The Gathering

XVI: Why We're Doing This

As the flash of light and the deafening sound dimmed, Jonah's senses adjusted to his new environment; he was lying face-down on a wooden floor, on his back he could feel the weight of two others... as well as the warm, tingling sensation of blood still running from an open wound. His face stung, he tried to assess the damages and concluded that either Muriel or Barachiel had broken his nose. The two weights lifted from his back as his two rescuers stood up.

The man, still clad in his armor and balaclava, offered Jonah his hand. Jonah struggled to get to his feet, the pain in his lower back had become like a throbbing toothache. The adrenaline had worn off. Jonah then scanned his surroundings, and he couldn't believe it. He was in the same room from his horrible nightmare... dark cherry wood slats covered the octagonal walls, running horizontally. He lay in the center platform, flanked on all sides by ascending tiers of wood in all directions. He noticed three differences, though. The first – and most marked – was the absence of flame, ash, and cloaked figures. The second was that the empty void above him had been replaced with an ornate stained-glass window, though he could not tell what was beyond it. The third was the door on the upper tier, ajar – he wasn't trapped this time.

"I've... been here before." Jonah muttered, wiping blood from his fractured nose. "In a dream..."

"Yeah, that was us." Said the female figure, taking off her balaclava. Jonah did not recognize her. Her hair was shoulder-length, straight, and black. Her brown eyes accented her olive skin.

"What do you mean, 'it was you?'" Jonah turned to look at the girl, "Who are you?"

"Johanna." She stated plainly.

"I'm Jonah – but you already know that, I guess."

"Well, the new recruit there sure does." Johanna gestured towards the man, who was now removing his balaclava.

"Yeah... surprise!" the man sarcastically said. The balaclava's removal had revealed his striking green eyes and rounded nose. He combed his short, dirty blonde hair with his fingers.

"Michael?" Jonah couldn't believe his eyes.

"At least they didn't fully wipe your memories." He pulled Jonah in for a hug, roughly clasping his hand on Jonah's lower back, which elicited a muffled shriek. "Oh, shit!" Michael saw that his hand was now coated in thick blood. "That looks deep... Jo!" The girl took a look at his back, slowly lifting his blood-soaked tourist shirt.

"I got it," she confidently said, putting her hands onto the wound, making Jonah flinch. "Good thing you brought us back, I wouldn't have the energy if I did." Jonah could feel a warm touch on his skin, it soothed the pain slightly as his mind continued to race. "Hold still..." Johanna whispered. She concentrated, her eyes glowing a pale white as they closed, as if she was gathering. The layers of skin, muscle, tissue, and even a glimpse of bone started to close in on themselves. Jonah felt a dull tingling sensation as his shattered nerves and blood vessels rebuilt themselves. Her eyes opened to see nothing but scar tissue where the bone-deep wound had been. "All better!"

...

Lightning roared back through the sky, impacting Beulah's docks. Barachiel and Muriel came into view. Barachiel was unharmed, his imposing demeanor rivalled by the anger in his eyes. Muriel was regaining consciousness; her right shin had begun to bruise and swell. The male cadet, however, was not present. "Medic!" Phanuel called, seeing the condition of Muriel's leg. "What happened?"

"We have more... interlopers." Barachiel strode away from his injured comrade in the direction of Gabriel. He arrived at Gabriel's study in a matter of moments, barging through the door.

"We have heard the chatter of the empaths, what happened?" Gabriel stood behind his desk, having been anxiously awaiting Barachiel's return. "How are the cadets?"