“Why are you so tall? You are not a human, are you?” She didn’t look the least bit frightened, affixed in her stance as she looked up at him.
Lucius found himself at a loss. Normally he abhorred being interrupted, no matter what the occasion, but he found it difficult to direct rage at something so tiny.
A woman suddenly rushed in, a little boy in the crook of her arm as she grabbed the little girl with her other one. “Please forgive me,” she stammered, struggling to meet his eyes. “They are supposed to be playing with the other children while I work.” Unlike her precocious daughter, the mother was afraid, her face partially concealed by her hood, her dress dusty and frayed. Their feet were all bare, the little boy’s face streaked with dirt. Again, Lucius felt no anger.
“It is no trouble,” he assured her. “I can understand her curiosity over our presence.”
“Thank you for understanding,” the mother said as she backed away. “I will make sure she does not bother you again.”
“It really is no trouble,” Lucius repeated. “If they ever wander over, I will send them back your way.”
The woman finally met his eyes with a smile, relief melting away her worry. “Thank you, sir. My name is Elissa. This is my son, Abibaal, and my daughter, Ashera.”
“Please, call me Azazel,” Lucius said, using the name Michael had instructed him to use.
“Bye, Azazel,” the little girl said with a wave as her mother gestured them away.
It was two days before she returned. This time, she was shadowed by her little brother, who shyly hung onto her arm. Lucius couldn’t help but smile, setting down his writing instrument and crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. “You came back.”
“My brother and I do not think you are like the rest of them,” Ashera said boldly.
Her brother crept closer, and for the first time, Lucius realized they were twins. “Is that right?”
“Yes,” she said as she edged in too. “I think you are like Ba’al, but from a land far away.”
Lucius blinked, recognizing the name of one of her gods, surprised she’d made such a connection. He found he could not reply, the way her rich brown eyes bored into his making him feel as though she saw right through him.
“Do not worry,” she assured him with a smile. “Your secret is safe with us.”
Lucius cleared his throat. “Does your brother talk?”
Ashera looked sad. “No, he has not spoken since our father died. He was a shepherd.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” Lucius said softly, rising from behind his desk. “However, I did promise your mother I would bring you back home if you came here again.”
“Alright,” Ashera sighed, her little hand slipping into his.
Lucius swallowed the strange emotion that rose in his throat. It faded when he thought of Nephthys, pregnant with children that were not his. He pushed thoughts of her from his mind, leading the children out of his tent and into the blistering sun.
The wind swirled the desert sand around their feet as they walked, and suddenly he wondered if their bare feet burned from the heat. They seemed unaffected, guiding him through the town towards their small hut, furthest from the market. He recognized one of the original Watchers, Armaros, standing near a cart offering various nuts and grains for sale. He waved as the woman next to him looked away with a mischievous smile.
Lucius quickly diverted his eyes, hoping no one else would notice them walking through the town. He preferred solitude as he observed from afar, unwilling to make any acquaintances with Watchers or humans alike. Finally, they reached the children’s home. He immediately noticed its wear and tear, the thatched roof nearly gone, the mud brick crumbled and patched with flimsy clay. Ashera lifted the wool rug that covered the doorway, gesturing him inside. The house was small but kept clean and free of clutter, with stacks of blankets at one side and a spindle at the other. Elissa was asleep against the wall, her hands still wrapped in yarn as if she’d drifted away from exhaustion while she worked.
“Hi, Mama, we brought Azazel,” the little girl said cheerfully, jolting her mother from slumber.
Again, her eyes were stricken with fear. She looked around her wildly, piecing together what she had done.
“Do not apologize.” Lucius held out a hand, stopping her before she could speak. “I needed to stretch my legs.”
The children ran to their mother, who held them tightly in her arms, grateful they’d returned. “My husband died several years ago and I must work extra to feed them,” she explained tearfully, gesturing to the spinning wheel and piles of wool gathered on the floor. Her hands were raw from the labor, her eyes rimmed with red.
Lucius frowned. “Perhaps I could help you make money.” He went over to the low fire burning nearby as he pulled a piece of metal out of his pocket. Elissa and her children watched as he held it in the flames for a short while before grabbing it and twisting it quickly with his fingers. He didn’t feel any pain—he’d always liked the warmth—but still he worked fast, lest the metal cool and harden, until it resembled a bracelet.
“See,” Ashera whispered. “I told you he was a god.”
After it cooled, Lucius handed the bracelet to the awestruck woman.
“I do not think I could do that,” she whispered.
Lucius rose to his feet and shrugged. “I could make more for you if you would like. I am easily bored in this world.”
“You are not like any of the others,” Elissa said quietly.
“That is because I am not one of them,” Lucius confirmed before he could help it. He bent down to say goodbye to Ashera and her brother. “I am sure I will see you again soon.”
She startled him with a hug, drawing a sound of shocked disapproval from her mother.
Lucius awkwardly left, hurrying out of their hut and back into the parched air. The sun was low in the sky as he headed home, his mind beginning to concoct ways to help her earn money. It wasn’t right that the Watchers killed their husbands, regardless of their intentions. It hadn’t meant much to him when one of the angels he traveled with explained it, relaying the story of how the Watchers secretly lured the men to their deaths so they could take their place amongst their women. He scarcely took anyone’s stories for truth, but if they had killed them, they killed not only husbands, but fathers. That notion was appalling enough to him, but it was particularly senseless if some of the women, like Elissa, hadn’t been chosen and left to fend for herself.
“I see you have met Elissa,” a teasing voice interrupted his thoughts. He turned to see Armaros leaning against a post.
Lucius scowled. “Is there a particular reason you are watching me?”
The creature laughed behind his dark beard. Most of the Watchers had grown them, attempting to look more human than angelic, covering the impossibly youthful skin common to them all. “You spend so much time alone that your sudden presence in town provokes attention. I think this might be the first time I have seen you walking about. It makes sense it is to the home of the loveliest widow in town.”
“If she is so lovely, then why has no one else claimed her?”
Armaros laughed again. “You think no one has tried? She refuses them all. Except for you, that is.”
