Nightingale
She leaves her wings to the most trustworthy person she knows. —Arba
.
.
.
Elder David takes her hand into his, softly and gently, like he is handling a delicate glass ornament. She can feel the cold smoothness of his palm, the ink-stained calluses on the tips of his fingers, strands of his dark hair curling over her head as he leans in.
"I have heard from God," he says to her. "As long as you are by my son's side, he will be able to fulfill the mission entrusted upon him."
An incessant chirping echoes in her ears, and her eyes widen, tears suddenly prickling at their corners.
She understands. Her lip quivers and she bites down on it, nodding her head fervently and smiling brightly.
"Become Solomon's friend, Arba," Elder David tells her. "Support him in the best way you can."
.
.
.
"Arba, what is that song?"
"Hm?" She gives a slight tilt of her head and continues running the comb through sweet, devoted little Sheba's magnificent hair.
The younger girl turns her head, sending her a curious gaze. "The one you're always humming."
"I'm curious, too!" Ugo cuts in, his eyes bright as he leans over an irate Ithnan.
"It is a beautiful melody," Setta agrees with a nod.
"It doesn't really sound all that special though?" Wahid comments, scratching the back of his head.
Falan gives a heavy sigh, raising her shoulders in a shrug. "That's because you just, like, can't appreciate the finer things in life."
Even Solomon looks up from his book. "You used to hum that to get me to fall asleep when I was younger."
"Oh!" She gives them all a bright smile, bringing her hands together over her chest in front of her—a position reminiscent of a prayer. "It's nothing, really—just a little something I've always heard."
.
.
.
The silence frightens her. When she is alone in her room at night, the emptiness surrounding her is so thick that it is suffocating. She buries her face into her hands, hot tears pooling in the cup they form. The liquid splashes against the inside of her nose and she chokes in salty air, biting her lip and staining it red as she lets out an anguished cry.
Just to fill the silence.
She cries until her throat and all her tears have dried up, and she is forced to bear with the silence again. A trail of salt runs down her cheeks, and red slips down her chin and scatters in drops over her pearls and silks. She stares at the nothingness that drowns her and quivers like a helpless child.
And then she sees it—a spot of black in this empty white canvass.
She sucks in a breath, holding out a shaking hand. The black bird lands on the tip of her finger and a rush surges through her entire being, cloaking her in a pitch black light.
Her red-stained lips break out into the widest smile they have ever formed as the sweet song of a thousand angels fills her ears. She throws back her head and joins the chorus with her laughter, feeling utter bliss. She stretches her arms up above her, reaching for the dark skies.
"Oh, Father!"
She has been saved.
.
.
.
The blinding whiteness has disappeared from her eyes and she can see the path in front of her again.
"That's enough. You cannot reach Solomon."
Falan gives her an empty stare, and Wahid inclines his head, holding on to his wife's shoulders. Ithnan's eyes snap to her with a glare, and he brandishes his staff in front of him.
"Ah, yes! That's right! Arba, you've always been his dog!" the angry boy spits out. "Have you heard what the other species are calling you now!? You, Ugo, and Sheba are the three servants who begot the coming of the great king—the magicians of creation, the 'Magi'!"
She gives a patient, pleasant smile and his anger falters almost immediately. Ithnan stumbles back a bit, his hands clenching around his staff as he holds it defensively in front of him. Wahid's grasp on Falan's shoulders tighten, and Falan herself is struck out of her reverie, leaning into her beloved with a crease between her brows.
Lifting a hand, she lays it flat across her chest, closing her eyes and dipping her chin into her throat. "That's right—I am a servant of Solomon, but I am also a servant of our Father. Right now, Solomon has become too arrogant like David, and our Father continues to suffer because of it. As their devoted retainer, I must set them straight. Ithnan, Falan, Wahid—" She opens her arms wide to invite them, "won't you lend me a hand?"
The familiar song clamors in her ears and she cannot help but widen her smile.
They stare at her with wide eyes.
.
.
.
"Arba . . . why . . . ?"
She takes in a staggered breath before taking careful steps forward.
"Why? That should be obvious."
She drops to her knees and lays down her wings onto the ground between them. Gazing down at the figure of the fallen queen, she reaches out a hand and lovingly pats her head like she always did when they were younger.
"I'm keeping my promise, just as you've kept yours."
A/N: Ehhhh, I don't really like straight-up crazy antagonists, so I'm holding on to the hope that Ohtaka still has something up those sleeves, but . . . Hm, well, like Ithnan said, utter madness makes things meaningless (paraphrased).
Also, does this count as AU? I'm not really sure if I should label this like that or not . . .
