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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/465640
Rated: 18+ · Book · Fantasy · #1155006
Peace marks the end of war; it does not mark the end of trouble.
#465640 added May 18, 2008 at 2:33am
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Angel
The first thing Seraph saw upon regaining consciousness was a large and strange flower hanging over his head. Its petals were scarlet with faint green stripes on either side. He would have expected the colours to clash, but somehow, they blended harmoniously. "How beautiful," he murmured.

"There is nothing beautiful about our situation!"

Seraph sat up and winced as pain stabbed his head. He waited until it dissipated before looking around. To his left lay a mess of mud, branches and rock, with the broken remains of a wagon half-buried in them. The enchanted road, he knew, was somewhere above them, but he could not see it. To his right, Combustion tended a small fire. The Furan had a few bruises on his arms and a scratch near one eye, but he seemed otherwise fine. Seraph himself sat on a thick, brown rug and under a low tree.

"You were unconscious for a long time," Combustion said in response to his questioning gaze. "I have already treated our wounds, recovered what I can from the wreck, changed our clothes and prepared a late lunch."

Changed his clothes? Seraph did not wish to dwell on the fact that he was undressed by his captor, so he changed the topic. "A late lunch?"

"You hit your head very hard and now it is almost sunset, see?"

Combustion pointed to the sky and Seraph gasped. The first hints of orange were indeed appearing on the clouds above them. He marvelled that they had survived in Skeleton Forest and off the enchanted road for so long. "Any trouble so far?"

"No." Combustion brought him a bowl filled with steaming soup and Seraph's stomach rumbled when he caught a whiff of it. "Perhaps the landslide frightened the creatures away, but we can't rely on luck for much longer, so we will begin travelling as soon as you finish your meal."

"The horses?"

Combustion carelessly waved his hand towards the muddy landscape. "They are under there somewhere."

His heart fell. The poor horses, he thought, but then he brightened. "But we can still climb back onto the path, right?"

"What?" The fire mage stared at Seraph with a mixture of surprise, contempt and concern. "Has that landslide smothered your good sense entirely or did the Academy fail to educate you properly? Mount Treachery is still soaked with rainwater and another landslide is possible. I would flee at the first opportunity.

"You and I cannot return to the path anyway. Its spell ensures that no magic enters it from within the forest. Since we are mages, we must leave this forsaken place before we can use the road again."

"We were pushed off the road-"

Seraph would have argued further, but he stopped when Combustion's eyes narrowed dangerously. For a tense moment, the fire mage's face reddened and then, with considerable effort, he regained some composure and said, "The spell was designed so that any magical creature that somehow enters the path-perhaps by leaving the forest and following the road back inside-would be able to step or fly off it easily. After all, we would not want a trapped and enraged chimaera to waylay travellers.

"Are you sure your teachers did not teach you this?"

"I only paid attention to my flight lessons," Seraph admitted.

Combustion rolled his eyes. "You were prepared for a life of great power and responsibility, and you barely bothered with your studies? Well, at least remember this: many plants here have magical properties. Avoid touching them or smelling their flowers and definitely do not eat from them, not even their berries. After all, I am supposed to bring you to Angalas alive."

That reminded Seraph of his food and he lifted his spoon. The soup was like nothing he had ever tasted. Although alien in flavour, the tang intrigued him and he ate rapidly. He barely looked up as Combustion walked around, putting out the fire, checking the washed clothes he'd hung on branches and packing various objects into a large bag. Somehow, despite the devastation around them, Seraph felt content.

As soon as he finished his meal, Combustion squatted beside him again. "I apologize for the food; I added some spices normally used in Furan cooking before I thought of what a Sentralian may prefer."

"Oh, I think the meal was delicious," Seraph said hurriedly. Now that he had had his fill, he felt guilty for allowing the fire mage to do all the work. "I...uh...thanks for everything."

Combustion seemed taken aback by this. As the flight mage watched in puzzlement, he opened his mouth, shut it and finally shook his head and stood, Seraph's bowl in hand. He began to walk away, but suddenly, he turned and pushed the Sentralian back. Surprised, Seraph almost fell off the rug and onto the soggy ground. "What are you doing?" he almost screamed.

"Quiet!" Combustion hissed, even as he manoeuvred behind the flight mage. "It's a cloud giant."

"A what?"

Seraph looked up and beheld a white form with a semi-spherical body almost twice his size. Attached to it were nine arms shaped rather like octopus tentacles, but it had no eyes, nose or even a mouth, unless its mouth was the slit that ran from one side of its underbelly to the other. The monster floated serenely without the aid of wings. It showed no sign yet that it was aware of the pair hiding under a tree, but Seraph felt exposed. Did the creature have a magical means of sensing him?

Apparently, it could at least sense their camp. The cloud giant stopped, prodding the clothes and other items Combustion had left behind. One tentacle poked into the doused remains of the campfire and suddenly jerked back to reveal a burn on its tip. It drew air through its slit, perhaps in pain or in anger, before extending its tentacles in all directions. Seraph inched back as one drew near, even as he felt Combustion tense behind him.

It abruptly moved away from them though. Instead, every tentacle dug into a mound of mud and pulled out a-

Horse!

The animal was obviously dead and filthy, but Seraph recognized it as one of the horses that had pulled the wagon. The cloud giant hauled it by one hind leg, up and up towards the slit. Except that it was not a slit any more; it was a gaping mouth. The creature stuffed the corpse-mud and all-inside.

Seraph gagged. Combustion clamped a hand over his mouth and the flight mage did not attempt to remove it, concentrating instead on keeping his own lunch inside. This was made much more difficult when the monster began undulating to crush its meal. Seraph clearly heard the sounds of bones snapping and half-digested flesh sloshing around its cavity. The sounds continued for what seemed like an eternity. Just as Seraph felt that he could bear it longer, it spat out the remainder, a jagged mass of bone, bile and dirt.

But the now-bloated beast was not done yet. It reached again into the mounds of dirt to pull out the other horse. Seraph feared that it would consume that corpse too, but it simply floated away with the prize in its tentacles.

He did not dare to move or say anything until Combustion removed his hand from his mouth. "Couldn't you have used your fire powers?" he asked.

Combustion snorted. "And inform every forest creature within ten miles of our presence? Don't be ridiculous! We were lucky to escape this time. Cloud giants may have poor eyesight-"

"I saw no eyes."

"If you will stop interrupting! Cloud giants have eyes, but these are difficult to observe because they lie under a protective, membranous layer. That membrane means that everything looks fuzzy to them."

"So it wouldn't see me in my green tunic and brown trousers."

"As long as you kept quiet. Unfortunately, my red clothing clashed with our surroundings and I had to hide behind you. Even so...anyway, it seems the monster was too busy gorging itself to notice us."

"But how did it find the horses when they were still and camouflaged?"

"I am not your encyclopaedia!" He paused. "However, I do know that they normally travel in packs. The other members of its group are nearby, so we must leave now."

---

After one day and one night, Combustion felt more uneasy than ever and it had little to do with Seraph. The prisoner had been largely silent ever since the fire mage had moved the charm from his arm to relieve his increasing back pain. Combustion doubted that Seraph was much more comfortable dragging one leg behind him, but as long as he did not complain, it did not matter.

Did their excruciatingly slow pace bother him? Absolutely. They were in a dangerous area, they were forced to move carefully and Seraph was weighed down by his charm. On the other hand, the flight mage was stronger than he looked and they seemed to be making better progress than expected. Combustion was certain they would leave the cursed forest before their supplies ran out-if they survived. Afterwards, he could buy food at a nearby Western town.

So if things were going this well, why was he so anxious?

Seraph touched Combustion's arm and signalled a request for a rest. When the fire mage nodded, the Sentralian sat upon a log with a sigh of relief, rubbing his aching leg. Combustion was almost as weary as he was, but he let his burden down gently and leant against a tree with outward nonchalance. He would not allow his prisoner to see any weakness!

Their baggage was becoming a big problem. He had already discarded his garments, wearing Seraph's slightly oversized (but more camouflaging) clothes instead. He'd also reluctantly relieved himself of several items that he'd been asked to transport into Sentralia, but he still carried far too much and he could not expect help from Seraph, who seemed even more weary.

Combustion massaged his aching back and rummaged through one bag, ready to defend the pair should Seraph made the smallest cry of alarm. His fingers brushed a tin of biscuits, only to have it roll beneath the spare clothes. Curbing a desire to burn through the bag, he delved deeper. As he did, he felt a long, wooden object at the very bottom.

He had almost forgotten about the recorder. Seraph, most likely, had not, but he either did not dare to ask about it while Combustion was tense or he'd assumed that his precious instrument was lost. The fire mage was more than happy to return this extra weight, no matter how slight it was. He pulled it out.

A small gasp left Seraph's lips when he saw it, rather than the biscuit he had been expecting. He eagerly extended his hand and, upon receiving it, examined it for damage. Combustion could not help but smile in amusement as he raised a finger to his lips. Don't play it, he mouthed and Seraph nodded. The instrument disappeared beneath his cloak.

At least Seraph could be quiet and cooperative, the fire mage thought. After the incident at the castle and up until the cloud giant's appearance, he hadn't been sure of that.

Combustion reached into the bag again, his thoughts returning to the puzzle. Why was he so uneasy when Seraph was being more cooperative-and sensible-than he had expected, when they have avoided serious injury and when they have neither seen nor heard any creature more dangerous than a crow since that cloud giant? They were now far from the landslide and surely many dangerous beasts lived here, but-

"Something must be preventing those monstrous animals from attacking us," he murmured in surprise. "What do you think, Seraph?"

The flight mage blinked. "What do I think?" he said hesitantly. "Well, I have heard of children and daring youths entering this forest and never coming out. Landis said he knew a boy who went inside to retrieve a ball. He was not even out of sight when a pack of trolls tore him to pieces. This place almost gorges itself on trespassers."

"Then we must have been protected the whole time. What I do not understand is why."

"This is because I need an escort to Angalas."

The mages whirled around, searching for the new voice. Combustion expected a troll or goblin or similar humanoid creature, so he was astounded to observe what appeared to be a golden-haired angel making his way awkwardly through the trees.

Seraph sank to his knees. "I would be most honoured to help you reach Angalas, sir," he said.

"Stop that," Combustion said to Seraph. He turned to the stranger. "You should know it is against the law to impersonate an angel, form mage. Show me who you really are and I may decide not to imprison you."

The stranger seemed startled. "I assure you, I am an angel," he replied. "My name is Caleb, of the rank of Angel. I descended from the heavens three days ago and my superiors informed me that they would send two mages, named Seraph and Combustion, to aid me. Every angel know of Seraph; therefore, you must be the one called Combustion."

"Amusing," Combustion said sarcastically. "I could make up a better story than that."

Caleb frowned. "I knew your names without being told."

"Perhaps you listened to our conversation. I recall that I called Seraph by name and how many Furan mages travelled to Sudenland recently? Just one."

"And you do not consider it strange that you and Seraph survived a landslide that killed your horses, walked unmolested in-"

"What?" Seraph interrupted. "Why would angels cause the landslide that killed those poor animals?"

Caleb smiled kindly. "They did not. A few days of heavy showers caused the landslide and you, Combustion and the horses were fated to be caught up in it. Fortunately, the angels have rescued you."

"Enough!" Combustion snapped. "Our good fortune may be unlikely, but if you do not prove your claim, you can stay away."

"Combustion, you can't say that to him!" Seraph cried.

"Quiet. I do not know all the secrets of this Forest and he may be luring us into a trap. Until I know what's going on-come no closer!"

Caleb stopped as Combustion raised a threatening hand. "Fool," he seethed, "I have already proven myself, or do you wish to observe my angelic strength?"

"Don't bother. A form mage can duplicate an angel's physical traits, including inhuman strength. If you are truly an angel, you should be able to use magic in ways few of those mages could imitate." With that, he produced a ball of fire, which hovered over his palm. "You can shield yourself, douse the flame or evade by flying away, if your claim is true. Otherwise, you can surrender or burn!"

Caleb gaped in disbelief and terror as Combustion prepared to throw the flame. "You...you cannot mean...you do not understand! I lost my magic when I fell, just like the previous angel, Nahum. Fellow angels," he cried to the sky, "save me from this madman!"

"MADMAN?"

Seraph tackled him just as he flung the fireball. They fell together and wrestled on the ground. Even encumbered by the charm, the flight mage was surprisingly strong. Knowing that he would soon be pinned down, Combustion created a spark right in front of Seraph's face. The flight mage instinctively flinched back and Combustion shoved him out of his way. He staggered to his feet, searching for Caleb.

Caleb was unhurt and had not moved an inch, but these were not what surprised Combustion most. Surrounding the angel was a semi-transparent shield in the form of a glowing dome.

"Is this proof enough for you?"
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