Chapter 15
Ishot out of my seat, ready to fly back out. Zara waved her hand, grabbing me with invisible strands before yanking me back down to the cloudchair.
“Ignore it.” Zara waved her hand dismissively. “No one’s hurt. One of your Choir mates is just getting accustomed to their chambers. They’ll be fine.”
I narrowed my eyes at the Raephim. She was too calm about the screaming for me. “But how do you know? They sound like they could be hurt.”
Zara flicked up her brown eyes at me, her left brow rising to her hairline.
“I have been the Raephim to Incense Order for a full Age, youngling.” She smiled sweetly as if dealing with a newborn. “Over one thousand cycles of first reactions to the wingtower. I know.”
I bit my lip, keeping my mouth shut. I knew when I’d been humbled.
“Now, lay back, close your eyes, and allow me to work.”
Obeying her orders, I did exactly as she asked. A fruity scent slipped into my nostrils. Within moments, I’d tumbled into a deep sleep.
It wasn’t until I felt a sharp yank on my wings that I jerked awake. Blinking grogginess out of my eyes, I shot into the air, spinning around myself. All my pain was gone. I grinned wide. Zara was floating by her door, holding it open. A dismissal.
“Safah, hurry up! You’re not the only one who needs mending.”
I chuckled at Daelun’s impatience.
“Thank you, Raephim Zara.”
“Please,” she said, her shimmering skin glittering in the bright light of her chambers. She flapped her four sets of earthen brown wings and smiled in a way that made me feel deeply cared for. “Zara will do. And any time you need a bit of patching, now you know where to find me.”
“Yes, Rae…Zara.”
I bowed quickly then rushed out of the chamber as Daelun flew in, already topless, exposing old wounds not entirely healed even from Sifting.
Floating to the floor, I relished walking across the marble, barefoot.
I looked around, thinking about my home, and how this wingtower would take its place for the foreseeable future.
I lived on my own in a villa I purchased many cycles ago, but prior to Ascension, I’d returned to my childhood home so I could be with family before Ascending.
My chest tightened. I already missed Papi and my little sister Evanae.
Gabriel, the youngest of us all, had gone to spend the sumyrin season with friends at their family beach villa.
His summers were typically spent away from home.
I hadn’t gotten to see him before Ascension.
Not that he cared. He probably assumed he’d have another chance to see me.
I scoffed. I wished to see all of them. My sisters. Brothers. Papi. This temple was already weighing on my soul. Finding my chamber doors—labeled ANATHELLE—I walked in. And grinned from ear to ear.
The chamber was lavish like the rest of the Temple.
The expansive room had marble, ivory floors.
Gilded banisters opened to the cloudy billows of the outdoors beyond the balcony.
A short staircase led up a platform where my bedcloud perched.
There was an intimate biblarien to the left, with endless scrolls to read.
There was a dining corner with an accompanying cafe and cocoa bar, and gilded doors which led to a bathing chamber.
From the feathered drapes, to the crystal chandeliers hanging in multiple spaces, down to the plush rugs and golden tabletops, I couldn’t tell if I was still at Temple Efysis, or if I’d transported through a star gate to the palace of the Empràr.
I bounced on my feet, absorbing it all. I padded over to the oversized armoire and threw it open. There were flight robes, temple gowns, twigowns to sleep, and even swimming robes. Every single item inside was bright, shimmering gold. When in the stars would we have time to go swimming?
I raised a brow, pulling out a temple gown. I fished in the drawer for intimates which had all been provided in my exact size and closed the drawer with my foot. Headed for the washroom, I pulled the door open with a wing. The washroom was as opulent as the bedchamber itself.
Really, I could get used to this.
It felt like being home.
Without looking around I waved my hand, drawing all the curtains closed with a flick of the wrist. Without preamble, I stripped bare.
Looking at the ostentatious basin of copper gold, I flicked my wrist again, turning the faucet, watching as steamy hot water gushed into the basin.
Using the water scents close to the basin, I poured them in, relishing in the light, but sweet aroma.
I stepped into the basin, sank in, and nearly started crying. Stars. My body needed this. I sank into the hot water, still rising, until I was up to my neck. I closed my eyes, just for a moment, breathing in.
I was officially an Ascendant. Soon, whenever the first trial finally happened, I would become a Disciple.
I thought over the events of the dawn. Tharic Zamarien and his bloodthirst. Presbitari Davithius. Presbitari Kaelthos. Farasee Esau. The joy of hugging Granmanmi again. Getting assigned to Incense Order. The dragons. The leering Farasees.
Him.
Quazar Valoryen.
I groaned. I couldn’t believe I’d lost my temper like that and attacked him. I was not some barbarian like he was. I’d have to watch myself around him. He looked like the type to provoke you on purpose just to have a reason to draw blood.
I snorted, eyes still closed. I wondered if the female who looked like him was his family. Maybe his sister? A younger kouzi? She was physically strong, but looked so young. Why was she enrolled in a war college?
Flicking my wrist, a soft melody slipped into the chamber, soothing my thoughts. I needed to calm my mind. I was thinking too much. Too fast. I needed to mentally rest.
I sunk into the water, soaking my hair completely. I went through the meticulous love ritual of washing my hair. With it being so long, I had to split it into six sections, pinning them each so I could thoroughly wash and condition each section.
I lost track of time as I hummed to the soft melodies while lathering shampoo and conditioner into each strand of hair from my scalp to the very ends of my hair shaft.
I gently detangled the strands with my fingers, careful not to let my lengthy nails snag on the ends.
I let the conditioner sit in my hair while I scrubbed myself nearly raw, trying to remove the chaos of the dawn from my body.
If only it were that easy to scrub my mind, too.
I wouldn’t forget the females Tharic tossed off the bridge.
The males he killed before they could make it into Scroll Order.
I wouldn’t soon forget Kaelthos having the audacity to call me a bloodthorn in front of the entire Order.
Farasee Esau enjoying my being bonded to the Fallen Prince.
The Farasees who leered at me like they planned to drag me into their beds.
Nor the burning hatred in Quazar Valoryen’s emerald eyes.
Enemies. I had many enemies on every side. I had to be careful in this temple. Or I would die quicker than I could dream about becoming a Farasee.
I rinsed my body, my hair, and toweled off, taking my time lathering on lotion and body oil to every inch of skin before dressing in my temple gown.
The golden fabric covered the length of my neck, hugged every curve deliciously, while tumbling down the length of my body.
I flew to the wall-length mirror in the washroom, taking a good look.
I had to give credit to whoever stocked our chambers.
I had an endless supply of hair oils available.
I could almost weep. Popping the gilded lid off one, I slathered my hands with oil and began applying it.
By the time I was done oiling and twisting my hair so the coils would hang prettily, my arms were burning.
I stalked back into my chamber and found a floating scrollport waiting for me.
I ogled the cylindrical object, curious at the message inside.
The insignia of Incense Order was branded on it.
My stomach growled as I passed a platter of food laid out beautifully for me to dig in.
I reached out to take a piece of cheese.
Then paused.
That wasn’t there when I entered my washroom.
I blinked at the platter as my stomach growled louder. I looked to the scrollport, at the food, then back at the scrollport. I opted to open the scrollport first.
The vibrant image of a Babephim—angels of the messenger rank—surfaced.
She was beautiful and cheery. I was immediately suspicious of the message she was tasked to deliver.
The Babephim floated over the scrollport as if she was actually in my chamber.
She looked so real I wanted to poke her shoulder and confirm it for myself.
She opened her mouth and began reciting her message.
“Wings high, Ascendant. Angels do not live by Manna alone, but by all the written words that come from the Infinite himself. If you choose to live by your stomach, we’re given no other choice. We will choose to let you die by it. Long may you live, and well may you Ascend.”
The moment she finished, she wrapped her wings around herself and completely disappeared. The scrollport wrapped itself up on its own and grew dull, no longer shining with a message that needed to be heard. I placed the scrollport on a table and turned back to the platter of food.
If you choose to live by your stomach, we’re given no other choice. We will choose to let you die by it.
The food and drink was a test. Starve and pass. Or eat and die.
“What in the stars—”
A piercing scream exploded outside of my chamber doors from the main hall of our Order’s tower. I whipped around, running for the door, yanking it open with a wing. When I ran outside, the rest of Seventh Choir was in the hall, equally confused.
“I thought it was one of you!” I yelled.
“So did we!” Isandra said.
Amayah and Kazemir were glaring at our main doors that led to the outside.
“What is it?” Ellabeth snapped, catching them staring.
The scream rang out again. We all looked at each other. Then we ran barefoot, sandals in hand, throwing them onto our feet as we launched into flight. Omarion got to the doors first and threw them open. We poured out after him and froze mid-flight.
Angels spilled out of their wingtowers.
And hundreds of them were being burned alive.
From the inside out.
“What in the stars is going on?” Daelun cried.
“Oh my stars! Look!” Isandra cried.
I could only stare as the eyes of all the burning Seraphim turned from the elements that made up their bodies, into weapons that began choking them out.
Every angel struggling to stay alive had fresh food in their mouths.
They were decaying from within while they were mid-chew.
I covered my mouth with a hand as one female spat out the food, trying to get it off her tongue.
But it was too late. Her wings began withering.
Shriveling. Decaying. She screamed in agony. Begged for help.
But what in the stars could we do?
We will choose to let you die.
“This is a trial,” I whispered.
Seventh Choir snapped their heads in my direction.
I kept my gaze on the dying Ascendants.
“If you choose to live by your stomach, we’re given no other choice. We will choose to let you die by it.’ This is a trial…”
“Holy…” Ellabeth ogled the dying, horrified.
“Those who read the scrollport or just took too long to notice are spared,” I continued.
“And those who got greedy…” Omarion’s words trailed off.
Seraphim began dropping like flies, the feathers of their wing pairs deteriorating.
My spirit ached at the waste of their lives.
They died simply because they wanted food.
Manmi always said only the strong, the vigilant, and the worthy survived to Ascension.
Were they not worthy just because they were hungry?
If you choose to live by your stomach.
The words wouldn’t stop echoing in my mind. If not food, then what were we suppose to live by?
Angels do not live by Manna alone, but by all the written words that come from the Infinite himself.
My nose wrinkled. Something about all of this felt…
wrong. I couldn’t fathom the Infinite taking our lives like this.
Not so carelessly. But Manmi had said there were things in the Temple I wouldn’t understand.
I had to simply trust the process and Ascend into the Farasee Order if I ever wished to make a difference on an impactful scale.
With all of Seventh Choir, I slipped back, leaving the dying Ascendants to their fates. It seemed we all came to the same conclusion. We came here to Ascend, not to die in the process. Those who didn’t make it, may the Infinite guide their spirits into the Ellelights.
I couldn’t help but feel like something in me was rotting away with them.
I watched as the angels burned, and rotted, and screamed.
Until my ears rang with their cries, and my eyes were stained with their golden blood.
Until they died one after another until all that was left was silence and their phantom, desperate pleas to be saved.