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The Black and White Angel By Lady Lilium Characters: 5352

Updated: 2018-07-14 12:06

Ena smiled. The giant statue of a robed holy man, standing on the pedestal above them moved suddenly. Freya hearing the crack of the rock as the statue moved, looked up suddenly. She had no time to escape as the giant statue plunged the spear downwards, into her shoulder, right through her body and leg and into the floor below.

Freya gasped in shock, mouth opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water, as Ena bowed her head, stepping back and whispering a short prayer under her breath as she did.

As the figures around them saw what had happened, there was an explosion of noise as the holy men began to shout.

The stone statue jerked the long spear sharply upwards and out of Freya's body. Freya fell to her knees. One of the holy men charged forwards towards them. Ena leapt back as the figure grabbed Freya before she fell. Ena felt arms wrap around her from behind, recognising Gael's touch as he flew backwards with her, back behind the wall of angels, and back to safety.

The hall erupted into chaos as holy men began to charge forwards, drawing their weapons with the intent of killing the angels, and the angels in turn, fought back as confusion was sown.

Freya was taken away, carried by the holy figure that had been the first to reach her; she disappeared from view as the fighting back. Flashes of light and bangs and screams and blood and cries. Everything moved so fast, only Gael was the one not to fight. As he held Ena in his arms, she suddenly went limp.

He called her name, kneeling as he held her and shaking her by the shoulder.

She had slipped into unconsciousness.

Gael gathered her long hair up hastily, he lifted her in his arms and stretching his wings.

He used a huge portion of his magic to blast a hole in the wall, escaping through it before anyone knew what was going on.

The archers outside tried to fire at him, but they were confused and disorganised as news of Freya's defeat spread like wildfire. With her fallen, they broke formation, and the four angels behind Gael were able to escape moments later unharmed, though some still tries to shoot them down.

The five angels soared over the landscape, led by Gael who carried the unconscious Ena in his arms; they flew away, away from the temple, away from even the people that followed Ena. They would not put them in danger, it was Ena that the enemy wanted, and so they fled to somewhere desolate, somewhere hidden, where Ena could recover. The people, the army that followed her were completely forgotten. Perhaps they would meet them again, at a later time when they were able, when it was safe. It would take the enemy a long time to find t

he angels, wherever they went. But perhaps they could hide, just long enough for Ena to become strong again.

'Please be alright' Gael whispered to Ena tenderly, holding her close to him as he beat his wings hard, struggling with the effort of carrying the extra weight. 'Please stay with me.'

But Ena was completely unresponsive. Her long pale green hair unravelled and fell free, whipping in the wind and becoming tangled around Gael's wing as he flew.

Around him, the other four angels flew in formation, all alert, keeping a look out, for they were most vulnerable now than they ever had been.

Chapter Thirty Seven

The Clouds

Freya was carried in the arms of the holy man, out of the temple and just beyond the doors.

He dropped to his knee, holding her firmly and gazing into her face.

But it was too late. She was already dead.

The holy man stared at her for ages. Around him the other holy figures began to gather, looming like ghosts over the kneeling man and the maiden.

There was a rumble in the distant land. The holy man raised his head, seeing the sky above them slowly beginning to darken, as the thick black clouds rolled in, blotting out the light from the sun.

The world began to grow dark.

Freya's body was burned shortly after. The pyre surrounded by hundreds of holy figures, all facing inwards, all utterly silent, with their black hoods raised.

They mourned for their loss, and the angels, flew further and further away.

Chapter Thirty Eight

Search for the Angels

After Freya's body was cremated, and her flesh and bones no more than ash on the smoking pyre, the holy man that had carried her from the temple before she died, left the congregation, to stand on the edge of the woodland.

Here he stood for many minutes, utterly still with head bowed and deep in thought.

He was interrupted by another sometime later, darkness had fallen, and the stars were shining in the dark cosmos above. They would have been beautiful, but the thick dark clouds that had gathered blocked out all the stars, and all the light from the moon.

It was a frightening world they were in now. If it were not for the burning torches the other holy soldiers carried behind him, they would have been in total darkness.

'Samuel' said the figure from behind him.

Samuel raised his head, then turned to face the man behind him.

'The men follow your word' Christophe said.

'My word?' Samuel replied dully.

'Yes' Christophe answered. 'You are the oldest among us, the best fighter, and her most loyal man.'

Samuel blinked slowly. His eyes were only half open; they were bored, tired, his whole body sagged.

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