Fifteen years before her death...

Brandon

I hated to hear the name Deror Earhart. I hated it because it meant there would be a raid upon another winged Therianth village the same night it was spoken. No matter how hard he tried again to elude Jameston, James still managed to find Earhart anyway.

Sometimes Deror could grant his people three weeks of peace, and other times a year, but on the night I first met her, he had somehow managed a whole decade. Really, though, I had prayed as hard as I could that by some miracle Deror had taken his life and his comrades at some point. That's what winged Therianth leaders are known to do so when facing dire futures they can't escape from. I wanted that mercy something fierce.

Being a scientist sometimes comes with a lot of gray, but raiding a town for specimens reddened my hands. Every night after every raid, I would examine the palms of my hands, and somewhat like a prayer, I silently hoped that I'd forget everything I did with them during one. It wasn't lost on me that such a wish was more than I deserved. I deserved nothing but the grasping hands of the dead that clung to my ankles every waking moment of my life.

The thing was that I needed the specimens. I needed to figure out how it all worked, so red or not. I'd gear up with my suitcase and catch the first black van out with Jameston. I did so with the same thought echoing in my head as we drove up the spiraling road that led somewhere deep into the mountains.

How do Therianths even exist?

It was my goal to find out. I felt that if I could somehow unravel their genetic code, then I could heal them. I could make them human.

It was horrid of me to think in such a way, and yet, my view was the best out of the ocean of putrid ideals and toxic politics concerning Therianths. My ignorance was not something born out of hatred or pity but fear. I ran towards such an awful dream because all I ever saw was their pain. All I ever saw was human malice suppressing them into utter defeat. I feared that Therianths only existed to bring out the worst in humanity and humans only existed to use Therianths as a means to awful ends.

As dark as my dream was, I thought making them human, curing them, would bring peace. If Therianths were simply human, then no human would oppress them. They would be full citizens of any country they wanted to settle in, they would be able to stay out as late as they wanted, and they would be free to breed as they would like.

Yes, there was so much that humans kept from them and so many things they took pride in monopolizing. Therianths couldn't even vote for local office. They couldn't even use public restrooms in most places.

The system protected some over others, but winged Therianths had the most limitations. Probably because history teaches that at some point in the past, they ruled beside men as equals. Depicted as angels from heaven, they used to bridge the gap between humans and other Therianths. Many overlook that the textbook reason for their fall was vague, but in all textbooks, their fall from power was because of their greed. They wanted to overthrow their human counterparts and rule the humans and Therianths as they saw fit.

Winged ones are special. They develop powers like the superheroes from cartoons. Only the winged ones do, and no one has ever figured out why. But someday, I would.

James wore his red hazmat suit and lab coat the night I met my love. He must have had something metallic in it because it chimed every time the van bogged along the uneven road. He wore red because he liked how he didn't have to wash his clothes as often as when he wore the white ones our colleagues wore.

He explained once, "The red of the blood doesn't show right away. I keep it on for a day or two longer, and when I wash," he smirked, "it's most satisfying to see all the red rinse down the drain."

James was the same as me regarding fashion; white was unrealistic out in the field. Except my hazmat suit and coat were black most of the time. Sometimes, my military background would get the better of me, and I'd wear camouflage green, but I went with black that fateful summer night. The hard thing to swallow is that James and I were the same in many ways.

He was tall and carried himself like a rich kid because he was rich, and being a scientist was more of a hobby than his profession. Not that he wasn't brilliant; in fact, he was devastatingly a genius. It's the only reason I used to stand him. James was the one who recruited me from the special forces. It would seem I was brilliant enough for him, and that was enough for everyone else.

I'm tall, but I've got post-war gaits and hunches that make me out to be older than I am. I heard from James that he used to be the only one who could get the ladies in the laboratory riled, but since joining, there had been a split in the group about who was the most handsome. My black coal eyes didn't seem to dissuade any of them, but I didn't think they were a match for James's blue-toned-green ones. It was obvious to me they'd prefer him greatly.

Sometimes people would confuse us for each other. More so when we had our backs turned. It was the similarity in height, but also hair color and preference in style. We both had jet-black wavy-fringed hair. He said he thought of it first the same day I showed up in the lab with the style. Both of us refused to change it so we looked like two best friends who liked to match.

It annoyed me greatly.

In build, we were also alike, muscular but not beyond comical. He got his stature from his wild experiments and the genetic testing that he did on himself, while mine had been gained from old-fashioned pain and discipline. Still, I never mocked him. Some of his concoctions seemed very painful to sync with.

That night, he was extra happy.

"I think I'll get to see his daughters this time. The oldest should be around twenty, and the baby should be twelve. I hope I catch the twenty-year-old, but the twelve would do too."

As his poisoned words settle in my head, I let them go to the pit of my stomach.

"Why must you sound like a madman every time, Jameston? Any young specimen would do, so why deliberately set your eyes upon Deror's daughters?"

"I'm trying to antagonize him, of course. If it works, I could help the world shift to its next power dynamic."

I would say about ninety-nine percent of the time, even when I considered us- at best- colleagues, I wanted to put a bullet through his head.

"War doesn't wipe the slate clean, you fool."

I had turned from him to look ahead. My eyes tried to make out the orange fires the company always set ablaze for the first hour.

"Maybe, but it does do something," he softly reverted like a four-year-old.

He sighed heavily, adding, "I should warn you that this one won't be easy for you."

With a whip of my head around, maybe it was an icy glint that my bloodlust summoned. He gave a hasty swallow as he continued, "It's not your typical raid, I mean."

"It's never easy on me."

Just then, I looked out my window and made out a sign. It said, "Welcome to Highpeak."

"This is illegal, James," my breath caught as I thought about it, "This settlement is government issued. These Therianths surrendered to the system decades ago. There has been no rumors of treason concerning them. We aren't raiding them, are we?"

"There haven't been rumors because they had Deror's help, but I got my network. Here," he threw me some papers, "the place was excommunicated from the system three hours ago."

"But there's no way they know that. This- this-" I couldn't finish the sentence.

But James finished it.

"This will be a lot of screaming."

Indeed, as we parked at the edge of a dark mountain town, screams and fires raged. The lab squints like me were on hold at the entrance as the mercenaries first took care of the dirty work.

When I exited the van, I immediately left Jameston's side. I hated the beginning, so I always wandered a bit into the woods to wait.

Behind me came James's sickly sweet tone and his words, "I'll come get you when it's time."

When I was far enough away that only a few harsh shrills of pain could find me, I thought of dropping the suitcase and running. I wanted to leave the screams, the blood, and the warped sense of right and wrong behind me. Maybe I could live in the same mountains and die peacefully of starvation or natural causes. It was still more than I deserved, but hey, it was just wishful thinking.

As I stood with my head towards the helpless white moon, with the same thoughts in my head as always, she was watching me from a strong branch above.

"You hurt." Her voice was unlike any I had ever heard before. It sent static down my spine.

I whirled around to find the source of the words and then looked up. The Therianth that spoke to me had gold eyes like an eagle, and her wings were a rare grey-blue. The rest of her was quite human, and she was beautiful. There was a soft note of sweetness on her young face, and her dark auburn hair was shaggy in cut. It framed her pretty face very well.

Her legs were crossed over each other, and she rested an elbow upon them as she rested her chin on her palm. An expression of profound disinterest was given along with an eye of scrutiny.

"Look at you. Half demon, half human. I'd say there's a bigger war in you than out here."

She blinked, and the eagle silts were suddenly gone; her honey-brown eyes were human and delicate.

Her eyes can shift between one another. My mind was wheeled by the mere discovery.

The winged Therianth jumped down before me without a sound. As she walked towards me, it was as if she were walking on air.

"What's your name, soldier?"

"Soldier? I'm not-not a soldier."

The winged maiden smiled like she would to a small child, denying he was a small child.

"The hurt you carry stems from so much more than tonight. It's deep and black and hard. It despairingly too real."

After a sharp scoff, she said, "Ah, come on, tell me your name anyway."

"Brandon Draven, I'm a scientist."

"No, you're a shadow of a great man. One who could reshape the world into peace and prosperity for all. It's just that-"

She stopped short of her riddled words.

"Well," she clapped her palms, "I don't have time for you, anyway. Maybe someday, but right now, I will save my people."

My heart started to get riled. She couldn't possibly think she could fight back the small army that had already invaded the town. Yet she stood a few feet away from me, and for the first time in my life, I saw the wings of a Therianth expand and contract, getting ready for flight.

Most don't fly. Most know that means human bullets are also free to fly, and the punishments from being caught flying were harsh. You don't fly.

I stepped towards her to stop her, but she propelled upwards with such ferocity that her take-off knocked me back. She hovered over the treeline for a moment and then flew to the town. I ran back to the town's entrance when I lost sight of her in the star-filled night. I expected to see my colleagues waiting for the all-clear, but instead, I found fate making a joke out of me.

Everyone was dead but James: James and the soldiers who went in before them. Hansel, Beth, Rigel, Rafel, and all their assistants were dead on the ground. Deror had James pinned at what appeared to be some town square.

Deror was monstrous. His wings measured two arms' length for each side. His strength was visible and bottomless, but he perceived everything with a level head and an iron will. My mind was wheeling to find out why this time around, everything had turned to fuck as I made my way to them.

For James, at least. I somewhat smirked at the thought.

The entrance of the town gave a direct path to the square. There was a statue of their deity in the center, and the two enemies were at its feet. As I covertly made my way in, my mind went numb. It always did around blood and gore. That kind of darkness no longer made me sweat, but it still brought shame. Shame could poison a less seasoned man but I treaded along carrying it like an expert. When I got close enough I hid behind a tree ten feet away from them.

The trees separated the square from the streets. Their buildings surrounded the square and they were modest and artistic, but quite primitive.

"Arnelle!" Deror yelled as James squirmed at his feet.

The one from before flew down from wherever she was, making us breathless as her wings somehow wafted all the air away in one landing. Her body swayed in confidence as she made her way to Deror. I noticed a resemblance then; both had greyish wings.

Their father and daughter.

"Arnelle, gather their dead and bring to me their living comrades."

"Instead of bringing you the living now, can't I just wait for them all to die?"

"This one is their leader, and he surrendered. Call back your troops. Now!"

With an exasperated sigh, the girl took flight and released a frightening shrieking call like an eagle flying low for a kill. From all sorts of directions came Therianths dragging a corpse or a squirming injured person to the square before Deror. When I was distracted, someone noticed me and grabbed me by my hair. He was stronger than me and quickly plummeted me to the ground next to a bleeding James.

Arnelle came down when everyone had been brought as her father requested.

"James, how's the family?" Deror said suddenly.

This was strange to most of the company, but I had known them both for much longer. They were enemies, but they knew each other by more than names.

"Still don't have one. Still a free man, you know." James smiled but didn't mean it.

Arnelle clicked her tongue. She studied James, but something about her scowling expression made me think she was in grave pain.

When she addressed Deror and James, all of us went numb.

"We should kill that one. Maybe all of them."

"We can't, you know the rules. They surrender, and we leave."

She bent down to Jame's level and cocked her head to the side just like a bird would do. Once again, her eyes shone gold and became frightening eagle eyes.

"I'm looking at a demon."

With a farce tone of interest and familiarity, James said, "You're his eldest, aren't you? I heard of you and those eyes. That blood looks good on you."

I hadn't noticed, but he was right. On her tactical grey assemble, and open cheeks were droplets of blood. I worked in the special forces before joining James. I knew how to spot a vicious killer when I saw one. The impacts she made were sharp and mid-distance. She wasn't too close or far from her enemies when she slain them dead.

"No. It doesn't look good on me at all. Nor does it feel right." Her voice was soothing.

I wondered why my heart was moved by it.

"Oh, you talk like an angel, don't you? Would it surprise you to know I have never killed anyone, while you, on the other hand, I sense you have killed more than I could ever tonight? Tell me, who sounds more like the demon? The one with wings or the one without. A human is only human, you know."

Out of nowhere, she gestured at me with her finger, and her smile was sad and strained.

"He is the most human among you, and you haven't been such a thing for a long time, Jameston Ruely. Angels don't pass judgment on others," her fast hand clasped over James's neck as she held him above the ground then.

"But I do. Long has this villainy against my people been unchecked, but not anymore," her eyes flooded gold, as did her veins, "you survive tonight, but I will be the end of you."

From within her strangling grasp, he muttered, "Promise?"

Arnelle Earhart let James go. Chuckling a little, she retreated behind her father and let her shoulders fall.

"Will you really not let me kill him?" She said so softly I had trouble hearing it.

"We cannot become them. We have honor."

One by one, the winged Therianths left, and they left flying this time. Each with someone from the town James still managed to destroy. Deror looked around and then tapped his daughter's shoulder that it was time to go. I had never seen him fly before that night, but he did then. It was unbelievable how many things went differently that time, and I couldn't help but feel it was because of her.

Arnelle clenched her fists tight as she saw James's sadistic smile emerge, even as he coughed because of her grasp. Then, for a moment, they settled on me.

She let out a breath and said, "He may be a demon, but he's far better than you. You lack his conviction, and therefore you will always be bested. It will always hurt, and you will never be happy."

With another out of this would take-off, she followed the rest of her brethren into the night sky. Leaving me to wonder what she meant when she said James was better than me. I wondered why she was somehow different from the rest and why I didn't want her to leave just yet.

"Aww! I really wanted to catch her." James pouted. "She's more than I could've ever hoped for, aha."

Turning to James, I saw an obsession bury itself deep within him. I didn't know how much it would cost me, but I looked at him and saw black. His cackles painted black everything in my life, from the past, present, and future.

I should have killed him right then and there. Right, Arnelle? I should have cut his throat out.