Chapter 30
Flying through the cathedral doors, I flew through Disciples, navigating around them until I made it to my seat. A moment later, Quazar plopped himself into the seat beside me, crossing his legs over the desk.
“Care to have some kind of decorum?” I grumbled.
He turned his head to me, lowering his eyes to mine.
“Oh, so I have to dress like a Prince and act like one, too?” He raised a brow. “That’s a lot of rotting demands, don’t you think?”
A lot? He wasn’t serious.
I looked into his face.
He was.
I ignored him. I didn’t have capacity to be riled up by him again, lest some poor fool from Manna Order pay the price.
“Wings high, Disciples.”
We all shot to our feet and clapped our wings twice.
“Wings high!” we all called out at Presbitari Davithius.
Well. We all as in all of the Disciples.
Not a single Legionnaire rose to their feet, let alone acknowledged Presbitari Davithius.
“You could at least show a little respect,” I hissed quietly, only for Quazar to hear.
“At least?” he questioned. Loudly. “And what would you have me do at most, Starling?”
Davithius’s eyes found Quazar and lingered, before he let that steely gaze find me, full of curiosity. I ignored Quazar, keeping my mouth shut. He would not get the chance to draw everyone’s attention to me.
“Take your seats Disciples,” Davithius said when he realized the Legionnaires weren’t budging.
When we all sat down, he raised his hands, summoning a projection so vivid it looked real enough to touch. I pulled out my scroll and feather pen, prepared to take notes.
“Welcome to Sanctuary. This dawn, you will begin learning about the Realm Gates.”
“I’m sorry,” an angel called out from Bond Order.
She was a female.
Every male around her turned around and sneered. Stars. Thank the lights I hadn’t been sent to Bond Order. “What do you mean Gates, as in plural? I thought there was only the Seal Gate?”
“Maybe if you’d shut up and let him teach, you’d learn there are four Gates, imbecile.”
The male who spoke up was from Scroll Order.
Of course.
I refused to look over there. I ground my teeth, keeping my mouth shut. I would mind my business this dawn. I would mind. My business. This dawn.
“There’s no need to reprimand a fellow Disciple like that,” Davithius called out, frowning. “It was an innocent question.”
“Every male knows these preliminary details. Four Gates accessible by the Four Fallen Kings. Everyone knows that,” Tharic said.
He was so smug. So full of pride. So full of rot.
I was incensed for the female Disciple. The words left my mouth before I could stop them.
“You know Tharic, I’m not saying you’re the dumbest angel in all the realms, but you’d better pray for your sake that the dumbest angel doesn’t die.”
My voice carried out over the entire cathedral. Every head turned to me. Except for Quazar. He was too busy memorizing the stitching on his boots. But I caught the twitch of his lips, and the shake of his shoulders, as he played with a writhing ball of shadows in his palm.
“What was that, Anathelle?” Tharic snapped.
I turned and found him glaring, his eyes already alit with fire. Stars. I thought I had a temper.
“You might want to speak up if you want to sound like anything besides a bloodthorning goddess.”
My eyes widened. Ellabeth began pushing up out of her seat. I gripped her arm, pulling her back down. I gestured at Tharic, unimpressed by his attempt to intimidate me.
“See what I mean? Still dumb as a chest of seashells.” I bat my long lashes at him.
“I said, you half-shaven baboon.” I tilted my head as Quazar snorted to my right.
“There aren’t four Realm Gates.” I paused letting the words hang in the air a moment.
“There are three. Three Realm Gates. Each Realm Gate contains two portals within. And each of these portals leads to one of the six Hèls. Each of these Hèls have an overseeing Shadowlord. And these six Shadowlords all bow their knees to one High King.” I slid my gaze to Quazar who’d stilled beside me. “Fallen High King Zemshaza Beliah.”
The cathedral was silent.
Then.
The majority of the males tilted their heads back and began cackling at the top of their lungs, their shoulders shaking. My cheeks heated. I almost thought I was wrong. But then I noticed not a single Fallenspawn was laughing.
Tharic grinned wide like the pompous rotpot that he was. “What a load of absolute bullrot—”
“She’s right.”
“She’s what?”
Davithius’s baritone voice cut through the laughter, instantly silencing the angels. Everyone looked at Davithius, slowly turned to me, then back to Davithius. It was so quiet you could hear a feather drop.
“Disciple Safah is correct,” Davithius said again, crossing those big arms over that chiseled body beneath his fitted robes. “There are three Gates, not four. And there are six Shadowlords but only one Fallen High King.”
I sat straighter, tucking my wings close. I lifted my chin like a shield against the subtle glares aimed my way from around the cathedral. Even from the females.
“You know how to keep a target on your back, don’t you?”
“Piss off.”
A slip of shadow curled into my mind, tickling my thoughts as a low chuckle danced around my head flooding my body with heat.
“Now, who knows where the three Gates are located?”
Wings shot into the air waiting to be called on.
Davithius called on a male from Bond Order, Second Dominion, Third Choir.
“The Seal Gate is here in Ouanaviel on an abandoned island only Legionnaires have access to.”
Only Legionnaires my rotting backside. I snorted low, remembering the Hèls that was my first trial in the Temple.
“Didn’t like your playdate with the Spirit Harvesters?”
“Stay out of my head.”
“No,” Quazar responded down the bond. “It’s too much fun.”
“Burning, pale-faced demon.”
“Pale? Yes. Beautifully chiseled by a Pasaillien Celestial? Also yes.”
I looked over at him slowly. Did he seriously just say his face had been carved by the Celestial beings who crafted the entire kingdom of the Infinite with their own hands?
“So not just a bastard,” I said. “We’re a cocky bastard.”
“Only the best kind.”
Quazar grinned wide. It was only now I saw the slightest sharpened tips of his teeth. Like they were made for biting. My gaze lingered. His grin stretched.
I looked away, focusing back on the lesson. I slammed the veil in our minds down, effectively blocking him out from our bond. Quazar huffed below his breath.
“So all Anathelles are no fun,” he whispered. “Got it.”
I took a deep breath, fighting my rising fury.
“Which island?” Davithius called out.
No one answered.
Ellabeth leaned over to me.
“So you’re not going to answer when you know where it is? Or?” She raised her brows, prodding me with that fierce gaze of hers. I sighed, lifting a wing.
“Disciple Safah.”
All heads turned to me.
“The island of Namenthys, though we now call it Barrenrock. It was…purged after it was discovered that the Hallowed who lived there were fraternizing with the Fallen, eventually giving them access to the empyrean by letting them breach the Seal Gate.”
“Correct again,” Davithius said. He gave me a weird smile. As if there was more truth to what I’d said and he was disappointed I hadn’t realized it already.
“Is that what you were told? That the Hallowed of Namenthys were responsible for their demise?”
Quazar’s question caught me by surprise.
Obviously that’s what happened. The worst slaughter of Hallowed angels, of all ranks, in the history of the last Six Ages, happened when the Namenthiens let the Fallen in.
Every scrollbook known to angelkind was full of the detailed history.
Surely he knew this. I looked over at him. His jade eyes pierced into me.
“And you believe it?” he pressed.
I nodded. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s literally a fact. Crack open any scrollbook and every account aligns.”
Quazar stared at me a long time without a word before simply turning away. I frowned. Why did I feel like I’d just flunked an exam? He went back to playing with his shadows, as Davithius prowled on.
“The Seal Gate is indeed in Barrenrock, formerly known as Namenthys.”
Davithius put his hands into the projection and spread them out as if he was tearing a long strand of feathers. The more he pulled his hands apart, the more the projection zoomed in. We went from overlooking the barren island, to narrowing on the spot I’d been in just weeks ago.
I narrowed my eyes, glaring at the Seal Gate.
Even in this projection, it seemed massive.
Davithius snapped his hand back, and the projection filled the entire cathedral.
I sat up, my back ramrod straight. It felt like I was on Barrenrock all over again.
I began breathing fast, my hands growing clammy.
“This was the first Gate created. It was made by Shadowlord Abbadani. We don’t pay much mind to the other two: the Trumpet Gate and the Vial Gate. Why is that?”
“That’s easy,” Ellabeth called out. “The Fallen from those realms don’t care about the empyrean or trying to invade. They’ve left us alone, so we leave them alone.”
“That’s right,” Davithius said, looking across the cathedral. “They stay on their side of the Gates, and we stay on ours. However, the Seal Gate is growing to be an increasing problem.”
I raised a brow.
“Define problem, Presbitari,” a male called out. I didn’t bother looking to see which Order they belonged to.
“An invasion one,” Davithius said with finality. “Fallen are not breaching the Gates, but their hèlborns are.”
“What?” another male called out. “Demons can’t cross without being given access from our side. That’s not possible Presbitari.”
Davithius leveled a gaze at him. The male was sitting to the very back of Manna Order.
“You’re saying I’m an uneducated liar?”
I lowered my gaze. Davithius’s tone took the same one Papi did when he told us to keep going, which effectively meant we’d better stop pushing him or our wings would suffer the consequences. My ears twitched. I hated second-hand embarrassment.
“No, Presbitari, of course not—”
“Shut up and let him teach!” Tharic barked.
Silence fell. I rolled me eyes, but I kept quiet.
“As I said, the hèlborns are coming through, and they aren’t coming through alone. They’re bringing fiendish creatures with them that would spit out your bones and feast on your souls.”
“He’s talking about Spirit Harvesters, isn’t he? I asked down the bond before stopping myself.
“Are we back to talking again? I hadn’t realized.”
“For Infinite’s sake. You know what—”
“It’s called a joke, Starling. Breathe. Yes, he’s talking about Spirit Harvesters. But they’re not the only problem.”
“This is why the Legions of Azarath Academy have been brought into Temple Efysis this Ascension cycle. More than ever, Disciples and Legionnaires must work together. Your ability to bond and defend against what is crossing the gate will determine if the empyrean stands or falls. If you can’t work together for the good of the empyrean, the Fallen will breach the gate and conquer us all. ”
Ellabeth and I shared a look.
Manmi had taught me about perfecting my skills as an Incense Fuser.
About the Starfellien Ascent. About standing my ground against males in the Order.
About needing to maintain the spiritual morality of the empyrean.
About hating evil and doing everything I could to Ascend and make a difference in the empyrean by serving the Temple for the rest of my life.
She never said anything about me being trained to defend in war.
“You have all been assigned to your Order’s based on your ethèr and your lifelong abilities.
All in Bond Order are fully equipped to help on the communal front of the war effort.
The morale of Legions can make or break a war.
Manna Order, you’re all equipped with sustaining the Legions.
Tell me how many starving legions win wars? ”
Silence.
“Exactly.” He turned to the side of Scroll and Incense Order.
“Scroll Order, you have the most powerful weapon to exist: The Holy Saccrent. You’re able to extrapolate the verses of its divine laws and morph them into weapons for the battlefront.”
Then those steely eyes landed on Incense Order.
“And Incense Order. You are Spirit Filers. Incense Fusers. Taking the prayers of the Hallowed, fusing them into incense, and sending them directly to the Infinite or collecting them as incense powder for weapons. This is one of the greatest gifts you can give to this empyrean.”
He used his wings, gesturing to our bonded warriors.
“Each of these Legions will rely on you collectively should a war take place with the Fallen kingdoms. They need all of you, and you all need each other. Is that clear?”
“Awoui, Presbitari Davithius,” we cried, giving him a resounding yes in the common angelic tongue.
“Good.” His eyes chilled like ice, dancing with excitement. “Now open your scrollbooks. There’s much to dissect about the Seal Gate.”