Old Endings New Beginnings
It was raining. Hard. The sea raged war against the rocky edges of the shoreline and from a distance the clashing of swords echoed through the rocky plains.
Everything was a blur for Cairo. Most angels can't see very well in the material plane, as it was dimmer, grayer, darker than the heavenly plane the celestial beings were used to. The only thing Cairo had going for him at the moment was the fact that he wasn't as blind as the rest of them.
Exile helps with that if you wanted to survive.
He could practically feel Coral crying against the pounding of the raindrops. Water wouldn't mask the salty drops from the dark angel. Fear radiated off the girl-turned-woman like some kind of terrible aura.
Cairo flew forwards; his sword stretched horizontally, the blade barely touching his arm, before him.
Then he heard her scream, and his heart jumped. Fear turned to terror in so short a time span that he jumped along with the pumping heart. He found himself screaming along with her.
The next thing Cairo knew was that he could feel the pain. Could imagine the glimmer of wet silver stretched out to sink itself into the dark angel's flesh. The silver lining inserting itself over from one side of the right wing and into the other and then deep into Cairo's upper hip.
Diramid, the white angel, had them suspended in the air, upright for a moment, holding onto the hilt of his sword with one hand, the other gripping Cairo's forehead from behind like a mother with a feverish child. The look of utter pain found its way to the Fallen's celestial face. Diramid set his beat-up face resting on the other's shoulder, his breath hot in Cairo's ear. He shivered.
"The Fallen will always fall," he whispered. Cairo felt himself being pushed and he didn't bother to hide the scream emitting itself from deep in his throat when he also felt the sharp blade the short sword being pulled out of his hip and wing.
Diramid let go, and Cairo found some strength in himself to hold one of his hands to Diramid's blade wielding one while the other wrapped itself around the Healer's neck so that now the two males' faces were within mere inches of each other.
"I always said that you were coming down with me in every way," Cairo muttered.
The Dark Wing's russet eyes closed. A chant could barely be heard.
"Yaw yreve ni em htiw nwod gnimoc era uoy. Yad that edam esimorp eht ngief ot yaw on. Yaw yreve ni em htiw nwod gnimoc era uoy."
Diramid felt his strength leaving him, betraying him, and the next they both knew was the pounding water on their flesh, and the wind blowing heavily in their ears.
They hit the water and the earth and rock beneath that water. Diramid cried out in pain. A cry that was soaked up in water and bubbles. Panicking, he struggled, trying to get away from Cairo's grip around his neck. The angel already knew that Cairo would be dead, and if not dead then dying and in extreme pain. He also knew that the short sword he carried around with him was lost, broken, and probably gone forever. He just thanked whatever god was listening that it wasn't his Cavara.
Finally, he pulled away from Cairo and found his way toward the top of the ocean, already losing oxygen. Gasping –sucking in the air around him, as his head popped out of the water, he found a nearby rock big enough to stay upon while his wings dried and could fly again.
He would find the others later. He had no choice but to wait.
Hello? Cairo thought he had said the words out, but he didn't remember moving his lips. Is anyone out there…?