  I gaze from one to the other. They both beam.

  “I think she is a fast learner. I don't think it will take her long to settle into the town.” He touches her gently on her elbow then looks to the table of his goods. “Wow! You've been busy. I wish I could sell that many.” He looks at me with curiosity.

  I smirk. “I guess you can say I have a gift.” To be honest, sales is not my thing, but I used my angelic charm to help the young man out and sell the items for more than asking price, earning him some more cash.

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  I notice again just how happy the two seem together. “And I appreciate you taking Ava and showing her around. She could use some company other than me. This has been fun.” I indicate the stall then hold my elbow out. “Ava, we should finish our shopping and go home.”

  She hooks her arm through my elbow’s loop and smiles over a shoulder at the young man.

  “Next time you come to town, come and see me, please, and I'll show Ava around again.”

  I gaze over my shoulder at the young man. He looks steadfast and strong. My angelic sensors pick up a murmuring in his heart—he is nervous. I look at Ava and see that her face is beaming as she looks at Jehan. There is definitely some kind of attraction here. From what I read in his mind, he has a good heart, so what could it hurt? “Sure. I'll do that next time. I think that's a great idea. She needs more company. It will bring her out.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Ava's shy smile. We explore the marketplace and select different products we could use. We load up the donkey and walk home with Ava pulling the donkey.

  “He seems nice.”

  She gazes at the ground, and her cheeks redden. “Yes. He is very nice.”

  “Where did he take you?”

  “He took me to places that weren't so busy. He took me to the quieter places when he noticed that I couldn't help staring at everyone and he could see it was making me uncomfortable.”

  I'm curious. I haven't seen this side of Ava. “Are you nervous around people?” I study her reaction.

  She shakes her head then looks at me. “I wouldn't say nervous. I just felt that there were so many new faces at once that it was a little overwhelming. Jehan noticed that, though, and had an idea to take me to a place where there weren’t as many people. Then I could watch people at a slower pace, and it wasn't so bad. When I settled, he took me to a place with slightly more people in it.”

  “That was very considerate of him.” I find it amusing to realize how perceptive the young man was. It has me wondering how long it would take him to work out that she is a witch and a shapeshifter. I picked up from reading his mind that he has a very open mind. I don’t think it would take him long to accept her the way she is.

  “You seem more mellow since you transformed into a dragon. Did it help?”

  “Do you mean my temper surges?”

  “Yes. You seemed to get more temper surges just before you changed.”

  She looks thoughtful, as though trying to remember something, and her brows furrow in the middle. “Actually, now that I think about it, I believe it did. It must've been the gene taking over me.”

  “Do we even know where this gene came from?”

  “Do you mean where the dragon came from?”

  I watch her as she thinks. “Yes. Where did the dragon come from?”

  “I don't know. I don't know how I suddenly turn into a dragon. Any ideas?”

  I think for a while. I am not the person to ask. “I don't know. I had never even seen a dragon until you turned into one. And I didn't have the privilege of meeting your birth parents. I don't know if Michael knows more. He doesn't tell me everything. Do you know if your birth parents know anything about a dragon?”

  “They used to tell me lots of stories about a dragon, and my papa made me some little figurines of dragons and some thick wings so that I could pretend to fly around, which entertained me when I was young. This was all done just like it was a fairy tale, unless they were hiding something from me that was true, and they knew more. Of course, at my age, my parents wouldn't have told me everything. I was very young when they were taken from me.”

  I thought about it as we walked until something occurred to me. “Maybe this is how the dragon came about. Maybe you conjured it up in your mind because of the stories and because of the figurines that your father made.”

  I notice that she has a sack on her arm. I indicate it. “What's inside? It looks heavy.”

  She adjusts it to a more comfortable position. “It is heavy. It's parchment.”

  “How did you get it?”

  “Jehan bought it for me. I told him I like to make books and that I want to make a new one. So he bought me parchment.”

  “That is really unusual.”

  “I told him it was my birthday last week, and he said he bought it for my birthday. Now, all I need is a bit of leather to make the cover.”

  Jehan shouldn't have been surprised by the importance of the parchment. I am, knowing that the only books that I have seen her make were spellbooks. He is more taken by Ava than I imagined. “Does he know it's for a spellbook?”

  She gives me a disgusted look. “Do you really think I would tell him that I’m a witch? Even I, someone who’s hardly seen anybody else, wouldn’t tell a person that I’m a witch straight away. He's going to have to earn a lot of trust from me first.”

  “That's good.” I expel a breath of relief. “As much as what I read from him was trustworthy, you don't want to overload him with strange information. If people are overwhelmed with too much strangeness, you don't know what they will do.” I hold out my hand. “May I look at the parchment?”

  She takes the strap off her shoulder and hands it to me. I open the bag and pull it out. Instantly, I can feel that it is good-quality parchment. “It looks nice. He must've spent a lot on you.”

  “I don't know,” she says hesitantly. “I don't know what a lot is.”

  “I don't know myself. I do know that this much parchment at this quality is not cheap.” I flick a thumb over the edges and look up.

  She seems to be blushing from the comment. The impact of realizing how much a young man cared for her was starting to sink in, even though he had only just met her.

  “He must really be taken by you. Young men don't buy a lady something unless they’re taken by them, especially something of quality—even if they say it is for your birthday.”

  The red on her face deepens. “Oh. I thought it was just a kind gesture.”

  “Yes. It is that. Although looking at the gift, it is also more.” I flick my finger over the pages again then place it away and hand back the bag. “What do you plan on doing with that?”

  “It seems appropriate that I should start making a new book. I have started a new chapter in my life, so I think it's a good idea to start the new chapter with a new book. Besides, since I have turned into a dragon, I have new spells entering my head. I can see them, and I need to write them down.”

  “I didn't think witches come up with spells. Is this what witches usually do?”

  “I don't know. And I haven't had any association with other witches.”

  “I thought they learned the spells off other witches or through books.”

  “That's probably true, although someone has to make up the spells in the first place.” She reaches for the straps on her bag. “I don't know if it's me making t
he spells up, or if I'm creating them in my head, or if they are coming to me because they are ones that were already made and lie dormant in my memory from my childhood. Still, I'm writing them down. This new book is going to be just about dragon spells. When I get some good leather, I'm going to make a nice dragon face for the front cover. Then I am going to seal it with my blood. So only the ones who can open it are those with a good heart, yet also blessed with shapeshifting and witch power.”

  “Like you did with the other book you have?” I watch her in fascination. It’s a clever idea.

  “Yes. Except only witches equipped with a good and pure heart can open that one.”

  “That is a lot of effort to put into a book.”

  A thoughtful look crosses her face. “I don't think these are the types of books that should be falling into anyone's hands, and if they do, I think they should have precautions set to hinder anyone opening them.”

  “And you thought of this at a very young age?”

  She nods.

  “That was very clever of you.” I study her. She has certainly grown into a remarkable young woman, and doing things like that is astounding. She was mature at a very young age. Even now, she still looks young, yet she just turned twenty-one.

  - Chapter Twenty-Five -

  For the next week, I watch her work on the spellbook as she covers the parchment with leather I had stored and gave to her. I’m intrigued as she works on the leather, treating it and forming it to cover her book. Her tongue presses to her lips as her hands work meticulously on the details of the cover and sewing the parchment, attaching it to the leather. I notice that the leather edges are floppy even after it is attached. She plays with it continuously, folding it and flicking it, trying out the strength with an expression of dissatisfaction on her face.

  I search for a piece of wood in my collection and start working on it, cutting a thin, flat piece, molding and treating the hardwood until it becomes beautiful and robust. When I'm satisfied with the outcome, I present it to her. “Here. I hope you like these. I thought they would help with the flimsy cover.”

  Ava sits at the small park bench I made years ago, and I place the two sheets on the table in front of her. It allows her enough light to work under the sun. She stops what she’s doing, picks up a piece of wood, and turns it over in her hands.

  “Oh, Zacharias. It’s beautiful.” She flips the piece several times more, studying the grains in the wood and the deep, dark color of the varnish. She holds the pieces up to her leather-covered parchment. They’re slightly too big.

  “I can take them away and resize them if you’d like.” I hold out my hand, expecting her to hand them back.

  “Oh, no. I love them. I will work with them. Thank you.” She clasps them to her chest, her fingers turning white while she holds them close, as if I was about to grab them off her.

  I pull my hand away, and her grip relaxes.

  “Okay. I'll let you work on them. Make them how you would like them,” I say, leaving her.

  The next day, I watch from a distance as she molds them into the right shape, putting intricate details around the edge in a little pattern to give the edge of the book a border. She then reinforces the spine with some metal and decorates it with scales, fastening it to the wood. Molding a hole, she embeds leather straps, one at the top and one on bottom, to secure the book together firmly. When midday approaches, I have a look over her shoulder.

  “It's looking quite nice.” I edge my way around to her front.

  Her forehead is crinkled in thought. “It's still missing something.” She purses her lips and stares at the book. “I think it needs a piece of copper on the front in the form of a mold. Something to spruce it up a little.”

  “I think I have just the thing.” I go inside the cottage to where I have a little chest. I open it to reveal a collection of items, things I thought might come in handy one day. I dig through it and pull out an unshaped piece of copper. It’s a little bit dented and needs to be straightened out. I return to her, still seated at the table, and hand it to her. “I had this in my collection of unusual treasures. Perhaps you can use it.” Now that I am back at the table, I am full of questions, wondering if I have found something useful. “I'm not a copper designer, but perhaps this can be molded.” I shrug. “I was keeping it to shape it into a bowl later on.”

  “Oh, Zacharias. It's beautiful. And the perfect size.”

  She takes it from me, holds it between her slender fingers, then runs her fingertips over the surface and flips it from one side to the other.

  “I'm glad.” I feel relieved as I watch her reaction. “You can work your magic on it.”

  She looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

  “No pun intended.” I smirk.

  I leave her with it and go back to work in the vegetable garden. From a distance, I watch as she arches over the piece of copper, molding it with sharp little taps and pressure from different tools. My heart fills with pride. She feels so much how I imagined it would feel to have a human daughter. I have known her for so long. It is going to be hard to separate from her now that she has grown and is starting to find her own way.

  I know that it is frowned upon for angels to form attachments to humans. That may be so, yet it is hard when I've lived with one for so long, especially because she has been vulnerable and has relied on me to help her develop. I am happy to return to my duties by the side of the great Archangel Michael, but at the same time, I am going to miss her. She has stolen my heart and will remain there for the rest of time, even though her human years are only a flicker of an instant in an angel's life.

  I pick several vegetables for dinner, gather them in my arms, then head back to the cabin. I stop by the table to check on her progress.

  “Wow. It looks terrific. I'm impressed.”

  She has molded the copper into a circle. The edges are embossed with what looks like scales. It is eye-catching. A few symbols mark the edges, and in the middle is a dragon. Looking closer, I realize it isn't exactly a dragon, but rather a centered star with three dragon heads forming around the outside into a triangle. She fastens it to the wooden front cover with the three studs.

  While hitting the last nail, she looks up at me and smiles. “Do you like it?”

  “Yes. I definitely do. Perhaps you have found your job.”

  Her face fills with confusion. “Job?”

  “You have to earn your living somehow. Perhaps you can go work with Jehan.”

  Her cheeks flush after I say his name, and her eyes dart down to the copper shape on her book.

  “I thought I would still live here on the farm.” She sounds flustered.

  “Unless you find a young man that you will be happy with. Then you might want to marry, settle down, and have his family.”

  Her flush deepens. We both know I am teasing her.

  A strange feeling stirs in my stomach. I frown and place a hand over the area.

  “What's wrong?” The redness of her cheeks has dimmed, and she stares up at me.

  “I don't know. I have a strange feeling in my stomach.”

  Zacharias. Michael's voice enters my head. We need you. Bring Ava. An image flashes into my mind, revealing a vision of horror. They are being slaughtered.

  - Chapter Twenty-Six -

  I grasp Ava, we teleport to the area, and I transform into my angelic form with my golden breastplate and Egyptian ax. My heart shatters as I assess the situation. Several archangels lie slaughtered in the fields, the land around them tainted with the color of their blood. I mourn them as I stand with Ava. I'm devastated and pray that Michael isn’t among them.

  I turn to give Ava instructions but realize she is gone. I search for her, wondering where she has disappeared to, when over in the corner a large patch of green flies above. She has already turned into her dragon form, and flames burst forth out of her mouth and scorch several demons, their bodies turning to dust. They’re creatures of hell, so I am surprised that their bodies are not
immune to the fire. Several more demons head over the hill toward the angels. She swoops down and bathes them in a large flame, scorching them to dust. My heart is heavy with grief, but I am not going to let it dampen the pride I feel for the young woman.

  My frantic search for Michael continues. I must be by his side to protect him. Refusing to look among the corpses for him, I search the fighting angels. Sweat trickles down my brow, and I wipe it away with my forearm. The sun shines brightly in the sky, burning the desolate desert with its rays. I don't know why the demons have chosen this plane for a fight, but at least it's not in the middle of a civilian city.

  A glint hits my eye, and I follow the direction of the sharp light. Swords tilt in different angles, catching the sun's light and shining it sporadically in my direction. One in particular has more gold than the other. My heart leaps with joy. It is Michael. His golden breastplate glimmers in the sun, and his sword shines in my eyes as he moves. He is only a few feet away, making it possible for me to get to his side in quick order.

  A grunt sounds behind me, and I turn to see a demon heading my way. I wheel my ax and slam it into its body, slicing its stomach open. Then I swing it again and chop off his head. The demon turns to dust and falls to the ground, and another demon charges from another direction. I slice away, fighting my way to Michael's side. He spikes several demons that were stupid enough to turn their backs to him while they aim for me. I fight off a couple more demons until I manage to get only a few feet away from him, and we defend each other's backs.

  “You made it!” he calls over his shoulder. “I see you brought Ava with you.” He flicks his eyes briefly toward the dragon flying above and singeing the demons on the outskirts.