1. Nahomie
Nahomie
I stared down at the dead bloodhound, unimpressed.
“Now, how in the stars did you get here?”
I narrowed my eyes at the demonized dog, not at all pleased at finding yet another deceased bloodhound in my garden. I absentmindedly brushed my fingers through the scattered dirt around the beast’s carcass, uneasy at its presence.
Blackened thorns, laced with my blackfire, had choked the bloodhound lifeless, piercing into its flesh from all angles.
The perimeter of my manor was heavily protected by Anshantmants—protection oaths—derived from the Saccrent of the Infinite.
The holy scriptures. Anything undead, anything remotely demonic, couldn’t cross and live.
And to strengthen the protective barrier around my home, I also added blackfire that poisoned intruders on sight.
“You are not the first, and I’m concerned you’re also not the last.” I sighed deeply at the thought of what the presence of bloodhounds at my home meant. “I don’t like this. At all.”
For some odd reason, my Anshantmants weren’t keeping the bloodhounds away. I frowned. Though they were dying, they were still getting through the barrier. A problem I had to fix promptly before more returned.
I took an uncomfortable breath, casting a quick glance around my stone barriers.
Crackling lavender fire illuminated endless vines of sharp-pricked thorns interwoven in the stones, curling through each block that surrounded the length of the colossal manor.
I scanned the ground, searching the garden for tracks. Prints. Anything. But I found none.
As if the bloodhound dropped from the sky and just landed on my secluded manor at the end of Edenael Island.
Which was a ridiculous thought. Papi always said it was only fools who believed in coincidences and chance.
Father didn’t raise me to be a fool. I frowned.
Bloodhounds couldn’t fly, which meant they were being brought here somehow without warning or trace.
I groaned, pushing to my feet. The stench of the singed carcass curled my nose hairs.
I’d have to dispose of the body and cleanse my grounds.
Again. Stars. If there ever was a moment I wanted to move back home with Manmi and Papi, it was now.
Papi would’ve handled this cleanup without question while Mother would’ve kept me distracted on lighter matters.
“It’s too everburning hot for this.”
I kissed my teeth, beyond annoyed. The seven suns of the Sorellien Islands beat down on my shoulders.
The heat cloaked me in merciless humidity.
Wiping a bead of sweat from my brow, I tugged on my ebony gown, the laced trim clinging to my arms and legs.
I took two steps back in the air from the dead bloodhound.
I raised my palms. Then, diving deep into myself, I tumbled into my ethèr—my innate, angelic powers.
The element of fire burned through my veins.
I relished the delicious crackle of vibrant, thrashing blackfire that swelled within me in immeasurable waves.
I looked at the wild torrent of sparkling lavender fire meshed in an obsidian trail, swirling in my palms. Blackfire had set me apart from the rest of Angelkind across Edenael Island.
My powers had made me more than an Elemental like my fellow Seraphim from Okapi Village.
Blackfire had made me an ostracized pariah, forced to live in isolation like a common Lougawès.
A female sorceress using dark majik. Blackfire had made my former villagers call me a witch.
I looked at my powers. Wild. Destructive. Impotent.
And I smiled.
Eyes back on the bloodhound, I breathed in deeply and tugged on raw ethèr.
Fire surged in my bloodstream before pooling into my open palms. I flexed my hands at the carcass and released the ethèr.
Lavender flames leaked out of my hands as pitch-black smoke curled around the carcass.
The flames caught onto the obsidian fur of the lifeless bloodhound, burning the creature gradually until body, blood, and bone turned to ash.
I should’ve brought the creature inside, into the manor’s Sanctum, and gone through Purification.
The cleansing ritual all angels had to perform when dealing with the dead.
But stars. I had no energy for all of that.
Already I’d spent most of the dawn cleaning the upper floors of the manor.
I was ready for a sweet treat and a twinight to myself.
“You’re the seventh bloodhound to violate the peace of my home in the last three dawns.” I grimaced. “Your species continues to make it past my Anshantmants. How?”
Silence met me like an open grave.
Going through Purification for the last six dawns had been laborious enough. This time, I would burn this carcass to ashes and discard the remains in the Ouanaviel Sea. Was I cheating a sacred process? Undeniably. Did I care? No. Besides, who was going to check me?
I floated alone in the garden, relishing the peaceful sounds of hummingcryer birds singing, while curious stags popped their heads out of the forest—which encircled the back half of the manor—that bled out into the Ouanaviel Sea.
The rushing sound of crashing waves was a balm to my seven hearts.
One of my favorite melodies to hear was the song of the ocean.
I remained floating in the air, working hard to burn through the entire bloodhound. Nearly an hour passed before the horse-sized dog completely burned to ashes. Exhausting work that left me starving. I couldn’t wait to eat my...
Stars.
I’d forgotten to pull my marinated meat out of the kitchen frostrooms. I grumbled, grunting in the open air.
It was going to take so much longer to cook my meal for nightfast. And I was already hungry now.
I ground my teeth, irritated at my situation.
Being a fully matured angel was a grievance I was sick of dealing with.
I was also sick of these burning bloodhounds.
Their presence meant one thing.
A hunt had begun.
If the creatures kept finding their way here... I looked to the sky, blinking at the sunshine. I bit my lip as my mind raced. The constant trespassing of the bloodhounds could only mean the Farasee Order must have set their sights on their next victim.
Unfortunately, this meant that the next victim was me. But why in the stars did they even know me? Notice me? I thought of the cruel priesthood that ruled the Empyrean, consequently taking complete control of the twelve Sorellien Islands since the Fifth Age.
Did we have an Empràr? Yes. Did I believe the emperor was a mere puppet for the Farasee Order? Also yes.
The Farasees lusted for power. Control. They shed the blood of Angelkind, Shifterkind, Faekind, Giantkind, Godkind, Merkind, and even Edenkind.
Any of the seven dominant Elledellien races who rebelled against their religious dominance suffered while the Farasee Order did whatever they pleased to maintain their rule.
Our home, Edenael Island, was one of the six remaining Empyrean Loyalists, as we were called.
The other six islands had either broken away or rebelled entirely, defying the Empràr and the Order.
Nalyens had remained faithful to the Empràr.
Faithful to the Profèt. Reverent of the High Farasee.
We were subservient little slaves that obeyed every decree and did as we were told.
Edenael’s uninhibited obeisance always benefited us, allowing us to amass riches in return for cooperating with the empire and remaining, willingly, under empyrean rule. We never had issues. Attracted no attention.
Until, of course, my blackfire ended the life of its first victim on my thirteenth riseday.
Our most beloved village elder, no less.
Then the bloodhounds started hunting across all of Edenael Island for me. After half a millennium of trying to keep me hidden, Manmi and Papi had built this manor. When I reached my First Millennia riseday, they threw me a lavish party here... then said I could never leave.
It was for my safety. My own good. The Farasee Order, the demons in pristine ivory priestly robes, would never find me here.
To their credit, they were right. For a while.
Manmi and Papi always came to visit me regularly, bringing me gifts and catching me up on village gossip.
Being the Chief Elder and Elderèss of Okapi, they always knew more about the angels of our village, and the island at large, than anyone else.
Papi especially loved filling me in on all the juicy details, more so than Manmi.
After leaving Okapi Village, I never saw a bloodhound again.
My manor was my haven from the tracking dogs of the Farasee Order.
Until three dawns ago.
I looked up from my perch. I’d been standing in this exact spot when the nightmarish memories from all those centuries ago came flooding back.
A boneraven had been perched on one hedge of the garden.
In its beak, it held an ivory peony with a lavender stem that had an obsidian ichor oozing out of its center.
The boneraven had looked me in the eye. Cawed, dropping the peony, and flew away.
When I neared the fallen flower, I found the dead carcass of the first bloodhound.
I shook away the morbid memories, glancing up into the sky.
Something like consternation tried twisting in my gut, but I shoved it off.
My home was not a place where I would become paranoid.
I wouldn’t give anyone, not even the Fallen Hèlslords from the Six Hèls, the satisfaction.
I lowered my palms, retracting my blackfire back into myself, bending to the ground to unwind the thorns from the ashes.
Then I felt it.
The hair on my arms stood on end. My ears twitched. All seven of my hearts began pounding. Racing. Adrenaline spilled into my blood, a growing hysteria threatening to unravel my mind.
I couldn’t shake the creeping, ominous feeling of being watched.
Of being tracked.
Still bent over on the ground, I froze.
I listened to the sounds of the garden.
There was none.
The honeyrabbits had grown silent. All the hummingcryers had stopped singing. The ivory stags had disappeared, their iridescent antlers vanishing deep into the forest. The grounds of the manor had fallen into a hush. It was still. Foreboding. Quiet.
Too quiet.
I flicked my gaze up from where I was bent. My shoulders tensed. My wings snapped tight against my spine as my back went rigid.
Then I saw it. Perched on the same accursed branch like three dawns ago.
Unblinking, beady black eyes pinned themselves on me.
A boneraven.
And in its beak, an ivory peony ending in a lavender stem with black ichor oozing from the center.
Inglorious stars.
I whirled around.
And I screamed.
“Wings high, Nahomie.” A cruel, malevolent chuckle. “We’ve been looking for you.”