Chapter 10
One Aeon Pre-Great War
The last thing Luc wanted to be doing after his disaster of a proposal to Lila was moving into his new home outside the dormitories and then touring the Council architect’s workspaces.
But there he stood before the door of his custom-built house—a rectangular stone building painted white with blue trim—watching a group of carpenters heave an oak bed frame through the door’s tight opening.
“Master Lucifer!” one of them noted with grating cheerfulness. “Welcome to your new home!”
Luc dipped his chin in acknowledgement. A nod, but barely. He did a double take at hearing ‘master’ in front of his name. It sounded strange, even though he’d been waiting to be called that since he could remember.
The bed, too, took him aback. Compared to most of the house, it had an extravagant design.
Four wood and marble pilasters. A canopy of burgundy cotton chiffon.
Foliage carvings on the headboard and footboard that he’d sketched out himself.
An impulsive addition to his house’s blueprints that he’d made right before turning them in.
Seeing the bed now, he scoffed under his breath.
Luc slept little. What use could he have for such a frivolous thing?
Now Lila would sit in Castor’s workshop for the rest of her existence, crafting beds just like that. And yet, he’d requested a bed in those particular dimensions because he’d been expecting Lila to join him.
How witless. How naive.
Born beside darkness. Witnessed by darkness. Theirs was not a sweet, innocent, triumphant love. How had he expected it to survive the blazing light in the center of Heaven?
Still, he’d started to picture Lila living with him in this house.
She’d fall asleep at one of the worktables with her head on her sketches, her fingers stained with ink.
Sometimes, they’d take their meals while working, and she’d fling grapes at him if he attempted an experiment she deemed preposterous.
They’d lie awake in bed, whispering their dreams to each other. She’d call him a fool, and he’d let her. He’d let her say anything to him, anything at all, if he could keep hearing her voice. Because she was right—he was a fool on this one count. This one count only.
There would be no more meetings at the obelisk, no more ideas he scribbled down as soon as he woke, that he couldn’t wait to share with her the next time he saw her.
Lila had gone. She was Castor’s now, and as far as everyone else was concerned, she’d always been Castor’s.
She’d gone, and it was as though they’d never been. No one could know, not even Hadri.
He stepped into the bedroom. The oak frame bed screeched across the marble floor as the carpenter angels angled it into the right position along the wall.
He thought of Lila, stretched out on Castor’s bed. Her robes falling off her perfect body, piece by piece.
He’d never seen all of her. Or even most of her, considering the long sleeves and long skirts and high collars of their student robes. Sometimes he’d touched her over her robes, but mostly, they’d just kissed. Lila had never wanted to take things further, and he’d assumed they would have time.
And now Castor would…
But perhaps that was further proof that she’d never been serious about him, that she’d always planned to return to Castor.
Luc clenched his fist. Suddenly, he couldn’t bear the sight of the bed.
“Take it back,” Luc demanded.
“Sorry, sir?” one of the carpenters asked. The carpenter who’d greeted him before. “Do you have a question?” He popped his head up from the slats being laid into place. A curly-haired angel with a pointed nose. Costas, Luc recalled.
“You can take the bed back. I do not require it.” Luc tried to appear cold, rather than pained. He withdrew into the comfort of his superiority. Settled back in his bones like he’d never been wrenched from them by a single cutting glance from a lowly carpentry student.
Costas furrowed his brow. None of the other graduates would have made such a bold request.
“Take it back where, sir? It was made to your specifications. But if the design is not quite right, let me know, and we can adjust—”
“Let me be clear.” Luc strode across the room, his back to the carpenter, signaling that he did not intend to waste time arguing. “I do not want it. I don’t care where it goes, but it can’t go in this house.”
“But it is already here.” Costas chuckled. “A fine piece of craftsmanship—”
“I said take it back!” Luc snapped, rounding on him.
The older angel looked like he might argue—if Luc had still been a student, he would have scolded him—but in the end, he bowed his head and acquiesced.
“As you wish, Master Lucifer.” He waved at his fellows, and they dragged the bed out again. In that single collective movement, Luc felt, for the first time, the weight of his newly acquired power. A tiny thrill rushed through him, dulled by Lila’s absence but still pleasant.
Luc stood, his lips pursed in a thin line, in the center of the vast, empty room until only he and Costas remained.
Now that they were alone, Luc remembered something about him—despite his skill, he’d been passed over more than once for positions as an instructor and a guild council member.
This was the kind of information Luc gleaned from spending too much time in the Library, listening to the older angels whisper among themselves while he buried his nose in ancient scrolls.
He’d never cared much for gossip, but he couldn’t deny the advantage of it now.
“Wait,” he said, following Costas to the front door as the carpenter ventured out with the odds and ends of the bed frame. “There’s a newly graduated couple. Eva and Adrianna. Do you know them?”
Costas’s eyes lit up.
“Why, yes. Eva, I know very well.”
Luc nodded.
“Take the bed to them. And don’t mention where it came from. I’ll be sure to recommend you for that council position in the woodworking guild.”
Costas’s face brightened even more.
“Yes, of course, Master Lucifer. Thank you, sir. Thank you.” He bowed, and authority surged through Luc’s being, filling the spaces Lila had left behind. A hollow comfort, but it would do. He did not dislike the taste of it.
“As I said”—Luc smiled tightly—“don’t mention it.”
In the brightness of the Great Hall’s atrium, Luc waited for Hadri to join him for his tour.
The culinarians were cleaning up after the graduation festivities, the cart between them laden with half-empty gold goblets and silver plates.
During the celebration, an industrious someone had rigged the teal fountain to dispense wine instead of water, and a few masons and blacksmiths were crowded around it, talking over each other as they worked to set the fountain to rights.
Luc took a heavy breath. He wanted to collapse on one of the cushioned marble benches and stare up at the far-off painted ceiling until the servers carted him away too.
He hadn’t slept—he slept little, but this time, not at all—and he hadn’t eaten since before the ceremony.
Lila’s admonishments kept ringing in his brain like a maddening bell, asking questions he couldn’t answer.
And, by the aether, he was supposed to have answers!
He was in no mood to act like he did.
Luc had always embraced his favored status like it was a cloak he could hide behind.
As if he could become what he was meant to become by pretending to be that thing long enough.
He’d thought if Lila believed in him—if she believed that he could do anything—then he really could do anything.
He knew Lila wouldn’t tell him he was special or his ideas were good because everyone else thought so or because he’d been chosen for an unknowable task of grandiose proportion.
It was why he’d picked her to help him with Earth’s design.
But then he’d fallen in love with her, and look at the mess that had created.
He’d thought Earth was the answer to the conundrum that was his purpose, but Lila had blown that notion apart.
Not because she didn’t love Earth as much as he did, but because she’d designed it as much as he had.
He had ideas, sure, but any idea he’d ever shared with Lila, she’d found its flaws and improved upon it.
The instructors called her a lesser angel, but she was more than him. So much more, it shook him. Which begged the question—why was he considered special when she was not?
An oval mirror set in an ornate frame of wrought gold hung next to one set of brass double doors leading into the Banquet Hall.
The doors were closed at present, and Luc stepped up to the mirror.
His unkempt blond hair hung limply around his wan face.
In his tiredness, he slouched, as he never did.
A wisp of himself, his frame faded into the sparkling aether.
Was this really him? Did others see what Lila saw: a head full of impossible dreams and a position he hadn’t earned?
What if he wasn’t the brightest angel because he’d been a smart student, because he was a brilliant architect?
He was beautiful? So what? All the angels were beautiful.
What if there was more to it, more that the Council wasn’t saying? What if Lila was correct that he shouldn’t trust them? Correct, like she normally was.
What if this was his peak? What if making it to the Council was the most impressive thing he’d ever accomplish? More than ever, he felt the pressure to produce something astonishing. More than ever, he doubted that he could do it alone to any degree of satisfaction.
The questions hung over him, unwelcome portents.
For the first time in his existence, Luc felt…afraid.
“Ah! There you are!”
Luc whirled to the right.
Hadri was striding toward him through the open entrance of the Great Hall, the levity in his face jarring Luc from his troublesome thoughts.
Luc straightened himself, though not as much as he would have for anyone else.
Fortunately, as the outgoing Council architect, Hadri was giving the tour alone, and he needed no impressing.
Unfortunately, Luc could tell he was in one of his jolliest moods. Indeed, as the bearded angel approached, he asked how the festivities had gone, his eyes gleaming at the prospect of all the entertaining details.
“Ah! Revelry! When I was a young angel…” Hadri rubbed his hands together. “Well, never mind. How was it?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Luc answered, keeping his face carefully neutral. “I left early. Right after the banquet.”
“Oh?” Hadri frowned. “That’s too bad. It only happens once, you know.”
“Nonsense.” Luc allowed himself a wince. “I’m sure eternity will be filled with exhausting social events.”
“That I can agree with. I’m not much for schmoozing myself.”
Luc eyed him skeptically.
“You might not be much for it, but you’re quite good at it.”
“Aeons of practice.” Hadri smiled. “Shall we get on with the tour?” He gestured toward the back of the building.
“Of course. Lead the way.”
At this directive, Hadri headed for the hallway that connected the main building of the Great Hall to the Artisanal Chamber, and Luc followed him, lagging a few paces behind.
Once there, they didn’t linger long in the massive chamber.
Hadri pointed out Luc’s assigned seat at a round marble table that hadn’t been there during his graduation ceremony; he reviewed the general order of proceedings in each meeting; he gave Luc an overview of each Council member’s quirks and dislikes.
When he said nothing of Michael, Luc asked after the dour angel.
“Michael, uh….” Hadri scratched his beard and paced on the other side of the round table. “Well, he’s made mostly of dislikes. Consider yourself very fortunate if he favors any of your ideas.”
“But he’s the Council head.” Luc leaned against the table. “How am I supposed to get anything done that way?”
“He may be the head, but everything is decided by a majority vote. You must persuade others to your side. You are no longer merely a scientist or an artist.” Hadri lowered his voice, at the same time increasing its intensity.
“You are a representative for all the angels who would benefit from your ideas. You must fight for them.” Hadri’s brow creased, the urgency in his eyes saying more than his mouth.
Luc hadn’t known that Hadri could look so serious.
He wondered what the older angel had fought for.
“I see.” Luc considered, then mentioned, dumbly, “Like a lessons presentation?”
“If you want to think of it that way, yes. A very high stakes lessons presentation.” Hadri chuckled, regaining his normal good humor. “But enough about that.” He waved his comments away. “We haven’t yet gotten to the most important part of the tour. Let us go to the Library.”