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   Chapter 22 Understanding the Past

Resurrect Thy Heart By JMFelic Characters: 17897

Updated: 2018-09-06 21:49

Northeastern Region

Ancient City of Samaria

Days after the Miracle of Resurrection (A Flashback of the past)




After that faithful day, the resurrected girl and her family continued to live on with their normal lives. As requested, not one tongue spoke of the miracle. The neighbors kept silent and so did the family themselves. To ensure the girl's complete recovery and safety, her father confined her inside the house; only able to visit and see the outside sky within the house backyard.

The girl, understanding the circumstances that befell on her, obediently did as she was told. She asked no questions about what happened and gave no comment on her side of the story. It was her choice to be mute about it and so did her parents.

As was before, her daily routines inside the house consisted mainly of house chores. She would clean the plates after their meals, took buckets of water enough for her lanky arms to lift in and out of the kitchen and feed the family's livestock and poultry every morning and afternoon.

One morning when she stepped out of the kitchen door and into the backyard garden, she caught sight of a man sitting on top of one of the partition walls of her neighbor. He was wearing an odd dress not considered common in Samaria. It looked foreign as the metallic silvery cloth hugged the man like a God. One leg was stretched idly, while the other was bent with his right hand resting on top the knee. His head and back was leaning against another taller partition wall while looking at the blue sky. The man was beautiful, the girl thought, with straight golden brown hair in shoulder length, a chiseled jaw and a slender neck. What she was immediately captivated though was one striking detail about him: wings.

His white fluffy wings.

A birdman — that instantly registered in her mind, comparing it to the chickens she was supposed to feed during that time.

"Hey Mister, " she called with her soft voice, eyes twinkling in anticipation.

The stranger didn't move.

"Mister!" she called again, this time in a louder voice.

But the stranger still didn't move from his idle position. It was either he was deaf or he was just ignoring her.

Stepping more closely to the wall, she called out again, looking up, "Mister! Hey!"

And that drew the stranger's attention. He looked down and stared at the odd sight before him. Then, his brows furrowed when he noted that the girl's focus was directly on him; not the cypress tree behind him nor the clouds above his head.

How did this girl able to see him?

"You can see me?" the stranger spoke, his manly voice like a melodic tune.

The girl nodded and smiled excitedly. "Are you a birdman?" she asked.

"A birdman?" the man parroted and raised a brow in confusion. He tilted his head and thinned his eyes, examining the girl's playful aura. "Why do you say so, Little One?"

"Because you have wings, " she answered, giggling thereafter.

The winged man smiled and then jumped down the tall wall to her front effortlessly. "Don't compare me with your fat chickens, Little One. I am no birdman because I don't have a beak. I am an angel — your guardian angel."

"My guardian angel?" she asked, a bit dazed.

"Yes, your guardian angel. Isn't that great?"

"It is, but—"

Suddenly, her playfulness dulled and what replaced was sadness. The twinkle in her eyes disappeared and her smile broke down. She lowered her head to the ground and whispered, "I don't need a guardian angel."

The angel's heart twitched after hearing her words. For the record, it was the first time a human rejected her guardian angel.

"I just need a friend, " the girl added. "Father doesn't want me to play outside with my friends anymore. He says it is for my own safety, but I feel lonely here. I don't need a guardian angel. I need a friend. It would be great if I have one."

"Then, let me be your friend, " the angel suggested with a kind smile. He wasn't supposed to say that but he did anyway, at least to ease the sadness in the girl's eyes. "Little One, you are lucky because not only am I your guardian angel, I will also become your friend. Do you like that?"

He crouched low and leveled his face to meet hers. Their eyes connected: glowing amber ones to creamy hazel, and the angel saw the innocence and purity in it.

No wonder she was given a second life...

He tipped her chin up with his finger like a friendly gesture and the girl beamed a smile.

"Yes, I like that a lot, " she said with a cheerful blush on her cheeks.

"Then, tell me your name, Little One. I would want to know the name of my first human friend."

He stood up and patted the girl's head.

"Ysabelle, " she said, stretching her hands to touch the white feathers.

"Good. And I am Aestaroath, Little Ysabelle. Your protector, your guardian angel and your friend, " he said and though it wasn't his willingness to, he shifted slightly to have the girl touch his wings more leisurely.




(Five years past)

"Why are you gawking Aestaroath? Seriously, do you know you have been acting strange for an angel lately?" Ysabelle asked, eyeing the angel with arms akimbo.

Aestaroath gulped hard and diverted his eyes away from her to the scenery outside of her room window; his heartbeat making a

ot André, of course, " she shifted slightly, feeling uncomfortable with the change of the man's treatment. "You are family, you are my friend. You will always be close to my heart."

This was his usual self too. Back from the time when the brotherhood's plan was still not known, she and Andrébecame very close friends, but never was there a time that he hid his feelings for her; he was always vocal about it, and she, always turning him down. There were times when he was just fooling around, but there were also times when he was serious. Right now... most especially now... Ysabelle knew he was dead-set on expressing it.

"But I want to be the only person inside your heart Ysabelle, " was his answer. "I don't want to share it with my family or anybody else."

Or with Marcus... but good thing he doesn't know that.

Ysabelle shifted subtly to move back in her seat.

"No, André, we can't talk about that subject again. I told you already I am not open to such ideas."

He released a ragged breath and stared at her for a long minute, taking in all of her beauty under the afternoon sun. "You know, after I finally recovered from my unfortunate condition, I realized one thing, " he then continued.

"What is?" Ysabelle responded, not looking at him; her eyes resting on the beautiful rose blooms.

"That I don't want to be a pawn to the brotherhood's wishes. I don't want to be a prisoner of their pathetic rules, Ysabelle. I want to be my own master. I want to act in accordance to what I want and not what was expected or ordered of me, by my father or by Sion."

His eyes became desperate, needy... and Ysabelle began to feel an uncomfortable cold when she happened to glance on them.

"I want to express my love to you completely, " he continued, "If I wasn't able to show that in the past because I am bound by the rules, now that I am given a second chance, I will grab the opportunity to do it."

Ysabelle cleared her throat. She blinked twice and diverted her eyes away from him.

"I'm sorry André. I can't, " she said calmly.

"Tell me, why?"

He grabbed her hand and pulled her slightly, making her lean towards him.

Her brows twitched, feeling angry all of the sudden. "You know already why!" she exclaimed, flailing her free hand in the air, but then her anger suddenly dissipated and was replaced with sadness... pure, unfiltered sadness when she remembered Marcus. "I want to...die, " her voice shook, "I can't handle this loneliness anymore..."

And the loneliness that will come in the future with Marcus' death.

André, disregarding the battle of affliction she was in, remarked with ill-timed enthusiasm, "But you won't be lonely with me. I will give you everything you want Ysabelle. I will shower you with passion."

This time he pulled her closer by the waist and was about to brazenly kiss her when she pushed his chest forcefully away.

"Andréplease... let me go, " was her stern order.

Luckily, he did but only in the waist. His other hand was still holding her wrist securely.

"Accept me and you will not regret it, " was his bold promise. His eyes were dark, like a thunder storm ready to pour at any time.

Ysabelle, like those same times he confessed his feelings to her, just shrugged it off, pulling her wrist out of his hold and stood up quickly.

"I'm sorry, André. I just can't...accept your feelings, " she said and left the garden leaving him in deep contemplation.

"Ysabelle, " he whispered coldly, tightening both of his fists in anger as he watched her retreating back.

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