The Angel of the Lighthouse

The Angel of the Lighthouse

By

Lydia Fane

Copyright Lydia Fane 20126

All Rights Reserved

The sun was setting over the ocean. With his back against the lighthouse wall, at its base, Aries looked out at the view in front of him as the water seemed to turn to molten gold. The sky above was darkening now, oranges and reds flaring in broad stripes near the horizon as the blue above darkened towards twilight. The gentle breeze tugged at his hair, and carried the sounds of the sheep to him.

The first stars were starting to burn in the sky, and Aries turned his head without thinking, feeling the pull of his soul. The first star, Hamal, burned brightly as the other stars slowly appeared, the constellation of Aries taking form. He ached with loneliness in that instant, as he did night after night. His brothers and sisters were gone, scattered out into the world, no longer known to him.

His soul burned within him, as the stars began their nightly journey. Somewhere, the third part of his soul walked the earth, unknowing of what it was.  In all his long years, he was yet to find it, to complete him, and to heal the hole within himself.

As someone prods a loose tooth to test that it is indeed loose, Aries reached inside himself to the darkly gleaming shadow around his soul. Still there. Still unfilled.

But while he was within himself, something else stirred, deeper within him. Something that didn’t belong – something that was out of place. It wasn’t a sight, a smell, or anything from any of his other physical senses. This was something purely mental.

Aries pushed himself to his feet and moved around the comforting bulk of the lighthouse, looking inland. Behind the pine trees, in the distance, a storm was coming. It loomed like a giant black wave, lightning flickering in its depths. The wind picked up again, carrying the reek of despair with it.

Unnatural. That was what the storm was. Phantom rain prickled at his skin, sharp jabs of near pain as the wind tugged at his unseen wings. Demon-borne storm.

Sensing that something wasn’t right, the herd of sheep that lived on the island with him and the other lightkeeper began to crowd forward, milling around him in a tight circle, seeking comfort. He petted their woolly backs, and gently began chivvying them towards their barn beside the guest cottage.

He made sure that they were secure and fastened the storm shutters, working in a kind of absent-minded daze. Something else was tugging at his mind now, something beside the oncoming demon storm. There was something else out there, something that he needed to see.

When he was sure the sheep were as secure as he could make them, he left the barn and jogged to the lighthouse. The storm was almost upon him, the air shivering with the pressure of the thunder waiting to be unleashed. A soft drizzle of rain was already falling, turning the emerald grass underfoot into a slick hazard. Aries caught himself as one foot slid out from underneath him, and the wind almost seemed to laugh at his near fall.

With the ease of long practise, he rigged his own cottage for the oncoming weather, making sure every door and window was as secure as possible. Carefully, he crossed the grass again to bang the heel of his hand on the other cottage. There was a pause before the door opened.

“Storm coming,” Aries said immediately. “It’s going to be a bad one.”

The man in the doorway looked up at the sky, glaring at the dark streaks of sky as though they had personally offended him. “We weren’t forecast a storm,” he grumbled.

“Demons.”

“Damn it. You want a hand, Aries?” the man asked.

With the faintest of smiles, Aries shook his head. “I’ll be fine. You keep yourself safe now.”

With a resounding crash, the man slammed the door shut in Aries face, and he heard the clunk of the stout bar being set in place.

Typical Scotsman,
Aries thought to himself.
Satisfied that his fellow lightkeeper was as safe as he could be, Aries turned towards the lighthouse.

The lighthouse stairs were no longer a challenge to him. As he climbed up the spiralling circuit, he could hear the howl of the wind increasing, even through the thick stone walls. At the top of the stairs, he opened the door, and stepped out.

The top of the lighthouse was a glass walled room surrounded by an iron railed balcony. In the centre of the room stood the light. It was electric, but Aries did not bother turning it on. On nights when he was on duty, he lit it by other means. Carefully, he laid one hand on the metal casing, and called forth his power.

Angelic fire sprang to life, a burning blaze that nothing, save him, could extinguish. It burned high and bright within seconds, pushing out into the darkness, lighting the storm. For the storm had arrived in that short time, black clouds blanketing the sky from horizon to horizon. Lighting danced through the sky, actinic streaks echoing mere seconds after the thunder. Up here, in the heart of the storm, Aries felt himself being pulled in two directions.

Demon sent, the storm challenged him to rise on wings of fire, to break it with his power. But at the same time, there was something calling him to restrain himself, to listen and to wait.

As the angelic fire burned brightly, Aries turned the radio on in case of emergency broadcasts. Given the speed with which the storm had come up, it was likely that someone, somewhere had been caught out.

The feeling still nagged at him though. He sighed, and made himself comfortable in the wicker chair next to the light. He stared at the heart of the burning fire, letting it be his focus as he slipped into a light trance. Thunder rumbled in his veins as his vision narrowed to that single spot of luminous blue-white fire.

There was a sense of satisfaction from beyond himself, a warm cocoon that engulfed him. Love, pure and wholesome touched his heart, calming him.

Save her
.

He understood the message as if it was branded into his bones. There was no voice to speak it, but it was as clear to him as his own name. In the heart of the fire, a face appeared. Her hair was a wheaten blonde, streaked nearly to white in places by the sun. Her eyes were a rich emerald green and sparkled with life. She was no classical beauty as mortals judged these things, but she called out to Aries as no one had called before. He skin was deeply tanned, and freckles dotted the bridge of her nose.

The face changed, paling in fear, rosebud mouth opening in a cry of panic, before the image vanished utterly. Aries reached for it as if to call it back, but it was gone beyond his sight, if not from his heart.

Save her.

Once more his bones resonated with the wordless command. He felt himself thrown upwards out of his trance, having gone far deeper than he had realised. The radio was squawking an urgent message.

“Mayday, mayday!” it called, but Aries could not hear the rest of the message as the voice on the radio and the face in his heart came together in one perfect whole. The voice on the radio belonged to the woman in his vision – Aries knew it immediately. They were one and the same. And she needed his help.

He rose to his feet and opened the door onto the balcony. The wind caught him and tried to rip him over the edge, and the rain battered him like a hail of needles, but he shrugged it off. He let all his concealments fade. She needed him, and he would answer. He turned towards the sea, his wings spreading wide, each steel grey feather reaching for the air.

Fear.

Panic.

Despair.

Emotions that were not his own battered at his mind, overpowering the persistent pulse of the storm. She was out there, and she was frightened for her very life. He followed the feeling, searching for his first sight of her. There was a blacker smear against the black sky, something floundering in the air. It was a small plane, one engine leaking smoke, and cruelly punished by the winds.

She was doing a valiant job of fighting to keep the plane in the air, but the taste of fear from her told him that she knew it was futile. And yet, she still fought on.

The smear of smoke abruptly thickened as the other engine failed under the strain of the demon storm. Despair spiked in his mind, as if white-hot nails were being driven into his core. It shattered whatever had been holding him to that one spot. The burning need to save her engulfed him in literal flame as he spread his wings to their fullest extent and rose to challenge the storm for the soul of this mortal woman.

***

The storm was gone now, its power broken as the tattered black clouds scudded over the sea. Behind the pine trees, the sun was beginning to rise, rosy fingers of dawn chasing away the remnants of the night’s chill. Quiet and still, Aries rested his hands on the metal railing of the lighthouse, and gazed out at the sea. Nothing tugged at his mind, no messages thrummed in his bones.

He should have been weary after his battle within the demon driven storm, but instead he was filled with a quiet exultation. She was safe now. The smoking remnants of her plane were scattered on the rocks and shingle of the beach below, slowly being pounded by the churning surf. He turned from the view and stepped back inside the glass tower, where his mystery lady lay.

A blanket of tight woven fire cradled her, warming her where she lay on the floor. Her eyes were closed and her breathing deep. Her tanned skin was mottled black with bruises, cuts and scrapes, but she had escaped major injury thanks to his actions. Likely, she would attribute it to luck.

Quietly, he knelt beside her, reaching out to touch one soft cheek with a fingertip. She drew him in – something about her called out to him. He wanted her, in a way that he had never wanted anyone before. He desired her, an emotion that he thought he would never feel. The strands of her hair were silky as he coiled them around his fingers. She was beautiful.

The door to the room opened, and the other lightkeeper poked his head around the doorframe.

“You still up?” he asked Aries.

“Yes,” Aries replied, and carefully scooped the woman up in his arms. She murmured as if in a dream and he paused till she settled again. As he turned around, the other keeper opened his eyes wide in surprise.

“Well, aren’t you just full of surprises,” he said. “Will I get any answers if I ask questions?”

“You might,” Aries replied with a smile. “Come down with me, and let’s talk. I want to get our guest settled comfortably, first.”

***

It took the walk back to his cottage to clear his mind. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to touch the full extent of his angelic powers that he’d almost felt drunk on the fire that had flowed through him. Everything had seemed hazy and unreal around the edges, as if he was walking through a waking dream.

The coolness of the breeze off the sea and the familiar sights and smells around him worked to bring him back to himself. The weight of the woman in his arms helped to ground him, and to reassure him that she hadn’t just been a figment of his imagination. The other lightkeeper walked beside him, quiet, trusting that Aries would give him an explanation in the fullness of time.

Jack Millar had been the second lightkeeper for over six years now, compared to Aries’s ten. The last lightkeeper had not been the most pleasant of men, and Aries had been wary when Jack was assigned upon the retirement of the other. But he had been worried for nothing. Jack was a personable man, willing to chat, but equally prepared to let Aries have his own space.

He knew that Aries was an angel, of course. With two men living and working in such close proximity to each other, some secrets could not be kept. But, in exchange, Jack had shared his own secret with Aries. He was a Selkie, a creature of the ocean, equally human and equally sea.

Once those secrets were out, the relationship between the two men had improved, and now Aries thought of Jack almost as a brother. His presence helped to lift some of the pain he felt from the absence of the rest of his family.

Jack opened the door to Aries’ cottage, and held it open for Aries to enter. Careful not to disturb the woman, Aries stepped through and turned towards his bedroom. The cottage was a small affair, but homely. The wooden stairs creaked in their familiar pattern as Aries climbed them, with Jack’s lighter footsteps behind.