“There you are!” Golan shouts upon sighting Seran and glides downward to his side. “Thought I’d find you here. Master’s quite upset with your progress. Please tell me it’s not about her.”
Seran says nothing and continues watching the human he was assigned to.
Golan hopes for a response that sufficiently explains how one known for being ruthlessly effective has become careless, or worse, intentionally deviated from orders. He stares at Seran until it’s obvious he will receive no response.
“Who is she, Seran?”
“Just a human,” he replies without removing his eyes from his target.
“Glad you said that, Seran because that’s exactly what she is – human. And one you have orders for if I recall. Ones you’ve not followed,” Golan retorts, his nostrils twitching. “I’ve never had to cover for you, Seran. Any lower rank would have dealt with her and moved on. But the fact you were assigned means there’s more at stake. You’re a general for hell’s sake! Have you forgotten?!”
“I have forgotten nothing, Golan. I am fully aware she’s a threat. I’m simply determining what that threat is and why Master’s so intent on sifting her as wheat.”
“That’s not for you to determine, Seran! I shouldn’t have to remind you that time is of the essence in cases like these. She’s obviously one of His so the sooner…” Golan pauses. “Wait. You’re intrigued by her.” He eyes Seran more intently then voices his accusation in disbelief, “No, you love this human!”
Seran’s eyes ablaze. Golan quickly distances himself before Seran’s aura reaches him. His wings struggle to steady him. Fearful, but relieved by Seran’s reaction, Golan cautiously re-approaches Seran with his forearm across his chest and head bowed.
“My apologies, General. Hold not my brash words against me. Had I pondered longer, I would have resolved in my being that you are an officer and such is beneath you. Perhaps a better choice would’ve been to ask if her appearance caused visions of nephilim to traipse through your mind, or there was something else you wished,” Golan fretfully glides backward, bracing himself for Seran’s reaction.
“What I wish, Golan? You humour me,” Amused, he smirks then flies off.
With Seran now gone, Golan watches the human, himself, contemplating how the situation can be helped along. And how he can appease the Master, but avoid Seran’s wrath. He reviews the logs seeking loopholes for happenstance, or even consequence resulting from choices humans make, but blame both God and Devil for.
“Yes!” Golan’s eyes beam. He would shout for joy if it were not for his desire to avoid calling attention to himself. He scanned the sky for activity, should others of his kind be near. Again for Seran’s presence and quickly begins his descent.
“Beautiful in form you may be. Protected on High, we shall see,“ he gleefully chants, his smile widening the closer he gets to his target.
“Beautiful in form you may be. Protected on High, we shall see.“ Approaching striking range, a breeze carrying her scent blows past him, further exciting his nostrils.
“Beautiful in form you may be. Protected on High, we shall see! I, too, shall have my taste of thee.”
Golan extends his hand. Before even the tip of his finger touches a hair on her head, a glaring light separates him from his prey. A blood red shield at its center emits chains from all sides. One pierces Golan’s wrist; another, his thigh, entangling him in pain. His prey curiously pauses, sensing something, but seeing nothing, continues on her way. Now beyond his reach, the light subsides allowing Golan to see the shield.
“Seran! You placed your seal on her? Was it not enough for her to be protected on High that you also protect her from below? What are you doing, Seran? What are you doing?” His pride hurt more than his wrist or thigh, Golan screams aloud as the seal disappears. And once more, there is no response.
Sealed, by Khrys Vaughan. Copyright 2016. All rights reserved.