Sword of the Gods: The Chosen One

June – 3,390 BC

  Earth: Village of Assur

  Colonel Mikhail Mannuki’ili

  Mikhail

  “Mikhail,” Immanu called, his expression rushed. “The Chief wants you to meet him at his house.”

  “What's this about?” Mikhail asked.

  “He's gotten disturbing reports from a nearby village,” Immanu said. “I think he wants your help.”

  “When?” He wanted to speak to Immanu about courting his daughter, but by the worried expression on his face, now was not the time.

  “Right away." Immanu gestured for him to follow.

  Mikhail put down the buckets of water he'd been about to haul to the widow-sister’s house and straightened out.

  “I should change first." His shirt had dirt smeared down the front.

  “There's no time,” Immanu said. “The Chief has an emissary from the neighboring village.”

  “You forget I no longer need to walk,” Mikhail said. “I'll meet you at the Chief’s house before you can walk there.”

  Immanu nodded and hurried away. Leaping into the air, Mikhail flapped his wings until he felt the current catch the underside. He adjusted them into the wind to soar effortlessly into the sky. Flexing his primary feathers to catch maximum updraft, he winced as muscles overworked from yesterday’s little ‘twofer’ stunt complained. The bone ached where it had broken, but he pushed the pain to the back of his mind. It felt good to fly again, but inactivity had left him weak.

  Reaching the apex, he caught a glimpse of Ninsianna in the river washing clothes. Squelching the urge to swoop down and shout ‘surprise,’ he dove into the doorway of their house, pinning his wings to his side just as he touched down so he'd fit through the door still quasi in-flight.

  “Eeeek!!!"

  Needa dropped the medicinal herbs she'd been tying into bundles. The last thing she'd expected was to have her new ‘son’ come flying through the door.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just need to change."

  “We're going to have some RULES around here, young man!!!” Needa snapped. “No flying inside the house!”

  “Yes, Mama." He schooled an appropriate look of chastisement.

  Needa smiled at the endearment.

  Stepping behind the curtain that cordoned off his personal area, he emerged wearing his dress uniform shirt and jacket, but didn't bother changing his pants. Strapping his pulse rifle onto one hip and his sword onto the other, he straightened his collar and the medals he couldn't remember earning. He dipped his hands in the bucket of water kept in the room for washing before heading back out, his hands dripping water all over the floor.

  “Got to go!" He took off the moment he hit the threshold. The backdraft from his wings scattered Needa’s herbs.

  “Eeeee-vey!” Needa muttered to herself. She gathered up the herbs and resumed tying them into bundles. Life with Ninsianna’s avian friend was certainly interesting.