The_Legacy_by_Mychael_Black

Chapter 2-3

Evan settled into his chair by the table in the tower. William puttered about, chopping here, peeling there, throwing bits of various foods into the cauldron over the fire. He was insistent on cooking, and Evan was more than content to let him. Evan’s mind wandered in a thousand directions at once: thoughts of John, thoughts of the prophecy, memories of a life before. He shifted in the chair. At times, his back itched where his wings had once been. He watched the flames dance in the hearth, darting around and under William’s cauldron. Soon his mind cleared, and his gaze softened.

Then he appeared again.

Evan stared, utterly entranced, as the image in the fire moved. The man turned around, and Evan saw the traces of coal black hair as they fell halfway down the man’s back. His body was firm and strong, and he looked to be quite young, perhaps twenty-five in his years. He turned once more, and their gazes locked. Even through the fire, even through the centuries between his time and the man’s, Evan felt the heat of that stare. It pierced his soul like nothing he had ever known. Then the man’s lips curled into a smile, and he whispered Evan’s name.

“Evan?” William’s voice broke the trance.

Evan shook his head, and the image disappeared. He looked up at William. “Did you see him?”

“See who?” William set a bowl of stew in front of him.

“I saw him, Will,” Evan said, glancing back to the fire. “I saw him as clear as I see you.”

William narrowed his gaze. “Perhaps the Archangel has answers?”

Evan sat silently for a few moments, then shook his head once more. “Maybe.” He sat up and blew on a spoonful of stew.

Evan glanced periodically at the fire all through dinner. When they were done, he stood and went over to it. When he crouched down and waved his fingers through the flames, a small one appeared in his upturned palm. He blew gently on the flame, and it grew taller. With another exhale on it, he set it down on the floor. William made a move to stop him, but Evan waved him away. Evan stepped back and watched the flame grow taller, until it nearly reached his own height of six feet. Then it began to change form.

“Evan,” the form whispered aloud.

Evan reached out and slipped his fingers through the flame. For the first time in all of his existence, he felt the true heat of fire. It was painful not to his skin, but to his very soul. The man smiled, and Evan watched breathlessly as a hand surrounded in flames rose to touch his face. The ache in his soul grew, and the feather-light, fiery touch brought his head back up to meet the verdant intensity of the man’s gaze. With a final smile, the flame flickered out, leaving Evan breathless and thoroughly disconcerted.

“Did you do that?” William asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Evan shook his head. “I was merely playing with the fire, but what you just saw was not my doing.”

“I heard a voice. It said your name.”

“Aye,” Evan whispered.

“But how would it…he know your name?”

“I don’t know,” Evan admitted.

“Either way, I’m just glad you didn’t set the damned floor on fire.”

Evan chuckled. “I’m more cautious than you give me credit for, Will. Believe me, the fire I control will only cause destruction if I bid it to do so. Otherwise, it’s perfectly harmless so long as it’s felt my touch.”

“That explains how you can have a lightning bolt shoot through your body without leaving so much as a damned singed hair,” William mused.

“Another of my innumerable charms.”

William stood. “Well, I’m to bed. I assume you are not?”

“No, not yet,” Evan said, staring once more into the fire.

William nodded and gripped his shoulder before disappearing up the steps.

“Who are you?” Evan whispered under his breath.

“Your time here is growing short.”

Evan turned. “Am I to leave then?”

The Archangel shook his head. “No, you will not leave this world. But you will soon leave behind the life of a mortal, Kaliel.”

Evan winced at the sound of his true name. It was not one he was proud of any longer. The Archangel moved, and the tips of the enormous wings brushed over the rushes strewn on the floor.

“What am I to become, if not a mortal?”

Michael smiled.

“You will meet someone soon who will change your life. The choices you make from here on out will affect your petition. The time will pass quickly for you, although it may not seem as such.” Michael walked up to Evan. “You will experience things you have never known. For you to be granted entrance to my kingdom once more, you must walk through the fires of Hell itself. You will be reborn once again.”

“How will I know this man if I do not even know his name?”

“You will know,” Michael said. “And when such time comes, you will experience things as a mortal man would. You wanted power, Kaliel. You have been given the power to feel pain. Use it well.”

Evan watched silently as the Archangel faded away, the warning still lingering in the empty air.