Dedicated to Skittles1297

"Angel blades are skeptical about their wielder and they demand a certain level of skill." - Ghost

Chapter XXIII

My pencil pressed against a blank page of my sketchbook and I started drawing, letting my mind run wild and imagination flow as I pressed my pencil against the paper, feeling as if I just focused enough I could finally relax.

It has been a few days since I had last seen Lucas. He did not appear to be in a hurry to meet up again, yet he did keep on sending me messages; even during the middle of the night, which made me wonder if he ever slept. I did have to admit to myself that I enjoyed talking to him though, even if it wasn't exactly face-to-face.

I stayed mostly low during those days, focusing mostly on keeping up with my work and drawing and painting in my free time. Occasionally I read some lore books and studied Christopher's note and journal – looking at his letter to me again and again until I memorized it completely.

The most exciting thing I did is training with Ghost to learn to control Glorious. I liked to say I was making progress, but it was hard to say for sure without testing my theory. And Ghost still said I wasn't ready to wield the blade in an actual battle without any risks. Most of the time, wielding Glorious gave me a headache. The blade seemed to love sending me memories of battles from long times past which ended up overwhelming me. Ghost told me it was just something I needed to get through.

Noticing my pencil stopped moving, I looked down at what I had drawn. As it was most days, it was a drawing of Lucas. He stood on the rooftop of a tall building, the skyline of Manhattan behind him, with his large wings spread out. He stared down at something outside the paper with a furious expression on his delicate face.

I shook my head and quickly closed my sketchbook, feeling my heart clench upon seeing his hateful eyes, even if it was just through a drawing.

"What did you draw?" Ghost asked. I looked up from the chair I was seated on in my studio and saw my Guardian Angel perched on the windowsill a few feet above the ground, his feet dangling in the air. "You seem rather upset with it."

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it," I said and put my sketchbook away.

His clear eyes rested on me for a while before he shrugged his shoulders and jumped down, landing soundlessly and gracefully on the floor. "You ready to practice some more?" He asked.

Putting my sketchbook away, I nodded my head and swung my backpack over my shoulder. "Sure. Let's go," I said. Ghost stepped in front of me. He put his hand on my shoulder and the world whirled around us with a whooshing sound. When everything stopped spinning, I took a shaky step back and found my balance, standing tall.

I stepped away from the Archangel and looked around at the clearing we were at. We were standing on a large grass field, surrounded by tall trees and mountains rising in the distance. When training me, Ghost took me to different scenarios and numerous places scattered all around the world. Once we went to a deserted part of the Himalaya mountains with snow and thin air, a tropical rainforest with thick trees, the top of a waterfall and this time a grass field.

"Where are we this time?" I asked him.

"Somewhere in France," was the reply I got. I stared at the angel, with the sunlight creating a halo around his head he looked every part divine as he was supposed to.

"Alright," I said, knowing there was no point in asking him as to why he chose to bring me to France out of all places. "What are we going to do this time?"

"I was thinking about doing something new," Ghost said, producing a large wooden stick from behind his back. "Catch this," he said and threw it my way. I caught it from the air and stared at the stick. The wood was light and smooth on my hold.

I looked up in confusion to see Ghost holding a stick of his own as well. A mischievous grin formed on his face. "Now you defend yourself."

Before I could comprehend his words or ask him to clarify himself, he sprang my way. Widening my eyes, I somehow managed to par his attack as he swung his wooden stick towards my head faster than the human eye should be able to follow. So we're supposed to fight. And those sticks are supposed to be wooden swords, I realized, bending my knees slightly and clearing my head. I can do this. How hard can this be?

Without wasting even a millisecond, Ghost attacked again. He jumped right over me and swung his wooden sword at my back. I spun around and moved out of the way, his stick lightly grazing my bare arm. I swung my own wooden stick his way, but Ghost was already gone.

"You're too slow! You can never get me that way!" He taunted me. I spun around, and his wooden stick hit me straight in the face. I stumbled backward in shock but didn't let it bother me as I advanced forwards.

I was quick to conclude that fighting angels – especially Archangels – wasn't easy. It was like trying to hold back a vicious tornado with your bare hands.

My grandparents had me trained in different fighting styles, but nothing seemed to be effective against Ghost. He seemed to foresee all my movements, either parring them or moving out of the way with a gracefulness that made me jealous. I could barely see him as he moved, swift and graceful as light itself, and he was stronger than anything I had ever seen before. He overwhelmed me, to say the least.

Before I knew what was happening, he slammed my feet out from under me and I fell to the grass, too surprised to even shout. I stared up and found Ghost looming over me. He held out his hand. I took it and let him help me up. "You are something else alright," I said, wincing as I put my weight on my feet.

"We angels are warriors of God. I am a soldier. It is who I am," Ghost told me. His hand went to my head and I felt an energy course through me. A moment later the pain I felt all over my body was gone. "You are very good for a mortal," he told me, "most don't hold out against me for that long. But when fighting against the divine, or controlling Glorious for that matter, you still need to improve your skill. Angel blades are skeptical about their wielder and they demand a certain level of skill."

"Therefore, I just need to beat you to wield Glorious properly?" I asked.

"You would be a step closer indeed," he said.

I nodded. "Very well. Let's try again."

Ghost skillfully spun his wooden stick around in the air. "As you wish," he told me, and he attacked again, not holding anything back.

.

Falling down on the grass, my wooden stick falling next to me, I groaned and closed my eyes, trying to ignore my aching body. I was covered in bruises and just wanted to lie down and sleep. Opening a single eye and peeking sideways I noticed that Ghost sat kneeled down next to my head, squinting down at me with his bright eyes. With the sunlight hitting his face directly I noticed that one of his eyes was a soft lime green of color. His other eye, on the other hand, was more of a moss green, with freckles of a brilliant gold shimmering in their depths.

We were both bathed in the light of the sun and I could feel my shirt sticking to my back from the sweat that was starting to form on my body. I took a deep breath and sat up slowly, noticing that the wooden sticks were suddenly gone.

I stared at Ghost in shock. "Where did the sticks go? I'm not done yet." I said.

Ghost gave me a disbelieving look just as my body ached as I moved too quickly to prove my point. "Your body needs rest. You really shouldn't overdo yourself. There is no honor to be found in stubbornness," the angel said.

"Can't you just heal me as you did before?" I asked.

"We have been going non-stop for the past three hours. I can heal your bruises and such, but even I cannot take away the tiredness you feel," he told me in his clear voice. "You need to rest, Harlynn."

I rolled over on my back and closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling of the sun. Currently, it was midwinter in New York, so the warm weather of France was more than welcome. "Very well," I agreed, too tired to argue any further. "Let's just stay here for a while. It's nice here."

I could hear Ghost laugh. I opened my eyes slightly and peeked at him through my eyelashes. The angel had thrown his head back and was seated with his legs crossed behind him, hands flat on the grassy ground. "We shouldn't stay too long though," he observed, "it is pretty late back home and I don't want to mess up your biological clock. You do have to go to work and all that."

Sighing in content, I closed my eyes once more and allowed myself to relax, enjoying the feeling of the warm sun shining down on me and the soft breeze blowing past. My eyes opened, and I stared up at the clear blue sky, a single cloud drifting past. "What's it like?" I asked aloud, giving Ghost a sideward glance. "Heaven, I mean."

My guardian angel gave me an almost startled look, surprised that I was asking him. He composed himself quickly. "Heaven is my home," he replied softly, "it was the only place I had known for a long time. It is a nice place."

"Do you miss it?" I asked.

His bright green eyes rested gently on me. "Only sometimes." He tilted his head to the sides, pale hair falling in front of his eyes as he took me in. "Don't worry. I like it here too. I love humanity and honestly, I don't mind being among them."

"Good," I noted, "otherwise I'll feel bad about taking you away from your home," I said as my eyes followed the clouds.

Ghost chuckled. "Blunt as always, it seems."

A silence fell between us. I had closed my eyes again and Ghost was softly humming under his breath, a lullaby of some sorts; sounding both foreign and familiar at the same time. My eyebrows frowned together as I focused closer on the tune. I've heard this before, I thought to myself, realizing that when I was very small, my mother used to hum the same lullaby to me. My eyes snapped open. "What kind of song is that?"

Ghost stopped humming and fell silent. After a while, he spoke, his voice soft. "It's a lullaby from Heaven. The angel who raised me always hummed it to me when I was small."

Then how did my mother knew it? I couldn't help but wonder, realizing with a pang just how little I knew about my family.

I was just about to ask him if he maybe knew something when singing reached my ears. Both I and Ghost looked up, towards the source of the sound and Ghost rose to his full height. Sitting up slowly, I followed his example, straining my ears to listen more closely. The song had something almost sad to it, the tone rising and falling in a sound as gentle and mournful as the wind. It had something unnatural about it as well. "This song," I said, "it isn't humans who sing it, right?"

The Archangel next to me shook his head, eyes sad and distance. "They are faeries," he replied, "follow me," he added and went towards the sound, after hesitating for a second I hurried along. Ghost disappeared among the trees and when I had caught up to him I stopped at his side, staring ahead at what was before me.

A large group of people walked among the trees, tall and proud. They walked slowly with a certain gracefulness to their step, men and woman alike. They were singing softly in their foreign language as they went.

"Where are they doing?" I whispered.

"They are lamenting their dead," Ghost replied in the same soft tone. "I imagine something must have happened to them."

A sad feeling washed over me as I listened to their lamentation. There was just something about the faeries, they were an ancient folk, as old as the world itself. They belonged here and seeing them like this, saddened me deeply.

"We should go," Ghost spoke gently, "let them mourn their own."

I nodded my head and Ghost gently put his fingers against my head. Closing my eyes, the world whirled around me with the flutter of wings as the song of the faeries followed me.

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Sorry for the late update, my little demons! Damn it, I really am late, aren't I? XD I don't have a REAL excuse except for that I have discovered role-playing.... idk, is that a good enough excuse? I like it at least and it kinda took me over... sorry about that.

I had originally planned to make this chapter longer, but because it had been such a while since my previous update, I decided to keep it at this.

Anyways.... make sure you do tell me what you thought of it! Who do you think Ghost is? How did Harlynn's mother know that lullaby? Just who is her family? What's going to happen next?

Lucifer: And of course, the most important question of them all; when will I re-appear?

Author: Shut up, Lucifer. You will come back soon enough. Just be a good Devil for now and shut up :)

Lucifer: I will never shut up!

*sighs* Very well then, I will keep it at this. Until the next time, my little demons! Until the next time! Perhaps a wee bit late, but a Happy Christmas to you lot! (we say 'Happy Christmas' in mah own country)

Lucifer: Hey! Just hold on! Don't end it just yet! The readers haven't seen much of me lately. They deserve some Luciferness in their otherwise dull lives!

Hugs and knives,

- Luci

Lucifer: HEY! DON'T START IGNORING ME NOW!!

Lucifer: HOW DARE YOU?!?! ):