The scene from the alley plagued Ezra. He should not have been able to remember it at all, nor anything about his life prior to the moment when he relinquished the last of his Grace. He’d saved the girl, simply because she reminded him of Leah, dead several millennia. He did not suffer from sentimentality, so there must be more at play than was apparent.
She had known him for what he was, despite attempting to convince herself that Truth was a side-effect of madness. I have to safeguard the lost one had been her reason for wanting to live, though she had no idea what the words meant. The summoning curse she had believed to the center of her soul. Otherwise, Ezra would not have come to her aid at all.
“She’s all alone and believes herself mentally ill,” he said. “This is what it means to be nephilim now. How terribly she suffers for my arrogance, my sin.”
We should fix that.
Ezra’s wings unfurled, shattering the window behind him. He’d not heard a voice in his head for so very long. Too long. He could not identify the speaker.
She is meant for me.
And then he knew, without a doubt. Lucifer yet slept, but his mind reached out, and he’d found Ezra, careless, inattentive, lax.
The presence retreated, leaving Ezra to ponder whether anyone else had heard the Light-Bringer’s command. Lucifer yet slept, but not for much longer.
He had to find Sarah. And run.
Written in response to the challenge at Thursday Threads. This is part of a much larger WIP.