It's puppy time. New scene next week! Thanks for reading!
Cherub’s ears fluttered rapidly, and she flew up in a graceful arc to perch on Ángel’s shoulders. “At the peak of Her might, the Great Sphinx could speak any command, and all who heard Her grand voice would obey. Now that She is shattered, the remnants of Her power are more subtle... but no less absolute.” She nuzzled against Ángel with pride. “Still... We have claimed a treasure that can make what’s true turn false. Is that not so, My sweet Ángel? As Our touch can shift hard to soft and stain to shine, old to new and black to white... can We not make of certain doom a boundless, blessèd hope?”
Ángel’s eyes fell upon a length of bamboo propped up against the wall. He reached out, and, taking hold of his greatest weapon, felt his spirit trance divide. It had been a normal staff when he first claimed the spirit that possessed it, but as the wight within it healed at its almost reluctant rate, this was what the weapon had become. Perhaps Polaris hungered in his sleep.
“...I wonder what he’d think of how we’ve used the strength we’ve borrowed.” Ángel stared up at the huge beast softly snoring in the darkness. The sight never ceased to leave him awestruck. Even this wight thrummed with power, and he had found some method to restrain himself. How would it feel to stand this close to a Great Wight? A strange sensation welled up in Ángel’s chest, an urgent voice he couldn’t understand. Struggling to give it form, something adjacent left his lips instead. “I cannot help but feel that... that a wight that had found peace would resent being wielded in battle, however just the cause...”
Cherub cuddled closer. “Polaris would acknowledge that it’s peace that We must fight for. Were he to wake, I have faith his strength would join Ours all the same.”
A wave of calming comfort echoed through Ángel. “...As always, you know just the words I wanted. Where would I find myself without you?” He smiled, petting Cherub, who purred appreciatively. “Well... it’s time for tea. And I must speak more with my daughter... as much as she’ll allow me to, that is!” Ángel chuckled. “Until next I need your counsel, then, old friend.”
His hands clasped together in perfect mirrored symmetry, and the thrum that surrounded Polaris began to resonate with the bamboo staff held tight between his fingertips.
“Polar Shift,” spoke Ángel, and in a single vibrating instant, the white spectral energy pouring out of him became its exact opposite... his normal, standard, fairly common black.
Cherub watched with a benign smile as the change in color severed their connection. Without the powers of Polaris producing the impossible, a spectral with white energy was simply inconceivable... but what a blessing it was to be paired with such a person! Ángel could bond with any spirit, heal any spirit, no matter the shade of energy they bore... it was a gift that suited him above all else. No one was more giving or more selfless.
The world around Cherub blurred to a featureless shine, casting the last sight of her friend, the bearer of her bell, in a hazy, dreamlike glow.
Sweet Ángel. Kind, loyal Ángel.