• Nathaniel woke up to vivid spots popping in his Perivale vision, his back searing in pain. Two Sebastian’s stood above him and he groaned covering his eyes with his hand to stop the spinning. When he looked up again Sebastian was a single dark angel again. He sighed in relief, but felt dizzy. Sebastian was saying something, but Nathaniel couldn’t hear through the buzzing in his ears. He sat up, Sebastian steadying him.
    “You have a few cracked ribs and a broken wing, but you fair better than the others, especially Avaric. That elf princess can pack a punch.” He laughed glancing over at where Avaric lay.
    Nathaniel followed Sebastian’s gaze and groaned. There was a small group assembled around an unconscious Avaric. “Serves him right, that hot headed b*****d.” He laughed.
    Then he got serious and turned his attention back to Sebastian. “Should we follow them?”
    Sebastian shook his head. “He won’t come back, not now. Not after what the general told him. That was just cruel. How would that make him want to come back?”
    “But we had to try, even if it was far from the…” Avaric’s agonized cries interrupted him mid sentence.
    Sebastian sighed leaning his forehead against Nathaniel’s, Sebastian’s air tangling in his. “You get some rest. I need to go help them calm Avaric down.”
    Nathaniel watched him go, leaning his head against a tree wincing. The last thing he had remembered was watching Ezekiel flying into a well known danger zone, his knowledge blinded by pain. If only Ezekiel had known the truth about his mother. He had tried to tell him but it had gotten him in this mess. He snorted in disgust, fingering the broken wing.

    * * *

    Asmara woke up to the sound of rushing water, her cheek burning and soaking wet. She sat up groggily, looking around her. She had landed on a rock, leaving a deep gash in cheek. That was all she knew, she couldn’t remember anything else. She reached her hand slowly up and tenderly touched the raw skin and it came away covered in blood. She inched over to the water, cupping her hands to gather a small pool of water. Her gory face reflected in its clear surface. She gasped at the extent of the wound. Her left cheek was sticky with blood, clotting over a gapping hole in the side of her face. She shuttered, splashing the contents in her hand across her face and watch it drain in great green droplets into the river.
    She looked around, a lump rising in her throat when Ezekiel was nowhere in sight. What had happened to him? She took the chance to take a bath in his absence. She hadn’t taken one in it felt like ages. She stripped herself of her clothing, stepping gingerly into the raging waters. She trembled as icy water splashed up her legs, crouching down so that the cold waves came up to her shoulders. She scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin was its same pale complexion.

    * * *

    Ezekiel woke up gushing water from his lungs; a mermaid’s hands were splayed across his damp chest beating the water out of him. He opened his eyes and looked to his side.
    “Asmara?” he croaked.
    “Shh” the mermaid said, caressing his cheek.
    He turned to face her glaring. “Where is she?”
    Her eyes widened in mock innocence. “Who? I have no idea who you are talking about. I found you on the side of the river drowned half to death.”
    He stared at her confused. “There was an elf girl on my back.”
    She looked at him like he was crazy. “She was the reason you resulted to trying to kill yourself. If I hadn’t found you, you would have succeeded at doing just that. Now come, eat and drink.”
    She handed him a stone goblet and a tin plate stacked with fresh herbs. He stared at it in disgust. The mermaid raised the goblet to his lips forcing him to drink. It was very bitter and seemed to stick to his tongue. He smiled nicely as a guest should do when pampered by a host and looked around at there surroundings. They were sitting at the edge of the river he supposedly had almost drowned in. He should be grateful to her. She had saved his life, yet he felt doubt in his heart. But that doubt soon dissipated and he felt a sudden love for her. There were always legends of the mermaids’ great beauty.
    The mermaid smiled warmly at him. “I’ve been waiting for this day. In our prophecy it talks of a winged being of handsome features that we are supposed to dirty our hands to help. The mermaid that finds that being and nurses him to health is supposed to fall deeply in love with him and him her and they live together. I think you are that being and I think I am that mermaid. Can’t you feel the chemistry between us? The prophecy says that I am to fall in love at first sight. I think I am feeling these feelings. Are you not?” Her bronze brow creased in worry.
    Then the most wonderful thing happened: she blushed scarlet red and he wasn’t thirsty. He reached out his hand in wonder and she edged forward pressing her cheek against his hand. Her cheek was smooth, nothing like the myths said. Scaly and green. She closed her eyes, her lips parting. He slid his hand under her chin, making her look up at him. Her eyes were a deep set blue, pleading. He smiled kindly down at her.
    “You look as if you don’t believe the very words that come out of your mouth. Are you having doubts that I’m the being that you spoke of in the prophecy?”
    The mermaid smiled innocently up at him. “It all depends if that specific being is in love with the fair water maiden that saved him from the brink of death.” Her eyes gleamed.
    “Of course I love you.” He said without hesitation, his head feeling fuzzy.
    The mermaid smiled slipping into the water to her neck, her bronze hair fanning out, rippling in the waves. Her finger quivered, signaling him to follow her into the depths, his watery grave. He obeyed, his gold eyes glazed over. He crept closer and closer toward her until the deadly waves were up to his neck, yet he obediently followed after her. The rapids started to pull him farther along the river to a bank of sharp rocks, all the while the mermaid led him on.
    “I never got your name, my love.”
    She smiled, her eyes shining like the water racing around them. “Call me Adair.”

    * * *

    Asmara slipped her already damp clothes and felt eyes boring into her back. She turned slowly to face whatever foe she may encounter. A dark angel stood at the foot of the trees, a grim look on its face. For a brief second she hoped that the angel was Ezekiel but to her disappointment and fear it was not. The dark angel was deeply bruised and one of his wings hung limply off to one side.
    He looked behind himself into the woods and smirked. “They will probably notice that I’m gone pretty soon and come retrieve me, so I have to make this fast.
    He regarded her with agonizing eyes, obvious agony on his face. A lump formed in her throat and she stepped forward slowly. His eyes followed her movements. When she got too close her stepped back and stumbled, his balance a little off due to his injured wing. Asmara rushed forward to steady him but he had already caught his ground She tripped falling into his arms face burning. She stayed there for a few seconds in shock and pulled away looking into the strange, but somewhat familiar face of one of her enemies. He attempted a smile, but winced and stepped back. Her face creased with worry and placed a frail hand on his chest, her hand blazing with light.
    The dark angel stepped back yelping in surprise. Asmara cocked an eyebrow and touched the skin more tenderly the second time. His skin was cold to the touch. Embarrassed she concentrated on his broken wing, watching as his wing slowly popped itself back in place and had the tendons repaired. His labored breathing returned to normal and the bruises disappeared on his ribs and muscles. His tawny eyes widened and he stepped back smiling, admiring her work.
    “Thank you.” He said unsteadily, “for that and for releasing our young prince from your prison.” He kneeled down on one knee in a bow.
    Asmara looked around uncomfortably, but then got caught in his penetrating gaze. “What is it that brought you here?” She asked uneasily.
    He smiled a toothy grin, but it quickly dissolved, covered by the same sad mask she had seen him wear earlier when he had been standing at the edge of the forest. “It is regarding Prince Ezekiel.”
    She felt her heart skip a beat and her mouth go dry. “What about him?” She croaked.
    Where was he? She hadn’t seen him since, since… She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She had just remembered the sea witch, its red eyes boring into her skull when it noticed her on Ezekiel’s back. Two of the witch’s sisters had grabbed her from his back and knocked her unconscious on the rocks, and that’s where she had woken up. Her other hand rose to her cheek, feeling the smooth new skin where it had once been raw. I must have healed it instinctively while I bathed, she thought. Then her eyes narrowed.
    “How long had you been standing there?” she said, the shock and anger muffled by her hand that still lingered over her mouth.
    “Not long.” He said nonchalantly, looking bored. “I got here just in time to see your dress graze past your knees. I saw nothing else I promise.”
    Asmara turned bright scarlet and looked down ashamed. His voice seemed to brighten, loosing its mediocre tone seeing her reaction. She looked up, straightening herself, resembling a proud warrior ready for battle.
    “We need to head further down the river. The water sprites nest near the falls. That’s where we will find Ezekiel.
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