Chapter 20
True to his word to Leendonn, Quiet did not sleep well at all. After his friend put him back to bed, Quiet spent a good chunk of the time rolling from one side to the next, unable to stop thinking. He kept going back to the name "Inarius", and how familiar, yet unfitting it sounded to him. It was so frustrating, there were no words to express it! Quiet knew he had to move on, and focus on finding his real name then, but it was easier said than done.
He also worried about that angry bald man. Who was he? Why was he so angry? Leendonn said they would go meet another angel, one without wings. This dark skinned huuman didn't look like an angel to him. Maybe they would meet him later? Leendonn and the bald man argued a lot, mentioning a lot of unfamiliar names, and it looked like the man was angry with Quiet as well. The little angel couldn't fathom the reason behind it. He was sure he had never seen the huuman before. He thought the guy's name was Teeriel, but he couldn't be sure anymore. Among so many other names, like Zoltankooll (huumans had such ugly names, honestly), Uld—Uld—something (that one was too long to memorize) and Mefeesto (that name just sounded bad), Quiet had a hard time keeping track of who was who.
For the time being, he simply gave up. He would straighten things out later.
Once he finally fell asleep, he thankfully got a few hours of dreamless rest, before waking up to the sunlight and the rising buzzing of the city beyond the house. Quiet sat on his bed for a good while, thinking about what to do next, trying to use what Leendonn had taught him during their travels. The bald man was clearly angry and mean to them, but he didn't attack them. Soooo, it was safe to say that Quiet wasn't supposed to attack him either. The little angel thought back on what his friend told him. Besides of how to hurt people without killing them, or how to scare them away or sneak past them, Leendonn showed him a lot of things on to talk to strangers. How to greet others and introduce himself to them, how to be kind and say nice things.
Maybe, if he was nice to the bald angry man, he would be nice too?
Quiet remembered that Leendonn always ate something during the morning. All huumans did. That gave him an idea, finally prompting him to hop off from his bed and scuttle downstairs into the big room with the many books and papers. In the meantime, he conjured out a wooden tray from a cupboard he passed by, and asked fruit to grow out of its form. He also added some bread to the mix and offered it to Leendonn and the bald man. His friend happily accepted him and said "thank you", but the bald man eyed the fruit suspiciously. Did he not like fruit? Quiet thought everyone liked fruit.
Eventually, the bald man took some too and began eating as well. Quiet thought that was a good sign.
- Hello… I'm Quiet – he introduced himself, at Leendonn's nudging.
- Stop playing games. You are Inarius – the bald man retorted.
Something flashed up inside Quiet, a flash of anger.
- No. I am no—not – he grumbled back at the accusation.
He was not Inarius! Why did the bald man insist that he was?! Who was the huuman even, knowing this name? As if he knew everything better! Bah!
- This lovely gentleman here is Teeriel – Leendonn told him quickly, earning an angry growl from the bald man. – He is that angel who has no wings. You know, the one I told you about. As you can see, he is very rude and is being an ass currently. Don't try to be like him.
Oh… so this dark skinned man was the angel they were looking for. Well, damn. Quiet thought he would be nicer than this to a fellow angel.
- And he doesn't have a sense of humor, he cannot laugh. See? That is also a bad thing.
Got that right.
Quiet decided that if this Teeriel could play the mean game, then so could he!
- You are like Im—Ipe—Imperiuss. Angry all the time – he concluded, smiling at the funny face he got as a reply.
Leendonn laughed loudly at the comment, which encouraged the little angel. He happily fluttered his wings. His friend had such a nice laugh, it was a shame it was rarely heard. Maybe Quiet should do more to hear it more often…
oooOOOooo
This house was so boring.
Honestly, considering its size and all the rooms in it, that was an achievement.
After breakfast, Leendonn gently shepherded Quiet out of the big room with the lot of books and papers, and told him to find and do something fun while he and Teeriel "diskassed" some more. Quiet had no idea what that word meant, but from the context it was probably something akin to "arguing a lot".
That certainly didn't sound like fun.
At first he busied himself with discovering their new temporary home. So far they only stayed at innnnns which were overrun by strangers of all kinds. The rooms had not been all that comfortable either, although Leendonn always made sure that Quiet could sleep well. But now in this house Quiet saw no one, no matter how he looked. The rooms were well-kept, with good beds and tables and chairs and cupboards. These looked much nicer than what they were staying in before.
Still, the rooms were all empty, and as such, boring.
Quiet wandered down in the main hall and let his focus fall onto a row of tall wooden… uh, sticks? They were cylindrical, very thick and stood between the floor and the ceiling. It looked like they held something. Quiet happily bounced there, and unleashed his powers. The first, he shaped into a lovely tree with symmetrical branches that had leaves on them and they curved around in a nice pattern, almost like a large leaf and its nervation. Admittedly, the "stick" got a whole lot wider as a result, but Quiet figured there was enough room left to sidestep it with ease. The next one, he changed to metal, but kept the shape. The third, he turned into diamond and shaped it to look like a stretched out vase. He dutifully went through all the "sticks", changing them in some way, but making sure they still connected the ceiling and the floor together, and that they were made of something sturdy. Surely, they were holding the ceiling.
Quiet could feel the weight from the upper floors flowing into the sticks, and via them, into the ground eventually. Looking around, he could make out similar phenomenon on all of the thick stone walls of the house. Neat, he didn't even know he could see that! Quiet wondered if Leendonn could see it as well.
Once done with his series of masterpieces, Quiet bounced out onto the main courtyard. It was completely paved out with large flat stones, and it had a nice well in the middle of it, but other than that, it was absolutely empty.
Quiet decided to make something big this time. Something that would test his skills. So he stood there lost in thought, red eyes cast onto the pavement, one small hand supporting his chin. He fluttered his wings once… then twice… three times.
That was it!
Quiet happily chirped then crouched down, placed his palms on the ground and channeled his powers, envisioning his idea for the well.
oooOOOooo
It took Lyndon a couple of minutes to realize what this strange buzzing in his back was. Honestly, he had no idea until, somewhere from his subconscious perhaps, surfaced the memory: Quiet's powers had this effect on him. He had spent so much time around the little angel and watched over him when he was practicing during their travels, that Lyndon had developed a sense to it.
In all honesty, it had happened before. Besides Johanna, he had gotten used to pinpointing the Nephalem's aura, the foul influence of the demons that always told what Realm they belonged to. By the end of their shared adventure, Lyndon might as well closed his eyes and go after these senses alone, he wouldn't have missed a single shot. Granted, during his time avoiding Johanna's nagging, after Malthael's defeat, this sense degraded a bit, like a skill that wasn't used for long. He couldn't tell if every human would have experienced similar things, or was this yet another ability of his own (he already had a sixth sense after all). After all these weeks, he couldn't be sure about such things.
If Lyndon focused on the buzzing feeling, he could tell it was originating from somewhere outside the library, but still on the ground floor and inside the building. Whatever Quiet was doing, it was pretty big-scaled. Tyrael didn't show signs of noticing the little angel's machinations, so the scoundrel didn't rush to tell him either.
- Tyrael, seriously, I got it the first time you said it had been a bad idea to get Inarius out of his cell – Lyndon sighed exhaustedly. – Can we move on, already?!
- You do not look like you have understood the severity of the situation! I'm just trying to make you see! – Tyrael almost shrieked at him.
- Listen, Tyrael! Myriam told me to seek you out because you can help us somehow, but I don't see that now! – Lyndon retorted. – She told me to keep Quiet safe no matter what happens. That means that if you so much as think about hurting him in some way, you will have to face me first! And believe me, I put up a hell of a lot more fight than I ever did before!
Tyrael glanced at him.
- Your eyes – he mumbled, recalling the blazing green orbs. – I saw those… on Johanna, when she killed Malthael. Are you a—?
- Maybe – Lyndon quickly interrupted, uneasily fidgeting on his chair. – I'm not sure. I'm definitely not as strong as Johanna, but… it's been weird, alright?
Tyrael's stare was longer this time.
- The world is changing – he concluded finally, in a low voice. – I wonder how many others are out there like you.
- I hope as few as possible – Lyndon snorted. – It wasn't exactly a joyride up to this point.
- Yet you must learn to live with it.
- What would you know about it?!
- I'm a fallen angel, not a human, Lyndon. I know all about being different…
Awkward silence settled onto them. Lyndon actually stopped and thought about what Tyrael just said. It was true: the man no longer belonged to either side, really. He was mortal, but at the same time, he was purely angelic in origin, and as such, probably struggled with a lot of feelings and views that were normal or at least understandable to the half-blooded humans. The scoundrel slightly wanted to kick himself for that jerkish question just now.
He was about to somehow force at least half-apology out of himself when the library visibly darkened around them. Tyrael perked up and ran to the nearest window looking over the central courtyard, Lyndon close on his heels. The scoundrel realized he no longer felt Quiet's power coming from the building: it was, in fact, located in the yard now.
Looking out the window, the two men beheld a strange spectacle: the ground rose into a tall, roughly humanoid shape, barely shorter than the roof of the house, casting a large shadow straight at the library's wing. It towered over the well, leaving the crank and the attached bucket intact. Before their eyes, this mass began taking on a more defined shape: pieces of armor that slowly developed an incredible pattern of ornaments on them. Part of the ground seemingly melted, turning into something with a silky light, forming a loincloth that hung from between the plates on the hip. On the chest, two circular pieces held the multi-layered shoulder pads attached to the torso. The figure's head morphed into a hood (the stone taking up a textile-like texture there), with a bottomless darkness under it. From the back, rigid feather-like shapes emerged slowly, and from them, the ground suddenly turned to living plants of a pale color. These vines grew, twisted and turned and woven around each other, giving a majestically waving frame to the gigantic statue. Despite nearly the whole thing being made out of stone, its surface still had a strange, almost metallic shine to it, in a very muted, but still beautiful way.
Lyndon realized he was looking at an angel, clad in a divine armor typical of the High Heavens. Considering its appearance, it might have been a high-ranking one, even. At the base of the statue, Quiet sat on the ground, clearly spent but looking up at his masterpiece with great pride. Next to Lyndon, Tyrael completely froze to his spot, staring at the figure with large eyes.
- Well… I did tell Quiet to go busy himself with something – the scoundrel sighed. – The house still stands at least, so—
- That's me.
-… What?
- That statue was me – Tyrael whispered, sucking in his breath sharply. – Tyrael, Archangel of Justice… before the fall.
oooOOOooo
Quiet breathed hard but felt incredibly proud as he gazed at his work. It was that angel he often sees in his dreams, only magnified. Although this guy was mostly grumpy in his dreams for one reason or another (what was that "you shouldn't be up here" thing about?), Quiet still looked up to him with awe. His wings were beautiful, large and constantly moved around freely. The little angel truly wished he will have such wondrous wings as well when he grows up. Not only that, but also he felt a sort of kinship to the figure, no matter how grumpy he always was.
He felt like something was missing from the statue, though. It was a small, nagging feeling, but as if a key part of the being was not shown. Hm, now what could that be…
- Quiet! Quiet!
The little angel turned around at this, and smiled tiredly at Leendonn who was rushing to him across the courtyard.
- Quiet, that's—Wow – his friend scooped him up into his arms and looked at the artwork.
Quiet felt his pride swell at the huuman's reaction. He did well, then!
- I happy you like it! – he chirped, snuggling into the hug.
Teeriel also ventured outside, much slower, golden eyes kept on the statue.
- You like it? – Quiet called out, wings flapping excitedly.
Teeriel looked at him, eyes only betraying shock. Maybe even hurt. Quiet's wing drooped at the sight.
- You do no like it? – he asked again, in a much smaller voice this time.
- Quiet, how did you know how Teeriel looked like when he still had his wings? – Leendonn looked down at him.
- I did no—not know…
…
Did he?
While Quiet was pondering on this, Teeriel walked up to the statue slowly and reached out with his right hand. Among his fingers, light erupted and took up the form of a large sword with a blue source of light in the middle of its handle. Teeriel gently stood it on its pointy end and leant it against the base of the statue.
Oh of course, the sword! That was what was missing from the composition! How could Quiet forget? The grumpy angel always walked around with that in one hand.
Teeriel sighed heavily, then turned around and stormed out of the courtyard, disappearing in one of the doorways.
- I did bad – Quiet whimpered, pulling his hood onto his head in shame.
Leendonn sighed as well, and gently rocked him, walking back inside and up to their room.
- You did nothing bad, firefly. It is okay.
- Teeriel angry.
- He is not angry, he's just… – Leendonn gently said –, he is just sad.
That wasn't really a big improvement, now was it, Quiet thought bitterly. Being good was even harder than he originally thought…
D'awwwww, little baby angel is going to be an artist when he grows up! At least he understands that pillars are there to carry weight, bless his heart for not causing a cave-in. That would put Tyrael on edge, surely.
I know there hasn't been much action as of late, but bear with me! Only a little bit to go, before shit will kick up again! Not sure how fast I can write these chapters. Like I've said, there are a lot of things going on at the same time. Thank you for your patience, cupcakes! ^^
P.S.: I realized I secretly love fucking up names and writing them in dumbass ways. It is so much fun! Tremble in fear, all of Creation! Here I cooooommmeeee.
Guest Review Reply
PaulM: Darling, you are too kind! ^^ It would truly be an honor if Blizzard took notice of this little fanfic, I would probably melt on the spot. ;) Although I'm not sure about translating this to a game, since there ARE a lot of standing and talking around, with inner ANGST and shit. But knowing Blizzard, they could probably make something out of it.
