Eclipse: the Beginning

“What have you done with him, you shadow?! Where is my son?! What have you done to him?!”

Palms slapped and nails scratched at Samuel’s arms. Everything was dark; he could see nothing. He was on his back, and his attacker was sitting on top of him. From the smaller frame, his assailant must have been a woman. The screaming voice supported the theory. His chest burned, a wet burn, tingling as the numb set in. He could not find his voice to answer the demands, so the desperate screams continued.

“Where is he?!”

The young man awoke from his daze. The ringing in his ears faded at last, and he glanced about at his surroundings. Celestial sat in the windowsill to his left. This room was different. Where was he?

“Awake, are you?”

“Celestial … where am I?” The Nomad rolled onto his side in the large bed. He glanced about the room as he sat upright. It had stone walls like the tower Raphael and Seraph entered. It looked like the other chamber, but there were no decorations or elaborate furnishing. In fact, it looked as if no one used it. “What happened?”

“What are you, Samuel Watson?”

“I don’t understand what you’re asking me,” Samuel frowned at her question, rubbing his shoulder. The familiar angst of home returned to him. The bullies, the stares, the whispers, they had all made him so small, pathetic, unwanted. He watched her, feeling anxious. Her guard was high, so the anxiety might have been from her. Had he upset her? Did he instill tension and distrust because he was different? People feared what they did not understand.

“What are you?” she spoke sternly, “You fall from the sky, unharmed, yet no one seems to notice. You feel others emotions as your own, but you neglect to inform your guardians. You’re becoming more of a liability by the day.”

“What do you want me to say?” Samuel sat, staring at his hands. His metallic gaze glazed over, numb. How could he answer that? He was an intellectual in a land of magic and myth. He was trying to learn how things functioned here. This empathy ability was a recent development that he did not understand. How she knew about it already was unsettling. He was so far outside his own logic that he was barely taking in everything around him. Why was she barking at him?

“I want to know what I’m dealing with here!”

Samuel gasped. Just then, he had felt fear rise in his chest, but it faded just when Celestial finished yelling. He blinked in surprise, stroking the blanket beneath him for comfort. She was afraid. He should have guessed she would be, eventually. Seraph’s new power and physical contrast were strange to her, even in Aurora. Now, he was changing, so she felt left in the dark. She feared the Darkness.

“I’m sorry.” A sad smile grew on his face.

“Why are you sorry?” The familiar growl seemed different.

“I don’t know how to answer your questions.” He continued to stare downward, not wanting to meet her eyes. “Back home, I was just an above-average seventeen-year-old with a head for politics. Human is what I’m called on Earth. I didn’t have powers, and I probably would have lived an average eighty-eight years. Here … this world is changing me. It’s been unnerving, and I don’t know how to explain it to you or Seraph.”

“Then you … are not a sage?”

“A what?” Samuel looked up to see Celestial’s matching expression of confusion. It was his turn to be irked. “What in the queen’s name are you blundering on about?”

“Queen?” the soldier sighed, realizing she had assumed the worst. Samuel’s ignorance made sense. The nonsense he blabbered had to come from another world. Still, was it possible that Aurora was changing him? He was a helpless whelp. If he were to bring the prophecy to fruition, he would need some supplementation.

“Never mind. The Wind said you were some kind of sage. I suppose we need to ask what he meant.”

“We?” The young man blinked innocently. “We, as in, we’re a team?”

“Don’t jump off the tower just yet,” she narrowed her white eyes as she replied. He nodded with a smile. This was progress in his mind.

“Where’s Seraph?” Samuel asked. He thought the Wind would insist on watching him. Why was he not with them?

“He ran off somewhere,” the Light yawned – it was the boredom kind. “His mentor went to find him after he put you to bed.”

“Why did he leave? Did something happen?”

“You don’t remember what occurred when he touched you?”

His silver eyes gaped back at the empty ones. He remembered now. Someone was screaming, a woman. The words pierced him like arrows. He recalled Seraph’s words. They sounded similar to the screams. He jumped off the bed, running for the stairs. Celestial ran after him, but he had too much of a head start on her to catch him quickly.

“Where are you going? Samuel, answer me!”

“To find my friend!”

“You don’t even know where to look!” She nearly caught up to him, reaching out a hand to grasp his shoulder.

“Of course I do!” Samuel paused, stopping in his tracks. Celestial cried out as she ran past him, falling into a bush. “Master Raphael?”

“Nomad child,” Raphael replied sadly. He had obviously been unsuccessful in finding Seraph. The sadness swelled in Samuel’s chest, making his grasp his clothes. He needed to get a handle on this new ability.

“Master Raphael, I know where Seraph is.”

Raphael gaped at him. Hope sparked at last.

“Can you lead us to the Ancient Forest? I know he’s there.”

“The forest?” the servant gasped, covering his mouth with his fist. “How could I forget the forest? He always ran to those trees as a boy. It made his mother worry. I will take you there.”

“You could have said so from the beginning, whelp!” Celestial growled from behind the youth, making him coil away from her glowing eyes.

The trio rushed for the Ancient Forest. In daylight, Celestial and Samuel were grateful for their guide. Details blended together in the grassy mountains and pathways. It had a mysterious charm though. Samuel wished he could photograph the scenery. Once they reached the boundary of the trees, Raphael stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Celestial asked, huffing from carrying the Nomad. The youth was not in the same physical condition as the seasoned soldiers, so he had fallen behind them in the labyrinth. She had thrown him over her shoulder when he called out around the seventh time.

“How can we find him among the trees? It is too vast. We will never find him before dark.”

“They can guide us.” The two Aurorans stared at the Nomad who was craning his head to look around the soldier’s loose hair. “The trees will show us the way. Just ask,” he smiled.

“Ask the trees?” Celestial’s doubt was obvious. “What will they say? A riddle?”

“No, the child is correct,” Raphael replied, “but these ancient trees do not answer to all. Only those with pure spirits can commune with them. Seraph has always been pure.”

“Not really,” Samuel said as Celestial set him down. “You just give them the respect they want. They are our elders. Though they cannot leave their trunks, there’s still a spirit within, correct?” Raphael blinked back at him, following the line of logic. “They simply wish for a bond with us. Try, Master Raphael.”

Raphael glanced at the Light soldier shaking her head, denying she knew the youth. The Wind looked into the silver gaze. It was calming. He was unsure how Samuel could simplify such mysteries, but he could see why Seraph grieved the thought of wounding him. He was unique in Aurora.

“What was your name, Nomad?”

“Samuel.” He left it at that, since he knew how confusing surnames were in this world.

“Samuel … how fitting it is that you come to this country,” Raphael said with a smile. “I shall try.”

In the forest, Seraph sat at the foot of a tree. He finally stopped crying, sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees. The young god stared ahead at nothing, motionless. His mind was empty. The Wind might as well have taken root and grown into a tree in his forest.

Before going blank, his mind had been on the day of his mother’s death. He still hated himself. It was his fault. Raphael and his family could not make him a real man. He was not her son anymore. He was a monster, a freak. His mother’s feelings were not something he could just forget.

The Wind blinked sluggishly at the sound of his name. Whose voice was that? How could anyone find him out here? It echoed again, but a second caller was heard. What did that mean? Was he dreaming? A third voice called now. They were getting close. His eyelids lifted to see who had come searching for him.

“Seraph! We’ve found him!” Samuel ran over to embrace his friend. “I told you the trees would guide us, didn’t I? He’s safe and sound.”

“I do not believe my eyes,” Raphael said, dumbfounded. Falling to his knees before Seraph, he too wrapped his arms around the Wind. “Young master, I am relieved to see you are well.”

“Run off again and assume that I will hunt you like a bird does its prey.” Celestial said with a stern expression. Was she worried?

“Celestial? Raphael? Samuel? Why are you here?” Seraph asked, bewildered by their concern. The Wind could not fathom why they would follow him. He had injured his closest friend and ran like a coward. Why would they search for him?

“Because we care, Seraph,” Samuel smiled as he replied.

“But … I hurt you, Samuel.” Seraph’s eyes glazed over in regret, making a pit grow in Samuel’s chest. “Don’t you hate me?”

“Why should he?” Raphael asked. “It was an accident. Neither of you knew it would happen. There is no need to place blame. Your mother did not hate you either, Seraph. She loved you to the end.”

“Did she?” Seraph gaped back up at his mentor. “Why? Why did she kill herself if she did? Wasn’t she punishing me?”

Celestial gaped in disbelief at the revelation. Samuel’s arms slumped as his gaze dropped, saddened and stunned. Raphael shook his head. Seraph’s breath stopped in his lungs as his grief returned.

“Seraph … what do you recall from that day?” Raphael spoke cautiously. It was a delicate topic for them both. The immortal could understand why Seraph shouldered his guilt, but it was not a burden he needed to carry. For the sake of his mother, his mentor needed to set things right.

“Everything,” Seraph answered, lowering his head. The shame was clear to them from his body language. Samuel squeezed one of the large hands. The Wind god gaped at the touch as if a warm blanket draped over his shoulders. It made tears fall from his eyes. He felt safe. He looked up at Samuel’s smile.

“Start from the beginning, mate,” the teenager said. He sensed the dread and sorrow fading away. That was a good sign. He kept smiling, hoping it was the cause.

“The beginning …” Seraph’s face became solemn, pulling up those old memories. The Wind wondered if things would change between Samuel, Celestial, and himself. He remembered Grandmother Wingie’s saying his disguise would not last. Coiling tighter in Raphael’s embrace, he would just have to trust them.

“It was just before the midday meal,” Seraph began. “Back then, I was trying to hide my chest by wrapping a cloth around it. It wasn’t comfortable, but it helped when … they were getting larger. I wore loose wraps to make up for the growth. Martha was carrying a pot of soup to the dining hall. She was pregnant with Yamin, and she was definitely showing. I offered to carry the large pot for her, and she thanked me, since her strength was going to her belly. It was a good thing I did. Some of the children were running in the hall, playing. Mother was scolding them like usual, but they didn’t see me in time to avoid the crash.

“Mother panicked when the hot soup poured over my chest. I remember falling, but the burns hurt worse than my hind. She ran up, pulling at my wraps to get them off. I tried to stop her, to calm her, but she looked like I would die if she didn’t. That was when she saw my chest. I wasn’t this large yet, but still, boys don’t have breasts. She froze, only for a moment, before she hit me. Martha tried to grab her arms, but she just kept screaming that I wasn’t her son and demanded to know what I had done with him.

“That was when you came, Raphael, and you pulled her back. You knew about my condition all along, and you calmed her fit. She was quiet for a while. Everyone was staring at her. Then, she tore away from you, crying. When I found the courage to go to the tower, I found her in her room … with the knife in her chest. The blankets were bloodied … where she’d fallen, and you were kneeling beside the bed, crying ….” The young Wind’s emotions stirred up again. He stopped, holding in tears.

“I see your memory is sound,” Raphael said, choking on his words at the memory. “There was something important you did not witness, Seraph. It was the reason for my tears.”

“What was that?” Samuel asked for his friend. He shared Seraph’s grief and knew he would not be speaking for a while. The youth sensed he would ask if he had the voice.

“Her dying words,” Celestial’s voice was empty. The recollection made her think of her own parents. She lacked the nerve to make any cruel remarks. Seraph was suffering enough.

“They were loving and heartbreaking,” the older Wind confirmed. “I am sure your father would have wept wherever he was that day. Miriam had fled to her chambers. It was the room she had shared with Seraph’s father. I arrived to find her sitting on their bed, holding that knife. She said she had no right to be your mother. She never had, but you were her last connection to your father; thus, she treasured you. In her haste, she had wounded not only your body but your spirit. As a parent, she could not live with herself, for in her mind, you would never forget the day your mother rejected you. I could not stop her from punishing herself, but I promised her that no one would reject you in your home as long as I lived.”

“She … she didn’t … hate me …?”

Seraph’s voice cracked as he wept. All those years, he had hated his body for not being normal. He had feared his true self, hiding behind a now broken disguise. He blamed himself for the death of his mother, for being something she could not love. Perhaps it had held him back from finding his father, having to tell him the truth. Now, it turned out that he had assumed everything in error.

“Why did she see herself as unworthy of being his mother, Master Raphael?” Samuel knew this was a difficult moment for the Winds, but he thought the answer needed to be said, to be heard. The sorrow in Seraph’s spirit was not of healing. He was still attacking himself.

“Miriam had always known Seraph was as noble as his father before him, but being mortal, she considered herself below them both, unable to stand at their side as an equal.” The former soldier released his student. He sat on his heels, closing his eyes to envision the woman who tried harder than she ever needed to.

“When she realized what she had done to you, Seraph, she feared that one day you would grow to despise her, completely rejecting her. As the mother of a taboo god, she knew you would grow beyond her ability to support. It was a difficult burden to bear, and that is why she accepted paying with her life as the only penance she could offer you. As strange as this may sound, she worshipped you, Seraph.”

“That is why the child of a mortal and a god is called taboo,” Celestial said solemnly. “The god and child will live on, but the mortal parent will die too soon for them both. To watch someone you love wither away while you remain young is thought to be a cruel fate. Though the union is not forbidden, the name serves a warning against the grief to come.”

As Seraph calmed, Samuel reflected on Raphael and Celestial’s words. Was it that cruel a fate to give life to a god? Had the Virgin Mary felt burdened by such a distance? The idea rolled around his thoughts as he realized how lonely it must be, feeling so small beside your own child. Seraph must have thought the same thing. His restless spirit was calming.

“I wish she hadn’t felt that way,” the young Wind mumbled. “I could never hate her. She was all I had of Father, and she was a wonderful mother.” A smile crept upon his lips, sad but not sorrowful. “Knowing the truth, I understand, a little … but I still wish she hadn’t left us. Forgive me, Mother.”

“Enough apologizing,” Celestial finally let out her harsher tone. Everyone glanced up at her. “A mother is always taken for granted, but they don’t take it to heart. Your mother gave you everything she could as much as any mortal can do for a god. Don’t belittle her feelings by blaming yourself for her choice. As foolish a decision it was, she did it out of … love for you. Accept it and live.”

“Celestial …” Seraph gaped up at her. She turned away, irritated by the sentimental emotions floating around the forest. He smiled shyly. “Thank you. I will.”

“Good,” she said curtly.

“Let’s head back,” the young Wind said calmly. “It should be time for the midday meal soon.”

As they stood to leave, Samuel touched the former general’s forearm. He paused, letting Seraph and Celestial get ahead of them. Raphael turned to see what the youth wanted.

“Yes, Master Samuel?”

“You loved her, didn’t you?”

The two stared at one another. It was evident to the Wind that Samuel wanted privacy for this answer. The immortal gaped. The boldness of this Nomad child never ceased to amaze him. His insight was beyond his years, yet he did not appear to be more than mortal. How curious. He could see how he was tied to the Restoration Prophecy. It would need someone of this nature at its core.

“You must be a Spirit Sage, young one,” Raphael replied. “Your eyes see beyond flesh to the core of one’s being. I am honored to have crossed your path.”

“Why don’t you tell him?” Samuel sounded so sad. He was unsure if it was his own or the Wind’s emotions. He just knew deep within his chest he felt sadness for Seraph. “I’m positive it could only bring you closer together and heal you both.”

“I cannot do that.”

“But why?”

“I love Seraph as if he were my own,” Raphael replied as he knelt to one knee. “In recent years, I have grown to something far more than mentor in his eyes. My wish has always been that he long for his true father. If he were to know of my love for Miriam, he would settle for me, and my master’s fate could be lost forever. As the last Wind god left in Aurora, Seraph is the only one who can locate him. I beseech your patience to help him in that quest, young sage.”

“You needn’t bow, Master Raphael. It is I that beg your patience to help me.” Samuel knelt. He took Raphael’s hands in his, clasping them together as one would in prayer. “I am a wayward Nomad with nothing to my name, yet I have a task to save this world. Please lend me your wisdom, for I am leading my friends blindly.”

Raphael sensed a strange sensation come over him. An understanding between them that could not be expressed in words. Raphael’s head tugged as if he were trying to remember something important. Within Samuel’s silver irises, the Wind understood this must be the power of the Spirit Sages at work. How powerful would this lost youth become?

“I will give you all the aid I can, young sage.”

“Thank you. I promise that Seraph will never be robbed of his original goal. I wouldn’t do that to my first, true friend.”

A tear streaked down Raphael’s face at the expression on the young Nomad’s face.

“Is something wrong, Master Raphael?”

“Thank you.” Hearing someone speak of his young master so kindly moved the immortal to tears. “And thank the goddess for you.” They both smiled at one another before running to catch up to the others.