NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter 31: Your Angel? No. My Angel.
Soril POV
When he exits the city. He stumbles upon Lumeria healing the wounds of the soldiers from the last battle. Her complexion looks pale, her hair is a bird’s nest, she flounders around like a newborn doe without a slick of grace. Unable to keep her balance from the lightheadedness. She reminds him of his little sister sometimes. Or maybe that comparison would be rather weird. The starry naivete at least. And without him even realizing it, it brings a smile to his face. It’s a refreshing sight away from all the dolled-up court ladies hiding behind ten layers of plastered twinkles. He can stall on the proposal for a bit more and wait for Godor’s reply.
Three more days pass in uneasy silence without a single word from Godor. The food in the camp is gradually running low even with the miserly rationing and they can’t afford to simply wait like this for much longer. The troops will just get increasingly weakened as time goes by.
On the fourth day, an arrow is shot into their camp from the cliff tops. Pinning a grisly severed head to a tree. It’s their envoy that they previously sent in attempts to negotiate. There’s a bloodied note shoved into his mouth, and it reads,
We came to understand you’re facing a bit of a predicament yourselves to be making demands from us. Return my brother by the weekend otherwise we attack.
That night, he lays in bed, tilting the glass bottle in his hand. It’s an ominous looking thing. The liquid glows black and thick. Godor has no intention of bargaining. Their involvement is getting frustrating. The danger is weighing like shackles upon his ankles, getting increasingly heavier. It’s urging him to the solution Lumeria won’t like but he can’t idle by much longer. He must decide and be quick.
By the fifth day, he takes Lumeria with him into the forest. She’s been prying about his meeting with Wascald the entire time enroute and he dodges her.
On the sixth evening, they reach the cliff overlooking Feror. No more than a speck in the far distance. They can’t go further than this, there will be sentries of the enemies situated in the forests. He passes Lumeria a bow and arrow with the glass bottle attached onto it,
“Shoot it dead center.”
She examines it for a while. He made sure to peel the label off, just in case she identifies it. She asks,
“What does this do?”
“It may do absolutely nothing. Or it may turn the tide for us. We must try.”
“You won’t tell me?”
“Just trust me on this.” she doesn’t question further. He watches her draw her aim, there’s a keen focus in her eyes when she does this. Her golden pupils pinpoint with the curt gaze of a vicious killer. It shudders down his spine. She likes to pretend otherwise so he won’t point it out.
Licking her lips, she releases. and as if it’s reeled in by some invisible force, the arrow flies directly where she’d wanted it to go. He loses sight of it midpoint. But a black miasma furls out the moment it lands, surrounding the entire town. Shrouding it completely like an out of place storm cloud. They’re too far to hear the screams. He presses her head down into the bushes. Shushing her when she skeptically pries,
“What is that?” The outposts are sensing something’s wrong. Little dots rushing in, none are coming out.
They hide an hour more for the black cloud to clear and head down to examine the carnage. All the sentries have been abandoned at this point. Lumeria sprints forward the moment they’re at Feror’s gates when the moon is up. A low scratchy growl rattling to the night sky. A squeaking noise escapes her. She clasps her lips in a gasp as she takes in the scene.
The Godorian soldiers and horses, half dead, half alive, flesh flaking off their blackened bones, slowly dusting away in the wind. Leaving behind piles of black soot smudging on every surface. Unable to even struggle. They just stare with hopeless eyes. Looking like the aftermath of forest fire yet everything nonliving remains untouched. So, it does still work and it’s exactly as he’s read about.
Elixer of the Crying Nightshade, the deadliest poison ever recorded in history. The gas turns flesh brittle as powder in an instance. The effect area is unbelievably huge with how little it takes to demolish entire armies. And it’s unfathomably cruel, because it kills slowly. Reminding anyone who’s unfortunate enough to witness the horrors it’s capable of.
He’s closely examining Lumeria as she runs down the desolate streets. She approaches a captive Feror villager, attempting to heal her wounds, but even the force of her blood droplets, withers her away. Her tongue collapses like ash in her mouth as she attempts to speak. But he can guess the words, probably something along the lines of, Kill me.
“Give up.” he says,
“They’re beyond saving now.” He knows she won’t be happy to see this. There’s a stuttered look on her face as she stands up. Guilt, then accusation, she wears her heart on her sleeves. Spinning around, her voice trembles,
“What did you make me do?”
“We can’t just sit and wait. Either we strike first or let them to strike and it’ll be too late to rectify.”
“Was this what Wascald gave you? Did you know this was going to happen if it worked?”
“I wasn’t certain if it’ll work.”
“And I was your lab rat to test it out?”
“What did you think was going to happen? Another smoke bomb? Happy little fireworks?” she’s getting agitated,
“I don’t know, something to keep them placated? Anything but this! This is malicious! There were your people in here! Innocent people!”
“There were more of our enemies. Can you only accept a victory if it’s closely tied? We don’t win a war by scraping the skin of our teeth.” He kicks a corpse beneath his feet like a leaf pile. There’s a giant golden axe next to it.
“My mission isn’t to win this war; it is to stop it! Your Kingdom holds no grudge against Godor, why would you do this? You have just waged war with the Sansara by murdering their Princess! You could’ve let me try talking to them!”
“They waged war on us first by beheading our envoy. Do you really think I’m willing to let you walk into their camp alone and risk losing you again? We still have Rakgar, we’ll be fine. I’m going to bring him to the Crown.” she draws back,
“But what about my feelings? I am not a tool you can manipulate at your disposal.”
“I have never seen you as a tool.”
“You just used me like one! I trusted you!”
He closes their gaps; he knows how to calm her down. He just needs to bear her sins, give her purpose. Convince her that she has done nothing wrong and there’re no better options,
“Then would you rather I jeopardize my troops and wait for them to attack so you can play last minute savior? Will you finally feel justified then? Gambling the lives of the very men who risked theirs to save yours?”
She completely silences at that. Biting her lips bitterly, she’s wavering. He hugs her, softening his voice,
“Please Lumeria, don’t do this. I love you.” and she cries,
“I... I don’t know who you are, Soril. I have obligations as an Angel. This is wrong. I can’t do this... I can’t-” He lifts her chin up, piecing her fringe from her face and kisses her tears away. There’s a fright in her eyes. Fear, so unbefitting of her. He embraces her tight until she no longer shakes,
“God won’t hone his Angels into weapons if he truly didn’t want you to kill. What does that say about your God and your obligations? It’ll get easier with time.” He’ll get her used to it. He consciously omits. Keeping his smile quiet to himself. His Angel. His beautiful, monstrous little Angel that he intends to keep.