The Ascent of the Angelic Ch. 07

They walked through the park for what must have been an hour in silence. The sun had long set, leaving only Mehira's light to guide them through. Rhys should have been scared of the dangers the dark brought. Instead he was scared of letting his words go unheard. How surreal it was to worry about professing your love to an angel. Certainly that wasn't a challenge he had ever faced before, and it was the hardest one he had ever faced.

As Rhys returned from his thoughts, he was greeted by the cacophony of insects singing in the dark. Must be nice, having all of your predators chased off or commandeered by the demonic.

"Be on your guard," Mehira said, as if reading his thoughts. "I sense pain."

Rhys gripped his sword. This time he would be of some use, to pay back all that she had done for him. Was that it, or were you trying to impress her? Rhys forced his thoughts back into line. Either way he should do it, right? The pain could have easily been him, but she would have made explicit mention if it were.

The pair continued their trek a while longer. Suddenly they were hit by the sound of grinding stone. Not far ahead of them was a small structure. In front of it stood a four-legged creature. A deer? A large one at that, almost bigger than a horse. Rhys prayed that for once it would just be a regular animal, and for a few moments it seemed like it was. Until the rest of Mehira's light illuminated it. First, Rhys noticed its horns had become jagged and gnarled. He sighed. Second was its wavering posture, making it seem ill or sickly. Then? Then was when it turned, and what Rhys merely thought was a drinking posture was in reality the thing's head only barely managing to stay rooted to its neck. At least this one couldn't speak.

"Their existence is tiring," Mehira said. "Stay back, dear protected."

Mehira spread her wings and lurched forward. She may have not been as speedy as a Cherub, but she was still fast. The angel slammed into the thing, her spear going right through its side and smashing it into the structure in front of them. Its head quickly popped loose and fell to the floor. Rhys was stunned for a moment, putting on a wary yet excited smile. That was quick.

Celebrations did not last long.

The deer's head stirred, and Rhys took note of the spine that pulled free with its head. The segments of bone began moving, flexing like legs. In fact, they had become legs, sprouting out in an insect-like fashion. Rhys snapped to Mehira, who was now struggling with a headless body. Teeth sprouted out of the neck stump, gnashing at the air. One had become two. The man drew his sword and pointed it at the head, which was wholly focused on him and crawling uneasily forward like a centipede. The limp head's horns ground loudly across the concrete path. This was your chance, right? Rhys swallowed a lump his throat. Fighting was a lot harder now that he had something to fight for. You did it once before, right?

It was only a head. A head that was now lunging at him. Move. Move! Rhys tumbled to his left, narrowly dodging the thing. It hit the ground with only a thud. He looked back, noticing the deer head was already poised to strike again. Just how fast were these things? He desperately wanted to check on Mehira but couldn't. Fortunately he could see the light wildly change in intensity, so she must've still been moving. The thing took its next lunge, missing Rhys once again with a roll. He spun around as quickly as he could and came down at the base of its neck. With a snap it twisted its head back, only just barely catching the sword in its tangled horns. Damnit! A small droplet of blood dribbled out of the head, staining the ground. The thing was pushing back at him now.

"Rhys?!" Mehira called out.

"I'm fine!"

With all his might, the man pushed back. Despite its spindly legs, the deer head didn't budge. What now? His thoughts raced. What now? In a hasty move he yanked back, falling back onto the ground. The spine sprung over him, falling next to his side. In a wild abandon, Rhys brought his sword down on one of the columns. The thing seized, then began shaking violently. Legs kicked every which way. Its motionless head contorted in pain. The man scrambled to his feet and planted his foot on the blade, trying to force it further in. The spine wrapped around his leg. Stomp. Crunch. Stomp. Crunch. Stomp. Every successive stomp stilled the beast, until it was completely frozen. His sword finally came through the other side. Rhys pried his leg free and readied his sword once more.

Mehira had managed to flip the thing onto its back and drove her spear straight through its sternum. A loud, pained wheeze escaped the torso and it fell limp. Rhys stumbled over and drove his sword into it alongside her spear, just for the sake of being sure. Mehira quickly pulled him up into an embrace.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly.

Rhys could see her use a secondary hand to force the spear further into the deer.

"I'm fine." Probably. Though as he thought about it, he did feel something wet on his leg.

"No, no, no, no." Mehira manipulated him carefully into a supine position. "Your form weeps." Rhys glanced down, noticing the patch of red on his pants. One of his pant legs was torn to shreds. Oh. That would certainly be an issue. She pulled her spear free along with his sword and quickly sped along her way. Most of what Rhys could see was the nearly black sky with Mehira's stoic visage in front of it. She was awfully pretty for just a shell. He shifted in her grasp, and was suddenly struck by a shooting pain stabbing at his leg. "Do not move."

There was a crash of wood, then the sky was suddenly replaced with a ceiling. His bag was stripped off and then he was placed on something smooth and cold.

"I apologize for the lack of comfort," Mehira said.

"It's quite alright," Rhys replied. The pain stabbed back as if to answer his lie. He stifled a groan. Mehira pulled up one of his pant legs, exposing the wound. Large gashes ran through his limb, though despite the pain they didn't appear deep. Mehira seemed to freeze as the wound came to view, but then went into motion. She dug through his bag, finding what little medical supplies he had scraped together. She washed the wound with water, then wiped it up with cotton. The angel disappeared from view.

"My apologies, past protected," Mehira said. Glass shattered loudly. The angel came back with a black cloth and carefully wrapped it around his leg. She placed her hands on the wound, muttered something, then sighed. "Rhys? Can you hear me?"

"Yes, Mehira, I haven't lost that much blood." Though there was a chord of fear back in his mind at the idea of losing blood. He kept his easygoing demeanor up. "I'm more than alright."

"You are not. The claws of fear have sunk into your mind." Ah, right, she could see that after all. "I should have been far more swift. I should have crushed that-- that damnable thing." Her hand clenched.

"How would you have known the beast would split like that? I was certainly stunned." He tried to sit up but was firmly held in place by one of Mehira's larger hands.

"It is time for more rest. Movement is against your interests." Mehira's hand hovered tentatively over his wound. "I have had more than enough of my fears of the soul for today."

Rhys did as well. It didn't really occur to him how poorly that could've gone for him if he had done any worse. It was a wonder he was able to keep his leg, or his life for that matter. All the more reason to tell her, right? Rhys sighed. Was that truly a love or were you merely blinded by elegance?

"Fear, now doubt," Mehira said. "You will be safe." She was bound to find out eventually.

"Mehira, I'm not fearful or in doubt of my well-being." Not entirely, anyways. "What we've been through has made me realize quite a bit." It was strange to say it from down here on this... what was it, a display case? That didn't really matter.

"Speak. Let your doubts be known."

"I..." Believe? Know? Feel? "I think I love you."

Mehira nodded. "As I love you and all the other protected."

Rhys frowned reflexively. The angel froze for a moment.

"That is not the shallow love you are pouring forth, is it?" she asked.

"No. Not close at all." He settled his hand on hers.

"I had wondered if that was the case." Mehira took up his hand, squeezing it gently. "Within the tower I had felt a twinge of that delight come from you. A spark of fulfillment." Her other hand slowly came up to their held hands. "In some way I had hoped that it was merely an illusion of the mind."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have burdened you--" Mehira squeezed his hand.

"It is no burden. The choice you have made fills my soul with an indescribable feeling. The pull of romance, I believe." She turned her head away. "Yet, the permittance of a bond between the protected and protectors is unlikely. We are not worthy of your level of admiration."

Rhys used her hands to pull himself up into a sitting position. She perked up at this but made no protest. "You deserve all my admiration, Mehira. If you didn't, I wouldn't be here this very moment with you." He softly nudged her head back to face him. "As far as I'm concerned, you're my prayers answered." He smiled and shook his head. Perhaps you should have pursued regular women, then you might know what to say to Mehira. "I hope, in some way, you feel the same about my poor choice of words."

"Long before I had thought of my place on this Earth, I had worried of the humans and their reactions toward me. How would I manage to help those who had long since been made worthy of the greatest gifts the Lord had bestowed upon them? Indeed, in some way many of them have disregarded me, or seen me as an interloper to excommunicate." She leaned closer, nearly touching her visor to his head. "And through all of that, you, Rhys, have soothed me by my side."

"It's sometimes hard to believe the heavens have come to aid us. I suppose I just believed the most." And found her powerful form strangely alluring in addition to that.

"You would be willing to... to join with me in love? To share that gift?" Her head touched his. Her voice lowered to a whisper. "Ignoring the impossibility." Her wings went limp.

"I don't think I would want to share it with anyone else," Rhys replied. A pain struck at his heart. The intent was there, but the chance had been ripped away from him by the laws of above. "If that is impossible, may I ask one thing of you?"

"Anything, dear Rhys."

"I would like to see you. Know your true self."

Mehira pulled away slightly but nodded. "You may find it curious."

Mehira's hands moved to the back of her neck, and after some fiddling, the helmet came loose. Slowly she pulled it away, revealing a brilliant light. Her head was a mix of a hazy white light and a powerful burning flame that loosely formed a human's head shape. In its center, a blue flame made its presence known. Rhys was in awe, merely staring. There was an abstractness about her, and at the same time an unbelievable beauty to her visage. Despite how much the fire raged, it made no sound.

"I must say this is the most I have been bare."

The man could hardly hear her words as he gazed upon her, only noting how her voice had taken on a slight echo to it, as if it were ringing hollow through his head. Rather than ask her to move, Rhys merely hopped down and walked over to her.

"Rhys, please, do not make any movements."

"I'm sorry Mehira, I'm merely stunned is all. I don't think beauty would begin to describe it." That only fueled his interest in the rest of her. He had hardly felt any pain in his leg at all.

Mehira bent down to come face to face with Rhys. "Your flattery is surprising and fulfilling."

Perhaps she was too grand for his mind to understand. Unknowable in its true form. Here he was, the chosen, the protected, the mundane, and he was chosen by the Lord? Love truly goes far.

Rhys swallowed and leaned forward. "Do you mind if we shared in one more thing?" he asked.

Mehira stared back. "I do not believe it would be any sort of sin to do so."

At this point Rhys was hardly interested in sin or the fate of his soul. Only Mehira. He hesitantly moved forward, planting his lips on something solid. They felt like lips, and indeed they pushed back, giving their own kiss in return. Mehira's blue flame seemed to spark brightly for a moment. The two parted, allowing Rhys to savor that fading sensation on his lips. It was then that he realized that she wasn't burning hot, merely comfortably warm.

The two stared at one another. For once, Rhys could feel her gaze, which was a welcoming one. He desperately wished to go back in for another, but didn't dare move. Mehira took her lead, pushing back against him with another kiss. She was clumsy and erratic in her movements, but Rhys couldn't claim he was any better. Her hands reached up to caress the back of his neck, gracing his skin with the slightest touch. She firmly pushed him up against her mouth, bringing them ever closer to one another. Rhys himself couldn't help but follow her lead. He traced his hands across her neck in much the same way, noting the soft texture and curiously pulsing sensation that ran through it.

Then, Mehira pulled away. Not forcefully or hurriedly. Slowly, shyly. "This is-- This is a situation to be sure," she said.

Rhys was reduced to the pain of admiring from a distance once again. After a few moments of silence, Mehira spun around and closed the battered door. The sound of creaking wood grinding into place brought the man crashing back into reality. They were in some sort of store that sold exotic or expensive bits of jewelry and clothing. At least that's what was advertised. The store had long since been freed from its items, with only a scant few on display. To his left, he noticed a smashed display and a black suit that had part of its fabric ripped free. So that's where the bandage came from. Feeling out of place in the center of this store, Rhys retreated back to the counter and sat back down on it. Mehira stood by the entrance still and idly manipulated the helmet in her secondary hands, as if to contemplate putting it back on. It seems Rhys' prayers were heard when she didn't and set it down on one of the glass displays near him.

"Now I am the one spurring on pains of the flesh. Unbecoming of a creature that is born of the heavens," she said.

"Humans come from the heavens too, don't we? Our souls have to come from somewhere. Just look at how we conducted ourselves." At this point though, Rhys knew he was trying to persuade her. That was wrong. He crossed his arms. "I'm sorry. I suppose you could call me desperate."

"And as ridiculous as these words ring, I appreciate that desire." She leaned up against the display next to him. "To desire, to want, is an alien sensation to the angelic. Everything is given. Everything is comfort. One realizes the craving of a challenge to obtain." Mehira clasped her hands together. "I suspect that is why those who have left have never returned to grace this land. To deny that strum of the soul."

"Especially now with the impossible," he said.

"No human has been so forward. I suppose that is my fault, to invite such a thing."

Rhys considered asking if it was against some sort of rule, but he knew Mehira wouldn't have allowed him by her side if it were.

"Just know I would do it again, if given the chance. Leg and all." He weakly shook his injured limb. And more. He would do so much more. "Would it truly be sin to be in love?" Rhys mumbled to himself.

Mehira settled closer to him. "Humans are created for humans." She gently touched his side. "Woman from the rib of man."

"And who are the angels created for?"

The angel's blue flame dimmed for a moment. "Serving the Lord and the protected humans alike."

"Maybe blasphemy, but I believe you deserve more than that. I don't question it. I know now that humans are so woefully prepared for the slightest horrors of the center, and that we should abide by the rules given to us." Rhys shook his head. "But I don't like them."

"Consider still, Rhys, that the union of the protected and the angelic would bear no fruit."

Rhys wanted to ask if she was certain of that. That would be far more embarrassment than he could handle, though.

"I understand," he said finally.

Who knew what it meant for an angel to commit such a sin? He knew of how demons came to be and their place in the world. Mehira would become some sort of fallen angel, denied back into the paradise that she had come to know. While she may enjoy the Earth for its rustic quality, there was no way he could ever allow her to cast herself out from the Kingdom like that.

The man's musings were interrupted by Mehira bringing him into a loving embrace, his head settling on her chest. He sighed and returned the gesture tenfold. If time would stop at this moment, he wouldn't mind. Mehira's armor was hard, and somehow it was comforting too. Just a simple association of the mind. Mehira was his only source of comfort now in the depths of the center. The city. Where humans would once enjoy each other's company without fear of ultimate pain. They would hardly refer to it as a city, as it was now a shell of its former self. Now the only love in its towers was the misaligned attraction of the heavenly and the earthly.

Mehira pulled away with a clunk. Her arm piece came cleanly off and she set it on the glass.

"Mehira?" Rhys asked.

"An armored shell is hardly fitting for comfort."

Rhys had no response other than the speed of his heart. He watched as every piece of her peeled away to reveal her true self. The arms went first, revealing her familiar dark, marbled skin. Next the legs, which were covered in silky stockings. Finally the chest pulled free, showing what seemed like an armored vestment. An under armor that looked similar to a short dress. Rhys was surprised to see she had no second set of arms sprouting from her torso, but that thought was quickly discarded as he ate up the rest of her bare form. To finally have a complete picture of the one he spent time with was a gift he would cherish forever.

Despite the radical shift in skin, the rest of Mehira's body closely followed the human layout. Two legs, two arms, two... two quite large breasts. The armor had mostly hidden her womanly figure, and it seemed that extended to her chest, which now proudly stuck out in front of her. The hem of her under-armor, rather than fit snugly to her body, hung a small distance away due to her endowment. Pains of the flesh indeed. Lust simmered in his thoughts, mingling with the already potent thoughts of a relationship. Starting a relationship with an angel? Perhaps a small sin. Bedding them? That seemed like a ticket directly to the darkest pit within hell. Maybe Christina had a point, though.

Without another word, Mehira embraced Rhys again. While he enjoyed the gesture, his thoughts were firmly stuck to the body before him. The body that was pushing up against his. Rhys' head lay on a breast. Too much. "Mehira, I appreciate the gesture, however--" It was hard to say. "I think you're goading on those sins of the flesh." The angel did not move for a moment, then sprung back.

"I apologize!" she said, hands up. There were a few minutes of silence between them as Rhys battled with his thoughts. "I truly inspire those sensations? The arousal of the body?"

"I'll simply say your body is quite beautiful." He crossed a leg to hide some of that sin. She could see it festering in him, no doubt, but he'd at least like to obscure the physical reaction.

"My apologies." She picked up a gauntlet. "Shall I cover--"

"No. No, it's quite alright."

Mehira sidled over to him. "I did not fathom ever striking the flame of another's heart like that." She shook her head. "I find my words becoming far more loathsome."