When the first new angel came back, Zeke gave them a rundown of how to wrap Haziel’s shoulder and bicep with the couple yards of tent fabric they came back with. The soldier on his stool sat in stoic silence while he worked on the rod in her arm. So began his placement in the army, as a medic.
It was the work he needed.
* * * *
The fourth time the army stopped to fight, it wasn’t by choice.
Demons had turned on them in the middle of the march through a place called the Radiant Downs. It was lush, green. Different than the frontline had been. Not for long though.
When they entered the Downs, Zeke had teared up at the sight of green, towering trees on either side of the Axis, soft yellow dandelions all along the gentle slopes their road passed between. Violets and bluebells crowned all the higher spaces. Rich green scents flowed between the tired angels he marched with, overpowering the faint sweaty smell coming off the skin.