The rain poured down in heavy sheets. I stood still in the center of the path, arms spread wide. I had never felt like this before. Venerable. Human. Alive
The muscles of my back ached. I could feel the material of my shirt resting against the fresh wounds there. I was only glad that the blood had stopped flowing.
I felt free without my wings. Every time I had removed some else's, it had felt like a shame. They would never be able to fly, never be accepted as trustworthy again, but I felt delighted. The weight on my back was gone. I realized that you didn't need wings to touch the clouds.
When I was thoroughly soaked, I began to wander North, mind set. I needed to find Elliot. Amyra would be angry if I stalled any longer. I knew that Council would be off my trail, for a little while at least. They couldn't possibly know that I was gone yet.
I hoped they would send Nail to find me. He was their best Warrior, but I was the better Healer. I had been forbidden to fight, I could inflict too much damage. I smiled as I walked and ignored the smoke coming off me. I was more happy than I could ever remember being.
Because I had been set free of my duties, and I could finally kill him.
YOU ARE READING
The Fate Of The Marked
FantasyBook One in The Marked Chronicles. "He must be Thrown." The angel that spoke stared down at the young boy sedated in the infirmary bed. The angel's name was Aabel. He was timeless. Tall stature, massive white wings that fluttered in agitation...
