Choppily, he flew back up to face Lily, flapping his wings carefully to steady himself. He inclined his head to the terrace, a bewildered look crossing his face. "How do you stand on a solid surface?" he questioned. In all the years that he had been a Soul Angel, the thought had never occurred to him once. Lily chuckled.
"Focus all of your power onto your feet. Free the rest of your body from feeling. Allow yourself to return back to the time when you were once human, and believe that you still are to support your stand." Peter, still puzzled, shrugged.
"I'm too lazy to figure that out," he groaned.
"Or too stupid."
Peter scowled. "Anyway... may I tell you about my success?" Lily burst out into laughter. Peter pouted his lips. "It's bad enough I had to get beat up by Michael... I really wanted a new friend and all..." Lily's laughter weakened. She stood silent, awaiting Peter's feeble explanation. He cleared his throat. "Well, guess what technique I used on Taylor... oh! And put your perverted mind to rest, Lily. I did not mean it like that, and I know you were thinking it. The technique I was talking about was the same I used on my last target."
Lily thought over it. She rested her chin on her hand, concentrating on the last kill over a hundred years ago. Her eyes brightened as she found her thought. "You seriously used Surno's technique?"
"I made the technique, not big bad Surno! He just... took credit for it, I guess." He sighed heavily. "That doesn't matter anyway. My point is, I got the job done, whether or not it will take a few weeks to be fully accomplished. Her first symptoms were, oddly enough, a bad stomachache. Who would have thought it!" he chuckled loudly.
Lily smiled coyly. "Maybe you're not so useless after all,"
Peter returned the smile. "Maybe you're not so hard-to-get after all,"
Lily slapped him across the face, sending him twirling in the air. She creased her forehead. "Don't push it, Peter. Remember what I did to the last Soul Angel who tried to... 'acquire' me." Peter rubbed his face, drifting slowly back to his spot. He pouted once more.
"How could I forget? Isn't he still recovering, even after these past three hundred some years?" Lily laughed weakly, nodding.
---
Michael tensed as the presence of a Soul Angel crept into his heart. His eyes darted around the room, and he took a defensive stance before the seated Taylor. Her friends had joined her by pulling up chairs and stools to comfort her in that odd burst of sickness. Slowly, the presence grew stronger, and pulled at Michael's right. He turned to face the direction, meeting a white-winged Soul Angel. Something was... different about this one.
The newcomer was, or seemed, younger than Michael. He guessed around the age of eight. The baby face, tan and a bit chubby, surrounded light brown eyes and a small nose. A crop cut hairstyle sat on the boy's head. His attire was on the brighter side. A white t-shirt, decorated by three slash marks that crossed the chest, rested on the thin frame. Ripped white jeans dropped down from his waist to the bottom of his gray rain boots. Covering the t-shirt, a light gray rain coat with the hood pulled back lay.
"Who-" Michael began.
"Shh." The boy brought a tiny finger to his lips. "We aren't meant to be seen together, let alone communicate." Michael shifted nervously, calming down his tensed muscles.
"Well, who are you-"
"I am not a Soul Angel, I can tell you that much," the boy continued. His voice was high in pitch and sweet; however, the words he spoke held an air of authority and wisdom to their tune. "All will explained later. For now, I suggest you listen to what I have to say.""You may call me... Dan. There is a problem with your human over there. It is imperative that you follow my instructions carefully."
Michael nodded, eying Dan suspiciously. "What is wrong? I got rid of that assassin, no doubt." Dan grinned.
"Yes, I saw. We all saw. Nonetheless, the assassin got his job done. He placed what is known as a 'Soul Rip' upon her. The first symptoms vary from person to person, dependent on how pure their heart is and their energy level is. These I will explain later, when time graces us with its presence." The wind began to pick up, and the breeze shook the two violently. The humans did not feel it surprisingly. "There is only one way to cure the Soul Rip spell, Michael. All I can tell you now is-"
The wind started to roar. Dan brought an arm to shield his eyes, stepping closer to Michael. He looked like he was struggling. Michael, affected by this strange power in a more subtle way, walked to Dan. He reached out to grab him, but Dan pulled back, shock crossing his face. "You mustn't lay a hand on me! Explanations, oh how they nag at us! Everything will be explained later. But for now, you need to show Taylor the man who cast the Soul Rip!" Michael grew confused.
"How can I reveal myself, let alone another!?" he yelled against the screeching wind. Dan was struggling to keep his footing.
"Emotions!" he shouted. "Steal back your emotions. The one called Sur-" The wind blocked out the rest. Dan's mouth moved silently, desperately. Michael tried to reach out to him, but the gust picked up and took him away. Dan dissipated from his view. The wind left as he did.
Michael stood, breathing heavily, in the music-filled room. Everything sounded much more quiet than the wind. The cheers and banter surrounding the room was but a whisper to his hearing. With unanswered questions bothering his brain, Michael tried to deduce answers.
Soul Rip... that doesn't sound pleasant at all. 'Nonetheless, the assassin got his job done.' That obviously means that the Soul Rip will... He swallowed down a lump in his throat. Michael turned around to face Taylor and all of her friends. They looked so happy. They deserve life. I, on the other hand, did not. This was my fate; to watch over others, to preserve worthy lives, to save... I will protect them.
He cast a more focused look at Taylor.
"I will suffer for you," he choked out. "Pain shall never enter your life. Misery will never scathe your heart. There is life and boundless hope in you. If I have to break my own sanity to preserve yours..." Michael felt moisture build up under his eyes. Sadness must have been the only emotion left within him.
"...then I will. Happily." At some point in Taylor's conversation with her friends, she smiled. Michael smiled, too.
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