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She wasn’t oblivious to Taffy’s job. In fact, she actively aided him whenever possible. With a departing kiss and a determined look in his eyes, Taffy would head out onto his next assignment. In many ways, it made Olive proud. Of course, she assisted in other areas, as she too knew a thing or two about the battlefield. However, there were some missions she wasn’t privy to; those were the ones that caused her grief. Nevertheless, she fulfilled her current objective. With hands clasped in front of her apron, Olive dutifully attended to their home this particular night while her beloved fought to keep their land safe.
It filled her with pride; it swallowed her with anxiety.
The send off had been normal enough, though something about today felt... strange. Most days she ignored the gnawing nerves. However, there were times when her mind and spirit grew restless, confidence no longer a grace. It was during these moments that Olive found herself fretting about, repetitiously repeating the same chores to ward off the impending dread.
Would he return tonight, or would he be sent back in pieces?
Worse yet, what if he was captured – never to return again?
The feather duster she'd been holding clattered to the floor alongside her shaken heart. Blankly staring at the discarded tool, Olive's muted green eyes mindlessly turned to the floor. However, instead of dark wood her mind could only conjure up Taffy’s broken and bleeding corpse.
He was specifically designed to be a warrior, that was an undeniable fact. A warrior in her own right, Olive had witnessed him in trainings and a handful of times on the battlefield. Each time he proved to be rawer– more lethal – than she could possibly imagine. In many ways, it was a bit of a turn on having all of that power to herself. At the time, that had been enough to convince her that Taffy would fare well no matter the situation. Nevertheless, some nights were harder to ignore than others, and intrusive thoughts continued escalating her fear to delusion levels.
How long had he been gone? It had been a few hours. Shouldn’t he have returned by now? After all, it was only a mission from home base. Despite Kumo-no-Kuni’s expansive meadows and islands, the seraph would have reached home in record time.
No; something was off. Even the very air seemed thicker than usual, the darkness overtly oppressive and suffocating.
Olive’s gaze darted towards the living room window, scanning the blackness beyond. However, there was no glimpse of her beloved. She shook her head, long strands dancing around her face. Calm down, Olive, she reprimanded herself. He’s just at work. It’s normal.
Normal. What even was that word? She usually didn’t ponder such things, content to dismiss the niggling thought any time it tried to worm its way into her head. Tonight it took on a very sneaky route, going straight for her heart – her fragile and swayable heart.
Her devotion to Taffy was undying, her loyalty steadfast. She trusted him; she really did.
If that was the case, why was she storming for the front door, pausing only to grab her brown beret from the nearby coatrack?
Donning her familiar boots, Olive threw their cottage door wide open. Cool evening air slammed into her, the briskness momentarily bracing. She hadn’t realized how hot nor how breathless she had become. A determined gleam shone in her eyes as Olive steeled her nerves. Deeply inhaling, she rushed into the vast field before her, wings gradually spreading behind her. With a leap and an eager flap, Olive soared upward on the accelerated gust. She swiftly scanned the horizon, searching for the one person she couldn’t do without. Whenever she was afraid, Taffy was there to comfort her. Anytime she was angry, he dried her frustrated tears. She needed consolation; no – she needed complete reassurance that he was okay, that he was alive, that he was well.
As she ascended, a little voice of logic reminded her that directly involving herself in his line of work practically begged trouble. It worked well enough that Olive contemplated abandoning her preconceived notions and simply heading home. After all, it wasn't too late. Maybe she hadn’t distracted herself as thoroughly as she thought she had. All the same, logic held no merit in the face of fear. With a hefty pump of her wings, Olive began her vigorous investigation.
No set destination was at play – more-so a vague estimate on where she might find him. As a cherub, Olive knew the horrors of war and the costs of it. However, specifically designed missions from god himself were another thing. Her duty was to train the other cherubim beneath her, yet no amount compared to the rigorous soldiers known as the seraphim. She found some semblance of comfort in this knowledge; after all, this was Taffy. He would never fail his loved ones or his god; he was far too devoted to accept such an outcome. Be that as it may, she knew him well enough to know that beneath his hardened exterior lie a stubborn, foolhardy man that would give his all amid even the most adverse circumstances. This reckless nature was both a blessing and a curse – one Olive was not willing to risk to chance on a night such as this.
Swiftly, Olive sped across the skies, keeping low enough to spot his potential whereabouts. Lush green meadows darkened by the night soon gave way to more rocky areas. Pointed mountains with craggy spires pierced the heavens, wispy clouds and starlight her one aide in visibility. The further she flew, the more lines creased around Olive’s lips. If he was this far out, something important must be going on. Why had he been sent to such a remote location? That is, going off the assumption that he was even out here to begin with.
As disheartenment settled in, a faint flash of silver caught her attention. With a gust, Olive slowed to a halt, carefully peering into the near distance. Even from this altitude, a sickening squelch reached her ears. Darkened silhouettes stood out against the backdrop of some obscure object. With these combining factors, Olive knew something great was at play.
It was not her place to question, nor was it her place to snoop, yet when it involved Taffy, she had to know for certain that he was not on a blade's receiving end.
Descending a few meters away, Olive landed with a soft tack on the hardened soil. The rocky valley stretched around her, encircling her and the angelic party in its cradle. Catching her breath, Olive filled her lungs to capacity before she jogged the remainder of the way. An aerial entrance was far too invasive and risky; approaching from behind was equally dicey. However, if she came to them on equal footing, perhaps she would not be perceived as a threat. Of course, she wasn’t, yet sneaking up on trained seraphim was not exactly –
The ringing shirk of a blade rang through the air, seizing Olive in place. Skidding to a halt, she fully took in the scene before her. A light gasp escaped her before her hands rose, clamping over her mouth. A large wooden cross was perched in the center of the valley, an ominous thing in itself. However, the headless corpse nailed to it sent a shiver down her spine. She wasn’t sure whom it belonged to, though she suspected it wasn’t another angel judging by the lack of wings. All the same, it was a nauseating sight to behold. No matter the amount of carnage she'd seen over the decades, some things were easier to handle than others.
“What is she doing here?”
A whispered hiss barely registered as Olive’s main focus drifted down the body to the man stood in front of it. His thin blonde ponytail swayed with his movements, the kris in his right hand returning to his side. As it did, a stream of blood flicked off its wavy edges. The splattering plop of blood was almost audible against the ground, though a harsher flood gushed nearby. Olive’s eyes widened, pupils shrinking, as she realized the missing head's whereabouts.
A fistful of slate-gray hair was tightly clenched in Taffy's hand, matted and caked strands clinging to the severed neck as the crimson stream steadily coagulated. Spiraled black horns resided atop his head – a demon. So, this had been a mission against the demons again? Instinct roared to life, Olive immediately going on the offensive. However, she realized it was unnecessary. After all, the crucifixion's gathered company testified there had been only one main target of the evening.
Olive's heart loudly thrummed in her chest as her arms gradually lowered. Right – Taffy and his team were more than capable of dealing with such things. After all, he was –
Her immediate train of thought froze as a set of crimson eyes flashed her direction.
Those same crimson eyes that looked at her with such love now harbored a more visceral emotion. Rage, hatred, ferocity – the eyes of a true angel of god. It was both electrifying and downright terrifying. The kris hadn’t even been used on her, yet his stare was as sharp as his bloodied blade.
“Olive.”
She stiffened upon hearing his voice. His tone was huskier than usual, most likely caused by the strain of his mission. However, its gruffness petrified the cherub.
Upon their leader’s declaration, all eyes turned towards the uninvited. She knew these men, yet being the subject of their curious and judgmental stares left her apprehensive.
“I told you she was here.” The teal-haired angel with a scowl scoffed, glancing between Olive and his comrades. Zero’s bluntness shook her to her core, though he had every right to question her motives. His narrowed gaze shot towards Taffy before jerking back to her. “Did you know about this, Taffy? Was this a last minute decision?”
A tall man with long indigo hair stepped behind his ornery companion, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down,” Lei reasonably reprimanded. “She surely doesn’t mean any harm. For all we know Lord Fumus sent her.” Judging by the inflection in his voice, even he didn’t believe that. His collected demeanor almost carried a hint of bitterness to it. Olive was certain it was a byproduct of the aftermath, yet she still felt singled out.
Rightfully so, she fleetingly thought.
A few more whispers were exchanged, though no one else dare speak up. All turned to their commander, awaiting his verdict.
Taffy’s scarlet gaze bore into her, stealing Olive’s breath. She had seen this face before – a face reserved only for a select few; a face only meant for his god.
“Leave. Now.”
His deep timbre vibrated throughout his chest, a trait Olive both loved and feared. His tone was level. Piercing. Cold. Chills manifested across her skin, ice forming along her joints.
“Leave! Now!”
Upon his holler, Olive snapped to attention. Breaking through the freeze, she turned on her heel, bolting from the scene and her beloved.
Adrenaline poured through her veins, spurring her as fast as her legs would carry her. Her thighs burned, her lungs ached, yet Olive would not slow down. Compelling herself to obey, she fled Taffy’s fierceness. Hot tears brimmed in her eyes, rapid blinks and buffering air whisking them away. Despite her body’s soreness, tangible fear wobbled her knees, though its exact cause remained unclear. Was it Taffy?
Had she seen something she wasn’t supposed to?
Would he hurt her?
The latter was a laughable impossibility, yet she could not help but ponder such a thing. He was detrimentally devoted to Lord Fumus. If god found out, would her own decapitation be imminent?
The harsh, unforgiving ground came rushing towards her as Olive's shaking knees finally gave way beneath her.
The robust flap of lowering wings filled the air as Taffy gracefully landed outside the cottage front. Most of the lights had been turned off save for a faint warm glow seeping through the living room window onto the adjoining lawn. On any other night, arriving home to such comfort was highly appreciated. However, earliers occurrence left the seraph’s gut in turmoil.
Deeply inhaling, he let out a hefty sigh, closing his visible eye. Wind-swept bangs strewn about his face, partially obscuring his expression. Regret was highly evident, sorrow for snapping at his beloved. However, a certain stoniness lurked beneath the surface. He knew he was in the right; after all, her arrival had been highly disruptive. Granted, the deed was already done, and that traitor’s head had been victoriously presented to his lord. Even now Fumus’ approval filled the seraph with unrivaled pride. Nevertheless, he had not been completely faithful.
“Were there any complications?” Fumus’ deep timbre reverberated throughout the air.
“None, my lord,” Taffy bluntly replied.
He supposed it wasn’t a complete lie considering the mission had not been compromised. Regardless, he would not let any harm befall Olive.
After all, it was his cross to bear.
She'd never done anything like this before. He was privy to her nerves, yet never had it gotten to this point. It many ways, reason suggested he had messed up somewhere down the line. Olive had risked so much because of his own failure.
If only he had reassured her more....
Lowering his head, Taffy shook it free of the troublesome thoughts. He stared at the fresh pair of pants and cleaned boots he donned, another reminder of concealing his deeds. Arriving home covered in blood wasn’t exactly soothing, and he dare not disturb Olive any further than he’d already done.
Gathering his resolve, Taffy reached for the doorknob, quietly entering their abode. The familiar atmosphere and scents wafted over him, easing some of his tension. However, Olive’s jovial welcome was nowhere to be found. Taffy’s lips drew into a thin line. He couldn’t blame her if she was upset. Part of him wondered if perhaps he should leave things be for now; tomorrow was another day to wade through the gunk. All the same, he was far too exhausted to deal with a sleepless night.
Quietly slipping out of his boots and overcoat, Taffy gingerly made his way through the house, each movement resonating like cracking eggshells. Quickly determining she wasn’t in the living room or kitchen, he made his way down the hall towards their bedroom. As he approached, his mind spun with a myriad of apologies and excuses. He had good reason for his behavior, yet it still wasn’t fair to witness him in such a state.
Rounding the doorframe, Taffy’s lips parted, ready to expound a shoddy apology; it was more meaningful from the heart anyway. However, he didn’t need to worry about his poorly concoctive skills. The moment his eyes landed on the bed and the sleeping form atop it, Taffy’s shoulders drooped. Another sigh left his lips as he tenderly observed Olive. Simply seeing her was enough to thaw the chill his body took on. Tiptoeing to her side, Taffy inspected her face. A pang shot through his heart noticing not only her face but her hands and clothes were smudged with dirt. Had she fallen at some point? He didn’t care that the sheets were sullied; rather, dried tear streaks on her cheeks gave him the most pause.
Dropping to his knees, Taffy reached for her. Hands tucked beside her chin, he gently clasped one in his gloved grasp. She didn’t stir, her chest rising and falling in steady breaths. She most likely had returned home and collapsed.
“I’m sorry, Olive….” Taffy gently squeezed her slender fingers, melancholic grief nipping his heels.
Only a fool tread where even angels feared to go, and he had been the biggest one of all.