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The summer heat had calmed, and the air was starting to become crisp, almost fall.
It was only the third time that the two had used the stones that their Prince and his master had given them. They wore them on long chains around their necks as they walked together to the top of the cliff. When they reached the place they'd chosen, they looked at each other, and began.
Angelo's fingers gently, tentatively wrapped around the stone that he wore, as if careful not to upset its magic, though he knew that it was safe, locked away until he spoke the incantation. Miguel, having no such worries, took his in a firm grip.
Cesare looked between them as if to say, well, go ahead.
The two closed their eyes and began to speak. The incantations weren't the same. They had been newly written, customized for each of them. They'd had to be -- this was powerful magic, and since all beings were different, there couldn't be a spell this powerful that would work the same way on two different users.
It still felt so odd even the third time, this sensation that ran through them, of their bodies extending behind them, of growing parts that humans shouldn't have.
Well. They weren't human anymore, were they?
And these parts, larger and softer than arms, were good for other things than flying. They didn't need wings to fly.
When his pair had extended completely, Angelo shook them behind him, letting the feathers separate and feel the air. He opened his eyes, and looked to Miguel, who did the same back at him.
Angelo gasped at the sight of his companion. Miguel's wings were beautiful. Opalescent feathers in gentle, pastel shades, glimmered in the fading light of the sunset. An angel... a real angel... Even as the sight sent waves of surreal wonder through his being, he was aware that he himself was the same, that he had wings. It only added to the strange, floating sensation.
And Cesare stood by, watching his angels admiring each other, and admiring them himself, as well. They looked to their Prince, took his hands, and embraced him, wrapping their wings around him, and each other as well. For a moment, it took Cesare by surprise, but he smiled, and leaned forward into Miguel's shoulder, running fingers through his hair that had grown slightly longer recently. Angelo held his Prince, kissing his neck and shoulders, and his hair.
It's because of him that we're immortal.
The thought ran through Angelo's mind from time to time. It had been almost 20 years since they'd been transformed, and the life he'd had before was still a fresh memory. They still heard news about the lives -- and deaths -- of people they'd known then. In the powerful circles they had moved in as humans, how could they not? Yet Angelo still remembered a time when those powerful circles had been like a faraway dream to him, a time when he had been truly ordinary.
When he'd first become attached to Cesare, things had moved so fast. He hadn't had time to think about it, to realize that he, himself, was living in palaces, witnessing a papal conclave, seeing the gears of power turn at the very center... and being accepted as not just an assistant, but as a close personal friend and lover, to the son of one of the most powerful human beings alive. Later, when after a few months, the idea had settled on him of where he was, what he was... it had given him chills. He didn't think he'd ever really gotten used to it.
And their transformation past that, beyond the bounds of humanity, into something... magical... he supposed he'd get used to it after a few decades, though the thought of such a vast time stretched out in front of him made him dizzy.
And Miguel, and Cesare... they felt similar things, though they didn't often say it. During their travels, or their studies, at times when, exhausted, they'd take a rest only to lie in each others' arms and stare up at the stars, one or the other of the two would give a brief comment, words that might seem strange, or meaningless, were it not that Angelo had been having the same feelings.
Here, far from where they'd began, the air, the plants and animals, were so different, yet something about them was the same. The trees were green, just starting to turn gold and red. The sky showed them brilliant shades of orange and purple as the sun set, some new, and some as familiar as anything.
And Cesare and Miguel, though transformed, were familiar to him.
The clothes they wore were nothing like before. Miguel and Angelo couldn't wear anything that would cover their backs and block their wings, but they'd gotten used to showing a lot more of their bodies than they'd been allowed to in Rome. The three had started dressing almost like ancient gods, in soft draping fabrics that covered less of them than their jewelry did.
But that was only a visual change. Even though Angelo knew that in truth, every fiber of their bodies had changed from human into something else, he still felt the comfort of familiarity from Cesare's powerful shoulders and soft air, and from Miguel's firm hand on his waist, and deep, gentle laugh.
They would fly, later. It was what they'd come here to do. But for now...
