It was unusual for Raziel not to be waiting for us at our designated spot to train. With the tension over the Sanctuary brought on by the dragon soldiers, I couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what kept him from coming. It was notable that the area had become a lot quieter since we started being watched over. After an hour passed without a sign of him, Ellie suggested we check on him before processing with our practice.

  We approached Meddy and Gibel’s; the colorful blooms that devoured the garden swayed lightly in the warm breeze. Ellie naturally led the way to the back, where she hesitated for a moment before peeking through the window and whispering, “He’s writing.” When she lightly knocked her knuckles against the glass.

  Raziel quickly opened the door, wearing only a pair of shorts. Normally, the four-winged angel wore Gibel’s vibrant fabrics, but with more skin showing, I noticed peeling burns on his toned, slender chest. He messily pulled his hair back into an elastic, and his eyelids mostly covered his bright golden eyes. “Morning,” he greeted, his smile tinged with weariness.

  Ellie started, “We came by to see if you wanted to practice today.”

  “Appreciate it, but I think I need a rest today,” Raziel replied. “Creating dreamscapes for you is going to take a lot out of me.”

  “We don’t have to practice every day,” Ellie protested.

  “I understand your apprehension,” Raziel said, “but don’t worry about me. I’ll also need to train Mia and Ari as well. Michael is a lot stronger than anyone we have holding a Guard on our side. I don’t wish to make either of you nervous, but we’re running out of time.”

  I interjected, “Why does Mia have to hold the barrier?”

  “Barriers are human magic,” Ellie explained.

  Raziel nodded, adding, “And Mia already has a skilled angel under her. After you help Ellie, hopefully we can get the two of you into her network.”

  I shifted my gaze away with a twinge of jealousy. Her network.

  The angel disappeared back into the room briefly and returned with a notebook in hand. “I’ve been talking to Gibel and recording everything he remembers about the Guards. The most basic ability of the staff is the flower, and I need your help to create it,” the prince said to me.

  I twisted my lips skeptically as I looked down at my staff. “I need a full connection with an angel for that, don’t I?”

  Raziel’s voice held a reassuring tone as he replied, “I only need you to unlock it for me, just as we did last time when we lit the staff. We’re going to need it. I anticipate an increase of angels from back home sending messages through human dreams.” He flipped through his notes, searching for the right page, and began to read aloud. “Both the flower and water possess sleep-inducing properties, but the flower has hallucinogenic properties-”

  I halted him, asking, “Wait, you want me to trip?”

  The four-winged prince looked momentarily confused, waiting for me to elaborate on my question until he said, “Oh, I think I understand. Sorry, I’m relying on remembering your language right now to reserve myself. Normally, I just read what you’re intending to say.” He paused, staring off as if trying to remember what he was talking about.

  “So, what are the flowers going to do?” I asked, putting him back on the right train of the thought.

  “Oh, the flower. When you take it, you won’t be awake to experience the side effects. We need it to ensure two things: that you can easily hold the dreamscape on your own and ensure you don’t fall into a deeper sleep, losing connection with Ellie. Once she brings you in, your task will be to maintain the dream, making it harder to find. Then Ellie can focus on protecting it, just in case.”

  “Are you sure nothing bad will happen?” I said.

  Raziel didn’t lie. “There are no guarantees, but we will do our best to deter any risks. You will be without your necklace, so if anyone infiltrates the dream, they could deceive you by taking Ellie’s place.”

  After saying our goodbyes to Raziel, Ellie and I continued down the worn dirt path, an unsettling quiet surrounding us, only broken when soft footsteps approached from behind. We turned to see Mia emerging alongside the brown-winged angel, her presence like a burst of orange color amidst the muted landscape.

  She wore more clothing than our last encounter, a pair of shorts paired with a button-up. I noticed the necklace around her neck; it was a replica of mine. A flicker of jealousy danced within me, unsure of why such a trivial detail sparked in me in that way. I was already told that every reincarnation had one.

  Mia gestured towards my staff and began to speak, her words a foreign language to my ears. It was only through the brown-winged angel Paul that I could understand her intentions. She wanted to examine my staff and offered to show me hers in return.

  As she revealed her trident, awe washed over me. The prongs were like an elegant crown. The two blades on the sides were curled, while the middle was cylindrical with a triangle topper. A design of waving swirls played around the gems shaded in blues and greens.

  At that moment, through Paul, Mia shared fragments of the story that led her here. Hailing from Brazil, she possessed a deep love for surfing, documenting herself and friends on an expedition along the diverse coastal areas stretching from Rio de Janeiro all the way to California. Her thirst for adventure radiated in her smile and animated gestures.

  Paul also told his own story, disclosing that while he had not been the one to locate and recognize Mia, he was a part of the group entrusted with her safety. Like my own journey, theirs remained hidden until an angelic attack. He spoke about what had happened to his group with what he called the reprogramming orbs. They were round devices that possessed the mobility to move on their own. His voice enveloped me in dread as he spoke. “Their bodies burst apart while their souls became trapped within.”

  To my look of horror, he explained that upon release, presumably back to The Kingdom, they would reform. It was an ability all angels possessed that allowed them to travel through the gates and reform on the other side.

  Mia was eager to showcase her magical abilities and demonstrated the wonders she could perform with her Guard. Fascinated, I watched as she twirled her slender fingers around the shaft. From the middle prong, water showered out, cooling my skin as it rained. Gleaming droplets streamed rainbows around us before they evaporated into the warmth of the dirt.

  With curiosity glimmering in her eyes, Mia turned to me and asked through Paul if I could show her something from my staff. Embarrassment suddenly crept over my cheeks as I reflected on my lack of abilities.

  At least I didn’t have to delve into my own backstory. Before I could utter a word, Mia was called away to another group and as they said their farewells, they disappeared into the bustling activity. A gnawing thought crept in, accentuating my insecurities: could I ever measure up to someone with such captivating skills?

  Later that day, Raziel made his way to Ellie’s house to start her lessons. With nothing else to do, I stayed and observed their session, hoping to find some distraction from my swirling thoughts and emotions. Maybe watching them practice would provide some clarity on what I was going to learn next, but it quickly became boring, as they seemed to be in some kind of meditative state.

  I took a piece of Ellie’s leather lace and tied it together with my lucky feather before finding a way to tie it to my staff. There was a dark gem at the top of the shaft, faceted and shiny like a midnight star, and near it was a notch with a small enough hole to loop it in.

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  Exhausting everything I could think of inside, I was growing restless. I decided to find entertainment, venturing into the village. I expected Zeekiel to stroll up to my side at any minute. Yet, to my surprise, he was nowhere to be found. From the remnants of the dilapidated trailer to Gibel’s overgrown house, the streets were absent of anyone I knew. Only Mia caught my attention, surrounded by a new group of strangers.

  As I cautiously explored my surroundings, an unsettling feeling grew deeper within me, as if I was breathing it in from the surrounding air. Everywhere I walked, the pathways would clear, and it started to feel wrong to be by myself.

  Increasingly unsettled being alone, I finally retreated inside where Ellie was still laying on the bed while Raziel sat in his trance-like state.

  I felt forced to reflect, looking at the both of them, wondering if I was truly going through with this. As I fiddled with the feather on my staff, I couldn’t help but consider if it would be easier to just walk away from all of this: reject the magic and the responsibilities that came with it. But I knew I couldn’t, not when Ellie was counting on me, and Raziel was relying on me to help end his curse.

  I wanted it; didn’t I? To find my mom and Dana, learn magic, and keep my soul attached to my body?

  To distract my mind, I retrieved my sketchbook and settled at the table, the worn wood rough under my fingertips. With the vibrant crayons Meddy had given me, I began sketching flowers and birds, losing myself in the familiar motions. As the room darkened, I found myself working more from memory, colors swirling together sloppily in a haze on the page.

  Staring at the mismatched colors, I felt a pang of frustration. Everything felt so much harder to capture now, as if my mind was too cluttered with worries to focus on blending the hues into something cohesive. I sighed, tracing the outline of Zeekiel’s raven, wishing I could lose myself in the familiar motions of my art like I used to.

  By the time the room illuminated, my black crayon was half the size it began with as I swirled it around the white paper, feeling an almost cathartic release losing myself in the dark spirals. Before I even looked up to see who had pushed on the light, an arm lined in healing pink burns reached down, resting next to me. Entranced by the spidering lines, my fingers reached out, tracing them down until I looked up at Raziel’s curious face.

  I immediately retracted my hand back, snapping back into reality, choking on my breath. “Those are new,” I said, trying to be casual while I shrank in on myself internally.

  “They come and go as I heal them. Usually clears up while you’re around,” he said as he motioned back down to point out it was already dissipating. “You must have just come in.”

  I shook my head and told him I’d been there the whole time, omitting my failed walk, looking for Zeekiel.

  “Maybe I was the one who just came in then,” he wondered, turning back to Ellie still on the bed. Spiritually, they occupied a different dimension than our physical one.

  “Is she back?” I asked.

  “She’s sleeping. Let her rest; she’s not accustomed to magic. She needs to gradually build up energy for the process to succeed,” he explained.

  I agreed and watched him pull up Ellie’s stool beside me. “Can I see?” he asked and pointed at the book.

  I bit my inner lip and slid it over. Page by page, I watched Raziel study my sketches, my stomach twisting with nerves. Even though I’d shared my art with him before, there was something vulnerable to having him scrutinize it so intently. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking, and what he saw in my drawings to study it the way he was.

  “There’s a lot of pictures of Zeekiel,” he noted with a chuckle and eyeing me before flipping into another page.

  My mouth pressed into my knuckle and shrugged. “He’s really symmetrical.”

  Wavy locks of the angel’s auburn hair shook as he bobbed his head in agreement. “He used to have a dimple in chin,” Raziel said, pointing to the spot on his face while his eyes stayed on my work. He was now further up in the sketchbook when his fingers traced over some of the colored pencils drawings I’d done at Dana’s. “Is this how you see now with your eyes?” he asked, glancing up at me.

  I hummed questionably as I peered over what he was looking at. On one page was an attempt at drawing Dana and an apple on the other. “I did those before you...before my eyes.” I gazed over at my sunglasses on the table, realizing I hadn’t been wearing them, and dug my face deeper into both my hands.

  “It’s almost like how I see,” he said. I took another glance. Of course, the colors were a lot smoother, but they were probably just better because I was more used to colored pencils. “All these different colors around things. Like the pink around Dana. I believe you may have a natural gift to see other’s level.”

  “It’s just the light,” I dismissed. “I don’t know, I see people more in, like, different art styles. Ellie fades between plain black and white to glossy colors and Zeekiel is charcoal.”

  “That’s how I see it too, just translated differently. Ellie fades in and out of color, but so do you. Zeekiel though: it’s just a dark hole.”

  “Eh, it’s more like a smudge,” I said.

  Raziel hummed with a smirk. “Then you can see him better than I can,” he replied, closing the book and sliding it back to me.

  “Honestly, I find him the easiest to read. Maybe you shouldn’t rely so much on just intentions to hear people.”

  “I suppose. It’s easier though. Others don’t always express what they actually mean. For instance, I know you’re still afraid of me.”

  A laugh blurted out awkwardly through my lips into my fists. “Your assumption is definitely wrong.”

  “Then why are you still so nervous around me, then?” he asked.

  I cleared my throat. “Um, well, I guess I’m more intimidated. I don’t know. Feels like I’m under pressure to impress you or you’d think I’m worthless to teach. Like, are you just going to teach me how to unlock the flower or are you going to actually teach me magic?”

  “Never said I wouldn’t. Here, I’ll show you,” he said and motioned for me to grab the staff. “Better on the dirt, but we can just start with how magic works. I apologize, I’m too tired to do anything more than that tonight.”

  He instructed me to balance it on the floor by the bottom crescent fork. I assumed my stance, clutching the shaft firmly as Raziel began. He talked about the balance between the intuitive and logical mind and spoke as such in both reason and similes.

  “Create with and from the world around you,” he expressed. “Magic is not an isolated force you produce, but a connection with everything around us. When you wish to conjure a flower, you must first manifest its seed, grow it from the soil of your intentions.”

  I eagerly awaited his touch on my hands, craving the connection that would bring the magic alive within me. I was aware of the pain that would accompany it, but the sheer potential of what I could have was addicting.

  But when his touch brushed against my waist, I flinched away instinctively. Heat rushed to my face as I hastily returned my hands to the wrong position before standing straighter. “Um, like this?” I stammered.

  “Exactly.” He tapped a spot over his chest. “You’ll first feel it here, like a full feeling.”

  He asked to reposition my hands, and I allowed him to proceed, not letting the awkwardness of the situation dampen my excitement for the magic I would experience.

  Raziel moved behind me, his warm breath against the nape of my neck sparked down my skin and twisted my insides. He had to know how nervous I felt.

  “From there, you will learn to understand the source and bring it into reality. Any opposition must be assessed to rectify your intent. Opening the source lends clarity to make the necessary changes.”

  The dryness in my mouth made it difficult to speak at first. “W-what if I don’t want to change what I want to do?”

  Raziel’s response was prompt. “You have to accept that your challenges are meant to be faced with the circumstances you’re given. Magic can’t break reality.”

  He gently lifted my chin, meeting my gaze head-on. Awe surged through me, captivated by his presence. “Deviations become corrupted. They are things not meant to be, and consequences are severe in the form of many curses. You don’t want to experience it.”

  As I told him I understood, his eyes shifted down at my staff. His hand reached out and cradled my makeshift adornment of his feather into his palm. “That’s an interesting piece of magic you made.”

  “Magic?” I questioned as he let the feather go.

  “It’s like a magical charm. See? You can do it; it’s really not difficult.”

  I looked at the dangling feather. “Me?”

  “It’s not as advanced as your necklace, but I can see the enchantment. At this level, they’re keepsakes that hold things like memories, goals or affirmations. It’s still impressive,” he said. “I admire your ability to make things beautiful. You even make black etchings on paper shimmer with magic.”

  His statement sent a jolt of pride through me that blushed my cheeks. “Thank you.”

  “I should go now. We’ll have more time tomorrow, and I’ll make you some notes.”

  I gripped my staff and strained from the resistance. The forked crescent at the bottom was jammed into a crack on the floor. A gentle touch interrupted my struggle when Raziel’s long fingers coiled around the wood and, with ease, it broke free. As it emerged from its hold, the top of the staff erupted in light, casting the mirrored glow of the waxing moon outside.

  He let go, and the darkness grew back around us. “Get some rest,” he suggested.

  I watched as he left, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the pulsating energy emanating from my staff. It felt warm, and I could smell the perfumed scent of its ghostly flowers that reminded me of my mom. There was a moment of security until the wood ran cold against my palms. A deep longing for magic stirred within my chest.

  Next Chapter Saturday 4/26

  ((Sorry for last week! Cooking, cleaning and preparing an egg hunt took me out last week. But we are now back on schedule!))