The Heart of the Fallen by Anna Katmore

Author:Anna Katmore [Katmore, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-08-08T16:00:00+00:00

*

I absorb the beauty surrounding me, wandering through the autumn woods, meditating, and writing each day. My manuscript thickens, and the Elven Princess radiates joy at my progress.

Ithuriel’s rose adorns my desk for nearly three weeks, its scent remaining as crisp as the day it bloomed. Eventually, the petals start to droop, though, and I lay the flower to rest beneath the rosebush in the garden, letting it return to the Earth. This way, I’ll commemorate our magical meeting each time I venture into the garden.

Fighting back a tear, my smile prevails. It was an exceptional gift. On that day, I press a petal into my diary for safekeeping.

As autumn’s fiery colors cede to November’s misty clasp, I feel the cold of winter biting my nose. The dwindling sunlight ensnares me to read the long evening hours away in front of the fireplace, a steaming mug of hot chocolate never missing in those cozy nights.

A yearning for Ithuriel’s return often tugs at me, but I quell my impatience, resigning myself to wait till spring or even summer, if need be.

Lately, the other angels seem more reticent. Although their presence remains in my house, they afford me some distance. Perhaps it’s my growing mastery over manipulating light and cultivating my soul that warrants this newfound respect. After all, I devote countless sun-dappled hours in the winter garden, refining my abilities.

What surprises me in these weeks is Ithuriel’s prediction; people now actively seek my counsel. Casual dialogues kindle intrigue in friends and strangers alike, and I find immense satisfaction in guiding them on their own spiritual quests.

As December unfurls, however, a serene tranquility settles. Malic and Michael become frequent companions again, joining me in the kitchen tonight. My mind is preoccupied with dinner preparations, while they appear engrossed in a world of their own. Only when Michael glances on a wristwatch I’ve never seen before on his arm, do I notice them.

Intrigued, I observe the timepiece more closely. This is no standard watch; a horizontal hourglass framed by celestial motifs embellishes the dial. Michael often muses that light beings perceive time unconventionally, experiencing cycles, or even multiple timelines concurrently. So it stands to reason that this extraordinary watch is merely an embodiment of the temporal tension I sense within him, concocted by my mind.

“It’s already started to snow,” he informs Malic, his voice laced with hidden implications. It feels as if he’s conveying a confidential countdown. I glance outside, and indeed, the snowflakes are dancing under the moonlight.

“What’s going on?” I tease. “Do you have a date with another soul tonight and require a winter coat to face the chill?” My wardrobe might be ill-suited for him, but he’s welcome to pick whatever he might find useful.

My joke captures the attention I desire, and he regards me with an amusedly arched eyebrow before gifting me a cryptic smile. “No. I’m not going anywhere for the next few days.”

I’ve always sensed his omnipresence, but his promise carries an unusual gravity this time. Dubiously, I scrutinize Michael, who’s already turned back to Malic.

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