[Mission accomplished!] Grace thought triumphantly, hefting her basket of supplies.
She'd managed to get everything she needed, even if her purse was significantly lighter than she had planned.
[But those herbs were definitely worth it. And I absolutely won that haggling battle with Old Lady Maple. She needs to eat more!] In the back of her mind, she heard a pot telling a kettle they weren't that different, but she moved on.
The sun had climbed higher during her shopping, and the market was properly crowded now. Grace weaved between the villagers with ease, using her small size to her advantage for once. Being tiny did have its perks on occassion, especially when navigating through the sea of much taller people.
[Almost home free! Just got to get through the northern gate and—]
Grace's internal victory speech came to a screeching halt.
The angel was there.
The angel was RIGHT THERE.
The GORGEOUS angel who'd been at the western gate was now standing at the northern gate. The EXACT gate Grace needed to use to get home. Like before, she had her back to Grace, the head of her mace planted down before her as she stood on the lookout.
[OK, don't panic,] Grace told herself, immediately panicking. [Just... walk past her. Like a normal person. You can totally walk past the incredibly beautiful warrior angel like a normal person. Just put one foot in front of the other and—why are my feet not moving?]
She stood frozen in place, clutching her basket like a shield. The angel seemed even more stunning up close. Her midnight hair caught the breeze, and those massive wings shifted slightly. Grace's eyes roamed curves that basically constituted an attack on her heart.
[NO! Bad Grace! Stop staring at her figure! Just walk! Walk like a normal human being who definitely isn't having a crisis over how pretty she is!]
Taking a deep breath, Grace forced her feet to move. One step. Then another. She kept her eyes firmly fixed on the ground, watching her own boots as if they might betray her at any moment. The gate was getting closer. Just a few more steps and—
"You there. With the white hair."
Grace's soul left her body.
[Did... Did she just...?]
The angel's voice was exactly what you'd expect from a divine warrior – rich, commanding, and doing very unfair things to Grace's poor gay heart. She turned slowly, trying desperately to remember how faces worked.
[Say something! Anything! Just open your mouth and—]
"Me?" Grace squeaked, then immediately wanted to die of embarrassment.
[Brilliant response. There are so many OTHER girls with white hair around here.]
The angel's lips curved into the smallest of smiles, and Grace felt her knees go weak.
"Yes, you." She took a step closer, and Grace had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. Had anyone ever been this tall? Was this legal? "Who are you?"
Grace's brain short-circuited. Several thoughts tried to happen at once:
[Gods she's so close]
[Who am I? WHAT IS MY NAME!?!?]
[Oh, her eyes are gold-colored too.]
What actually came out of her mouth was:
"Oh! My... Uhm, my name is Grace."
At that moment, the angel's smile grew wider, showing the barest hint of perfectly white teeth.
"Grace. Pretty." She tilted her head slightly, studying Grace with an intensity that made her want to spontaneously combust. "You're not afraid."
It wasn't a question, but Grace answered anyway.
"S-Should I be?"
The angel's wings shifted again, and Grace could have sworn she saw amusement flash across those stunning features.
"Most humans are. Especially the ones with something to hide." She took her eyes off Grace for a moment, which itself felt like taking a weight off her back. "Not that they should be concerned. My business lies with the forces outside of human civilization, not within it."
There was weight to those words. Even she, an angel, the being tasked with keeping demons away, had a cautious tone when speaking of them.
But all she could focus on was how the angel's eyes seemed to see right through to Grace's soul.
"Well... I'm just a farmer," Grace managed, proud that her voice only shook a little. "Nothing to hide here! Unless you count the fact that I may have accidentally flooded my chicken coop this morning, hehe..."
The angel's laugh was like bells chiming, beautiful and somehow terrible at the same time.
"A terrible crime indeed." She stepped even closer, and Grace forgot how to breathe. "Tell me, little farmer, what do you know about demons?"
Being called "little" by this magnificent being made Grace's face red.
"Um, that they're bad? And scary? And we should definitely avoid them at all costs?" Grace clutched her basket tighter. "Which I do! Avoid them, I mean. Very successfully! Haven't been eaten once!"
The angel nodded.
"Good, well done. Additionally, you should also know that they can't die," she noted, her eyes drifting away, her expression becoming more contemplative. "They cannot be slain. All I or anyone else can do is push them back. It might seem like they're dead, but at some point, that demon will get back up."
She looked back at Grace.
"So, if you see anything... unusual," the angel said, her voice low and serious, "you stay as far away from any demons as you can, right?"
Grace nodded so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash.
"Yes! Absolutely! Y-You won't see me trying to stand up to any of those things, hehe."
Another flash of that deadly smile.
"Good. Take care, little farmer."
And with that, she turned away, clearly dismissing Grace from a conversation that nearly made her heart stop.
Grace stood there for a moment, brain trying desperately to process what had just happened. Then, she quickly spun around and speed-walked toward home.
[Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, OH MY GOSH! A gorgeous angel just talked to me about demons while being unreasonably attractive a-and told me to 'take care', AGH! MY HEART!]
She didn't stop speed-walking until she was well past the gate, her heart racing from more than just the exercise.
[Father,] she thought hysterically, [I don't think your advice about commanding respect covered what to do when an actual angel talks to you. I blame you for this.]
---
The rest of Grace's day was... less than productive.
[Focus! The wheat needs watering!] she told herself firmly, standing in the middle of her field with the watering can. [Stop thinking about how her wings, or how tall she was, or her body, or... AGH!]
She realized she'd been watering the same spot for five minutes.
"UGH!" Grace threw her hands up, nearly dropping the can. "This is ridiculous! She was probably just doing her job! Informing random villagers about demons and... being unreasonably attractive while doing it and... calling me 'little farmer' and..." She stopped, realizing she was talking to her wheat. Again.
A chicken clucked judgmentally from nearby.
"Oh, don't you start," Grace pointed accusingly at the bird. "You're not the one who had to look UP at the most gorgeous woman you've ever seen while trying to remember how words work!"
The chicken tilted its head.
"Sure, I guess I should get my mind off her and be doing my farm work more gracefully. But, is there a graceful way to shovel manure? Ugh."
Another judgmental cluck.
"You're right," Grace sighed, shoulders slumping, voice softening. "I'm probably being ridiculous. She's probably already forgotten about me. I mean, she's an ANGEL. I'm just..."
She paused briefly.
"I'm just me."
The sun was setting by the time Grace finally managed to finish her chores, though she may have rushed through the last few just a bit. She definitely hadn't been jumping at every shadow, wondering if she'd catch a glimpse of white wings or snarling teeth.
[At least nobody saw me stressing like this,] she thought, pulling her nightgown over her head. [Well, nobody except the chickens, and they're used to my weird behavior by now.]
Grace collapsed into bed, her body tired but her mind still racing. The angel's voice echoed in her memories:
"Take care, little farmer."
A shiver ran down her spine that had nothing to do with the cool night air.
"MMMMM!" She squealed into her pillow.
[Stop it,] she told herself firmly. [Go to sleep. Tomorrow you can go back to being a normal farmer. SLEEP. NOW.]
She squeezed her eyes shut, and eventually, darkness claimed her.
---
In her dreams, Grace stood in a field of golden wheat, but it wasn't her farm. The stalks stretched endlessly in every direction, swaying in a wind she couldn't feel. The sky above was the color of sunset, though there was no sun to be seen.
"Hello, little one."
Grace spun around and her jaw dropped.
Standing before her was... herself? But not quite. The woman had the same snow-white hair and golden eyes, but that's where the similarities ended. Where Grace was tiny and slight, this woman was tall and actually had visible breast. Very visible breasts. She moved in such a confident way that Grace felt small in comparison.
"Who...?" Grace managed. "Who are you?"
The woman's smile was both familiar and alien. She didn't respond at first, cupping Grace's cheek with a hand that simultaneously burned Grace and made her feel so much colder.
"I am." She leaned in a little, smiling as she inspected Grace, almost like she was a gem being turned in her palm. "And you will become."
"I... don't understand," Grace whispered.
"You will." The woman's expression turned serious. "But first, you must listen carefully." Her golden eyes began to glow, and suddenly the wheat around them burst into flames.
Grace tried to jump back, but the woman held her firmly in place.
"Don't be afraid," she said, her voice echoing with power. "When the time comes, run toward the flames."
"What?"
The woman's laugh in response was like bells chiming.
"Good luck."
---
Grace sat bolt upright in bed, heart pounding.
It was still nighttime. Grace was still in her nightgown, feeling somehow hot in the cold night.
[Oh, wow, whoa,] she panted, putting one hand on her chest. She could feel her heart trying to burst out. [What was...?]
Normally, when she woke up she usually forgot her dream right after. But, right now, after several seconds of breathing heavily, she could still that woman's face at the forefront of her mind.
A scream cut through the night.
Grace froze. For a moment, she thought she might have imagined it. But then another cry split the darkness, and this time, she saw it – an orange glow on the horizon, coming from the direction of the village.
She scrambled to the window, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste. Her heart, which had just started to calm down, began racing again for an entirely different reason.
Fire.
The village was on fire.
[No no no no—]
The flames painted the night sky in angry reds and golds, and even from this distance, Grace could hear the chaos. More screams. The clash of metal. And something else – something that made her blood run cold. A sound like nothing she'd ever heard before, halfway between a roar and a laugh.
[Demons,] her mind supplied helpfully. [There are...]
Another sound cut through the night. Not a scream this time, but a cry of pain. A cry that seemed to shake the very air, followed by the unmistakable sight of something large and white plummeting from the sky.
Grace's heart stopped.
"I-I need to go help, I need to..."
She wanted to. But, well, what exactly could she do?
That angel had said it before. She'd made it crystal clear.
Demons couldn't be killed. You could prevent them from winning, but you can't make them lose.
Logically, Grace should have stayed. Logically, Grace should have covered herself back up in her bed, shut her eyes, and hoped whatever was attacking the village wouldn't see her little farm.
But, those words rang in her skull again.
"Run toward the flames."
"Oh no," Grace whispered. "No, no, no, what am I supposed to do about this?"
But her body was moving before her brain could catch up. She didn't even bother changing out of her nightgown, just grabbed her father's old hunting knife from beside the bed and shoved her feet into her boots.
[This is stupid this is stupid this is SO STUPID—]
Her feet hit the ground.
She started running.
Toward the flames.