Army of Sin - Season 2 - The Gathering

Episode X - Angel In The Attic

Location: Eze, France

Fredial smiled at the child running towards him as mid-morning sunlight bounced off the strands of blond curls. The cramped confines of the attic was but a tingling nuisance in the form of a dull itch between his shoulder blades as the need to spread his wings came ever so often. Breaking the warm kiss of sunlight against the back of his neck, the angel dropped to one knee, bringing himself level with the little boy as the child all but jumped into his arms.

He was careful not to crush the child – even being but a mere three centuries old; young in angelic terms, did nothing to lessen the disparity in strength between him and any mortal, far less that of a child. Fredial came to his feet in a smooth motion as the child’s strong feet dug into his stomach in search of a foothold, his tiny hands full of the garment the angel wore as he clambered higher.

“That’s enough Louvel,” his mother called softly.

“It is okay,” Fredial replied just as softly, face still woven in a smile as the woman’s son pulled on his hair in an effort to reach his destination.

The angel could have done it himself; less than a fingertip of effort to lift the child and place him atop his shoulders, yet he stood stoically, having chosen to nuture the little boy’s budding confidence.

With a shout of victory Louvel threw his hands into the air before placing his tiny fists atop the angel head. His victory was short lived as a hand snaked upwards to pluck him from atop his perch and returned to the floorboards of the attic, the ritual greeting between himself and the kind-faced angel now at an end.

“How are you child?” The angel greeted in the child’s mother tongue, amber eyes holding a kindness unlike those of his older brethren.

“Fine thank you,” Louvel replied, face slightly pink from his previous exertions.

“And you, gifted mortal, how fare you?” Fredial asked, straightening to his full height before cupping the back of Louvel’s head as together they crossed the distance to where Gigi stood, the tray of food still in her palms.

“I am fine thank you,” Gigi replied, holding out the tray in offering.

“Many thanks,” he replied, taking in the stiffness that rested across her shoulders, the shifting of her weight from foot to foot. “Where is Salim”?

Gigi did her best to hide her reaction, knowing that this angel, of the lower classed designations – Observers would have picked up on the slightest trace of her discomfort. She knotted her hands behind her back, still feeling the small electrical arc that raced through her fingers as his fingers had brushed against her own when accepting the meal.

She shook her head, looking down at her son before back into the smooth cream of the angel’s face, silently willing him to leave that particular topic alone.

Fredial nodded in understanding before mussing the hair of the child standing in the space between them, “Go play little one, I must speak to your mother.”

With a wave of his hand a low table appeared in a corner of the room, with it, a box containing a puzzle sat awaiting to stimulate the young one’s mind.

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They stood alongside each other as they often did, overlooking the narrow streets below; far from equals, yet able to co-exist for the time being. Gigi leaned against the window sill as Fredial ate the warm meal in measured bites, the thin layer of foil having kept the food at optimum temperature. There were no stains around his mouth, no noisy smacking of lips as he balanced another spoonful within his long, slender fingers, eyes staring out across the ocean that could be seen from their height.

He was a beautiful man, devoid of the rugged looks that drew her to Salim like moth to flame. Yet the smooth curve of his hairless chin, the warm amber of his eyes were enough to still have her stealing glances from beneath the curve of her lashes. The power of him leaked from his pores, so strong that she could feel the pulse of him across her skin… and he was but a junior in the angelic hierarchy. Her mouth grew dry as she imagined meeting one of the soldier designation, heart caught in a vice as she imagined meeting an archangel.

“Breathe, mortal,” he instructed, “The sound of your blood is like a waterfall at the moment,” using the pinkie of his right hand to scratch the inside of his ear.

“What are they like?” Gigi asked.

“The Archangels? I know not. Most of my time is spent observing this plane of existence,” a hand sweeping out to encompass the view below. “Fear not, the chance of you meeting one is very slim as there are those of the lower ranks more than capable of executing a kill order if necessary.”

“Are you attempting to scare me Angel?” Gigi asked, feeling herself bristle.

“Simply stating fact. Not to mention, your heartbeat has slowed,” he replied with a wink, tapping his ear.

Gigi had always been strange in that sense, never having the explosive anger of some of her peers in the culinary industry. Instead, she was always flooded by a sense of calm in the most trying of times. "There is no need to remind me of the guillotine floating above my head," she replied in an even tone.

"Oh but there is, mortal, you and the other six of your kind; the destructive power you contain must be held in check."

"I have never once felt an urge to harm someone; I conduct myself with respect at all times."

"There is also the addition of my presence in your life. There is a reason you can see me."

"Can you promise me one thing?" She asked after a pause.

"Bold, but I shall grant you a pass," he offered, looking at her from beneath gold dusted lashes.

"Can my son be spared?"

"The time draws near when he shall lose the sight of the Innocent," Fredial replied, a fleeting touch of sadness as his eyes fell upon where the little boy busied himself with the remaining third of the puzzle. "There should be no need."

"Thank you."

"What shall you tell him? When he can no longer see my kind?" The angel asked, a light breeze tugging at the plane white robe he wore, stirring a few of the feathers just above his shoulders.

"You are but the only one he has ever seen; it should not be too difficult to convince him of your departure."

"Very well then… and Salim? Does he still think I am some giant bird that you feed?"

"It can all be blamed on a child's imagination," Gigi shrugged, stealing another look at the incredible being at her side.

"Thank you for the meal, but I must take my leave now," the angel replied, flaring out his wings in a stretch, handing over the now empty dish. Before tucking in the wings to allow him to fit through the window, he plucked out two feathers before offering it to her, "To two mortals who perhaps under different circumstances I may have grown to call friends."

Gigi accepted the flowers as her son came to stand at her side, face downcast as he knew his strange friend was about to take his leave. "Thank you Angel, until next time."

Bending at the knee, the angel hugged the little boy for what he knew would be the last time. It would be nothing for him to reveal his presence to the child as he continued to grow older, but that was considered taboo by his brethren; an act that could prevent him from ascending in rank or worse, being cast out. The last casting out had been centuries before he was born and his aim was to keep it that way. "Grow tall and strong my friend, I shall always be watching."

Nodding at the woman, he took two steps before tucking his body and launching himself through the window, snapping out his wings as soon as he cleared the glass.

The last the pair of mother and son saw of him was the sunlight catching the blonde of his waist-length hair billowing around his shoulder blades, great wings taking him higher and higher out of sight.

Turning away from the view, Gigi handed her son the gift of the feather; white body with a touch of gold near the base, a slender hand at the back of his golden curls as she ushered them out of the room.

                      END OF EPISODE