Page 30 of Glass Wings

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“Hey, are we splitting that fifty-fifty?” Djoser asked her, laughing. Professor Skiog tsked back at him, shaking her head, and walked back over to the awning set up nearer to the start of the dig site.

More hours passed with everyone working together in silence, concentrating on the task at hand. As the sun approached the horizon, Professor Skiog came back to check their progress, pleased at the uncovering of a few meters' worth of a still-unknown structure.

Unknown to the humans, of course.

“I think we’ll get to start bragging by the end of the day tomorrow. That’s it for the day; everyone here can wrap up,” the professor said, pulling on a light sweater while pushing her sunglasses up over her head. She brushed her sweaty, sandy-colored hair off of her skin.

The graduate students shuffled up onto flat ground, some more gracefully than others after neatly piling their tools up. Djoser was the last to put away his set and made some effort to convince anyone watching that he was also struggling to lift himself out of their eight-foot-deep hole in the ground. Of course, the men had to leave the ladder untouched.

This was Djoser’s favorite part of the day, in this version of his life,anyway. He got to leave this group of humans whom he didn’t particularly enjoy being around and walk home in solace, watching the sunset while hunting for a street vendor that was late to close up.

He got on the bus and waited for the entire team to board. It was small, with metal benches for seats. He scooted past Professor Skiog, who gave him a nod before choosing an empty seat in the back. Once the bus returned them to Cairo and all had deboarded, Djoser set off south towards his small apartment that he had rented through the summer.

Through the dusty streets of the city, Djoser passed through Ataba Square. Vendors lined both sides, the faint smell of coriander and pepper wafting from ahead. His stomach growled as he walked up to a friendly vendor wearing a black beanie and red hoodie, wrapping up his products.

“Can I still get something to eat? I have cash,” Djoser said to the vendor in his metal-framed stall.

“Ah yes, I can fix you a falafel plate, my friend,” the vendor answered.

Djoser dug in his pockets for the small amount required for this exchange. Minutes later, he continued to walk through the market, his apartment waiting on the other side, with a plate filled with the day's leftover falafel and grape leaves. He stuffed some in his mouth, savoring the salty, fried flavor.

The sun had set, and all the other shops in the square had shut their rigid aluminum barriers, closing down and returning to their homes and families. It wasn’t unusual for this area to be empty since it wasn’t a large tourist destination, but tonight felt particularly desolate.

Djoser walked up to an intersection and felt a prick on the back of his neck. Something was wrong.

The darkness surrounding him pressed down like toothpaste being squeezed from a tube. He knew that feeling, remembered it from the day he discovered the destruction he could bring.

They were back. Reign had been right.

Something large and heavy slammed into him, and Djoser flew,flipping through the air as if he had been hit by a truck. His skin stung from the dirt road, scratching as he skidded and tumbled like a rock tossed by a child. His apartment keys and phone were thrown from his pockets, jingling as they fell behind him.

“Fucking . . .'' Djoser panted, “hell.”

Djoser jumped to his feet, his eyes black as an abyss. His white shirt, now stained with dark blue blood, ripped apart as fifteen feet of brown and green leathery wings burst out so fast that a witness would swear that they appeared from thin air. His hands remained by his sides while his nostrils flared with the promise of demise.

There was no sign of the creature that hit him as it hid in the shadows, waiting for its opportunity to feed. Djoser searched the darkness, letting his power creep through every atom that may be hidden between stalls.

Then he saw the bright red eyes glowing in the dark thirty meters ahead of him.

“Got you, you little shit,” he said with a boyish smile. He released his power in full for the first time in too long.

“I am not the monster,” he told himself, reaching for the Vrae.

The red eyes disappeared as shops and stands crumbled to pieces. Djoser looked around frantically for the Vrae. As soon as he turned his back, a black figure jumped onto him, its mouth opening from ear to ear to show dozens of long, jagged teeth.

The Vrae bit down on Djoser’s left wing, letting out a horrific squeal of delight as it got a mouthful of the blood that it was created to hunt. Djoser let out an enormous howl due to the now missing piece of his flesh, blue liquid gushing down his wings, shoulders, and back.

A second puncture of his wing sent Djoser into a lightheaded state. The Vrae bit through an artery and was now casually snacking on the Kinnari male, whose vision was beginning to cloud.

Djoser was on his knees, trembling from the weight of the Vrae on his back. He forced himself to raise his hands to his head, extending his magic, reaching for salvation. It was a final push or it was his final breath.

The Vrae froze in time.

Djoser screamed, finding all of the space between him and the Vrae with his magic. He grabbed every atom that gave the Vrae his life and pulled it apart.

There was no scream, no dramatic death. The demon simply disappeared, as if it had never existed at all.

Djoser fell to his forearms and growled, letting it sit in his throat as his frustration continued to build. His wings bled heavily as the pool of blood around him spread. His body was shutting down, focusing on healing his traumatic wounds. His blinks slowed down, his eyelids sticking every time they came together.