Illium’s eyes had gotten round. He knew that was little angel food. He still liked it, but Raphael was an archangel. But Raphael was never mean to Illium’s mother. Not ever. Not even when she did things that weren’t quite right. Today, he’d drunk the milk, and eaten the cookies before he took Illium out for the training session.
Once, when Illium had said thank you to Raphael for being so nice to Illium’s mother, Raphael had stopped walking and crouched down so they were eye to eye. It stopped Illium’s breath to be that close to Raphael—his eyes were like blue fire and Illium could feel a pressure against his skin, like he could in the air right before a storm.
That day, Raphael had said, “You need never say such to me, Illium.” He’d cupped one side of Illium’s head, his fingers brushing Illium’s hair. “Lady Sharine has every claim on my loyalty, love, and care. She was a mother to me when I needed one most. Whenever she calls, I will come.”
Illium hadn’t understood all of the emotion in Raphael’s voice or face, but he’d understood that his mother had a history with the archangel. Maybe one day, he’d be old enough that they’d tell him about it. It was annoying being a little angel—but at least he wasn’t any longer considered a baby.
“Ugh,” he said as he struggled up the steep climb. He could’ve flown home, but Raphael always said that he couldn’t only be strong in the air—to be a truly well-rounded warrior, he had to be strong on the ground, too. Because otherwise, what would he do if his wings got wounded in battle and he fell to the earth?
Illium had no plans of being useless if he ended up groundbound. So he made it a point to walk as much as he flew. Sometimes, when the ground wasn’t this uneven, with craggy edges and sharp rocks, he even ran. But today, Raphael had made him do a hard training, and the ground was all broken up, so he was huffed by the time he made it to the top of the incline.
When a burst of light landed beside him, he bent down with his hands on his knees, his sword strapped safely to his back, and gasped. “Sorry. Training.”
Aodhan didn’t say anything, standing in quiet next to Illium until Illium could breathe properly again. He could see half of Aodhan’s legs and part of Aodhan’s wings from his bent-over position. His friend was wearing brown sandals, and his favorite old pants that had started out white but were now kind of a dull light brown, with small rips in them. His wings glittered like the stones in Lady Ariha’s necklace.
Light shattered off Aodhan, was drawn to him.
Though Illium was used to it, it was still kind of difficult to look at him in the bright sunshine. Playfully pushing his friend into the shade of a nearby tree when he could stand straight again, he said, “I think I see stars.”
It was an old joke between them, from a time when Illium had fallen and hit his head and thought he was seeing stars when really, it was just Aodhan leaning over him with the sun sparking off his hair.
The two of them found it hilarious.
But today, Aodhan didn’t laugh. His face was still and tight. Illium immediately stopped joking around. “What happened?”
Aodhan kicked at a piece of rock. “Can we go flying?”
Illium had intended to walk all the way home, but he said, “Where do you want to go?”
When Aodhan just shrugged, Illium said, “I know where we can fly.” There was a place his mother had shown him—a mountain field with lots of flowers and butterflies. Aodhan loved butterflies, even though he liked to pretend he didn’t. Illium didn’t tease him about it; teasing was for stuff that wasn’t important. Butterflies were important to Aodhan in some way.
They took off soon after. Illium couldn’t do vertical takeoffs yet, but they were at a high point near the gorge. So he walked to the edge of the massive split in the earth, and took off from there, sweeping down on the air currents, then rising up into the clear blue of the sky. The two of them still didn’t have permission to gorge dive, but this—using the lift created by the air cradled in the gorge—was allowed.
Illium didn’t complain when Aodhan flew much higher. Aodhan liked doing that because he attracted too much attention when he flew closer to the ground. Littles their age weren’t usually allowed at such high elevations, but Aodhan had been given special permission after Illium’s mother went and talked to the other adults.
Now, Aodhan was a spark in the sky.
“He is a little sun,” Mama had said one day, her voice dreamy as she looked up at the sky where Aodhan flew. “So bright and open and full of an inner light that I worry will be bruised by the world.”