12. Wounds

Valerian returned to his home, gladness filling his heart and soul. He felt a sense of refresh-ness that originated from a source outside of what he knew.

It was deep and high at the same time, he truly felt like a bird that had been set loose. Free.

Upon arrival, he stumbled upon his mother, his face still featuring its smile. He made her heart jump in surprise, and hope.

Even if only about a day had passed since he returned home, she had felt him draw farther from her than now.

His eyes had gained a new layer of maturity. Thoughtful and very calm. It scared her. Although the young man had always been level-headed, it was different this time. He seemed to have taken multiple steps forward in terms of mental growth.

If only she knew that he bore the wounds of a place so worse and empty of joy or happiness that being back on Earth had forced him to view the world through a different lens.

"Oh, mom." Valerian's voice had been pleasant when he passed by her. His simple words had caused her heart to swell in joy and also pain. She still felt guilty. Badly even so.

What had gotten over her during his time of maltreatment? She wondered, unable to recognize the memory of herself then.

Valerian walked up the stairs, almost skipping.

The house felt empty now that his sisters were not home, but it didn't matter to him at that moment.

He proceeded to lock himself in his room and spent the next few hours drenched in the events that had occurred at the church.

It still sent shivers down his spine.

He had only caught a glimpse of the angel, but it had been enough to establish in his mind that they were beautiful.

"So this is what it feels like to be born anew," Valerian muttered gazing at his right palm, his tone suggested he had entered a daze. A happy one.

His eyes suddenly regained their focus, however, and he sat up to search for something. The gift Mr. Franklin had presented to him.

A good book; the man had called it handing it over to him with a smile. Valerian wondered, even if he had a clear idea of what had been given to him.

Sliding his palm against the brown leather cover, he admired the scent that came from the book and its sturdiness. It looked and felt expensive.

Turning its hardcover, he flipped into the pages of the book and smiled at what he saw.

Taking note of the manually written words on the first page, he felt his interest reach a new level.

"The manual to the truly Divine," he muttered taking in that sentence before flipping to the next page, where surprisingly the book immediately started after a presentation of the various chapter it contained.

"In the beginning…"

Valerian read for hours, unable to pull his gaze from the texts written in the book.

They were shocking, outrageous even. Yet they continued to pull in his interest.

He read about the lives of men, whose name he had heard multiple times in his life, but they bore a new meaning to him now.'

He was reading their history, but that wasn't the most fascinating of the strange book. No, it was the fact that the only reason those men, or nations as it would be were anything special was because of the one they called their god.

At first, he simply read for fun, but it changed down the line, especially when it got to moments were truly outrageous events were recorded to have occurred.

They felt astonishing and rather crazy to believe, but his experience would also be incredibly hard to believe, but he knew what he felt and experienced. He knew they were true, so he had almost no choice, or rather every reason but to believe.

Nevertheless, it got hard, which was when he decided to drop the book.

He had immersed himself in its words and they had drained him. Or rather than being drained, he had reached the limits of what he could take in.

Falling on his bed with a sigh, Valerian felt his mind replay the images of what he had imagined during his reading session.

The people mentioned in its pages reminded him of himself. It was too relatable. Especially when they were defiant.

He felt guilty but didn't at the same time. Or he felt that would be the guilt he felt had he not experienced the freedom of the water submersion.

Heaving a deep sigh, he sat up and raked his hand through his blonde hair. His parents had ensured that it had been neatly trimmed during his month of coma.

Staring at himself in the mirror; his mind still filled with the manual, he diverted from the thoughts and speculations that grew in his mind by admitting how good he looked. But he did so silently.

After which he returned to thinking.

Valerian left his room to take in some fresh air, he brought with him the tray his mother had delivered to him during his hours of reading.

His footsteps down the stairs unfolded soon, and Valerian heard his parent's hushed voices come to a complete stop and he couldn't help but shake his head.

"What are the planning now?" He muttered reaching the ground and branching towards the kitchen where he placed his tray on the sink.

"I'm going for a stroll," he announced approaching the door. He was going to leave them to whatever they were discussing.

To his mild surprise however his dad's voice reached his ears, but the man lacked the confidence and dominance he once was so familiar with.

"I and your mom think it's best you remain inside. Safe," Ronald pointed out glancing at his wife in slight uncertainty.

Valerian stood silent; back facing his parents. His un-immediate reaction caused his parents to begin to fidget.

"You think I am some psycho because of what I said yesterday, and you don't want trouble for yourselves," he turned, an eyebrow arced as he watched his parents try to address the issue.

"That's not true Val-e-erian," his dad could only say that much before lowering his gaze.

"Then what is?" Valerian tilted his head to the side, his voice still calm and collected.

His parents fell silent, and a mood he knew too well suddenly erupted forth, tainting the air with its negativity and almost making his countenance fall.

"The killers of your brother are still out there. You just got back, we don't want to lose you. Even your sisters changed schools," Miranda explained when she saw that her husband remained unable to voice those words.

Even she felt tears begin to choke her voice. It took all she had not to start crying on the spot.

Valerian was almost in the same state, but he felt sadness for a whole different reason. That would be none other than his uncertainty about where his brother went after he died.

A sigh escaped his mouth as wounds he thought had completely healed revealed that they still required more time,

"I understand." He agreed with their logic. It was true after all. "I'll be in my room," he announced, walking up the stairs. The bang of his door closing reached the sitting room. But the air of sadness refused to depart from his parents, so they stayed in silence for a long while.

In the meantime, their second and only son returned to his new book.