Daystar (13 page)

Her feet touched the ground.
 
Dual halos of bone formed around her ankles.
 
She turned and the Fallen and Archangels saw her in profile, patterns of blood rose out of her skin and sank back down.
 
She opened her eyes, crimson.
 
Dahlia took a deep breath and two halos of blood rose over her head, spinning as crowns.
 
She was four-winged.

Dahlia did not appear as she once had.
 
She was not a soft creature any longer.
 
Her skin was hard, ivory, her nails red blades.
 
She shivered; she was anger incarnate, a weapon.
 
Dahlia looked up and only one thing caught her eye, the machine.

Selaphiel guessed her intent.
 
He ran from the net and shouted to Raphael, “My brother is above!”

Raphael nodded, disoriented.
 
He stumbled over and clung to Selaphiel’s arm.
 
“We go ahead.”
 
He inclined his head to Dahlia.
 
“Give us this.”

Dahlia cocked her head.
 
“You go back to Heaven.”

“We must.”

Dahlia looked at her wings.
 
“They will know.”

Raphael shook his head.
 
“I can do naught else, but heal.”
 
He looked up at Selaphiel.
 
“Let us gather his brother; we will leave you in peace.”

“Peace?”
 
Dahlia stared at her halos.
 
She smiled without mirth and nodded.
 
“This one thing I grant you.
 
You have my thanks, healer.
 
Go.”

Selaphiel set his jaw.
 
“Thank you, Primangel.”

The pair bolted into the air.
 
Dahlia watched them go.
 
She feared nothing and waited as the pair of Archangels climbed in the sky.

Though she knew they were there, she could not address the Fallen.
 
The rage and terror in her body wanted a release and she would not run the risk of hurting them.
 
Her control over her power was slim, or so she feared.
 
Flashes above caught her eye.
 
The Archangels were gone.

Dahlia opened her wings and leapt into the air.
 
She soared through the atmosphere and left the shielding around Earth.
 
She stared at the machine that had necessitated her coming out of hiding.
 
Without this thing, she would have him still.
 
They would be happy, playing, being together.
 
Her eyes turned black.

Dahlia held her hands out palms up.
 
Her halos rotated faster, their sides grew thin becoming buzz saws.
 
She shook out her hands and the halos left her wrists.
 
They hung in the air, awaiting instruction.

Gabriel flew at her.
 
“Please do not, Primangel!”

Dahlia stared at him.
 
“You petition
me?
”

Gabriel bent his head.
 
“This is all that I have.
 
The only thing that is mine.
 
Please.”

Dahlia’s face softened.
 
“Gabriel.”

“
Please
.”

She held out one hand.
 
“Come to me.”

Gabriel shivered and drew near to her.
 
“I have nothing else.
 
Nothing
.”

Dahlia pressed her hands to the sides of his face.
 
She examined his eyes.
 
Beneath her gaze, he appeared young and troubled, but he was not afraid of her.
 
He did not feel.
 
She sighed; this one did not inspire anger.
 
He was so like his brother.
 
Dahlia kissed his forehead.
 
“This damage you have done to yourself.
 
No more.
 
You have many things, Gabriel.
 
Just remember and they will come back to you.”
 
They flashed in light.
 
She let him go.

Gabriel held his head as forgotten memories surfaced.
 
He blinked and held himself.
 
“He was telling the
truth
.”
 
He stared at the machine and the name scrawled on its surface.
 
“Paimon.”

Dahlia looked him over.
 
“You have much to muse on I think.
 
Now shoo, I do not wish you to stay in my presence.”

Gabriel stared at his hands.
 
“The others will come back to attack you.”

Dahlia nodded.
 
“And Paimon too.”

Gabriel bit his cheek and vanished.

Dahlia turned her gaze to the machine.
 
She flicked her wrists and her halos tore through the mechanism, shredding off layers like an onion.
 
As the pieces fell away, they dissolved into light.

Dahlia punched through the material.
 
She threw herself into the apparatus.
 
A red glow came from the inside, her flame.
 
Dahlia dove for the light.
 
She sawed through the contraption that held the captured essence.

Dahlia stepped into it.
 
Life surrounded her.
 
The energy throbbed, tingled; it whispered and sighed.
 
She frowned.
 
This place was not what she expected.
 
Raw force, yes, but in this something remained.
 
There were memories.
 
Voices, life still.
 
“Souls.”

Around her flowed the concentrated lives of all humans that had ever lived and died.
 
She let it wash through her; the voices were angry, confused.
 
Some despaired, having given up on an afterlife long ago.
 
Others sought revenge, gleaning that they had been used; they had felt the others disappear finally, devoured by the machine.
 

Dahlia let them feel it all and addressed them, “You were never made to have a Heaven or a Hell.
 
These are not your resting places.”

Tricked, we were used.

Pain!

“Yes, you were used.”

Wrong!

“Yes, it was wrong.”

We have nothing, no purpose, and no reason to have existed except to bring ruin.

“You were created to be a scourge.”

The humans despaired.

“But you are mine, made from me.”

The humans stilled.

“Those of you who have been gathered here recently, you still have families on the planet, those you care for.”

Yes!
 
Yes!
 
This should not be their fate!

“It will not be.”

The humans rejoiced.
 
Dahlia held up her hands.
 
“I need you to help me make that so.”

How?
 
We can do nothing.
 
We are broken, used.

“You are strong, together.
 
Your force can stand against the angels that did this to you.”

How?

“Shield the planet, your families.
 
Protect them.”

What of us?
 
Will we remain?

Dahlia shook her head.
 
“Your memories remain, your voices will sing in the breeze, feed the grass, you will give back to the planet you fought so hard to destroy.”

What of our children?
 
Is this their fate as well?

Should we protect them only so that they can disappear?

Dahlia stared at the light.
 
“I will free them from the bondage they bear.
 
I will release them.
 
If I regain my full power I will offer them a resting place, an afterlife that none yet receive.”

How?
 
Where?

“Hell is my home, it is yours also.
 
I will welcome my children home at their end.”

The humans paused, many meanings had gone with the name of Hell, but what they felt from her was honesty.
 
She offered them a purpose, a reason for existence.
 
She offered hope for their children, something they never knew that they missed.

The human consciousness decided.
 
We are yours to guide.

“Join with the shield that surrounds the planet.
 
With your influence, the angels will be unable to get through; your children will be safe.
 
Do this and I will follow through on my promises.”
 
Dahlia closed her eyes and unfurled her wings.
 
Her feathers sliced through the remainder of the machine.
 

The light exploded outwards and raced towards the shield.
 
The air around Earth took on a reddish hue as the energy flowed and encased the planet.
 
On the surface, humans and Lilliam looked to the skies.
 
Strength returned to them, long pulled away.
 
They were revitalized.

Dahlia emerged from the debris of the machine.
 
She flexed her wings and watched as the rest of the apparatus dissolved.
 
She turned her gaze to the planet and dropped towards it.

***

Berith cradled Apple to his chest as the other Fallen watched the machine explode in the sky.
 
Apple had not stirred or moved since Dahlia had fallen under the feathers.
 
He sang quietly into her hair, willing his fiancée to wake, to show signs of life.
 
She was cold and stiff beneath his hands.

Whitney could not stand.
 
Her nose bled, her body was coated in the substance of the crater.
 
She shook uncontrollably.
 
Her black eyes flickered across the ice.
 
She saw things that no one else saw.
 
The crater beside them pulsed and throbbed and her heart pounded with it.
 
She held her head and cried.
 
“They won’t stop!
 
Helion, make them stop!”

Helion wrapped his arms around her, bringing her to him.
 
None of the Lilliam had been able to restore her.
 
He did not know what he could do for her.
 
She shuddered, closed her eyes, and vomited upon the ice.
 
Her eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out.

Paimon regained consciousness.
 
He opened his eyelids, but he saw only darkness.
 
He heard the whispered conversations of the others and reality sank in.
 
His cracked lips opened and his voice came out hoarse, “Why am I still alive?”

Andy and Belial sat at his sides.
 
They each held one of his hands.
 
Belial rubbed his palm.
 
“Dahlia saved you.”

Paimon closed his blinded eyes.
 
“I did not ask to be saved.”

Andy brought Paimon’s hand to his chest.
 
“We can’t have you leaving, buddy.”

Tears seeped out of Paimon’s eyes.
 
“I want to.”
 
He turned his head towards the side, pressing his cheek into the ice.
 
“Leave me please.
 
Just leave me here.”

Andy blinked back tears.
 
Belial ran her fingers through Paimon’s silver hair.
 
She pulled him into her lap.
 
“Shhh.”

Paimon buried his head against her stomach.
 
“He’s
gone
.”

Belial rocked him.
 
“Yes.”

“Why?”
 
Paimon ground his teeth together.

Belial’s lip trembled.
 
“Shhh, Paimon.”

“Take me to him.
 
Please.”

Andy rubbed Paimon’s back.
 
“He fell into the crater.”

“Take me there.”

“There is no ‘there’ to take you to, Paimon.
 
He sank.
 
There is nothing.”

A low whine escaped his lips; it built into a cry and a wail.
 
“No!”

Belial and Andy held him between them.
 
Paimon scratched at them both.
 
“No!
 
I want to hold him!
 
I want to touch him once more!
 
Please once more!
 
Furcas
.”
 
Paimon’s blind eyes opened seeking anything.
 
“He would not want to be there!
 
He would not want to be in the dark, in the murk.
 
I have to get him.”

“You can’t.”

“He doesn’t like being dirty.”
 
Paimon remembered the bloody hair and Barachiel’s words.
 
He gagged.
 
“Barachiel killed him for spite, killed
him!
 
My
Furcas!
”

Belial spoke into his hair, “We know, Paimon, we know.”

“He
murdered
my
child!
”

Andy shuddered.
 
“And you destroyed Barachiel, Paimon.
 
There was nothing left but his dust and bones.
 
You made him pay, you made him suffer.”

Paimon’s breathing was ragged.
 
“Good.
 
Good!
”

Belial massaged his scalp.
 
“It was a painful death.”

“I want Furcas back!”
 
Paimon wailed into Belial’s chest.
 
“Make him come back!”
 
He kicked his legs out blindly.
 
“Furcas!
 
You said we wouldn’t separate!
 
You said!
 
You promised me!
 
You
promised!
 
How could you leave me alone?
 
It hurts!
 
It hurts, Furcas.
 
Furcas…”
 
His words cut off as sorrow flooded his lips with a moan.
 
Paimon clutched at Belial.

Berith broke into sobs.
 
The others looked up at him.
 
Berith rocked Apple.
 
“I do not think she lives.”

Andy left Paimon to Belial and padded over.
 
He touched Apple.
 
She was cold.
 
“You do not know for sure?”

Berith shook his head.
 
“Her pulse, I cannot feel it.
 
But it could be too weak for me, couldn’t it?”
 
He stared at Andy hopefully.
 
“My hands are calloused and bruised.
 
Maybe I cannot feel it?”

Andy nodded.
 
“Of course!
 
Of course that’s it!”
 
He put his hands to Apple’s neck and searched.
 
He felt nothing.
 
He kept the frown from his face.
 
“It is there, it is just weak, that’s all.”

Berith kissed Apple’s forehead.
 
“We will get her healed, and she will be fine.”

Dahlia hit the ice.
 
The blow knocked them off their feet.
 
She shook herself out.
 
The blood on her bare skin absorbed back into her body.
 
Soft red feathers replaced her bladed wings.
 
Her hard halos faded into red light, barely noticeable above her head.
 

Dahlia turned to them and took in their condition.
 
She dashed to Apple and tore her from Berith.
 
She shook her.
 
“Blood of my blood you wake
now
.”
 
She dropped Apple.
 
Apple hit the snow and her eyes snapped open.
 
Berith engulfed her in a hug.

Dahlia grabbed Whitney from Helion.
 
She gazed into Whitney’s black eyes, and then to Helion.
 
“She went to my realm?”

Helion nodded.

Dahlia sighed.
 
“Then I have no choice in this.
 
Whitney, forgive me for taking yours.”
 
She brought Whitney into a tight embrace.
 
Helion stepped back.

Whitney spoke in a daze, “They won’t stop talking, Dahlia.
 
I can’t listen to it all anymore.
 
Tell them to stop fucking talking!”

“Shh.”
 
Dahlia ripped off Whitney’s shirt and stabbed her fingers into Whitney’s back.
 
Whitney wailed, but her banshee cry was weak, without power.
 
Dahlia ripped and pulled.

Thick wings of obsidian, slate, and limestone erupted out of her back in two sets.
 
Halos formed over her head made from glass and coral.
 
Her corpse pale skin took on a light of its own.
 
The substance from the crater that sat on her skin sank in.
 
Whitney’s eyes snapped open, black; her hair was white as the snow, eclipsed only by her glowing body.
 
She wobbled on her feet and fell into Helion.

Helion held her, felt the power from her skin.
 
“She is
Archangel
.”

Dahlia nodded.
 
“Now, yes.
 
She would have died.
 
I am sorry, Whitney.
 
You have just been drawn into this.”

Whitney held her head.
 
“Oh, uh.”
 
She puked as the world spun around her.
 
Her brain struggled to process the dump of information, but the voices had stopped.
 
Whitney looked up at Helion and gaped.
 
He shined bright and beautiful.
 
“What am I?”

Dahlia smiled.
 
“An Archon of Hell.”

Helion hugged her.
 
“Congratulations, Whitney!”

Whitney looked up at Dahlia as she wiped her lips.
 
“I feel like I should get a cake and a party hat for my promotion.”
 
She turned and kissed Helion.
 
“Does this mean I’m not undead anymore?”

Dahlia nodded.
 
“Pretty much.”

Whitney frowned.
 
“Just when I was starting to get into a groove with it.”

Apple twisted in Berith’s grip.
 
“It itches!
 
Shit!
 
It won’t stop!”

Dahlia’s eyes flicked over.
 
“You.”
 
She hauled Apple to her feet and looked into her eyes.
 
“You have a bit more of a choice.”

Apple stretched and scratched her nails down her back.
 
“I don’t want to make a choice I want my back to stop itching.”

Dahlia turned her around.
 
“Well you need to make one soon or it is going to be made for you.”

Apple scowled, the sensation making her irritable.
 
“Well, spit it out!”

Dahlia ran her fingers down Apple’s spine.
 
“Become my Archon, an Archangel of Hell or remain Lilliam, but undead.”

Apple stared at her hands.
 
“I
died?
”

“Technically, yes.
 
We are linked and so you went through the transition with me, but not being Archangel already, your body could not handle it.”

Apple looked back at Berith.
 
He got to his feet.
 
“I will love you whatever you choose.”

Apple eyed him then looked at Dahlia.
 
“If I’m an Archon can I kick his ass, as an
equal
for once?”

“Yes.”

Apple grinned.
 
“Wing me.”

Dahlia touched Apple’s itching back.
 
Two sets of neon red wings erupted out of her dark skin.
 
Apple’s eyes shifted to match and her black hair took on a reddish sheen.
 
Twin halos of bone circled her limbs and head.

Apple smiled, reveling in her new power.
 
She punched Berith in the jaw.
 
He went flying.
 
She slapped her hand over her mouth and followed her fiancé.
 
“Whoa!
 
Sorry!”

Berith rolled to his feet and pulled her into a hug.
 
“I am not!”
 
He gave her a once over.
 
“You know I always had a fantasy about you winged, but you were always a Fury and we could never…”

Apple looked him up and down.
 
“I am Fury no longer.”

Dahlia turned from them and dropped down to Belial’s side.
 
She took Paimon from her and held him.
 
“What do you need of me?”

“
Death
.”

Dahlia’s face grew rigid.
 
“I cannot do that for you.”

Paimon touched her wings.
 
“You can, but you will not.”

“This is true.”

Paimon looked away.
 
“Then you can do nothing.”

Dahlia squeezed him.
 
“I can take you to his body in time.
 
I can promise you that.”

Paimon shuddered and nodded.
 
“That will be enough.”

Dahlia handed him to Andy.
 
“Paimon, do not try and kill yourself again.”
 
Paimon closed his eyes and turned away, unable to promise anything.

Dahlia turned to Belial.
 
“You.”

Belial looked at her nervously.
 
“You.”

Dahlia swept her into a hug.
 
“I owe you my greatest apologies.”

Belial blinked.
 
“Why?
 
You have never wronged me.”

Dahlia nodded.
 
“I did, though you may not see it that way.
 
When I switched you over to female I left you defenseless and for that I am sorry.”
 
She moved her hands to Belial’s wing scars.
 
She traced them with her fingers.
 
“I should have done this then.”

Dahlia concentrated.
 
She coaxed the parts beneath Belial’s skin, the bone and muscle that used to connect to wings.
 
Dahlia reopened the scars and stepped back.

Belial held her head and stumbled, one hand clutched at her heart.
 
Copper and steel wings grew from the place her four blue wings used to reside.
 
Zinc and gold halos adorned her like jewelry.
 
Belial took a deep breath.
 
The sensation was not foreign to her; it was home.
 
Belial spread her new wings and a smile lit up her features.
 
She exuded sweetness and innocence.
 
She launched into the air.

Apple and Whitney saw her go.
 
The pair jumped into the air to follow, using their wings for the first time.
 
Belial turned and soared back down.
 
She landed in front of Dahlia and dropped to one knee.
 
“I am without words, beyond honored.”

Dahlia helped her up.
 
“Stop that.
 
It was only cute the first time.”

Whitney and Apple did the same.
 
Dahlia glared at her Archangels.
 
“None of this nonsense.”

“You are
our
Primangel now.”

Dahlia looked at the two sets of wings on her back.
 
“Not yet.”

Andy frowned.
 
“Why were you not able to get all three?”

Dahlia touched her wings.
 
“Only God or a Primangel can restore me to that, an Archangel can only bring to their level if they have the seed feathers.
 
Fortunately, I have no need of those.
 
Speaking of which.”
 
She looked to Berith, Andy, and Paimon.
 
“Come here.”

Helion hung back.
 
Dahlia snapped for him.
 
“You too, come on, get over here.”