Holy

Prologue

   It was hard to keep her lungs clear as she ran through the fire spreading quickly through the forest. Carrying the small child in her arms made it harder to get away fast, but the panting and growling of the demons chasing them urged her to run, run, run.
   Where is he? She thought to herself as she looked back at the monsters cloaked in black smoke that were relentlessly chasing her.
   In a moment of quick thinking, she raised her arm and used the rest of her already depleted energy to send a crack of lightning down on the twisted creatures. They whined and tripped over their own feet, crashing into each other as they tried to continue their chase. She finally made it out of the brush and found herself at the top of the cliffside, the waterfall below her roaring against the rocks further below. The sound was deafening in her ears, and her legs burned with ache, but, even so, she spread her wings and continued running, the air tickling her feathers as she started to ascend. The wind, despite the fire that was spreading without prejudice, was cold and it nipped at her cheeks as she flapped hard against the ash-filled breeze. The trees behind her fell with a large crash and she heard the knowing sound of the hellhounds behind her.     Flapping harder, begging for an updraft to carry her away, she pulled the child even closer to her chest and begged the gods to watch over them as the hellhounds drew ever closer.
   As if her prayers had been answered, a strong gust of wind rose beneath her wings, rustling her feathers and sending her high above the ground, just beyond the reach of the jaws that snapped shut around the air where her feet just were. She now allowed herself to look down at the monsters, noting their canine figures that seemed to only consist of roils of smoke. Long talons and fangs dripped with an ink-black liquid that stained the grass below them as they paced the ground, staring at their escaped prey with loathing.
   The sound of another set of wings ascending on her flank pulled her attention away from the demonic creatures they'd left behind. Her partner, carrying a similar bundle in his arms, looked at her with a mixture of sadness and anger.
   "Where will we go now?" she asked.
   "I don't know," he answered, looking across the land that stretched before them. Dense wood was the only thing that could be seen for miles, but it didn't matter where they camped, the hellhounds wouldn't stop until they found them. "We need to go far. Very far. Somewhere they'd never think to look."

   Two weeks had gone by and they still hadn't found a permanent place to hide. When they couldn't fly any longer, they rented a room at a motel room somewhere in Canada. The receptionist, whose face was clouded by the cigarette smoke she continued to blow out, leaving a red lipstick stain on the butt of the stick, had given them a key and a simple wave of her hand, turning back to her Solitaire game on the computer. The room they found themselves in was less than satisfactory: the bedsheets had several stains that were questionable at best; the floors were no longer cream-colored, but brown and dingy from decades of people coming and going from seedy activities; the lights cast a yellow glow across the edges of the room, not doing the furniture any more justice than they already had.
   Sitting the children on the sofa, both of them sound asleep and cuddling against one another, the man and woman sat across from them on the bed to conduct a new plan.
   "They're too obvious," the woman said, noting the children's gorgeous tan skin and their blazing red hair. "We need to cloak them."
   The man nodded and she extended her hand, soft light emanating from her palm and washing over the two children. Like water, it dripped down their bodies, their red hair turning brown and their skin losing its ethereal glow. They looked like mortal children, but they still had an other-worldly presence about them.
   "This will mask their powers, too," she explained, watching as the children stirred slightly at the new-found feeling or lack thereof.
   "This is good," he said, resting a hand on her shoulder, "but their memories must be taken, too."
   A look of disdain fell upon her face, looking at the children with sadness.
   "They're still small, only two years old," he stated in an attempt to quell her mixed emotions. "They won't remember much, but the memories will be returned. I promise."
   Reluctantly, she nodded and watched as he stood, stepping the short distance to kneel before the two children. He placed his index fingers on each of the children's heads and withdrew dewy streams of light as he pulled his hands away. The wisps of light turned into two small blue beads that glowed in the dim light, and he rolled them in his hand. He turned to his companion and placed them gently in her own smaller hand.
   "Keep them safe," he murmured, closing her fingers around the beads. "We'll return these to them when the time is right."
   She nodded gently and plucked a strand of her hair from her head, using her magic to create a thin, gold chain through which she looped the beads. Securing it around her neck, the beads glistened with purity and light.
   "Let's find a safe place," he said, holding her hands in his, "And raise them, as normal children. We'll protect them from the things that will try to get them, and the people that will try to do them harm. They'll be safe."
   They agreed on a small, quiet down on the West coast of America, hidden by the overcast weather and thick forests. Washington, that's where they'd go. They'd protect these two children, and their secret, from every force that would try to get them. No matter what it costs.