Ready To Move On

Elochian

I sit in my nest, pills heavy on my stomach. I twirl loose hair around my finger, staring at the moonlit world outside my bedroom window. The snow abruptly stopped at midnight, but my mind won’t follow the trend. My phone continues to vibrate almost constantly despite the time, but none of the notifications are from the person I want to hear from the most.

I don’t even know why I’m fixating on him. I needed Michael to rescue me from a heartfelt confession for Mithys’ sake. There’s no such thing as a code green, only a coward of an archdemon. I’m a shame to my race. To humanity. To Quentin. He deserves better than someone who runs away from the prospect of anything that shifts the paradigm.

What would I have said?

Quentin, I care for you too, but I’m broken and a terrible person.

Quentin, I’m nothing but my legacy, and any life spent with me will be boring. I’m boring.

Quentin, I’m unsure how to love again, and I’m afraid you’ll break what remains of me.

Even touching his hand felt like a betrayal, but it also felt like … everything.

For the first time in so long, I—I wanted to kiss someone. I’ve never really thought about it before, what it would be like to kiss him. Now, all I can think about is the way his lips twist in a wry smile, holding back the words, ‘I told you so,’ because he’s too nice to ever utter them.

The way his lips part, allowing nervous laughter to spill forth.

The way he whispers my name any time he says it. Lochian.

Lochian, I care about you.

A dull, quiet warmth blooms in my core. Not the all consuming, heated lust from the days before staying sane became a priority. Regardless, it’s more than I’ve felt in a long, long time. I glance at the distant bedroom door, despite the fact it’s locked and my room is empty. At the thought of taking advantage of this opportunity, icy anxiety rushes up my spine, spreading throughout my limbs.

Instead of pursuing the rare arousal, I lay on my side in my nest of moss, sticks, blanket, and glittering scales. I hoped that if I slept in my nest tonight, I would have a better chance of falling asleep. But the warmth intensifies to a low burn that I find hard to ignore.

I wrap my wings around myself, and try to sleep.

I don’t experience any more issues until the day I’m scheduled to meet Tobias, which is coincidentally the same day I’ll be seeing Quentin again. It’s alarming and uncomfortable, to say the least. I lay in the nest, begrudgingly making a mental note to speak with Doc. Arlo and I are on different medications, but I wonder if he goes through this. It would be comforting to know I’m not the only one under distress. Logically, I know that I’m not. But friends are a greater comfort than statistics.

I roll over, groaning as my partially hard shaft rubs against the mattress. Overwhelming, electric heat flares in every nerve, and I try not to think.

I try not to think of why this might be happening after years and years of not feeling this way about anyone else except for Bartholomew.

I close my eyes, try not to think, and take hold of myself.

A small gasp escapes me. My balls rise in response to the coolness of my palm, and I shiver as my fingers curl. I search for a distant, but no less strong, memory of Bartholomew in my arms, and me in his. It’s one I hold onto dearly during these rare times I’m overcome with the urge to release, which has since been … I don’t even know how long.

But with a shock that shoots right to my groin and gums, it’s not Bartholomew’s face that comes to mind.

It’s Quentin’s.

A white hot burst of lust barrels throughout my body, burning out my veins and awakening every muscle. My teeth scrape against my bottom lip, but the throbbing ache in my gums as they grow is greater than the pain of a pierced lip. My heart beats out of rhythm for a moment, then staggers back into place.

Quicker than the all consuming burn, a heavy, damp blanket of shame settles throughout, snuffing out any traces of the fire.

I laugh, and it claws and tears as it escapes.

The moment I chase hope, my past yanks it away.

A couple hours later, I wait for Tobias in the northern den of my apartment. It’s private, comfortable, and quiet. Despite the fact our meeting is private, the Manor is brimming with activity. The fact we’re meeting at all is a source of great joy for the estate, one that is contagious. I’m curled up on an ottoman near the lit hearth, sipping on spiked cider. Lips and nose buried in the collar of my turtleneck, I stare into the low flames, twirling my hair around my finger.

For the third time this morning, Michael says, “Sir.”

I shoot the jinni a glare. They’re seated behind a desk, glasses perched on their nose as they goes through my correspondence. He’s dressed in the same black suit he’s usually in, a contrast to my disheveled look.

“For the last time, nothing’s wrong.”

Michael snorts, going back to his work. “Right. So you’re fire breathing for no reason at all.”

“Fire breathing?”

“Yes. Fire breathing. All that huffing and puffing you’re doing could burn down a house.”

I roll my eyes and take a long sip of my drink. It warms my chest as it goes down, and the anxiety thrumming on my brain dulls to a low roar. I sense an incoming presence that can only be Tobias, a soul that’s brighter than all the rest on the ethereal map laid out in my head. He ascends the stairs at the heart of the main house.

While I wait, I take out my phone and check it. Plenty of messages from Andromeda, the council, and the investigators on Kavelli’s case. Nothing from Quentin, or anyone else important, for that matter.

Should I say something?

‘Hey, I know I ran out on you earlier this week and disappeared off the face of the earth, again, but I’m really looking forward to seeing you tonight? But not in a romantic way, just a platonic way, because apparently you give me boners which stress me out and I’m ruined.’

Yeah, probably not any of that.

Instead of writing to him, I quickly send Doc a message before I can lose my nerve.

Me (10:30 AM): Hi Doc. I need an appointment that’s sooner than our other one.

I sit there, zoning out on the words, and am startled when there’s a knock on the door. I stand and call out, “Come in.”

Annie steps inside and promptly performs the mark of Adrastus, head bowed. She does not speak due to a Vow of Silence that she made well before joining Clan Adrastus, something that is common for the more pious celestials. Using sign language, she announces, “Sir, Lord Daemarrel is here.”

She steps out of the way, and Tobias enters the room. His eyes are wide, and his hair is clean and unbound. His wings are spelled away, and I quickly bury the jealousy that comes whenever I see a celestial with hidden wings.

“Thank you, Annie. I can take it from here.” I bow my head to her, and she leaves. She is no-nonsense and straight to the point, which is what I like about her.

“Tobias, I’m glad you came.” I offer my hand to Tobias, and he shakes it firmly. He still looks like shit, but not so defeated. I gesture towards the hearth. “Please, come take a seat by the fire. I hear it’s mighty cold out there today.”

“Thank you. It is, all that snow we got is frozen solid now. Pretty, but a nuisance.”

I settle back into the chair I was occupying before, and Tobias takes up the one beside me. Michael is there within moments with a plate of small egg pies, and he sets it down on the end table between us without a sound, along with a silver platter complete with a small kettle and a delicate porcelain cup. “Tea?” He asks Tobias.

“Oh, I can—”

But Michael’s already pouring the tea, and I hide my smile behind my cider. After taking a sip, I say, “First lesson. Save your breath. Demons and angels are insufferable when it comes to things like this.”

Michael gives me a flat look, returning the kettle to its place on the platter. “You would starve without me.” He offers the cup of tea to Tobias, who takes it with a smile and a small ‘thank you.’

“This is true. Thank you, Michael.”

Michael nods, then returns to his workspace. Tobias looks between me and him. I nod to the jinni. “Michael is my shomer. Do you know what that is?”

Tobias winces. “Other than the literal definition, which I’m not sure applies here. He’s your protector?”

“Guardian, would be more accurate. All Arches have one, it is an old tradition that dates back to the very first pair. You will have one, eventually. Usually, Arches are bonded with a newborn shomer at birth to form the strongest bond possible, and are assigned a temporary one in the meantime. A mentor to the budding protege. Shomer not only keep us safe from danger, but from ourselves. Michael is right, I would most likely starve without him force feeding me. Or making sure I take my medications. You get the gist.”

“That’s amazing, and also … intrusive.”

I shrug. “Not really.”

“So … you grew up together?”

I swallow, looking away. “Ah, no. We have been bonded for about a hundred years now. Like I said, the bond usually takes place at birth, but it can happen later on, as will be the case for you.”

Tobias makes a face. “I don’t think I need one. No offense, Michael.”

Michael chuckles, but says nothing.

I turn my attention back to Tobias. “Tobias … you realize that everything is going to change, right? You may not think so now, but you will need a shomer to keep you and your family safe, and to help you do your duty.”

Tobias takes a sip of his tea, then sets the cup down on the table. He sits back in his chair, drawing his knees up to his chest. I nearly smile at how informal he is, and he doesn't even realize it. It’s a relief, one that seems to settle the house as well as me. He quietly asks, “Safe from what? I’m not naive, but who would want to hurt an Arch if they’re so good?”

“You are about to inherit an aristocracy that has been running since before either of us were born, and the influence and power that comes with it is astronomical. You will be supporting the care and education programs in Levena, the malakim families and their well-being. You will be an anchor to the demon’s power, and their life force, like I am for your angels. Such power can be transferred to a celestial of lower status, through death and defeat. Kill the Arch, and you take everything they have. But it dies there, as stolen power cannot be inherited.”

Tobias is quiet for a long time. He stares into the fire, and I wonder if I’ve scared him off. He asks, “That’s what happened to your first shomer, isn’t it? Someone tried to kill you?”

In a shuddering exhale, I say, “Yes. It was a long time ago.”

Tobias watches me, expectant. I owe it to Tobias, to my other half, to this angel who is being so mercilessly dumped into the harshness of our world, to tell him my story. I know this, but it has been so long since I’ve spoken aloud the intricacies of my nightmares. I take comfort in watching the flames as I begin, unable to look at Tobias or Michael as I retell about the worst day of my life. 

“I was poisoned twice that year. It was untraceable, the culprit unknown. My aunt practically kept me imprisoned in this house, I couldn’t even go outside onto the estate grounds. I hated it so much. I was young, and believe it or not, I liked going out on the town, talking with people. Being in life instead of ruling over it. It was different back then, solar technology was a new and theorized concept, just coming into its own. There was so much new and unknown at the time.”

“One night I snuck out of the manor. It was the Day of Artune, and I—I was looking forward to taking Bartholomew to the festival, had been all year. He protested, but in the end, what could he do? He accompanied me, and kept me safe. To this day I still don’t know how he knew, but there was—” I clear my throat and lean ahead, resting my elbows on my knees.

“There was a shot. I didn’t even hear it, I don’t think anyone did but him. One second we were sitting together on a bench, watching the lover’s dance that had just wrung us of breath moments before. And then the next, I—I was on the ground, with Bartholomew on top of me. He was heavy, and I was so confused, my head hurt from where it hit the stone, but most of all, I was scared. In the beat of a heart I knew, because I could feel it. The absence of him. I had never felt it before.”

I fall silent and numb. The world does as well, grieving for the person that my mistakes so grievously punished. I have never admitted my part in things to anyone before. Not Michael, not Doc, not Arlo.

After some time, I slowly turn in my seat and look up at Michael. At some point during my story they came and stood behind me, a silent and grounding pillar. Michael stares down at me, gaze tracking back and forth across my features. They take a knee and bow their head, placing a hand over their heart.

Tentatively, I rest a hand on the back of his neck and squeeze once, unsure what to say. Unsure what he’s trying to say. Quietly, I settle on, “I won’t put you in harm’s way, Michael. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

Michael lifts their head, eyes wet as they stare up at me. “Living your life is not a mistake, Sir.”

I sniff, looking away. “Please, don’t.”

“My lord,” Michael says, rising.

Tobias watches us, expression sad. He asks, “Who was it?”

I smile, but it’s grim. “I don’t know. They were never found. My life … changed, to say the least. The opportunities to kill me were drastically cut, but there have still been attempts over the years.”

“I have children, Elochian,” Tobias says, not exactly accusing, but it’s close.

“I know. You can still run. I … I wouldn’t blame you. I’ve been able to manage.”

Tobias studies me. I withstand his evaluation, remaining still until he shakes his head. “No. I’m not running, not anymore. I’ll do what it takes to keep them safe, even if that means bonding with a stranger. I have to ask, does the shomer bond … interfere?”

I tilt my head, it takes five whole seconds for the words to click. “Oh. No. It’s not a romantic bond. I’ve never felt a soulmate bond, but I’ve heard it feels much different. It will not interfere with you and Caspian at all. The same goes for the bond between you and me. That’s different.”

He sighs, clearly relieved. “Okay.”

I rub at my temple. “I’m good friends with Lady Eilweir, the malakim who’s been managing Clan Haniel for the past fifty years or so. She’s very kind and has good judgment, she’s choosing candidates for you as we speak. She’s also preparing a crash course of her own for you, but I thought it best to start small, just you and I.”

Tobias tilts his head. “And she’s going to be fine with handing over this so-called empire to a stranger?”

Without hesitation I say, “Yes. She’s hardworking and exceptionally intelligent, but this isn’t what she’s meant for, nor what she wants. But, as a descendant of the last archangel to watch over Levena, it’s her duty. Trust me, she’s very ready to move on.”

“That’s reassuring,” he says on the tail end of a breathy laugh.

I laugh a little too, and when it dies I hesitantly say, “You know … I’m curious about what Caspian thinks of all this.”

Tobias rolls his eyes so hard that I have to restrain more laughter. “He was on me nonstop about getting in touch with you, which to be honest, made me not want to all the more. Not so much to take my place or anything, but he knew something happened that night which changed me, changed my place in the world. I slept for the entire next day, and ever since then I’ve been constantly unwell.”

“And what did he say after you did? See me?”

Tobias runs a hand through his hair, sighing. “I told him everything you said. That I can cut ties and I’ll feel better, eventually, or I can do what I was apparently made for. I’m not stupid, Elochian. I know that being an archangel is different from being an angel, but I didn’t know the … nature of it, I suppose. My parents were isolationists to begin with, they never agreed with the idea of celestials living with humans. ‘We’re Children of the Gods, for fuck’s sake.’ And after they realized I was more than them, in their eyes mind you, and a witch, it became unbearable. They were so awful, so I … I left.”

“And where did you live? Before Levena?”

Tobias blinks, then chuckles with a hollowness I’m deeply familiar with. “In the mountains, to the east of Brinecliff. I wandered for quite some time, but I didn’t meet any other angels. Plenty enough demons, and they were as confused by me as I was by them. Anyways, my wandering ended in Levena. I opened the bindery, and not long after met Caspian. We made our home here.”

I tilt my head. “Interesting.”

He blinks. “What?”

“Well, there are archdemons in Brinecliff, Faydale, and Northgrave, for starters. But you were drawn here. I ...” A surge of emotion washes over me and I look away, blinking rapidly. It was always meant to be him. He was always meant to be mine.

Tobias whispers, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” I say without turning my gaze back to him.

“What did you mean about my being your other half? Because that’s Cas. He’s my person. But I do feel you. You’re right, it’s not the same, not at all. But after I saw you the other night, it was like … it was like the first day I walked into Levena. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I could put my bags down. Do you know what I mean?”

“I do.” I sigh, looking back to him. “In the past, bashert, which is what we are, were celestial soulmates in every sense of the word. Lovers. Lifelong companions. Enemies. Two that were One. Halves of a Whole. But over time, the dynamic changed. Celestials rebelled against this notion of a predetermined partner that is necessary for survival.

“They chose romantic partners of their volition, and instead worked with their bashert on a more platonic, but no less interconnected, basis. That is all you and I are. I need you, and you need me. Your people need me, and mine need you. It’s a symbiotic relationship. We gain power and constitution from them, and vice-versa.”

“So how have you been able to do what you do?” Tobias asks, and it’s the loudest thing in the room.

“Because it’s what I was raised for.”

I stand outside of Thitwhistle’s, bathed in a lamplight’s glow. Silhouettes of my friends play on the closed curtains drawn over bizarrely placed windows. My heart rattles its cage, desperately trying to make me turn back. Michael is parked just down the street, my getaway driver for when I’m ready to flee. I told them to come in with me, but they insisted I have some ‘regular person time.’

Whatever that means.

Arlo is the only person he trusts me with, which is just great because thoughts of seeing Arlo again after our weird conflict, and seeing Quentin after I ran away, are almost too much to take. And how am I supposed to act with Tobias and Caspian now? I want to simply be Elochian tonight, not the archdemon who’s upending their life.

You know what, this was a bad idea. I’ll just—

I turn around, nearly crashing into a draconian with visceral yellow eyes. “Shit! Dusan.” I brace my hands on my knees and do my best to calm my heart.

Dusan chuckles, the sound deep and rumbling. “Good evening, Elochian. Apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you. Leaving the party so soon?”

I stand, using both hands to smooth my wild hair back. I left it loose tonight, a decision I’m already regretting. “What party? There’s no party.”

Dusan winks at me, then reaches into her thick, insulated coat which falls around her ankles. She pulls out two small boxes, and offers me one. “You dropped this.”

I take it, confused as hell. Then, I look at the small tag attached to the box via a pretty green ribbon. Lindsey.

“Fuck …” I mutter, then look to Dusan. “I will pay you back.”

Dusan smiles. “Go on inside, and that’ll be payment enough.”

I raise a brow. “Why do I feel like I’m being bribed right now?”

She laughs. “Because you are.”

“Fair enough.” I offer my arm to her, and she takes it with a smile. “Also, how did you know I would forget?”

She shrugs. “I didn’t.”

“Sure. Keep your secrets then, dragon.”

Dusan kisses me on the cheek and opens the door for us, since I’ve apparently frozen in front of it again. “Go on, dear.”

“Alright, alright,” I grumble, shaking off my wings before I step inside the door. A chorus of ‘Hey, hello, hey!’ follows, and I raise a hand in greeting. I hang up my coat on a literal coat tree, then wander over to the western hearth where Lindsey and Kitt are sitting. Tobias and Caspian are in deep conversation with Gowan and Iris further inside the cafe, and their little shedim run around chirping at everyone.. Arlo and Quentin are nowhere to be seen, and Silas and Felix are missing too.

The entire cafe is decorated more lavishly than it was for Felix’s birthday, and another wave of gratitude washes over me. I would’ve felt like an idiot walking in here without Dusan’s warning. The dragon seems to have no problem with interrupting conversation on the other side of the room, but I take a seat beside Lindsey on the couch.

“Happy Birthday, Lindsey. Kitty, hello.”

Lindsey smiles, dazzling in a long dress woven with hundreds of glittering purple beads. “Thanks Loch, it’s good to see you.”

Kitty yawns, leaned back against the cushion with an arm outstretched behind Lindsey. She’s dressed in a more winter appropriate getup, slim black pants and a low cut silk blouse that matches Lindsey’s shirt in color. Her tail taps the floor a few times in a slow, lazy motion. “Long time no see, Loch. How’s it been?”

I blow out a long breath. “Fine, busy as hell. Tonight’s actually the first time I’ve been a real person in ages.”

Kitty snorts. “You’re always a real person, even when you’re cooped up doing demon mumbo jumbo.”

I give her a look. “I’m remembering why I missed you so much now.”

She grins. “Damn right.”

“How is the wedding planning coming?”

Lindsey exhales heavily. “She is the definition of bridezilla.”

I raise a brow. “Really? And here I was thinking it would be you.”

Lindsey scoffs. “She can’t make a decision to save her life, why would this be any different? I always know exactly what I want.” She takes a gentle hold of Kitt’s chin, turning her face to the side so she can kiss her cheek, leaving behind a smear of plum lipstick.

“Ah, well when you put it like that. Still this summer, though?”

“Definitely, and I even decided on Beltane,” Kitt says, winking flirtatiously at Lindsey. “It’s the best time of the year for love.”

My thoughts must play onto my face, because Lindsey laughs and says, “Don’t worry, elves stopped throwing orgies on Beltane millennia ago. But for a wedding, might make an exception …”

Kitt bumps her horn against Lindsey. “There are children present,” she sing-songs.

“But you—”

“Are much subtler than you, my love.”

“Whatever.” Lindsey sighs, then directs her attention to me, turning serious. “So, have you talked to Quentin lately?”

My heart quickens. “No, not since Monday. Why?” New voices and distant footsteps come from the distant kitchen. Lindsey and Kitt exchange a look. “What?” I ask again.

Lindsey straightens a little, giving me a look I haven’t seen on her before. The teasing atmosphere flips on its head, turning into something foreboding. “If you can’t be bothered to talk to him, then it’s not my place to tell you. All I can say is if you’re gonna just be his friend, that’s fine, but be his friend. Quit dicking him around.”

Then she stands, leaving me behind in a swish of glittering purple.

I look between her retreating figure and Kitty, unsure what the hell just happened. Kitt lifts a hand, bringing her fingers close together. “She’s a wee bit protective of Q, but not wrong. Get your shit together, Loch. Oh, time for cake!”