I was getting more anxious as the days passed with Zeekiel, keeping watch as the crow outside, while inside, I was trapped in isolation with only Dana for company.

  Each day, Dana brought out a new item from the basement, a worn but charming rug one day, a radio the next, transforming the sparse living room into a cozy haven. They were just old objects, but for her, the whole cellar was a memory box filled with treasures.

  She had everything from old reels and tiny VHS tapes to rugs, board games, and ancient books that were so old she wouldn’t dare touch them for fear they’d turn to dust. More color had come into her space, while she hung pictures and told me every story of every little knickknack.

  One day, we listened to some of her old audio recordings. Apparently, one of her old friends helped her to become a backup singer for over a decade and there was plenty of evidence of it. Though we laughed together as she retold the events of what led to them, her mood became more quiet as she slid out the cassette. “I always collect these things, but I never look at or listen to them. I just move the boxes from one place to another,” she said.

  “Do you know where she is now?” I asked about her friend.

  The curly haired woman shook her head as she dragged a box of plastic covers with faded handwritten labels. “I don’t even remember her name anymore,” she admitted. “I’ve known a lot of different people.”

  A sadness washed over me. After getting comfortable in her home and feeling some sense of normality thanks to her, there was a relationship between us. I thought we were friends and maybe one day consider her family. Was I going too far to think that way? Was I just a minor stroke of paint on the canvas of her memory?

  “How old are you?” I asked.

  “Thousands of years old,” she said without a beat or thought. “I wouldn’t be able to give you an exact age; I have a lot of memories missing.”

  I blinked, trying to register her words. Of course, she wouldn’t be able to remember me. I was hardly significant enough to be remembered in fifty years. Let alone thousands.

  The dread that dropped into my stomach wasn’t the same as coming to terms with my near death. It was heavy and impossible to push away from my mind.

  A thought began as a humble daydream, but soured into a harsh realization of my insignificance. I imagined one day my work would be famous enough that years after I departed, she would be reminded of my presence, but it left me with a sinking feeling. Death was a harsh reality, but the idea of everything moving on without me was haunting.

  “No wonder,” I choked. “That’s so much time you have to remember.”

  She waved her hand and slid back into leaning against the sofa. “It’s not just that,” Dana said as she gazed up. “I don’t remember anything from back home; the World I come from. My memories were taken while I was there. I did something that made them feel like I needed to be reset. That’s what Uriel was planning to have Adriel do to you with the scythe, you know? I couldn’t let him go through with taking yours. I’m sorry you have to be stuck here with me now.”

  “It was my choice,” I said, feeling terrible for all the times I may have second guessed, telling Uriel I wanted to stay. “And I’m glad I get to remember you.” It felt cheesy, but I was willing to say anything to make sure she felt better after everything she’d done to ensure my wellbeing and safety.

  ?????°???°?????

  The next day, as I sat in front of the TV, Dana entered the living room fully dressed and ready to go out. With keys in hand, she asked me, “How are you feeling today?”

  “Fine,” I said, finding it normal now the way she would randomly ask how I was feeling.

  “Uriel asked if I could take you to see him today. The drive is pretty long. Figured we could go early so I could do some shopping while you’re there.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s okay,” I managed to say, even though internally I was screaming, No! Not okay. Is she leaving me alone?

  Once in the car, the drive stretched on, my anxiety mounting with every mile that she wasn’t staying with me.

  She lowered the music to hear her GPS, and I took the moment to ask, “Where are you going?”

  “He’s out there. I said it was a far drive.”

  “I mean after you drop me off.”

  “I need to do some shopping. Get some groceries.”

  We were running low on food, having only grilled cheese sandwiches all day yesterday.

  “Ellie can’t get them again? Or Zeekiel?” I practically begged, hoping she’d change her mind. “Won’t everything be bad when we go back?”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Ellie’s going to be there with you, Zeek too, and I thought ahead with coolers in the trunk,” she was laughing as she tapped her temple until she looked over at me briefly. My misery mirrored in her large black sunglasses before she looked back to the road. She recognized me.

  “Plus,” she added, “Uriel wants to see you. Said he has something for you.”

  “Ok,” I said and looked out the window and that’s all it took for the music to go back up.

  Finally, the car stopped by the side of a narrow dirt street, and I had no choice but to exit through the driver’s door while she parked in the overgrown bushes. I allowed her to lead me into the woods, where she left me under a tree, claiming that she had to leave.

  As I stood there, confused and alone, I could feel the strange silence dripping over me as if the life of the forest had died in an instant. The jittering of bugs ceased while birds singing felt like long, distant calls.

  A chill spread down my back as I scanned the silent woods, feeling a strange shift in the air, only to find Zeekiel by my side, like a ghost coming to life from thin air.

  “Hi,” I squeaked, startled by his sudden presence.

  He looked down at me with eerie violet eyes that definitely weren’t present the last time I saw his dark gaze. I had no idea how’d he’d feel seeing me again since he’d spent his whole time at Dana’s outside. “Morning,” he said as he motioned for me to follow. “We have to go in a bit more to see Uriel.”

  I reluctantly trailed behind his black wings when he suddenly halted, and I bumped into him. The dark-winged void murmured to himself, and I followed his gaze.

  In Zeekiel’s silent void, a distinct sense of presence had consumed us. I could feel it before I ever saw the four-winged angel, looking very different from the last time I’d seen him. His auburn hair and iridescent amber eyes gave him an almost ethereal and handsome appearance, as if he had stepped out of a painted masterpiece. Under the sun’s rays, it was like a dance of colors that highlighted and shaded his features and wings.

  “Why are you out here?” Zeekiel asked, his voice carrying a note of caution.

  “I wanted to try to talk to you,” came Raziel’s response, his tone firm and commanding

  “You know what I can do to your face if you try to talk to me,” the dark-winged young man replied, shooting me a nervous glance and motioning for me to follow.

  Zeekiel distanced himself and I quickened my pace to keep up, but Raziel persisted in trailing behind us, his expression troubled yet focused.

  “Just ignore him,” Zeekiel muttered.

  Despite the tension in the air, I offered a feeble attempt at lightening the mood for a more pleasant walk. “I’m glad you look good,” I said awkwardly to the four-winged angel, attempting to break the tension. “I mean... Like, um, feeling better,” I explained, waving my hand over my face.

  Raziel nodded politely with a soft smile. “Thank you. Ari, right?” he asked.

  There was something refreshing about not being called my full name for once. I nodded and smiled back, feeling my palms growing more sweaty.

  “When are you going to go back home?” Zeekiel called out, interrupting any reply I had.

  “I can’t just go back home,” the four-winged angel said.

  “Afraid of what daddy will do if you go home?” Zeekiel mockingly cooed.

  Raziel remained serious. “I plan on taking over as King.”

  “Congrats, you should go back and do that then,” the dark-winged young man replied indifferently.

  “I need your help to convince the others to help fight.”

  “You seriously expect people to just follow you into what is pretty much war, so you can take over? That’s literally the most delusional shit I’ve heard in centuries. No demon or angel on this side of the universe is going to hear that. Everyone’s here because no one can fuck shit up as hard as they do it back home. And everything's already shit in a nest on both sides of The Ring here too.” Zeekiel moved faster, which seemed to be difficult for Raziel.

  Now that the prince was standing, I could see the weight of his wings as he managed to walk. Though he stood tall, it was almost unnatural, as if he were balancing backwards to keep his weight shifted.

  I wasn’t doing much better. I was right behind him, but I could feel myself gasping for quicker breaths.

  “Zeek!” Raziel yelled after him. “I thought you, of all people, would want to be by my side for this.”

  Zeekiel halted, and because of his exuding silence, I again walked into him, trying to follow. As he turned, his hand clasped my shoulder as he slid me aside, as if he were opening a door to stare Raziel down.

  “You don’t even know how to do a coup right,” Zeekiel continued, his voice tinged with frustration. “I’m not cracking good eggs for your stupidity.”

  “And you don’t understand the influence you still have,” the angel retorted.

  “Stop wasting my time,” Zeekiel snapped, raising his hands to his chest. “I don’t care. I’ve had the memory of you suppressed until your crested, feathered ass came out here.”

  “I just wanted to talk to you,” Raziel pleaded.

  Before Zeekiel could make another remark, I had to interrupt, or I was never going to make it to Uriel.

  “You know,” I began, “I’m kinda already stressed and was hoping for a relaxing stroll.”

  Both of them looked at me as if they’d forgotten I was there. “What’s really going on between you two? Can’t you just listen to each other so we can move on?”

  “No,” Zeekiel responded promptly while Raziel answered, “It’s complicated.”

  “Is it really important for you to go through the hassle this guy gives you?” I asked the four-winged prince, who definitely had far more patience than I would in his position.

  Raziel peered around as if he just registered why he brought himself here. “Yes. I intend to fix everything back to the way it should be,” the angel said, and Zeekiel’s eyes rolled back. “It’s partially my fault it’s come to this. Because of me Zeek never became King.”

  In the silence that followed, both of them seemed to wrestle with those words in separate ways. Raziel’s golden eyes were remorseful, while Zeekiel’s face sank with anger.

  “Zeekiel? A king?” I laughed, glancing back at the dark-winged void, but the fierce blaze burned the laugh off my face.

  Raziell nodded earnestly and finally looked past me as the mediator and said, “We promised to do it together.”

  “Let’s go,” Zeekiel said, but I didn't move. He paused, looking back with an impatient gaze.

  “Wait, I need to know more,” I whined playfully, attempting to get him to open up. But the serious, intense focus in his purple eyes wiped the smile off my face.

  “They didn’t tell you her story?” Raziel asked me.

  “What story?” I said.

  “Saniel’s. It’s-” Before the prince could say anything else, the dark-winged young man snapped.

  “Shut up. Her legacy should die with her,” Zeekiel growled.

  Raziel nodded in response, his gaze focused ahead. His lips squeezed, troubled by the unspoken words he had left.

  Zeekiel led the way through the dense forest, shadows danced with the relief of a breeze as sunlight filtered through the canopy above. Despite the tense silence, curiosity swelled within me. What was Saniel’s story?

  As we ventured deeper, I stole a glance backward. Raziel stayed close behind us, his expression unreadable, lost in his own thoughts.

  Twisted roots and fallen leaves crunched underfoot as if it were the only sound that couldn’t be drained from reality until we reached a small clearing where a couple of figures stood waiting.