“I...I don’t feel so good,” I said, gulping for air.
“Gotta say. You’ve looked better,” said Sean. The moment Raja disappeared into the distance, Sean had scurried to my side. He sat behind me and cradled my head and shoulders in his arms.
Dorian had come to just in time to witness Raja flying away with the sword. The siblings stood shoulder to shoulder staring down at me with confusion in their eyes.
“Thanks. Nice shooting by the way.” I began to cough slightly. My breathing had become labored, and talking had started to grow increasingly difficult.
“And you said video games were a waste of time.” Sean tried to force a laugh, probably to try and lighten my mood. He looked up and addressed the others. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong with her? It’s just a scratch.”
Lillith and Dorian glanced at one another but remained silent.
“What aren’t you guys telling me? What’s going on?” Sean’s voice became more insistent.
Lillith turned and walked toward Sam, keeping him away from the sight of me.
My skin had turned gray, and my dark blue veins were more pronounced than usual. I glanced down at my chest. The sight was grotesque.
And I suddenly understood what was happening to me.
I was dying.
Dorian’s hand brushed against the back of his neck. He looked apprehensive, but at the same time, I could see he was trying hard not to worry Sean.
It wasn’t working.
“Dammit Dorian. If someone doesn’t start talking soon, I swear to God, I don’t give a shit how strong you are. I’ll beat it out of you if I have to!”
Sean wanted answers.
“Sean. Leave him be. He’s just trying to protect you,” I mumbled, straining to get the words out.
I’d grown weaker. It wouldn’t be long.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “He barely scratched you. This doesn’t make sense. You’re fine. You have to be fine.”
“He got me with my own sword. The sword...the sword is the spear. The Spear of Azazel.” I struggled to speak, but I had to tell him. We couldn’t hide the truth from him or Sam anymore. Not after what they’d just witnessed. “My mother shielded it...changed it so no one could discover its true identity.”
“What?’ Sean barked loudly.
“I’m sorry. We should have told you.”
“Your sword? It’s the spear?”
I nodded weakly.
“How long have you known?” he asked.
“Just a few days,” said Dorian. “I swear.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” I could hear the betrayal in Sean’s voice. “You should have told us!”
“Actually. If we’re being honest here, I knew, too,” said Lillith, leaning in. She glanced over at Sean, who didn’t look amused. He glared at her, forcing her to promptly take a step back.
“We figured it was better you didn’t know. Safer that way,” Dorian replied.
“Safer for who?” Sean held me tighter. “Why does she look like this?”
“In terms you can understand?” Lillith said. “She’s been poisoned by her own sword.”
“But she’s not an angel,” said Sean.
Lillith grew quiet.
Sam found his way to my side. He crouched down and held my hand. “What’s going to happen to her?” he asked.
Dorian gazed down at me. His eyes held incredible sadness as I watched a tear fight its way down his cheek. “She’s going to die.” His words were sharp and to the point.
And ironic.
For years—centuries—I’d wanted nothing more than to die. To feel nothing. To no longer be lonely and miserable and question God about my existence. Even before I could fly, I used to dream about how it would feel to leave this world on my own terms. Instead, I watched people live and die while I continued on without a purpose.
A purpose, a meaning to life, a reason to be. I’d always believed that without any of that, living was pointless. After all, a life without a future wasn’t really a life.
But as I lay there, surrounded by friends, people who cared about me, I suddenly realized that I had more to live for than I ever had before. I’d been wrong all those years. It wasn’t a purpose—or friendship or love— that gave someone the reason to live.
It was a belief in something. Anything. To believe was the root of why people existed in the first place. A belief in God or a higher power. A belief in what it meant to be a friend; that alone was far more important than friendship itself. Believing in love and how it could change you for the better was far more important than just saying the word. Belief in mankind—that they could get past all the wars, hatred, and dysfunction and move ahead—was the reason to continue on. It was the whole reason to look ahead and be positive about the world.
I wanted to live, continue to be around, and believe that I could make a difference anywhere I went, to leave a part of myself with those I came in contact with along the way.
But it was too late. Raja had cut me with the Spear of Azazel, my own sword. And it had poisoned me. My body was going into shock, and there was no way to stop it. After all those years of wanting the taste of death, all I wanted was to live.
“There has to be something you can do. She’s immortal. She can’t die,” Sean said, choking back angry tears. “She can’t.”
I watched Dorian hastily wipe something from his face with the back of his hand, clearly trying to be strong for the others.
But he was failing.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think there’s anything we can do,” he confessed.
My head fell to the side as Sean continued to cradle me in his arms. I no longer had the strength to hold it in place. Sam continued to hold my hand while kneeling at my side and watched the scene unfold. But his face wasn’t filled with grief, anger, or even sadness. Rather, all I saw was curiosity. He was a great kid. Nothing seemed to faze him. Not even the sight of a dying girl with wings.
“Hey,” I said to him. “You okay?”
Sam smiled brightly. “You’re the one who’s injured, and you’re concerned about me?” He gripped my hand tighter. “You’re a piece of work, aren’t ya?”
It was difficult to breathe, but I forcibly inhaled and exhaled the best I could and tried to give a reassuring smile. I was terrified on the inside, but I was determined not to let Sam see it.
“You shouldn’t be here. You should go home. This isn’t your fight,” I said.
“There’s already too much complacency in this world, too many that can’t see the bigger picture when things begin to happen. They’re too busy going about their own lives to care about the lives of others. We’re all connected on this earth; the needs of the many are way more important than the selfish desires of the few. Your world is my world. Your enemy is my enemy. Your fight is my fight,” said Sam.
“How did you get so smart?” I asked, gasping steadily for air.
He shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.”
Sean didn’t move. He continued to hold me as if his life depended on it. Sam picked himself up and backed away. Lillith stood behind him and placed her arms around his shoulders, hugging him from behind.
Dorian stepped forward and knelt down by my side. His fingers brushed the hair out of my face.
“We have to do something,” I heard Sean say. “We can’t just let her die.”
I could feel Dorian’s fingers gently graze my cheek. I tried to raise my hand to touch his face, but my arm wouldn’t move. Everything around me began to blur, and everyone’s voices started to become muffled. I felt myself losing the battle to stay conscious, and my eyes felt heavy.
The poison of the sword had more than done its job. I could no longer keep my eyelids from closing. My surroundings began to fade and my senses shut down completely.
Then, it all went dark.
My mind raced. I felt as though I was trapped in a large room with no lights. I called out, but no one answered, my voice echoing off the walls. There was something in the distance trying to break through the darkness. It appeared blurry at first, slowly coming into focus. Shadowy, bare feet walked toward me, almost as if in slow motion. Long, flowing garments nearly touched the ground as she grew closer.
She stopped and crouched down at my side, reaching for me. Her touch was warm as she placed my hands in hers. My eyes went from her fingers and gradually traveled upward to her face. Her features were familiar. Her smile friendly.
“Skyy.” Her voice was soft, her eyes never leaving me.
“Where am I?” I asked.
“Nowhere. You’re still with your friends in the Badlands. But time is running out.”
“Who are you?”
She grinned. “No one of any importance. Not any more at least.”
“You look familiar. Like a face I once knew.”
“It’ll come to you.” She gripped my hands a bit tighter and held them close to her chest. “But I need you to focus right now, to concentrate as hard as you can.”
“I know I know you.” I couldn’t let go of how familiar she looked.
“Skyy. Focus. I need you to repeat what I’m about to say to you.”
“Repeat?”
“Yes. Repeat. Can you do that?”
My eyes studied her face. Her name was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t think clearly.
“Skyy. Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
“Say what I say. Okay?”
I nodded my head.
“Finite blood. Say it.”
“Finite blood.”
“Hath the power to restore.”
“Hath the power to restore.”
“Finite blood hath the power to restore. Say it again.”
“Finite blood hath the power to restore.”
“Again,” she said.
“Finite blood hath the power to restore.”
“Again.”
“Finite blood hath the power to restore.”
“Keep saying it,” she said as she laid my hands on my chest and stood up from where she’d been crouched next to me.
“Finite blood hath the power to restore. Finite blood hath the power to restore.”
“Don’t stop, Skyy.” The woman began to creep backward, slowly taking one step at a time. “Keep going.”
“Finite blood hath the power to restore.”
“That’s my girl.”
The darkness consumed her as she backed away out of view, enveloping her as she disappeared into obscurity.
I repeated the phrase over and over as everything around me began to fade. Voices drifted in from somewhere outside the walls. They started as incoherent whispers and gradually grew louder. I stopped talking and tried to listen, to make out any of the words.
Someone was calling my name.