The Morningstar Brigade

Chapter 59

XXXXXIX

URIEL

Day Nine. Four Days Remain.

Chariot Crash Site, Eden

Isaac's knife shot forward, darting between the plates of Uriel's armor and tearing through his side. "What's wrong, Uriel?" he asked, striking him across the face. "Where's that bloodlust? That anger? Don't disappoint me, now."

"That's... that's not possible," Uriel gasped, stumbling backwards and clutching his wound. He raised his sword and and narrowed his eyes. "You can't be a Nephilim."

"And why not?" Isaac chirped, dashing forward and whipping his bladed foot towards Uriel's thigh. "Don't deny what's before your eyes. More of your life is fake than you even realize. I'm just trying to help you ease into reality."

Uriel grabbed Isaac's foot mid-swing and thrust his sword towards Isaac's chest. "You joined the Brigade," he sputted. "You volunteered. You were an candidate before any of us. Fishers would have had to sign your papers; you'd have had a background check and interviews. How could you have been a Nephilim all that time?"

"Well, that's easy," Isaac said with a smile, deflecting Uriel's blade harmlessly downwards with a slap of his dagger. "I'm not Isaac."

"Are you just mocking me now?" Uriel growled, throwing a left hook at Isaac's face.

The imp ducked below the swing and coiled around Uriel so that his dagger was pressed against his enemy's neck. "Sheesh, don't get so testy," he chided. "I've always been the Isaac that you know, that charming and rapacious rogue. But I'm afraid I never grew up in Utopia." He studied Uriel's face. "Come on, you're started to get it right? We've been watching the Brigade carefully for a while. When the call went out for a new crop of recruits, I found the poor soul closest to me in age and general description with little to no personal ties that would trip me up." He drew the dagger lightly along Uriel's neck, just enough to draw a drop of red. "After he received all his Brigade documents, said goodbye to his friends and gave the Fisher a touching hug, I killed him." Isaac shrugged. "You guys should really use some photo identification; stealing someone's identity here is ridiculously easy. But, then again, Solomon is too busy inventing his useless toys to re-engineer something practical."

"You're a monster," Uriel spat, whipping his head back and slamming it into Isaac's forehead. He wove his sword underneath Isaac's shoulderplate and slashed at the vulnerable flesh as his opponent stumbled backwards from the blow.

Isaac clicked his tongue, clutching his shoulder as steady trickle of blood rushed down his arm. "A headbutt? You have learned something from me afterall," he said cheerfully. "I will say this about Isaac: That poor little guy was a fighter. Probably would've made a good Shepherd. You'd have liked him. I mean, he just kept screaming and punching me and punching me while I-" Isaac looked up at Uriel's horrified face. "Right, you don't care. My bad, I'm babbling, I'm just having so much fun now," he said, beaming. "I've been waiting for this moment since Lilith first gave us your name."

"But I've seen your eyes! You touched the Tree of Life! You spoke with it, you carved your weapons! Even Lady Vigilant believed you! How is that possible if you're a Nephilim?" Uriel demanded.

"You know, you're not the only one with a special talent," Isaac said, closing his eyes. "It doesn't make many friends on Earth," he said, lifting his eyelids to reveal a pair of half-finished brown eyes, "but it has its benefits." Isaac let out a slow sigh of relief as the last few bits of his irises and pupils filled in. "And this is more than just something fun at parties," he explained. "It's no illusion; this is my true eye color. As we speak, I'm suppressing my fallen blood and allowing my Breath some air." He shrugged. "Admittedly, it isn't perfect. My body aches and I almost get a migraine trying to maintain the transformation at the Keep; that Tree of Life is not kind to Nephilim blood. But in every respect, at this moment, I may as well be human." He glanced over at the Gardener's mangled corpse. "Our little friend over there is the only one who ever caught on. Had to show my hand a bit sooner than I was planning. I still don't know how he did it," Isaac said with a sigh. "Well, at least his Breath made a tasty snack. I hate fighting on an empty stomach."