Planet of Angels

Prologue

Elysium

Torrential rain.

It feels as though the Rapture itself is nipping at Esther's heels. The howling wind does not cease. The biting cold seeps through her thin gown, onto her skin and settles into her bloodstream. So strong is the wind, that she has to fight to move forward, her large, white wings struggling to propel her toward the starship.

She flaps.

Flaps.

Flaps.

Nothing.

"Esther!"

A booming voice calls to her from behind, loud enough to cut through the wind like a knife. No. Not him. Not here. So soon...

"Esther, you don't know what you're doing! Return the child!"

She glances down at the meek and fragile baby in her arms, cradled against her breasts, quickly turning blue. She isn't yet even an hour old. Wrapped in her mother's chemise, the child won't survive ten more minutes in this storm.

Esther collects her strength, wills every ounce of warmth into her body, braces her legs and spreads her wings. With the wind holding, she jumps forward. Her wingspan, nearly fourteen feet from feather to feather, extends fully. And with the wind behind Esther, she shoots toward the awaiting ship, the ramp already drawn.

She lands. Hard. The ramp is slick with rain. Her bare feet struggle to grip the metallic surface. Esther stumbles, scrapping her knee, nearly dropping the baby who has now stopped crying – not a good sign.

Fuck.

The baby is freezing, her skin like ice.

"Now! Castor! Now!" Esther screams.

She manages to tuck her wings just before the ramp closes. Not a moment later, the starship begins to rumble, firing its engines, beginning takeoff procedures.

Esther, now collapsed in the heart of the ship, dripping with water, blood pooling beneath her injured knee, attempts to revive the baby in her arms. Tears mixing with raindrops, run down her cheeks.

The child is no longer breathing. The child is no long breathing. The child...

"No...no..." Esther moans. "No... I promised your mother... I made a promise."

She gently places the child on the floor and begins chanting. She begins chanting in the language of angels, Aramaic. Esther prays. Extending her wings to the child, she scoops her up and delicately cradles her within her wingspan.

Feathers on newborn skin, newborn skin on feathers – something not felt in eons.

She brings the baby closer and places two finger upon her heart, warmth emanating from her skin. Her chanting crescendos, every ounce of Esther's power traveling into the child. And then –

Crying.

Esther nearly crumples with exhaustion, a loud exhalation escaping her body. Once again, she draws the baby into her arms and begins to rock her back and forth.

"Thank you... thank you, little one," Esther manages, her body trembling with fatigue.

She runs a finger down the newborn's cheek, now rosy with life. The child looks just like her mother...

What became of Nevaeh, Esther does not know.

The umbilical cord had been cut, the baby cleaned and once the crying began in force, Nevaeh had commanded them to run.

There hadn't even been time to lay the child on her mother's chest.

In and amongst the lines of an ancient angelic lullaby, Esther whispers, "You're going to save us all, little one."

"Uriel! Uriel." Castor comes flying down the hallway.

Esther can't look up fast enough before the boy is kneeling down in front of her.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Castor? Archangels need not call other archangels by their titles."

"Sorry Uri – I mean Esther." The young angel takes a breath, running a hand through his corn silk colored hair. "You do know I was literally born yesterday. The fact that I even got this ship started..."

"Help me up," Esther interrupts.

Despite only being two days old, Castor is surprisingly strong. With a mere flex of his arm, he has Esther on her feet, wings and all.

"Are you okay?" he asks. "You look worse than I did the day I fell from the Iylan and that was only..."

Esther gives him a scathing look and snaps, "Falling to the ground in an embryotic sac is nothing compared to escaping the Devil himself."

Castor appears confused.

She sighs, "Sorry, that came out harsher than I intended... I simply have a lot to teach you. That is all."

Esther rocks the baby one more time in her arms before handing her to Castor.

"Please hold her while I make sure that our coordinates are set," she says softly, laying the child in Castor's arms. "She is your purpose now."

"My purpose?" he questions, but Esther is already gliding down the hallway towards the navigation room, wings dragging on the floor behind her.

Castor looks down at the baby in his arms. She's awake. Her eyes blink up at him. They're the most verdant things he has ever seen. She is surprisingly calm – despite the circumstances.

"Well... looks like you and I were only born a day apart. Except of course, I look eighteen and you look like an actual baby... or cherub? I mean, I'm told you're a baby," Castor rambles.

She coos up at him.

"I didn't know angels could have children." He moves to the floor and sits with his back against the wall, his knees up. He gently positions the child upright against his thighs. "Perhaps you are a cherub... but then again, I'm told cherubs are nasty things. You're actually quite cute."

She manages to get an arm free from her swaddle and waves it frantically. Smiling, her little body radiating pure happiness.

"Hey now. I know you have a lot of energy from whatever Esther just did to you, but you can't go waving your arm out of its socket." Castor tucks her back into the swaddle. She makes a face at him, unhappy. "I know, I know."

Castor and the baby contemplate each other for a moment.

"Apparently, you're my purpose. And if you're my purpose, that means I won't let anything happen to you – ever. I make this promise to you, little cherub."

The baby blinks at Castor, her eyes alight.

♢ ♢ ♢