Draiks and Angels: Deity

3 - Unsealed

"Cona, any word from Satiya yet?" Michael called, walking into the library.

Cona pulled out her cell phone and looked at the notifications. No texts. No calls.

"Nothing."

Michael hummed, "That's strange. She's normally so quick to respond. I hope she's okay."

"You still have her key? Want to go check out her place? I have to finish this paperwork," Cona grimaced.

"Good idea. Yeah, I'll go."

Michael walked out of the library and flew down the foyer steps to the front door. He walked out into the noon sun and rubbed his arms. It was getting chilly for fall. He would have to switch shirts soon. For now, he would stick with his sleeveless shirt that was cut low in the back to go around his wings.

It was about a ten-minute flight to Satiya's apartment from the mansion where Cona grew up, and where they had raised Satiya. Michael knocked, rang the doorbell, and called for her, but Satiya did not answer. Worried now, he unlocked the door with the spare key. He found her cell phone on her nightstand with messages from him and Cona, but she was nowhere in sight. He replaced her phone on the nightstand.

While he was reaching for the cell phone in his pocket to call Cona, there was suddenly a large rushing noise and smoke arose all around him, stinging his eyes and making him cough. He heard a cough beside him and peered through the haze. As it started to clear, he saw Cona lying on her back on the ground next to him, pen in hand.

There was a soft pop, and Cona yelped. Michael started to call to her, when someone jumped him from behind, wrapping their arm around his throat and shoving a fabric-covered ball into his mouth. They held it there with one hand as Michael tried to pull their hand away with both of his. Cona saw what was happening, quickly rolled over and got to her feet. She wielded her pen like a sword, causing a magic blade to spring from it. There was another pop, and Cona winced as she was struck by another projectile. Other hands shoved bands over Michael's wings and pulled his hands away from the one at his mouth. They dragged him backward, away from Cona.

Cona looked dizzy: she started swaying on her feet. She fell to her hands and knees, dropping her weapon and turning it back into just a pen, then collapsed to the floor. Michael resisted with added vigor, trying to get to Cona, and the ones holding him cried out in a language he didn't understand. A human male in a robe came over carrying a black gun and pointed it at Michael. There was another pop, and Michael felt a pain in his thigh. After a few more moments of struggling, his vision began to fade and soon he collapsed as well.

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Michael woke slowly. He was sore. He wasn't a spring chick anymore and that struggle had not been gentle. He realized he was cuffed, hand and foot, hands behind his wings, which he could feel still had bands on them. The fabric ball was still in his mouth, sucking all the moisture out and into the cloth. It was held in place with a wide leather strip that had a hole in the middle, which fit over the ball as it stuck partially out of his mouth. The strip was then tied around the back of his head. He tried pushing the ball out, but it wouldn't budge. He looked around him and saw he was in some kind of cage made of metal bars for the four sides and metal plates for the top and bottom. Looking outside the cage, he could see a large flat area, a circle maybe, carved with lines. Across the way was another cage. Inside was Cona, still unconscious. She was also chained hand and foot, wings bound.

Michael rolled onto his side and shuffled his legs underneath him until he could get up on his knees, bent over enough that his wings weren't damaged. The cage was too short for him to stand in, and he wasn't sure he could have managed it anyway, with his ankles cuffed. He huffed in frustration. Whoever these people were, they knew what they were doing.

From his left, he saw someone in a robe enter the room, followed by another. Soon a whole stream of robed beings had lined themselves up around the chamber. Humans, he thought, though he couldn't be sure. A single robed person entered next, carrying a golden box engraved with many geometric designs. Michael watched as he walked to a spot in between the two cages, opened the box, and took out a gold object. It was about six inches tall and looked like a cross with a loop for the top post. He placed it on the floor and walked back out with the box.

The robed people began to hum. The golden object began to glow red. Michael glanced at Cona, but she was not awake. The humming took on a higher pitch and the object started to float into the air. Suddenly the item snapped upright, and Michael was wracked with indescribable pain! He jerked as all his muscles tensed, unable to even scream. He could feel his magic being pulled from him and into the object, a scrap at a time, leaving nothing behind.

After what seemed like an eternity, his magic was drained, the pain ceased, and he collapsed. Weakly, he looked at Cona in the other cage and could barely discern her magic was still being pulled from her. But she was still unconscious. How could she not wake up under such unbearable pain? Then he realized. They had shot him with a tranquilizer before, they must have shot her, too. Enough that she wouldn't wake now and be able to use her magic to fight back. She didn't need words, so a gag was useless. They needed to keep her unconscious if they were to keep her subdued. But he was glad she was not awake to feel the pain.

After another eternity, Cona's magic was finally drained. If he ever needed a reminder of how much more power she had than him, here it was. The golden item shivered and glowed bright red, as though it would explode at any moment. The humming changed into chanting. Michael didn't recognize the language again. He could see magic stream from the golden object and settle on the floor around which the robed figures stood. The lines began to glow, and the chanting picked up pace. More magic flowed. Michael could feel it beneath him, even through the cage floor. The lines started emitting black light and he got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The chanting had come to a furious beat when there was an explosion on the floor between the cages, underneath the golden artifact. The robed people were blown over backward, and Michael ducked his head to protect his eyes. Smoke swirled around the whole floor, making it hard for him to breathe.

It was silent for a moment, then a shockwave shot across the room, clearing the smoke. At the center of the room, holding the golden artifact in its hand, was a Shadow.