Cay spread his pure angel wings and took flight. He was a young guardian angel. His shoulder length locks were white like his wings and his eyes were a deep turquoise. Around his body, hung a toga with a sash studded with sapphires and emeralds.

Flying along side was a golden hawk with striking eyes and a strident cry. This was Westler, a hunting hawk. Cay normally told Westler to look for his hostess, the one whom he must guard, Frieda. He took flight because of some trouble that seemed to come up.

“Frieda… what did she do this time,” Westler said. His voice was soft and delicate.

Cay did not respond. He was getting ready to land; he folded his wings as he touched the floor beneath him. Glancing around, he knew Frieda was close by.

Closing his eyes, he relinquished his angel form. His white hair turned mousy brown. He wore jeans and a blue collared shirt and the wings that gave him flight vanished to the eye of a mortal. On his ears, now slightly pointed, was a small snake, Westler. Cay wore no shoes, leaving his feet exposed to the light. Only his eyes remained the same.

Laughter filled the air nearby, cruel laughter. Rants and insults emerged from the area. Instinctively, Cay ran towards the vicinity. There, Frieda, only five years old stood, flowing red hair, tangled in a mess and her face stained with tears. One man stood up next to her and punched her in the side and a loud snap sounded. Frieda screamed and fell to the ground.

Cay ran to the aid of Frieda and uttered a single word, “Silence!” The crowd fell silent, but the one man who had punched Frieda stepped forward.

“You have no business here. Leave now,” the man said.

Cay stared into the man’s eye, and the man shivered and collapsed out cold. The crowd slowly dissipated soon afterward, leaving the man unconscious on the ground. Cay lifted Frieda up and took flight after the last person had left.

Frieda startled said, “Who—who are you?”

“I am your guardian,” said Cay patiently.

“What are you?”

“I am an angel”

“What do you want?”

“I want nothing from you, child. Patience…”

Frieda woke up. She had been dreaming of that angel again. Who was he? Sometimes she’d call out to him, but never hear a reply. It was a distant memory of seeing him that time. All the time, she never believed it was a real memory, never.

A loud bang sounded and next to Frieda appeared a note; on it was a pure white feather. The note said:

To my dear Frieda,

I have been suspended from the area of guarding you .You will fend on your own now since you no longer need me. I had protected you for a long while.

Cay

“Since when had he helped?” asked Frieda to herself. At that moment, a feeling of having her insides struck her, and she passed into unconsciousness.

She awoke in the hospital, with her chest bandaged and her head covered in a wet cloth. She took a breath and was caught by a fierce shock.

A doctor came in and said, “This will end your pain,” And injected, into Frieda’s skin, a needle. His eyes flashed dark red in flame, but soon died out. The last thing she heard was laughter, dark laughter.

Frieda vision became fuzzy, and she faded into nothing, all with a thought in her head, “What a fool I was not to believe in Cay.”