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The Quickening - Chapter Two
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The contents of Chapter Two with the angelic dialog translated to Duafric.
This public article was written by [Deactivated User], and last updated on 25 Nov 2020, 19:36.

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"Ashula anahu ufarial od?"

Killian looked over at his fledge mate and smiled, leaning to the side to bump Remy’s shoulder with his own. “Ani chabasa hem marusidae yadari ashud semasim aeanahu yoter a'ku." Both angels glanced up to the human driver of the charter bus carrying the 2nd Platoon of the 8th Angelic Company from their arrival point in Detroit to their new posting in Gwinn, Michigan. The driver kept glancing over his shoulder in the rearview mirror every few minutes like he couldn’t believe he had a bus full of almost forty angels. “Hem yemotsari,” Killian said in an undertone. “A'da ku, hem paetho anahu. Ashuk nefilim kuma, kem paetho anahu iri yoter a'mirai w'anahu lachama ta'gimel."

“Ashula hem chabasal anahu yoter a'miraix?" Miharael—everyone called him Harry—leaned on the back of their seat. “Shelo, anahu obo yoter ba'mirai ael ani."

“Setularaim aeanahu,” clarified Killian. He and Remy turned in their seats to face their squadmate. In the seat behind Harry, Aeser Luxiel of the 4th squad dozed with small, almost pigeon-like coos, his head tucked under one wing. “Shelo, kode, anahu teth hem min tumirim hem raal."

“Tumirim anahu raal, gam,” muttered Remy. “Shelo, ashuk anahu raairi a'emetumyi nefil? Ani chabasa hem kol yemortemiri. Akat a'charon ani zakhara mortem ide Flud."

“Sheken,” Harry’s eyes were dark with concern, “Samael bol beth a'char tinasa zot. Ashaer yada im atta tisa im Ifebeim Esrim w'teth hem masim a'han."

The busload of angels grew quiet at that thought. “Yaeshiri aedut nefilim yechaeyamiri," murmured Lunariel from his spot beside his fledge mate, Asiriel, "efes yaeshiril hem a'arketa somiari Esrim kula Flud a'char. Sheken, Ab paala zot. Kol hapan u'atta marusidae."

“Aemen,” muttered Remy under his breath and the others squirmed uncomfortably.

“Aedabaral.” The angels of the 7th squad looked up and their aeser, Sarael, glared at Remy firmly. “Selaet Aeadonai yesuriri. Anahu emetumae."

“Ken, avua,” Remy replied, keeping the sulkiness out of his voice admirably.

Killian turned to look out the windshield of the bus, cheered in spite of himself. “Ani mofeta ashear chaeyari im adamim,” he murmured and Remy tilted his head to listen closer. “Sheken, anahu chaeya im hem ashuk anahu maaseta tinasaim. Zot yesiulori. Hem yesirumari anahu iri engelosim." He looked at Remy with an eager light in his eyes. “Anahu ari emeta a'uriyi.”

“Atta chabasa exiliri proxeno anahu a'emeta?” Remy asked with a sardonic lift to his lips. “Ani ahaba atta, efes ani binal ma atta yachala..."

“A'daatax?” offered Harry.

“A'naki?” Asiriel added.

“A'kadosh?” muttered another voice from a few seats behind them. Harry sat up to peer over his shoulder while the others turned in their seats. Akriel, one of the angels from the 6th squad smiled at them. His fledge mate, Jeremy was dozing with his head on Akriel’s shoulder.

“A'shitisirita,” Remy sighed. “Tisirita iri dabar ani daracha. Sheken, ani aeziri kinata atta.”

“Aeshamal ki atta iri atud a'zaken,” snorted Killian and Remy leaned against his shoulder with a grin. “Attem kol. Ashuk attem niwawa?”

Harry smiled, returning his chin to his hands. “Im ani binal, ani ari chabasa atta rishuari. Atta raa yaeshim a'wibli a'iu nuti anahu, efes atta tamida yepaethori anahu yekuri a'lebon?"

“Ani paetho anahu yekuri a'lebon,” said Lunariel. He looked back with a small smile and shrugged, ruffling his hands through his dark hair. “Ani chabasa anahu a'han nititsawaxa a'fasilyi."

The bus jolted and the angels all braced themselves as it took a corner, bunching together like sparrows on a wire. “Ani chabasa ani raa,” said Harry, his head low as he peered through the windshield. “Ani aril tika yatarari zot bus a'shichaerem. Horaim eser iri yoter ba'orek."

The others made sounds of agreement and Killian smiled, glancing sideways to where Lunariel was staring fixedly outside. “A'titsawax a'fasilyi, ken?” he murmured and Lunariel smiled without meeting his eyes.

Curled roads of bungalows from the 1950s tangled around themselves until none of the angels were entirely sure where they had entered the base’s residential district. When the bus finally rattled to a stop outside the main intake building, Lunariel let out a gusty sigh. “Areda Breziel iri masim zot."

Areda Breziel, lieutenant of the 2nd Platoon stood outside the building with his arms folded over his impressively broad chest and his wings crossed so the long primaries barely brushed the pavement. He was stunning handsome—even by angelic standards—with glossy black hair in a queue down his back, intense brown eyes, and a quick, ready smile. Any of the angels who had served under him in Heaven were relieved to see him here. He had a reputation for being strong, tenacious, and honest, even if he was only a few centuries old. He raised his hand in welcome, his smile visible as a bright curve in his dark face.

“Ku, attem masim zot,” he said as the door opened and the new regiments filed off the bus to stretch their legs and wings. The soft snapping sound of wings uncasing rippled through the group as the few angels with longer casing endurance extended their brilliantly white wings to the sky. Every set of wings was unique, turning what could have been a uniform movement into an irregular series of fits and starts as longer wings brushed shorter ones and wide wings jostled with narrow ones. Breziel smiled and nodded to the sergeant in charge. “Aeser Sarael.”

“Avua,” Sarael replied, saluting quickly. “Yesheri, a'akatyi imraua a'bame." His sharp blue eyes passed over the four partial squads of angels who were still stretching and settling. Remy gave his sergeant a sheepish grin, then crow-hopped sideways when a tiny angel named Kribael—known to everyone as “Squirt”—crowded him with narrow wings and skinny arms. “Anahu pakotiri akatim ashaer odsima ael Nu York u'semitswa aeseraf. Ashud atta marusidae anahu?"

“Barakim setawiri ta'redabe kat,” Breziel said. “Aecharanu derekua ael mibanam sheni.” Luxiel and the 6th’s aeser, Kestrel came over to join them and Breziel nodded acknowledgment.

“Toda atta, avua,” Kestrel said, raising a hand. “Akriel, aeafitanu zot ofim a'kolum!” The 6th squad fell in behind their aeser and prepared to march off in the direction Breziel had indicated.

Kestrel paused long enough to bump his shoulder against Sarael and murmured something Remy and Killian couldn’t hear but it made their sergeant smile. “Hem iri rishki, shelo?” whispered Killian.

“Bethki,” Remy whispered back. “Hem yekawamiriax. Lo nuti anahu. Hem iri min beth a'iu, sheken."

Killian nodded, his lips pursed thoughtfully. “Atta mofeta ashud sebethkim iri attah?”

“Lo a'emetumyi.” Remy shrugged. “Atta iri akat a'akatyi yekistria a'arketayi ael mofeta." He smiled at the miffed expression on Killian’s face and shrugged. “Emetumiri. Atta iri a'kodesh, Zad.”

Killian twitched a little at the nickname but leaned his shoulder against Remy’s as they fell in with their squad headed for the barracks buildings. “Atta iri akat a'katyi ani ari amarari zot,” he whispered.

“Ani bina. Ani amara selaletha aeatta rishon w'aeshichaeremanu ani im ani acharoniril, gam.” Remy smiled. “Yetsushiril. Zadriel.”

“Aelatsaranu.” Killian’s feathers shivered until he fluffed up like a grumpy pigeon. “Aelasal. Tefila aelasal. Ani aletha Killian w'ani iri ta'shanaeim. Ani azaba ki iri atta."

“Mitaka.”

“Zeh iri anahu,” called Sarael as they approached the barracks room marked with a large, red-and-silver painted seven. He opened the door and the angels followed him inside as the lights came on.

“Hoi.” They all froze where they stood. “Avua,” said Squirt in a small voice, “Ani... zeh yenadib'ril." (slang, this ain't gonna work)

Five sets of human-sized bunk beds were arranged around the walls of the barracks room. Footlockers they all recognized sat at the heads and feet of each set of bunks, one for the bottom and one for the top. The blankets were wool and looked scratchy; the pillows were small and thin. “Ken,” sighed Sarael. “Areda uda ani anahu nefota (make art; get creative) ta'ku. Hu shaala ta'natanahi ael odtifara oheluim a'bed. Hu amara zeh iri yoter ba'ku seladamim aeanahu ari asa."

“Zeh iri… a'tovae,” said Harry, waving his hands at the room. “Iri a'memax! Hem otsa anahu zayinari a'dafni? Penimi bedim a'badalam?"

“Adamim asa,” Sarael said in a quiet tone that made Harry flush in embarrassment. “Iri a'fasililo a'arketayi yelaebabari auleim marusidael baeyitim a'dafni. Atsim a'adam yarasha sebaeyitim a'kol aehem.” He put a hand on Squirt’s shoulder since he could see the younger angel trembling in horror at the idea of sleeping alone. “Iri a'akatyi ad miparatsim bo.”

“Ashaer anahu asa ad az?" asked Siri and Lunariel hugged his fledge mate with a wing.

“Anahu ari tetha lokerim a'regel." Killian walked into the room with purpose and studied the space. “Im anahu tetha a'karobyi bedim, anahu ari yitsi bedim nuti tsad akat. Mikarafim iril a'ab efes hem ari kafara tsadim.”

Sarael smiled at his second-in-command. “Ku. Ashaer a'yoter?”

“Mitaim,” said Remy. “Im hem thasemaril ael bedim, anahu ari sima hem goren a'resh.”

As the rest of the squad began throwing out ideas, Killian and Remy found and moved their footlockers to the side of a bed Sarael indicated. “Hem yenadibiri bina anahu,” whispered Killian. They watched their squadmates setting up a makeshift nest of rough, woolen blankets and tiny pillows in the circle of lockers. “A'hanku. Hem tsalacha.”

“Ani yeshafatamiril hem ari bo a'resh zot petach,” murmured Remy.

Killian bumped his fledge mate’s shoulder and grinned. “Az anahu yenadibiri yesudari hem a'resh." Remy smiled and shook his head.
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