Book One: Discovery-- Chapter One: Alya

Alya brushed her brown bangs out of her eyes and winced as she sneaked out the back door and into the night. Even as she left her home behind, she could still hear the shouting. She picked up her pace to a light jog as she retreated to the refuge of the woods at the end of the block. She always thought of it as “her” forest, even though she always saw other people walking their dogs or picnicking in the shade. At least, during the daytime. No one she knew of went into the woods at night-- not because anything more dangerous than the occasional drug deal was lurking there, but because the ancient fear of the dark forest kept families happily warm and safe inside.

Alya almost never went into the woods at night, the exception being nights like this when echoed strains of her parents' fight followed her until she crossed the threshold of leaves and breathed a sigh of relief. This, she thought as serenity settled around and inside of her, this is my corner of the sky. The sounds of crickets and night owls replaced the angry sounds from her home behind her and she smiled. Her feet found the path in the darkness, remembering on their own the direction her favorite trail took and she crossed her arms against the slight breeze, wishing she had thought to grab a sweater. It was starting to get cold again; summer was ending.

She smiled slightly at the peace she found here, but the knowledge of what lay behind haunted her. Why are people so corrupt? As the human race, we are so imperfect. Is there anything out there that is--

There was a loud crash in the tree above her and leaves rained down into Alya's face as she jumped and stared up in the branches. Whatever made that sound was far too large to be an owl, and her panicked mind ran through possibilities, wondering what predators could be lurking above her. Something fell next to her and she jumped away before realizing that it was just a satchel. As she picked it up, an apple rolled out and she looked at it curiously before placing it back inside. A hushed oath brought her attention back to the tree. Looking up, she gasped and staggered backwards.

“That's mine.” A few feet above her head, a boy sat on a sturdy branch, a scowl on his face. Large, white wings like a snowy owl's protruded from his bare back, spread out for balance as he perched in the tree.

“I- I'm sorry,” she stammered, but held the bag closer to her chest instead of extending it out to him.

“Give it back,” he hissed before jumping off the branch, wings held out to catch the wind and soften the sound of his bare feet on the leaves. He tucked his hands in his denim jean pockets and scowled at her again. “Or I'll take it from you.”

She timidly held out the satchel and he snatched it from her hand, immediately rifling through it to make sure everything was there. Alya worked up the courage to ask, “Are you an angel?”

He stopped. She could have sworn there was a hint of disappointment in his blue eyes. “No. Far from it.”

She frowned, not quite believing him. It wasn't just the wings; there was a barely perceptible light that seemed to radiate from his head. But she dismissed the thought. It must have been the moonlight reflecting off his shaggy blonde hair.

“'Kay,” he said, turning to her. She realized for the first time that he must be around her age, and he looked a little... lonely. “Bye.”

“Wait!” Alya protested.

As he beat his large, powerful wings, she grabbed on to his wrist, dangling as they rose a few feet off the ground. A sharp pain burst in her back and she let go in shock, the air knocked out of her lungs when she fell on the grass and leaves. She coughed and gasped and rolled over to get off her back as spikes of pain shot through again and again.

The boy landed next to her, eyes full of concern and fear. “Are you okay?”

“What did you do?!” she demanded.

“I didn't do anything!” he defended.

She screamed and thought she heard something rip and, although she couldn't be sure, she thought it was her back. Slowly the pain subsided until she was left there on her hands and knees on the forest floor, panting as beads of sweat rolled off her face. She asked again as she gasped for breath, “What... did you... do?”

She looked up at him, but he was stunned into silence, staring at her back. Unable to bring herself to form the suspicion into words, she reached a hand back and felt feathers. Her eyes went wide as she felt around and discovered that in between the straps on her tanktop, just inside of her shoulder blades, she had sprouted wings.

Prologue

A tragedy everyone was calling it. Su scoffed and shook her head, looking up at the ceiling in an effort to keep the tears at bay. They didn't know the meaning of the word. To them Lucy was the Archangel, but she had been Su's mother.
She was beyond grateful to be out of the white lace funeral dress and back in her usual black halter top and jeans. She looked at the dress where it lay crumpled in the corner as if she could make it burst into flames just from her gaze, but instead she sat on her bed wearily and put her face in her hands. Only Vincent could come close to understanding how she felt, but even he knew that there was nothing he could say or do to console the newly orphaned girl. The sympathy and sadness she had seen in his eyes at the funeral filled her with a sick feeling that settled as a small, cold pit in her otherwise empty heart.
Your mother was a good woman. The memory surfaced unbidden and unwelcome, but the words swirled inside her head and Su was as powerless to stop them as she was the day they were spoken. She died protecting others. She was powerful, even for an Archangel.
But not powerful enough, Su thought. That was the part that had confused and haunted her since she heard of her mother's death. She should have been strong enough to still save herself, even after using more than an average angel could manage to get the others out of the fight. The question burned inside of her, fueling curiosity that spread to another corner of her mind, to awaken another memory and more questions.
"You were born for something great," Lucy had said. Su had grown up hearing her mother tell her so, and one day she asked, "What is it?"
"I'll tell you soon," her mother had replied.
Soon, she thought bitterly. It's too late.
Su combed her fingers through her chin-length black hair and frowned. Her mind buzzed, as if she was on the verge of epiphany, yet it kept eluding her. She yawned and rubbed her eyes. It was getting late and it had been a long, exhausting day. She was tired, so very tired...
Her eyes flew wide open. Tired. She stood and bolted towards her mother's study. Her mother had been tired the week leading up to her death, collapsing into bed late and immediately falling asleep, nodding off during the day when she wasn't in her study for hours. Su had wondered if she was secretly taking naps inside, but now she wondered if she wasn't doing something else.
Su hesitated outside the door. She had never been allowed inside her mother's study and violating it so soon after her mother's death felt wrong, but she took a deep breath and opened the door. Stepping inside, she blinked until she could see; red-papered walls made it dark in the study, especially compared to the bright white walls of the rest of their apartment. It was sparsely furnished, the only items a dark wood chair and a matching desk that was littered with papers. Su sighed. Her mother had never been one for tidiness. She walked over and picked up a few of the papers that had fallen to the floor, careful not to read them. Knowing the future could be dangerous. Yet certain words jumped out at her against her will as she picked up the prophecies: songbird, sunlight, blonde, whistle, caw, family. She closed her eyes and tried to forget the words, knowing they would soon fade in her memory. She placed the papers on the desk and stopped. Amid all of the loose sketches, prophecies, memos, unfinished letters and hastily penned paragraphs sat an envelope addressed to her. Picking it up, Su knew that this was what she had been looking for. She could feel her mother's power inside the envelope. Whatever was inside was important enough to sacrifice enough power that she would die. With trembling hands Su ripped open the seal and pulled out a letter and a sketch.

Su--
Soon I am going to die. Once I do you will read this. I don't need to be the Archangel to know that you are bright enough to figure it out. You've notice my fatigue. I've been pouring my power into the enclosed picture. I told you you were born for something great. You have a destiny to fulfill. As our lives were intertwined, your destiny is connected to the next Archangel. You must find the Archangel, Su-- they are not going to be born in one of our communities. This picture will help you. It's similar to a Dorian Grey portrait. It will show you where the Archangel is. I don't know how long it will take you, but you must do this or else the demons will!
I love you, my dear sweet girl.
--Lucy

Su picked up the picture delicately. She hadn't noticed that her eyes were filling with tears until she had to blink them away to see what the picture depicted. The ink strokes shifted slowly and jarringly like an old, broken movie to show a crying baby angel in a generic hospital room, his head haloed with the unique glow of the Archangel.
Lu almost threw it back on the desk in frustration. This picture told her nothing right now. But instead she pocketed the picture and the letter carefully and went to her room. She packed a satchel with a week's worth of food and ran outside to the dock. Standing on the edge of the cliff, looking down at the world, she pulled the picture out again. "I will find you," she promised in a whisper. Tucking it back into its place, she spread her wings and jumped off the cliff, soaring away from the only home she had ever known into an unknown world and future.