Chapter 13
Present Aeon
With a heavy sigh, Luc slung his now-empty carrying case around his person and set the candle back in its sconce.
He twisted the dimmer set into the wall until all the candles had been extinguished.
Finally, he bent over to retrieve the oil lamp from where he’d set it on the first step of the wooden staircase.
He could barely see anything in the dim light the lamp provided.
Indeed, he could only see one step at a time, but as he studied it, the step he could see appeared…
off…somehow. Its edges did not quite align, and every structure in Heaven had perfect alignment.
Especially the Library, which had been constructed by the Creator before the angels had begun to build anything themselves.
Setting the lamp back down on the first step, Luc nudged the top of the second step, and to his shock, it moved. He applied more force, and the wood gave way, opening like a lid to reveal another staircase, leading further downward.
But to what? Luc couldn’t see. His lamp cast too little light, and this staircase, like the first, was another descent into darkness.
Unwavering, and beyond curious, Luc squeezed himself into the tight opening and climbed deeper into the Library’s bowels.
He felt his way through the darkness, careful not to miss a single wooden step, until his feet touched hard stone.
Stretching his arm out, he surmised that he had entered another chamber, but the dim light afforded him a view of only an arm’s length.
He cast about, searching for a candle to light, and found a line of candles placed along the walls just as in the previous chamber.
When he lit the nearest one, the secret chamber exploded with an unnervingly bright glow for a room with no windows.
Most of this light came from an overhead chandelier that Luc had not perceived in the dark—an upside-down tree filled with tiny flames that dangled over a stone pedestal holding a single, unlit candle.
Another peculiar feature drew his eye. Aside from the row of candles, which were identical to the candles in the previous chamber, hundreds of hexagonal stone crystals, set in brass slots, had been nailed to the walls.
When he drew closer to them, he saw that each slot bore an engraved nameplate and that the names were arranged in alphabetical order.
Names of the angels.
What was this place?
And why was it even more hidden than the chamber above? Was this one of the things the Council had been keeping from him? That they whispered about among themselves when he was across the room or out of sight?
Luc picked up one clear crystal and inspected it, then glanced at the unlit candle in the center of the room. Obviously, the two were connected. What would happen if he lit the candle? Were these crystals also meant to burn? And if they did, what did that mean?
The part of him that loved experimenting with unknowns stirred with curiosity. Of course, he had to try it. He had to know what was being kept from him.
Luc lit the candle.
But, in case of anything going wrong, he decided not to test his own crystal. Instead, he selected the crystal belonging to Castor—insufferable, undeserving Castor—and hoped the crystal melted, hoped Castor exploded in the middle of the Banquet Hall.
Too late, he remembered that Lila might be affected, but he’d already thrust the crystal over the flame. Immediately, the aether erupted with light and color as the crystal cast a series of brilliant images on all four walls. To his chagrin, Luc found himself surrounded by Castor.
Castor drinking wine and laughing with his fellows. Castor sawing wood in the shop he manned with Lila. Castor fooling around with their materials during lessons.
And then, there was Lila. Always in Castor’s shadow. Always to the left of him or to the right of him or hidden partially behind him. In every frame, but never completely seen.
Luc snatched the crystal away from the light, and her image dissolved as quickly as it had materialized. He hadn’t meant to see her. Not like that.
But then…was this what he thought it was? A vision of Castor’s existence? The one that had appeared when he was first created?
Was this a room full of visions? And did it contain Luc’s vision? Would it reveal his purpose?
Luc’s heart sped up tenfold. Had he just stumbled upon the thing he’d been seeking his entire existence?!
Wasting no time, Luc returned Castor’s crystal to its spot on the wall and raced around the room, searching for his own crystal. Around the middle of one wall, he happened upon it, but not before noticing another crystal slotted a short distance from his.
Lila had a vision?
Intrigued, Luc picked up the curiously marked crystal. He was beyond eager to see his own vision, to finally know his purpose, but he could allow for a quick detour.
It was common knowledge that the second halves of soul-splits didn’t have their own visions. Their destinies were inextricably linked to the destinies of their other halves. So how had Lila managed to have her own?
Then again, should he be surprised? Lila had always been an unknown variable to him. Why not now?
“What are you, Lila?” he mused aloud, dipping the crystal into the flame though he knew he would be torturing himself.
Indeed, when the aether caught fire with her image, Lila was smiling—radiantly, blindingly.
In a carefree way that he’d never seen in all the time he’d been with her.
Her smile was always slightly sad or slightly serious.
But as he watched, her mouth contorted in soundless laughter.
Her eyes crinkled, and her cheeks grew round and full.
Her long, dark hair, which was always braided, whipped freely around her face.
Luc froze, helplessly staring. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Then the hazy, close-up image drew back, and if it were possible, he froze further, amazed. His wisp of a smile widened to a grin.
Lila was standing ankle-deep in water. On a sandy shore. With mountains in the—
She was on Earth!
As he watched, she leapt over incoming waves and twirled, laughing with her wet robes swirling around her.
“Haha! Yes!” Luc cheered, forgetting he was somewhere he was not supposed to be. If Lila visited Earth in the future, then it would definitely be created. With renewed excitement, Luc pocketed Lila’s crystal, certain that no one would miss it, and retrieved his own crystal from the wall.
This was it! The moment he’d been waiting his entire existence for! He braced himself to see everything he’d imagined take solid, physical shape. Canopies of trees. Clusters of stars. Corals and cliffs, canyons and coasts. The full magnificence of a universe only he could have designed!
He braced himself, but he did not brace himself enough.
Indeed, he was not prepared at all for what he saw, which was not a scene of Earth but of Heaven.
Heaven, crumbling—its very ground splitting, fire raining from the sky, thick black smoke covering everything.
A battle, raging overhead. Angels slashing each other with swords and hurling each other into the Void.
Piles of bodies. Piles of rubble. Shattered windows and splintered frames.
And blood, so much blood he didn’t know what it meant.
He wanted to tear his eyes away, but he could only stare in helpless, numb horror.
He watched angels who had worked side by side, aeon after aeon, take up weapons against each other. He watched aeons of architecture destroyed in an instant. In the time it took him to blink.
And there he was at the center of it. The last of the vision.
He watched Michael plunge his sword into his body. Watched himself fall to the platform at the South Edge. Watched a golden light rip itself from his chest. Watched himself stop breathing.
Saw the end of everything he knew.