Brid is worried about me, and wants me to come back and rest again, but I really am fine. And I need to write about this. I need to work, to accomplish something of worth—it will do my spirit good.
When we began our flight last night, I was positioned at the far left, with only Ophell beyond me. On my other side was Della, a Power with a radiant smile and a swift eye. I was very glad to have her next to me.
It was something to see when we took flight! A dozen and three young warriors, descending through the warm, dark night to fly over the affected region, seeking out coldness and cruelty.
As my training has continued, I have learned that there are subtle differences between the auras of different kinds of the Fallen. They all radiate cold, of course, but in a Violence that cold is penetrating, while a Spite or a Perjury puts off a more subtle chill. With Apostates, I have already learned, the cold lingers in the mouth with a taste of iron, or rather blood.
To be told these things and to experience them are two very different things.
We spread out as we flew, stretching ourselves so far that at times I could not see either Ophell or Della. It was at one of these times that I first began to feel strange. It was not that I was tired, precisely, for I had spent all day in heaven at rest, preparing for the mission. It was more that it felt like such a bother to continue to fly through the dark when I could be doing anything else.
Why was I doing this, anyway? I thought to myself. I should be with Freya, or checking in on Alex, or on patrol looking out for others. Any of that would be a better use of my time. So why am I here? I wondered.
It was that last thought that surprised me most. Our seniors had requested this of us, and so of course I would do as they asked. Why would I even question their orders?
It was then that I realized that the wind on which I was drifting had a decided coolness to it.
I stopped short and flung out my senses, and for a moment I thought I heard the sweep of a pair of wings, but then the wind picked up, whistling in just that way past my face, and I thought perhaps I had been wrong.
Still, I reached out to Ophell and Della, just to see where they were.
It was a bewildering moment. Ophell had stopped in midair, too, but not in search of anything—he felt that he did not know where he was, that he was lost. And Della was paralyzed with fear, convinced that something was coming after her.
The combination of these sensations was numbing, and as I tried to sort through them, I felt another wave of dismay and weariness. I shouldn’t be here, I thought. I should be at home with Freya, watching over her in the soft light of her reading lamp.
It was as if I could see her in that moment, curled up in the corner of the sofa, one hand moving along the back of a purring cat. I wanted so desperately to be there, instead of where I was, in the lonely night.
But then she looked up, suddenly, her brow creasing, and her brown eyes flashed gold, and suddenly my mind was clear.
“Apathy,” I cried aloud. “They have scouts of their own! Ophell, take my position!”
I heard a faint squeal then, and Ophell turned to me, his own thoughts clearing. We swept past one another in the darkness, and I bore down on a tiny knot of coldness, a snarl of misdirection that felt like a headache just behind my eyes. I seized it out of the air and whirled around, holding it fast, even as it scrabbled at my wrists and hissed unrecognizable words.
In the place where I had been, Ophell was stooping after a flutter of ice in the wind, its cold heavy and draining. He did not touch it, but rather knocked it out of the sky and turned to me. “Mine was a Confusion, then?” he asked, slightly breathless. “Have you got it? Should you be holding it so close?”
“My heart is hardened, never fear, brother,” I told him, over the whining of my captive. “Sound the alarm, and then we must find Della. I think there may also be a Nightmare with us tonight.”
He murmured a prayer and swept up through the air, calling to the Cherubs. A moment later Orison was there, and the Fallen’s moans turned to shrieks.
“Allow me,” Orison said and seized the creature, his Eye burning. I flew away before I could see him draw his weapon, but I heard its last scream.
I could see Della, trembling but safe in the shadow of Nodayimani’s wings. There was no trace of the Nightmare which had caught her except for a shiver on the wind. All the other scouts had turned to come around us, but they were high above now, the search cut off by the arrival of our seniors. I started to join them behind the line of the Cherubs’ weapons, then stopped short, remembering that flash of Freya’s eyes.
How could I go back to her, knowing that I had wasted this night? Having been discovered, the Fallen would go deep underground, and perhaps we would not find them. Perhaps they would linger in the region, and perhaps they would find Freya.
I took a breath, and in that moment I realized that the Apathy that had touched me still had a connection to me.
But connections go two ways. I spun in midair and dove down, following the trail.
I heard Orison cry out to me, but I could not tell if he were urging me onward or trying to call me back. I did not pause to find it out, sweeping my wings to hasten my fall. The Fallen was faster than I, but my pursuit frightened it, and I could hear it chattering with fear as it fled.
And then it vanished into a mass of icy sickness, and I flung out my wings, desperately trying to stop myself from falling into the sea of dishonesty, feeling them reach for me, their sickening hands telling me things that were not true—
“Here!” I cried. “Here!”
And Orison’s blade came crackling down beside me, crashing into the invisible masses, and on my other side N’am fell like a star into the shadows, and Nodayimani was crying out in triumph. The battle spun around me, and I turned and fled back to heaven, the cold weighing down my wings.
I have not been able to stop trembling since then. Eburnean came to scold me, telling me that I was a fool to plunge into the fight, that I pushed myself too far. I know that they are right, of course. But my judgment was altered by that Apathy, and I felt that I had to do something, anything, to prove that it still didn’t have a hold of me. I still feel that, a little.
Still, Orison was pleased by the outcome of the evening. The enemy forces were discovered and routed, with fewer than ten escaping the Cherubs, and he believes those few will be so frightened that they will go into hiding and not cause any mischief for some time. So it was worthwhile, and all will be well again soon.
Brid says if I write one more word she will have Eburnean knock me up the head and lock me up in the Asylum for a week. So I am going to rest, as my Healer has ordered.