Wild Hyacinth

Autumn fields remain restlessly for the upcoming winter in the mortal world. Far from the main roads, deep in the helms of a small cemetery lost in the humid tolls of Louisiana. A lone figure wandered through the rows, dips, and paths. Wary when a few humans were in view, little animals following nature's warnings for a low winter. Winds spiking now and then, in caution whispers that the lone figure used to map out the cemetery. Coming to a stop when the winds pushed the figure towards a faded scripted flatplate.

The figures brushed dead leaves and sticken moss to read what could be seen. Letting a sigh edge out, standing tall and fixing the hood that kept the blaring sun from sight and burns. Holding out a wire thin hand flexion in shape, letting the air twist coldly in a rhythmic hum.

"Not what I was looking for, but my thanks as it's something to work with. Let Madam Peg know I have no need for her greatful services. I await on her request."

The winds trailed heavily in a gust, unnerving many humans that rushed along. Unaware of the strange figure, barely moving when a young woman and her child walked by. The woman shuddering when she brushed shoulders with the figure. The child, a little girl dress in black, widen eyes seeing the figure. In return lifted a finger to where lips would be. Though, the child couldn't hold back wonderment.

"Mom... mom!" The girl, trying to get her mother's attention, saying in a hasty whisper. "There is a ghost here. Mom!"

"Sweetheart, hush, hurry up we have a long day ahead of us."

"B-but what if the ghost hurts daddy..."

The mother picks up the child after fixing her coat and her daughter's, holding her close as they moved along.

"No one is going to hurt daddy."

The child fidgeted in her mother's hold, urging to just to turn around look. Soon the mother gave in, turning to look where her daughter was pointing. Seeing nothing. Scowling her child gentle as they kept moving, say she saw nothing.

"M-mom..." The child whined, not liking her mother wasn't believing her.

"Remember what I said before, the angels of god won't let evil spirits by. Maybe that's what you saw."

"Mom! I don't think... or even... but mom..."

Those were the last words the figure heard, before the nature's songs being the only sounds that rustled around the being. Looking to the flatplate once more, kneeling in closer view, while running a rawboned farmhand kindly over the faded letters and numbers. Pounderment etched deeply in dark optics. Fingers curling around mist that extracted in smoke in their eyes, trailering away to the west ends beyond the cemetery. Rising up to follow, yet fell short when catching different whispers in the air. Fixing the hood that caught up in a humid gust.

"Hesediel!" A boastful voice called, tendering out when a stiff thud landed by Hesediel, when saying softer. "Finally found you."

"I had no idea I went missing..." Hesediel spoke, coming to uncertain pause when facing the other. Blunt confusion to the words. "Eremiel... what in the paradoxs are you wearing?"

The other angel, Eremiel gave only a smile when showing off his clothing of the recent decade they were in of colors, flare jeans, and embroidered leather jackets. Saying simply. "Just staying with the times, unlike some of us. Comes in handy, ya know, whenever a major bummer hits the mood to be physical, ya dig?"

"Eremiel, please, no." Hesediel answered back, rubbing where bridge point nose was, willing away a slight knot forming by his temple. Adding. "Aren't you to be with your binding souls?"

"My latest one was in Daytona Beach. I got to say, I might look into a new hobby if things work out. Little Billy is by all means, like, a cool dude."

"Please, stop talking."

"Oh, loosen up, my man. Don't be a drag."

"I'm leaving now if you're not going to state your business."

"Fine... geez. I was only stopping by because it was rare to see you not working or be in a place like this. Whose that?" Eremiel said, nodding towards to the freshly cleaned tomb.

"Touch for yourself. Careful though, the breeze has been tense since I got here."

"Right." Eremiel said, mirroring Hesediel's notion. Unlike the aloofness take of Hesediel did, Eremiel nearly flinched enough to throw his balance but was caught by the other, exhaling unnervingly. "What in the niles... that is just... I feel funky, my dude."

Hesediel helped Eremiel back to his feet, ignoring his choice of words in only saying. "I know."

"Hesediel... be honest is this related to, ah, well..."

"Yes. From what I pick from the glimpses. They were close. Family given her stance. They had it hard in short. The winds tell that in west, likely the Atchafalaya swamps, it quite a ways from the homebound. But I just want to be sure."

"Do you need any... help?"

"No. My thanks though. It would be best if I do this alone. Don't want to catch any unwanted attention than we likely already have."

"We could split up. Cover more ground and whoever finishes first meets up. It's bette, honestly."

"You're that frighten?"

"You may not be able to show you, but you are hardly made of steel, my brother. I'm going without question. Sit on it, youngblood."

"Ge blans ooanoan c ge."

Eremiel eyed around the area, picking up bends to the atmosphere that burn like frostbite. Catching the twisted shadows towards where Hesediel planned to leave. Shoulders dipping when seeing the soul, despite hackle in shape, held no glints of threat.

"Ah fafen paaox de niis g g." Eremiel whispered.

"Ol uran."

"Zacam daziz uniglag. Ol trian uran g g ah ozien capimao."

"Noan g balit."

In a gusty push, Hesediel stood alone by the tomb. Looking over his shoulder to the soul. Steady a breath and headed to where the soul was, before following through the thicken. Cold in the held that pulled Hesediel as he followed, minding to animals in the habitat, walking on top of the murky waters leaving no hint of ripples as he carried onward. Stopping when a shuddering wandered through his being, almost bending knee in ill. Leaning on a wither tree deep in the swamp. Catching his breath to sight a phantom face inches away from his own.

"There are many of you." His voice raw to crack in a wasp tone.

He stay still, bored eyes hooked to deep hollow vortexes that filled in rage and sorrow. Fingers of a spider claw rake down his gaunt face. Letting thin drips of cruor paint his face dark as the nimbus of his parent's domain. Hesediel did nothing in return or snake away. Hopeless in theory to appear in better nature.

"You fear by the smell." Hesediel said, watching as a few more appear above him, swallowing wafts of his senses by the gaping like raggy unhinged pythons. Haunting hisses, groans, and woodland rattles through the twilight lit swamp. He stayed straight face when they sheaf in one to roar at the angel, ready to lunge, but Hesediel faded in space between the souls and himself, catching the sizeable crator that sunk the tree into the waters.

"Lrasd de teloc." Hesediel whispered, when threading into the twines of one of the smaller souls. Moving in disappearing speed when the souls strike again.

"You called, Hesediel... ah, there they are." A new echoed, a wave of invert flashes scaled through the swamps. Having the distributed haunts that shrill once before went silent. A nagging tease soon was heard. "Aren't you being a time saver for me, Hesediel. You know to tender a heart here."

"Just stop, Azrael, what was that all about?" Hesediel asked, staring at the tall and dark cloak figure of bone ash white skin, riddled with splotches of disease and rot, twiddling a long rustic scythe in the air to gather more lingering lost souls like he was cleaning up spilled milk.

"Nothing. They were souls that got away. Fishing souls in places like this take time. There always something."

"So, you are saying you weren't in Greenwood."

"Is that doubt I hear?"

"Azael..."

The raggy being, flick his wrist to heal the other's wound, not even minding when the ripped angles appear on his face. Saying while the wound festered and scarred. "I was in the area. Don't think this a sign I am stalking you, again. Hesediel, you are not that fascinating."

"And I am sure the black plague was just a lovely picnic."

"Now, now, don't be callus."

"I will be sure to let Daniel knows of this. He's been waiting to talk to you, by the way."

"And that's where I take my leave."

"After." Hesediel stated, appearing in front of Azrael in a blink, stopping the reaper from getting to far.

"Oh?"

"A death here. Any chance where?"

"Got a date?"

"The opening of 1930's."

Azrael laugh with a shake of his head, saying while giving a teasing flick to one of Hesediel's pointed ears. "You are going to need to narrow it down. A lot happen in that decade. Louisiana isn't one of those peaceful dwells, Hesediel."

"I found a grave of a woman. Relations unknown, but from what I felt. I say the person she knew died at a middle age or likely just shy of that, home life was in Navarre or what was their haunts while alive. Death might have been involving dogs barking, a gun shot, and screams. Possible that the person was left in an unmark grave. Foggy, but that's what I could find."

"Now, that is more workable. A lot in the open but limits well. What kind of screams? Human or beast?"

"Beast. Given the wildlife here fits the style. Though, I wouldn't call it a normal beast."

"I see. I'll have to reach to some of my helpers. I had a few working overtime in these necks. I should have something in a few days, hopefully sooner."

"That's fine. I want to look around a while longer. Something just doesn't feel right."

"Alright. I'll leave you to that. And tell Daniel I have nothing to say. Goodbye." Azrael said and in a blink he was gone.

Leaving for Hesediel once more continuing on his search, miracling his robes clean and checking to be sure his face was healed, not even a dent. Mazing through the mosh and twitching his hand through the humid air. Hummed in thought when it was a grim silence, yet, it was telling when nearing a grove that was disbursed. Hesediel getting closer when catching something shiny. A bullet case. Old, chipped, lettering worn as a film of slick swamp, mud dripping has Hesediel shook it clean.

"What do you have to tell me?" Hesediel asked, closing his eyes and held the bullet bow face.

It was faint. Dark. Panting and fleeting steps. A chase of some kind. Echoes of dogs barking heavily in his ears, waters splashing, a course of sadness was there when a metallic thunder plowed the world to hush. More silence. A twist with relief, disappointment, and thicker as ever with sorrow. A rumble of those screams came back, though not in the mist of mortal. Crowns to that in crossing. A sinner dragged into hell by the beast that linger within. Unaware to the shooter that left their prey for the wilderness do the rest for the husk of the passing soul.

"You got what you wanted. Yet, nothing change in the end." Hesediel spoke, opening his eyes to watch the bullet case fall back into the water, letting that piece of past to rest. Boeing his shoulders in a stretch before taking to the air, weigh down by ossific withers that struggled to stay in the air, follow the tint green speckles that linger in the sky towards to the town Eremiel was. Landing on the junket lawn and heading into a rundown scorce building that was more single story shack than a house. Calling out to Eremiel when entering into the broken opening.

"I was just about to... why do you smell like death?"

"Azrael says hello." Hesediel said, rounding through the hall and found the room Eremiel was in, messy and quite unnervingly fitting close to the swamps serects.

"I doubt that. Old mother hen came to check on his chicks again?"

"Something like that. Smothered souls nearly made a meal of me and what not."

"Dude, bouge as ever your life. Like a real bummer." Eremiel said, looking through the mess. Murmuring some of the text he could read, looking over his shoulder in saying. "So..."

"Hush." Hesediel pushed, taking some of the papers that Eremiel held out. Adding. "I'm familiar with some of this. Though some of these scrawls are incorrect. Practicing summits?"

"Don't know. Not my trait."

"Zaphkiel is busy. I guess I'm on my own until then." Hesediel stated, moving to some of the tattered burn books.

"Hesediel."

"Yes." Hesediel spoke, aware of how the playfulness traded into a sense of order, in those rare warnings.

"What did you find in the swamps?"

"Death. A sinner dying at the hands of someone they had wronged through connections. How about here?"

"Nothing but failed necromancy performances. The radio lines are dripped in it as well. But those might be from something else. But..."

"I know."

"The last time a dome of power was like this was Metatron and his many, many wannabes." Eremiel said, finding a ashen picture in the mess under the desk. Handing it to Hesediel.

"One those was my brother-in-arms. Don't be cruel."

"Yet, the air around us is nothing but cruelty. It may not be him. I'll give you that but does not take away that time repeated in ways those eons ago. Mask in sleep to most, as a false being of holy."

"Benefit of the doubt that those are not true angels. I know that."

"Then know that whoever this is not what you are seeking. Souls stay the same. Memories are meant to one. All the rest is lost in a pool of forgotten. It's why we call it depression."

"You want me to let this go."

"Before things go wrong." Eremiel firmly state, tapping on the picture in adding. "It's clear as we stand that whom share eyes of a paradoxical sphere being, is a lie. For your sake, let this rest for now. Face it."

"They likely got him is what you mean?"

"Yes. And whatever he was then is not there nor in welcome."

Silence filled between them. The rustled of the winds picked up that aliven the building to creak against the sudden shifts. The papers loosen around them, as the unsettling scripts arranged by their feet.

"Eremiel..." Hesediel coughed roughly.

The other pulled the withering standing Hesediel into his arms, paying no mind of the shiver and cooling bumped flesh. Eremiel minded not when feeling the serried cruor staining his clothes.

"Hesediel, this is how you let them win. Stop. You got to stop before you drown in sorrow. If not for yourself, but at least to those in our haven. You know the language I mean by that."

"I don't think I can."

"Try. Blast that be here, just try." Eremiel held tighter as he could tend to younger being.

"I don't think I'm allowed to, Eremiel..."

Eremiel stayed silent, letting those words sink in as a gnawing sensation in his eyes. He stayed calm, adding only comfort that Hesediel could take. Catching how his once color shirt was nothing but a blank canvas of space with no natural stars that could brighten. Ignoring in how the air try to glade them from their turmoil, that Eremiel grasp in a chokehold in front of him, keeping his grip fair with the lost Hesediel.

"Ge ah sapah..." Eremiel cut short until hearing his watch ticked in a humming chime thrice.

"You have a bind to get to." Hesediel finally spoke, gurgled through the heavy molasses cruor lay on his tongue, standing straight and miracling away the bleeding sources with hands rubbing his face and carding wild long curls. Whatever disrupt that rattle was gone in a sigh and stony face.

"I do..."

"I'll be fine. Go on. I might has well check some dwellers, too."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you. But again, do try as you will." Eremiel said, fixing his clothing with his own miracle chants.

"Same in return in how you take matters as well."

"Anger is not a tone for you. Though, if you plan to bite. Work on your means to do that." Eremiel said, boredom thick in his words even it didn't reach his eyes. And soon, he left Hesediel alone in a snap.

Hesediel soon following in suit towards one of his own binds. Deep in the bustling city of Baia Mare, in the upper arch of Romania. Fixing himself as he set on the windowsill of an apartment on the fifth floor. Relaxing to the weather change that wasn't hot and sticky. Leaning by to catch a young boy running through the entrance, dropping his school bag on the couch, calling out to someone that off to room out of view. Hesediel only entering when the child sighty him with a smile and wave.

Vapor into the room as a ghost, catching the rambles of the boy chatting with his father making an early dinner. Hesediel taking a seat when the child sneak a pat in the spare stool. Eyes trained on the father, tired but whimsy in joy when talking to his son. The boy rushing off to grab his bag when the man's voice stern lightly. Hesediel catching eyes with the boy that came back with his homework, a pleading look said enough. Hesediel taking a lean stance by the boy, far from the space of the adult tasking away in the kitchen.

"Deci ce vrei pentru deșert?" The father asked, adding a few spices into the large cooking pot.

The boy looked to his father with a large after glancing at the angel next to him, saying proudly. "Paska!"

"Înghețată cu ea, de asemenea?" Said with a smirk on the father's lips, grabbing for plates and dining wares. Adding while the father set a glass of water by his son. "Deci, mâine este o zi liberă. Vrei să vii cu mine la brutărie? Ajutați-vă să gestionați contorul."

"Poate să vină și prietenul meu?"

"Sigur. Spune-i prietenului tău fantomă să nu rupă nimic." The father played along, ruffling his son's hair in fondness.

"Nu vor! Tată, asta înseamnă!" The boy answered by with a pout, eyeing Hesediel in a sign of apology, that Hesediel just brushed it off in good matter.

"Am fost doar tachinări." The father enlighten, while placing the plate down after his son set his homework aside, saying. "Aici te duci, preferata ta."

"Gulaş!" The boy echoed in glee, helping to a large spoonful in first bite.

"Da. Mâncați și veți ajuta să faceți pasca cu mine." The father said, getting his plate and was about to sit by his son, until the phone rang. The older man heaved a sigh of annoyance. Passing a few words to his son to eat, while he walked towards the narrow hallways towards the bedrooms.

The boy leaned in his seat, catching his father deep in conversation. Hopping down from his seat and gathering a spare plate left by the pot, whispering to Hesediel. "Aici, ai câteva. Trebuie să-ți fie foame, Ochi largi." Setting it down by Hesediel, whom gave sign of thanks and enjoying the food, eyeing the boy when hearing the father's voice start to rise.

"Ai lămurit că nu vrei să faci nimic cu noi. Te apropii din nou de fiul meu, te duc în instanță. Nu ... nu, încetezi să fii mama lui când ai intrat pe noi. Cand? Nu dormea cu sora mea nici aluzia, nici banii sau Mitică vânătăile. Nu scuză nimic. Nimic. Acum nu mai sună."

Hesediel placed a gentle hand on the suddenly quiet boy, sorrow etching deeply on the young face. Hesediel urged the boy to finish eating, as he long since cleaned his plate, now and then keeping the father in view, the mortal male let frustration and disappointment spill well from his mouth, lighter to not bring more discomfort to the child.

"Ochi largi există vreo modalitate de a-i face să înceteze lupta? Pot face ceva?" The boy, known as Mitică, suddenly asked, voice close to tears that subtly stiffen Hesediel's shoulders in slight pain, not as bad back in Louisiana.

Hesediel calmed enough, looking to boy with a shaken head.

"Nu? Eu..."

Mitică wasn't able to speak until the slam of the phone and a groan from his father could be heard. Quick stepping footsteps came and lighten when the father has passed his son, grabbing his coat and shoes.

"Copile, trebuie să vorbesc cu proprietarul pentru o secundă. Mâncați și terminați temele. Ne vom coace când mă voi întoarce."

"Bine..." Mitcă called out glumly, watching the door open and close, but wore a big smile when his father waved at him with equally tensed smile.

Hesediel left in wonderment on what he could do to lift the unneeded weight of reality, that was just twisting within this small family. Catching Mitică eyeing him weirdly as Hesediel used his finger to write something on the countertop, slowly, writing in the boy's native language. That before long, the tension lingering in Mitică being going away in laughs, cheerful enough to finish his plate and fetching another, with Hesediel lending help when asked. But otherwise, let the boy be.

"Ești ciudat, Ochi largi... vrei mai mult?" Mitică asked, with a somber grin.

The pair ate in quaintness, while Hesediel helped in bits in Mitică's homework. Letting the sounds of writing, clock ticking, of the low buzzing of the city life outside feeling the air from being white noise. Before long the diry dishes stack, the father's plate covered from getting cold, homework finished, and Mitică finding a small radio from his father's room to have some noise, quiet music, as he grabbed the dishes. Hesediel tubaware the remaining food and gathering the dirty cookware into the sink.

"Bine. Hei, vino să te ajute cu asta. Haide."

Hesediel did as asked, helping Mitică stand on a footstool in front of the sink. Damping the dishes and pot into hot water. Handling the much heavy stuff.

"Mulțumiri. Poți să aduci săpunul?" Mitică asked, watching Hesediel grabbing the bottle of dishsoap on a shelf too high for the child, dipping the amount needed before capping it. Getting a happy. "Mulțumesc."

Hesediel only returned a nod back.

"Am o intrebare." Mitică said, once all the dishes were done and his homework put away. Sitting at the counter, reading a book that Hesediel wanted Mitică to practice on.

Hesediel eyed the boy, awaiting to hear what the boy wanted to say.

"Este trist bine?"

Hesediel paused in thought before using the boy's palm to write his answer. It went on between them, in a sense of calming in the twins of the romania ballets in the background. At some point, the subject matter change a bit.

"Și tu ești trist?" Mitică asked, when some of the connections were met, Hesediel answered in gave the boy rushed in making things as awkward. "Imi pare rau."

Mitică kept eyes on what Hesediel spelled, that in a way relaxed himself. Looking to the angel when about to speak again, just a loose questioned. "Există un motiv pentru care doare?"

To Hesediel answered made the boy pout.

"De ce ne-a părăsit mama? A fost pentru că era și ea tristă?"

Hesediel shook his head, adding in bits that had Mitică's brows arch in confusion.

"Nu inteleg."

Hesediel followed words made the child calmed, loosen with laughter.

"Ești haios."

Hesediel only gave a shrug to the snark by the other.

Mitică was about to say something next, but paused when hearing the front door open. The father coming in with a pant, tossing his coat and kicking his shoes in a haste, while voice pitched that was signs of regret when the father saw the time.

"M-am intors!" The father said with a smile, placing a kiss on his son's forehead. Stinking from his child's whines of being babied. Heading into the kitchen, but stopped short in the sight before him, asking. "Stai ... ai făcut vasele?"

"Ajutor Ochi largi. El chiar vrea să coacă Paska."

"Într-adevăr?" The father said, a proud look on his son's attitude. Playful and unaware to the passing figure that join them both in the kitchen.

"Da."

The father gave a nod, adding "Bine, cui să începi să coace?"

"Noi suntem!" Mitică yelped, already heading to gather what his father listed, while he got the pans and sharper stuff.

The father asking when catching his son use the footstool. "Ai nevoie de ajutor pentru a obține făina sau ceva?"

"Ne descurcam. Hai, Ochi largi, va fi distractiv!" Mitică said, pointing to certain ingredients needed.

Hesediel careful, though knowing Mitică's father still unaware of the bag of flour floating down to his son's hand, among other things, as if nothing was a midst in a small family getting by in life. Much to how Hesediel kept to it, for everyone in sake in the few now. Sorrow still lingering in the air, but in the ways through the chatter, the music, and bustling of the kitchen. The pain wasn't as thick, and that could be honestly what some just need. Tomorrow was only to be another day. Good or not, that's just how life is now.

Hesediel keeping in mind, as he headed off later into the night to check on other binds. Recalling back to Eremiel's words, but still, in a heavy heart. Those ills before were not over. At least, not as quickly that were planned. But once more, the future could have anything planned in the fortwo paradoxes paradises.