Page 90 of Endless Terrors
In the middle of the Garden, there was a river, and the humans had gathered around it. Heilel moved amongst the strange creatures, remaining out of sight. They were oblivious to his presence. Even the smaller ones, whose souls glowed a bit brighter. After the Maker finished making the first humans, He had gone on to make more. Now there were dozens of them. They bred quickly.
They were also loud, Heilel thought. But he found he wasn’t annoyed by their noise. Laughter, one of his siblings had called it. The sound was infectious. Heilel had been to many of the Maker’s worlds during his short existence and he’d never heard anything like it.
It didn’t take him long to notice that one human laughed more than the others.
They called her Persephone. Her movements were as fluid as the water that sustained all of them, and the longer Heilel watched her, the less and less strange he found their ways. She didn’t lounge around like so many of the others. She played with the children. She sang as she walked through the trees. She spent her time making things, like the circle of flowers she tied together and named a crown.
Heilel saw that he wasn’t the only one watching her—male eyes trailed Persephone wherever she went. Before he knew it, the sun was descending. The humans retreated into the trees, where they separated into piles. Persephone went to do the same.
Heilel couldn’t help himself. He followed her.
Persephone rested beside the two humans who had made her. Heilel sat at the base of the tree they’d settled under, still hiding himself from sight. Their eyes slid shut and they curled around each other like shells. Although Heilel had never witnessed this before, he knew they were sleeping. One of his sisters had told him about it. She’d also described something called dreams. Heilel sat near the slumbering humans and discovered he could see the things in their heads. His sharp ears noted the changes in their breathing and heartbeats as they physically reacted to those things. Heilel quickly realized they couldn’t tell the difference between dreams and reality while they were asleep.
One human imagined breeding with the dark-eyed female whose scent had just changed. Nearby, nestled with her parents, the dark-eyed female dreamed of another. A girl she spent all her waking hours with. She imagined what it would be like to kiss her during one of their afternoons in the river. Her younger brother, a boy so young that his voice was high as a whistle, dreamed of taming one of the horses that ran through the Garden. A wild stallion with a coat white as the clouds he watched during the day.
Sitting there, rifling through their dreams one by one, Heilel had to admit it.
Humans were fascinating.
He stayed until the sun rose. He stayed until Persephone opened her eyes again. He stayed in the Garden for days.
It was much longer than he’d planned, and Heilel knew his presence would be missed. He might not be the Maker’s favorite anymore, but he was still second best. He had duties to perform and other places to be. Heilel didn’t care, though. He was too busy observing. Learning about her.
He discovered how Persephone had a natural affinity with the green, growing things the Maker had created. He began to recognize the melodies she hummed. He memorized the way she brushed her long, thick hair out of her eyes every time she bent over or looked out at the distance … which was often.
Persephone loved the Garden. She was devoted to her friends and her family. But the Maker had also given humans free will. Persephone was curious about the world, just as Heilel was about her. Whenever she looked toward the horizon, Persephone wondered if there was anything beyond it. Heilel found himself imagining her reaction to stories about the vast universe beyond this tiny place.
He decided to wait until she was alone, but that was a rare occurrence. Humans were social creatures. They preferred to stay in pairs, or small clusters. Then there was the matter of Persephone’s mother, who loved the girl with a ferocity that Heilel found both annoying and intriguing. Demeter, she was called. She sought Persephone out constantly, fussing with her hair or eager to share an anecdote.
His chance finally came when Persephone went to the river for a drink. The others were distracted by a commotion amongst the children, whose wails were so powerful they echoed across the water. Heilel appeared before Persephone just as she straightened. Her eyes widened, and she wiped the drops from her chin.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I am Heilel,” he answered.
“You’re an angel.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Have you come to guard the gates?”
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I came to observe your kind,” Heilel said. He paused. “But I stayed to meet you.”
Persephone studied him. Behind them, the chaos had died down. Soon someone would come or notice Heilel. After a few seconds, Persephone seemed to come to some sort of a decision. The human smiled sweetly at the angel. “Would you like to see the rest of the Garden?” she asked.
Heilel smiled back without thinking, and he resisted the urge to touch his mouth. There was wonder in his voice as he answered, “Very well.”
Persephone took his hand. He stared down at their interlaced fingers as he allowed her to lead him up the riverbank. Persephone didn’t notice. All her focus was on the other humans, who had started to turn or lift their heads. “I’ve made a new friend,” she called. “Come meet him.”
They welcomed Heilel warmly. They shared their food and taught him how to dance. That night, as the fires on the riverbank faded, Persephone’s parents invited him to rest with them. Heilel accepted.
He decided not to mention that angels couldn’t sleep.
The four of them went to lie beneath a tree. Although all the other humans were pressing together, Heilel hesitated to do the same with Persephone. He felt young and uncertain, two things Heilel had not experienced in a long, long time. He hadn’t thought it was possible anymore. Heilel reminded himself that he was the Morning Star. The Maker’s favored. He would not be undone by a species that was younger than the small feathers at the base of his wings.
