Chapter 3 : Bad Miracles

Remmy’s POV

“As the Heavenly Host wept for their lost Brethren

The Angel of Storms had raged alone

For he would never accept the Fallen

As ever being truly lost.”

~ The Book of Lost Days

Ado, 11: 1

“You stink!” Rainwater, cold from a long night’s wait, collected in a dirty tin, splashed me in the face. “Get out of here, you bum! Fucking get!”

“I’m not a bum, areshole.” My legs were stiff, locked still in the kneeling position I’m struggling to get out off. The man, a butcher by the look of his filthy smock, kicked a can in my direction intending to hit me. A gust from my hidden wings was my only saving grace. “All right! I’m getting up, no need to be a dick about it!”