The Dark Trinity: Talan's Story

Chapter 6

"I hope I haven't kept you," Laeyelle said to Bryaen, who was standing in the waiting room studying the empty flower vase sitting on a small table that was against the wall. She handed him a large sack.

"Nothing to worry about," Bryaen said with a smile, taking the sack. "I promised to accompany you on this outing and a little waiting is just a small part of it."

"Then let's be on our way."

Talan waited for Laeyelle and Bryaen to step out of the House before following. Laeyelle decided they would fly and unfurled her brilliant wings. Bryaen followed suit while Talan waited until they both had their backs turned, getting ready to launch themselves into the air, before sprouting hers. If either of them noticed her slight delay, they didn't comment.

The air had a slight breeze but the warm sun offset any uncomfortable coolness as they flew in the direction of the pond. Laeyelle and Bryaen continued their constant stream of chatter while Talan followed dutifully behind. She studied the layout of Aerie below her, which was patterned in a fractal sort of way. The greater Houses had larger trees as their dwellings, which also included an area of foliage to separate them from the lesser Houses, the working castes, and public areas. These became respectively smaller. Towards what could be considered the center of Aerie were the public structures that served as the meeting halls for the various commitees. These were the largest of all. Talan was sure there was some twisted logic behind the organization of Aerie and she puzzled through this as they flew southeast.

They approached Aerie's Wall, which was occupied by the military ranks in their blue uniforms. The Wall, much like other angelic structures, was really magically grown trees except there were no leaves, only thick, solid wood. Soldiers patrolled in the air, on top of the Wall, within the wall, and on the ground. Talan was reminded of an undisturbed hive of bees, every worker going about his or her business.

"Halt!" a sentinel called from above. Then a belated, "Bryaen is that you?"

"It is, my friend," Bryaen called back as the three of them hovered, squinting against the sun as the sentinel approached them, his golden spear catching the light of the sun and reflecting it back at them. Talan thought this was an interesting tactic and fairly certain it was a deliberate action on the sentinel's part. "I'm just escorting Lady Laeyelle to the pond this afternoon."

The other sentinel arrived, looked from Laeyelle to Bryaen and back. "No word of the guards down there of any suspicious activity, but take care nonetheless. The demons would be glad to get their hands on a Seraphim such as yourself."

Laeyelle smiled, but didn't say anything and seemed unsure whether that was a compliment or simple fact.

"Don't worry, I will be 'on duty' and make sure she arrives safely back home tonight," Bryaen reassured his friend. "We just had an attack yesterday and it seems not well enough into the fall season for their routine to pick up just yet. Today is the best of any to go beyond the walls, if you ask me."

The sentinel looked as if he were about to say more, but set his mouth and waved them on. Just beyond the angel-grown Wall was a natural wall of redwood trees. These trees grew normally, yet were so old that it required several angels with their hands outstretched and fingertips just touching to encircle their trunks. The natural sentries were almost revered by the angels that they had adorned the trunks with with strings of beads, seeds, nuts, feathers, and other oddments. The branches above served as an informal rite of passage among the fledglings who thought they had sufficiently gained control over their barely flight-capable wings.

Talan, Laeyelle, and Bryaen flew through the branches, rather than drop down to the forest floor to take this year's path or fly above the canopy. Talan had only been through the branches once a year ago and had found it an interesting maze. She had heard stories of the fledglings teaching the brightly colored birds that the human traders brought to mark a path through the branches, then the fledglings would race each other through tight corners and narrow clearances between branches for bragging rights.

Talan wondered if Laeyelle was going slow for her sake. She sensed that Bryaen wanted to show off his flying in hopes of impressing Laeyelle, but was restraining himself and attempting to be patient. Or, perhaps, because they were beyond their fledgling years, they were trying to act more like adults and less like unrestrained children.

"Given I am holding a sack," Bryaen said, seeking to distract himself from wanting to show off his physical prowess, "I'm expecting I'll be gathering something. Will you indulge me and tell me just what I am looking for?"

"We'll be looking for a few things today," Laeyelle replied. "I'll be needing that sack filled with fallen autumn leaves. And perhaps some nice twigs as well. The sack my Ophanim carries will be for apples and this basket for mushrooms. I promised a friend I would pick her some fall blooms as well, but we'll worry about that after we've gathered the others first. I don't want to crush the flowers."

Bryaen nodded and a small chuckle escaped him. "I see you have everything planned out for this afternoon. I wish I could do that kind of planning."

"Given you are in charge of your own patrol, I'm sure you do plenty of planning," Laeyelle said with a hint of flirtatiousness that had Talan bristle. "I just had some good suggestions from a couple of friends that sparked my imagination. I thought about getting fireflies as well, but after meeting your friend on the Wall, I think it may not be a good idea to stay out past dark. My father would probably object most loudly, as well."

"Why not send a servant or your Ophanim to do it for you?" Bryaen suggested and Talan wondered if he was indirectly trying to get rid of her, then dismissed the notion as she realized it might have been a compliment to be let out on her own.

Laeyelle shook her head, her golden hair catching the light that filtered through the leaves and sent out more golden motes about her. "No. I'd rather make it more personal and do the work myself."

"You are a very thoughtful daughter," Bryaen said with a smile. "It would be nice if, in the future of course, I had such a thoughtful child."

"You wish to have a daughter?"

"Only if she turns out to be as thoughtful as you."

Talan felt uncomfortable at the wordplay and wondered if there was a hidden invitation there.

"I am honored," Laeyelle replied lightly, but did not further the conversation.

"Are you courting anyone?" Bryaen asked abruptly.

"Courting? No," Laeyelle said, the straight-to-the-point question making her hesitate for just a fraction of a second. "I am still adjusting to adulthood, as you know. I don't quite have the time to be making dalliances just yet. Perhaps in another year. There is no rush, right?"

Bryaen laughed. It was a deep, throaty laugh that reminded Talan of the lower caste taverns where cheap beer and ale were served. Even though she had never been in one of those taverns, those laughs, along with other yelps and calls, were the noises that she could hear while passing by. It made Talan bristle out of concern for her Seraphim's safety rather than jealousy. Then the sentinel said, "No, there is no rush at all. Unlike the human race, we have all the time we need. Still, if I may be improper, I figured your father would have made a few matches by now. Surely you've met some of them?"

"He has," Laeyelle replied. "And I have. But, I told them what I just told you and that is the truth of things. They have all been friends of my father's acquaintances and much older than I am, more settled into the routine of adulthood. They are looking for commitment and that is something I cannot give."

"For now."

"For now," Laeyelle conceeded.

The conversation finally shifted back to mundane topics and Talan was able to relax just a little and take in the surroundings. They had flown out of the redwood barrier and now flew above the evergreens that blanketed the Mountain. Every now and again, she would spot a seasonal tree with its bright red, orange, or yellow leaves. The seasonal trees became more dense the further they went down the mountain until the sounds of splashing, hatchlings' squeals, and the quiet murmur of angel voices reached their ears.

They wheeled slowly around, circling the pond a few times as Laeyelle searched for the apple trees with fruit. Talan spotted multiple families gathered about the pond, blankets spread on the ground with baskets of food on top. Picnicking was popular this warm afternoon. Fishers stood at the water's edge, watching and casting their lines. Talan noted that no one was actually in the pond itself as its waters must be freezing this time of year. Instead, hatchlings ran around the shore, their wings still too small to support their larger bodies. Fledglings mock-battled above the surface of the pond, trying to drive one of their friends into the water, but it seemed no one had yet fallen in. Or gotten tangled in the fishing lines.

Finally, Laeyelle chose a spot to land. They kicked up some leaves and dust as they did so. Their landing was just another party arriving to join the pond and no one bothered them.

"Open up your sack, Ophanim," Laeyelle directed. "We'll pick these apples first, then head into the woods for the other things."

Talan complied and the three of them set to picking the red apples that adorned the branches of the trees nearest them. They were joined by a few hatchlings, their squeals of delight nearly piercing Talan's ears as Bryaen bent down to pick them up one at a time so they could pick the fruit on the higher branches. Laeyelle sent them back to their families with some token apples for each as the sack of apples filled up.

"Leave the sack here," Laeyelle said and gestured at one of the trees. "We'll pick it up on the way out. I'm going to see if I can find some mushrooms and roots for Cook. Gather the leaves and twigs. I'll sort through them later. And try not to break any of the leaves."

Talan and Bryaen nodded. Laeyelle plunged into the forest, following a game trail. Talan waited for Bryaen to choose a direction, but he merely watched Laeyelle's backside. Talan then decided to block his view by following the Seraphim, snatching the sack from Bryaen as she went. Her duty of protecting the Lady of the House was drilled into her head and no matter if she was to go elsewhere, she knew her place was protecting Laeyelle. She picked up twigs and leaves on the way, giving them a cursory study as she kept one eye on Laeyelle. She heard Bryaen eventually follow in her wake.

The sack she held slung over one shoulder became steadily heavier as it filled up with more twigs than leaves. Bryaen muttered to himself, knowing Talan would not talk to him if spoken to. Meanwhile, Laeyelle paused periodically to poke at the ground with a stick, either digging up roots or testing a mushroom for its readiness.

The sun sank lower and lower in the sky, casting the forest into a golden glow and the colors of the trees became more pronounced in the fading light. There were still many leaves on the trees, some had not completed their color change and were still edged with green. Others were ready to fall at the slightest hint of a breeze. Some had fallen on Talan's head this afternoon. She paused a moment to soak it in. The sight was unfamiliar to her, having been acquainted with the evergreens farther up the mountain all her life. It was like the forest was on fire, but it did not produce heat or smoke and it wasn't nearly as destructive. Just beautiful.

Talan's ears picked up a rustling sound that was neither Laeyelle's nor Bryaen's. While she had paused to take in the sight, Bryaen had taken the chance to overtake her. Laeyelle was still in her peripheral view with Bryaen inbetween them. Talan turned, trying to pick out the source of the sound. She had turned around twice when she heard an unfamiliar, yet somewhat nostalgic voice, behind her.

"Found you," it--no, she--said. Talan whirled around, the sack she held nearly smacking her in the face from the motion. She stopped the sack's momentum and put it on the ground as she did two things simultaneously, sending out a wave of telepathy and studying the demon before her. The demon simply waved her hand and the telepathic force was deflected, sending some leaves scattering in its wake. "Ah-ah, none of that now. So. You are /his/ spawn."

"Whose?" Talan asked, the question unbidden made it past her lips before she realized she was not supposed to be speaking.

The demon tilted her head to one side, studying Talan. "I had heard of a demon being raised by angels, but I did not expect you to look like one as well."

Talan furiously thought. She, a demon? No. And yet, maybe that would explain her wings. No, no, no. She was being provoked. She had to--

"I wish to see your wings," the demon commanded sharply. Talan's whirlwind of thoughts became still at the command, her foremost question remained unanswered and unspoken. "Ah, that's right. Technically you would outrank me, having a father such as yours and my commands are merely words. But you have not grown up with us, so."

The demon snapped her fingers and Talan's wings sprouted, black and leathery before the feathers grew in to hide the hideous sight. Talan glanced around the clearing, and to her relief, neither Laeyelle nor Bryaen were around, but that made her more concerned. A demon was in the forest and she was here standing around, letting--no, being forced--to sprout her own wings.

"My, what magic," the demon said, studying her. Talan, staring back, finally figured out what the demon reminded her of: a fox. The demon had auburn hair that was streaked with white like a fox changing its colors for winter. The demon's nose was narrow and sharp with sly eyes futhered that impression, especially with the way she scrutinzed Talan's form. "I think the Fae would even be impressed by this glamour, but this is not their magic. Have you seen your true form? No, I suppose you haven't, aside from your wings. Why you would hide them underneath that pile of feathers is beyond me, but they are very magnificent, much like your father's."

Again, Talan wanted to ask just who her father was, but she choked down the question. The fox paced around her, trying to get a better view of her wings, but Talan followed her circling, not wanting to leave her back open to whatever machinations the fox had in her devious mind.

"I wonder," the demon trailed off and then suddenly snapped her fingers.

Talan felt a cold chill run through her body. She risked a glance down at herself, but didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

"Ah, it was much too quick. The magic is still too strong for me to break, but I think you are not quite ready to leave, either. I think your father will be proud of how well you've been brought up. Strong, able, and no doubt quick of mind. But we still have time, little demon spawn."

Talan's wings retracted, again unbidden. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure and when she returned her gaze to the demon, she found the fox lightly pressed against her body. The spicy smell of cinnamon assaulted her nose and before she could push the demon away, she brushed Talan's forehead in a light kiss and then simply disappeared. Talan realized, after a moment, that the illusion was broken as well. She saw Laeyelle and Bryaen off in the trees, still gathering leaves and roots. They seemed to be unaffected by where ever Talan had just been and must have heard nothing.

Talan briefly wondered if the lack of food was finally catching up to her when a small breeze blew past, carrying with it the faint scent of cinnamon. Talan picked up the sack in one hand and moved to wipe her forehead with the back of the other when she remembered her mask, then went to join Laeyelle.

That must have been a powerful demon, indeed. To feel the brush of the demon's lips on her forehead through the mask was a strong illusion. Or was it an illusion at all? The demon had talked as if she could see through Talan's mask. Talan shook her head to clear the thoughts from her mind. She would have to puzzle through it later. For now, she was too far from Laeyelle and needed to catch up. Just as she reached Bryaen who was holding a bundle of sticks and leaves in one arm, they heard screams and yells from the pond that were not of a peaceful nature.

Bryaen and Talan exchanged quick glances. Talan opened up her sack and Bryaen dumped his collection in it before taking off through the forest. The trees were too thick for flying so they had to move on the ground. Laeyelle joined Talan's side and wordlessly, Talan took her basket. They shared a quick glance before jogging back to the pond at a slower pace than Bryaen's. Laeyelle was not used to running. Walking, yes, but running for a distance, no. Talan stayed close to Laeyelle's side despite the Seraphim's urging for her to help the others. Talan's senses were heightened on the alert for something out of place. A small part of her wanted to figure out why she didn't make the connection earlier that if she had encountered one demon, a pack of them should also be nearby, but she shoved it down so it wouldn't distract her.

A rustle in the bushes ahead of them was all the warning Talan had. A demon rushed out, sword in hand, snarling in a language Talan didn't understand. It raised its sword in a challenge. The challenge gave Talan enough time to shake off her intial surprise and roughly put Laeyelle behind her. She would have to deal with the consequences of handling her Lady so roughly later, but only if they both survived. The demon rushed towards Talan and she had enough time to drop the sack and basket, take a step forward to increase the space between the demon and Laeyelle, evade the demon's downward stroke, and land a fist right in the demon's face.

Pain exploded in Talan's fist as the demon's face caved in. Teeth dislodged, their ragged edges cutting into Talan's unprotected fist. She felt, rather than heard, the sickening crunch of the demon's bones breaking. The demon slumped to the ground, sword falling harmlessly to the ground, dead. Talan shook her hand to release the tension and watched as droplets of blood flew to the ground. She realized then that she had unconsciously chanelled her hands with magic, which would explain the exaggerated punch, but it wasn't protective and her wounds were more than enough proof of that.

Laeyelle screamed, "Talan!"

Talan whirled around and bit back curse. She still wore her mask and silence was the primary rule of an Ophanim, despite having broken it earlier. Two more demons had gotten hold of Laeyelle's arms and were trying to drag her down. The Seraphim had been pulled back a good distance and was uselessly struggling with the two demons and was only inconveniencing them.

Talan still had magic channeled to her hands and she let it free. From her left, an invisible shard of air flew at one of the demons, nailing it right in the forehead. Its head whipped back from the force and it fell to the ground, dead. From her right, she released a broader, less well-formed force of air. It hit the second demon in the side, but the demon clung doggedly to Laeyelle's arm, half-twisting her around. The demon was now also being pummeled by a frantic Seraphim. Laeyelle couldn't compensate for the change in balance and started to go down to the ground. Talan was already on her way.

The demon noticed Talan's approach and it froze, clearly deciding whether it would be better to run or stay. It chose to run, releasing Laeyelle's arm. It gabbled in the same strange language as the first demon had as it ran off, arms raised and waving comically above its head.

Talan scanned the area around them before kneeling down by Laeyelle's side and helping her sit up.

"Laeyelle, are you alright?" Talan murmured. Ophanim rules be damned and no one else was here anyway. "We've got to go before it brings more of its friends. Come on. Good."

Talan forced herself to stop from rushing Laeyelle as she was in shock. She held Laeyelle's shoulders for a moment as the Seraphim simply stared. When it was clear that she would be in shock for a little while longer, Talan urged her to get to her feet.

"Can you jog?" Talan asked, trying to keep her voice from turning the question into a demand. "We've got to get back to the pond or we'll be grounded in the forest. In the dark."

Talan wasn't sure if the words were getting through, but she was able to coax Laeyelle into a jog for a few minutes before she had to slow down to a walk. Talan looked at the Seraphim's eyes and felt the shock was slowly wearing off. She held Laeyelle's hand with her uninjured one, leading her through the trees and the fading light.

It felt like a candlemark had passed when they finally broke through the forest and into the clearing where the pond was. Bodies, both angelic and demonic, littered the ground in front of them. Some were dead, others heavily wounded or unconscious. Bright sparks of light bloomed sporadically in various areas as magic was being used to fend off the demon attacks. The moans of the injured and the near-hysterical sobbing of those who managed to avoid harm replaced the screams and shouts from earlier.

Lost hatchlings wandered aimlessly around, still in shock and unable to comprehend what exactly was going on. These hatchlings snapped Laeyelle out of her shock and she went to the closest one, gathering him close. She grew her wings and they shimmered in the near-twilight, a beacon that the hatchlings were instinctively drawn to. The motes from her wings drifted on the wind like unshed tears for the dead. She looked to Talan, but the Ophanim's attention was elsewhere.

Talan itched to join the remaining defenders, but the fighting was already winding down with both sides suffering losses. The adults were using whatever improvised tools they had at hand--picnic baskets, fishing poles, fishing lines--to fend off the last of the demons. Talan spotted the blue uniforms of guards scattered among the other bodies. Only Bryaen seemed ready for the attack, if only because he had the element of surprise when he joined the initial fray.

"We need just one alive," Bryaen insisted to a group of adults. "It would help us if we could question one. They can't all be nearly dead!"

"If we had a healer," one of the adults said, "then that would not be a problem. However, they seem quite happy to give up their lives than be captured by us. We're wasting our time. What makes you think they'll talk? Likely they'd bite of their own tongue anyway."

"We have to try." Bryaen gritted his teeth. Talan wasn't sure if he was irritated that an opportunity was slipping through his fingers. "They have never attacked this pond. And why today? It breaks their pattern."

"Demons are unpredictable," someone else muttered. "Illogical, consistently inconsistent. I don't get how they can keep breeding."

"That's true," an angel said, drawing himself up as if he were about to give a lecture. "Demons are not so coordinated unless a truly powerful demon has risen up to take the reins of leadership. I do not think that is the case here." He gestured at the scene around them. "This may simply be another faction of demons separate from the ones attacking the farms. They must have seen our numbers and thought it was too good of an opportunity to pass up."

"I'll have to beat the lesson of surprise in my guards," Bryaen muttered darkly as he eyed the blue-clad bodies of his fallen. "Regardless, whatever the reason, whatever information we can gather from a live prisoner will help. Find the best one out of this lot. Maybe we can salvage something."

They dispersed, some to tend to the wounded, others to find a live captive. Talan turned to Laeyelle. She was sitting on the ground with a pile of hatchlings all around her. They had drifted off to sleep in her comforting presence, each touching a piece of her clothing. Laeyelle looked back at Talan with a small smile of apology.

"Seraphim!" someone gasped. "There's a Seraphim here!"

As the message passed on, the adults began to gather around them. Talan bristled, not quite sure what to expect. Some of the females just gathered the hatchlings in their arms while some of the males circled around them, providing another layer of protection.

"Sure, the Seraphim's still alive," someone sneered. "She's got her Ophanim protecting her. Where's our Ophanim, huh?"

"Hush," Bryaen said, smacking the offender upside his head. "Now's not the time for that."

"Oh, and she's got a sentinel with her!"

Bryaen leveled the fishing pole he was holding at the angel's throat. "I said that's enough. We have other issues to take care of and if you are not going to help, you can leave while the sun's still up. Remember, nighttime is demons' time and if you don't fly with a flock, I can't guarantee your safe return."

That logic made the angel swallow whatever else he was going to say. He grumbled, but didn't move and didn't offer any other offenses. The other angels looked back at Laeyelle and Talan, who shifted uneasily under their skeptical gazes.

"What are we going to do with these orphans?" a female piped up, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Surely you will tell the Council about this?"

"I will take the case back to the Council," Laeyelle said soothingly. "For now, we should be thankful we did not lose more lives. Let the others finish their search, then we will arrange an escort back to your homes."

Talan noticed that Laeyelle didn't mention Aerie and looked closer at the angels gathered around them. Many had a more rustic feel to their clothes, meant for working the land rather than sitting in meetings. She idly wondered where the orphans would go and if any of them would become Ophanim later.

"Ophanim, your hand bleeds," a male pointed out.

Talan looked down at her hand, reminded of the injuries she had taken from carelessly punching that first imp. A second later, as the adrenaline wound down and she found herself colder and the pain settled in. Blood that had escaped before the wound began to heal still flowed sluggishly down to her fingertips where it then dripped to the ground. She didn't bother flexing her hand and there wasn't much she could do now. She nodded once to the male in acknowledgement and pulled out a long scrap of cloth to wrap her hand with, thoughts turning to her possible not-angel state in an effort to keep the pain at bay. Though, that wasn't very comforting, either.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur to Talan. Her mind kept churning, replaying the events of that afternoon over and over. She was now seated in one of Laeyelle's chairs. It was the first time she had gotten to sit down since she could remember that day. Her stomach grumbled restlessly, reminding her that it had also been a long time since had last eaten.

Laeyelle appeared and pressed a warm mug of tea into her cold, uninjured hand. She didn't quite meet Talan's gaze, but Talan felt her hesitation before she turned around. Talan forced herself to relax. Her Lady was safe and that was all that mattered, wasn't it? Her first real application of her duties to her Lady and her mind was in all the wrong places. If only...

Laeyelle returned, this time with a tub of lightly steaming water. The faint scent of jasmine reached Talan's nose.

"Drink," Laeyelle commanded, gently. She stood in front of Talan, not moving or putting down the tub until the Ophanim raised the mug to her lips, the trembling in her fingers making the mug shake and spill more water on the Ophanim's shirt rather than what went down her throat. "Does it hurt?"

Talan started to say something, but it sounded more like a squawk. She cleared her throat and tried again. "It throbs."

"Drink more of the tea," Laeyelle said and waited until Talan drank down half of the mug.

Laeyelle put down the tub of water on a table next to the chair, the same side as Talan's injured hand. Carefully, she unwrapped the crude bandage wrapped around Talan's hand. Talan winced as the fabric peeled away from her wounds reluctantly. Laeyelle squeezed the towel that had been soaking in the water and began to lightly sponge away the crusted blood. Talan swallowed down a hiss at the sting, covering it by raising the mug back to her lips to chug down more of the tea. Laeyelle murmured in a soothing tone, but Talan couldn't understand what she was saying because her voice was so soft. Talan wondered, vaguely, where the servants were.

Laeyelle's cool fingers soothed the inflamed wounds after the towel had done its work, presumably getting rid of any infection. Talan didn't want to think about the possible kinds of bugs the demon carried in its mouth. She began to doze at Laeyelle's gentle ministrations. Weariness settled into her bones, a physical and mental weakness Talan didn't feel comfortable with and which she attributed mainly to the lack of food. The tea only blunted the sharpness of Talan's need for food, but tiredness won out.

The mug fell to the floor with a muffled thump. Talan's eyes fluttered at the sound as she tried to rouse herself, but Laeyelle was still working on her hand and that was soothing enough to send her back into her doze.

"Lord Syrael is going to kill me," Talan murmured, not aware she was actually speaking out loud.

"He won't," Laeyelle replied. "I'll make sure of that. You're the reason, after all, why I'm back home. You are my Ophanim. You serve me. It will be my choice what your punishment will be, if you have one."

"I serve my Lady, not him. It is an honor to serve." The words that came out were drilled into Talan's head, slightly tweaked from her training. Talan was still half asleep and still unaware she was speaking out loud.

Talan dimly remembered being coaxed to her feet. Her larger size made it harder for Laeyelle to move her to the bed, but somehow the Seraphim managed. Talan lay on the bed, eyes half-open and uncomprehending what was going on. Laeyelle was undressing her, given the chill against her more bare skin. She was repositioned, first one leg, then the other, then one arm, then her torso was nudged. She breathed in, the scent of Laeyelle and jasmine made her relax further. She heard a rustle of clothes falling to the floor and Laeyelle pressed against her side. Talan curled her arm, bringing Laeyelle closer.

Whether it was the near-constant shivering of Laeyelle, despite the blankets over them, or some other, deeper bond between them, it made Talan unable to fall into the abyss of sleep. She sensed Laeyelle was still awake, probably thinking over the events in her mind just as she had. Talan dragged herself out of the stupor, tugging lightly on Laeyelle. The Seraphim looked up with red eyes, tears that she seemed to want to shed or express, somehow, the trauma that was in her but could not find an appropriate outlet.

Talan shifted further down so their heads were equal and lightly kissed Laeyelle's forehead. Laeyelle nestled her nose against Talan's neck, lightly, hesitantly kissing, then more insistently nipping until Talan pulled her up and they shared a kiss. Hands roamed, more clothing was shed, and the past events of the afternoon were pushed away in favor of the present.