Guardian: The Guardian Part 15

"What! And he kissed you! What a jerk!" She explodes, and I bite back my smile.

The bell sounds then, signifying the end of lunch break. I'm glad to have spent the alone time together. We both really needed it.

After the last cla.s.s, I wait outside the school's main doors for my best friend to appear. She soon joins my side, laughing at something funny one of the guys with her must have said.

"Ready?" I ask her, and she nods in agreement.

"Bye guys," she calls over her shoulder as we rush towards the other bus stop opposite the road. I texted dad to let him know that she is coming, but wouldn't stay long.

So when we get off the bus and walk the short distance up the road, he is not surprised to see us.

"Hallo girls!" He calls, as he sc.r.a.pes off part of the old window sill from inside the bedroom. Grandpa puts out his hand to say hallo too. Grandma then comes from the back of the house and greets us.

"This is my best friend A.M." I promptly say.

"What?" Grandfather asks puzzled.

"Anne-Marie!" She says to him.

"Are you feeling okay today?" Dad asks, stopping his scratching and scrutinizing my face.

"No she is not," Anne-Marie b.u.t.ts in even before I can respond. "She looks like she barely sleeps!" She says, and I stick out my tongue at her.

"Are you not resting well?" Dad asks, not bothering to wait for my response. "Maybe you should get a break today. Go do something with your friend." I open my mouth to protest, but Anne-Marie giggles out excitedly.

"Yeeiy, perfect! We can walk over to Rundskov Park. It is just a 10 or so minute walk away!" She rushes on excitedly.

"Perfect, and maybe you can finally do some homework, for I know you haven't had time for it." Dad finishes off. The notion makes me happy, I would love to visit the Epitome, and what he said about my homework is right on point.

"Are you sure you don't need my help today..?"

"Go on, before I change my mind!" He says. I do not need much more encouragement.

Anne-Marie and I follow the main road for a short while, before branching into the forested area from a different place than I had the first time I visited the park.

The Essence is even richer here than back at our house in R. I bask in it, inhaling deep and long. Anne-Marie's hand is hooked into mine, and she looks up at me smiling, her beautiful warm grey eyes twinkling in turn.

"You are glowing, Caroline!" She exclaims, b.u.mping into me playfully. "You really needed this, huh!"

"Yeah, I think I did," I admit to her. We make it to the clearance of the park, and I pause momentarily to admire the view.

"It's beautiful!" She says, tugging me forward. I jerk forward to follow her and we find a spot where delightful slightly warm sunrays stream in. She plops herself onto the ground, ignoring the park bench beside us under the shade. I do the same.

I pull out books from my bag, and start with last week's essay on traffic accidents in Denmark, in Danish! Great! I take out my iPad and start typing away, using my phone's network as a Wi-Fi hotspot to research online. Anne-Marie works silently beside me, pouring over some math problems we received early this morning.

I don't need to look up to know that an angel has sat on the bench beside us. When Anne-Marie doesn't react, I know that the angel has placed himself in the other dimension. He is invisible to her. I look up and meet his bright green eyes with warm orange speckles.

Great! Azrael must be my babysitter for today! However, I do not feel the anger towards him anymore like before. In fact, I think I have come to like him. Yes, I know, I'm terrible at keeping grudges!

"And hallo to you too," he says to me, giving off a cheeky smile. A quick glance at Anne-Marie's head still bent over her math problem confirms that she cannot hear him. I nod at him in response, and then bend over my work. We work in silence together for about an hour, spread flat under the wonderful warm caress of the sun's rays.

When Anne-Marie is done with her homework, she places her books back in her bag, takes out her sun gla.s.ses and then turns to lie on her back, facing the sun. She lets me work on in silence for a few minutes, but then she starts getting restless, shifting her position every other minute. I know my friend well enough to know she does not want to play boring anymore. I finish up what I am working on quickly, and then set my stuff back in my bag.

When I look up at the park bench again, I see that two more angels have joined the angel of death. They are the ones I met my first time at the park. The same ones that had flown past me the Sat.u.r.day we'd gone fishing. They are just as big and strong as my angel entourage, but they do seem different, in the presence of Azrael. Like all the rest in my entourage seemed different in the presence of Raphael.

"You mean when we first saw her, she was just pretending not to see us?" The female one is asking in disbelief.

"She is a very good actor, Araqiel!" Azrael says to her, and I roll my eyes at him, turning instead towards my friend.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" I ask. She promptly jumps to her feet, and I laugh lightly. "I guess that's a yes!" We pick up our bags, and turning our backs on the angels, walk towards the other side of the pond.

I am not scared of the angels, now that I know they don't want me dead. I have also never seen them harm a human, so I feel confident in the fact that they would not harm my friend. Like the teenage girls we are, the conversation soon turns towards boys, specifically Mikkel. I let her vent, that is what good friends do, even though I am bored out of my mind.

We walk up to a wooden bridge built over the middle of the small pond. We walk up to it, and stop in the middle, bending over the railing and looking at the water below. She continues talking about Mikkel, something about a party once where he declared her the prettiest girl in town, or something like that. I do not pay much attention to her, just remembering to nod once a while, whenever it feels necessary to do so.

I instead stare at the beautiful view in front of me, wishing I had my sketch pad with me. The lovely golden glow settling over this park is exquisitely breathtaking. How can such a beautiful place exist in the world? I inhale the heavy air, like a drug addict getting his. .h.i.t, and feel the Essence travel through every inch of my body.

Exquisite!

"..Will you come with me then?"

"Mmh..."

"Caroline?"

"What?" I snap out of it, realizing I'd been asked a question. Anne-Marie frowns at me.

"Will you come to Aarhus with me Sat.u.r.day, for dress shopping?"

"Oh! No I can't," I answer her. "My weekends, sadly, are all accounted for until the house is complete."

"Oh! But I need you to help me pick out the perfect dress for Mikkel's birthday party!" She pouts. d.a.m.n, I must have missed a lot of this conversation.

"Ask Charlotte, besides she has better tastes in clothes than I do."

"Charlotte can't this Sat.u.r.day, I told you!" Uh-oh.

"I am sorry, I can't either. But I'm sure you'll find a perfect dress." I say apologetically.

"I'll just go with mom," she shrugs.

We start making our way back, as her bus is in twenty minutes or so.

"Do you have a dress?"

"A dress for what?"

"For Mikkel's party! Goodness Caroline, were you even listening?"

"Of course I was, but no I don't have a dress because I don't wear dresses. Besides, I haven't been invited."

"You have been, on Facebook. You just haven't responded yet." Oh great Facebook, I think to myself. I am the worst at Facebook. I rarely log on unless absolutely necessary.

"When is it again?"

"The second Sat.u.r.day after this one. What will you put on?"

"Some good pair of jeans?" I say questioningly, for I am not sure what the right answer is.

"You are impossible! You need to show off those s.e.xy legs in a dress!" She exclaims, and I hear the rich laughter rumbling from Azrael behind us!

My face burns up in embarra.s.sment.

"No thanks, my 's.e.xy legs' like to be in pants or shorts," I mock her, and she rolls her eyes at me. We make it back, and she just has time to say goodbye to my family, before the bus drives by.

"See you tomorrow!" I call with a wave.

I am tired, my head throbbing from the exhaustions from last night, but I still push myself and help out with the windows. We work on them all four of us, after a dinner of barbecued marinated chicken. It stays warm and dry into the evening, as we finish up the windows.

"Tomorrow, a concrete contractor shall come at 2pm," dad says, as we are busy clearing all debris from the floor. "I have asked off from work at 12:30, so that I can come and receive them."

"Ok," I respond, sweeping up some dust into a dust pan.

"After school, just go directly home. And you too, mom and dad, do not need to come."

"I want to come," grandpa says, picking up small pieces of paper lying on the floor.

"Alright, I'll be home at about 12:45, so we can drive off together then."

"I will make you food packs, for I don't know how long you two shall be out here," grandma, miss ever-perfect wife puts in. I laugh quietly to myself.

"That will be great, mom," dad says supportively. I fall asleep almost immediately we start driving. Back home, they let me take my shower first. I then fall right back to sleep on my bed, after pulling on some flannel pants and a T-shirt.

A gentle shake jolts me out of my slumber.

"Oh no!" I groan, when I look into the glowing green speckled eyes.

Chapter 19.

"What now..?" I start, but get no chance to finish, when I am quickly s.n.a.t.c.hed out of my bed.

Azrael has of course never discussed my fear of heights with Raphael, because he holds me with my back against his chest, and I have to force my eyes shut so that I do not look down at the nauseating receding view as we soar up into the skies.

There is something in the air, or at the rate by which Azrael's heart is beating against my back, that makes fear creep into my veins. He is scared, and whatever can scare the angel of death is definitely cause for me to panic.

He suddenly swerves sharply to the left, and my eyes fly open in surprise despite my wishes, only for the view of the long distance to the ground to shock a scream out of me. Azrael tightens his hold of me rea.s.suringly just as I manage to shut my eyes again. The wind slaps against my features painfully as we are now flying across its current, maintaining the same great speed as before.

Just when I've recovered my breath again, I let out a terrified shriek when Azrael quickly shifts his left hand holding me for his right, as I momentarily remain suspended unsupported midair! And then almost immediately, I hear a sword being unsheathed and his left hand appears, with his long glinting double-edged sword in it.

I see the opponent's sharp sword before I see him. It swerves into view right before my eyes, a silver coloured death-bringing blade that whispers as it cuts across the air, gleaming against the moonlight.

I gasp at the glinting black eyes glaring back at us, right before the loud clang and the vibration that rocks us as blade meets blade with great ferocity. It's clear that Azrael is at a great disadvantage, having to hold onto me with the other hand, shield me against the blows with his wings and still keep us afloat.

Over and over again the blows are swung, each time the ricocheting rippling through me hard, though Azrael harbours the worst of the blows' after effects.

There are moments in life when fear ceases to exist, moments like this when there are so many things to be afraid of, that there's no more reason for fear really. When there are so many factors acting against one's well-being that there's just no viable reason to attempt at optimism, all that's left is sheer unwarranted bravery to push through it all.

But if by chance you should come out on the other side unscathed, all the more reason to attempt at such blind bravery. Right? I mean, I could fall and die. I could get my head hacked at by that sword, and die. And even if Azrael should win this sword fight of which he's at a disadvantage, I could die at the next one in this war of theirs. Or even if I should manage to survive this civil war of theirs, chances are I'll die when they leave, for being labelled a portal does not sound like it has a high mortality rate.

Azrael's blows get weaker just as I thought they would, and so I decide to let out my panic in waves, hoping that those raging emotions the angels have been complaining about will guide them faster to our position.

My heart stops yet again, when I see the opponent's sword swerve low from my right, aiming his blow at me. Now I know I'm dead, for the blow is too far right for Azrael to block. For however fast he may be, his opponent is just as fast.

But just before the sword cuts through me, Azrael lets go.

He lets go of me!

"Help! Azrael!" I scream at the top of my voice as I free fall, my hands flailing around me, desperate for something to clutch at- anything.

I can't believe he let me go! My mind is a whirlwind of panicked emotions, as all semblance of bravery gives way to desperation, incessant screams tearing from my throat.

But from nowhere, a figure suddenly flies into my view below, and unmistakable silver wings span out as I land hard, smack on his back. His wings arch outwards and upwards, forming a form of enclosure to keep me from slipping off. I however have to hang onto his neck for dear life, because the Archangel twists this way and that way, as he delivers and counters hard ricocheting blows.

I stop screaming at some point, my arms numb as they clasp tight around his neck, probably choking him, while my eyes adapt to the darkness around me, for I'm too scared to close my eyes anymore. Imagine that, being so scared that I'm no longer acrophobic.

My wide open eyes from terror take note of the five or so angels that I have never seen before surrounding us, fighting the two angels I know. The opponents are flying around us, attacking from every direction.

To rea.s.sure myself, I tell myself that Raphael is called Archangel for a reason. He is probably a more skilled fighter, right?

I feel another angel unexpectedly swoop in lower from above, and I instinctively press even harder against Raphael's back.

"Jump off, princess," Azrael's voice booms from above me.

What? I think to myself, panic racing through me.

"No!" I scream out in answer, and remain lying low and flat against Raphael's back, my hands clasped around his neck and my feet hugging his stomach area. My thighs burn from been grazed by the tough feathers where his wings attach to his back, but no way I'd willingly jump off to my death.