Prayer of the Damned

4

Zephyr

I give the human some time before I visit her. I'm head to my fathers temple, my home, the one I grew up in. It stands glorious and shining against the horizon, covered in vines and roses, looking abandoned. But the well worn path of Fallon's footsteps tell a different tale. I smile and trace her steps, entering the temple, feeling the ripple of my parents power as I walk through their barrier.

My father sits on his sofa in the sitting room, his brows raised as he reads a newspaper. My mother hums, floating about.

"I may go out tonight," she remarks. "A little outing?"

She looks over at him in silently, turning her head down in question. My father takes his head and then shakes it infinitesimally.

"Tomorrow perhaps?" He offers instead, holding his hand out. My mother grins, and floats toward him as I enter the room.

Though my mother has free will as any goddess does, it is my understanding that my father is older than her, and has a different sense of things that she does. I've seen this my whole life, the quiet askance of my mother. She always told me, that my father would let you do whatever you want, but when he disagrees, things go awry.

She was never wrong.

My mother hasn't noticed me, but my father has, likely why he's decided she should wait until tomorrow to go out. I smile the house smelling of cookies, roses and steel.

"Hello mother. Father."

My mother leaps up, rushing toward me, throwing her arms around me, she shakes me, the roses that spiral around the columns of the house gleaming brightly.

"My baby! When did you get here! Look at you!" She leans back, frowns, and slaps my shoulder. "Where have you been? Your father and I have been calling you? How could you ignore your mother?!"

I offer my father a frantic look, but he raises his brows, and adjusts his paper, raising it further to hide his eyes. Traitor.

Mother kisses and hits me, vines crawling toward me, keeping me in place, subconsciously following my mothers wish to keep me home.

"Monika," my father gruffs from behind the paper. "Give the boy some room to breathe."

My mother barely moves floating next to me, fussing over my hair, as I attempt to break myself free from her vine filled crutches.

"Yes, I love you too Mom." I mutter, as she kisses my cheek once more, holding on to my shoulders. My mother is pretty small, especially compared to everyone else in the family. She stays in the air, I suppose to even the playing field.

I take her hand, kiss her cheek and give her a light nod.

I greet my father who's finally put his paper away, standing. He raises his brows sternly before breaking out into a grin, and hugging me tightly, lifting me off the ground. I grunt a bit, as he winds me.

"Father...my ribs."

"They'll heal. How have you been my son? Did you do what I asked you?"

I smile as my father pulls away ruffling my hair. I quietly fix it back and shrug. "I wouldn't call it asking more like demanded, threatened even—"

He waves his hand. "Details details. Did you?"

I shrug. My father rolls his eyes, putting his hands on my shoulders. 

"Doesn't something look different about him, little wife?"

My mother peers into my eyes cocking her head, her curls wisping around her face. "Mh, I think there is," her eyes glow with a slight red hue. 

I slink away. This is why I don't come home. "I only came to say hello. Azareal told me to say hello, and you know big brother doesn't often make requests."

My father's face falls my mother goes quiet. So many secrets hide in my family. I at least know that much. The mysteries that lurk in this temple are many, varied and traumatic no doubt. Still, it is my home, and the familiarity is comforting for a while. I visit with my parents for a little while, before returning to my bride-to-be-- my Shir. I lick my lips in anticipation. 

"Father," I ask hm, standing next to him as he admires the roses that flourish under my mother's care.

"Hm?" He hums.

"I need my cloud," I inform him. "For my...mission."

He raised his brows.