✔ || Save Me [[SEQUEL to DISTRACT ME]]

Chapter 2

The day he was born was rather uneventful. Nothing exciting was happening in the human realm, and he quickly found out that he had a relatively small number of wards from the giggling cherubim who had taken it upon themselves to make the welcomers' tasks a little harder that day. To him, though, it couldn't have been better because everything was new and exciting and perfect.

He was first aware of light. It was warm and gentle and he blinked, trying to properly focus on it. He swiveled his head, his wings lying helplessly behind him, and his eyes slowly focused and he cocked his head. One of the cherubim flitted forward, and the boy smiled at it.

"Alright, you," a kind voice suddenly said. A man with tawny wings folded against his back and hair of a matching color stepped into the boy's sight, waving a hand to make the cherub back up. It obeyed, giggling with its friends. The man bent and held out a hand, palm facing upward. The boy blinked at it and then looked up at the man before taking his hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. "There we go, little one." He stumbled, but the man caught him around his middle. The cherubim laughed again and the man rolled his eyes, "Why don't you three actually do something productive and get this hatchling some clothes, please?"

Only one cherub, the one that he had smiled at, obeyed the man, darting away and then returning with a pair of red trousers. The man helped him into them patiently, letting him tip and stumble as much as he needed to until the pants were sitting safely on his hips. The boy wetted his lips nervously.

"Who - where -" he started.

The man raised his eyebrows, impressed. "You're talking already! That's good, little one, that's good. Do you know your name?"

The boy screwed up his face, thinking hard.

"It's okay if you don't, not everyone figures it out right away."

"It's - it's -" the boy frowned. There was something playing at the tip of his tongue, just waiting for him to understand it. And then he knew, and he murmured, "Kim Taehyung."

The man nodded, smiling gently, "Hi there, Taehyung. Welcome to, well, existence. You are a guardian, do you understand what that means?"

Taehyung hesitated, but then something deep in his core explained his purpose to him, something deep enough to be considered tantamount to DNA. "Yes."

"You have," the man pursed his lips, concentrating on something far away. "Thirteen thousand, two hundred, and fifty-eight wards. Fewer than the last guardian."

"Wha -?" Taehyung breathed.

The man shook his head, "Patience, Taehyung. We have less than an hour together, so please, follow me."

Taehyung obeyed, holding tightly onto the man's hand as he took his first questioning steps. The man guided him forward, smiling encouragingly as he found his bearings. His fifth and sixth limbs flapped uselessly behind him, and he caught a glimpse of an inky black wingtip out of his peripheral. He gasped lightly, and the man crooned, "They are very pretty wings, Taehyung. You will learn how to properly use them soon, I promise."

The man let him stop and Taehyung twisted his head to look at them, entranced. They really were pretty, gleaming under the soft light, and huge. He flapped them experimentally, giggling like a child, until they smashed into a table and knocked off its contents. He immediately dropped them and they fell heavily onto the floor, fanning out behind him. A sheepish smile pasted itself on his face. The man laughed patiently, "Come now, Taehyung. You're playful, aren't you? It'll take a little bit to gain full control of your body, so why don't you just let your wings relax? It's okay to bump into stuff, we just can't do it on purpose."