And it's here! :D I never thought I'd be presenting chapter seventeen so soon. XD *jumps up and down* Writing this took a lot of hard work, self-motivation and courage. The reason I was dreading writing this chapter is because we're getting closer to the end. And that just scares me more.
Chapter seventeen is here and that's all you need to focus on. Doing this chapter left me with my head spinning.
As always, read and review. ^_^
The angels were as Ereyon described them. Their perfection oozed from every part of them. Their faces, inhumanly beautiful, like sculpted statues; devoid of any emotion whatsoever. But there was a hardness in those angels that spoke of another angel's influence. Their presence gave off a sense of elegance and grace, making anyone who saw them want to be with them more. And that's what Wirt couldn't hold down.
He counted them. There were indeed five angels. And he recognized them from what Ereyon described.
"That's Iophiel," whispered Wirt, pointing the the chestnut-haired angel with the matching wings.
"I remember him," replied Sara just as quietly.
"Who are the others?," asked Jason.
Wirt searched through the crowd. He spotted an angel with blond hair and blue eyes.
"That's Merlac," he rasped, pointing at said angel. "The one with blond hair and blue eyes."
"Even his wings are blond." Sara noted, brow arched.
"There's Veriel." Wirt pointed to the angel with white hair and grey eyes. "That one with white hair and wings."
"Are they made of snow?," peeped Greg, craning his neck.
"That's Irithiel," said Wirt, eyes locked on the brown-haired angel. His friends followed his direction and took note of the cold, flawless angel. "And that one's got to be Eyreequel." He squinted. "I can tell by the 'striking violet eyes.'"
"Ereyon must've been very detailed," commented Sara.
"He was but not too longwinded," retorted Wirt.
"What are they doing?" Jason inquired. "Are they talking?"
"I wish I could hear what they were saying," said Sara.
The angels looked at Ereyon with cold disdain, their fury like a frozen sun. The redheaded angel stood, stoic, unfeeling. His bravery was forced than willed. Ereyon appeared as though he was ready to fly away, but from what Wirt and his friends were seeing, he was not fleeing. Not this time.
"Ereyon," spoke Iophiel. His voice deep and commanding. The red-haired angel stood, unflinching.
"Iophiel," uttered Ereyon. His red wings were folded against his back, his feathers giving off a metallic shimmer in the moonlight.
"It's been a long time, Ereyon," said Iophiel. The redheaded didn't even bother answering. "It's time." The words escaped Iophiel's lips with a hardness that would make even Rasputin shiver.
"I seen no means of getting out of this," response Ereyon gravelly. He stole a quick glance at the treeline, towards his friends who were hiding...and observing.
"Enough time has been wasted," rasped Iophiel, "we will continue with your punishment as planned." He looked peered his shoulder. "Irithiel," he said to the brown-haired angel.
Irithiel stepped forward. He snapped his fingers, a pair of silver cuffs materialized.
Over in this treeline, Wirt watched with burning interest, desperate to go out there and stop them. He took his backpack off and unzipped it. He rummaged through it and pulled out his slingshot.
"Find me something to throw at," he said to anyone who would answer.
Jason searched the ground for something to throw. He felt the smooth surface of a stone. Picking it up, he handed it to Wirt.
"Will this work?"
Wirt looked over at Jason, glancing at the stone.
"Yeah, that'll work." He plucked the stone from his hand and put it into his slingshot.
"Aim high, aim high," whispered Greg, nails digging into his brother's side.
Wirt straightened and raised the slingshot. Closing one eye, he pulled back the pocket, calculated the angle and released. The stone went flying for the crowd. It hit the angel with blond hair. The angel flinched, wings flapping.
"Merlac?," spoke the violet-eyed angel.
"Something hit me," replied Merlac, swiveling around, wings unfurled. "I believe it came from over there." He turned to the treeline on his left, pointing a pale finger.
"Get down!," whispered Wirt, ducking his head.
"Do you think they saw us?" Greg quoth, opening one eye.
"I hope not," croaked Jason.
"Sshh, listen!," hissed Sara.
The four listened with rapt attention.
"This better not to be another one of your tricks, Ereyon," rasped Iophiel. Ereyon did not answer, for they would know about his friends hiding behind the abundance of trees.
"Enough, we are wasting time," barked Veriel. He turned to Irithiel and told him, "Cuff him."
Irithiel stepped forward with the cuffs ready, when another interruption broke through the tension.
A pebble bounced off Iophiel's head. The chestnut-haired angel snapped his head to the left, amber eyes boring into the trees.
"Something's out there," he said. His voice held an ire calm. He strolled towards the trees.
"He's coming!," squealed Jason, hands over his head.
"Don't worry," reassured Wirt, digging through his backpack.
"What are you doing?" Sara inquired.
Wirt took out his pocketknife. Pulling out the blade, the light glinted off the knife, like a reflection.
"I think he's getting closer," whispered Greg. Wirt waited, hand gripping the knife.
Sara craned her neck. Iophiel was now close enough. She hoped he hadn't spotted her.
Wirt counted the seconds. Relished every breath. And he sprung up. Wirt was even more surprised than the angel.
"Human!," hooted Iophiel. Behind him, his soldiers turned around, wings unfolded, alert.
"Wirt!," muttered Sara, grabbing at her hand.
Wirt grabbed his backpack and hit Iophiel in the face with it. He stumbled and lost his balance. Wirt dashed past him.
"Wirt!," shouted Greg. He picked up his backpack and followed him.
"Greg, don't!," hollered Sara, standing up.
Iophiel regained his senses, glaring at Sara, but turned his attention to Wirt and Greg. He flapped his wings, not to fly, but as a reflex, and ran after the brothers.
"Capture the remaining humans!," ordered Iophiel, pointing at the treeline. And the angels obeyed.
"Come on, Jason," said Sara. Grabbing her bag, she took off running into the forest.
"Why do these things always happen to me?," he uttered. He followed Sara.
Ereyon, who had stayed put, decided to intervene. He hovered above the clearing, watching Iophiel's followers chase Sara and Jason into the forest. He turned over to Wirt and his brother. He glided towards them, focused on Iohpiel.
When he was close, Ereyon tackled the chestnut-haired angel. Wirt and Greg stopped running, turning around to watch.
"I'll hold him off!," shouted Ereyon. "You go help your friends!"
Wirt wanted to help but wisely obeyed. He and Greg ran to the treeline, hoping for the best.
Iophiel felt around the ground, and wrapped his hand around a branch. He hit Ereyon square in the face, knocking the red-winged angel back. Iophiel used the opportunity to cock back and scramble out of his hold. He swung the branch again, striking Ereyon in the head.
"Mucking in the ground with humans," hissed Iophiel disdainfully. "How typical of a rebel like you."
"Let me show you that the world needs them," pleaded Ereyon, "killing them won't solve anything, Iophiel!"
"Wrong." Iophiel's expression hardened. "Because they're alive, everything's been shifted. The river of time has been set down another course." From the palm of his hand, something poked out. It was a blade, which was half an inch at first, but then grew another five inches. It eventually grew to reach twenty inches. A silver polearm with a sharp tip gripped in Iophiel's hand. Ereyon's eyes widened.
"And you will not stop me," rasped Iophiel. And Ereyon believed him.
Iophiel took off into the sky. Ereyon grabbed his foot in one motion, throwing him across the field with intense force. In a split second, Iophiel turned over and lunged back, polearm pointed towards Ereyon. The redheaded angel summoned a blue shield to counter Iophiel's blow. Iohpiel hoisted his polearm and dove, only to have it kicked out of his hands by the red-winged angel.
Wirt stopped at the edge of the treeline, chest heaving up and down with every breath. He listened for his friends' voice, hoping they would outrun the angels.
"Jason!," went Sara.
"I'm right behind you!," called Jason.
Wirt and Greg waited for them. In a few seconds he saw them running towards them with the angels flying behind them.
"They're right behind us," panted Jason, jerking his thumb to the rogue angels.
Once he and Sara were out of harm's way, Wirt calculate the angle, and when they were close enough, he stabbed one of the angels—the one with the violet eyes— near his clavicle. He pulled the knife out, silver blood pouring out like a sprinkler.
Silver blood? Wirt looked at the blade. Of course, they're angels.
"Wirt!," hooted Sara, eyes as wide as the moon. Jason bit his lip.
Wirt didn't have time to process the situation, for the blond angel knocked him off his feet. The boy shielded his face, the knife pointed at the angel.
"Get off my brother!," shouted Greg.
"Greg, no!," screeched Sara.
Wirt peeked over his chest and managed to see a glance of his brother wielding a heavy-looking branch and struck the angel with it. The angel didn't react aside from the usual flinch and turned around. He raised his hand, and with an invisible blow he sent Greg streaking through the field like an arrow.
"Greg!," shouted Wirt, holding out an arm.
Merlac punched Wirt in the face. Pain shot through him, like needles cutting away at his cheek. Once the first second passed, Wirt swished the knife, slicing across the neck. A rivulet of silver blood streamed in a thin line. Wirt pushed him off, sweat dampening his chest, forehead and neck. Merlac stumbled back, losing his balance. Without the time to consider it, Wirt ignored him and went to aid his brother.
"Greg, Greg!," he called.
He heard a groan. Wirt saw Greg laying face down on the grass. He stooped down and shook him gently.
"Greg?," he said. "Are you okay?" He heard a moan from him, then the boy got on his knees.
"Yeah," replied Greg, hand massaging the back of his head.
"Wirt, look out!," hollered Sara.
Wirt spun around, mouth dropped at the sight of Eryeequel about to grab him when Sara came and knocked him off. The brothers watched Sara struggle with the angel who in turned tried to throw her off. But Sara was much faster and she punched him in mouth. Silver blood spilled out. Wirt even swore he saw a white tooth fly off.
"Whoa." Wirt felt his heart sink low to his stomach. "Those wrestling classes paid off."
"I wish I brought my bat," bemoaned Greg.
"I brought my compass," uttered Jason. In his hand was his compass, the same one Wirt used in math.
"Jason, behind you!," shouted Greg, pointing.
Jason turned around, striking Irithriel in the chest. Though he only ripped his top, Jason was high on adrenaline, sweat dampening his whole body. And for that second, he didn't feel scared.
"We're not out of the woods yet." Wirt stood up and dove, knife hoisted over his head. The knife went through Irithiel's arm, silver blood dripping.
"Jason, on your left!," chirped Greg.
"Yikes!" Jason dodged Veriel's kick and stabbed his leg with the compass. Veriel shouted in pain, falling back in the process.
Sara let out a groan. "This one's out cold," she grunted. "Let's drag him to the circle."
Jason grabbed Eryeequel's left leg, and together, he and Sara made their way to the spot Ereyon drew the symbol. The angel's wings left behind a small trail of blush-colored feathers. Greg knelt down and picked one up, running his finger through the barbs.
"Come on," said Wirt as he ran past him. Greg shoved the feather in his pocket and followed his older brother.
"Ugh, what does he eat?," groused Sara.
"We're almost there," remarked Jason, panting.
The two stopped. Jason dropped the angel's leg and went over to his head. He grabbed his arms, and with Sara's help, they lifted him off the ground and dropped him into the etched circle. The moment the angel was dropped the moment a green light emanated.
"Whoa, what's that?," asked Wirt.
The green light only filled half of the circle. Is this how it worked? Lights appeared and they sealed the angel? But did the rest of the circle light up if all the angels were trapped in it? They could only find out.
A cry from behind startled them. Turning around, the group saw it was Veriel, his wounds all healed. Of course, he was an angel, they healed their wounds quickly. Sara kicked him in the stomach; Veriel fell to his knees. Wirt hit him in the head with his backpack, wishing with all his damnedest that he knocked him out. Veriel flapped his wings and lunged at Wirt, both falling to the ground.
"Ack!," yelped Jason, diving away from Merlac's kick. He used his compass and stuck it in the angel's shoulder.
Wirt manage to shove Veriel off of him and stabbed him in the stomach.
"Quick, push him into the circle!," barked Sara.
Jason did the honors and kicked him, the angel fell into the circle along with Eryeequel. When Veriel fell in another light shone. This one was an orange color. This arc of light was only halfway complete. They just needed the rest of the angels incarcerated.
"Wirt," said Greg, holding out a rock for him. Wirt took the rock and put it in the slot. Pulling it back, he scanned the area for an angel to pummel. Irithiel suddenly appeared, his hands emanated silver light. Racing with adrenaline, Wirt sent the rock flying for him. It ricocheted off his face, taking him off guard, falling to the ground. He grabbed at his face, at the spot where Wirt struck him.
"I'll distract that one!," hooted Sara, her eyes focused on Merlac. "Hey, over here!" She turned heel and ran to the right. Merlac flew after her.
Jason sprinted over to Irithiel and stabbed him in the shoulder with his compass. Irithiel grabbed his leg and tripped him. Shaking back the pain, the angel punched him with his left hand. Jason was about to stab him again when Irithiel grabbed his wrist. It was a tug-o-war between the two, on who would be stabbing who. The angel twisted Jason's wrist, intent on stabbing the boy. A knife went through Irithiel's back. The angel grunted, glancing over his shoulder, glaring daggers at Wirt.
"Get off my friend!," he rasped. Pulling out the knife, he kicked Irithiel, earning another groan from him. Jason took the opportunity to stab his cheek.
"Bad angel!," yelled Greg, hoisting a rock. He bashed Irithiel in the head with it.
"C'mon, let's get him in the circle before he comes to," instructed Wirt.
He and Jason—Wirt grabbed the ankles, and Jason held the wrists—dragged him to the circle to join his brethren. Once he was in the circle, a white light ignited. It was almost complete.
"What now?," queried Jason.
Wirt looked to the brawling angels. Apparently, Iophiel ignored his fight with Ereyon and went to assist Merlac in capturing Sara.
"Should we help?," suggested Jason.
"I," began Wirt, "she looks she's got it under control, but I think I should go." He looked over at Jason. "You make sure they don't get away."
"Right."
"We'll watch them like hawks, sir!," cheeped Greg, giving a salute.
With his slingshot and his knife, Wirt dashed off to help Sara. Iophiel caught sight of him, and went flying for him like an eagle. Wirt ducked, turned over and stabbed the angel's leg.
"Agh!" Iohphiel's wings fluttered like a butterfly's as he dropped to the ground. The knife being pulled just sent more pain shooting up to him. Iophiel grabbed at his leg.
"Wirt," huffed Sara. She had a hand to her chest as she breathed in and out.
A scream behind her alerted him of Merlac's presence. Sara was about to strike a blow when Ereyon tackled him. The girl watched as the two angels struggled with one another. Merlac managed to punch Ereyon's face before the other levitated Iophiel's polearm into his hand. The redheaded angel thrusted the polearm into the blond angel's stomach. Silver blood poured out in a stream. It would take seconds before Merlac healed himself. To save him the trouble, Ereyon levitated him out of the ground and sent hi toward the circle where he landed with the other angels. A purplish light glowed seconds later.
"It's just you and me now," said Iophiel with a grunt.
"Looks like it is," uttered Ereyon, wings opened.
Wirt ran towards Iophiel, his pocketknife ready, when the angel raised a hand and an invisible blow sent the boy off his feet and pushed him into the dark. Ereyon offered his friend a worried look.
"Enough of this foolishness," rasped Iophiel. "It's time to do what I came here for."
"Please, don't do this," begged Ereyon. "You don't know what this might do to the natural order."
"The natural order was disrupted the moment you refused to take them," reiterated Iophiel. "I'm only finishing what was started."
In the distance, Wirt sat up, head spinning. He grabbed at his head. He felt at the ground with his other hand. His hand wrapped around his slingshot. Now all he needed was to find his pocketknife. Just then, footfalls approached. He knew they were his friends.
"Wirt," spoke Sara.
"You all right?," asked Jason.
Wirt turned around, not caring or wondering why Jason left his post at the circle. He looked past them. Greg was still keeping watch of the unconscious angels. He wondered if they were really unconscious or if the circle was draining them of their powers. He would have time to think about it, as they had one more angel to throw in. Wirt stood up.
The three turned to the conversing angels. Neither of them knew what the were taking about. Catching Iophiel off guard was likely to work, as he, and the others, would've thrown them off. Tired and with no other thread to hold on to, the trio resorted to listening.
"You're wrong," said Ereyon. "You don't know what change they'll bring to the world."
"I know that humans are destructive, murderous and merciless," spat Iophiel. "And you, consorting with them."
"I have lived among them long enough to know that they're not as bad as you think." Ereyon's wings drooped. He grasped at any shred of dignity he had left. "They're not how you view them! They love one another. They care for each other. Even when there is darkness in the world, humans still fight to find the light. Something that we can never strive for."
Iophiel glared at the red-haired angel, lips unsmiling. A few yards off, Wirt and his friends stood, listening. Wirt, with his slingshot in hand, he looked down at it and at the angels before coming to the conclusion that he was unfocused to even make the shot. Jason gazed at the slingshot and had an idea.
"Let me take a shot at em," he said. Wirt handed him the slingshot and Jason crouched down, feeling at the grass for a big-enough rock. When he found one, he stood up straight, pulled back the slot and fired. The rock hit Iophiel's face.
The angel turned to them.
"Wirt!," called Ereyon, wings flared.
The boy didn't have the time to think it over when Iophiel took to the sky. The angel dove and swooped down. The three ducked, and although he was crouched real low, Wirt swore he felt his wingtips brush against him.
"Hey!," yelled Sara, rising to her feet. She was holding the same polearm Iophiel summoned. Sara held the polearm to her shoulder, calculated the angle and threw it. It landed in the angel's shoulder. It was a surprise that Sara had never tried javelin throwing before, but with the adrenaline and fear pumping in her, she had beginner's luck.
Iophiel pulled out the polearm, silver blood streaming from the wound. He didn't have time to grab his bearings because Wirt pounced on him.
"Leave us alone!," he barked at him. He thrusted the knife into his clavicle. The angel didn't even do so much as flinch.
Iophiel shove him off and sent gold sparks flying at him. The sparks only stung when they came in contact with his skin. Wirt hissed back pain, grabbing at his arm. He splayed his fingers, seeing what looked like a cut made from needles.
"You okay?," asked Sara, sliding on the ground. She looked at his cut, biting her lip. Wirt's arm pulsed, the right side of his body from the neck up pulsing.
Iophiel, who had pulled the knife out, got on his feet. His chestnut wings gave a single flap, creating a strong wind.
"Don't you see how they are?!," spat Iophiel. He pointed at Wirt. "He is no better than the rest of humanity."
"But I've told you that the world needs him and his brother alive," reiterated Ereyon.
"You're not going to stop me, Ereyon. With or without your involvement a new age has to be ushered. Your brother's were more competent than you. You were alway feeble-minded. Which is why you must be destroy along with them."
Ereyon's patience had been worn thin, but he was quick to get it under control.
"I will not stop fighting," he said. He glanced over at the circle. "And we will have all the time to think about it..."
Iophiel lunged at him, but a red sphere appeared around Ereyon, shielding him from his opponent's blow. The sphere grew and exploded, filling the field with a redness brighter than a million suns.
Wirt and his friend's shielded themselves from the explosion. When the light dimmed, Wirt scanned the clearing. He spotted his brother crouched down, arms shielded over his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Iophiel on the ground. Whatever it was, it brought Iophiel down to his weakest. Perhaps this was the end of it.
Greg sprinted towards them. "Is he dead?," he asked.
"No," answered Ereyon. Timed to his words, Iophiel sat up, wings opening, but not quite ready to fly.
Jason got another rock ready for when Iophiel attacked, but Ereyon held a hand in peace.
"He won't be putting up a fight."
The four watched him approach Iophiel. Though neither could help but feel like he was revved up for another trick.
Ereyon grabbed Iophiel's arm, forcing him to stand up. Ereyon's hold was strong on the chestnut-haired angel. Iophiel walked reluctantly, his destination: the circle. There was no way out of this. He was going to join his soldiers and they would be trapped for who knows how long. Iophiel could feel his end creeping closer.
"Ereyon," spoke Sara, following him. Behind her, Jason, Wirt and Greg trailed along.
The red-winged angel dumped Iophiel onto the ground along with his soldiers. A silver light emanated, completing the circle. The artifacts; the diamond, the gold nugget, the amulet, and the sphere began glowing themselves. Wirt didn't know what it meant, but he had a hunch it was part of the sealing of the spell. Iophiel, seeing what was about transpire, grabbed at any last shred of leverage he had left.
"You know what'll happen once this circle is sealed," he rasped, his throat scratched at the last sentence.
Ereyon dug into his pocket and pulled out the phial. Iophiel's eyes widened at the sight of it. He was trapped and he was going nowhere. There was no way to get out.
"I know," said Ereyon. "That is why I must do this." His voice held a bit of grievance. "I have made mistakes beyond mistakes. Mistakes beyond repair." He paused to regain his composure. "Which is why I must disappear from this world."
Wirt's heart skipped a beat. His fear was stretched asunder and colored the world. He couldn't be hearing this right. He just couldn't! His heart beat so fast he was sure it was going to explode.
"What is so great about being human that you would abandon everything?," demanded Iophiel as a last resort.
"Because..." Ereyon trailed off. He closed his eyes, a whirlwind of emotions swamping him. He had no other lead to hold on to.
"Because...why?," squeaked a voice.
Ereyon's eyes snapped opened, searching for the the source the voice came from. He turned around, and to his surprised, all eyes were locked on Wirt.
Man was that fight just a heart-pumper? I almost lost it myself. Don't go anywhere, chapter eighteen will be on its way soon. Sooner than you might actually think. ;)
I hope you guys are ready because I can't take the suspense! *does a tap dance*
Chapter eighteen will pick up where this chapter left off.