Sigillum ex Fatum [UNDER EDITING]

Chapter 4.

For a good long while, probably hours, I followed Mikha'el through the shelves upon shelves of books and scrolls. Throughout he called books to him—always by just saying "book" and holding out his hand—which he unceremoniously dumped into my arms. We didn't stop until I couldn't see, and I started having trouble finding my center of balance because I still wasn't used to my two massive wings. 

It took us probably a full hour just to get back to the main area. By the time we emerged from the depths enough to hear others speaking again, I was covered in a thin film of sweat. And by the time we reached the desks, I was muttering and swearing under my breath, silently saying nasty things about Mikha'el's mother (who didn't exist, by the way). 

As I dumped my books down (earning me a cacophony of "sh!"s), I openly glared at Mikha'el. Mikha'el, however, was smiling at me as he lackadaisically began to sort through the books. 

"Well, you passed my first test," he declared happily, peering at a spine of a book before putting it in the pile he had made to his right. 

Angrily I flicked a bead of sweat off the tip of my nose. "What?" 

Mikha'el frowned at another spine, and then put that one in the pile to the left. "I could have done with a little less complaints near the end there, but you did what I expected of you." 

I slumped in a chair, digging my fingers into my right shoulder. My entire back ached from my wings twitching as they tried to keep me upright. Rolling my arm, I looked up at him in annoyance. "You were testing me? How? We were walking." 

Mikha'el wasn't looking at me. Instead he had a book open, running his finger down its page. "Hmm. I don't remember telling you that you could sit." 

"Wha—" 

I have yet to be as petrified as I was in this very instance. Before I even finished the word, Mikha'el's hair erupted into a fount of flames. His eyes glowed, a third eye appearing on his forehead, a fourth on his chin. On the backs of both his hands sprung two more eyes. When he spoke it was a loud scream, ethereal and unlike the voice I had come to know. His open, unmoving mouth was glowing the same white-hot light as his eyes. 

"I did not tell you that you were allowed to sit in my presence!" 

I was so frightened I literally fell out of my seat. When I blinked, Mikha'el stood before me as I had come to know him. The book was closed and he was staring down at me evenly. Panting I scrambled to my feet, ready to flee for my life. I was shocked when none of the other patrons seemed disturbed by what had just occurred. 

"From now on," Mikha'el said at an even keel, though there was a snap of threatening undertone to it, "you shall do as I say, when I say it, as I say it. Is that understood?" 

I was numb. 

His eyes glowed white. "Am I understood?" 

I nodded vigorously, afraid I was going to be violently ill. 

And just like that Mikha'el smiled, his eyes back to their pleasant cerulean blue, and gracefully sat down, briefly unfurling all his wings to resituate them to accommodate the chair. I was too terrified to even blink. 

"You may sit," he said pleasantly with a nod of his head. 

I scooped up my toppled over chair and sat rigidly. 

"Ulcinin—you are sitting on your right primary flight feather—you can move." 

I was grateful he said that. It had been, in fact, excruciating. I shifted and fluttered my wings, trying not to wince even as tears stung my eyes.