Damon stretched out his hands and closed his eyes. He found it was the easiest way to block out all distractions. The stream was there, ever-present, incessant, and thrumming with life. The moment Micah had shown him what he was, he'd stopped fighting it. He let it take over him. The thousands of small voices welcomed him with open arms, swallowing him up. He belonged here. It was the first time in his life he belonged anywhere.
He knew Micah worried he was doing too much, but he didn't understand. Being here, tuning into Nature's fluid language, changed who he was. The power coursing through his veins didn't feel foreign anymore; it felt like it was the real him. The person he was intended to be.
He gathered what he needed to know the soil. The earth was ready to excavate. A new underground tunnel was to be dug just east of the property. Even with the foundation laid, Vern had informed him during lunch that Trent had seen something else in the blueprint-a tunnel. He thought at first it was an afterthought, but the more Damon communicated, the more he realized this was meant to be. It was a secret compartment, one that wouldn't be visible to the average person. And looking at the lay of the land now, Damon knew exactly where the tunnel led. Right to the last chamber of Enoch's underground temple. A place he longed to go to again, but since they'd retrieved the stone tablets, Micah informed him the last chamber was once again sealed. Just need to get Caitlyn here. She can open it back up.
If he was honest with himself, it was more than curiosity calling him back there. Every step he'd taken into that temple that day had felt like he'd been peeling back a layer of time. Each level had pricked his memories, whispering its familiarity. Damon shook his head. The strangest part was he had the uncanny feeling Gabriel had watched him the entire time-as if waiting for him to say something. And Willow. She sees something she's not telling me.
"Pretty impressive," Micah said from behind him.
Damon's eyes popped open. He hadn't realized he'd still been conversing with the soil. Coming back to the present jarred him. Micah stepped up next to him and peered down into the deep hole in front of them.
Micah whistled. "Wow, Trent sure about this? Thought we already did all the underground stuff. This thing's massive."
"The ground didn't protest, so yeah, I think he's right about it. Besides, I think you know more about this than you're letting on."
Micah chuckled. "Who? Me? I learned long ago not to keep things from you."
Damon grunted. "If only that were true."
Micah kicked a bit of dirt and sent it cascading down the drop-off. "Okay, I give. I know where this goes."
"Chamber nine," Damon confirmed. "But why?"
"We'll need it one day. I don't know everything yet, but whatever those plans say to build, we build."
Damon nodded and when Micah remained silent, glanced over. "Something else on your mind?" he asked.
Micah met his gaze. "I think we don't have as much time as we thought before. You and I might need to start doing something different sooner rather than later."
"I speak many languages, but riddles are not one of them. Do I need Trent to translate?"
Micah grinned. "Damon, Damon. You're one in a million. Literally."
Damon grunted. "Just tell me what you need me to do."
Micah sobered. "Remember The Watchers? The Fallen angels buried in the earth?"
"How can I forget?"
"Seems it's time for them to start facing their Judgment Day."
Damon squinted back at Micah. "You mean, we go find them? Unbury them?"
Micah nodded. "We give them their choice... and if they choose wrong, you destroy them."
"Me?" Damon asked, his pulse pounding in his ears. His fingers twitched. A rush spread over his body. The elements around him whispered, "Yes, yes, you. You are the one to undo the binding. You are more, Damon. Stop fighting who you really are."
Damon met Micah's gaze. He seemed to be waiting for him to speak so Damon asked, "Why me?"
Micah grinned and clapped his shoulder with his hand. "Why any of us? Because the Captain knows you can do it."
Damon nodded. He knew there was more to it than that. Micah knows it too.
"Damon," a soft voice whispered.
Damon stirred, rolled over, and mumbled for the voice to go away.
"Damon," it whispered again.
He figured it was something in his room trying to communicate, but he was tired. Hadn't he put in a full day already? Hadn't he given everything he could physically? He opened his eyes. Recognizing which language he needed to use, he murmured back, "Can it wait 'till morning? I'm still mortal you know."
"Yes, we know. Mortal for now. But do not forget who you really are."
There was that phrase again. It was like everything around him kept telling him to remember who he was.
He bolted up, determined to know why. "I'm Damon. I know the pure language of Adam, the language Enoch spoke. I can command the earth, the elements. I know who I am now. Why do you keep telling me this?"
"You will need to know. You will need to know," the voice chanted back at him. He'd identified with who he was conversing-the large elm tree outside his bedroom window. The elm had been his silent friend. He'd felt its welcome when he'd arrived, and he'd felt its approval of him being there. Now, its words pressed into the room. Urgency laced them.
Damon knew this would be the last night at Vern's farm. With the city underway, Micah had informed them at dinner it was time to head back. He'd said it was time to regroup with friends.
"Why, dear friend, why must I know?" Damon asked, remembering it would be best if he showed the Elm respect. There was a certain kind of brotherhood in nature. Elements of the earth loved to be spoken to in kindness.
"You are more. Feel it within you. You will remember. Discover your untapped power. You must. The Watchers know you. They have not forgotten. In their cruelness, they have made the earth weep."
"I know," Damon responded. "They're evil. Micah told me I'm the one to destroy them, but I don't know how."
"You will not be alone. You will see what needs to be done. Now sleep."
The voice was gone, but Damon didn't lie down. One phrase chased all thoughts of sleep away. The Watchers know you. How would they know him? Had they heard of him? Seen some kind of vision of him moving the earth? Had some of the demons told them about him?
The Elm said they not only know me, they haven't forgotten. Damon's eyes widened. What does that mean? Forgotten what?
YOU ARE READING
Holy and the FallenParanormal
With the Northern City under construction, Micah and Eden's lives are about to change again, when Micah is given new directions. It's time for the Watchers, the fallen angels buried in the earth, to make their final choice—serve the captain or choos...