fifty-nine
Is this what death feels like?
My body aches. My head feels as if something heavy sits upon it. Warmth surrounds me like a late spring day. It’s not hot or cold. It’s the kind of warmth that makes you feel happy. The kind that gives you energy.
It’s dark around me, but there are no shadows in sight.
Is this Avalon?
Amara.
A familiar name rings through my mind, but something about it feels wrong. As if it were mine in a past life, but not this one.
Open your eyes, Amara. Please.
Light stings my eyes when they snap open and I close them again to shelter from it, hissing through my teeth. I take my time, letting only a small sliver of brightness in at a time. When my eyes open fully, everything is a blur.
It takes a moment for shapes to come into focus. The first thing that does is the figure hunched over next to me.
The archangel’s face is buried in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. He sits on a golden armchair with swirls of white woven into it. The detail is so intricate and beautiful that it hardly looks real.
The archangel’s torso is on display, showing off the bandage wrapped tightly around his waist. He’s still covered in dirt and looks as if he hasn’t slept in days. His hair falls in dark, messy waves.
“Archangel.”
My throat feels like blades when I try to speak.
He drops his hands, looking up at me for the first time since I opened my eyes. His eyes are red, dark circles surrounding them.
“Amara.”
He says my name in a breath of relief, and I see a weight lift off him in that moment. He’s glad that I’m alive, and I him.
For a long while, we stare at each other. A few times he looks as if he wants to move closer to me – to brush away the golden hair that falls over my face, but I do it myself before he has the chance. Each movement feels like it could be my last. My body is weak. My mind is a cloud of nothingness, as if it’s sheltering me from things I don’t want to remember. As if it’s trying to erase the past week from existence.
“Are you alright?”
His voice is gruff, weak and sleep-deprived.
It seems to be what I need to hear for the fog in my mind to clear. The memories bombard me all at once. My eyes fill with tears as my heart shatters all over again.
I remember leaving the comfort of curfew to find the man I loved. I remember the deal I made with the archangel to survive. I remember the caged humans at the estate, and the ones I murdered.
I remember the archangel strung up like prey and covered in shadows. I remember him flying me away from my friends as they were killed by beasts from the Darklands.
I remember the wings that grew from Jeremy’s back as his hands dripped with blood. I remember the clarity I felt in that moment.
I remember the sound of my friend taking his own life to deny Cain the satisfaction. I remember seeing the life leave his eyes as I begged him to stay with me. I remember driving my hand into the fallen angel’s chest before he turned to ash.
I remember the archangel’s face when he found me there, ready to die.
I look at him now and let the feelings sink back in, focusing on one fact alone. The only one that will stop me from crumbling. “You’re alive.”
The archangel hesitates, his brows knitting together. “You’re… relieved?”
I take a deep breath, my eyes darting to the golden blood that seeps through the bandage around his waist. My heart races while I contemplate his question. I try to stop the bubble of anger that rises within me from exploding around us.
It takes me several minutes to think of my response. To be sure of it.
“Make no mistake, archangel – the relief is purely because I know that I am going to need you. You being alive means that I do not have to face this new reality alone.”
Anger laces every word, burning through my veins like a fiery passion. “I forgive you for lying to me about who I am. You were right; I wouldn’t have believed you.”
I pause, watching caution flicker over his features. “But I will never forgive you for sending Jeremiah to manipulate my mind. For the two years that you left me with the man who held me prisoner. Our alliance can't end, not yet.”
I lean forward, letting him see the sincerity in my eyes.
“But the moment this is over, the second Lilith is dead… I will kill you for what you’ve done.”
The archangel takes a sharp breath, flinching as if my words were a physical blow. “I don’t doubt it, Amara.”
His head hangs low and heavy, his eyes avoiding mine.
I look around the room now, noticing for the first time that there is more here than just the two of us. I’m lying on a bed so soft I hardly noticed it was beneath me. The sheets are a white silky fabric that feels like water on my skin. A high golden arch sits on the wall above me, with tiny swirls carved into it. White fabric drapes from the arch down to the bed in a delicate waterfall.
I look to my left, beyond the archangel, who watches me closely. Behind him there is no wall, just archways that lead into open air. Beyond them lie golden mountains kissed by light. There is no sun, yet it is bright. There is no sky, the air above fading into a mix of white, gold, and blue.
At the bottom of the mountains there are small buildings, though the closer I look, the more I realise that they aren’t small, just far away. In the centre of it all rushes a river of liquid gold, sparkling as it moves. The streets radiate a faint glow. The light moves in waves as my eyes do the same.
My jaw goes slack as I take in the beauty of it all. The lands seem endless, each corner that I can see as beautiful as the last.
“Where are we?”
I whisper in disbelief, though I feel I already know the answer.
The archangel’s lips twitch ever so slightly, as if he’s proud to say the words. “Welcome to Aetheria.”