Chapter 17 #3
A breath of hot air escapes my nose. And here I was, thinking getting answers about the nature of the universe from this angel might not be like pulling teeth.
I’ll have to be more specific, I suppose—which might be difficult, considering I haven’t read 95% of the Bible.
“Okay, um… how about the rebellion? Did Lucifer revolt against God? Is that how you guys got here?”
“Archangels were occasionally sent to Earth before, but we were never intimately involved with humanity. Until, that is, Semyaza led a legion out of Heaven, which we call the Fall.” He responds in a steady voice, making everything seem like such common knowledge.
“His experiment on Earth inevitably failed, and it suffered the full Wrath of God as a consequence. In its aftermath, the City of Elohim was created in a pocket realm to prevent further delinquencies while guarding humanity. With it came a need for governance, so they formed the Council and the Council’s Code of Conduct.
The prophecy of Judgment Day, and thus the Abyss, just happened to arise around the same time. ”
“Heaven.” I taste the word on my tongue. “So it’s real? What’s it like?”
He shakes his head, a somber expression falling over his usually stoic face.
“I only vaguely remember the feeling of it being the most glorious, magnificent creation. Angels in the higher Spheres protect the secrets of the Kingdom of Heaven. They withhold our memories of it when we pass through the Eye of God to take an origin form here.”
“We’re some of the only remaining true archangels, you know,” Dusk echoes in melancholy. “The only ones who were created in Heaven and not born in Elohim.”
I’m surprised to hear them in complete agreement about something.
“Yes, my duty to the Abyss has been divinely assigned. I cannot return until the Almighty calls upon me.” Abaddon’s voice is edged with such somberness that I almost pity him. Maybe that’s why he always acts like he has a stick up his ass.
I never really stopped to think about their ability to return to Heaven or not, or how it’d make them feel.
To be honest, I hadn’t even believed it was a real place.
And to be stuck in the Abyss, of all places?
I’ve barely been here three weeks, and I’m already going stir crazy.
I can’t imagine being stuck here for hundreds, thousands of years, especially after knowing life in Heaven.
“It’s all so bureaucratic now,” Dusk huffs.
“The meaning of being an archangel, a true archangel, has become diluted. We’re each supposed to be the one angel created in Heaven to possess the strongest ability in our specialty.
One whose descendants—which is the vast majority of angels in Elohim—carry out the lesser work of.
Instead, mediocre elemental specialties get superficially promoted to lead their noble houses. ”
I scoot a piece of chicken around my plate with a fork. “What even is a specialty, anyway? Is it just what you’re best at?”
Dusk groans, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling. “No, it’s far more than that. If we had the time, we’d send you to primary school in Elohim for all this. There’s so much you don’t know—”
“A specialty is the power you can pull from the Aether,” Abaddon cuts off the other angel. “Our small skills only manipulate the matter around us.”
Dusk glares at him, but allows him to keep going.
“For example, water. Any angel past infancy can move water that already exists, but only the water specialties can seemingly spawn it. But they are not actually spawning it, for they are not the Almighty; they cannot create something from nothing. Their ability comes from an inter-dimensional place of power called the Aether, gated in ways that we in the Third Sphere aren’t privy to understanding. ”
I’m truly overwhelmed now.
“Dare I ask about the devil?” My stomach is full and happy, but I swipe another yeast roll off the table anyway—a small treat.
“How about another time?” Dusk answers, leaning forward in his seat and resting his arms on the table. “Assuming Abaddon is willing to include celestial education in your training.”
I glance at the King. “So it’s true? You’ll be helping to instruct me from now on?”
He nods, rising to his feet.
“How much do you know about my training regimen?”
Pressing his palms into the table, he leans in to answer, but pauses upon meeting my eyes. His whole body stills, and he stares at me in that way where I feel like he’s looking straight into my soul.
I freeze, too. I am locked in the intensity of his attention. His pale eyes and hair make him look like a ghost, though the carving of his facial features is fierce, lending him the rough masculinity of a warrior. But it’s softened by regality. By… loneliness.
A loneliness that echoes my own, infinitely stronger.
“I know you have not begun to feel any power inside you, which is concerning.” His head tilts to the side, and his gaze skims my face. I watch his throat move as he swallows. “So, that is what we will focus on first.”
“Good.” I lick my dry lips, averting my eyes from him. “I need to keep busy.”
“You will be plenty occupied. I will retrieve you from the training arena tomorrow at noon. Be ready for me.”
He leaves, allowing me to say goodbye to Dusk in private. Even as I do, though, I find myself still thinking about the lonesome king.
The angel with the wings of a devil.