Ebony Wings

31

~Ethan~

Bodies, hundreds of them, crawl forwards; a mass of broken wings and wasted muscle, coming to take what is ours. I pull two daggers free from my chest harness, tossing them in my waiting hands. My wings release with a whirl of air and lengthen either side of me, the dispensation lightening my steps and quickening my movements.   

Jack stands tense beside me with a similar leather framework strapped across his body adorning various close-proximity combat blades. His wings release also, his feathery tips brushing mine.

Approximating their distance from us, the uneven terrain and their steady speed, I quickly calculate an estimated time of arrival.

"Two and a half minutes," I warn, sending a quiet prayer to The Throne for Ali's safety. I swallow nervously, sweat suddenly gathering across my forehead and palms as their distant cries can be heard. I dry my hands down the fabric of my trousers trying to hide my uneasiness from Jack. Pre-battle anxiety is a new feeling for me and Jack knows it as he watches me sheath and resheath my weapons restlessly. 

"I have never seen you this sensitive about a mortal's life." It takes me a moment to realise that Jack is speaking to me.

"Their deaths will be on us," I remind him, deterring the conversation. I push the swell of emotion down to a place that takes Ali away from the forefront of my mind, giving me a moment to focus on strategy instead. 

"If you want to try to deceive yourself, be my guest, but I know you too well, Ethan Hamon. You couldn't care less about any punishment," he turns to me and pokes my chest with the point of his blade, letting it bite sharply into my flesh. "You only care about if she lives so you can continue your fanciful romance." He stares me down, eyebrows pulled tight, but I don't budge. "After Angelina -"

"Don't bring her into this," I snarl, disarming him and pushing his blade back into his taught skin, just above his racing heart. He blinks for a moment, unsure of how he ended up in this position. But I am overcome with the memory of Angelina's face, clear in my mind as if she stood before me; her laugh like clinking crystal glasses, her opalescent eyes shimmering green, the gentle wave of her golden hair. So besieged by her image I don't realise that I have broken the flesh of Jack's chest until he groans in pain. 

I pull back and drop the blade like it scalded my skin, letting it clatter to the ground. Ali's face gently floats back into the centre of my thoughts, slowly filtering out the tortuous memories of Angelina until there is only Ali to calm my hysteria. Jack allows me a moment to recompose myself as he picks up his blade and brushes the dirt away. When I meet his gaze again, Jack looks to me both curiously and surprised. 

"Huh," he muses thoughtfully, taking a moment to consider me. "You actually like the girl." I avert my gaze, concealing everything my traitorous eyes may offer in response. He bites out a laugh in disbelief. "It just goes against every instinct within us to connect with another soul. I thought everything with Ali was just a performance; something to help you forget. I..." I can see the sincere apology on Jack's face before he even parts his lips. "I am truly sorry I didn't believe you."  

"It doesn't matter anyway," I sigh, my heart breaking all over again as I relive the moment I told Ali I could never love her. "I hurt her too badly last night. I know it was for the best, but I can't help but feel like..." I moan as the emotional pain manifests into something physical. "like I am losing Angelina all over again." Jack considers this, closely assessing my earnestness.