The days leading up to Isabels' funeral passed Cael by in a
dark haze. Alone in the room they had shared he sat on the floor,
legs sprawled out before him, his back propped against the bed. All
the light had gone from his topaz eyes, and his long white hair hung
matted in his face. Their children and grand-children had tried
desperately to stir him from his tormented thoughts, to no avail.
He was lost to them all in the maelstrom of his own private sea of
grief. Nearly half a fortnight passed with him in this condition,
until Llew somehow broke through the shell and got into his
conscious thought with his words. He kneeled by the only father he
had ever known, placing his hand on Cael's shoulder. "Pa-pa", he
said in a voice filled with quiet urgency, "Ma-ma's funeral is on
the morrow. You must come out of this funk and get yourself cleaned
up so you can attend. It would pain ma-ma greatly to see you in
this state. Please pa-pa, for her sake; with you grieving over her
like this, she may not even be able to go on to the next world.
Please begin to move on so she can, pa-pa." Something in his words
resonated within Cael and, for the first time in days, he lifted his
head and looked at Llew. "Thank you, son", he said in a voice
hoarse from misuse. With that he stood--his joints stiff from
sitting for so long--and hugged Llew. He then turned and headed for
his bath, realizing it had been far too long since he had taken one,
and turned the hot water on in the old, claw-foot tub. He took his
shirt off as the tub filled, and turned his back to the mirror in
order to see the spot between his shoulder-blades where his wings
had been. It was an angry red colour and slightly swollen, with
dips in his shoulder-blades where his wings had attached to their
sockets. Being sunk too deeply into his grief to notice their
soreness, he winced as he touched one of the now-empty sockets.
Deciding a good soak was just what they needed, he quickly but
thoroughly washed his hair in the bowl-basin and wrapped it with a
towel, then, after turning the water in the tub off, he finished
undressing and slipped into the tub to soak for a few hours and to
contemplate upon what he should do next.
He knew an emissary from Avalon would be coming for him soon,
and that he would be tried by the High Court. This did not concern
him, for he felt that, aside from giving her his wings, he had done
nothing wrong. Although he knew that an Angel giving up its wings
was a very serious offence, he didn't care. He wanted to imprint
something upon her spiritual memory that couldn't be forgotten so
they could one day find each other again. Not knowing that it was
of such significance as to change the composition of her spirit, he
gave her his wings. Having no regrets, he climbed out of the tub
and drained the water, then headed for his dressing room. Finding a
suit of grey clothing, he put them on, grey being an
uncharacteristic colour for him, and tied his hair back. After that, he
laid out his only black suit for the morrows' funeral service. He
then went down to the dining room, his human family waiting round
the dinner table for him to join them, and all looked quite relieved
when he did. Giving them a melancholy smile, he sat down and
thanked the cook for making such a large meal, then began to eat
slowly and without relish. Seeing him eat for the first time in
nearly a week, they all began eating too, and the gathering remained
silent. Cleaning his plate, he stood and bowed to them all, then
headed back upstairs to his room to try to get some sleep.
It was raining heavily that morning as the people of Crystal
Port began to file into the ballroom of Morningstar Keep for the
funeral of Isabel Southerland. They gave their condolences to the
family, and then paid their last respects to Isabel. Cael had been
with her until the doors had been opened. He had laid a single,
deep-red rose off her favourite rose bush in her hands and touched
her cheek. "Hail and farewell for now, my love", he whispered
softly to her. "'For in the next life, ye shall meet again, and ye
shall know, and remember, and love them again.'" When the ushers
swung the doors open, he had retreated to a corner and sat down,
folding his hands in his lap. He merely nodded to the people who
offered him condolences, keeping his head down and only half-
listening to the prayer, eulogy and sermon spoken over her. When
the pallbearers walked down the aisle to retrieve her coffin and
take it to the gravesite, he was the first to stand and follow. He
had chose the site the previous day, having some of the stepping
stones in the rose garden removed so that she could be laid to rest
in her favourite spot, which was in the centre of the garden, with a
good view of the stream and forest on one side and a good view of
the city and ocean on the other. She had spent many hours of her
life in that spot, tending the flowers, lost in her own thoughts;
and with Cael and their family as well. Now, as they had begun to
cover her coffin with earth, Caels tossed another rose from her
favourite bush on top of her coffin and pulled Llew aside. "Son,"
he whispered, "I want you to make me a promise. I want you and your
children to tend this place, keep it in good condition for your
mother, and for my return." Llew's brows furrowed. "Where are you
going, pa-pa?" Cael shushed him and continued. "That's not
important. I just want you to do this for me, and your children,
and your children's children, as long as your generations will
last." Mesmerized, Llew nodded silently, and then bowed. "I will
not fail you, pa-pa; you have my word. "Thank you, my son," Cael
said as he returned the bow, and with that, he turned and headed
back into the house to wait for the emissary to take him back to
Avalon and face his judgment.
It was near the witching hour when he finally heard the
rustle of wings outside his window. He had been sitting in a chair,
waiting patiently, his hands folded in his lap. Now he stood, his
shoulders square and his head held high, anxious to see exactly who
the High Court had sent to retrieve him. He was a bit surprised
when his mother, accompanied by two huge Seraphim, stepped through
the open window and into the room. She wore a russet-coloured cloak
made of crushed velvet over a ruddy copper-coloured gown, her
slippers a hue of sienna. There was much pain in her eyes, and she
didn't speak as she motioned the Seraphim to seize him and turned
back towards the open window, spreading her wings for flight. They
half-nodded to her and walked over to Cael, each grabbing one of his
arms, walking him over to the window sill before leaping into the
air and taking flight behind Aradia. Cael sagged in their grip, the
balls of his shoulders turning in an uncomfortable angle, but he did
not struggle.
Cael's arms were numb by the time they reached the Hall of
the High Court of Avalon. They didn't take him to a holding cell;
instead, they cuffed his hands and shackled his legs, then led him
into the court room. It was midday then, and the flight had been
long and quite painful for him. They led him over to a chair and he
flopped gratefully into it, the feeling beginning to come back in
his shoulders. His entire back was a throbbing knot of pain, and as
the blood flowed back into his shoulders and arms, they joined in
the chorus. Despite this, he kept a straight face, not wanting to
disgrace himself any further. He was quite exhausted and wanted to
sleep, but because of where he was and the intensity of the pain he
held his eyes open and kept his mind focused. The room was already
full of spectators, some of which he knew, and they were all
whispering gossip as they awaited the proceedings to start. The
whispers died down when a young Angel in crimson robes flitted in,
her lavender winglets with a mere fluff covering of feathers and her
red hair tied in a ponytail. She looked over the room and cleared
her throat, then pulled a scroll from her sleeve and unrolled it,
shouting unnecessarily the information therein, "Hear ye hear ye
hear ye! May the trial of Cael Uriel Morningstar come to order! The
judge presiding, the Right Honourable Lord Cevaro has been replaced
by request, by another judge! Please honour him by standing and
bowing!" The mass of spectators and the Seraphim guarding Cael all
stood, so Cael slowly and sorely did the same. A gasp of awe,
followed by a synchronized bow, went like a shockwave through the
courtroom as He entered.
Cael uttered a little gasp of shock, and then fell prostrate
when he saw Him. He wore a simple monks' robe made of heavy cotton
that was of the same shade of grey as His eyes and hair. He also
sported a pair of large wings of the same shade, which was unusual
for Him, as He preferred to go without wings. Walking behind the
judges' podium, he raised the gavel and proclaimed in a quiet voice
that was heard at the back of the room and made the walls
shudder, "Court is now in session." He lightly tapped the gavel,
and the sound echoed throughout the room. Everyone then sat back
down, eyes fixed upon Him, and Cael quavered in his chair. Never in
all his thousands of years had he ever been in the presence of God.
Bran's solemn eyes fixed on Cael, and He motioned him
forward. "Cael Morningstar, please take the stand." Cael stood,
and shakily made his way to the stand, a great fear welling up
inside him. Slowly, he sat down in the witness box and began to
fidget, not having expected to be tried by the Supreme Power.
Bran's melancholy grey eyes were still fixed on him, and that made
him even more uneasy. Quietly, Bran began to ask him
questions. "Cael, you are charged with altering the destiny of
twenty mortals, altering the soul of a mortal and giving up your
wings to a mortal of your own free will, thereby disgracing
yourself. How do you plead?" Cael folded his shackled hands in his
lap, trying not to wince with the pain, and answered with more
conviction than he felt, "Guilty. I plead guilty to all three
charges, Your Honour." Bran nodded; Cael's answer satisfactory, and
continued. "Then, since you plead guilty and there is no jury,
shall I just sentence you? I've already reviewed the case, and
there are other trials scheduled. I just wanted to handle this one
personally and get it over with for everyone." He looked at Cael,
compassion in His strange, grey eyes, and awaited an answer. Cael
was taken aback that such arrangements would be made just to
accommodate him, and all he could manage was a small nod. Bran
nodded curtly in reply. "Very well then. I hereby sentence you to
become harsh and cold, never to be kind to mortals or otherwise as
long as you shall live this life. Do you accept your punishment?"
Cael thought about the great burden he had just been saddled with,
his blood running cold. It was completely contradictory to his
nature and he knew he would cause himself and all those around him
great pain from that moment on, and he knew it was his only path to
repentance. He looked up at Bran, his eyes filled with
anguish. "Yes. I accept my punishment." With that Bran stood and
motioned the Seraphim to remove Cael's shackles. "This court is now
adjourned", He said, tapping the gavel. He gave a last, pained look
at Cael as if to say, I'm sorry, then turned and vanished from the
room. Cael watched Him fade as the Seraphim took his shackles off.
With that he stood, and walked out of the Hall, heading home to his
Castle, his head swimming, his muscles throbbing, and his heart
aching.
. . .
"…And I haven't been kind to another living soul since" he
said, finishing his story. With that, he unbuttoned his waistcoat
and threw it aside, then did the same with his shirt, the scar where
his wings had been still clear and quite visible to Cain. Cain cast
his eyes downward, not speaking as Cael turned around and began to
speak again. "I've gone back to the keep every year since she died,
not speaking to anyone, and just sit by her grave. I talk to her
sometimes, and even though its been so long, I still weep every time
I go…" Cain looked up at his brother's face, and noted that he
looked as if he had been crying silently for several hours. "Now
you see, brother", Cael continued, "That there is no love as pure as
a mortals'. She stayed with me, despite the fact that I could not
commit myself to her, and despite the fact that I could not give her
what she wanted most. She loved me anyway; loved me with her entire
being, and I her…and I miss her so, even now…" Cael could no longer
control the grief that had been building for so long, and he fell to
his knees and wept bitterly. Cain reached out to him and Cael
slapped his hand away, then leapt up, glaring at him and drew
Galileo, aiming it at Cain's throat. "Now, you bast ard, we have a
score to settle," Cael growled. "Let's finish his."
At that moment, there was a loud crash outside and the tavern
shuddered. Cael dropped the point of his blade from Cain's throat
to the floor, and they both stared in the direction that the sound
came from, which was the tavern's front door. The door slammed
open, and there stood a girl of about sixteen summers, wearing a
leopard-print jacket with furry sleeves and collar, Lime green jeans
with the knees ripped out and a pink feather boa around her neck .
Her tall platform boots here calf-high, made of bright red faux fur
with google eyes mounted on the toes and teeth printed into the tall
soles. Her hair was the same blue as a summer sky, and her eyes
glowed pink like sunrise. Behind her she dragged a large scythe,
the blade of which glowed blue and was covered in holographic, fuzzy
and scratch n' sniff stickers, the handle painted like flames. She
stomped in angrily and muttered, "Who in the hell locked the damn
door?" She walked a few paces past the two, who were staring at her
as if she were an alien, then realized who they were. Excitedly,
she wheeled about and leapt on Cain, squealing with delight. "Uncle
Cain! You guys are home!" She then leapt from him to Cael. "Hiya
Cael! When did you guys get back anyway?" Both still in shock,
Cael put his rapier away and Cain sat back down. "We got in
yesterday", Cain replied, noting the rising sun. "How have you and
your folks been, Skye? It seems we've been away longer than we
knew." "They're good" she replied, "And you two have been gone for
way too long." She then turned to Cael. "I have something for you,
but I changed them. I hope you don't mind. You can change them
back at any time, but I feel like it's time for me to give these
back to you." With that, she put her hand on his chest, and they
both began to glow. After a few moments, she backed away and grinned
impishly. Cael tipped backward, a new weight on his back, and
leaned forward to steady himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he
saw something gleam, and he turned his head to look. It was a
glittering white wing, but instead of being covered in feathers, it
was covered in scales. His eyes grew large, and he
muttered, "Dragon wings…" Then, looking at Skye, the spark of
recognition began to burn in his eyes like wildfire. "Th-then… you
must be…" She put her finger on his lips, shushing him and gave him
a conspiratorial wink. "Yeah, I remember you," she said with a
smirk, "And it's been a long time." She began to walk towards the
bar, and said over her shoulder, "Oh, and by the way, you can quit
being an ass now. That sentence was lifted from you when you went
into The Void." He stared unbelievingly after her, unable to speak,
and Cain smiled. Cael shook his head to clear his mind, then
concentrated on a new distraction—his wings. He turned them from
dragon wings back to Angel wings, and then back again before making
them disappear for the time being. "I'll have to get used to them
again, but I think I like them better as dragon wings. Thank you,
Skye." She plopped down on a barstool, orange soda in hand and
nodded. "They were yours to begin with". His vendetta against Cain
forgotten, he walked over to the bar and sat on the barstool next to
hers, and stared into his bottle of white zinfandel for a long
moment before finally looking up at her. "Do you think we can ever
be like we were?" he asked. She pondered it for a moment, then
finally replied, "Perhaps in time; but we have to get to know each
other all over again first". She looked at him slyly, and he
grinned at his friend's daughter, propping an elbow on the bar. "I think I have time for
that," he said coyly. She grinned, and replied, "I think I do, too."
. . .
…And somewhere in The Void, Bran
smiled.
