39. The weight of the wings (part two)

As the storm faded, the scent of brine lingered in the air, mingling with the faint hum of energy that seemed to vibrate beneath their feet. The dreamscape settled into a fragile calm, but Lucas felt the echoes of the tempest brushing against his skin. It was as if the memory itself still breathed. Lucas felt a strange pull, as though the memory was beckoning him deeper into Kyle's past.

Lucas chuckled softly, though his brow furrowed with curiosity. "But wasn't Lugh's mentor supposed to be some sort of sea god?"

"Manannán, the guardian of the threshold," Kyle replied, his tone carrying a mix of amusement and melancholy. "The Celts gave us that name. Most of the time, what they saw was Michael. He guided their souls, carrying them to the Underworld. But they were in my domain once those souls crossed the threshold."

Lucas's brow furrowed more profoundly as he tried to process the layers of what Kyle had shared. "Are you and your brothers tied to many gods in different mythologies?"

Kyle scratched the back of his head, his expression shifting into something between embarrassment and thoughtfulness. "Not all of them. Some gods were powerful elemental spirits in their own right. Take Danu, for example—a water spirit. She became Michael's... friend." Kyle's lips quirked slightly as if the word didn't quite fit. "He taught her to meditate and refine her spiritual energy, drawing her closer to divinity over centuries. Her affinity for balance and growth led her to ascend to the Silver City."

Lucas's eyes widened. "So, she became an angel? Or a god?"

Kyle shrugged. "She didn't align with Heaven's hierarchy like Michael or his choir did. But her connection to the divine grew strong enough to transcend her origins. The Celts saw her as the mother of gods, performing miracles. For Michael, though, she was always just Danu—a water spirit who chose her path."

Lucas shivered slightly. "Are there a lot of beings like her?"

"Define 'a lot.' Hundreds, maybe thousands. It used to happen more often when magic was abundant in nature. But not so much anymore," Kyle replied. His tone lightened with a wry smile. "Danu's children, de Tuatha dé Danann, including Lugh, were powerful in magic, being able to perform feats that become materials of legends."

The dreamscape was now totally different. The golden hues of the shoreline softened, giving way to a gentle dawn. The world rearranged like a melody re-tuning, the sound of waves replaced by a faint, haunting tune carried on a breeze.

Kyle's words hung in the air, and the dreamscape shimmered. Lucas stepped closer, looking for Kyle, but then he felt it. A faint mist clung to the air, imbued with a strange magic that made the atmosphere feel alive, as if the land were breathing. The soft breeze on his cheeks pulsated to the rhythm of an otherworldly melody, haunting yet beautiful.

The melody tugged at something buried, a fragment of a memory he thought he'd left behind. The way the air bent to the music, alive and playful, felt familiar. Could it be him? The thought of the man from the concert resurfaced, stirring emotions Lucas hadn't fully unpacked. Wanting to know the truth, he headed in the direction the music was playing.

On a rocky outcrop overlooking the ocean, young Lugh sat cross-legged, his brow furrowed in concentration. His bright eyes, filled with both determination and frustration, were fixed on the small harp resting in his lap. His fingers barged over the strings, producing a jarring series of discordant notes.

"Focus," Michael instructed, his voice firm but not unkind. The archangel stood nearby, his wings folded and his stance rigid. His presence was impassing, almost overwhelming in its intensity. "You must learn to hear the music before you can play it. Feel the air, Lugh," Michael said, his voice carrying the weight of divine authority. "It is more than wind—life, balance, harmony. Command it with respect, not recklessness."

Lugh let out a frustrated huff, his fingers faltering again. "I don't understand. How am I supposed to 'hear the air' when my fingers won't cooperate?"

"Is this some magic training?" Lucas wondered, a flicker of recognition sparking in his mind. The realization settled uneasily—maybe Kyle wasn't his only connection to the supernatural. "How am I ever going to tell him?" Lucas felt a pang of guilt for dwelling on a past that had already faded, especially when his present—and future—was so clearly with Kyle. He shook his head, trying to push aside the past and focus on Michael's stern voice.

Still, that pull—the haunting familiarity of the melody—lingered, refusing to fade. It demanded his attention, stirring something deep within. "Why now?" he wondered, his chest tightening. Was this fragment of his past resurfacing by chance, or was it something more?

Michael sighed, his green eyes softening slightly. "Patience. Mastery takes time and discipline. The harp is not just an instrument; it's a conduit. Its music can shape emotions, calm storms, and even mend broken spirits. But only if you respect it."

Kyle, leaning casually against a nearby tree, finally spoke up. "Or," he said with a mischievous grin, "you could loosen up a little and stop treating it like a holy relic."

Michael shot him a pointed look and huffed. "But it IS a holy relic. This is not the time for your antics, Lucifer."

"Relax, Michael," Kyle replied, sauntering over to Lugh. "The kid's frustrated because you're making it feel like a chore. Music isn't just about discipline; it's about feeling. Passion. Playfulness." He crouched beside Lugh and plucked a few strings, producing a soft, melodic tune. "See? It doesn't have to be perfect. Let it flow naturally."

Lugh looked between the two mentors, his youthful face conflicted. "So... which one of you is right?"

"Both," Michael and Kyle said in unison, their voices overlapping, making Lugh smirk despite himself.

Lucas chuckled, seeing the two brothers bicker. They were so different, but they balanced each other—fire and earth. At least, that is what made sense when looking at them. He wondered if Kyle sees them the same way if he thought of Lucas as a grounding force the way Michael does... but differently. More intimately.

Kyle chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair. "Smart kid. Here, try this." He repositioned Lugh's hands on the harp, his touch light but confident. "Forget about getting it perfect. Just play something that feels right to you."

Lugh hesitated, then tentatively plucked a string. The note resonated, soft and pure, like the first breath of dawn. Encouraged, he continued, his fingers moving with growing confidence. The melody that emerged was simple but beautiful, a reflection of the untamed potential within him.

Lucas couldn't help but realize that Kyle taught him magic in the same gentle and encouraging way, letting him find his path on instinct. Kyle believed in Lucas even when he didn't believe in himself. He showed him how to feel the wind naturally and make it his own, like a discovery, and reminded him how to open up and let someone in. It helped him to reconnect with the person he used to be before shame and unrequited affection morphed him.

Lucas smiled faintly, and his chest grew warm. He thought. "Since I met him, I have been constantly uncovering something inside me, changing, healing, and becoming stronger. Kyle had shown me how to find strength within myself. Now, it was my turn to help him see he didn't have to carry everything alone—not anymore."

Michael watched silently, his expression unreadable. When Lugh finished, the archangel touched the boy's shoulder. "Good," he said quietly. "Now, do it again. But this time, focus on how it feels in your core. The music must come from within."

Lugh nodded, his determination renewed.

"You're not so bad at this, Michael," Kyle said teasingly, though his golden eyes betrayed a flicker of something softer—gratitude, perhaps, or even pride.

Michael glanced at him, his lips twitching. "And you're not entirely useless," he replied, but his tone lacked its usual edge as if some of him acknowledged Kyle's worth.

Kyle laughed, the sound light and carefree. "High praise, coming from you."

The two mentors stood side by side, watching as Lugh immersed himself in the music. Despite their differences, they had an unspoken understanding—a shared purpose transcending their usual bickering.

For Lugh, the elemental spark within him was beginning to awaken. The music was not just sound but power, a connection to something greater. Under the guidance of his two unlikely mentors, he would learn to harness it—not just for himself but for the world he was destined to lead.

As the memory dissolved, Lucas felt the lingering resonance of the harp's melody—haunting and beautiful, like a whisper of things to come. He turned to Kyle, the weight of what he'd witnessed settling in his chest. "Have I ever praised your tutoring skills?"

"Watching you with Lugh reminded me of when you taught me magic," Lucas said softly. He leaned closer, brushing his lips against Kyle's in a quiet thank you. "You didn't just teach me control; you helped me find myself. I hope you let me repay it by staying by your side."

Kyle's grin widened, and Lucas felt its warmth as he whispered, "It seems like I can't get rid of you—and I wouldn't want to."

He mockingly cackled maniacally, and Lucas followed teasingly.

As they stood together, the faint echo of the harp's melody lingered—a reminder that even amidst chaos, there was the promise of harmony, of something worth fighting for.

"It seems you had a good relationship with your brother back then," Lucas ventured, scratching his chin. He tensed as Kyle lowered his head, nodding slowly.

"It was nice..." Kyle paused, his golden eyes flickering with nostalgia. "For a time, it was probably the only period I could talk to him without wanting to punch him."

"So, you and Michael worked together as Lugh's mentors?" Lucas asked, tilting his head.

Kyle nodded, his expression softening. "We each played our roles. Michael taught him discipline, balance, and the value of duty. He molded Lugh into a protector, a beacon of light for his people. I..." Kyle hesitated, his voice dropping. "I taught him how to embrace his instincts. How can he harness the chaos within and wield it without losing himself? Lugh needed both lessons to become who he was destined to be."

Lucas's eyes widened as the weight of Kyle's words sank in. "And that didn't cause... tension between you and Michael?"

Kyle smirked faintly. "Oh, it did. Constantly. Michael saw himself as the 'proper' mentor. Everything had to be orderly, virtuous, and within the boundaries of Heaven's decree. I saw the world differently. Lugh wasn't just a hero in waiting; he was a boy, curious and flawed. He needed to learn to laugh at the chaos as much as he needed to fight it."

Lucas's curiosity deepened. "And Lugh? How did he see both of you?"

Kyle's gaze grew distant as the dreamscape flickered, images of Lugh's life flashing around them—the eager boy transforming into a fierce warrior and then a wise king crowned with laurels. "He respected Michael. He trusted me." Kyle's voice carried a subtle ache. "Michael taught him to stand firm, to protect his people at all costs. I taught him how to bend so he wouldn't break."

"Still, you helped him become a king, right?" Lucas pressed gently, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and the desire to ease the tension in Kyle's expression.

Kyle's golden eyes softened, though his voice barely rose above a whisper. "Well, he did it on his merit. He joined the Tuatha Dé Danann ranks and soon proved himself a natural leader. But during a fierce battle, his king died, and we were so worried about what would come next that we decided to intervene—Michael and I gave him two holy relics to help him defeat the Fomorians."

Lucas listened intently as the dreamscape shifted again. Flashes of a cruel, chaotic battle filled the air, the clashing of swords and the roar of warriors echoing all around them. Lugh stood in the center of the fray, wielding a sword that shimmered with divine energy, his presence commanding and almost otherworldly. The scene shifted once more, and Lucas saw Lugh's coronation—golden laurels adorning his brow as cheers rose from the crowd. Kyle and Michael stood at a distance, their faces shadowed, and then quietly turned to leave.

"But in the end..." Kyle's voice faltered, his golden gaze fixed on the ground as if the weight of the memory was too heavy to bear. He closed his eyes briefly before continuing, his tone tinged with bittersweet regret. "He left us behind. As he should have."

Lucas hesitated, his chest tightening as he absorbed the layered emotions radiating from Kyle. There was pride, yes, but also a profound sadness—an ache that seemed to stretch across centuries. "Do you ever think he—" Lucas began, his words tentative.

"Missed us?" Kyle interrupted, his smirk returning, though it lacked its usual warmth. "If he needed us, we were there for him. But at the end of his mortal life..." Kyle's voice grew quieter, his golden eyes shimmering with unspoken pain. "We had to carry his soul to the Underworld. And in that moment, he wasn't happy with us at all."

"Why?" Lucas asked, leaning forward instinctively, his brow furrowed with concern.

Kyle's fists clenched at his sides, and his voice dropped with guilt. "Because we failed with his son."

Lucas's breath hitched at the raw emotion in Kyle's words. "His son?" he echoed, his tone filled with curiosity and dread. "What happened?"

Kyle's gaze met Lucas's, and the tension in his shoulders shifted. He murmured. "It's a weight I'll always carry, Lucas. Some mistakes... they don't have neat endings."

Lucas squeezed his arm gently, his brown eyes filled with warmth and determination. "You've carried it long enough. Maybe it's time to let someone else share the weight."

Kyle's golden eyes flickered with something undefinable—perhaps gratitude or hope. But before he could respond, the dreamscape shifted again. As the ominous memory surfaced, the golden shores and peaceful melody faded into the green grasslands and gentle meadows. Lucas felt the pull, knowing this was only the beginning of the truths Kyle would reveal.