After A Storm...

It was a week before he could sit upright, even with the aid of mighty healing magic. It was a month before he could walk. And he walked now, to the edge of the floating plains, and cast his gaze down to the mortal world before him. A delicate flower blossomed at the very edge, and to even hazard attempt to retrieve it would mean certain doom for one of his physical state.

But Inodhill did not care about the flower. He did not care for anything at all, in fact. He was numb to the world. What was the use of his continued existence in this world? The metal shot should have pierced his chest but a few inches higher, and he would not have to suffer this torment. He felt her hand go limp in his, he felt her death. Then he felt nothing.

Inodhill felt his chest wound. Where the metal bullet had hit him. Even through the bandages he could feel the long sinuous line where they had sewed him up. He felt a wave of immense grief well up inside him. He wanted to scream, to let out a long, soul-cleansing scream. But he could not. He could scarce breathe without pain, let alone scream. He fell to the grass in a heap, precariously close to the edge of the floating plain. His walking stick rolled off the edge and fell, silently down to earth, but Inodhill paid it no heed, for he was buried deep within his own grief, weeping silently.

“It would not do to see you plummet to your death so soon after our healers have patched you up so nicely. It would be an insult to their craft.” The unmistakably melodious voice of Nadeshiko brought Inodhill back to the present. And to the fact that he was kneeling at the edge of a floating plain of land miles from the surface he knew so well.

“What exactly are you, ‘shiko? And where are we?” Inodhill did not bother looking over his shoulder.

“Me? Humph. I’d think you’ve guessed that by now. I am Seraphin. And this,” she waved her hand in a general circle, “Is our home, the Floating Plains of Alderon”

“Heh, well I guess that particular myth is true then, the Seraphin Guardians from Alderon, sent to the mortal world to guard the 49 Seals…” Inodhill turned round then, grimacing as sharp pain shot up his spine, “What next? You going to tell me that our gods are simply another race of mortals who have found the secret of immortality?”

Nadeshiko simply smiled at the mortal assassin. Inodhill’s cynic smirk slowly dissolved in to a stunned, slack-jawed look.

“No…” But before Inodhill could continue, Nadeshiko placed her fingers to his lips, a gesture for silence. Leaning in close, she spoke in a soft whisper.

“It does not matter if your gods were mere mortal sorcerers who chanced upon the secret to immortality and unspeakable power. Knowing that fact does not change anything, does it?”

“So what, in the bloody hells are you trying to say woman?!?” Inodhill started to yell, frustrated at her cryptic roundabout talk. But he fell to the grass gasping before he could even get a syllable out.

Nadeshiko was hovering at Inodhill’s side in an instant, her gossamer wings beating too rapidly for the eye to see.

The Seraphin were a paradox. They were of human build and appearance, but they had these wings on their back that looked like that of dragonflies. The wings were slightly longer than an arm’s length, yet they could beat at an impossibly fast rate, producing effortless lift.

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OOC: okay. I’m loosing it…I cant write anymore. I gotta sleep. Dance lessons tomorow