Chaos

Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

Chaos floated lazily on the particularly crisp air currents of the night. He felt sluggish and intended to take as much time gathering these souls as he could. The necklace floating in front of his face began to glow brighter signifying that there was soul near by. Sure enough there was a centralized glowing mist hovering above a near by roof top. 

All souls were white but some shone brighter than others, the more pure your heart, the brighter your soul. When they were still in your body they cast an aura about you and Chaos was one of the select few who could see them. Only fallen angels souls were different, they were black and tainted-just like their wings. 

“Erthei aftii psychi tropo.” Chaos felt the ancient language forming on his lips. All souls knew the True language and were bound by it. 

“Come here soul.” Chaos had commanded it in ancient tongue. 

It was a sloppy dim soul, sauntering over to him with the occasional dip in altitude. 

Chaos pressed the glowing pearl against his cool lips and whispered “Varkaris.” Tendrils of light snaked out from its center blindly searching for the soul, like a hound trying to pick up on a scent. It took merely a second more before they wrapped around it’s circular body, digging its spindles into the heart of it. 

With a flash of light the soul was safely snagged and secured in the pearl.  Once more his necklace hung limply around his neck with a significant weight difference.

“Looks like my job is done.” Chaos prodded his necklace to see if it would spring to life again. It didn’t and he was more than relieved. Although this had been his duty all his life, he hated doing it. Some days he enjoyed the power it gave him, some days he was content knowing that he was guiding them to the life ever after. 

But on most days, like today...he hated it. He hated hearing the souls cry out, an unearthly sound of sorrow and confusion. It was a high pitched ringing that only increased the longer they were not collected. 

His father once had been charged with this duty but the job of the “ferryman” was passed on to Chaos the day he was born. He collected the souls and brought them to his father who would then send them to Yahweh. 

Chaos began to make his way back to the cathedral when the faint outline of a soul  began to rise above a near by roof top. It was only outlined, meaning that whoever was inside was not yet dead. The longer it takes for the outline to fill in, the more prolonged and painful the death was for the mortal.  

He angled his wings downwards and came to perch on the rooftop across from the soul. Now it was just a waiting game... and Chaos hated waiting but he hated being in that cathedral even more. 

He sat on the roof top for what seemed to be an hour just listening to the voices the wind carried. This particular soul was taking its time, almost as if trying to hold out for something.

 “Curious” Chaos drawled only half interested. 

The sound of footfalls graced his ears making him swivel on his perch to locate them. Someone garbed in a heavy black cloak was springing from rooftop to rooftop, navigating each footfall precisely as if they’d done it a hundred times. 

For extra precaution Chaos pulled a near by shadow towards him and wrapped it around his body, making him virtually invisible. 

The person bounded over to his perch and he caught a slight flash of deep fiery red hair. They vaulted over the side and began to make their way down the street  at an increasing rate. All of a sudden something hit him- this persons aura was dark like his own. 

“A fallen angel?” He questioned but dashed it aside because they had no wings. 

“Well they are mortal, that much I can tell...” Curiously he watched as the person bounded over to the house he was watching. They vaulted into the window and that’s when the screaming started. 

Chaos hesitated for a moment on the roof top, his number one rule was to never see the body of a soul. He meant to distance himself from it, “no emotion” he could hear his fathers words swimming around in his brain. 

“Father! Father!” A female voice cried inside of the house. Chaos let curiosity get the better of him and glided soundlessly into the house. 

There on the floor was an old man with misty fog slowly leaving his body- clearly the one dying. Next to him on the floor was a woman with fiery red hair, her heavy cloak hood was thrown back letting soft curling ringlets flow down her back . 

“Father wake up!” She cried out horsely. Curiously Chaos squinted his eyes and saw that this man had no relation to her what so ever. Chaos had the peculiar ability to see ties between families. Each family tie was like a glowing ribbon wrapped around each person, all possessing a one of a kind color.

Curious that she called this man father. Perhaps she didn’t know her true father, Chaos wondered. But one thing was certain this woman had a dark aura- one of her parents had to be a fallen angel. The question was: did she know it? 

Aguish was coating the air around him uncomfortably, as was pain, making it hard for him to breath. He watched the woman cry out and hold the mans frail body against her boyish frame. 

Wether it was the emotions in the air, his lack of patiences or something else...on that day he did something he’s never done before. He plucked the mans soul before he was fully dead. 

Tentatively he laid a hand on the girls shoulder, even to this day he couldn’t figure out what possessed him to do so. She snapped her head up at his touch and looked around the room. Her light green eyes starred right into his for a second before she brought her head down again. 

It frightened him. 

“Of course she couldn’t see me.” He kept telling himself reassuringly as he took flight once more. 

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