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  Obsidian:

  The First Battle

  by Jacob Henry

  Copyright

  Obsidian:

  The First Battle

  Copyright 2014

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  Obsidian: The First Battle

  I thought angels were supposed to be, well… angelic. All I can do is stare at those burning violet eyes as their owner flies toward me. Someone is screaming, but I can’t tell who it is. The beautiful man with violet eyes raises the large, spiked mace in his hands.

  “Oren?” is all I manage to call out.

  “Jenna,” Oren shouts and I feel his arms grip me protectively. His wings wrap around and shield us from the attack. Though the screeching of metal scraping against metal hurts my ears, I remain completely calm because I know this is the safest place I could ever be.

  His arms are strong. A single caress testifies their power. I run a hand along one of his leathery wings, they are cool and slick to the touch. They have such a beautiful golden sheen as the light hits them. Even his breath overwhelms me… the smell of a sweet ocean breeze.

  Without warning, his wings spread out and he spins us around away from danger. He turns to face the threat, placing himself between us. Those violet-eyes widen as he lowers the spiked mace.

  “Wings?” The shock in his musical voice is evident. This beautiful man also has wings, but they are not like my guardian’s. His are snowy white and the feathers ruffle gently in the wind. He has a disgusted look, which seems out of place on such a painfully stunning face.

  My guardian’s fingertips extend and transform into lethal claws as fangs erupt from his gums. He lets out a ferocious roar as they standoff, ready to attack at a moments notice.

  The angel shouts with an undeniable level of authority, “Let her go, beast.”

  My guardian’s voice thrusts that authority right back in his face, “I’m not holding her hostage.” This makes me smile.

  “Filth of the earth, how have you remained undetected for this long? Who has been hiding you?” the angel demands.

  “Who’s hiding?” my guardian asks. He crouches down into a vicious position.

  I call out to the angel, “What is your name?”

  He doesn’t even look my way, “Balthazar, now run away human.”

  “Just leave us alone.”

  He continues to glare at my guardian, “Those are not my orders.”

  I shake my head. He can’t mean to kill him. I hear my guardian let out a small growl. I take a step towards Balthazar.

  “What are you going to do to him?” I ask.

  One of my guardian’s wings pushes me back as Balthazar tightens the grip on his mace. My guardian calls back to me, “Go, Jenna.”

  I snap a look at him that he doesn’t see. I turn and look back at Balthazar, “what are you going to do to him?”

  He finally turns his head to me. His violet eyes seem to catch fire as he shouts, “Eradicate him from this world.”

  “No,” I shout as I start running forward. Oren falters as he throws me back. Balthazar attacks by thrusting his mace up, crashing it into Oren’s chin. The force sends Oren reeling through the air.

  Balthazar grabs me and begins to fly away. Without warning, Oren’s claws wrap around Balthazar and sink deep into his chest. Oren then bites down into his shoulder. Balthazar tries to scream but Oren pierces his throat with the other hand, straight through the trachea. Balthazar throws me forward.

  I look back to see Oren shout, “Jenna.”

  The angel uses this as an opportunity to smash his weapon into Oren’s face. As Oren stumbles back, Balthazar rushes to me with an amazing speed and grabs. He turns to face Oren, with his hand now wrapped around my throat.

  Through the blood dripping down his face, I can see the look of terror in Oren’s sleek onyx eyes. Balthazar coughs and I look back to see his throat beginning to heal.

  “One step, and she dies,” he coughs out, but his decision was already made. I feel his hand flex.

  “Oren,” I begin to shout, but his grip tightens and it stops me.

  Through my tears, I see Oren start to shake with a violent rage. His human body explodes and his true form emerges. His skin is like obsidian armor that shines gold in the sunlight, his body is the size and roughly the shape of a massive warhorse with a long tail that looks just as lethal as his face. The roar he unleashes causes Balthazar to go rigid with fear. Oren flashes towards us. His hand punctures through the angel’s chest and he rips out the heart. Oren lets it fall to the ground.

  Balthazar begins pulsating in vibrant colors. They become so bright that I am blinded. I feel my body leave the ground and wind blows past me. As my eyesight returns, I realize that I’m straddling Oren’s back as we fly far away from the dying angel. There is a musical explosion behind us and I can’t help but shed a tear.

  “You killed him…”

  He turns his head slightly and I can see his eye look back at me. “He was going to kill you,” he answers back simply, like there was nothing left to say.

  We soar through the air, fast toward the woods near our hometown. I wonder what it must feel like for him. Does he feel exhilarated? Scared? Free? The wind blows through my hair and I can’t help but smile. We’re alive. The forest draws near and he dives in. He lands on the soft dirt and kneels to let me slide off. I look back as he shifts back to his bare human form. He turns to face me with no shame as he stares into my eyes. He starts walking away toward our town without saying a word.

  My name is Jenna Torrence, and my best friend is a dragon.

  He stalks through the forest ahead of me. I can tell he’s stressed. Every muscle in his back and arms are flexed, he’s probably using all of his extra senses to scan for potential threats. A twig cracks and his head snaps in that direction. His eyes are warped and his fangs extend. The growl he lets out is low and daring.

  “I’m pretty sure any existing animals out there have fled,” I say, half joking and half terrified.

  He looks back at me and his face turns back to normal. How can someone’s eyes emit so much shame in such a magnificent creature?

  “Sorry,” he turns away from me, “we need to keep going.”

  Sensitive much? “Why do you do that?” I ask.

  He lowers his head and starts walking. I fold my arms and stomp after him, glaring at the back of his head.

  We stop at the edge of the wood and kneel down. He scans the street.

  “I don’t see anything,” he states without looking at me.

  “What happened back there, Oren? Why do angels, ANGELS who are supposed to be the good guys by the way, want to kill you? What did you do?”

  He looks over at me, he does the cute eye squint he does when he tries not to smile or laugh, “I didn’t do anything. Hell, I didn’t even know they existed until one tried to kill us today.”

  He looks away and I can’t help but smile, “They never told you anything?”

  “Who is there to tell me anything, Jen? My adoptive parents don’t know what I am, I’m not even sure I know what the hell I am,” he lowers his head in disgust.

  “Stop it,” I say as I smack him upside the head.

  “Ow,” he growls, doing the eye squint without looking directly at me.

  “So you don’t know anyone who can give us some answers?”

  He pauses. “There may be someone. This crazy guy cornered me one day, years before my powers even manifested. He claimed he knew what I was and he was here to protect me.”

  “You’re just now thi
nking that he might not have been crazy?”

  “I was twelve, Jenna, I had no idea what he wanted.”

  I giggle, “What did you do?”

  “I kicked him in the shin and ran straight home, but for a long time I would catch him out of the corner of my eye. I haven’t seen him in a couple years though.

  “Do you think he left?”

  He looks at me, “Or he just got better at hiding. Either way, I think it’s time for us to pay him a visit. We need to know what is going on.” He looks away and stands.

  I look away and blush. “First thing we need to do is get you some clothes, cause you’re kind of naked.”

  He doesn’t look at me and tries not to smile, “Yes. Yes I am.”

  Black V-neck and blue jeans, his go-to look. He walks out of his house and ruffles his golden-blonde hair. I forget sometimes how beautiful he looks. He flashes that crooked grin and my heart swells. I treasure these moments. Those brief moments when he forgets what he is and he isn’t disgusted by it. It’s like how it was before he shifted that first time. We were happy… and care free.

  “Hey you,” his voice chimes.

  I smile back, “Hey. Are you ready to go?”

  His eyes lose that shine and he goes back to the brooding. He’s gotten annoyingly