Fowlhunter [GL]

More nights passed over snacks, elephant chess, and other games. And yes—utilising all the talent and finesse expected of the Golden Rose—Ennanis did bring Chime her cider.

As time went on, Chime gradually revealed more about herself. It came in slow drips, but slowly, the details built up, painting a picture of the girl she’d been before she had come to this prison cell.

Chime had been born the youngest of a family of farmers in a village in Fenlin. She grew up among fruit orchards and animal pens, learning early on the ins and outs of cultivating the land, but, as she’d mentioned, she had always had a knack for handling the livestock. Chime had many anecdotes to share about this, about impertinent cattle, the intricacies of pig-feeding, adorable shepherd dogs.

One day, Chime told a story about a girl named Lark.

“It’s a funny story!” she would grin and wave her hand. “No, really.”

Once upon a time, there was a family of farmers. A loving couple had six children, all grew up strong and sturdy. They were poor but managed to make ends meet, living happily enough.

Only, one day, during a period of hardship for the farm, the mother birthed a seventh child, named Lark. Lark had the unusual-coloured eyes of a sunblood, unlike anyone else in the family.

Lark’s father suspected the obvious. But Lark’s mother pointed out that their new daughter could be useful. After all, sunbloodedness was a mark of nobility. Sunbloods—being part-angel—were supposed to be capable of incredible feats, carrying the power of immortals in their veins.

Only that, as Lark grew up, she turned out to be weak. Firstly, her Soleki powers were very poor, hardly of any use. Secondly, she fell sick very often, her body wracked by debilitating pain. It was all too soon, she was pretty much always sick, barely able to make it to school and back on her best days, unable to rise from her bed on her worst ones. Much later, she dropped out of school entirely and was just given simple chores around the farm, like watching and feeding animals.

Needless to say, the sunblooded daughter turned out to be an even bigger disappointment than her ordinary siblings. Regardless, Lark’s parents had raised her the best they could.

Until one day, everyone on the farm fell sick. No, not just the farm; everyone in the village had fallen to a plague. Investigations soon pointed to poisoning of the village well. This was around the time of a big festival, so water had been used voraciously: in food preparation, in dishwashing, baths and so on. Where spirits had been high, now they had been thoroughly drenched. The poisoning was severe, incapacitating most for weeks. They were furious; keen as anything to find the one responsible.

Fingers began to point towards the one person mysteriously unaffected by the poisoning. This was none other than Lark—who had been frail as usual but didn’t suffer the same symptoms as the villagers. In fact, she had been well enough to take care of her family when they were sick. Lark, who had been supposedly in bed for all of the festival with no one to watch her, had no alibi.

Eleven-year-old Lark didn’t understand why she had been spared. She too had drank water, and washed herself in the evening. Lark had suspected that the real culprit had given her the antidote to frame her as suspicious. But she could not explain this. Why her? And who else but her? It was too difficult to believe in her word. And the people needed somebody to blame. They came up with all the reasons they needed. That Lark was insecure and jealous of the good health of those around her, and her suddenly being able to stand up and care for her ill family was proof of her guilty conscience. And Lark had long been suspected to be a devil’s spawn, a deadweight sent to curse her family.

The story ended there. After Chime told this story, Ennanis stepped inside the cell and sat beside her, listening quietly. These days she borrowed the guard’s keyring more often. Usually they had those keys to clear the corpses in the prisons. The sun didn’t keep them infinitely alive; when they eventually died, they were brought for cremation. Now, she also used them to enter Chime’s cell, and she would sit there and accompany the girl for as long as they would not get caught.

At the time, neither of them may have wanted to call themselves friends, but you could not deny this: they did grow closer day by day.

One day, Ennanis said to her, “Chime. Let me try something.”

“Huh?” Chime glanced at her. Her eyes were grey, but sometimes, when the lanternlight hit them just right, an unnatural twinkle skipped off them. Now, they reflected the growing beam of Soleki within Ennanis’ palm.

Eyes widened.

Ennanis pinched her fingers together, concentrating the fiery light in her palm. “You know what a communication charm is?”

Chime stared at the beam buzzing in the angel’s palm. “...A little. I learnt about it at school. But I could never do one on my own. You really shouldn’t-”

“-It’s alright,” Ennanis said. Carrying the beam of Soleki in her hand, the angel crawled on her knees over to where Chime was sitting back-to-the wall. Sweeping her rose ponytail over her shoulder, she slotted herself between Chime’s legs.

Trapped between the angel and the wall behind her, Chime’s shoulders went high, her eyes wide in fluster. “W-what are you doing?” Her voice came out as a squeak.

“Easy,” Ennanis coaxed. She brought her hand between them, hues of the sun glinting off the surface of her armbrace. She reached out for Chime’s face with glowing fingers. Chime was hesitant at first, tilting her head away on instinct, but eventually, breathing shallowly, she bowed her head forward again, allowing her to caress her cheek. Fingers brushed over mottled skin, tracing the corner of her lips. Shortly after, the girl felt a tingling warmth at the edge of her mind.

“Okay. Now, accept it,” Ennanis said.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Chime reached out with every ounce of the little Soleki her body possessed. Only that, it wasn’t hard at all. There was no pain, no struggle. It was as easy as releasing a breath. The turn of a doorknob. When she opened her eyes again, the sunlight had faded from Ennanis’ palm, but she felt warm all over.

“Done,” Ennanis said, leaning back on her knees.

Body trembling slightly, Chime put her hand on the wall behind and pushed herself upright. “Was all that necessary?” she demanded, face pink with indignance.

The teenage angel broke out into a mischievous smirk.

“No.”

It might’ve been the warmth from the communication charm, but Chime’s face flushed pink.

“You’re-” Chime folded her arms, but in an uncharacteristic turn of events seemed to be having trouble forming words. “You. You’re such, an annoying, jerk. What even was the point of this charm? Don’t we already talk every night?”

“Well,” Ennanis’ eyes fell on the girl’s bruise-littered arms. “It’s so that… should you ever find yourself in danger, should anyone hurt you, should you ever need help—you can call for me.”

She reached forward again, clasping Chime’s pale, cracked hands in hers, warm as the sun.

“No matter where you are… I’ll find you. It’s a promise.”

“I…” Chime said, throat dry as she stared down at their hands. The angel didn’t notice it, but for a split second, something like guilt flickered between her ashen eyes. “I see.”

~~~

Time rolled around, and soon it was time for Ennanis to have a chat with the senior Warden. She prepared well beforehand, as she had more than a few questions to ask. In the morning of, she raked hair conditioning oil through her ponytail, making her hair sleek and smooth, and put on a freshly-ironed set of her white uniform, gold sash. She tied her gold Commander's ribbon in a careful knot. She had debated getting chocolates too, but ultimately decided it was overkill. If she was going to stoop to her superiors’ boots, then she would at least try to be subtle about it.

Slipping on both her armbraces, she left for the summit of Mount Casca. She was every inch the image of a perfect angel peacekeeper, the image the Golden Rose had long built for herself.

Yet, things were definitely different now. Wherever Ennanis flew—from the lower south face, soaring over wooden bridges, to the west face of paired-wings, cruising over their ivory stone terraces—angels waved and smiled at her. When Ennanis saw them, she breathed out serenely, a light feeling in her chest. And she flew onward.

In moments, the eastern sun burned magnificently before her, the Command Centre veiled within the mouth of its flames. With a flutter, she landed on the steps, folded her wings primly, and walked through the doors.

The clerk at the counter was a familiar face. Augustus Zoleil, a large man with an easygoing smile. Of course, as the name suggested, a former disciple of Amanita Zoleil.

“Ah, Ennanis! You have an appointment today?” Augustus gave a broad grin when he saw the young rose-haired angel. He had been working the counter of the Command Centre for a while now, and Ennanis ran into him whenever she showed up here for Warden meetings. Of course, having their mentor in common, he had immediately struck up conversation with her. Ennanis learnt that he was doing this admin job as part of a mandatory service. Even though he had already stopped that landslide in Kanch, earning his place in Paradise, there were still criteria he had to fulfill before he could properly pass on. He complained about this to her periodically, but he was a properly personable angel, and did his job well.

“Hey,” Ennanis gave a smaller smile of her own. “Yeah, I do.” She gave the name of the senior Warden, and Augustus began to write her in. Over the stroking noises of the writing brush, she propped her elbows on the counter and asked, “Any news on Amanita?”

Augustus glanced up momentarily from the scroll, and shook his head in apology. “Sorry, man. Like I said, I haven’t seen her since I graduated from the ranks. I tried asking some others, but they didn’t know either. She could be in Paradise already, but I still can’t enter to check for myself.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks for trying,” Ennanis said. Would Amanita really have gone to Paradise without a word of goodbye? Ennanis didn’t want to believe her mentor would do such a thing, but the only other alternative was that…

Amanita had disappeared when Ennanis was sixteen. Now, three years had passed. The initial panic and obsessive searching had fuzzed away, replaced by an emptiness that lurked below the surface of her everyday thoughts. She still put in the occasional attempt to find her, but it was half-hearted; three years was a long time to hold onto hope for.

Ennanis was not someone who liked to lie to herself. Amanita could well be dead. The Graveyard Division was not so named by exaggeration. But she just wished she could have a confirmation, instead of just wondering on and on like this.

She wondered if Augustus—or anyone else she knew—knew that Mount Casca’s beloved Amanita had been working with the greybelts. She suspected not. But Ennanis didn’t dare say it aloud, for fear it would sully her mentor's good name. Not when that good name might be all that was left of her.

All that Ennanis could do was try her best to remember the outline of Amanita’s smile, and fulfill her last wish: for her to make cherished friends.

Remembering that, Ennanis bade Augustus goodbye and headed for her business. Just then, right as she turned toward the office corridor, she saw a flash of light-green dart at the corner of her eye.

She paused. “Kikko?...”

But the girl she thought she’d seen, with her head bowed and hands anxiously clutching a letter, was gone. She’d disappeared through the engraved door right at the very end. The door to the Chief Marshal’s office.

An unpleasant feeling swilled in the pit of Ennanis’ stomach. But before she could contemplate further, the door in front of her opened.