• Falling asleep wasn't an easy thing to do, especially with the mind-bending pain across her body. Ethel kept trying to remember the explicit details of the attack, but she couldn't remember getting half the wounds she and Amy had found on her body. After all, most she received after she lost consciousness.

    Ethel spent a good amount of time staring at the ceiling of the cottage. As requested, three candles had been left alight, and periodically, she would reach over to rekindle one that had lost it's fire. After a while, she had half memorized the shapes of the shadows on the ceiling above her, but hadn't the chance to finish the task. Falling asleep wasn't something she'd expected to do that night, but she did.

    Oh what a gorgeous creature he was. His eyes were such a dark shade of green that Ethel could hardly tell at first what color to call them but black. There was a depth to his eyes, something that enchanted her. She reached up to touch his face, setting her hand on his cheek ever so gently, and felt a jolt of what felt like electricity rush down her body to the tips of her toes as he set his hand on her own.

    His skin was pale, even paler than her own, yet not sickly so. He wore no shirt, only dark pants. Oh, how her eyes traveled the contours of his body. The man, who she didn't have the name of yet, was beautifully toned. She couldn't help but take her free hand and set it on his chest, over his heart.

    She couldn't feel a heartbeat for some reason. And she needed to feel it. She didn't know why, but she was upset that she could not feel the thumping of his heart through his bare chest. Ethel's brow furrowed, and she moved her eyes from his chest to his face, giving him a puzzled look.

    It was then that she realized she had no words to speak. She wanted to ask him so many questions, for she had so many flitting through her head. Who are you? Where is your heart? Why do you hold my hand? Why do your eyes captivate me so? But, because she had no voice, she could receive no answers.

    He must have seen the upset look upon young Ethel's face, for when she began to pull away, he grasped both her hands in his own and pulled her closer. He was examining her as well. And, he looked like he had his own questions. To her complete and utter surprise, the dark haired man pulled her even closer, and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle embrace. Unable to do anything but, Ethel returned the embrace by tightening her own arms around him.

    The man did not smile, not even a little smirk, but she knew he was happy. Resting her head on his chest, she turned to face his neck and closed her eyes. Why didn't he have to breathe? The man didn't say the words, but she heard them clear as day.

    "I've found you, Ethel Ray. Don't be afraid. I'll come for you soon."

    Pulling away, and giving her a look that seemed full of pity, he turned from her, revealing an extremely large pair of... wings. They were black as the night completely through. The thing was, it didn't scare Ethel in the slightest to see them. It felt comforting.

    She opened her mouth to cry out for him, reaching her arms in front of her. She could not walk, for there was no ground to walk upon. And then he was gone as if he never had been.

    The woman's eyes jolted open and with her damaged wrists, pushed herself from the bed and off. Had she known she'd been so weak after the sleep, she'd have not done so. Landing with a thud on the hard wood floor, she sat on her knees, facing the floor she'd fallen on and listened to her heavy breathing.

    "Conan!" she cried in her labored breathing. That was his name. Conan. It was his name.

    She let her own voice play through her head over and over, saying the name. Why did he do it to her? He was real. He must have been!

    Before she could give the man another thought, an overwhelming pain sprang up on and around her shoulder blades, as if someone had completely peeled the skin from her bones, and was throwing salt upon the wound over and over. Ethel screamed, falling to her side on the floor and scrunching her body almost into the fetal position. Raising her head above her, she let out another ear-splitting scream and began to weep.

    The pain was throbbing, starting up as it began, and then fading slowly only to commence once more. Never in her life had she experienced such pain. Even she had watched another woman bear a child, and was sure that the pain she felt now would rival the horrible experience the other went through. It felt as if bones were shifting madly where they were not supposed to.

    Streams of tears shed down her face as she reached up to the end table above her. Ethel's hands were shaking, but in a death grip, she grasped the table and pulled herself up, moaning as she did so.

    Legs shaky as well, she made her way slowly to the mirror across the room and struggled with her gown she'd fallen asleep in, the same bloody dress from the previous day, and let it fall to the floor. Turning around, she wrapped her arms around herself with clenched fists to fight the pain. Now, she saw her half-naked reflection staring back at her with a crushing look of pain upon her face. The shoulder blades which had been giving her such a problem were no longer shoulder blades. Her voice mixed with her rapid breathing now as she mumbled nonsense, reaching back with one hand in fear to touch what was not there before. As she touched it, the pain shot through not only her back, but her entire body, and she began weeping harder, half screaming in pain. Why could no one hear her? Why were they not in the cottage helping her?

    What was growing from her back looked like an underdeveloped set of wings, if she would dare admit it. It was feathered in gray,

    Turning again, although it pained her to do so, Ethel watched herself in the mirror in complete shock and denial. The room around her looked as it always did. There was the bed, end table, window... It was just morning outside. The twilight still lingered on the trees outside. As Ethel stared, distracting herself for a short moment from the pain, a figure rushed past the window so quickly she couldn't quite tell who it was. The village being so small, she knew every one of the faces after living there all her life. Jerking her head toward the window, she paused for a moment, still crying, but quietly now.

    The figure had been headed for the front door. Walking toward it in her undergarments, her bare feet stopped feet from the wood door and listened. Yes, someone was outside. How she could hear their footsteps so well, she did not know.

    Suddenly, the door was opening. Taking steps back and letting out a pitiful whimper, Ethel wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold and waited for whoever it was to walk in.

    First she saw the feet, then the slender legs and the gown that covered the rest of the woman's slender body. The eyes, they were what sent the shock straight into Ethel as if she'd been hit with an arrow. They were a golden yellow, and enchanting. Worse, they were filled with pity.

    Ethel shook herself from her panic and ran from the angel of the other night, screaming to scare it off and searching for her rapier.

    A look of annoyance appeared on her previous attacker's face. "Oh, shut up. I'm not all that scary looking am I?"

    On the contrary, the woman was beautiful. Her voice had a silken appeal to it.

    "Get out of my house!" Ethel cried, tears sweeping her cheeks as she let her hands grasp the steel rapier's hilt she'd found in a corner. Turning to the fanged beast, she gave it a swipe. Her back was worse than ever, and now she had to deal with the cause of it.

    "You're hurting. I remember the first time I got my own wings. C'mon Ethel, let me see them."

    Wings? Was the woman mad?

    She held the rapier weakly at her side, having no energy to do anything with it. Sinking to the floor, she put her face in her free hand.
    "Leave me alone," said her fragile voice.

    Rather than answering, the angel walked completely into the room, smirking at the candles that were still burning. "You wanted light last night. That's good. Leaving you in the dark would have made things worse than they already are."
    Walking behind Ethel who was now silently weeping, she saw the two appendages that had only recently sprouted. "Aye, they're going to be much like my own. Grey feathers are apt to turn black. They hurt you. Here, have any water?"

    Ethel shook her head in denial rather than giving an answer to the woman's inquiry. Nodding, the angel walked to the other side of the room and began to search through the drawers.

    "Well, what an unlucky fellow you were, walking up to me when I was looking for something to feed upon. I normally don't go for humans, especially as young as you. You've your life to live after all. I'll have you know, I'm deeply sorry."

    The girl was amazed at the woman's soft voice. There was a hint of care in it which wasn't possible. The angel tried to kill her the other night. Why was she hear now just talking as if she were her mother?

    "What happened," she asked, since she'd not be able to fight. Might as well get answers. "Why'd you attack me if you are sorry?"

    Sighing heavily, the angel found the bottle of holy water and took it over to the girl. Watching her cringe from her presence, she set a hand on Ethel's bear shoulder. "I'm not going to hurt you," she said in a soothing voice. Taking the top from the bottle of the blessed water, she began to pour little by little onto the appendages that had only recently grown. Ethel calmed as the pain began going down little by little.

    "Why does that help?" she asked in a now tired voice.

    "Because, we are basically the opposites of vampires. We are not repelled by holy water. It doesn't burn, but soothes. I see you had at least some of it added to the wounds I gave you."

    "Aye." Pausing, Ethel furrowed her brow and turned to face the woman. "We? You turned me?"

    Not answering, deciding that the look of remorse on her face would be answer enough, she continued. "That helped you more than you can know, the holy water. They'll heal very soon." She continued drenching the girl's wings in silence. There was so much to say, and not enough time. "My name is Síle. I am what is called a celestialite. And now, so are you."

    A flare of anger blazed in Ethel's eyes, and she pulled away. Her back felt so much better, but she would deal with the remainder of the pain.
    "You turned me?!" she proclaimed in a bit of a stronger voice. "A Celestialite... what the hell is a celestialite?"

    Síle stood from the floor, leaving the water on the ground. "Aye, I turned you. You'll grow wings much like mine, and will be able to fly within the next few days. They should be fully grown by the time the sun is completely risen today."
    Outside, the sun was making it's way slowly up and over the horizon. Ethel could feel what was on her back getting bigger, but strangely, not heavier. Síle began to pace back and forth, slowly, gracefully.
    "You'll have... fangs, eyeteeth, soon enough as well." She watched as Ethel reached up, touching her lips with two of her fingers. The girl's eyes were all but widened in shock.

    She should have expected this. Yes, Ethel was the first human Síle had turned in the years and years she had lived. Yet, the reactions she was getting were making her sick. Guilt was going to be heavy that night.

    "Listen," she said, "You'll live fore.."
    She heard footsteps outside the cottage. Not good.

    "Back. Corner of the room. Go." Seeing that Ethel was in no mood to listen, she half picked the girl off her feet and pulled her to the corner. She sat her down on the ground, and did the same herself. Holding her hand rather tightly over Ethel's mouth, she ignored the girl's struggling and watched.

    The door to the cottage open, and she saw a dark haired young lady, looking just a bit younger than Ethel herself, come in to check if the candles were lighted. The girl leaned over the candles, setting the ones that had gone out on fire again, then looked over at the now empty bed. Síle could hear the gasp the woman made as she took a step back and put a hand over her mouth.

    "Ethel?" she said a bit loudly, trying to get an answer out of the girl. Ethel, now realizing it was Amy calling for her, began to struggle in the celestialites arms. It was no use. The woman was strong and had her in quite a grip. She was having trouble breathing with Síle's hand over her mouth.

    Amy looked around the room, left then right, and saw no one. Nothing. Turning around, she broke into a run and exited the cottage.

    Letting Ethel free again, Síle stood and rushed toward the window, seeing Amy run into the village, obviously to tell others she could not find Ethel.

    "Well, that was a close one, wasn't it?" she said with a smile. As she turned, she saw Ethel inching toward the front door. "Noo, are you an idiot?" Síle asked as she reached the door before Ethel. "If they see those wings of yours, do you think they'll still let you stay here?"

    "Aye," Ethel replied in the coldest of tones. "They love me. They'd let me stay."

    "When you grow your fangs?" Síle gave her a flash of her own in presentation.

    "Aye," she said again.

    Becoming frustrated and worried that Amy would arrive to the cottage before she could leave, Síle took a step toward the uncooperative Ethel. "How about," she continued with fire in her voice, "when you tell them you'll live for as long as the world does. When you tell them that you'll watch them all grow old and die. Forever, Ethel. Forever you'll look as you do now. When that woman who just entered here is on her deathbed, you'll still be exactly the same. They won't accept you, Ethel. You'll be rejected, just as I was, and you'll have no where to go." Síle felt tears well up in her own eyes, just as they were in Ethel's. "Ethel, I'm giving you a chance to escape that. Just leave them. Just leave. They'll just think you were kidnapped, and after a while, they'll be okay again. You'll break their hearts if you let them see what you are now. Leave with me."

    She paused, letting tears fall freely down her own face, and watched the helplessness form on Ethel's face. Her words had been laced with ice, but it was for the best. She didn't want Ethel to go through what she had herself. This way was easier, right.

    Ethel took a step forward, looking as if she'd given up on everything. Her chin was pressed to her chest and her fists were clenched. However, when she stared up at Síle with such anger in her eyes, the celestialite was taken by complete surprise.

    "Bugger that. Get the ******** out of my way."

    Shaking her head sadly, Síle raised her hand, palm open in front of her and pointed toward Ethel's face.

    "I'm sorry, but I won't."

    Feeling the energy rush through her arm, to the tips of her fingers, and out, she sent Ethel into a fitful sleep. Catching her before she fell to the floor, Síle held her in her arms and carried her out the front door. It was sunrise now.

    She ran a few steps, then opened her black wings to catch the air. Feeling her feet being lifted from the ground, she took a tighter grip on the girl in her arms and raised herself toward the sky above her. This was the way it had to be. She would understand soon enough...

    But what was she to do if Ethel rebelled? If Ethel refused to accept the way things are? Suicide was one thing that happened often with neophytes. They would choose that to die was better than to live a life away from their families. Síle would make Ethel understand. Conan would make her understand. He was waiting for her. It was time they finally met.

    It was early for Ethel to accept the destiny that had been dealt to her, but Síle supposed the Gods worked in mysterious ways. Conan had said that Ethel was to be turned upon her twenty third birthday. She was years shy of it. Maybe this was a bad omen. Maybe there was a reason that Ethel had been caught in such an unfortunate place the night before. Maybe there was something going on underground that they didn't know of, that they never planned.

    Cursing to herself, Síle began to fly faster and prayed silently that Ethel would take on the task that was to be given to her. If she did not, lives would be lost in the months to come. So many lives.