Chapter 174 - Eighteen

A pair of glowing, white feathered wings spread forth from the faceless one's back. The faceless one swung a greatsword from its back, producing an arc of flame from several ridges protruding along the blade's edge, that absorbed the entire flurry of arrows as it dove off the Goliath's mountainous shoulder. During its descent, the formation of his wings continued, 

Afraid, the rangers below turned their crossbows upon it and fired..

It landed with its sword skewering one..

Tongues of blue flame shot out of the embedded blade, until they completely consumed its mark, rendering the ranger a statue of ash while his comrades could only watch.

The ash form crumbled into a pile under the angel's weight, landing it softly upon its knee.

In the time it took for the faceless one to jump, his wings had fully formed into a total of four -- a pair of larger ones, with a second pair of smaller ones positioned under them. 

XXXXVI.

Typhon watched all of this unfold from atop the cliff, shaken.

Attacking the village now...these are...

Suddenly, a gargoyle came flying at him with an ear-piercing screech, but before it could reach him Bridgette dispatched it with a well-placed swing of her axe.

"Typhon, come on!" Bridgette yelled. "We have to run!"

She tried to grab him, but he squirmed loose.

"I know why they're here!"

Bridgette wasn't having it. "Uh...yeah!" She said sarcastically. "They're here to kill us!"

Typhon shook his head. "No," he said. "They're looking for El!"

He pointed to where El's head was planted upon the spike, his throat catching at the sight of it again. By the lights of the fires burning in the village, he could view it more clearly. 

Those eyes, once so full of mystery and life, now vacant and staring dumb up at the sky.

"She's one of them," he said. "An angel."

Bridgette calmed. "Typhon," she said, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"I have to talk to them." It's risky, but I have to try.

He moved away from her, faster than she could tell him to stop, or that he's crazy, because he already knew that, and grabbed onto the spike.

Gripping El's head tight, he then pulled, until it came off with a sickening, wet kiss.

Hearing the screams in the distance, a dark thought crept into Typhon's head -- that perhaps he should allow the angels to continue their onslaught. That this could be seen as a due vengeance, for what they'd done to El.

But he pushed those dark thoughts to the back of his mind.

Everyone's counting on me.

"This is nuts," Bridgette said.

She grabbed him on the shoulders, turning him around to face her.  "Typhon, whatever it is you're planning right now--"

Typhon shook free of her grasp.

"I can get them to stop!"

"Since they're like El, I know I can talk to them," he quickly explained. "They're not mindless killing machines."

Bridgette looked deep into his eyes. She still saw the little boy she'd always known in there, his pupils glistening, on the verge of crying, as he held it back by putting on a brave face.

"Okay," she said

XXXXVII.

Israphiel, who had been stoically watching the destruction of the town, froze when he laid his eyes upon the sight.

"It...can't be," he softly whispered.

Sitting atop Bridgette's shoulders, Typhon waved El's head high into the air, screaming for his attention. "I have her!" He cried. "I have El!" 

Israphiel levitated away from the Goliath, down toward them.

As Typhon slid off Bridgette's shoulders to meet him, Bridgette drew her axe in preparation for a fight, when the Faceless One quietly lowered unto the ground behind her, soft and gentle as a feather.

The sky was brightening, as dawn was soon approaching.

Under Israphiel's incriminatory gaze, Typhon could feel his heart beating.

When the old angel stood directly before him, it was by his mere presence alone Typhon found himself unable to speak.

His voice was heavy, and quivering with emotion. "Child, are you...responsible for this?"

Typhon took a deep breath, bowing his head and closing his eyes. El, if you're listening... 

Please watch over me!

"Yes," he answered, opening his eyes. "El, is dead...because of me."

I should have never brought her to this place.

I should have listened, when she warned me it wasn't safe and that she didn't trust Frogman.

I should have noticed something was wrong with her...before it was too late.

Bridgette gasped. Is he planning to get us both killed?

For a while, nobody moved. Even the Goliath had temporarily ceased its barrage.

Typhon slowly extended his hands, holding El's head, to Israphiel.

Israphiel took it from him, inspecting it briefly before returning his attention to Typhon.

Suddenly, Israphiel jutted out his arm, grabbing Typhon by his face.

"Impudent boy," he snarled. "Death is not a fair enough punishment for you."

Typhon could feel himself being lifted off the ground, and cried out from the pain of the angel's impossibly tight grasp.

Seeing that Typhon was in trouble, Bridgette turned on the Faceless One.

They clashed weapons briefly, but she was quickly overpowered and her axe sent flying out of her hand, by a skillful swipe of the Faceless One's blade.

Bridgette winced. It was over so fast, that she only just realized a sharp pain in her torso.

She looked down and saw that the Faceless One had run her through, with the end of its blade still sticking out her back.

Typhon...I never thought I'd lay down my life for you as well.

It drew out its blade, letting her collapse to the ground unconscious, bleeding out.

Typhon screamed as the angel's palm began to grow hot, searing his flesh.

"I'm only getting started," Israphiel spat. "For the rest of your dismal existence, you'll only know pain. I'll make sure of it."

"And once you've grown old, and withered, unable to move or speak..."

"I'll keep you alive, even then! Just to torture you more!"

Typhon gripped Israphiel's hand, and squeezed. 

It was all he could do, besides utter those words that had been weighing on his mind ever since El vanished into the woods:

"I...loved you too, El!" He cried. "I was too afraid to tell you!"

Israphiel's eyes widened, as his hard demeanor seemed to crumble away. And with a frustrated yell, he tossed Typhon off the edge of the cliff.

To allow the words of a mere brat to affect me like this...!

He peered into El's lifeless eyes.

Rest for now, sweet sister...

For I shall find a way to make this right.

XXXXVIII.

The angels had gone and a new day was dawning by the time Jed returned to the village on the horse, with the bear cub curled up in his arms. His body still wracked with pain from the abuse he'd suffered at the hands of the rangers, but to Hell if he would rest until he was reunited with Bridgette and Typhon.

With the state the village was in, he had to wonder anxiously if they had even made it through in one piece. Corpses, and puddles of gore from where people had been struck by lasers littered the ground. Homes had been leveled to their foundations, as the dazed survivors scrambled and hobbled about to douse the lingering fires.

Passing by Frogman's manor, Jed saw the balcony lay conspicuously empty and grimaced -- .

He found Bridgette sitting atop the hill overlooking the village, with a barely conscious Typhon.

Bridgette glared at him as he brought the horse up the hill, behind them.

"Sorry I took so long," Jed said, scratching his head, feeling a slight bit embarrassed for having missed everything.

Bridgette wordlessly joined him in the saddle, carrying Typhon, and they were off.

All could feel the eyes of the villagers upon them, watching them with scornful expressions. Typhon was thinking they'd probably burn his old house down in some vain effort to 'cleanse the land,' if it hadn't been already. With it, all of what was left of his mother, his old life, his brief time with El, would be gone along with it -- all of it, up in flames. Even though it was ultimately his call that had spared their lives.

The hatred he felt for them was like a hot tar rising in his stomach -- if he could only loosen his fangs and let it loose upon all of them right then.

Denied an outlet, dark thoughts eased their way into his mind as fog across a lake.

As Jed lead the horse down the road out of town, Typhon was now painfully aware of the true intent of the grisly stakes with heads skewered on them, posted at intervals along the sides of the road. They weren't to ward off predators, poachers from the village, but rather they were sacrifices. Blood sacrifices, made to allay the constant, stupid fears of the people of Bethel. It was that fear that gave Frogman his power, and claimed El's life as payment.

As he was bitterly contemplating all this, his head rested against Bridgette's back, the horse suddenly came to a stop.

Looking up to see what was wrong, what he saw...made him question if this was all a dream.

That perhaps after all this he'd wake up soon, back at the house, El laying next to him. Maybe even further than that -- as far back as the mercenary camp, his cot on the floor, the faraway comforts of that static existence he'd once so taken for granted. As if El herself was just a figment of his imagination all along. A fleeting dream. 

In his delirious haze, Typhon glimpsed a black horse. A man who looked like his father was mounted upon it, gazing at him sternly.

"We've really gone and made a mess of things now," this phantom of Baraba said.

Typhon's head was spinning as he rose to step out of the saddle, only to trip and fall to the hard ground.

Jed and Bridgette were clamoring around him, calling his name.

And then...everything went dark.