Avi

Chapter 4: Intra-National Racism

It bothered her that her two brothers and both her parents had to leave home at times not too far from each other. Of course her guardian angel imp Jun was with her, but Jun was in no means an equal being; he was more of a human-like animal. Jun didn’t speak, but his smiles were reassuring enough.

            Cherie Clausewitz, though, sometimes needed someone to talk to. Tossing her ball towards Jun who was anticipating catching it, Cherie floated above her familiar, only to see Jun’s eyes and mouth widen in surprise.

“What is it-“

            And suddenly, a heavy mass pressed against her back, and slammed her to the rock plate flooring in front of their home. Two identical guns skipped through the plates, hitting the walls of her house. Thankfully, the guns weren’t cocked, or else they would have been shot countless of times.

            Jun dropped the ball in awe and fear before he ran to his mistress, and pushed whatever mess of mass was on top of her. Turned out that it was another angel, a female, and was covered in soot; to top it all off, the woman was also unconscious.

            “Ugh, what on earth was that?!” Cherie groaned as she stood up and dusted herself. She turned to the woman behind her, and then to Jun. “Queer; she seems to have exploded. Either there really is something wrong going on, or Croix is behind this foolishness.”

            Jun silently came to the woman’s side and poked her with the ball, but she did not respond. He shot his large eyes towards Cherie, almost as if telling her that Croix was, for the first time in years, actually gone in pure business. “Is she still alive?” Cherie inquired.

            Jun turned back to the woman and put his index finger in front of her nose. Feeling a soft breath, he nodded and continued to carry her on his back. Cherie looked at him in confusion. “Put her down,” she said. “We aren’t sure who she is, or where she is from.”

            Jun put the woman down, but pointed to her wings.

“I know she’s from Gaeia too, but I meant if she’s good or bad.”

            Jun turned back to the unconscious person and shook her a bit. She stayed asleep. This time, Cherie rolled her eyes.

“Fine; take her to the house, and we’ll see what’s with her.”

            Azrael had always told her not to take strangers into their settlement, especially if these people looked suspicious. Though the Human-Etherean war was far over, he still had doubts with wingless beings, and even those who had wings, but were from unfamiliar tribes. Croix always told him to lighten up, but the older of the two was defiant and believed that trust is always earned, never born with.

            “Go check her if she’s alright; if she isn’t go call a healer.” Cherie ordered as she reached for some medicinal herbs and minerals. She was no good with those, but she wanted to get them ready if ever a healer would come and need them. Cherie believed in punctuality, and any tardiness is a waste of time, a precious commodity that can only run out.

            She watched her familiar check the woman’s pulse, and then her body for injuries; after several minutes, Jun turned to her with a smile as he shook his head. Cherie sighed and sat up. “At least we know she is all right.”

            She turned to Azrael’s medicinal tea set and wondered if she was capable of brewing anything that would help the woman get better the moment she woke up. Truth be told, she wasn’t as talented in the kitchen as she was in the shooting range, but she always loved experimenting on the household ingredients, much to Azrael’s dismay. Croix always welcomed her creativity, but Cherie knew that it was only because Croix knew such creativity aggravated Azrael deeply.