The Inner Circle: Holy Spirit by Cael McIntosh

El-i-miir replied sullenly before standing up to walk
away.
    ‘ No . . . I don’t.’
Seteal looked at Ilgrin pityingly, but El-i-miir was already out of
earshot.
     

Matt-hew 24
     
    3. And as he sat upon
the mount near Veret, the reis came unto him privately, saying,
“Tell us, when shall these things be? And what shall be the sign of
the coming and of the end of the world?”
    4. And the prophet answered and said
unto them, “Take heed that no man deceive you.
    5. For many shall come using Maker’s
name, saying, “I am the Spirit,” and shall deceive many.
    6. And ye shall hear of wars and
rumours of wars. See that ye be not troubled, for all these things
must come to pass, but the end is not yet.
    7. For nation shall rise against nation
and kingdom against kingdom, and there shall be famines and
pestilences and earthquakes in divers places.
    8. All these are the beginning of
sorrows.
     
    19. And woe unto she that is with
child, and to she with a suckling infant in those days!
     
    21. For then shall be the great
tribulation, such as was not since the beginning of the world to
this time, no, nor ever shall be again.
     
    Scriptures of the Holy Tome

 
     
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER Seven
    Upon the Wind
     
     
    The glowing golden sunlight of early
dawn shimmered between the gaps in the panelled wall of the shed to
touch Seeol’s tightly closed eyelids. Once sunlight would not have
served as a trigger to wake him, but his ways were not what they’d
once been. Seeol opened his eyes with a start. It was dawn. He and
his friends must’ve slept through the night instead of resuming
their journey as planned.
    ‘ Seteal?’ Seeol
peered around the shed from his place atop of an old tin can.
‘El-i-miish? Ilgrin?’ In their apparent absence he wondered where
they were.
    Seeol flittered onto the hard-packed
dirt floor and made his way over to the enormous door. Fortunately,
it’d been left open a handswidth and he was able to escape. Before
he could even open his wings, the wind picked him up and tossed
Seeol into the orange and brown leaf litter. He hunkered down
against the wind to inspect his surroundings in search of his
friends.
    A dead leaf fell, blanketing
Seeol and leaving him buried in an orange glow. For a moment, he
wanted not to resist his burial, but rather to remain there. It was
peaceful. Here, he would be safe from that which he suspected to be
true. Ignoring temptation, Seeol flapped his wings and scrabbled
free of the pile of leaves that’d covered him.
    ‘ Seteal!’ he cried,
panic rising in his chest. He leapt into the air.
    The wind’s fury increased with the
height of Seeol’s ascension. In the treetops, his wings were near
to useless and his tail feathers failed to steer. He was another
leaf, bustled about at nature’s mercy. His wings burned as he beat
them furiously in hope of regaining some control. He ascended.
Higher. Higher. He wondered if he’d reached heights never
accomplished by an elf owl before.
    Once gigantic trees paled to
insignificance compared to the expansive fields that surrounded
them. Breath came in short bursts. Elf owls were not designed for
extended periods in flight. His wings were meant for hunting prey,
not migration. The sun bit mercilessly at his large eyes, its
brilliance overwhelming a bird of the night. There was no sign . .
. not one.
    The fields below were populated by none
but cattle. Even if one of them had seen Seeol’s friends, they
wouldn’t be able to tell him where they’d gone. Cows couldn’t talk.
Seeol knew this because he’d asked them on several occasions, but
was yet to receive a sensible response. Relaxing his wings, Seeol
floated back down to the treetops, where he spotted something that
gave him hope.
    A large owl slept camouflaged atop a
branch. Seeol could tell by its great size that it was not an elf
owl, but an owl just the same.
    ‘ Hello,’ Seeol said
upon landing somewhat further up the branch. The bird didn’t
respond.