After some travel, the two found themselves in another abandoned home sheltered above the city. It wasn't long before they were completely bare once again, but rather than joining as one, they merely enjoyed each other's exterior. The two were on their sides atop a bed. Rhys' hand had settled on her hips, while Mehira stroked his cheek. Their legs interlocked. He took note of an elaborate design right about where her navel would be. Perhaps since she was molded, that was her mark of birth?
"What do you think will become of us now?" Rhys asked.
Mehira turned slightly to look out at the darkened city. "Better things," she replied. "Far better."
"I worry I've sullied--" A finger came to his lips.
"You have not sullied a thing. It was my choice alone to lock ourselves in the bonds of eternity. No matter what events that might transpire, I cherish it, even now." She pulled her hand, presenting the ring.
Rhys nodded. "I don't think I could have imagined being so blessed." He smiled softly. "I must sound so awfully repetitive now. Just that words can't express the joy I'm feeling." The world finally made sense. To find companionship was right. Only he hadn't expected it to be with the heavenly.
"Then stow your words." She pulled him into an embrace, laying his head above her breasts, nestling into her nape. "Enjoy the rights of our union." Her words echoed through him. "I had not expected such a messy outburst from you, Rhys," she said with a giggle.
"And the one to yell out the name of the Lord?"
"It certainly was not in vain if that is what you say," she replied, a smile in her timbre. Rhys hummed as he buried himself further into her neck. It almost felt surreal to be here in this very moment. Having this large, fiery woman lie down on the bed next to him. Though her once bright flame had simmered down to more like a wavering light, flickering like an ember.
"If this center ever truly is saved. This city. Do you think you would like to live in a tower like this?"
"We have a home to form and make our own, do we not?"
"Oh, right." It had hardly been a day and it felt like his time in that small town was eons ago. Did anything even remain of that pile of matchsticks? Hopefully. He'd had enough adventure for his whole life. A good time to be fulfilled on that front, he supposed, considering there was a new chapter of his existence to begin.
"That is for another time. How is your leg?"
"Fine, for the most part." Dressing up the truth. In reality, Rhys had put far too much pressure on his leg during the rendezvous with Mehira. It pulsed with a dull pain that was frankly a sort of badge of honor now. "I'll be fine in a day."
"I am sorry that my healing is no match for that of Prosa's."
"You are healing enough." Not that he even wanted to talk about Prosa. Rhys didn't know whether he should still be perturbed that Prosa sent Mehira here alone, or thank him for the opportunity to get to know her. And commit to her. While a smatter of doubt lingered in his mind about the union, he resolved to enjoy it for the day. After all, Mehira was still here. In this very moment he could hold her closely. "Do you think it would be safe to stay the night here?"
Mehira raised her head to look at the door. "I do not need to fall under the spell of sleep." She ran her hand through his hair. "I will protect you."
Rhys pulled away. "And if I have to protect you?"
"Then I expect you to fight with all the vigor and might that dwells within you."
"Even more."
Mehira turned her head and stuck her hand out in the air. "It is a more than excellent adornment, however, perhaps we should return it to its rightful place?" She sighed. "Though it pains me."
"I would think that it would only go forever unused, maybe even sullied by the sinned."
She turned back to him. "Perhaps... Perhaps this one particular instance it would be best to see it adored and cherished."
_
Vacating the room in the morning was a taxing affair. As Rhys dressed on the bed, he stared out at the city, now bathed in a bright gold. Mehira insisted to continue on her pilgrimage. That was fine. He had already agreed to follow her to the very ends of the Earth. What worried Rhys now was the ramifications of their relationship. No doubt Mehira could see the uncertainty underneath. In a way it was refreshing not having to keep up a facade of comfort. On the other hand, not being able to comfort a loved one with the emotional mask was disheartening. He couldn't even pretend to be alright.
The angels, as far as Rhys knew, still needed messengers. It wasn't as though their bond was broadcast for all the heavens to see. Yet at the same time, with the enigmatic nature of the cherubim and what other angels there were, they likely had some way to tell. Large ring aside. Mehira presented her ringed hand to help him up.
"Thank you," Rhys said with a nod.
Mehira returned the gesture. She knew the uncertainty of the situation. All they could do now was venture out into the world. Rhys picked up his pack as Mehira set her last piece of armor in place. It was time. The pair prayed and then apologized to those who once owned the room and set off.
While the trip out of the building took some time, Rhys hardly felt its length at all. In his head rolled a pained thought. He pictured Mehira's beauty. He pictured their time together. He thought about the life they could live. Might live. As they approached the entrance to the building, that possibility of happiness seemed to shrink with every step. Mehira opened the entrance.
There, out in the open, flanked by two cherubim, was Prosa. This was the end of their union. The angelic Authority would rip it cleanly to shreds. Though there was something off about the angel, as if he were tired or somehow uninterested in this affair. His posture wasn't at attention, nor was his halo in a spinning frenzy.
"Prosa," Mehira said with a nod. She came to a stop.
Rhys quickly settled against her side. If they were to part, he would stay by her to the very end.
The cherubim hit their weapons at the ground, causing Prosa to stand at attention.
"Mehira, and the protected, Rhys," Prosa began. "Your continued light is a blessing."
"Likewise. May I ask the reason for this visit?"
Prosa's halo picked up speed. "Your... pilgrimage is to come to an end. The center is no longer your concern." Rhys' eyes widened.
"Have I failed in this task?"
"No. No, you have succeeded." It almost sounded like he wanted to append "apparently" to that sentence. "The cherubim urge you to return to the village and embed yourself as its guardian."
Rhys quietly sighed in relief.
"What was the pilgrimage?" Rhys asked. After all that, he had to know.
Prosa shook his head. "Freedom, protected Rhys. Freedom." That didn't answer his question, but he wasn't going to pry any further. "A freedom that many have pained and bled over."
"A freedom?" Mehira asked.
"We are not to question this development. That is all." Prosa bowed his head and marched off with the cherubim in tow.
