Torn (8 page)

CHAPTER 6

“Oh, my God.
Lucas...” I was mesmerized and astonished at what was spread out before me.

For a moment he looked embarrassed, “I wanted to tell you, Samantha. It’s been so hard keeping this side of
myself
from you.”

“I’ve known you my whole life and all along you’ve been a, uh...”

“An angel,” Ethan finished for me.

So mesmerized by Lucas, I’d almost forgotten Ethan was there, I whirled around to stare at him.
“An angel?
Like, uh, a real live angel?
As in, from heaven?”
God, I knew he was amazing but this was unreal.

“Ha-ha.
Kind of.
I was born an angel but I only got my wings a couple years ago.”

“A couple years ago?
But isn’t that when...”

“My dad died. Yes.” He struggled for the words. “I inherited this gift when he died.”

“So, your dad was an angel? He looked like you? Why doesn’t Ethan have wings?” I turned to face Ethan. “Are you an angel too?” As I said this, I turned him around and inspected his back like I was expecting to suddenly see something sprout from his shoulder blades.

“Yes. I don’t have my wings, though.” He looked embarrassed. “It’s a huge misconception thinking all angels have wings. Some of us have them when we are born, some don’t. Some get them later in life. I may get them soon; I may have to wait awhile. We honestly don’t know why that is. We do know, however, that we’ve all been put here for a purpose. That purpose is to protect those who aren’t like us. We were put in place to protect you after our father died. You were a special case though.
A special case considering who your father was.
He was stronger than most.”

“Who my father was?
You said he was an angel, too.”

“He was. He was a powerful angel. He was a healer. He was able to protect those around him through special incantations and prayers. His work took him to some dangerous places. That’s why we were called upon to protect you when he couldn’t be here. We weren’t needed, really. His protection reached you no matter where he was.”

“But he died.”

“He did. Unlike many of the myths about us, angels can die. We are born as human as we can be, we live among humans, we feel emotion stronger than humans do and we can die. It’s a bit harder to kill us but it can be done.”

As he spoke, Lucas came over and placed my hand on his chest. I could feel his heart beat in rhythm with his wings. I could see the rise and fall of his breathing. He looked, despite the wings, human. With a flash, I remembered the glass, the blood trickling down his arms and face.

Feeling awkward and embarrassed, the words just tumbled out. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know the window would break. That part never happened before. I usually break twigs and branches on purpose so I can fix them.”

“No worries. You’re just realizing what you can do. Your emotions are strong and unpredictable. You need more practice before you can fully control it.” Lucas laughed. “Now I know never to piss you off.”

I smiled back. “Well, I’m sorry anyway.”

It was all still confusing, but made a weird kind of sense at the same time and I was beginning to believe them. I turned to Ethan and said, “So, my dad was an angel. Tell me more about him.”

“Your father, like all angels, was a protector first and foremost. His main duty was to protect the Box of Hope. Once you were born, he was bound to keep you safe as well.”

“What’s the Box of Hope?”

“I think you know, Samantha.”

Realization dawned on me.
“The box that I see in my dreams.
The box with my name on it.
But, I don’t understand. That’s just a dream, right? I mean, it feels real, but how could it be?”

Ethan sat down. “The box is real, Samantha. The location of the box, however, has always been a secret. Your father’s secret and the secret of the one before him. There are those who want to see it destroyed and those who want to use it to take over the world. If that box ever got into their hands, they would be more than happy to eliminate all traces of hope in the world. They would rule with fear and submission rather than free will.” He paused for a moment, as though choosing his words carefully. “They, apparently, found the location of the box but James got to it before they did. Unfortunately, they found him and killed him. Now we don’t know where the box is and we need to find it.”

I stared at nothing as I listened to him speak. With each new bit of information I absorbed, I mindlessly wound a string around my finger, tighter and tighter, until the appendage turned white and bloodless.

“That’s how we knew he’d died.
When you dreamed about it.
When you dreamed that you’d opened the package and we saw what lay inside, we knew he was gone. Unfortunately, he died before he could confide any of this to you. He was preparing to tell you about your destiny and help you perfect your gifts. After he died, we took on that responsibility.” His smile helped to soften the blow, but only a little. “We knew you’d be special. We weren’t sure exactly what your gifts would be, but we were assured, however, that your destiny would be great and we were to prepare to give our lives to keep you safe. We’re only two of many, Sam. There’s an army of us ready to protect you and what you can bring us."

“Me? You’ve been trained to die for me? Why? I don’t understand.” I flopped into the chair across from him, afraid my legs would give out again. “What’s so special about me? What could I possibly bring you?”

“You, Samantha, are our hope.
The one thing that gives all humans dreams and possibilities.
Without it there would be no love, no faith,
no
joy. Like Pandora’s Box, the spirit of this hope was placed in a box full of darkness to maintain balance.
Because there can’t be light without dark, joy without sadness, or love without hate.
The box was supposed to remain closed to protect that balance, but the darkness was unleashed when curiosity opened it.”

“Curiosity?
Like Pandora? But isn’t that just a myth?” My mind raced to remember what I’d learned about mythology in history class.

“It isn’t entirely a myth. Actually, of all the stories passed down about Pandora and the Box, Nathaniel Hawthorne hit the nail on the head. His story, “Pandora and the Great Box”, most closely tells the actual story. Of course there are some embellishments but, for the most part, it’s entirely accurate.”

Ethan pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. It looked as though it had been read many times. I recognized the flowing script that littered the page. It was the same as in my dream. “Nathaniel Hawthorne tells the story of a little girl, Pandora, and her friend Epimetheus. It was Epimetheus who was given the box by a stranger. And, as the story goes, Pandora was so enamored by the beauty of the box and driven by sheer curiosity, she eventually convinced Epimetheus to open it.”

“But if they were told not to open it, why would they? Why would this Epi...Epimeep...”

“Epimetheus,” Lucas corrected.

“Right.
What you said. Why would he open it if he knew he shouldn’t?”

“Nothing more than curiosity, it seems. Now in this box, Hope was placed with Troubles–all the evils and sins and bad things. And when they opened it, all those troubles escaped and populated society.”

“So by opening the box, they allowed despair and hate and all that to thrive? What about hope?”

“Hope was released too. Hope was the only thing keeping those troubles from overtaking everything.”

“So this box, left by a stranger, was the Box of Hope?”

“It’s just a myth, but the idea is the same.”

Chewing my lip, I said, “In my dream, the package was just left at the door for me. There was no one there, no stranger. It seemed as though it had just appeared by itself. The doorbell rings and when I open the door, there‘s nothing there.
Except that wrapped package.
But every time I open the package and try to touch the box inside, I wake up without looking inside.”

“Right.
That much we know,” Lucas said. His wings were gone and he’d put his shirt back on. “We can only assume,” he explained, “that it was James who sent the box to you.
Sort of.
He wasn’t able to send it to you physically so he reached you in your dreams. Like you, he had the power to heal as well as the power to recall items, like those rocks in the creek. He could also send things
away,
relocate them, if you will. But was he able to send the box away, to protect it?
If so, where?
If not, did Sebastian or one of the other Exiled finally get their hands on it? We aren’t exactly sure. But we do know James wants you to find it and we have to help you search.”

Sitting next to me, he continued. “In addition to his other gifts, and more importantly, your father had the power to destroy darkness. That is what we must find out about you, Sam. We need to know if you can do that as well. If you can do that, and we can find the box, we may be able to finally erase Sebastian and his followers.”

“Lucas is right,” Ethan said. “In order to fight those who want to take the box, we need to know the full extent of your gifts.”

My eyes widened at his words.
“Gifts?
As in plural?”

Ethan smiled. “Yes, Sam. Plural.”

“But where do these gifts come from?”

Lucas walked to the fridge to get me a bottle of water as Ethan stood and began to pace. I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around any of it.

“All of the angels on earth are descendants of angels that have fallen,” Lucas explained. “Some of us have learned the error of the ways of our ancestors and have remained Faithful while others have turned their backs completely on anything good and right. They are called the Exiled, or Dark Angels. They have no hope of gaining favor because of their attempts to destroy humankind. They want to rule over humans. They had no free will when they were forced to fall, and now they want to take it away from all those they deem unworthy, namely humans. Their greed, lust for power, and selfishness have made them difficult to destroy. They promise riches and fame to lure humans in, often using them as surrogates to produce more Dark Angels.”

I shuddered at the thought. “Was that them in the woods earlier? And why, exactly, do they want me?”

“Well...” He hesitated, as if trying to find the words. “You’re a special case. Like Ethan said, you’re the hope we’ve been looking for. If they can destroy
you,
or worse yet, convert you to darkness before we find and retrieve the box, there’ll be no way for us to fight them.”

He sat down at the table beside me and handed me the bottle of water. “We’ve been fighting a losing battle for centuries,” he said. “Generations upon generation of Faithful have either succumbed to the evil with which the Dark Angels live or have died in the pursuit of their destruction. It isn’t easy following the Light and remaining faithful to something that seems to have turned
Its
back on us. We are, after all, fallen as well. It’s the only thing we have in common with the others. We tend to get the rough end of the deal as we are unencumbered by greed and fame.”

I mulled this over a minute before I spoke. “Well, I can understand how it would be easier to live a life with no financial or material need.” I sighed. “So, what you’re saying is the
Exiled
need me to defeat the Faithful and the Faithful need me to defeat the Exiled?”

“In a nutshell, yes,” Ethan chimed in.

“Well, I guess it’s nice to be wanted,” I said through a forced chuckle. “But I’m still confused. Other than his duty to protect the box, how else was my father involved in this battle between the Faithful and the Exiled?”

Ethan was still pacing the kitchen, his nervous energy permeating the room. “James was a very powerful angel. He turned from the darkness when he was a boy. When he saw it
destroy
his own father.”

“My father was a Dark Angel?
An Exiled?”
If he didn’t have my attention before, he had it now. I listened with unwavering focus to his every word.

Ethan seemed in pain as he continued. “He was. But he switched his allegiance. You see, he’d witnessed the destruction caused by following the Exiled and he became unsure of his role. He confided his uncertainty to no one but spent his time learning about the light and the good it brings. He was sick of the lies and chaos brought to all by the Exiled. The last straw was when he saw his own father murdered in front of him.”

He stopped in front of the window, his gaze unfocused.

“Your grandfather, Zachary, worked for the most powerful of all Dark Angels, Sebastian. Sebastian had given your grandfather a job. That job was to find and destroy both the Box of Hope and the Heart of Hope.
The same box that is now our mission to retrieve.
We have no idea where the Heart is, or was, but we do know your father had possession of the box before he died.

“The story goes that your grandfather found the box but, like James, was having doubts as to the intentions of the Exiled. He hid the box away for a time, pretending not to know its location. When Sebastian found out that Zachary had it, he became furious. He paid Zachary a visit one stormy evening, demanding that he hand over the box. Zachary refused. He knew he would be killed for his treason, so he threw a protection spell on your father and tried to send him away. But Sebastian stopped him.

“Knowing the protection spell would keep him from harming your father until he turned eighteen, Sebastian forced James to watch as he murdered his father. Sebastian takes sick pleasure in the pain of others so when he couldn’t harm your father
physically,
he decided to hurt him emotionally.”

My eyes welled up at the thought of my father having to watch something so heinous.

“First, Sebastian used the Sword of Death to cut off Zachary’s wings, making him become as close to mortal as an angel can be. Though shivering in the most heinous pain one could endure, Zachary refused to bow down in defeat, so Sebastian took the sword and pierced him slowly through the heart, finally killing him.”