Re: The Icarus/The Fallen
“One as old as men,” he nodded, a ruffle of ink-black hair sliding against his temple as he looked down at the place where his hand rested gingerly atop Enlil’s palm. With his free hand he combed his hair back into place and wondered if he’d had to deal with such mundanities in another life. Had his feathers ever stuck up the wrong way? Could a crown of light dim and tarnish? He thought not, and that presumption led to a theory that men were as fallible as the integrity of their souls. If he had one, he thought it must resemble tattered cheesecloth. “Do not confuse religion with faith. The same mistake has been the downfall of those men of which you speak.”
Nathaniel’s gaze lifted and he was astonished to find that the idle blasphemy barely registered as a flickered flame against his skin; there was a time, maybe just hours ago, where he’d been certain that he’d burn up as he plummeted through atmosphere with a streaking corona of heat trailing behind him, and he still wouldn’t have said a word against his maker or the faithful. Or tolerated hearing them spoken with such disregard. But the sear against his skin was so far forgotten now that he was at the edge of Enlil’s mercy, he could scarcely dredge up the inclination to care. He wished the man would get on with it.
And in the next breath he wished that he’d asked for a moment’s reprieve, time to prepare or steel his nerve, but they were plummeting headfirst and he had only oblivion to break his fall. Nathaniel’s wrist tingled, lamenting the lack of cool metal’s kiss or bite as it dragged across his palm and his lifeline sang a sizzling psalm. Blood petaled in a beaded line in the letter opener’s wake and he felt something bloom within his chest, unfurling in that hollow space where he’d gone looking for a heartbeat.
“Wouldn’t - that make you a fool?” He asked, a little short-winded with the weight of what felt like an anvil and hammer pounding beneath his breast. He turned the fingers of his wounded hand inward, dragging them through the scarlet slick and marveling at the color.