The Last Light Series Omnibus One: - The Dreamer and the Deceiver - All Things Eternal - Ode to the King: A Superhero Epic Fantasy Collection (The Last Light Collection Book 1) by Alex Villavasso

Author:Alex Villavasso [Villavasso, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Alex Villavasso
Published: 2017-11-26T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9: Omari’s Heart Part Three—Omari and the Saint

11 Years Ago

“Oh my, what lovely eyes you have. And what might your name be?”

“My name is Skye. Nice to meet you.”

“Well, Skye, you have the eyes of an angel and the elegance of one, as well,” the old man that towered over the duo said as he moved his hand closer to Skye’s cheek to brush aside the stray hairs that rested over her left eye.

“Fuck off, old man, she’s not for sale.” Omari batted the old man’s hand away from his sister and returned a glare to the old man who appeared too eager to get to know them. The old man winced and pulled back his hand, rubbing where Omari’s hand had bruised him.

“And what might your name be?” the old man asked with the same curiosity as he harbored for Skye.

“Who I am is none of your concern. Now leave us alone before I make you regret your life decisions, pervert.” With his hidden hand, Omari reached for the knife that rested snuggly in his back pocket, ready to use whatever force necessary to deter the man before him. Skye, noticing her brother’s uneasiness, glanced in Omari’s direction, silently broadcasting her concern.

“Nonsense!” the old man said as he crouched down to Omari’s level. “Everyone has a name, so out with it!” His old face bore a smile that heavily contrasted the frown that was forced upon Omari’s face. Life hadn’t treated him or Skye as fair as he had hoped. The past few months, rougher than the rest. For someone to go out of their way to talk to them while they sat was unprecedented in the slums. Outside of conmen, extortionists, robbers, and the like, conversations were often only out of strife.

Skye glanced at her brother again in hopes that her urgency could be felt from her expression. In what she was able to feel from the man, he was different from the others. A good man. As she watched their exchange, she prayed that the world had not yet fully hardened her brother’s heart to the people that inhabited it.

What’s his problem? Omari thought to himself as he stared at the old man who was squatted to his level. The old man’s sincere eyes eased Omari for a moment, temporarily stripping him of his will to lash out at the man who questioned him. “My name... My name is Omari.” Omari exhaled. “What do you want with us?” Omari’s guard was still raised, denying the stranger any form of rapport. The old man smiled and stood to his feet, brushing off Omari’s brash attitude.

“Omari.” He paused to reflect as the noon sun seemed to catch his eyes at the perfect angle. “Do you know what your name means?” The old man looked to Omari, his face still hard and unmoving. “Your name means God the highest...did you know that? Your parents picked a well fitted name. Speaking of which...” The old man’s face sunk as his wrinkles depressed across his forehead.

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