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AZRAEL had made it back to her chambers just as the illuminated motes danced across the slit in the curtains in promise of a new day.
She sat on the overly plush bedding and the air felt cold and lonely, despite the warm glow of Manor Saffron’s Inner Sanctum. Rubbing her face, she groaned and peered at the statue of a woman that seemed to be watching her. The figure’s white marble eyes showed pity and disappointment. She was the embodiment of all Azrael’s fears. She wasn’t strong enough to be Queen. She couldn’t possibly change anything if she were. She— Azrael looked away.
Her back burned and her mind buzzed with the fleeting thoughts that came with lack of sleep. Just as she was about to resign herself to lying awake, she spotted an ornate door she hadn’t noticed before. Perhaps the statue’s disappointment guarded it, or perhaps this was magic. The Queen hadn’t wished her to find it, until now.
Azrael cautiously tiptoed to the golden door, carefully stepping around the stone guardian. She turned the knob and the door eased open without a sound. She slipped inside and adjusted to the dim glow of the room. There were no windows, but as she waited for her eyes to adjust, the Divine-lit walls illuminated until she could see the entire room clearly. She gasped as a massive library was revealed, wall-to-wall shelves spanning a room almost as large as the celebratory chamber she’d danced her cares away. But here, there wouldn’t be prying stares. Here, scrolls and books and inks would be much more valued company.
Azrael dazedly wandered to the far end of the room, running her fingers across blood-red velvet couches. The couches surrounded a table that boasted three books, and the plush furniture begged her to test their comfort. She pondered lying on it and falling asleep among the unspoken knowledge of this room, but an extravagant study desk drew her attention. Framed by silver shelves stuffed with books and bottles of ink, the allure of knowledge called to her like the moon calls the sea. Azrael drifted to the shelves first, examining the titles and furrowing her brow when she realized the language was foreign.
On this side of the room, the marble floor was cool and the Divine heat was absent. She squeezed her arm through the shelves and books, and found the wall cool, painted over with metallic paint. Would these books be weakened by the Light? What did that mean?
Azrael returned to the velvet chairs and reexamined the three books laid out on the table. Their titles read: “The History of Hallowed,” “The Forbidden Records: Volume One,” and the last was written in swirling foreign letters that she could not read.
The door slammed.
Panicked, Azrael jumped from the couch and stared at the blocked exit. Decorated with countless jewels and bangles, the Queen eyed her with a mischievous smile.
“Eager to begin our studies, I see.” Her voice rang through the room as she stepped forward. Embroidered cloth shoes had replaced her usual heels, and she did not make a sound in her approach. Her garb constantly morphed to match that of her latest visitor.
Azrael rubbed her shoulders with discomfort. “I didn’t mean to pry. I was only looking for...” Her voice faltered to find a good excuse. She squirmed in the uncomfortable silence.
The Queen waved strands of bronze hair from her face as she crossed into the study. “Don’t fret yourself so, Azrael. This room, is in fact, your personal study. And I,” she placed a silky hand on Azrael’s cheek, “am to be your teacher.” The Queen’s rings were cold on her face. But Azrael welcomed it and smiled back.
“I have many duties, Azrael, but you are my most important one. If you are to be Queen, it is imperative that you learn all I know.” The Queen motioned to the books laid on the table, and Azrael realized they’d been intended for her. “You must strive to learn all the basics before your Acceptance is completed. However unlikely, there is always the possibility you are the next Alexandria. In which case, you will have many other pressing matters to attend to, far greater than that of becoming Queen of Terra. While a Queen is always needed to bring our children home, and raise them, a true Queen must live in Celestia, as she will have an entire race to lead.”
Azrael bit her lip. An entire race? Were there more Windborn? Did they have no Queen?
“Learning cannot take place without answers,” the Queen said. “I cannot answer unspoken questions.”
Azrael wanted to retort that she could, but took in a breath and held it a moment before breathing it out. “Aren’t you Queen?”
The Queen nodded. “Yes, though only recognized by the Terraborn, the humans. The angels are still waiting for their Queen. The Council has ruled in the void, and I can tell you, it’s a poor system.”
Azrael’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
The Queen tucked a lock of hair behind Azrael’s ear. “What else troubles you?”
Could she read every emotion so easily?
“Majesty, please forgive my forwardness, but I must know. I cannot fathom why our entire society has been lied to for so many years. Why have the angels remained a secret? Why is your magic kept to a tolerable rumor? The only spark of truth in our halls is the myths of legends that are told by traveling minstrels.” Azrael watched the Queen closely for any hint of a lie.
Queen Ceres adjusted one of the bangles on her arm. “That is a difficult answer to give. However, I can assure you the truth has been kept silent at no small price.” Her gaze grew distant. “Many have died at the hands of angels. I don’t fully know, nor understand, the logic of their ways. But it is Angelic Law that their presence remains hidden. I have sought all my life since my Acceptance for the answer to why their secrecy is so holy that it justifies eons of murder.”
“Murder?” Azrael ventured.
Azrael wasn’t sure, but the Queen’s skin seemed to pale just a shade.
When the Queen didn’t answer, Azrael glanced at the book written in the strange language. The Queen followed her gaze and picked it up, her fingers tracing the engraved letters. “This is a sacred book from the Windborn city. Even Gabriel doesn’t know it’s here. Though, he surely must suspect it.”
Azrael looked again at the strange symbols.
“The man I loved died to retrieve this book for me.”
Azrael jolted at the Queen’s revelation and clenched her jaw to prevent it from falling open.
“After he gave it to me, I never saw him again.” The Queen’s eyes misted, then control rippled through her body, leaving her stoic. She placed the book on Azrael’s lap. “I learned of his death after years of hoping he had found sanctuary. Yet, I was wrong, and he paid the ultimate price for my folly to understand Celestia.” She shook her head and her turquoise earrings glinted in the dim Divine-light filtering through layers of shelved books. “Hopefully, you will find answers where I have failed.”
Failing to keep her jaw clasped, Azrael gawked at her. In such few words she had spurred untold questions.
“Who was he?” Azrael asked, knowing full well she was pushing her authority with the Queen.
The Queen closed her eyes. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Azrael knew she couldn’t go any further. The pain that strained the Queen’s face made it clear that now was not the time to press her. Instead, Azrael considered the book still in her lap. It was leathery and faded, and when she ran a hand over the cover, it felt as if it were an object that didn’t belong. Physically, it seemed like an ordinary book. But an otherworldly and ancient aura emanated from it. The moment her finger traced the engraved symbols, a burning radiated from her healing Acceptance. Azrael gasped, not in pain, but in surprise.
The Queen softened her gaze, and grinned. “Yes, it has that effect on royalty.”
Azrael gave her a wary laugh, but when the feeling receded, she said nothing more.
#
THE book from Celestia was a forbidden treasure, one that Azrael hoped to decipher. She would have to learn the Windborn tongue, and it was all the motivation she needed to dive head-first into her studies.
For the next two weeks Azrael delved into ancient knowledge. Her days blurred, lonely studies in the dim library broken by the highlight of Gabriel’s teachings.
Today’s lesson was with the Queen instead of Gabriel, since he had gone to Celestia. Instead of being disappointed, Azrael seized the opportunity to get the truth out of Queen Ceres, once and for all.
As they sat in silence, the Queen took a rare moment to appreciate the beauty of the gardens. Azrael watched her, wondering how her approaching retirement made her feel. The Queen’s face was calm, almost serene as she watched the fountain’s display with folded hands. Her left shoulder sunk slightly lower than her right, giving her a semblance to a flawless statue. It wasn’t like the statue in her room, full of foreboding. The Queen seamlessly exuded sensuality and power. It was a skill taught at the Manor, one Azrael had never mastered. She marveled and envied the Queen’s beauty and poise.
The Queen must have sensed Azrael watching her, for her crystal green eyes snatched onto hers. The wave of emotion that swept through Azrael’s chest was questioning and searching.
“Majesty?” Azrael breathed. She was not accustomed to the magical push of emotion.
Queen Ceres smiled and her white teeth sparkled in the midday sun. “It is much easier to sense you now. You’re growing into your gifts. I can’t imagine what it’ll be like when you’ve completed the rite.”
Azrael pulled her legs under herself as she settled atop the soft, velvety grass. It had become her favorite spot. She felt closer to nature, more steadied and grounded. “Majesty,” Azrael began, “I have been through only one session of my Acceptance. Yet, I can see it has changed me. The world feels larger. The air feels heavier. I can more easily feel your magic as it pulls me when you reach out to me like that. Is this what you mean?”
A soft blush rose to the Queen’s cheeks and she lowered her eyelashes back to the fountain. “Few truly understand what it means to be Queen. Even fewer appreciate the sacrifice. My power encases this Manor and all those within it. It is my duty to keep every child healthy and alive until they have parted from this place.”
“Is that why there is never a Windborn above the age of eighteen?”
The Queen hummed in acknowledgment. “My power has its limits. I can hardly keep up with all those who reside here. Especially...” she trailed off and a wave of sadness tugged at Azrael’s heart.
“The hybrids,” Azrael offered.
The Queen looked to Azrael with a small chuckle. “You’re learning.”
It was all falling into place for Azrael now. Why the hybrids went mad. Why they were so feared and misunderstood. The Queen kept such fate from all Aedium. But there was something about a hybrid that hindered her ability.
“Why are hybrids different, Majesty? Is it our demon’s influence?”
The Queen frowned and soft lines crinkled at her eyes. It was the first time Azrael had ever noticed a deviation from perfection from Queen Ceres.
“Partly, yes. When Celestia sends the children down, they are unprotected, unloved. There’s nothing to prevent a demon from feeding on a drifting infant. They suck the Divine Material out like a hummingbird feeding on a flower. I’m not powerful enough to shroud the child in secrecy, like some Queens would do. That is why there is a surplus of female Windborn at Manor Saffron. It’s a testament to my weakness as Queen.”
Azrael’s breath caught in her throat. “Females?”
The Queen nodded. “Yes. Even you, my child, were born as a man. Only after exposure to a demon does the child molt into the female gender. It’s a natural reflex. Only a female can survive the infection of evil. We’re the stronger sex, but we’re not natural. Not when it comes to Windborn.”
Crystal tears glinted in the Queen’s eyes and Azrael steeled herself against the Queen’s sorrow. The waves of pain and guilt that emanated from the Queen were weighty and powerful. Azrael found herself wishing she could access the Light that should have been unlocked within her. The single session had been enough to open Azrael to the Queen’s power, but not enough to give her power of her own, rendering Azrael helpless against the onslaught.
“Majesty, please,” Azrael begged and clenched a fist to her chest. “Control your magic.”
“Apologies,” the Queen whispered. The sadness ebbed as her magic retreated.
Azrael relaxed and bit her lip before deciding to press on. I need answers.
“Majesty, what of the hybrids? I thought that to be a hybrid meant to have encountered a demon? But you say, every female has encountered one. So... What does that make me?”
The Queen wouldn’t match her gaze. Azrael had never before seen the Queen so uncertain of herself as she took a deep breath and flashed her tongue across her lip.
“A hybrid is living proof that Celestia does not keep their promise. They’re supposed to keep demons on their side of the border. Lesser, rogue demons aren’t a surprise. But when a hybrid shows up, we know an archdemon took hold of the child. Even demons have organization and leaders. Mehmet is their King. Archdemons are his generals.”
“An archdemon...” Azrael repeated the words. She hoped saying it aloud would reveal what that truly meant. But it only brought a chill to her heart. “And what of Meretta? She didn’t encounter the same type of demon as myself?”
The Queen nodded. “That’s correct. A lesser demon is easy for a child’s soul to accept. But an archdemon, such power and evil cannot be ignored. A hybrid is the result. Your soul couldn’t fully convert, you couldn’t accept servitude to such a creature. And so you were torn, given an orb to eventually choose the demon’s side when you were old enough to think on a higher level.”
“And why would you allow hybrids to keep their orbs?” Azrael couldn’t hide the accusation in her voice. The only other hybrid child in Manor Saffron had made a deal with her demon, and paid her life as the price.
“Only the soul to whom it is bound may touch the orb. It’s a magical object. Even if I found a way to toss it into the sea, it would return to the child it belonged to.” The Queen sighed and patted the empty spot on the bench. “Stop sitting on the ground like that. Let’s speak as equals, Azrael.”
Azrael, slighted by the conversation, smoothed the folds of her gown before rising and sitting next to her. But to be offered to be treated as equal by the Queen did more than enough to smooth her ruffled feathers. Even though she preferred the grass, Azrael straightened her back proudly as she sat one-on-one with one of the most powerful figures in Terra.
The Queen’s gaze bored into Azrael’s. There was such desperation and urgency that Azrael leaned in and took her hand in her own.
“Hybrids are blotted out of my gaze, don’t you see?” the Queen said as unfurling sorrow hit Azrael’s chest. “I can hardly control the Light in your soul when something dark and sinister shrouds it like a fog. My power is strained. I have to choose between the rest of my domain, or the hybrids. When you first came to me, I steadied you with all of my strength. But the other hybrids who came after? I had nothing left. You’re like a dark spot in my vision, an eclipse that won’t end. It’s my fault they died, not yours.”
Azrael’s throat constricted as the memory of the dead hybrid child resurfaced in her mind. “But if you used your strength to save me, then it is my fault,” Azrael whispered.
Azrael was surprised at the surge of anger that jolted through the Queen’s grasp. Azrael shrank back and the Queen released her.
“No, Azrael. Never blame yourself for things you cannot control. Do you understand me?”
Azrael looked down at the ground and shivered. “Yes, Majesty.”
Yet, feeling the Queen’s anger had sparked her own. Maybe we can’t control the demons above...but what of the demons below? What of those who purchase the Windborn as if they are trinkets to collect? Why do we just sit back and let this happen? Why do we do nothing about it?
“And the Windborn who pass the age of eighteen, Majesty?” Azrael found herself asking.
The Queen breathed out a sigh. “This is a tradition even a Queen cannot undo. Only through tributes from Windborn sales can we sustain the generation that comes next. It’s a vicious cycle, but the alternative is death.”
Azrael took a firm hold of a sliver of bravery as she raised her chin to the Queen. “You say then, that life is more valuable than freedom. If this is the case, I want to meet those you have sold, Majesty. I want to hear from their own lips that this was the right choice.”
In that statement, the Queen’s anger vanished. The Queen let her hands hang limp over her knees. “What?”
“I want to meet those the Manor has sold. I want to see what kind of life they live once they leave this place. If I’m to become Queen, and uphold this twisted duty, then I need to know this is what my charges want.”
Uncertainty clouded her features. But in her eyes Azrael saw a spark of respect. “Very well.”
Azrael hadn’t expected her to accept, at least, not so readily. “Really?”
The Queen laughed. “Don’t act so surprised. You are the Princess. Second to me, your will is law in Manor Saffron. But don’t let it go to your head, you still have to answer to me until your rite is complete,” she said with a pointed index finger.
Azrael smiled. “Understood.”