David Dalglish: The Prison of Angels

“Your power still wanes?” Qurrah asked, trying to prevent a conversation he had no patience for.

“It does,” Azariah said, walking toward their cabin. “It is strange, for I cannot decipher the reason. Not all of our kind suffer like I. The warriors and enforcers still retain their abilities, limited as they are. We can still calm troubled minds and sense truth from lie, but more and more our priests struggle to have our prayers answered. It is a humbling thing, Qurrah, to go from the mightiest priest of our lord to a mere winged man who even the lowliest scoundrel could pierce with his sword.”

“Humility in an angel?” Qurrah said, smiling at Azariah. “And to think you act like the age of miracles has passed.”

“It is with humility I can accept the coming changes and prepare for them. My priestly spells vanish. Perhaps it is our descent to this world, our proximity to its sin and corruption. Perhaps Ashhur slumbers, or Celestia’s control over him has increased in response to the war that sundered her land. None of these things can I change.”

He opened the door to their cabin, holding it so the two might enter first. Tessanna took Qurrah’s arm, hovering close beside him as if she were afraid. Normally Qurrah would think it an act, but there was never any knowing with Tessanna. Her mind, while worlds better than when he first met her, was still a fragile thing, and rarely predictable.

Inside the cabin was their bed, a small table, and a dormant fireplace. It wasn’t much, especially compared to the splendor his brother now lived in, but it was theirs. Given how he and Tessanna had nearly destroyed all of Dezrel, it felt like luxury enough.

“How fares my brother?” he asked as he thought of Harruq. He sat in a chair beside the table, and Tessanna sat next to him, her head leaning against his shoulder.

“I will speak of him soon enough,” Azariah said, flashing an indecipherable smile. “He is the reason I came, but I would first make a request before I lose my courage. I cannot change the loss of my power, but I can adapt. I can embrace this new world we are to rule. Qurrah…can you share with me your knowledge of the arcane arts?”

It took a moment before Qurrah could compose his thoughts.

“You want me…to teach you?”

“Is it so strange?” Azariah asked. “My hands were not meant to hold a blade. Tell me, could you take up your brother’s swords with any degree of skill?”

“Well, no.”

“Then why should others expect the same of me? I once wielded great power. I would do so again.”

“He would be the perfect pupil,” Tessanna whispered into his ear. “He is an angel, after all.”

Her giggle showed her true opinion on the matter, however.

“There must be better teachers than I,” Qurrah said. “What about Tarlak? He even lives in Mordeina.”

“He travels with King Antonil on their campaign to retake the east, and I cannot afford to be away for such a lengthy time.”

Qurrah’s brain scrambled for other alternatives.

“The Council of Mages,” he said. “What of them?”

Azariah shook his head.

“If you think Ker carries a distrust of my kind, you should hear the opinions of the Council. No, they will not teach me. Neither will the elves, for those who still bear the gift of magic in their blood are closely guarded, and are not prone to sharing.”

“Not all of them,” Qurrah insisted. “I’m sure Aurelia would be willing to-”

“You must understand something,” Azariah interrupted. “I hold a position of great respect. Should mortals hear of my training, I would be mocked, or doubted. There are many of my own kind who distrust the learning of magical spellcasting, even a few who would declare it blasphemous. That you are here, acting the recluse, helps put my mind at ease concerning this matter.”

“I could teach you,” Tessanna said.

“Wait a moment,” Qurrah said. “Wait…”

“From what I know of you, I fear I would not be an appropriate student,” Azariah said. “Magic comes to you easily, and its very nature is unpredictable. But I will accept…should your husband have no objections.”

Their eyes turned on Qurrah, and he felt like a caged animal. Tessanna’s fingers played with the neckline of his shirt, and the tension in her shoulders told him she feared his rejection. Letting out a sigh, he kissed the top of her head.

“We will both teach you as best we can,” he said. “Though I fear you will have a lengthy flight between every lesson.”

“Perhaps not,” Azariah said. “But speaking of lengthy flights, do you have something I might drink?”

Tessanna retrieved a wood-carved cup from a cupboard, filled it with water from a pitcher, and then dipped her finger inside.

“Wine,” she said, handing it over. “Don’t worry, it is very weak.”

“Many thanks,” Azariah said. Putting the cup to his lips, he drank until it was gone. “Much better,” he said, setting it down. “Now, about your brother, and our training. I’ve come to ask you to return to Mordeina. You don’t need to live next to him if you would prefer some separation, but I think it would be helpful to have you two nearby in case something goes wrong.”

“Is Aubrienna in danger?” Tessanna asked. A bit of life leapt into her wide gaze.

“I do not know,” Azariah said. “And it pains me greatly to admit even that. The shadow of Avlimar should be a safe place, but Mordeina still bears many sinful hearts.”

“But why?” Qurrah asked. “What has he done to earn himself enemies?”

The feathers in Azariah’s wings ruffled.

“Antonil appointed Harruq steward over the kingdom in his absence,” the angel said with a sigh. “The king is not beloved, and those scheming against him will turn those schemes upon your brother. I fear his life will soon be in danger.”

Before Qurrah knew it, Tessanna’s hand had slipped into his. He squeezed it tight, then met Azariah’s green eyes with his own.

“We will need time to decide,” he said.

“And time you will have,” Azariah said, pushing back open the door to their cabin. “I’ll be flying northeast to meet with the paladins, though I won’t be staying long. When my business with them concludes, I will return here for your answer.”

Qurrah nodded, but he did not stand for the angel’s exit. Another dip of his head in respect, and then Azariah left the cabin. With a heavy gust of air the angel soared skyward, leaving them once more alone in their cabin. The tranquility they’d had before, though, was shattered. Qurrah said nothing, only sat at the table frowning as he tried to make sense of his jumbled thoughts. Knowing his brother might be in danger brought out the strong instinct in him to go to his aid, but things were just not that simple.

When the great betrayer of Veldaren traveled somewhere, he did not go unnoticed.

“You want to go, don’t you?” Tessanna asked him as she stood from the table. “But you’re also afraid.”

“I am.”

Tessanna stood before their bed and crossed her arms over her chest. She glanced over her shoulder, let her hair fall over her face.

“Would you like to have me?” she asked. “Help clear your mind?”

He rubbed his eyes, then blinked as she tossed off her dress.

“Sure,” he said. “Why not.”

It did indeed help clear his mind. Afterward they lay naked together, the light of the cabin dwindling as the sun descended below the tree line. Tessanna’s hands traced unseen runes across his chest, her eyes staring into nowhere.

“If you want to go, we should go,” she said.

“If that oaf’s a steward, then all of Mordan balances on a precarious peace,” he said. “Our arrival might do more harm than good.”