Kyle the Apprentice Warlock

Dark eyes with a hidden light behind them found Jim Thafesh as his gaze snapped to the source of whatever had caught his attention.  His gaze narrowed with the unpleasant malevolence a father or uncle might give a man who was talking to his teenage daughter or niece.  Realizing the jig was up and her patron had caught on to…something…about her new possibly-protégé that he didn’t like, Camina’s shoulders sagged like she was said teenage girl knowing her ‘uncle’ was about to give some young man a talking to just for being friendly.

“Stop.”  The softly spoken command resonated through the air and stopped Jim in his steps despite the young journalist’s back being turned so he didn’t know that it had been directed at him.  “Come here.”  Now Jim became aware of the archangel’s malice on is back as his feet began walking backward on their own accord then turned him around to face the angel.

“Oh.  You meant me?”  Gesturing at himself as he asked the obvious question, Camina realized that Jim was just digging the proverbial hole bigger.  Though for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what her patron’s problem could be.

“Michael – ” She began before the archangel lifted and hand and made a ‘shut it’ gesture clamping his fingers together like a shadow puppet mouth.

“Quiet, Camina.”  He’d silenced her in a way that he never had before and she immediately shut her stunned mouth, straightened up, and paid attention.  “Let me just check something first.”  Slowly, the archangel reached out one large, manicured hand and extended his index finger.  Unable to move his feet, Jim began to lean away from the incoming finger.  “Stop moving.”  Michael commanded. 

Concerned, the journalist glanced at Camina worriedly, but she gave him a distracted and reassuring nod.  Jim’s focused eyes appeared to cross as they watched the incoming finger looming closer to his face.  For his part, Michael’s gaze was fixed on a spot somewhere on the trembling journalist’s forehead.  In a careful movement, the archangel swiped his index finger over Jim’s brow as if he was stealing a taste of frosting off a cake.

Michael then switched his focus to the finger as he critically examined whatever he’d gotten off of Jim.  For his part, Jim looked even more confused as he couldn’t see anything at all on the finger.  He kept glancing between Camina and Michael in befuddlement.  After several seconds of intense scrutiny, the angel lifted the finger to his face and touched it daintily to the tip of his tongue. 

Immediately he pulled the finger away.  Making a tight-lipped grimace, he dropped his hands in defeat. Then sniffing disdainfully Michael turned to Camina.

“He’s…”  Pausing as if he couldn’t even bring himself to say the words, did not reassure Jim about whatever the angel was about to reveal about him.  Then exhaling with a vibrating of his lips like he was blowing raspberries, Michael shook his head in disgust.  “He’s been snared by fate.”

“Ohhh!”  A disappointed groan escaped the soldier.  “No.  Not again.  He’s mine now.  They can’t have him back.”  Her shoulders dropped and she gave them a little shake before straightening again and heading to the front of the plane to remind the copilot that he needed to let them out from a rear door.  He’d need to unstrap himself and connect his harness again after relocating.

“What’s happening?”  Jim had been working his tongue in his mouth before finally getting up the nerve to ask.

“Nothing.”  Michael assured him in the most unconvincing way.  “You’ll be fine.  Just stick with Camina and do what feels right to you.”  Absently, the archangel patted the young human on the shoulder before sitting down and buckling himself into Camina’s vacant seat.  Noticing that the speechless journalist was still standing where he’d forcibly drawn him, Michael looked up. 

“Shoo, shoo.”  Hand gestures accompanied the instructions and Jim Thafesh, newly appointed embedded journalist of, arguably, the most famous warlock alive wandered towards the rear of the passenger compartment that he’d been shooed towards.  More nervous now from pondering whatever had bothered the archangel than he’d initially been at the prospect of jumping out of a plane without a parachute.  Wait a minute! They did say that there’s no parachutes on this plane?

Red-faced with embarrassment, the copilot huffed slightly as Camina ushered him toward the back of the plane.  He clipped his harness onto a seat leg across from the door and adjusted the length of the tether before locking that in place also.  Almost as if on cue, the speakers for the announcement system came to life and the remarkably professional voice of the pilot was broadcast to the passengers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.”  Did he sound just the slightest bit excited about the crazy shit he was about to do?  Maybe.  “The oxygen masks are about to be released.  Please put them on as quickly as possible. Secure your mask before securing the mask of anyone you are assisting.  As soon as I’ve been notified that everyone has their mask, I will begin depressurizing the cabin.” 

Short, startled shrieks sounded as oxygen masks descended suddenly.  Cumulative hisses filled the compartments as air began to flow.  People fumbled with their masks and put them on.  It was at this point that Jim realized that he didn’t have one.  Neither did Camina, but she had divine powered battle armor.  Or did she.

“You aren’t going to suit up?”  He whispered to her quietly.  “Also, we don’t have masks.”  Smirking a smile out of the corner of her full lips, Camina shrugged nonchalantly.

“Can’t suit up in this confined space.  I’d damage the plane.  We don’t need oxygen.  We’re honestly not that high.”  Her assurance had serious overtones of being superior to civilians.  “Deep breaths.  Exhale fully and quickly, inhale slowly and shallowly.  Once you’re out of the plane, even deep breaths.  You first, I’ll follow and catch you.  But you’ll be falling for a while because we need some distance for safety while I summon my armor.”

“Okay.”  Jim nodded.  And he kept nodding.  More than he really needed to.  Was he starting to shake?  “Oh, God.  What am I doing?”  Camina smiled kindly at him with a brilliant flash of her celebrity-white teeth.  She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder Jim noticed that there was an ornate white metal combat knife with gold inlay strapped to one muscular arm.  Her pact item.

“You are about to help try to protect and save over eight million people from class one, class two, class three, and class four monster manifestations.”  Jim had looked away from the warrior before him, ashamed that he was considering backing out of his dream job because he was afraid of jumping out of a plane.  Her words drew his gaze upward once more.  When Jim met Camina’s eyes, there wasn’t any condemnation there.  Just faith.

“This is the captain speaking.”  The hollow tones of the announcement system started again.  “I’ve been informed by the flight crew that all passengers are ready.  Depressurization is starting now.  Remain in your seat with your seatbelt secured.”  Dull and muted roaring began.  Growing in intensity until it stopped, still mostly muted.

The copilot grimaced as he held up his hand with three fingers, then two fingers, than one and opened the door and Camina helped him swing it inward.  More likely, she was helping him prevent it from swinging in too quickly.  Jim staggered as the wind pummeled the interior of the aircraft.  Grabbing on to the seat behind him, Jim steadied himself.  Which lasted a moment before he felt Camina’s hand on his shoulder again.

He looked up at her as the wind howled around them.  She was grinning wildly, excitement lighting up her eyes.  Then she pulled Jim forward to the edge and his eyes widened with burgeoning panic.  Before he could react though, Camina Wattkins pushed Jim Thafesh out the open door of the plane and down forcefully into the empty blue expanse of the sky.