Undone by a Broken Angel

11.) Unearthed

“He reveals deep and hidden things; he knows what is in the darkness, and the light dwells with him.”

-Daniel 2:22

Samuel:

Samuel kneels in the dirt, his brush swipes away loose dirt with a flick of his wrist.  The bones he’s revealing are ancient and have him and his colleagues baffled.  They appear to be a homo sapien, but there are bones that are undoubtedly Neanderthal.  It’s exciting, unearthing history once thought lost forever and he wonders vaguely if anyone will find remnants of his people when they’re gone- and they will be gone, and soon, he thinks.  He doesn’t think so though, their settlements are well hidden by a force even he has trouble understanding.

He notices the smooth, smaller bones on the right.  These remains are female and she was a hard worker, judging by how worn down her lower vertebrae are.  She must have carried a lot of things in her short life.  Looking at the skull, he decides that she’s human- a homo sapien.  The skeleton on the right is much different.  Not only are the bones much bigger, but they’re not as straight and they’re shape tells him that this set of bones are male and that he was a Neanderthal.  What’s puzzling is the small set of bones between them, a child, who appears to be the offspring of both skeletons.  There have been no other finds like this that he’s aware of.  His boss has no knowledge of there being one either, so this is a great find, a site to go down into history.  At last, this is proof of Neanderthals and homo sapiens interbred.

He thinks about what this means, or could mean, in his life.  His species is almost done with simply because all the women have been done away with by the vile creatures he was created to destroy.  Before him, buried in the dirt for hundreds of thousands of years, is proof that one humanoid species could interbreed with another and he wonders if his own kind could do the same.  There are no written words against it, not that he’s read, but it’s been an unspoken rule since God created the falcone: humans belong to other humans, and falcone belong to other falcone.  Now that they’re almost extinct, he wonders if that rule could be done away with.  Could humans help save them?  It’s obviously never been tested before- no one had to put it to the test.  What would become of it?  Would the union of a human and a falcone create another falcone, just a human, or would it be a blend of both?  Would God allow that?  He thinks it’s a lost cause since the soul that resides in his body is a recycled one and humans get a fresh soul.  He’s not sure what God would do with an offspring such as that.

He sits back on his heels and wipes sweat from his brow and feels as though someone is watching him.  Looking over his shoulder, he notices Carole, his boss’ daughter, watching him.  He gives her a polite smile and she smiles back, wipes her forehead in a similar way, painting on a smear of dirt.

He chuckles at her; she goes red in embarrassment.  Turning back to his work, he ponders the child’s bones.  They couldn’t have been over the age of four when they passed.  What killed them together like this?  Starvation?  Dehydration?  According to the Bible, an important book to his people, he read that humans were made in God’s image and no other people came before them, so how is this possible?  The woman would have had the soul, but what about the male and their child?  Did they have a spiritual being inside them, or were they just animals?  And why would a human want to mate with an empty shell?

He chugs some water from his canteen, tasting the clear, clean water from the cool spring that flows nearby.  He’s in Romania, tucked in a cave in the mountains, where he was called to work.  It was a difficult decision to separate himself with his family- that’s what he’s come to call them.  He gave up on finding the girl long ago.  It just doesn't seem plausible to him.  It’s not that he doesn’t care, he just thinks it’s impossible for her to still be alive after disappearing during an attack.  There’s no way she’s still alive despite them never finding her body.   He gave up eight, maybe nine, years ago and since then he hasn’t heard from them, but he often thinks about where they are and how they’re doing.

Nathaniel, his stand-in grandfather, is the most stubborn person he’s ever met.  He suspects he’s still angry with him, and Samuel understands why.  Nathaniel clings to the past and fights to see it again, though they both know it’ll never happen- not in his lifetime anyway.  As their elder, they all look to him for “orders”- where to go, what to do, when to come home.  He hasn’t spoken to the old man in five years, nor has he gotten a bird from anyone since he told them he’s given up in finding the girl.  The old man never leaves Eden, he just sits around waiting for word from the younger men he bosses around.

Paul would still be grieving, he thinks.  He’s twenty years Samuel’s senior, a decorated soldier, humble, and quiet.  Sam concluded that he’s still depressed over losing his entire family when they were all still together after the last battle.  He doesn’t know much about the man, only that he’s honorable and a good friend.

David would be off looking for medical opportunities all over the middle east, most likely.  That’s where Sam hears the best medical achievements are being made.  He’s overconfident, but a good fighter.  It feeds his already inflated ego but it’s his brother, Abraham, that worries Sam.  Abraham is a very skilled man when it comes to weapons, coupled with the curse he carries, he’s a walking bomb.  Sam tries to keep his distance from him whenever he can.  Even though David has ten years on Abraham, they look exactly alike.  He can’t say where Abe would be, but he’s probably off somewhere learning about a new blade.

The last "brother" he thinks of is Joshua, the flighty one- and that doesn’t mean that he likes to spend most of his time in the sky.  He wants to prove himself and his uniqueness by writing poetry, drawing, and painting- gallivanting off into the sunset with a dramatic flair.  Sam suspects he’s somewhere in France with the free thinkers.

Sam misses them.

He notices that Carole is still staring at him.  Does she want to ask him about something?  “Find anything?” he inquires.

Flustered by his question, she shakes herself off and says, “maybe.”

He hears a double meaning in her words and brushes them off.  It’s not the first time a woman has taken an interest in him.  They say that he’s good looking, whatever that means.  He’s never had to fuss about his looks since the last battle he partook in.  Those days are hard for him to think about so he's blocked out most of the memories.  There was a lot of fear then, he knows, and a lot of praying.  Since then, he’s been great at praying, and still finds himself speaking to God on a daily basis.

“You?” she wonders.  Her blue eyes light up with curiosity, craning forward to try and see down into his dig site.  Her blond hair is pulled back into a French braid, he notices, and wisps of loose hairs cling to her sweaty neck and face.  Normally, women wear long skirts, corsets, and shawls- the layers seeming to be endless- but Carole is different.  She dresses in a corset, of course, but she switches out her skirt for trousers.  He’s never seen a woman in trousers before and he’s quite taken to the idea.  They hug her curves that are normally hidden by yards of fabric and he has to admit, even his eyes stray from his work.  He cannot entertain the idea.  Even though he’s slightly open to the idea of mixing blood, she’s much too young, at least twenty years younger than he is.  Besides, she wouldn't know what to think of his wings and that’s a conversion he doesn’t want to contemplate.

“Oh yes!  A child- it looks to be mixed,” he tells her proudly.  She launches immediately into theories, lit up in excitement, her dazzling azure eyes shining.  He gives her an amused smile and nods along as she speaks, not really listening.  He’s had similar thoughts.

After a long day digging, charting, and cataloging, they exit the cave.  The sun is setting and it throws soft tones over the landscape.  The high humidity raises in the cool air, creating a fog that hangs densely in the thick deciduous trees.  He breathes in the fresh air, loving the way the pine spells in the evening.  They walk in silence to camp where her father has already stoked up the fire to cook their supper.  The smell reaches him, and he groans internally- quail again.

They settle down in their chairs with a plate of food in hand and dig into their meal.  Quail.  Again.  He can taste the smoke on the meat as always, but he likes how the flames keep all the juice inside the crunchy exterior.  They also munch on some fresh baked bread John, his boss, must have gotten from the nearby village.  The bread is good at least.  It seems as though their meals are always the same.  He bets they’ll have porridge for breakfast in the morning and he can hardly wait.  He sighs.

“Everything okay?” John inquires.  “I thought you’d be in a better mood after all you found today.”  Sam can barely see his face in the darkness, but the flames cast a glow on his face and he can just see that he’s worried about his employee’s condition.

“I guess I’m just tired of the food.  Any chance we could get some beef anytime soon?” he wonders with a moan.  A steak would be heavenly.

“Not anytime soon, I’m afraid.  It’s still out of season and we don’t have any way of storing it,” John tells him regretfully.  

Even Carole groans.  She shuffles on her seat and Sam can see her pretty face in the light of the fire.  Their conversation is sparse from there on out and eventually she excuses herself to her tent for the night.

John is quiet for a time, but it looks as though he wants to say something.  He opens and closes his mouth repeatedly and Sam compares him to a fish out of water, trying to gulp in some non existent water for survival.  Sam is getting impatient, until finally, the man addresses what is on his mind.  “I can’t help but notice the interest Carole has taken in you,” he admits.

“You have,” Samuel prompts.  The girl hardly hides her feelings and so admits to knowing her interest as well, though he doesn’t know what John is getting at.  Sam would rather not make assumptions.

“She’s a bright girl, excitable, but young.  As her father, I have some concerns  that her interest maybe... returned,” he chokes out quickly.

“I see,” he muses, pausing to gather his answer.  “Carole is a lovely girl, and the man she ends up with will be a fortunate man, but I cannot be him, regretfully.”

John eyes him skeptically, but nods in understanding and doesn’t pry into the nature of his answer.  Grateful that the talk is over- one of the many he’s had in his forty odd years of life, he bids his boss goodnight, groaning at the thought of his usual breakfast.

He doesn’t make it inside his tent.  He hears the flutter of wings, much smaller than his brown ones, and notices a very tired raven coming down for a landing.  It lands and hops towards him with an ominous squawk.  It waits, eyeing him knowingly.

Only Abe sends ravens.

It has been so long since he’s received a message that he almost forgets what to do, but he takes the parchment from it’s talons as soon as he remembers.  He pulls the silky black ribbon loose, and the parchment falls open in his hand.

The light from the fire shines over this shoulder and he’s able to read the words: I found her.  Come home.

Well he’ll be damned.  Not literally, that would be impossible.  He thought the girl lost forever, but apparently the Queen had hid her well.

He’ll have to leave the team, just thinking about going home to his whole family gives him a headache and he already feels drained.  It’s a good thing he doesn’t keep many possessions, just clothes, his daggers, and a trunk full of notebooks.  He can leave the notebooks, they’re full of his scribbles about digs he’s been at- John can have them.

Just as he’s about to open the flap of his tent, his ears catch something shuffling in the dark, his grip tightening on the short message Abe had sent him.  His senses go on high alert- he takes a quiet step towards the sound.

He hears a soft sigh and then a guttural groan comes from inside Carole’s tent, the hairs on his neck and arms rising.

No.

He pulls the daggers from his cloak and rushes the tent, praying that the sounds he heard were his imagination, but he knows what it sounds like when a reaper sucks the soul out of a human.  Some memories cannot be buried.  Her father sees his rushed movements towards her tent and he’s instantly on his feet, a panicked look in his eyes.  The two men don’t say a world to  each other when Sam rips open the entrance.  She lays motionless in her blankets her chest raising and falling, but with a glassy look in her eyes.  Two dark figures stand to the right of her, a small shadow between them.  It’s too late- her soul is gone, consumed by the repulsive creatures.

Angered with himself, he throws a blade and it hits the tallest reaper in the chest with a satisfying thump, sinking into its flesh.  The two other figures scratch in anger and grief.  Can they feel grief?

Sam pushes John back and he moves to throw another dagger, but the other reaper rushes him and he’s forced to fly backwards out of the way, his large wings throwing dust.  John ducks, his eyes wide with shock.  The man pulls out a knife and Sam scoffs at how pathetic it looks.  There’s no way he’s going to get close enough to use it without him befalling the same fate as his daughter.  Sam will have to do the fighting on his own, but he’s worried about the small one, the child.  He knows what it is and he hopes it's too frightened to join the fight.  Perhaps he should have killed it first so it didn’t have to see it’s parent die.

He throws two daggers midair at the reaper that rushes him before his feet touch back down and sees one whiz by its head, the other sinks into its thigh, black blood oozes from the new wound.  It screams with it’s unnatural half animal, half human voice and pulls it out, throwing it aside.  

This seems to worry the child- the grim- and it hisses at Sam in warning, it’s small hands beginning to smoke.

With his feet firmly on the ground, he aims his next daggers at the grim and it side steps them much to his disappointment.  Sam hates small targets that move.  He rolls his eyes, trying again.

He loses focus on the adult and it swings a jagged sword at him.  He jumps back in time, watching the sword tip pass by his nose, just barely missing.  With the adult this close, he throws another blade and it sinks into its neck.  The reaper gurgles on it’s own blood, choking.  It falls to the ground, it’s fight draining from it’s muscles.

Just then, John comes back into play by slicing it’s neck just to make sure that it’s dead.  Sam can feel the fear rolling off him.  “What are these things?  And what are you?” he demands to know, but Sam cannot pay him any attention with the grim losing control of it’s fire within.  The death of his remaining parent pushes it over the edge.  The flames burst to life in it’s tiny hands and it cries out as he flicks them.  The first ball of fire lands on his tent and the flames catch in a blue blaze.

Sam grits his teeth.  He needs to end this before it gets too out of hand.  Literally.

The grim moves to throw another ball, Sam lets his last dagger fly.  This time it hits home in the grim’s forehead and the flames die away.  He lets out a breath of relief, but then he hears screaming behind him and they sound like John’s.

Sam spins on his heels to see John completely engulfed  in eternal fire.  He goes to work immediately, pulling on his body spirit to counteract the fire.

Luckily, Sam happens to be the best at body spirit manipulation.  Sure David is wonderful at the mind and heart spirits since he specializes in healing, but without the body spirit, no messages would be sent, no eternal fire would be extinguished, and no lust would be felt.  Grims may be rare in battle, but once in a great while, they have to stop their flames from spreading- their flames cannot be put out with water.  It’s too spiritual, just like the fire in hell.

Sam pulls on that spirit now and concentrates on suffocating the fire, it slowly grows smaller.  It takes effort- fire is so unruly- and it takes every ounce of his focus.  His stomach churns in worry for his friend, knowing that he’ll never look the same if he survives.  Sam notices the flames reducing.  Eventually, both fires are snuffed out, and he lets go of his spirit in a huff.

John lays motionless and he smolders, his clothes mostly burned away.  Assuming the worst, Sam approaches, and sure enough, he’s dead.  The cooked flesh smells like the quail they had for dinner, only better, and the correlation has Sam emptying his stomach in disgust.  

He knows what he has to do next and he’s glad David isn’t here to stop him.  Living without a soul is no way to live; the girl is gone.  He enters her tent and gazes at her young beautiful face.  It’s such a waste.

Nothing good comes from Abe, he thinks, remembering the ominous squawk of the raven he sent.

He plucks the dirty dagger from the chest of the dead reaper on the floor next to her.  Her eyes follow his movements eerily.  She’s gone, he reminds himself, and slices her throat before he can think himself out of it.  He watches her blood flow from the cut and then pools around her body, soaking into her pillow and blankets.  Her breath stops moments later and he feels tears fall from his eyes.

The humans who find this will wonder what happened.  At least the reaper bodies will disintegrate.

There is nothing left for him here and with the letter still somehow clutched in his hand, he has a duty to his people.  There’s a woman at last!  She’s a chance that his race could survive after all and he needs to go protect her.  He gathers all his knives in silence, tears streaming down his face for the failure he feels towards John and Carole.  He takes one last look at the camp, regretting not being able to save the humans he lived with, but satisfied that the reapers are at least dead.  Now they cannot harm another human again.  The mystery of the dig will remain that way and that will bother him in the years to come.

He takes off then, stretching his wings out for the first time in months and begins his long journey home.