Chapter XI
The Undersky

   --- What? You haven't noticed?
   I shook my head negatively and vent my face with my hand: the temperature was particularly hot this day. In the back of the converting room, two dark shadows were talking, away from attention.
   --- I swear, continued Carminiel, there's something going on between those two: Jeru has been hanging around Cerjevi way too much lately.
   --- And, is that a problem, I asked while taking a look at the clock on the wall.
   --- As a matter of fact, yeah. Cerjevi has a boyfriend.
   --- Oh. Okay everyone, break's over!
   My crew---and my new friends---got back to work, rolling up their sleeves and carefully handling our precious soul-stew. We were at the end of a third week of work and we were still above the quota: the money supplement was quite welcomed, especially in those times of great need. Malakiel hadn't talked to me about the rebel group since the day I agreed to join but I rather not insist on the question. Strangely enough, I did not regret my act: it was time for me to do something with my life (even if it meant risking it) and I felt more alive than ever.
   We did indeed bash the quota this day, and it is not without a hint of pride that we all headed home after a hard day of work.

*****

   As usual, I met Mivelris on my way home. Seeing him covered with dirt and sweat made me realise we weren't as different as we thought...
   --- Heading up, mate?
   --- Yeah. How about you?
   --- I'm going over at Zhankiel's place, he said. I'm returning a book I borrowed from him a while ago. Care to join me?
   I accepted his offer with great joy: it had been a while since I saw my old friend, and I knew Kirveh could wait a few more minutes. We passed at the height of the floatation ring: this two hundred feet large ring circled the city and kept us floating. At this level of the citadel, there weren't any houses: the energy field produced by the mechanism in the middle of the core was unbearable to live with, so it is useless to say that people did not bother building habitations in it.
   --- Brrr, this thing gives me goosebumps, said my friend.
   I laughed and we got back into civilisation, after flying through the two hundred feet inhabited wide gap that separated the upper and lower city.
   --- What the...
   There was a huge hole on the side of Zhankiel's house, clumsily patched with wood planks. Debris still remained on the roof of a few houses below. Puzzled, I knocked on the door and Zana came to open, a discouraged look on her face.
   --- Malkeb, guys.
   --- What's with the hole, demanded Mivelris.
   Zana shook her head and let us in.
   --- This the kind of things your honourable teacher does when he's in a bad mood. A less than diplomatic reaction after a meeting with Danërael. If you feel like your lives are not worth anything anymore, he's in his office.
   Mivelris glanced at me anxiously and we walked to Zhankiel's office in silence. We passed in front of the sinister---only to find out that his fury had managed to destroy not one but three whole walls in one single shot. No furniture standing on the path of his anger had been spared.
   I was the one who dared knocking on the door---which I stepped away from as soon as I laid my knuckles on.
   --- It's Saelius, I said through the pane.
   A few seconds later, Zhankiel's face appeared in the gap and he stepped out, careful to close the door behind him.
   --- What brings you here, he asked on an emotionless tone.
   --- Came to bring the book back, whispered Mivelris with a tiny, frightened voice.
   It is true that seeing one of the most powerful Seraphims in a bad mood was quite an impressive scenery, but once you had come face to face with both a killer Virtue child an a six-hundred years old demented Angel-Spirit, nothing really bothered you anymore.
   Zhankiel's face loosened up and he invited us to the lounge, patting Mivelris on the back and saying there was nothing to be afraid of---anymore.
   --- I don't know what took me, admitted he, sipping on his now precious tea.
   --- What did he want, I asked, not taking care of Mivelris doing faces to prevent me from asking this dreaded question---now wasn't the time to piss him off any further.
   --- Get this, started Zhankiel, that no-good, snobbish and condescending nuisance---who doesn't seem to realise that he's talking to an Angel two ranks above him---forced me to hand over the totality of my father's researches on the Angel-Spirit!
   I gasped: not Nervanael as well! He tried once to talk some good sense into Nervy and it ended up in the loss of three diplomatic Angels! What did he want now?
   --- And, I stammered, did you give them to him?
   His handsome face was lit by a devious smile.
   --- You haven't seen the burn marks on the living room's wall, have you?
   I sighed in relief and Mivelris discretely moved away from him.
   --- Speaking of the Angel-Spirit, he continued while pushing a lock of black hair away from his eyes, I have a mostly bad news to announce you.
   I frowned: what now?
   --- I'll probably have to blow out the whole connection mechanism keeping Nervanael alive, he sighed.
   --- What?! I shouted, why?
   --- I have no choice, really... Danërael will be back to take those plans away from me. And when he does, he'll force Nervanael to join him, under torture. It's for the sake of the humans, believe me, Saelius.
   --- What a jerk, said Mivelris. And if he succeeds, if the Angel-Spirit really joins him, it probably means...
   --- ...That we won't have to wait for the Nemesis to be finished before launching the ten major attacks on the most populated cities of the globe, concluded Zhankiel.
   I banged my fists on the table, much at everyone's surprise: it was enough! It was time to take action instead of sitting down and talking over a cup of tea. I didn't want Nervanael to die---as contradictory as it seems---because I wanted him to know that someone cared for him. I cared for him: I knew how it felt to be left out, looked down on, rejected. If indeed the plug had to be pulled out, I wanted it to happen due to other circumstances than to avoid war.
   --- Zhankiel, I raged, not losing sight of his piercing green eyes, there HAS to be a way to save him. It's unfair to kill him after six-hundred years of suffering and loneliness!
   --- I'm sorry, but I can't think of any other solution, he sighed.
   I got up and started walking around the room: Danërael would not get away with this one. Not while I was alive.
   --- If you still have the plans and the researches' results, there must be something we---you can do: think about it! Can we actually free him without killing him?
   There was a long silent stretch. It was Mivelris who broke the silence first:
   --- I may be wrong, but a machine is keeping him linked to the Earth?
   I nodded and carefully glanced at Zhankiel, who was lost in thoughts.
   --- There's as much chance in succeeding in freeing him than hitting a mouse with an arrow from up here, started the Seraphim. It is a lost technology, Saelius: my father worked five years on finding solutions for his immortality and yet, the only texts I have contain bits of theory and hypothesis.
   --- It's better than nothing, commented Mivelris, sketching a formula on a napkin. You know why we can't understand old technology?
   --- No, why?
   --- Because it's too simple!
   --- What do you mean, demanded Zhankiel.
   --- Yeah, shoot Miv.
   My former roommate took a deep breath and explained how simple was the city's main systems, like the invisibility and thermal shield, as well as the floatation mechanism.
   --- You're good, said Zhankiel to Mivelris, amazed by his knowledge of mechanics.
   My Seraphim friend was now convinced that there was indeed a way to free Nervanael. I was relieved to hear it, and I felt very confident knowing that he would try everything it took to prevent Danërael from putting his dirty hands on the spirit of the planet. He asked Mivelris to work by his side, assuring he would find a good way to justify a few days off at the director of the core services. Happy by this turn of events, I figured out the best thing to do was to let the two of them alone to work.

*****

   The familiar and comforting sound of the siren announced the end of the work day at the soul factory everyone now affectionately called "the toaster". I was cleaning my wings in the locker room when Malakiel sat down beside me, aiding me in this meticulous task---now don't get me wrong, it was a perfectly common practice---and saying:
   --- There's a meeting in twenty minutes. If you'd like to join us, you're welcome.
   I didn't need anymore specifications and I quickly took care of my dirty wings before getting dressed properly. Malakiel, Jeruvehel and Cerjevi were waiting for me near the exit.
   --- Now, I trust you won't tell everyone about this, warned Malakiel. If we learn you spoke... well, I don't need to tell you what will happen.
   We took off and headed even deeper down in the darkest bowels of the city: the air smelled like burnt and I could sometimes catch a glimpse of the core and its intense activity. I pitied the people who had to live down here, in this racket and this stench. After countless detours and confusing shortcuts, we landed on a roof; Jeru looked around with worry and with a gesture of the head, confirmed no one had followed us. We then entered by a window into what seemed to be a long abandoned material deposit. The walls were dirty because of the moist and smoke-saturated air, the ceiling was rotting due to the humidity and nothing told there was actually people using this run-down facility.
   Cerjevi told me they hadn't chosen this particular spot for nothing: Angels fled uninviting places and sought higher and cleaner buildings. I wasn't any exception: this warehouse was ten times worse than my old apartment; I wasn't even aware that such facilities existed in Heaven.
   There was light coming from another room, thus, it is where we all headed there. There were about ten other Angels in the small chamber, lit by an uncertain hyxémel lamp: maps and plans were pinned on the walls, as well as various pictures and other official documents. In the corner rested all sorts of weapons, from military bows and combat knives, to elegant and light swords. The table in the middle was covered with paper and strange devices.
   Malakiel spoke to an Angel with a buzz cut and shifty eyes.
   --- He's our leader, Mikael, whispered Cerjevi, as if he was the head of some sort of sect. He didn't inspire me at all but I kept my mouth shut: I didn't want to look more suspicious than I already was.
   The crowd was strangely varied: there were men, women, youngsters and adults, from all ranks in the hierarchy. They all stared at me like if I was a government spy or something: I didn't like this place---and this feeling---one bit and I started regretting joining this movement. The so-called leader stared at me from head to toe before coming my way, followed by a now very serious Malakiel.
   --- So you wish to join the Skyquake rebel movement, hey boy. Do you have any good reasons why we should trust you?
   Oh brother, I said to myself. Where to start?
   --- Yes, I answered. And my name isn't boy, it's Saelius. Saelius Lalsaria. My reasons for joining? Well, you might want to put it that way: Danërael bribed my own brother into killing my parents, he captured the Virtue child---the last thing that was worth living for---and locked him up in Paradise, he turned the woman I love against me, he reduced my dreams to nothing and he's now after... a good friend.
   There wasn't a sound in the room. Visibly, I made a good impression.
   --- Sounds fair enough, added the so-called leader. Welcome in.
   He left for another room and everyone got back to their occupations. Cerjevi invited me to sit down on a wooden crate, while the others consulted plans of what seemed to be the lower floors of Paradise.
   --- I didn't know you had such a tough side to you, she giggled.
   --- Well, I don't... I'm just really fed up by this stupid revolution: things are going increasly bad and... you know, I want to do something. I'm not here for an ego-trip or a desire of vengeance. I just want to save humans.
   When she asked me who was this Virtue child I spoke of, I lowered my head and bit my lip. I told her the truth: how he accidentally killed his parents, the orphanage, his mysterious stare... and I realised how much I missed him.
   --- Why didn't you just adopt him? she asked.
   --- They wouldn't have let me: imagine, he killed his parents at five! What would I look like, a pitiful Archangel trying to discipline a super powerful Virtue---still half my size! And besides, it was too costly. He was happy at the orphanage, probably happier than he would've been with me.
   Mikael came back in the room, followed by a visibly exhausted and worried Angel, all dressed in black.
   --- Thanks to our best spy, here are the detailed plans and operation schedule of Paradise's north wing, where the Virtues are kept under the supervision of many researchers---and soldiers.
   The spy continued:
   --- From what I've seen, they're all well treated and they sleep in dormitories: they come and go as they please, but for specific hours. There are many training rooms and I am pretty sure that they'll accompany the first troops.
   --- Without the Virtues to quickly neutralise human forces, the attack will be much more hazardous, said the leader, thinking out loud.
   I listened to them talking about theories and plans with anger: we had to act fast! I knew how much Ismael hated general grown-ups and all that was related to authority figures: if he ever pulled a stunt like the one he did two years ago, they would certainly make sure he didn't do it again... perhaps he'd get killed or worse, given the same sort of treatment as Nervanael.
   --- What is holding us from freeing those Virtues? I questioned, interrupting the debate.
   Everyone stared at me as if I was a complete idiot.
   --- Things aren't that easy, Saelius, retorted Malakiel before the leader had any chance to speak. Paradise is well guarded---obviously---and there is no way we'll risk a frontal attack and all get killed. That'd be a total waste.
   I crossed my arms and decided not to interfere again. After almost an hour of useless speech, map consulting and squad forming, we were barely more advanced that at the beginning of the meeting. It was getting late and I was awfully hungry. Mikael finally concluded the reunion by reminding us that the fate of humankind rested on our shoulders.
   --- Does he do something else than talking, I asked Jeruvehel at the exit.
   He shrugged and tied back his orange hair.
   --- What do you want to do? It's foolish to think we can save the world, so might as well spend time here with chums, instead of sitting home and waiting for the inevitable to happen. In the meanwhile, take this and have some fun.
   He handed me a can of bright blue spray paint. I stared at him with surprise.
   --- We have to maintain our image, he explained. Danërael is doing all he can to mask our existence, so we have to be everywhere. If you wanna know what are our codes and symbols, I'll be around the Windy later this night.
   I looked at the can and told myself it wasn't such a bad way to get in touch with art again.

*****

   The look on Mivelris' face when I announced him that I was part of the all-mighty rebel group of Heaven was totally priceless. He stood there, with his mouth wide open, for at least ten seconds.
   --- Are you INSANE? he then shouted, literally shoving me inside his apartment with his strong grip.
   --- Hey, hey, shush Miv! You want the entire citadel to know about it? I told you because Dulciane isn't around---and because I know I can trust you.
   He walked around the little room and put his hand on his forehead, saying how much it was dangerous for such a little guy as me---who, I reminded him, was still older---and sighing like if it was the end of the world.
   --- Come on, I said, I used to be the one who forbid you to do stupid stuff. Having a girlfriend really got to your head!
   He laughed and gave me a big slap in the back. What he asked me after was beyond my wildest expectations:
   --- D'you...think they'd let me join too?
   --- Are you good with spray paint? I asked, showing the can.
   --- Am I ever!
   --- Then come on, we're going to decorate a bit this dull city.

*****

   --- Man, this is FUN! shouted Mivelris, while painting a big message---with two spelling errors---on a random wall.
   I quickly looked around, worried.
   --- Relax, boss, said Jeruvehel on a cool tone, no one's gonna get out: they know who we are and they're afraid of us. Your friend seems to be enjoying himself... too bad he'll make people think we're illiterate college boys though.
   Jeruvehel was happy to learn that I had---against my will---convinced another Angel to join Undersky. Mivelris was now covering a wall with a large black and blue symbol that was the mark of the movement. My wings were aching so I landed on a nearby rooftop and let them continue their works of art; I felt great, despite the numbing odour of paint. There was something enthralling with vandalising buildings for a good cause. I felt alive again, I trusted my hands, in those immense powers that flowed in my veins. I had time to think these last few days, and I realised for the first time what it meant to be an Angel: those eyes could see for endless distances, those hands could feel the invisible, the slightest energy variation and those ears could capture the subtlest sound in a crowd's cheer. Even covered in blue paint, those long, somewhat feminine hands could kill or heal; this thin, almost weightless hollow-boned body could land on a thin branch without breaking it. Never did I take the time to truly appreciate the luck I had: instead of filling my mind with futile matters and made-up worries like humans did, I learned the meaning of life, all the finest sciences and arts this Earth had to give, I freed my mind of all superfluous thoughts. Humans didn't know what it was like to take a leap in the void without the fear of gravity. They didn't have the joy of being able to access the most remote parts of their planet. I'd rather die than get my wings cut off: they were every Angel's pride, grand and agile but strong and resistant. The longest feathers easily reached the length of an average human male and came in patterns and colours that would've made any tropical bird jealous. We had a culture richer in history and exploits than any other on Earth. Even our language sounded like none other: for those few who had ever heard it, it was like a music with infinite harmonies.
   But it was easy to take all this for granted.
   --- Hey Sal, get your lazy wings up here! shouted Mivelris with a big smile. I thought you Altacian folks were great flyers!
   I laughed and told him we were great with speed but pitiful with endurance.
   Soon, the area was darkened by the dozens of somewhat pretty symbols in black and blue, our colours. Jeru, who was getting along awfully well with Mivelris, told us he'd tell Mikael about my friend's arrival. At least I wouldn't be the only one failing, I told myself.

*****

   I had two days off from work, as a token of my remarkable work at the factory. We jealously kept the secret of our performance to ourselves, but we were aware that we only contributed at making the wheel of destruction spin faster. That's why I promised myself to be the best recruit that had ever joined the Undersky movement. I was practising my calligraphy with some music on when a loud bump made me spill ink all over my paper. Kirveh raised his big pointy ears and, with a swift move, disappeared from the table to hide under my chair. Zhankiel stormed in, the biggest smile on his face, followed by Mivelris, who seemed as happy.
   --- Saelius, he shouted, folding his huge wings, you won't believe it!
   --- We made it, we made it, added Mivelris, grabbing me by the sleeve and forcing me to get up. Kirveh got out of his hiding place, probably recognising familiar scents and voices, and found refuge in my neck.
   Both of them were talking at the same time and as much as I wanted to understand, I could not.
   --- Woa, calm down, please! You sound like two over-excited children! Please, explain.
   Zhankiel got out plans and a bunch of little gadgets.
   --- We found a way to free Nervanael---without killing him!
   I was flabbergasted: I jumped in joy and hugged Kirveh tightly.
   --- But... added Mivelris, there's a slight chance that it mightn't work...
   I stared at him, mouth wide open.
   --- And the odds are...
   --- About fifty percent... mumbled my former roommate with embarrassment. We must do it now, before Danërael decides to try in convincing him again---the hard way.
   --- It's a risk we have to take, added Zhankiel, seeing my devastated expression.
   If anyone deserved to stay out of this conflict, it was undoubtedly Nervanael: moreover, if that wretched dictator laid his dirty hands on him and forced him to join his army, there wasn't an Angel nor human who could stand up to such destructive power.
   --- Let's go, I said, putting on my scarf.

*****

   The tracking device took us all the way to a vast ocean shore, washed by raging waves hitting sharp cliffs. Zhankiel looked worried and Mivelris was plain white: he knew that the success---or failure---of this risky operation depended on his mechanic skills. Once the Angel-Spirit was in sight, Kirveh left the comfort of my scarf and zoomed to his creator at an amazing speed: the former did not even look back when he caressed his animal amorously. We landed on the edge of the high cliff, in silence: I was the one who walked over to him, after taking a big breath.
   --- Malkeb, Nervanael.
   --- Malkeb Saelius. I was wondering if you'd ever come back.
   He was wearing his new suit and he made me think of a superb king, ruling over the wildest forces of nature. I presented him my two friends: Mivelris was visibly stunned by such power and Zhankiel seemed almost diminished by his side.
   --- So, started the Angel-Spirit, how is this war going up there?
   --- Rather badly, answered Zhankiel. And it's a bit why we are here.
   Nervanael eyed him suspiciously and said:
   --- You Ferles always were ambitious---and interested in me. But do go on.
   I wondered how he would react to our announcement: he was perhaps saner than what we thought, but still, he was known to have devastating mood swings. What if he didn't want to? I knew that the thing he wanted the most was total freedom, to be liberated from his chains: his life. He wanted his last rest, like a good night sleep after a hard day. Only, his hard day had been lasting for over six hundred years.
   --- Danërael wants to destroy humankind and basically take over the world so that we Angels can finally have our own land, said Mivelris, forgetting his fright.
   Nervanael closed his eyes and bit his lip.
   --- Blinded by power... how foolish.
   --- And he wants you, added Zhankiel on a serious tone.
   The Angel-Spirit turned around to face the demented sea.
   --- So you are here to kill me, are you not. I had to wait six hundred endless years to finally be killed---because of a war. How amusing.
   Great. How was I supposed to tell him that no, he would still live? I got closer to him and put my hand on his shoulder. I didn't know how he would react to my statement.
   --- No, in fact... we aren't here to kill you. I'm sorry but...
   He stared at me with his strange, uneven eyes: was he going to blow my head off of my shoulders?
   --- ...I won't be the one ending your long life, I continued. I believe that you can still enjoy existence. Give us a chance, please.
   There was a long silence stretch: only the roaring of the sea broke it. Zhankiel was waiting for a reaction, his long hair flowing in the wind and Mivelris let go of a sinister sigh.
   --- I don't know why they just didn't kill me back then, whispered Nervanael, looking utterly sad all of a sudden. I have nothing left to enjoy, Saelius. The years are so short when you're immortal: decades go by without you noticing them, days seem like minutes. I can't stand the sight of the sun's ceaseless parade but my body just won't die. I want to be tired but I cannot.
   --- ... I'm sorry, Nervanael. But I won't kill you.
   He suddenly switched expression and grabbed me by the collar: I heard Mivelris shriek as he lifted me above the ground with only one hand. His eyes...they were crazy!
   --- IF YOU DON'T, I'LL KILL YOU INSTEAD! he howled, his voice grander than the sound of the gigantic waves.
   I was going to die.
   His hand became dangerously hot and the ground beneath him started to glow. Such a beautiful, coloured sight before dying.
   As I was closing my eyes, I felt a huge gust of wind and my head suddenly met the soft ground which was pleasantly cold. I heard another loud voice speak in a forgotten language and when I opened my eyes, I caught a glimpse of my assassin, laid on the ground, trying to get up. He was visibly shaken but unharmed. Behind me was standing Zhankiel, with his wings spread and his fists smoking.
   --- You shall not kill, Angel-Spirit, he shouted, stepping forward to protect me.
   Mivelris rushed up to me and helped me get up.
   --- Are you okay, mate?
   --- ...Yeah, I'm okay. Let me go, I'm not leaving until we accomplish what we've come here for.
   I took a step in front of Zhankiel and offered my hand to Nervanael. He looked at me with suspicious eyes and finally reached out for it; I helped him get up, still feeling his magic through my body.
   --- Why are you doing this, he whispered. I'm hopeless...
   I turned around, just long enough to catch a glimpse of Zhankiel winking at me: I nodded and he took off discretely with Mivelris.
   --- Nothing's hopeless. Come, we have to talk.
   We sat down on the edge of the cliff.
   --- What are the extend of your powers, Angel-Spirit? I asked, to get his mind off of the attempted murder he just committed.
   --- I truly don't know and I don't want to know. The only energy of the sun is enough to make me blow this entire planet to smithereens, so it is useless to tell you more. I can show you though.
   With a simple gesture of the hand, he raised a crashing wave way above our head and instantly froze it in the air: every particle of water was motionless. The wave then disintegrated itself into a fine mist, blown away by the wind.
   --- Impressive, I said. You are aware that an obscure mind wants those powers for himself, right? And he will stop at nothing to get them. He'd torture you to the very brink of death, never letting you go. You are aware that you are a weapon of mass destruction to him, the ultimate chance to achieve his plan, to rid the Earth from a species he judges the only obstacle for his world domination?
   He lowered his head and I pursued:
   --- You have one last chance to give a meaning to your life. If you don't, your name will forever be associated with destruction, carnage, and apocalypse. You'll be named the Angel-Spirit of a dying Earth, the Angel of death, the only being who could make an entire race disappear from the surface of the planet in mere days. The tool for the biggest genocide ever seen.
   He was about to say something when the link connecting him to the anchor started glowing: he started screaming, debating for air. I heard Zhankiel's voice above me, shouting:
   --- Saelius! Get away, NOW!!!
   The sky darkened, the waves doubled intensity and the entire cliff started to shake. A bright aura surrounded Nervanael, forcing me to hide my eyes behind my wing. Zhankiel emerged from the thick layer of clouds, holding in his hand something that emitted a bright blue light: he landed just beside the dying Angel-Spirit and a terrible detonation occurred. I was thrown on the ground and a split second after, there was silence.
   It took me a while but I finally opened my eyes. Had they succeeded?
   --- Ngg... that's not of my age anymore...
   I turned around and saw Zhankiel, who had been projected even further than me. Nervanael was laid face down, on the ground, not moving: the grass underneath him was burned but the elements were back to their normal state. I got up and helped Zhankiel get on his feet; his entire sleeve was ripped and his fingers showed signs of heavy burns.
   --- Did it work, I asked, eyeing the Angel-Spirit.
   --- Of course it worked, he groaned, rubbing his injured hands. Can't you feel his aura?
   As a matter of fact, I could...it was different.
   Mivelris landed near us, his clothes stained by grease. A proud smile lightened his sweat-covered face.
   We walked over Nervanael. He sat down painfully, holding a blue cube in his hand. He seemed shaken, scared... which was understandable, he who almost died. Unfortunately for him, we had failed to kill him.
   --- Will this ever end... he whispered, hacks in his voice. Will this life ever end...
   --- You're free, Angel-Spirit, whether you like it or not, said Zhankiel. You own your power source. Don't lose it and most importantly, use it wisely. You are now truly immortal and shall it cross your mind to use your freedom wrongly, remember your duty towards life itself.
   He got up on his feet and I could feel in every inch of my body his wild, burning energy. Now that he had control over all things on this Earth, what would happen? What if he'd become his own demise?
   --- You are three noble souls amongst this foul kingdom, he said. You might have saved yourself the trouble of dealing with me in a future war, but I feel I owe you a favour. Mark my words: I'll aid you in your battle against the one who has sworn to annihilate humankind, but I will not become a weapon whatsoever. And as soon as this conflict ends, I will be the master of my own fate. Dare interfere with my will and I will not hesitate to take you with me.
   He looked at the sky and opened his magnificent wings. We let him fly away, aware that it had been over six hundred years since he last had the chance to embrace his very native element, the sky.
   --- A job well done, chums, whispered Mivelris, his miraculously skilled hands shaking.
   --- Indeed, added my friend, before letting go of a long sigh.
   We had won that part of the battle. It was now up to a little rebel movement called the Undersky to do the rest.

© 2003 Cab