The Apotheosis of Antoine Burmette
A sky of glistening mist obscured the young man’s vision. He was only able to see about ten feet in any direction. After that, his vision was permeated by a myriad number of jewel-like undulating figures.
They moved, spoke…and in all obvious ways…were shaped and animated by nothing more than the serpentine power of the wind. Antoine saw…where others could not…that they were not simply amorphous dust-devils, borne on the breeze. They were Spirits: Daemons or Angels. One could never be quite sure.
Their substance was composed of connected particles of glittering spectral dust; insignificant motes of disparate granules to the untrained eye. Their shape and movement appeared to be dictated by the capricious nature of the wind’s random gusts. Their purpose, however, was anything but random.
Badu (as he was called by those who knew him) had learned not to disturb them. The drafts and eddies: which molded them, crafted them, made manifest their essence… allowed them to stay hidden. A perfect transparent illusion of innocence.
Antoine Vermette, and some few others, knew better than to discount the underlying animus of their presence. ” Don’t be fooled by the safe, ephemeral demeanor they project, Badu…”, Mark had warned. ” The harmless aura they present, is nothing but a facade…Stay alert!”
Dr. Mark Forster was one of a handfull of people, who had (for good or ill), the ability to see them. Much more than that, Dr. Forster was one of the few people left, that Antoine respected and trusted.
