Lucy
As I orgasm, the entire bedroom lights up and I vanish into my mind. I search through my body, sifting and sorting until eventually I find the pieces of the angels tucked in my chest where my crystalline heart used to be.
I sink in and their lives rush past me in fits and starts.
The Celestial City made of glass and light and rainbows.
Fields of flowers and insects. The playhouse Interitus destroyed. Their ceremonies and moths. Their year without power.
I take control. It’s coming easier now, channelling my power. I slow things down, replay memories, choosing when to move between visions.
The bridge. Oh gods, the fall. The push.
The elder.
Their time in the underworld.
Gellara.
Her sweet love.
Architecti going dark in that field, killing an entire town of mortals.
Her plan.
The prison, binding the moths together.
The elder.
I stop and replay the memories with the elder. Angels aren’t meant to be twins, he says.
Architecti is confused. She seeks clarification. He doesn’t want to tell her, but she pleads.
Our magic is powerful. But it is supposed to be contained inside one vessel. Not split between twins.
Why not? Architecti says.
Because it doesn’t always split evenly. Sometimes one angel goes bad.
Everything goes dark and I sit up, gasping. “We’ve been played.”