Anariel
Aftermath
The adrenaline was wearing off, that battle rush slowly fading from a raging blaze to nothing more than coals. As it wore away, she felt the post-battle exhaustion welling up, despite fighting it back. She'd been knocked out to varying degrees twice today, and though she was strong, the toll it had taken on her was just as large, something that might have flat out killed another, lesser being.She leaned back from Alexander, nodding as he woke. He would heal, and her talents were needed more vigorously elsewhere.
As she stood, she paused, catching her breath. She hadn't realized just how hard she'd been hit, and now that things were winding down, she began to feel the aches and still-forming bruises that would be the testament to this fight. She stood more fully, her wings drooping slightly in her tired state, before walking over to Lila and Edward. As she kneeled once more, her wings taking a similar position as before, she spoke to Eddie.
"You are no monster, Eddie. You are a valiant soul in a confusing position. With decisions, you might fall or rise, and I simply wish to see you fighting on my side. Despite your earlier actions int his world, you are far from being irredeemable. Even your father may yet be forgiven, though none alive on this world can perform that act in truth. As for why I called you by that title, you wield a weapon forged before this world. To use it at all is the mark of a master, whether you have full control of the weapon or not. Elytra," she paused a small smile on her face. "Sorry, that is the name of the spear I wield. She has as much a personality and life as you or I, simply bound tot he form of a weapon, by her choice. I suspect your bow is no different. Regardless, she told me she saw that in you, whether you saw it in yourself or not, and that is why she let you hold her. Had it not been for that, you'd have burned yourself trying to grasp her hilt, and to pull her from the floor would've never occurred. You have earned the title."
She began to focus more intently on Lila, the magic leaving her taxing her even more. For the first time that anyone save for Rythe and the Envoys had seen, Anariel looked tired. She looked as if she were aged over a dozen years as the magic pulled at the fabric of her life, as it always had. She'd never been the healer, that had been Uriel. He had been the light of life and had the healer's touch. She'd only gotten a small amount, being the warrior she was. And yet, here she was, repairing the body of a girl who she had never met. It had been like this before.
Ashen winds swept through the flaps of the tent as men lay groaning, their deaths approaching swiftly.
Beneath the archangel's hands was the face of a young boy, no older than ten, who'd thought to join his father in battle.
His father had perished not minutes before, having also been administered by Anariel, and she felt her heart weeping at the sight of the boy.
"Tell me he'll be okay," the boy said to her, tears from the pain in his eyes.
Despite the harsh persona she'd adopted for the battlefield, Anariel lied to stave off the boy's panic.
"Hell be up and fighting in no time at all, now rest young one, or you won't be able to be with him."
She lost the boy minutes later, her healing not strong enough.
As she came back to the present from the flashback, Anariel's gaze refocused, her eyes returning to the bright blue, ringed in misty grey. She shuffled her wings once, glad to see that the bleeding had stopped in both arrow wounds and that the skin was closing over. Despite her work, there would still be white scar patches remaining, showing the impact points, though the flesh would be smooth and flow seamlessly with her Lila's normal skin. As she set the remainder of the spell to work, reaching a point that no longer required her ministering, she sat back, her wings simply slumping to the floor around her, her youth appearing to return to her as her skin became more clear and perfect once more.
"And Rythe, we have to talk. We need a successor for Uriel, and I may need you for the ritual, if you still remember it. I didn't think we'd ever use it, or if we did that I wouldn't be there for it. I always thought I would die first." She offered a weak smile. "Beyond that, I know you're going to ask eventually, but don't worry about my wings. They..." She faltered for a moment, only to pick right back up. "They're actually fine. Just had a moment that cut too deep, and they shifted to reflect that. I'm still the same old me, and I still fight for what we believe in. Just try not to lose yourself, brother." With only a last bit of business to attend to, she turned to look at Aeriseth, more moving her head vice her whole body.
"Sister," she began, her voice soft. "We have grown apart. I understand that you feared me taking the stones, and I do not blame you for that fear. Had our positions been swapped, I might have thought the same thing. I assure you that they were secondary, as my goal was to retrieve the wings of our fallen brother, Uriel." She looked up to the rather unscathed feathered masses still hanging, her face sad. "I still intend to take them, as there is a process for replacement, though he is lost to us. As for your actions, as I said I do not blame you, but that does not mean I can forgive them. This is a moment where there are two outcomes, one of which I hope to dearly avoid if your pride can lessen enough for it."
"I ask for your apology, sincere and true, for the misunderstanding. I do not ask that it not happen again, for the future is a mystery to me. I may fight you many years from now or tomorrow, so I would not have you hold back due to an old apology by then, but I would ask that apology of you now." She fell silent, remaining seated on the ground but appearing almost regal in her posture. Her back was straight, her gaze firm, and even then, as she spoke, her halo began to manifest, a thin silver ring above her head.