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Authors: Rebekah Daniels
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lesson
will be.”
Malachi thought on that for a moment. He
didn’t see what the big deal was. Of course he knew there was evil
out there, but Malachi saw it as the way of the world. Yes, bad
things happened, but if they didn’t, how would you realize how much
good there could be? It was a screwed up reality, but a reality
none-the-less.
So, he trained, and listened to what was
expected of him. This was his lot in life. Why couldn’t he have
both, he thought… become the warrior he was trained to be, but
still be able to live a semi-normal life?
With that in mind, he had already decided
that he was going to the village festivals that night, but that was
the last thing he would admit to Gerard. Instead, he looked to his
long time instructor and friend before he conceded. “Fine. I’ll try
harder. You would know more about this than I would.”
A shadow passed in front of Gerard’s face as
memories, best forgotten, resurfaced. “Yeah, I would.”
Malachi mentally kicked himself for
unintentionally doing that to Gerard. He looked around the camp for
inspiration to quickly change the subject. At that moment, a large
figure stepped out of one of their leader’s huts. The setting sun
reflected off his pail hair as well as the gleaming axe hanging
from his hip.
Using the falchion still gripped in his hand,
he gestured at the man. “Who’s that? I’ve never seen him
before.”
Gerard looked over to see who he was talking
about. “Ack,” he spit out before grimacing. “That must be the
infamous, Gemariah.” Obviously, he was not too keen on seeing him,
and the assumption was confirmed when he said, “It’s best if ye
steer clear of him.”
Still observing, with curiosity, the man he
was supposed to avoid, Malachi didn’t look away when he asked,
“Why’s that?”
“He’s flighty. He’s a rugged Viking that’s
more concerned with fighting for having a good time rather than
fighting for defending what is good. If ye’re serious about
trying harder and taking your position here more seriously, then
stay away from him until he leaves camp.”
Out of everything Gerard said, one thing
stood out the most. “A Viking? Isn’t it strange that he would be here ? Vikings don’t believe in our God… even detest the idea
of him.”
“What better way to spit in the face of
Viking beliefs, than for a nephilim te enter one of their dwellings
and create a Viking nephilim?”
Gerard’s meaning was not lost on Malachi, and
he was shocked at his instructor’s nonchalant attitude about the
idea. “That’s not our way though. You’ve always taught me to be
respectful of other people’s beliefs.”
“I know I have, but with the blood of a
fallen angel in them, a nephilim can easily turn dark. I don’t
condone what happened, but it’s the way of the world.”
Malachi didn’t respond, but instead watched
the tall blonde walk away. He didn’t know what it was, but there
was something about the man that intrigued him. That was something
to think about another day though, he thought. Right now, he had
more important things to figure out.
Biting the inside of his lip, Malachi
contemplated what to do next. He was serious about training harder
and sharpening his focus, but he had also been looking forward to
tonight. First, he had to get away from Gerard, and then he would
be on his way. Tomorrow… tomorrow, he would buckle down, but
tonight he was taking for himself.
******
He looked down and watched the dainty finger
slide down his upper arm.
“How come you haven’t been by to see me
lately?” Rosetta, a girl from the village, pouted, and looked up at
him through her long lashes.
Grinning down at her, Malachi thought once
again how glad he was that he had come tonight. His chest felt
lighter, and he could breathe easier. It was as if an invisible
weight had been lifted from him, a weight that would no doubt
return tomorrow, but he planned on enjoying the freedom
tonight.
When he arrived, he
will be.”
Malachi thought on that for a moment. He
didn’t see what the big deal was. Of course he knew there was evil
out there, but Malachi saw it as the way of the world. Yes, bad
things happened, but if they didn’t, how would you realize how much
good there could be? It was a screwed up reality, but a reality
none-the-less.
So, he trained, and listened to what was
expected of him. This was his lot in life. Why couldn’t he have
both, he thought… become the warrior he was trained to be, but
still be able to live a semi-normal life?
With that in mind, he had already decided
that he was going to the village festivals that night, but that was
the last thing he would admit to Gerard. Instead, he looked to his
long time instructor and friend before he conceded. “Fine. I’ll try
harder. You would know more about this than I would.”
A shadow passed in front of Gerard’s face as
memories, best forgotten, resurfaced. “Yeah, I would.”
Malachi mentally kicked himself for
unintentionally doing that to Gerard. He looked around the camp for
inspiration to quickly change the subject. At that moment, a large
figure stepped out of one of their leader’s huts. The setting sun
reflected off his pail hair as well as the gleaming axe hanging
from his hip.
Using the falchion still gripped in his hand,
he gestured at the man. “Who’s that? I’ve never seen him
before.”
Gerard looked over to see who he was talking
about. “Ack,” he spit out before grimacing. “That must be the
infamous, Gemariah.” Obviously, he was not too keen on seeing him,
and the assumption was confirmed when he said, “It’s best if ye
steer clear of him.”
Still observing, with curiosity, the man he
was supposed to avoid, Malachi didn’t look away when he asked,
“Why’s that?”
“He’s flighty. He’s a rugged Viking that’s
more concerned with fighting for having a good time rather than
fighting for defending what is good. If ye’re serious about
trying harder and taking your position here more seriously, then
stay away from him until he leaves camp.”
Out of everything Gerard said, one thing
stood out the most. “A Viking? Isn’t it strange that he would be here ? Vikings don’t believe in our God… even detest the idea
of him.”
“What better way to spit in the face of
Viking beliefs, than for a nephilim te enter one of their dwellings
and create a Viking nephilim?”
Gerard’s meaning was not lost on Malachi, and
he was shocked at his instructor’s nonchalant attitude about the
idea. “That’s not our way though. You’ve always taught me to be
respectful of other people’s beliefs.”
“I know I have, but with the blood of a
fallen angel in them, a nephilim can easily turn dark. I don’t
condone what happened, but it’s the way of the world.”
Malachi didn’t respond, but instead watched
the tall blonde walk away. He didn’t know what it was, but there
was something about the man that intrigued him. That was something
to think about another day though, he thought. Right now, he had
more important things to figure out.
Biting the inside of his lip, Malachi
contemplated what to do next. He was serious about training harder
and sharpening his focus, but he had also been looking forward to
tonight. First, he had to get away from Gerard, and then he would
be on his way. Tomorrow… tomorrow, he would buckle down, but
tonight he was taking for himself.
******
He looked down and watched the dainty finger
slide down his upper arm.
“How come you haven’t been by to see me
lately?” Rosetta, a girl from the village, pouted, and looked up at
him through her long lashes.
Grinning down at her, Malachi thought once
again how glad he was that he had come tonight. His chest felt
lighter, and he could breathe easier. It was as if an invisible
weight had been lifted from him, a weight that would no doubt
return tomorrow, but he planned on enjoying the freedom
tonight.
When he arrived, he
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