In the end, I got what I didn't know I wanted. Something that both impresses and terrifies me. I'm satisfied.

???

 "FOCUS, LITTLE BROTHER," SHE REPEATS for the millionth time. "Your powers will only obey your command if you know how to call them."

Nike—I got to get used to calling her by this name— began her lesson. For the past two sunsets, I've been attempting to awaken the power of empath within me. In simple words, my healing ability. The source of this power comes from the heart. Empath is the same as empathy, feeling the pain of another. Only when I share their feelings will my powers aid them.

I've sympathized with people but never empathized with them. All my life—my twenty-first-century life—the people around me were perfect. They love who there are; they know the feeling of happiness and feel it every day. I was the only one who was different. I wanted others to empathize and love me in ways I couldn't. I went through a different path than my siblings. Alex too. I only know pain and misery from my father and rejection and anxiety from school. And hatred from myself.

I felt love from Alex, but I've been numb for ages that I have forgotten what it feels like to love someone. To have them in your arms, to hear their voice comforting you when you're at your lowest, their fingers caressing your cheeks as they look deep into your eyes and swim in the river of your soul, indirectly saying they love you so much.

I've never empathized with him because there's no need to fix what's already perfect.

My eyes flicker open, and the injured rabbit remains as it is.

"You've strayed from your powers for a long time, Zelus. It's going to take some time before they gain your trust once again," Nike is hovering over the stream in a meditative posture. Her wings are still as they support her. I can almost picture her falling into the water and coming out drenched. I may not be able to stop giggling if that happens.

My eyes travel back to the rabbit lying in front of me. He's a full white bunny, having a resemblance to a puffy cloud. His left paw was bitten by a snake. The bleeding had stopped, but the venom paralyzed him. Nike found him limping somewhere in the woods and brought him to me, believing it was the perfect subject to practice my powers on. Though if I fail to heal him, she'll do the job before sending him home.

It seems like she may have to do just that.

"I'm trying, little guy," my index and middle finger lightly stroke its tiny head, assuring him I bring no harm. I was amused by how his floppy ears rotated every now and then like a pair of antennas looking out for signs of trouble.

"And that's exactly what you should be doing," she bosses. "Focus."

"I don't get it," she opens her eyes and looks at me. "For three days, I've been practicing my healing ability but not my flying capabilities. Why?"

"Flying is like walking, you'll learn them naturally, and therefore it isn't as important as your empath powers," she closes her eyes again. "Besides, I can see you will need your healing powers more than ever. Knowing that school you're attending, the humans are quite brutal to injure beings like us."

I remained silent because she had a point.

The evening is still young, as the sky is peach orange. There's still plenty of time before heading back home. I can't deny that I am exhausted from the lack of rest I've been getting these past weeks. It's always been training, studying, chores, and now practicing my powers. My phobia of cars is healing, as this timeline had no vehicle running on petrol or electricity. Though, my sore, busted legs would often wish to sit comfortably in one. The upper-class citizens rode horses; maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. Until I recalled that I had a pair of functioning wings attached to my spine. A daimon riding on a horse is like a bird getting an uber.

I gave the bunny one last thumb stroke on the back of its ears before closing my eyes and attempting to heal him again.

...

"WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?!"

My tone spooked the rabbit like a dog jolting awake from the sudden burst of fireworks at night.

"You're not taking this seriously, that's what," Nike's now standing in front of me. I had no idea when she got here. There wasn't a single sound or a gust of wind whenever she moved from one place to another. "If you did, the bunny here would've been healed by now."

"I've been focusing on his wound for god knows how long, wrecking my brain by calling my powers, but nothing's happening," I stand on my jelly legs and catch myself before falling back again. I've been sitting for what seems like forever, and I've lost the feeling in my legs.

"That's what you've been doing wrong," she reveals. "You've been calling your powers. Take this scene. You're at the marketplace, calling some stray dogs to come your way because you want to give them some food. Do you think they would all obey you? Maybe some, but the majority has trust issues, for they've been betrayed before. These animals have become strays for a reason, and they're afraid of stepping back into the wrong boundaries again, which means their guard is always up. Your powers are no different. You abandoned them, and now you need to gain their trust by letting them know that you're their rightful master."

She approaches the rabbit and gently picks him up, laying his back on her palm as her free hand gently placed on his injured leg. She closes her eyes, and not long after, a golden-yellow aura, the color of the sun, awakens from her palm, removing the wound from his legs.

Her eyes open, and her power fades. She got to her knees and placed the rabbit on the ground. He inspects his leg before comprehending that the wound is gone, and he takes a few minor jumps. He then leaps further into the woods, back to his life.

What would I give to be able to return back to my own life?

"You made it look so easy."

"It is easy... when you learn to master them," she turns around to face me. "You're going to practice this until you get it right, little brother. Failing is not an option. Do you understand?"

Now she's just sounding like a mother.

"Yes," either way, I acknowledge.

"Good," her voice calms. "Now go, get some rest. The usual time tomorrow."

She turns and leaps into the air, her wings carrying her higher into the clouds, disappearing from my sight within seconds. Nighttime is nearing, and I'm glad because my feet are killing me.

"Someday, it'll be me who's going to make a dramatic exit."

...

It had become a routine where I'd stop by the palace gatehouse to witness Perseus standing by the window in the tallest tower. He reminded me of Rapunzel, the long-haired maiden who was locked in the tower, and every night she'd stand by the window and dreamt of freedom. I wonder what he thinks when his eyes gaze into the endless, white freckled sky. Perhaps, he finds peace when the moon shines upon him, his eyes matching the majesty of it, a perfect orb with millions of secrets. I'd often assumed he was talking to the Gods of Olympus, but then again, what would someone as perfect as him want from the Gods? He's got the strength and looks that many boys would kill to have the charms when he isn't trying to be, and wealth.

If he had wings and powers, he'd make a better daimon than I could ever be.

Though tonight, the window stood no one, and the room was pitch black. I assumed he's already gone home. I picked myself up and continued down the path to the marketplace, where home was minutes away.

However, I stopped when the sound of a shield tumbles down from the high ground, and the clink of a sword followed. I thought nothing of it and assumed the royal family was practicing their sword skills, or the servants had accidentally dropped it while sorting them back. Nevertheless, I turned on my heel and returned to the gates, hoping to steal a peek at whatever was happening.

The gate is unlocked, not a single guard in sight, and I invite myself in through the aged maple door, hoping it wouldn't creek. I pass through the hallways leading to the courtyard, where the ruckus emerges. The cold of midnight was a slap to my cheeks. I fail to notice the many cobwebs occupying the corners of the ceiling and the eerie feeling of passing many candle sconces.

During the day, the castle is a school. At night, it's Dracula's mansion.

The closer I get to the door at the end of the hall, the more apparent the sounds become. My hand grasps the iced-cold knob and carefully opens a gap big enough to see who or what's behind the door. At first, it seemed like whatever or whoever was here had vanished, leaving the shields, spears, and swords dispersed on the ground.

I wanted to stick my head out to get a better view, but then I heard footsteps getting closer. My mind kept digging for a reasonable excuse shall the guards or, even worse, the king was to question my presence at the institution during this hour.

Though, thankfully the person didn't notice me.

I continue spying through the gap, and to my surprise, it's Perseus. A bow and arrow are in his hands. A quiver carelessly dangles on his back as he stands firm and positions the arrow toward the target standing before him. A scarecrow made from dried grass.

His muscles tensed, and his eyes were attentive as his lips parted just slightly, ensuring he doesn't miss. His fingers loosen on the arrow, creating an impact powerful enough that it pierces through the dummy, disintegrating it.

I was more afraid than impressed to even imagine I was the scarecrow.

He lowers his arms and sighs in relief as the bow falls from his hand. He wasn't in the tower today but in the courtyard, practicing by himself.

In the end, I got what I didn't know I wanted. Something that both impresses and terrifies me. I'm satisfied.

I begin closing the door slowly, hoping it wouldn't creak like every fucking door in this town.

"How long are you going to stand there, angel of envy?"

I felt my heart skip a beat, knowing he knew I was here all along.

I begged my wings to work and lift me away from the place, but they stood there as useless as they were. Though, even if I were to escape now, I'd have to face him in class eventually. Might as well suffer the consequences now and get it over with.

I just hope I'm not the next scarecrow.

Before my hand dared to open the door fully, he's already opened it, standing there, waiting for me to come out. I expose myself to the courtyard's surroundings, and he strolls past me.

"How'd you know I was here?"

"You're the only one here with wings," he pulls the arrow out from the scarecrow. "I can see you from a mile away. And yes, I know you have been standing by the gate every night."

He shoved the arrow back into the quiver and pulled it off his shoulder, keeping it aside before approaching me. I avoided seeing his appealing body where he only wore the bottom half of his tunic, and leather bracers hugged his arms.

"Why?" He asks, standing close enough that I can smell him. His body glistens from sweating, but he smells like the forest after rainy weather.

"You noticed, huh?"

He arched his head slightly in confusion.

"Who wouldn't?" He chuckles, and that was the first. "Your senses have to be sharp in battle. Knowing your enemies, they have countless ways to attack you."

"Are you saying I'm your enemy?"

He straightens his neck once again, sucking his lips.

"Depends," he said. "If you could tell me the truth as to why you're sneaking around the castle grounds when you're supposed to be home."

"I can ask you the same thing," I look into his perfectly jaded orbs, glistening as his skin.

"I live here," he gestures to the surrounding. "What's your excuse?"

Now it all makes sense why he would be in the castle every night, especially in that tower, as though he could enter any room he pleases. Though he actually could.

"You live here?" I ask again. "So, the window by the tower is your room?"

"Yes."

"Wait, then, who's the hooded maiden I'd often see you with?" I suddenly recall the mysterious woman who's always with him.

He's confused before answering.

"That's my mother," he claims, and now I really want to die, feeling incredibly ashamed thinking she was a prostitute.

"Oh," was all I could say, for I am still really fucking embarrassed.

Luckily, he turned around and started picking up the weapons used before I showed up. My hands fan my burning face as I inhale deeply, attempting to forget the entire topic of his mother. And it worked when I noticed his left ankle was bleeding.

"You're bleeding," those words slip past my lips without consent.

He looks at me and then at his ankle.

"The sword fell from my hands and made that," he speaks as though it's no big deal. Maybe it wasn't. It's just me who's still not used to being okay with wounds and blood and pain and soreness. "It's alright, I've suffered worse, and it's normal for men to be injured. Always remember that the battlefield shows no mercy."

He arranged the weapons back in their vaults and shut the doors. He picked up a scruffy, swirled pattern cloth hanging by the handle and dried the sweat on his face. He's heading towards me again.

"A little help, if you'll please?" He stops in front of me, sticking out his injured ankle.

I knew he wanted me to use my empath powers, and I could feel the hatred towards myself for not practicing hard enough because if I had, I could've impressed him right now.

"I can't," I felt guilty saying that.

"Look, I'm sorry if you're upset about our training sessions, but you have to know, I'm only doing my task," he straightens his back. Man, he's taller than me.

"It's not that," I assure. "It's going to sound stupid, but I've forgotten how to use my powers."

He nods slowly.

"That explains why you'd clean your own wounds rather than using your powers," he said. "What happened, angel of envy?"

"I don't know," what else am I supposed to say? I'm from the twenty-first century and don't know how to work the body of a daimon?! "I've just forgotten everything. As of now, I'm just a regular person. Well, an ordinary person with flightless wings.

"You can't fly too?" His eyes rest on my wings. "I always thought you were an arrogant pupil for always coming late, but I understand now it's because you can't fly."

Gee, thanks for the honesty.

"It's been rough," I shrug my shoulders.

"Would you like me to show you how?"

I froze.

"How?" I blurt. "You do not possess wings; how could you possibly know the ways of flying?"

"Just trust me," he jogs back toward the vault and pulls out a spear and a shield. And I knew what was coming. He came back and handed me the shield. "Chiron once told me that to achieve the impossible, you must first learn to communicate with it. So, let's talk to your wings, shall we?"

"How are you going—"

Before I could finish my question, he thrust the spear in my way, and I barely dodged it.

"Summon your powers, angel of envy," he charged toward me, and it brought back memories of the first time we dueled.

"I'm not going to lose this time," I bounce to my feet and shield myself from his attack. Or so I thought as his legs swiped across mine, and I crashed on my back. "Stop it!"

"You stop it," he straight up kicks my face, and I spit blood.

I got up and began running, but he was faster than I was, and he kneed my back.

"Stop me now because it's going to get worse."

And right then, the taste of blood in my mouth made me afraid. I could see myself dying in the next second, but I continued running. He caught my wing as if he were pulling a dog's tail and drove me toward the ground.

"What are you doing?!" He sounds annoyed. "Use your powers!"

"Enough! Stop it!" my arms shield my eyes as I accept defeat. "You're not helping! You're making it worse!"

I expected my eyes to remain closed after the final hit from his spear. But instead, I find my body suddenly feeling light with a small gust of wind tickling my calves. I wait for a moment, and then my eyes flutter open, and I notice Perseus standing in front of me with a victorious smile.

"Are you sure?"

That's when I realize he is shorter than I am. But no, it's me. I gaze down to see my legs floating above the ground and the shadow of my wings as I'm in the air.

"I'm... flying?" I didn't want to believe it even though I was witnessing it. I wanted to take off and scream proudly after months of being unable to fly, but I was too happy to move.

"Your wings had responded to your call, at last," he said. "Well done."

"I'm flyi—" and just like that, my wings said 'sike!' and released me as I fell on my face and kissed the sand of the field.

I didn't want to get up. Frustrated by how I felt the joys of flying for only a few seconds, and now I'm back to square one. It's like experimenting on Wings all over again. The milliseconds of joyous thoughts and the constant falling from time to time. In a way, the thought of Wings fueled my hope, and I believed that someday, I would fly for real.

I will.

Perseus slipped his hand under my arm and pulled me to my feet.

"Now, just like everything in life, you'll need to practice calling upon your powers when you need them," he helps to dust the sand off my shoulders, and I brush my face.

"Thanks, but was there no other way aside from attacking me?"

He laughs.

"Unfortunately, not, but the important thing is that it worked."

I find it hard to grasp the fact that this is the same Perseus I met on the first day of school. The same Perseus who gave me more bruises than my dad ever did, the same Perseus who I thought despised me when he'd catch me glancing at him at the cafeteria. It's as though someone had kidnapped the Perseus I had known and replaced him with this new, kinder version of himself.

He reminded me of the day Alex and I met for the very first time. He showed me how to skate when I didn't ask for it, and Perseus taught me how to fly even when he had no wings. For some reason, this feels very nostalgic.

"We got off on the wrong foot, haven't we?" he holds his hand out. "As you know, Perseus. Nice to meet you again, angel of envy."

"We sure did," I take his hand in mine, shaking it. Our hands are sweaty. "And just call me Zelus."