chapter XV
Arabia, 1233 B.C.
“I AM NOT A child, father!” Eriel was furious. “I hate this place. I want to go to the city of Ke’elei and live my own life.”
“Daughter, please be reasonable.”
“You talk about reasonable? Talk! Mere talk! You are scared to live your life, father!” Eriel flipped her jet-black hair over her shoulder and huffed at him. “…And I do not want to miss mine because of you.”
Kreios winced, saying nothing. Eriel’s mind and heart were hard; as yet untested. She viewed the world through the eyes of a girl who had never known real danger or pain.
“Are you going to say something? Anything?”
Kreios sighed and turned a little away from her, dropping his chin. How could he tell her that she reminded him so very much of her mother? His wife…. That fire in the eyes. The beauty she had inherited from her. It hurt him deeply to think about his loss.
“I can see that your mind is made up. You condemn me already. For disobedience.”
“Eriel, no—”
“No! I will not burden you further.”
“I know you want to make your own life, but, daughter, you are not yet ready.”
“I know, father, the Brotherhood will come, they will find us. I have heard it all before, ten thousand times.”
“You must not try to find your abilities out in the open or you will—”
“I do not believe it, father! You have a naïve faith in children’s stories. Have they ever come? No. They are not real!”
Kreios could feel the anger rise within him. “Daughter, they are real. And they are dangerous. What, do you now reject all the teachings of El? Why do you resist the truth?”
“What truth?! Yours? You live under the cloud of superstitious fear like a scared human. You are the most powerful angel on earth; yet you cower here in this little hut in isolation! Never going out, never seeing the others, never joining the family at Ke’elei!”
Kreios thundered: “I have very good reasons for staying away from the city.”
“You’re scared of the Council.”
“I fear NO ONE!” The walls shook with his fury.
Eriel stepped back partially, momentarily shocked, but she quickly recovered. “And I do not fear you. No longer.” She turned to go, and then turned back to him. “Why do you bury your power in the ground? El has blessed you with much, but you refuse to use it.” She shook her head, stepping back. “I would rather you were a member of this Brotherhood of which you always speak. Perhaps then your power would not go unused. You are a waste.” She walked out the door, slamming it behind her.
Kreios spoke a curse, grabbing the large wooden table by the edge and throwing it across the room. It splintered, dashing into tiny pieces against the stone wall.
Eriel whipped the door open again, poking her head back inside. “There. See father? You do have some life in you.” She grabbed her pack from the hook by the door and left quietly, closing the door softly.
Kreios groaned in pain. He walked to the window to watch his only daughter leave him. Forever. Eriel made her way down the path leading away from their little hut and everything she had ever known. She was fearless. But she lacked wisdom. “She does not yet know the evil that lurks in the world. My God—El, I beg You—protect her.”
He knew this was ultimately his fault; it was true. He had sheltered her from everything he could as she grew up. Like any well-intentioned father, he had smothered her. Now he—now both of them—had to pay for his overprotective nature.
Tears filled his eyes. He could not bear to lose the only woman in his life yet again. This time was far different. Far more intense. Far worse. He took his own pack from the hook, filling it with rations. He would fly to the city ahead of her.
Thankful at least that she had never been activated, that she had never made contact with the Brotherhood, that she was almost fully grown into womanhood, nearly untouchable, he thought about what he would do once he reached Ke’elei. What could he do for her now? He thought about it, continuing to pack.
He decided. He would find Yamanu at the city and talk with him about her arrival. She could… naturally…seek out her uncle. Kreios would pray fervently for that to happen.