Chapter VII

Rage

So we’ve begun. I feel slightly held back by the party that follow me, but I can’t fight the vampyre myself. No - all I can do is coerce others into doing it for me. This is my battle as much as theirs: my bitter struggle against my own creation. This is the reason I'm shunned by my own people. I have nowhere to go and forget about it all. I can't lock myself away. I'm stuck here in the mess I made.

So it’s strange that I feel hopeful. The last time I fought in this battle, the odds were against me. Now I have a trained - for lack of a better word - warrior, a powerful mage and an entire back history of the vampyre. I couldn't have asked for better weapons. I know the vampyre has a few secrets still hidden, but in all honesty, he can't be that powerful.

We seem to be headed towards the mountain. The mountain in the middle of Yrfeland is simply called The Mountain and it looms over the hidden village of Geghis. We could travel through there and I could finally recruit Blaze; a warrior I placed there quite a while ago, but I don‘t want to play that card unless I have to. It's not the warrior himself who’s strong, but simply the weapon he wields.

It's dangerous to say the least. It took a congregation of my kind to create it, thus making it unique to the entire world. It grants the user increased speed, strength, senses, basically makes them as strong as a vampyre. I led Blaze to the sword a good few years ago, mostly because I thought it would be beneficial to have it nearby in this, my sixth struggle.

But I think it's best I leave Blaze out of this. I've grown fond of him over the years and the blade is so powerful... if it fell into the wrong hands- if it fell into Oris' hands... well that could be the one thing my super-party could be destroyed by. We still have quite a distance to travel, so I can always change my mind.

Jem's growing on me. It might just be in comparison to Ivy who's the most irritating creature I've ever had the misfortune to meet. Jem’s patience knows no bounds; he listens to her stories with what I'm pretty sure is interest, but there must be a part of him that's preoccupied; worrying about his friend. I wish I could hate Jem, it would make the decisions I have to make much easier, but by introducing myself to the group, I’ve been able to direct them much more effectively. Being forced to build relationships with them is just a simple drawback to that. What’s amazing is that it’s the only one I’ve faced.

As I watch my companions I can’t help but think that there must be some drawback here. One of these people - these weapons - must pose some hidden threat. It's true that the fairies power appears to have been waning as time goes by, but this is too much... this is too easy.

Jem’s only use is to provide information. There’s the slim chance Jem might be able to convince Oris to stop his scheme, but I think the chances of that are slim at best. The important thing is that he's of no use to the vampyre. Even if the vampyre somehow manages to convince Jem that he's on the wrong side or even if he manages to turn him... what threat could Jem honestly pose? He's just a normal kid.

Then there’s Oflor: He's a tragedy in himself. He was allegedly turned into a toy when he was a child. I know how unpredictable magick is so I can only imagine whoever did the casting was very powerful and, at the same time, very inexperienced. As pathetic as he looks, he's powerful. Despite weakening himself recently I still sense that aura of energy from him.

He’s old too, I reckon. He has to be old if he has that much power at his disposal. Anyway, I have a very hard time believing he would turn on me... but then those with power are so hard to predict especially those who use magick. But I've checked his history and he's been fighting for good as far back as I can see so it’s very unlikely he’d ever want to help Oris.

All that’s left is Ivy. She's strong and she's human: That’s always a problem. Strong humans are a target for vampyre. In a single bite, a vampyre's enemy can become his ally. Sure, it takes a week for the change to take effect, but once you've received that bite, there's no going back. You could kill as many vampyre as you want, but it won't stop the change; it won’t stop the hunger taking you. Some people even embrace the change before it actually happens. I don’t know what drives such people, it's chilling though... the notion that you're going to die and there's nothing you can do about it, maybe that’s all it takes to push someone over the edge.

Because that's what it is, really: Death. The vampyre may keep you're memories and remnants of your personality, but their view shifts immediately upon turning. They don't care about the family or friends they once had. They don’t care about anything other than themselves… and maybe other vampyre as well.

Of course I'm biased. Us angels are closer to humans than any other creature. So we see the vampyre as a kind of disease eating through mankind, whereas the vampyre see themselves as evolution. I guess it's all to do with your viewpoint. As an angel I really shouldn't care, but I've been exiled into this world so I don‘t really have a choice. As an angel, I’m forced to care.

Us angels rarely feel compassion; but we understand responsibility. Long ago we used to meddle in human affairs: We used to care. We fought in wars, aided great human warriors... but those days are long gone. I tried to make things better once-and-for-all and I sealed the fate of the world quite literally. My intent was pure but my actions well... they speak for themselves. The world became what it is. The angels gave up and went back to the city, escaping from the world and simply accepted defeat. They exiled me. As I said; angels rarely feel compassion, but we always punish the irresponsible and that’s what they did to me.

So I'm here, fruitlessly trying to stop the mess I created. It's been so long since it started. For over a thousand years I've been fighting, then waiting, then fighting, then waiting... every time I lose. The fairies are always one step ahead... but then that's how I made them. I stopped appreciating the irony of the situation a long time ago: my greatest success has been my greatest failure.

Presently, my group trudges onwards, through solid grasslands. There are no trees nearby and I’m aware that we're getting closer and closer to Geghis. I still haven't made up my mind. The bear has been directing us for two days always in a steady direction. Occasionally he'll give some vague ideas of what the vampyre is thinking or feeling. It's not that I don't appreciate the effort but comments like 'he's hungry' or ' he wants to turn someone' are kind of obvious and don't require the judgement of a mystical, talking toy, especially one who can only report it in rhyme.

"I wonder why he's not turned anybody," Jem says with a hint of satisfaction. He obviously thinks that the beast is capable of rational thought and doesn't want to kill.

I sigh first, just to express my impatience. "First, Jem. We don't know what he's done or what he's doing. All we know is that he wants to turn someone. As I said earlier; he's restricted. He has to turn someone strong. He's rising an army. Whoever he turns will need to be able to take care of themselves. Second of all, he might be stupid, hungry or both and just turn someone anyway. For all we know the reason he can't turn anyone is because he's already off-ed some random passer-by and has to wait a week to turn another person." I'm surprised how human my voice sounds. Perhaps it's stress. I always get like this the closer we get to the end.

"I tried to explain all of that to him, but he won't listen...", Ivy's voice cuts into me like a thousand stupid, irritating, little crows. “He thinks everyone should just get along. He needs to get a grip.”

"For my sanity and the love of all that is pure", I speak quietly and forcefully, "Please shut the hell up!" I don’t know where this is coming from, but I continue. "Ivy, I don't like your voice. It physically hurts me. If I hear it again, I'm picking you up, flying you back home and dropping you through the roof of that pathetic shack you call a house." My voice wavers slightly but only because I’m trying to prevent myself from screaming the threat at her.

Everyone is silent. Jem looks terrified. Oflor looks well... inanimate and Ivy looks-

"I'd like to see you try.", she says.

"What?", I reply. I feel my eyelid twitch.

"Go on... try and get close.", her hand glides down to her whip.

It's a challenge. I should have seen this coming. She's been threatened by my power since we met. She wants to prove she's better than me. She probably is. My silence is a powerful thing. I notice her throat quiver as she waits on a response or worse, a reaction.

"Ivy, I'm going to give you one chance to take that back.", I don't say any more, but I know that it's not enough, she's a child and she won't easily cave to intimidation, perhaps that's a virtue in itself.

"Ivy," the boy speaks, "just say sorry, we don't have time for this."

Ahh! Perfect! He‘s offered us both a noble way out.

"Sorry.", the insolence is only too noticeable in her voice, but I am in no mood to fight a battle I can’t win.

"Let's go." I say in as cold a voice as I can.

They obediently follow and we continue on our way. As we continue to walk, the grass begins to house some bushes, then some trees, till eventually we're walking through the beginnings of a forest. No one has spoken since the confrontation between myself and Ivy and I therefore find it difficult to suggest we should stop to rest.

I of course need no rest, but I don't know where the vampyre is and I'd prefer my weapons were well rested, just in case he decides to double back and attack us. Once again, Jem saves me from a social agony.

"Maybe we should rest... everyone looks pretty tired," he says.

I know this should be me. I know as 'the angel' I should be nice, friendly and understanding, but that's just a stereotype. I would agree that I'm more aggressive than your typical angel, but I would also say that Jem is less aggressive than your typical human. The conclusion we draw from this is that people are different and just because I'm an angel doesn't mean I have to be angelic.

I'm still angry with myself by the next morning. I know that I'm being unfriendly, but no one knows what's going on. They don't know what I know and it's driving me insane. I'm taking the anger out on everyone else, which isn't helping. I try to keep quiet, assuming that saying nothing at all is better than biting the heads off of my companions. It isn't too difficult because Ivy and Jem are lost in either conversation or an argument and Oflor seems hypnotised by their voices.

The problem is that if they know too much they won’t try. If I tell them that at this very moment, we’re being silently controlled by the faeries… that these tiny invisible beings can make us do whatever they want because they know our every thought and inner-workings… well if I tell them that they won’t see the point in trying… well apart from Ivy. But she doesn’t understand anything.

My hatred of Ivy stems, I think, from the idea that I should hate her. She's everything you should hate. The voice, the self-importance, the stupid hair, the damn whip - it all adds up into this persona that I just can't imagine could possibly exist outside the realms of nightmares. But she does... and it's… I struggle to think of the perfect phrase…Hideously maddening?

Oflor stops abruptly and looks down at the ground. It's like he can see something we can't.

"What's wrong?", I ask.

"The vampyre has done something
with which I cannot come to grips.
at the point beneath me
is where his path has...split."

"So he can cut himself in half now?", I ask infuriated at the lack of progress we’re making and slightly sceptical as to the authenticity of Oflor’s supposed tracking powers. I throw my gaze upwards, as though mocking the ineptitude of our absent creator.

"Do you know what I think?", Jem asks.

"No, Jem what the hell do you think? Let me guess? It always seems to start with ‘Oris isn’t evil.’ So what’s happened? Is this where he split from his evil twin? Is the good Oris going to join us, now? Is he going to help us bring down his evil doppelganger? Is that what’s going to happen? I’ll say it once more, Jem. He's evil. Please, please deal with it.", I say and turn away, trying to ignore the silence I’ve planted.

"That wasn't what I was gonna say." , His voice is stern and his arms are folded as though he's holding something.

"Well what was it, then? Go on enlighten us all please!", My cool has completely fallen to pieces. I think it’s his sheer arrogance that's annoying me the most. He barely knows what’s going on and he‘s trying to take control.

"First I want to talk to you.", he speaks with the clarity he used in the cabin and I feel like a disobedient child for a moment.

"What?"

"I said I want to talk to you.”, he looks at Ivy and Oflor, “…In private.", he adds.

I don't know what to say. Ivy looks stunned. Oflor looks... inanimate. I follow Jem and we walk out of earshot of the others.

"And what is the problem?", I ask through clenched teeth.

"You are.”, he replies, “Ever since we left you've been acting like either a spoiled child, a bully or both and I'm not standing for it any more."

I kind of expected this from Ivy, but not from him. "Who the hell do you think you are?", I ask him.

"No,” he interrupts. “Who do you think you are? You think being an angel makes you better than everyone else? Huh? It doesn't. Now I know you're not as strong as you make out so I think you better start treating people properly and stop taking your violent mood swings out on us."

I was waiting for him to stop and now I wish he hadn't. I don't know what to say. "Don't tempt me.", I say instinctively.

"Don't tempt you to what? Maybe you're used to being able to intimidate people with arrogance and wingspan but not me. Stop being so grumpy or I won't be there to stop Ivy next time."

I'm not the type to accept defeat. So I walk away and stand between Oflor and Ivy.

"Well.", Ivy eventually says. "What is it that you think?"

"I think he went both ways.", Jem says.

I'd normally say something sarcastic at this point but in all honesty, the boy has me scared. He’s read me perfectly and I'm not entirely sure that he's sane. His hand drifts up to his shoulder and tickles mid-air occasionally and it seems no one but myself is phased by this. "He'll have went one way then doubled back ", Jem concludes and I start to wonder why I didn't think of that myself.

"But which way?", Ivy asks.

"That's where Gabe comes in."

Everyone looks at me expectantly. "What? I don't know anything."

"Where do they lead? The paths.", Ivy asks.

"Well this one...", I point to the right, " it goes up the mountain and this one" I point left," ... it goes to a village."

"What village", Jem asks.

"Geghis." - and it dawns on me... "Dammit!" - so many horrible images are flashing through my mind.

"What's wrong with Geghis? What's there?"

“Geghis! Oh, I’m so stupid.”

Ivy snorts, but I ignore her.

Geghis is where Blaze is with that damned sword and if Oris is there, he’s either turned Blaze, stolen the sword or done both. Communicating this to everyone seems like an impossible task.

“Follow me and I’ll explain.”, I say and hurry them along the path to Geghis.

“What’s going on?”, Ivy asks in her screechy voice. A rage grips me, but I focus and it washes over me. I find myself a little calmer.

“Do any of you know of Blaze?”

“The very thing that led me here,
to Yrfeland and it’s towns
is the fact that Blaze’s strength
was so well renowned.

I was of the opinion that
he was a subtle liar;
that he’d masked himself in secrets
and he was the vampyre.

I went to him ten years ago
to test the claims I made,
but his power is imbued to him
through a legendary blade.”

It’s nearly creepy how the bear can do that, but I don’t make any mention of it. “Basically, yeah that’s it. Blaze is some guy that I led to the Vengez sword. I knew this whole thing was gonna go down here… so I kind of hid the sword with Blaze… thinking if things got hectic, I’d have an ace up my sleeve.”

“What’s so legendary about this sword?”, Jem asks.

“How about the fact that it took an entire race of angels to create it?”, I reply, “How about the fact that it makes a human as strong as a vampyre and well… if a vampyre got a hold of it… then there’s no telling how strong he’d be.”

“And Oris has the sword now?”, Jem says.

“I’m not worried about the sword… it’s Blaze. He’s the perfect guy to get turned. He’s strong and powerful. He could probably convince his village to wait patiently to be turned… they practically worship him.”

“It seems that we don’t really know much about anything, do we?”, Ivy says. I note how very helpful and constructive that statement is and I think Jem does, because he looks at me with what I can only describe as a warning.

“No we don’t really. Why are we heading to Geghis, if Oris has already left?”, Jem asks me.

“Because if he’s turned someone… anyone… we have to… we have to kill them.”, I say

Jem stops moving. “Shouldn’t we be tailing Oris then, since there’s a chance he can still turn people?”

“What?”

“If Oris has turned someone… we have a week to kill both Oris and his turnee. If not, we need to stop him before he gets someone? Am I right? I’m new to this whole vampyre thing.”

“You’re right.”

“So we should try and catch Oris first. He’s on the move. It’s not even guaranteed that he has turned someone but if he has, they won’t properly change for nearly a week. If he hasn‘t turned someone on the other hand, Oris is still a threat.”

I think about it for a while… Jem’s right, of course, and it disgusts me how much I don’t want to admit it. It’s amazing how level-headed he’s being… given what’s going to happen. Maybe that’s why I’d instinctively decided to go to Geghis, though… Blaze has grown on me after all, maybe I wanted to make sure he was okay.

“You guys follow the other path then. I’m going to Geghis, just to see what he was doing there.”

I don’t allow much time for a response. I spread my wings around myself and jump, enjoying the breeze and then focus. Jem, Oflor and Ivy look up at me, squinting in the sunlight. I give them half a wave and then push away, using my wings to push the air far below me. After five powerful strokes, I can see smoke rising from a house on a hill.

Geghis is slightly less advanced than most settlements in Yrfeland, but then the village keeps to itself. It’s like a flower in a wasteland. Everyone works in the village. They trade goods and services among one another and it seems to work. In the last eighteen years things may have slid.

The social system had been the same for years, but I’ve not seen Geghis since I first watched Blaze return to it, sword in hand. I know little bits and pieces. Blaze is somewhat revered in the village now that he has the sword, but as far as I can see the system is more or less intact. But what fate did I bring to the village… and to Blaze?

I wish I’d left him out of it, but I liked him. He was brave and strong and I wanted him to do well in the world. I needed to get a weapon hidden in Yrfeland and I thought I could kill two birds with one stone. So I lured him out of the country into the west and straight to the sword. He returned with the sword and began defending his village, which was so regularly targeted by monsters that it was on the brink of collapse.

I sweep towards Geghis with no real difficulty, and enjoy the pleasure of being able to literally spread my wings. Walking has always annoyed me greatly and I have a feeling it might have something to do with how I've been acting.

It's monotonous. Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot - I've never understood how people get used to it, but they do... they don't even realise what they're doing most of the time. For me I'm constantly aware. Compared to the sheer beauty of flight. The beat of wings, the differing breeze, the sweeping sensation as you glide on an updraft... compared to all that, walking is just dull.

That's why I enjoy this. I soar upwards still and then allow myself to dive beneath the trees; with my wings wrapped around me I can pass through most solid objects. I land as gracefully as I can manage in the rough terrain. I have two options: I can either enter the village openly, or I can enter the village covertly. I see that each home has a white circle on the door and assume the worst.

White circles mean a whole lot more to me than they would to anyone other person in Yrfeland, with the obvious exception of my people. We angels do not die... ever. We were supposed to live forever - watching over the world and making sure that, basically, things didn't get out of hand. But we're only as immortal as vampyre. We cannot be killed by time, but we can be killed. When an angel dies we wear the white circle as a mark of respect to the deceased. We of course know that there is no after, nothing beyond the beyond, but we believe that a life is important and the deaths of others remind us of our own mortality.

I'm not sure why the people of Geghis adopted our symbol as their own. Perhaps Geghis has it's own link to the angels, something I've never learned of. I've always thought their was something advanced, something special about Geghis. Either way, the people fear the symbol the way I do. For them it means a death, but to me it means more. It means that something unnatural... something sinister has occurred.

I walk slowly through the deserted community. There's no sign of life, but I manage to see a child peering from the window of a dilapidated house. I know where the people are. In the Pyrefield where the dead are cremated. I shun a cruel part of my mind when I realise that Blaze is about leave this world in an all too fitting manner.

I walk towards the Pyrefield with a awkwardness in my chest. Blaze was important to me... I'm not sure why I feel like this, I don't even know how to explain our relationship. Blaze never knew me. We've never shared a word with each other, but I had the biggest impact on his life. I gave him the glory that defined him... I suppose it was the glory that killed him.

Angels have a link to the dead. I feel the weight of Blaze's life around me, but I also feel it being lifted. He's going, the people are saying goodbye to him; their protector and their friend. I wonder how he died. I feel grief all around me, swirling like some moaning, dense fog. It all seems so distant and echoey compared to my own grief, though.

My own grief? I've never cared this much for a person, before. Is something wrong with me? From everything I know, I shouldn't be able to feel like this, but a part of me can't imagine feeling any other way. It's all too confusing. I abruptly laugh as I imagine myself crying for this fallen warrior, but it too feels strange as though I'm consoling myself with black humour.

I continue onwards, feeling unsteady. I can see the torch in it's stand, a deep black that lets no light escape it's surface. The bright orange flames seem unbearable next to the cool, unforgiving emptiness of their holder and there... is Blaze.

The deep gash in his chest has been disguised well. He looks so alive, like he's sleeping. His body is laid on stacks of broken branches and twigs. The breeze blows his hair haphazardly in the wind - no-one makes a sound. I must have intruded upon Blaze's Silence. Men hold woman close and adolescent children stare around little unsure about what is happening, but positive that they should be quiet.

A man walks forward, passing his shivering wife onto what looks like his eldest and picks up the torch. As he walks forward I feel guilt for his death. I did cause it. Although he chose the path himself, I was the one who made it available to him. If it wasn't for me, he would be alive.

There's a tense moment as the torch is dropped onto the dry branches. The fire slowly catches and creeps it's way along the dead foliage towards Blaze. As the wind picks up it howls through the distant houses and flutters the fire violently, but by now the fire is too well spread to be blown out. I gently spread my wings and glide, still out of view, a little closer to the flames.

"Goodbye.", I whisper, and firmly beat my wings, sending a gust of warm air over the body engulfing it in the now blazing flames.

The villagers are taken aback and look to the heavens for some evidence of divine intervention and I take that moment to take my leave. Flying quickly back to the others, finding my wings barely able to support my the weight in my chest.

I stop midway. I'm not sure why. It's not that I feel responsible. I know deep down that although I had a part in his demise, it was a choice he made. But I feel injustice, I guess. I hate the injustice of his death. There was no need for it. He could have lived and continued playing the hero for his village. Blaze was the one good thing I ever made. Even amongst the turbulence caused my younger mistakes. Blaze and Geghis, they were always a shining example of what I wanted to create. A glimpse of a better world... and Oris... destroyed them both.

I want to be alone. An inexplicable rage has overcome me and I want to kill Oris. Not just to stop the vampyre, but to kill him. I want him dead. I can't explain it. I never understood revenge. I thought it was petty, pointless, immature... now, to be filled with this inconsolable fury is maddening to the point of exhilaration. To know how good the release will be when I finally kill him.

And the anger flows out of me. It soars away like the wind whistling through my hair and I find that I'm not at all angry after all. I just want to kill him- it. I want to kill Oris.

I’m not angry… only focused and yet something catches my eye as I stand there; on the verge of being consumed by my grief and my steady, strong thirst for vengeance. A scrap of paper… so familiar, so bright because in the dark recesses of this forest it shines so brightly… specks of black wavering beyond it’s surface, under a thin neat scrawl: Another prophecy.

This one has bad news… bad news for everyone… bad news for me.

I fly slowly in the direction of Jem, Oflor and Ivy; three indistinct specks on a path that leads ominously close to The Mountain.

I fly slowly… with my fate - deserved and unchangeable - in my hands.