A Chill Wind From Heaven
Copyright© 2026 by Sonarflash2026
Chapter 2: Alexis
“Goddess?”
Through the pain, seeming a distant echo, Alexis Anne heard the words. She was beyond caring. The impression of an odd, elfin face with big, leaf-green eyes illuminated by yellow light was fading.
“Not going to let me die?” The blatant assertion seemed ludicrous. “I’m already dead!”
Swamped by agony, awareness fragmented, pain once again dragging her down and down, Alexis felt something inside tear. Her being shifted. Pain vanished. She was afloat, somehow separated from her body, sliding out through the top of her head.
Pain evaporated. Abruptly disconnected, the former combat pilot felt herself swallowed by a void. Reality shifted, then she was a disembodied presence without form or substance. Any pain was gone. Dying, or dead already, it no longer mattered. Somehow, thought remained. Somehow, the terrible hurts and confusion were gone.
Disconnected from any physical reality, Alexis glimpsed memories. She was taken back to childhood, to her medicine quest. A sweat lodge ceremony with her Cree mother and grandmother resolved. A
hummingbird was there, flitting at fringes of awareness. The experience and visions was confusing. She floated. Blackness roiled about her, but without texture or patterns. The agony of ruptured organs, punctured lungs and fractured bones were no more.
She knew she was dead, but there were no relatives to greet her. She felt disappointment. No ancestors materialized. There wasn’t even a tunnel of light. She didn’t see angels, nor were there snarling, nightmare demons ready to drag her down into a fiery pit for all the crimes she had been party too in the Asian war. For an endless moment, there were images from memory against a backdrop of endless blackness.
Gradually, warmth enveloped her. A soft glow expanded, swelling into an enfolding, gold and creamy whiteness. Impressions rippled with rainbow hues. Adrift and floating, Alexis saw and puzzled. After what seemed an eternity, she began to hear a melodic burring. A flitting, red and gold hummingbird was there, materializing, magical, bright black eyes looking directly at her.
:Welcome, daughter.: The thought was a tinkling chirp and sweet, whispering breath that passed through awareness. Though a hummingbird was her totem, Alexis thought it had to be some kind of death dream. The vision was in no way like that experienced the year her courses started ... the year grandmother guided her on a medicine quest. This was nowhere like the hummingbird vision from her time in the sweat lodge. Alexis couldn’t feel her body, yet she felt repeated touches of a long, darting beak. A quiet melody accompanied the breeze of burring, blurred wings.
She wasn’t breathing, yet the quiet, familiar thrum of wings and light touches continued, soothing, brushing away concerns and questions.
:There, daughter,: a faint, chirping voice stated, melodic words a gentle breath. Alexis met the hummingbird’s eyes and felt a wave of cleansing energy. Absolution and acceptance swept through her. A dealer in death ... the woman who had delivered weapons of mass destruction in a near global conflict, she began to sense a wonderous, feminine presence beyond the hovering bird. Uncomplicated and wise, that presence was fathomless, a being of love and compassion beyond mortal understanding.
:Warrior and Daughter, we have spared you for our purpose. Now, wake and live!:
Her little totem flitted back, melting away, merging with waves of fluorescent colour. Gracious and sweet, energy flowed into and through her like warm oil. Touched by that epiphany of unconditional love, Alexis soared, lifted through more surreal colours into a place of sights and sounds that defied description.
Without reasoning, Alexis felt she understood creation perfectly. All her questions were clarified. She knew her purpose, glimpsed her destiny, understanding the vast layers and subtle element of multiple creations.
:Live, love and rejoice, daughter.: The tinkle of ethereal words passed through her like a breath of wind. The nimbus of light dissolved, then comprehension evaporated, understanding becoming clouded. Once again, she was alone and confused, though the admonitions echoed and settled in her thoughts.
As though from a great distance, Alexis became aware of physical sensations. Chill air. Soft, trembling lips were covering her mouth. Fingers gripped her jaw. fingers were pinching her nostrils. Warm breath kept filling lungs. Her chest ached; but, without agony. She knew there had been excruciating pain from fractured ribs and punctured lungs. Now, there were only dull, indefinable complaints.
A warm breath came again, inflating her chest. Her heart beat. With a rush of joy, her entire being responded. Her tongue darted out, slipping into a living mouth, tasting life and sweetness with a hint of peppermint.
Lips jerked away, a startled yelp left in their wake. Fingers released her jaw and nostrils.
Alexis blinked and sucked a breath on her own. Frigid air bit at her. Complaints came from numerous bruises. She gagged. Restricted by the helmet, she turned her face aside, coughing harshly, spitting out clots of blood and phlegm. Nausea swamped her and she retched. Bile and frothy blood clots spilled over her chin, running down into the helmet collar. Surprisingly, bones and organs damaged by inhuman stresses barely protested. She ached, but she could breathe, lungs burning as cold air hit.
Captain Alexis Willcox, warrior and test pilot blinked and tried to focus. Little crackling sounds shivered up her spine, through neck and skull. Pretty sparkles of light flickered before her eyes, shifting to a foggy whiteness. Then, a face resolved.
The girl’s features were scowling down at her. An elusive, blurry memory of the face surfaced. Thoughts still scrambled, Alexis took in auburn curls escaping from a bulky fur hat. A small, pointed chin was tucked into the collar of a sheepskin coat. Slanted, leaf-green eyes seemed huge and appeared quite indignant.
“You stuck yer’ tongue in my mouth!”
“Yeh, I did,” Alexis muttered, trying to focus on the youthful face. “Fuck me. I’ve got to be dead. Are you an angel? You’re sure cute.”
“You got one foul mouth!” the girl shot back, big green eyes narrowing angrily. “I ain’t no angel. I’m Llywelynn Argol, and you ain’t dead.
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