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AZRAEL didn’t entertain the question if she were dead. Death couldn’t be this horrific. Time wound itself into a little ball and she pulled at it like a cat playing with string. It went on and on forever, darkness and void. Nothing made sense, there was no up or down. There was only loneliness and the ever present shadow that called to her, asking her why she insisted on braving this world alone. His words, so twisted and snarled, didn’t offer any solace or protection. Nor did the ball of Light that flitted like a searing flame, bringing spots to her vision and a moment of heat before it was gone again. The Light ruled by fear, the Dark by seduction.
But the warmth on her face was different this time. It was steady, pleasant, and made her flutter her eyelids open. Like all nightmares, hers had finally come to an end.
Dry eyes struggled to take in the all-too-bright world, but it was the stark brightness of reality. Crisp air nipped at Azrael’s cheeks and she drew in a deep breath, almost instantly turning over to sobs. Pain scratched her throat at the effort of sound, as did a reverberating throb running up and down her back, reminding her that her Acceptance was still healing. But Azrael wanted to embrace the pain like a long lost friend. This was the pain of the living, pain of reality, a stark change from darkness and nightmares.
Her vision finally cleared and her familiar room in Manor Saffron’s Inner Sanctum came into view. The walls kissed her with their Light and steam drifted from a lonely cup of tea on the corner table, accompanied by a closed book resting beside it.
Azrael battled her way out of silk sheets that stuck to her skin, slick from sweat born of her nightmares. When she was able to sit up straight, she indulged in the steadiness that came from a world that did not spin or change, did not have lingering voices taunting her from terrifying corners of her mind. She was finally safe.
An otherworldly sense granted by her Acceptance told her that she was not only safe, but no longer alone. Meretta soon appeared in the doorway and gasped when she saw Azrael. Her hands shot over her mouth and tears sprang to her eyes.
Azrael’s heart cracked at the sight of Meretta’s disbelief and joy. It was the kind of joy someone kept locked somewhere deep inside, joy that could turn to grief should it never be opened. It suggested that Meretta had begun to believe that Azrael would never wake.
“Meretta. I’m okay,” Azrael assured her. Tears welled in her own eyes. She couldn’t stand to see Meretta in pain. The joy that washed over her face was so bright it hurt and Azrael spread her arms wide for an embrace.
Bursting into heart-breaking sobs, Meretta ran into Azrael’s arms, and her familiar lavender-scented locks splashed into Azrael’s face. The twinges of pain that ran up her back were welcome punishment for making Meretta reach this state of distress. She gripped Meretta as hard as she could, which wasn’t very much, but Meretta squeezed the very breath out of her with a shockingly strong grasp.
When Meretta loosened her grip, but hadn’t ceased her onslaught of tears, Azrael shushed her as she stroked her back, allowing Meretta’s slick curls to run through her fingers.
Finally, Meretta calmed herself and crumpled to the side of the bed. “I knew you’d wake up. I just knew it.” Her voice came out harsh and coarse, as if this wasn’t the first time she’d been crying.
A lump formed in Azrael’s throat and she swallowed hard. “Was I asleep long?”
Meretta laughed, a strangely derisive sound. “Two seasons.”
Azrael blinked. “What?”
“Fall passed, and then winter. The Queen said you could sleep forever, or if you did wake, you wouldn’t be yourself, but I refused to believe it. I couldn’t.” An old pain flushed Meretta’s face red and Azrael realized how long she’d been holding onto a fading hope, a hope that had turned into a stubborn lie she told herself every day. But then it passed and a more familiar joy refreshed her face. “She was wrong. You’re fine.” A contagious smile spread across her lips and Azrael couldn’t help but smile too.
Azrael took a moment to let the magnitude of her words sink in. Half of the seasonal cycle I have been trapped in those hellish dreams. And not wake up as myself? What does that even mean?
Meretta shook her head again. “You don’t know it, but you are the worst possible candidate for Queen.”
“Hey!” Azrael frowned in disappointment. “The Divine chose me, didn’t they? Even if it was...” She didn’t dare mention that all this came about after making a deal with her demon. Of course, what could go wrong after that? “The Divine agreed to my initiation, didn’t they?” Azrael persisted. “Was there some mistake?”
“Of course the Divine agreed, don’t be absurd. But it’s more the question of why they agreed, because...”
Azrael waved her hands at the silence. “Because?”
“You have the Mark.”
Azrael’s heart dropped to the floor. Having the Mark meant she should have been possessed by the demon long ago. He hadn’t only fed on her as an infant. He’d left a piece of himself behind. It hadn’t dissolved; it hadn’t been expelled when the Queen took her in. No, it had become a tangible shard, a Mark on her soul.
“Of course I have the Mark. It’s why hybrids are never chosen.”
Azrael growled with frustration, then shot a worried glance at Meretta. “How did you find out that I have the Mark, exactly?” Her voice drifted into silence, almost not wishing for an answer.
Meretta stared and opened her mouth as if to speak, but seemed to change her mind and shut it again. Azrael waited patiently, but Meretta stared at her blankly instead. It wasn’t like Meretta to be quiet, or to keep things from her. The hairs on the back of Azrael’s neck stood on their ends.
“I think it’s best if I let Gabriel inform you of the details,” Meretta said. “I’m grateful they’ve allowed my presence at all. I don’t want to overstep my place.”
Looking to the floor, Azrael conceded in spite of her rumbling fear and curiosity. She hugged her arms around her chest. Azrael knew she couldn’t feel it, but the connection with her demon was there. Not any demon, not just an archdemon like the Queen had told her about, but a demon beyond the pits of nightmares. Azrael clutched a hand to her chest as if she could reach for her tainted soul. A piece of him is in there. I’m truly damned.
Azrael’s breath came in short gasps as she realized what the dark place in her dreams actually was. That deep cold that she wrapped around herself for protection from the Queen’s magic. It was where she communed with him. It was where she had accepted him. She had sought solace in this place, as far from the Light as she could get.
Azrael’s skin crawled and her eyes shot up in sudden realization and fear. “It’s not over, Meretta. My Acceptance isn’t done. Without enough power, the demon could take me at any moment.” Azrael instinctually leaned back, trying to put distance between herself and her lifelong friend. “What if I hurt you?”
Meretta waved her hands dismissively. “Nonsense. You’ve come this far.” Meretta grasped Azrael’s hand with both of hers before Azrael could flinch away. Meretta’s grip was firm and reassuring, as if by sheer will she would prevent any further misfortune finding her friend. “There’s no way I’m going anywhere.”
Azrael’s heart warmed at her loyalty. But they both knew Azrael was a trap, taut and ready to spring its jaws closed. She didn’t want Meretta to be there when it did.
With no time to waste, Azrael rose from the bed. As air rippled the thin, frilly gown draped over her body, she could tell she had lost considerable weight. Her knees buckled the instant she tried to stand and Meretta grabbed her with a deft embrace before she could fall.
“What’re you doing?” Meretta chided. “You’re in no condition to go anywhere.” Meretta steadied Azrael by grasping her elbows and gently sat her back down. “I’ve been spoon feeding you, bathing you, and changing your clothes all this time. You can’t expect to pretend nothing’s happened.”
Azrael blinked. “You did what?”
Meretta scoffed. “I wasn’t going to let those incompetent servants lay a finger on you. They didn’t care if they dropped you or let you starve.” She frowned. But as she pulled away, Azrael noticed the new layers of muscles ripple across her forearms.
She’s done everything for me, alone. I can’t believe it.
“Meretta...”
Meretta shook her head. “You would’ve done the same for me, no doubt about it.” She jumped to her feet. “Now, if you’re so determined to run about, that’s fine. But you will let me help you.”
When Azrael nodded, Meretta grasped her forearm and pulled Azrael to her feet. Azrael leaned on Meretta heavily, never before feeling such weight of exhaustion. Meretta bore the burden with ease.
Finally standing on her own two feet, more or less, Azrael sighed with relief. “Thank you.”
In no time at all, Meretta had draped a warm, fluffy robe around Azrael’s shoulders and had her walking out of the room where two full seasons had passed her by. Instead of the brisk wind of fall, the hopeful breeze of spring trickled through the slitted windows. Birds chirped to announce they’d soon bring new offspring into the world, and servants went about their daily routines. But instead of pretending she didn’t exist, there were gasps of awe and Meretta had to chide a few who fell at their feet with reverence.
Azrael’s lips curved into a wry smile when she realized where Meretta was leading her. They were heading to the gardens where Azrael had first learned of her fate. Regardless of past experiences, it was the most beautiful place on the grounds. Plus, it was outside and Azrael craved more than the tease of life from the tiny windows, desired to hear the birds’ songs and feel the wind through her hair. She couldn’t imagine anything more healing than that.
When they arrived, Azrael was not disappointed. It was even sweeter air than the first breath Azrael had taken after waking from her nightmares. She swept her gaze over the familiar flowers, reveling as the scents of lavender and alyssum tinged her nose.
But the blue-eyed angel she’d wanted to see was nowhere in sight. The garden was empty, except for a cautious rabbit that watched the intruders intensely from underneath a thin bushel of leaves. The jeweled water fountain surged with familiar energy toward the lazy clouds. The flowers bloomed, and Azrael yearned with them as they stretched toward the sun.
Meretta lowered Azrael to a bench. Azrael hugged the robe around her shoulders with contentment. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Meretta said.
Azrael nodded and Meretta jogged back into the Manor. Azrael took the moment to enjoy the surrounding sounds, sights, and smells. She was simply happy to be alive, and sane.
Even with the healing peace of the gardens, Azrael shivered when her thoughts drifted to her nightmares. I have the Mark. I can’t believe it. Why couldn’t I have been one of the lucky ones and not even realized I had it at all? Azrael scoffed at herself. When was she ever lucky? No, it took something traumatic to bring out the nature of the Mark. She cringed as she remembered the Acceptance sessions. No doubt that had qualified as a traumatic trigger.
Azrael emptied her mind and listened to the howl of the wind. Meretta was right; winter had passed. Spring was here. The retreating cold nip of the air was pleasant and she stared into the gushing fountain. Azrael let herself relax, thinking of nothing for a long while.
The garden’s massive oak door to the Manor creaked open, revealing Meretta and the majestic angel. Gabriel’s eyes were so glassy, Azrael thought they sparkled until she realized they were full of tears.
Speechless, she stared as he glided to her side. “Azrael,” he whispered. She’d never heard him say her name like that.
“I’m okay,” Azrael offered.
Gabriel huffed a laugh and didn’t ask permission as he wrapped his arms around her bony shoulders. Shock turned to electrified butterflies flitting in her chest. Gabriel was hugging her, crying, and muttering something in her ear.
She realized what he was saying. He was apologizing.
Then her magic lit up without any effort at all. A deep flame ignited somewhere beyond her flesh, from her very soul using her Acceptance as a conduit. The magic engulfed her and she could feel Gabriel’s emotions raging through their clothes, searing across her skin where his touched hers, and it was amazing. She gasped and clutched his robes, unable to resist bringing him closer.
He felt guilt, so much guilt. The sadness of it choked the very breath from her lungs. But she could relate to his guilt. She felt the same. She’d put everyone in danger, put herself in this position.
But what surprised Azrael was what was underneath the guilt, the emotion fueling it with such ferocity. Guilt, not just for putting her in danger, but for growing to love her. Seeing her sleeping face every day, peering through the doorway so no one could see he was watching, willing her to wake up. And when he couldn’t be with her, he was in Celestia, begging any angel to protect the future Queen.
He loved her and Azrael couldn’t understand why.
“Gabriel?” It was Meretta who broke the silence. Her voice was sharp with fear and Gabriel instantly pulled away. His wings had been wrapped around them like a blanket and a cold breeze shocked her as it crept in. She blinked, but the world seemed too bright, emotions too raw. Meretta’s fear drifted in the air like steam, rising until it disappeared into the clouds.
“Azrael, can you hear me?” Gabriel’s voice was patient and soft. It didn’t hold any of the fear she was bracing for, just reverence. He had full confidence that if she could survive her nightmares, she could survive her own magic.
“What’s happening?” she asked. The world dimmed just a shade but she felt like she was floating, ethereal and only tied to her flesh by a tether.
“Get the Queen,” Gabriel commanded Meretta.
Meretta jerked her head with a nod and disappeared into the Manor. The world spun and Azrael couldn’t focus anymore. The flowers blurred together and the birds’ songs intermingled with the song of the Light. Transient and beautiful, she was enraptured and almost followed it out of her body.
Then a flash of blue grounded her, trapped her in a familiar iron web. “Stay with me,” Gabriel said. She locked onto his gaze and didn’t blink. Blue. Love. Faith. This was where she belonged.
By the time she had come out of the Light-induced trance, she was met by an audience of concerned stares. Mita, who looked more curious than fearful, the Hallowed, Meretta, and the Queen. Except, the Queen was staring blankly beyond to someplace Azrael couldn’t see with strain creasing her brow.
Azrael focused on the Queen’s eyes, wondering why they seemed so milky and grey. With a gasp, she realized the Queen had gone blind.
“She’s back,” the Queen said with relief.
Everyone’s shoulders relaxed and Mita clapped her hands together as if Azrael had performed a trick. “See?” Mita said. “You guys worry too much. She’s fine.”
Azrael pushed off the seat, momentarily staggering and leaned on Gabriel’s steady arm. “Majesty,” she said breathlessly. “What happened?”
A smile that didn’t quite reach the Queen’s eyes curved the edges of her mouth. “It seems my skill with the Light is not as strong as yours, my dear. But it’s enough to keep you with us for now.”
Azrael swallowed and a fresh wave a guilt threatened to overwhelm her. “I did this to you?”
The Queen waved a hand dismissively. “My physical blindness is only temporary, I assure you. When your Acceptance is complete, you’ll have the strength to ground yourself. Until then, you are my responsibility.”
Azrael found Gabriel’s gaze once again. His love had turned to sympathy and she didn’t have to ask her question. She waited for him to answer.
“You’ve been fighting for dominion over your soul,” he explained gently. “The demon took ahold of you for a period of time, animating your body. Only the Queen could—” he stopped and Azrael realized it was because she’d begun to cry.
She crumpled into his arms, unashamed as the sobs came, even in front of everyone. She could still feel their emotions, their pity and their fear. This was how they knew she had the Mark. They’d seen her, snarling and mad with evil-lust. They’d never believed she would wake, and even Meretta’s hope had thinned to a fine thread that could have broken at any moment. Only Gabriel was solid and serene, and she buried herself into his chest, trying to crawl inside the bubble of protection.
“I think everyone should leave,” Gabriel offered.
When the audience began to comply, Azrael peeled herself away from his chest. “Meretta,” she whispered meekly.
And so Meretta stayed while everyone hunched their shoulders and crept out of the gardens.
“Their emotions, it’s so raw,” Azrael tried to explain.
Gabriel smiled and his thumb grazed her cheek. She thought for a terrifying moment that he was going to kiss her as he leaned in, but then she realized he was looking at her eyes with more fascination than romance.
“You’re using the Light, even now,” he said as he pulled away. “You’ll be the strongest Queen this world has ever seen.”
Azrael blinked, both proud and terrified. “How do I stop?”
To her surprise, Gabriel huffed a laugh filled with delight. “I haven’t the faintest clue. I’ve never had to tell anyone how to not use the royal magic.”
As she wrapped her fingers protectively around her elbows, Meretta’s warm hand found her shoulder. “Azrael,” she said. “You’re doing great.”
Azrael could sense the fear lying underneath her words like cockroaches, but she smiled anyway. “Thank you.”
#
WHEN Gabriel had left, Azrael spotted a downy feather stuck between shards of grass. She bent to pick it up.
“What’re you doing?” Meretta asked.
“It looks like the stress is making him molt.” It was all Azrael offered as a response. It wasn’t as if he could reattach the feathers, but she wanted to keep them anyway. There was a trail leading to the Manor and she absently picked them up and gathered them in the folds of her robe.
Meretta followed in silence and her emotions bubbled, a rainbow of fear and hope. She loved Azrael like a sister, she didn’t need her magic to feel that. But to feel what was underneath hurt more than Azrael cared to admit. Meretta was her best friend, but she was also a Windborn whose soul had accepted evil at birth. In her heart, she’d always be flawed, but that was okay. Azrael didn’t fancy herself perfect either, Mark and all.
A whisper of voices jolted Azrael from her mindless chore of gathering feathers and she instinctually grabbed onto Meretta’s hand. The two eased to the wall and the pile of feathers drifted to the ground as they listened.
“This is completely out of hand!” the Queen’s unmistakable voice echoed through the halls. “We need to get the Council to talk to their experts and find us the answers we need. Not the fanatics you call allies.”
Meretta’s hands rested on Azrael’s shoulder as she crept closer to the corner, straining to hear.
“I’ve told you, Majesty, the Council has been very clear that this is the Manor’s problem.”
The Queen growled with agitation, which was followed by a flutter of feathers.
“The Divine agreed to her name for the Acceptance. They know what they’re doing. Does your kind have no faith at all in their creators? Is there no one left? I can’t keep doing this, Gabriel. I’m going to lose her to the Light, and what then?”
There was another ruffle of feathers. “Celestia has disconnected itself from the Divine in many ways. But unlike them, I have faith she’ll survive,” Gabriel said, and Azrael knew it to be true. There had been nothing but unshakable faith and love in his azure eyes.
Azrael stiffened at the silence that followed. She looked to Meretta, but Meretta only shrugged. Both girls started when Gabriel spoke again.
“Hallowed? You said her body seems to have been continually trying to utilize the Divine Material, correct?”
A familiar grunt sounded from the Hallowed. She assumed the reaction was supposed to mean “yes.” Azrael leaned closer to the sweltering wall, ignoring the sweat that gathered on her skin.
“This has never been recorded in history,” Gabriel said, his voice steadied with authority. “This goes beyond our apprehension that she has the Mark. She has a truce with the Light. Just as she has a truce with the Dark. Her celestial ease with both worlds is extraordinary, but it leaves her vulnerable. She would only need to lower her guard for a single moment for one or the other to gain control. She needs our guidance. I beg of you, consider allowing me to more thoroughly train her before resuming her Acceptance. There’s so much she can learn, and it’ll give her a better chance at survival.”
The Queen sighed. “Have you not noticed I’ve gone blind just to keep up with the girl? I love her like a daughter, but I have never had to push myself this far. I’ll do whatever I can to help her survive, but if you train her in the ways of the royal magic, she’ll be far beyond my help. She’ll be uncontrollable, and someone like you should realize the danger unchecked power can do.”
Mita cleared her throat. “I agree. The Queen can barely handle Azrael as it is, forgive my bluntness, Majesty. But making her stronger could push her out of the Queen’s capabilities. Imagine the damage she could do when she dreams. We must not let her learn anything more of her abilities before her Acceptance is completed. It’s too dangerous.”
Meretta’s hand tightened on Azrael’s shoulder as she leaned in to hear Mita’s remarks. It wasn’t comforting to see that Mita was opinionated, and more informed than Azrael realized about her current condition. Azrael couldn’t resist any longer and peered warily around the corner. Meretta tugged on her gown, but from their angle, Azrael was certain they wouldn’t be discovered.
Gabriel furrowed his brow at Mita before he turned to the blind Queen. “Majesty,” he said sternly. “If she doesn’t learn her abilities, perhaps they will rise from her subconscious. What dangers will there be then, when she doesn’t even know what she’s doing? We should train her further before she continues the Acceptance. We need to give her a fighting chance against the forces inside her soul.”
Mita glowered at Gabriel while the Hallowed at her side seemed bored. Even though his shoulders sagged, he had his head cocked to the side. He was listening with as much fervor as Azrael was.
“I will take all opinions into careful thought,” the Queen replied. “However, at the moment, I want answers.” The Queen’s expression became softer. “I appreciate your concern, Gabriel. Your expertise is well founded, and I do intend to resume her training as soon as possible. But until she learns to stop utilizing the Divine Material, I think it wise to refrain from her training. We need to tread carefully, especially without Celestia’s support.”
Gabriel nodded with a polite smile, accepting her decision. Azrael would have thought him calm if it hadn’t been for the waves of frustration clouding the air around him as a few more feathers molted and drifted to the ground.
Queen Ceres took her leave. To Azrael’s relief, she didn’t turn back towards the gardens and was fast out of sight. The Hallowed left as well, disappearing quietly around a separate corridor.
Gabriel turned toward them and Azrael squished Meretta back into the wall. Meretta hissed as Azrael’s elbow stabbed into her ribs.
Before Gabriel had a chance to depart, there was a rush of fabric and Azrael peered around the corner of the golden hallway. Mita had grabbed his arm.
“Gabriel,” Mita ventured, saying his name sweetly. She giggled as his feathers brushed against her arm as he turned. “I’m sorry for opposing you,” she said.
He put a hand on her shoulder and she blushed. Azrael ignored the pang of jealousy that grazed against her heart.
“You only wish the best for Azrael, just as I do.”
Mita nodded and shyly tucked a tuft of her short hair behind her ear. “I wanted to ask you...has a Hallowed ever been chosen by the Divine for the Acceptance?”
He laughed. “No, of course not.”
Her face fell in dismay. “Why?” Her eyes misted and her lips puckered with disappointment. Azrael wondered if the tears were genuine.
He rubbed her arm. “Oh, dear Hyanthia. I didn’t know that you hoped to be chosen. No, I’m sorry to tell you that a Hallowed cannot utilize Divine Material like a Windborn can.”
“But,” she squeaked, “I am a Windborn! Doesn’t that technically mean that it could be possible?”
“No, Hyanthia. I’m sorry. It isn’t possible. The mind cannot handle both Divine Material in the soul and also in the body. Not when it’s already naturally part of you. Implanting it like that would be overwhelming. You’d likely go mad.”
“Well, has a Hallowed ever asked the Divine if I would be suitable? You know that they have to ask specifically! If no one ever asks if I could be chosen, then I never will be!”
Gabriel’s face went hard, seeming impatient that he had to explain any further. “Hyanthia, I’m sorry. A Hallowed can only ask for one person one time in their life, and then they can never encounter the Divine again. It is a known fact that Hallowed cannot be chosen. Therefore, it would be foolish to ask.”
She grabbed his hand and gave him a pleading expression. “But, what if being Hallowed is just a side-effect of what the Divine do to create someone who can Turn? I mean, has a Hallowed ever been given a chance? You can’t know for sure! Please, I know I at least have a better chance than Azrael. She’s got a little Divine Material in her blood and she suddenly gets possessed. That should tell you Mehmet has done something to her. Don’t let her fool you.” She pointed a crooked finger toward the gardens. “That monster is who she really is.”
To Azrael’s astonishment, Gabriel snatched his hand away and slapped her. Mita’s face lashed from the force and she held a hand to her cheek in surprise. Meretta and Azrael nearly stumbled from their hiding spot in shock. “If I ever hear you talk like that again I’ll take you to the Queen myself for treason. One day, it will be Azrael whom you will call Queen. Learn your place.”
Mita’s fists clenched as she kept her gaze on the floor. Gabriel turned to leave, and then paused as anger and disappointment flashed on his face as the air rippled with red. He sighed and turned, walking in the direction the Queen had gone.
Mita trembled as tears spilled over her cheeks. “I’ll show them,” she said to the walls, grinding her teeth. “You’ll see! I’m the one who holds the key. Not that little demon possessed brat.” She clenched her fists again and Azrael froze, fearing that Mita was glaring straight at her. Instead, Mita turned on her heel and stomped off in the direction that her Hallowed master had gone.
Azrael fell to her heels, shaking with the effort of holding herself up and quivered as she digested the information. Likewise, Meretta kneeled and stared at the floor for a long while. When Azrael placed a hand on her knee, she trembled.
“Did you hear all of that?” Azrael whispered.
Meretta nodded slowly, her eyes wide. “I can’t believe it.” Her nostrils flared and her ears went red.
“At least we know the truth.” Azrael shakily pulled herself to her feet. “Come on, let’s go to the study. I don’t want to be discovered here.”
Meretta followed in a numb haze as they retreated past the gardens where Azrael’s room was waiting.
Back in the study, all energy had dissipated and left Azrael feeling like a husk full of other people’s emotions. Meretta’s fear had turned to a flash of anger, followed by confusion and the hurt of betrayal. Azrael clung to Meretta’s emotions, having none of her own, feeling numb and lost.
“You doing okay?” Meretta asked as the pair settled onto a velvet sofa.
One feather still clung to her robes and Azrael freed it, careful not to break the stem as she unwound the threads from the tiny fibers. She twirled it between her fingers as she answered. “I can’t believe Mita really feels that way about me.”
Meretta chuckled. “I can’t believe Gabriel slapped her. He must have a major thing for you or something.” She playfully nudged Azrael in the ribs. “Quite some chemistry I saw in the gardens.”
Azrael bypassed the remarks and shook her head. “I’m serious. Mita isn’t really like that, is she?”
Meretta stared at her hands and traced the pattern of her dress. “Maybe it’s just the situation. She hates it, but it’s not tangible, so she uses you as a target.” Her green eyes met Azrael’s. “Remember what she said? She wanted to be Chosen, but it’s not even an option. It’s got to be hard for her.”
It was Meretta’s way to try and sympathize with evil, or explain it away, a trait Azrael didn’t share.
Azrael let her head fall onto the sofa. “She hates me and I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”
Meretta jumped from her sofa and settled next to Azrael. “Let’s not worry about it. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment. Maybe deep down, she’s really a nice girl.”
Azrael swerved her eyes in Meretta’s direction, raised her eyebrows and laughed. “Yeah, right. You think everyone is nice deep down.”
“I tell you what. Tomorrow we’ll go find her and work all of this out. Let’s give her a chance to explain herself.”
Azrael groaned, letting her gaze return to the ceiling and wished there was a window instead of the oppressive weight of stone. Why does she have to be so nice?
“All right,” Azrael reluctantly agreed, “we can go if you really want. But if she turns out to honestly hate me, we’re leaving.”
Meretta clapped her hands with victory.
Azrael rolled her eyes again, though a smile twitched at her lips. “Really Meretta, why do you—”
Their conversation was cut short by the sound of the Queen approaching. Her tiny shoes clicked on the marble floor as she walked the distance to the end of the study.
“Well, you aren’t studying very hard,” the Queen observed.
“Majesty?” Azrael instinctually sat up straight, but slumped again when she met the Queen’s blind stare.
“I hoped I’d find you here. If you feel up to it, I believe I have a subject you’ll find useful. On the desk, there.” She pointed directly to the desk without hesitation. “The second volume of the Forbidden Records, and an elementary book on the Windborn language. And of course, the secret Windborn book is in the drawer,” she said as she opened her palm and motioned to the smaller desk.
Azrael cast a look to Meretta with pursed lips.
“Don’t worry. Meretta is your advisor, is she not? She shall learn all that you learn, and more.”
Meretta and Azrael glanced at each other briefly.
The Queen laughed. “I’m not as blind as you may think. I can feel your hearts, or have you forgotten how your magic works? Besides, I know this study better than you know the Windborn ward.” She smiled. “And, yes of course, I know very well that the two of you have been closer than two strands of thread your whole lives. I wish the best for the children of this Manor. I love you all. Especially you two girls,” she added with a wink.
Azrael’s mouth fell open with surprise. “Thank you, my Queen, thank you very much.” Azrael smiled broadly, seeing her in a new light. Not just their superior, but truly a mother.
“Stop staring at me like that. Don’t think I can’t feel you staring. I’m allowed to have feelings,” the Queen said. Meretta politely covered her mouth and giggled. “Well, let’s get back to your studies. Enough of this silliness.”
The Queen cleared her throat and began to roam the bookshelves. “I’ve been giving your situation some thought, and I realize there may be some answers within this study. While studying your magic may be dangerous, there is nothing dangerous about arming yourself with history. There is a book that may help you learn why you cannot stop utilizing the Divine Material in your body. Or at least, tell you how you’re doing it, so that you may learn how to stop it.” She paused. “Ah, here it is,” she said, pulling out a massive, yellowed tome. She sat down between Meretta and Azrael, ignoring their shocked stares.
“This book is comprised of the accounts of observers, Hallowed, and many different kinds of people who were, at one time or another, involved with Divine Material, including past Queens and their experiences with their Acceptance.”
Azrael eyed the book with a sense of greed. Such knowledge sounded priceless. Then she looked at the Queen’s milky eyes. “When you went through your Acceptance, did you go through the same training as I am now? Did you ever have any issues?” Azrael ventured.
The Queen offered a heartfelt sigh. “That was a long time ago. The Acceptance itself I remember, how could one forget the flames... and Gabriel was there. He tried to train me, but I was unskilled. It was only after my Acceptance was completed that I came into the royal magic, but even then, it came with effort.” She rubbed her eyes. “It still does.”
“And your magic,” Azrael pressed, “is it limited to emotions?”
The Queen nodded. “That, and the art of oppression. Emotions power our decisions, and if you can influence emotions, you can influence the person.” She straightened. “It’s proved the most useful skill as Mistress of Manor Saffron.”
It made sense. The Queen’s magic had always been like a fog, drifting over those she wished to influence. But any real display of power cost her dearly, and Azrael had never seen her keep it up for long.
The Queen continued. “The best way for you to protect yourself is to learn. But not how to work your magic, rather the history of it. That’s why I’ve provided these records.” She waved an open hand to the books laid out on the table. “They’ve been transcribed over hundreds of years of every Saffron Queen. Even my own account of the Acceptance is within its pages. However, as intriguing as the accounts may be, I encourage you to learn the Windborn language as soon as possible. Part of a Queen’s duties is to liaise with Celestia.”
Azrael tilted her head with curiosity. Learning the Windborn tongue hardly seemed pressing. But the way the Queen lowered her chin, Azrael knew she had other reasons. There was more to dealing with Celestia than liaison. Azrael pinched her lips and nodded. “I would be honored to continue to learn the Windborn tongue, Majesty.”
“Wonderful. Now, let’s practice your vocabulary. Grab that Windborn book on the table.”
The Queen spent hours drilling Azrael until her grammar and pronunciation were correct for each sample sentence.
Meretta listened with interest. Occasionally, she would part her lips like the Queen instructed, attempting to mimic the shapes.
Azrael had a headache right in the front of her forehead by the time the Queen was satisfied with her progress. The Queen swept away to tend to her duties.
“Phew, I’m so tired. If one more thing is crammed into my head today, I’ll explode,” Azrael complained, falling onto the sofa and letting her arm roll off and balance on the edge. Even without a window, she knew night had rolled in long ago.
Meretta giggled. “Oh come on, there’s still plenty to learn! You can’t possibly go to sleep with your eyes glowing like that.”
Azrael closed her eyes in experimentation. A red tint glowed where blackness should have been. “Wow, you’re right. This is horrible.”
Meretta giggled again. “See? I told you. Let’s look at that book her Majesty gave you.”
Azrael groaned, but knew Meretta was right to at least try. “Fine.”
Meretta pulled the book from the table and let its weight sink her deep into the couch. She opened it excitedly.
I’ll never know where she get’s all that energy, Azrael thought enviously as she longed for bed.
Azrael flicked her fingers across the sofa’s velvety arm, waiting for Meretta to find something interesting. “You know, I wonder if Hallowed have trouble sleeping. I never thought about it,” Azrael said.
Meretta nodded. “You should ask Mita about it tomorrow.”
“You find anything yet?” Azrael asked impatiently.
Meretta flipped a page. “Well, I don’t know if there’s any kind of order to this or not. You’re so much better than me at this kind of thing, you did want to be a scribe after all.” She fluttered her eyelashes to accentuate her poorly hidden flattery.
Pulling herself up with a groan, Azrael took the book from Meretta.
Hardly fazed by her exasperation, Meretta happily looked over Azrael’s shoulder.
“All right,” Azrael said as she analyzed the yellowed page. “The first section is about Divine Material, see?” Meretta hummed in acknowledgment. Azrael cleared her throat as she read out loud. “Divine Material is the byproduct of Windborn creation. It falls with the rain and lodges in rivers. It can be harvested like any land-born material. However, it can only be seen in its raw form by the Hallowed. And only when it comes into contact with a Hallowed being, will it shine in its true glory for all to see.”
Meretta bobbed her head on Azrael’s shoulder. “Well, that’s pretty interesting, don’t you think? I wonder how Hallowed are able to do that.”
“Well, from what I understand of the Hallowed, they essentially have Divine Material infused with their soul. If the material is actually a part of them, they should be able to recognize it in its raw form.”
“You’re so smart!” Meretta pressed her chin against Azrael’s collarbone. “Does it say how they change the Divine Material?”
Azrael was silent as she thought back to Gabriel’s conversation with Mita. “We know that Hallowed have the ability to actually meet the Divine on their plane of existence without dying, at least once in their lifetime. Maybe, when they touch the material, they’re linking the two planes of existence.”
Meretta gripped her hands onto Azrael’s shoulder. “You got all of that from this book?” she asked, with a high-pitched tone of amazement, reaching to grab at it.
Azrael shrugged her off. “Not completely. I just happen to listen when people talk.”
Meretta pinched her cheek with a giggle. “No need to get smart! C’mon, let’s see what else you can find. This is good.”
Once set on the quest to find answers, Azrael spent hours squinting at the tiny letters. The more she read, the more her eyes strained. But she couldn’t stop, not when she had the momentum of answers. Meretta was right. She was finally making progress.
Even so, Meretta finally grew bored and curled up next to Azrael like a little kitten. A smile forced itself onto Azrael’s lips at the sight. Azrael likewise was beyond the point of fatigue, and felt as if she could collapse any moment. But she knew she’d have a hard time sleeping with her eyes glowing like morning dawn.
Azrael read with heavy eyelids the accounts of the many Queens before her. Unfortunately, all of them seemed to have great difficulty utilizing the Divine Material in their bodies. And to her surprise, even Alexandria, the only Queen who’d ever Turned, didn’t access her gifts until she had completed her Acceptance.
But Alexandria didn’t have the Mark. The few who did had experienced a coma as Azrael had, but none seemed to have survived beyond that point. The texts listed the accounts as vague summaries, not listing what happened to the victims. Azrael wondered if her own experience would one day be listed as a short faded paragraph of failure.
The more she read, the more uncomfortable Azrael felt. The recovery time usually was one to two weeks, and the training progressed at a slow rate. She wanted to feel special that she was the first to experience such leaps in ability, but the looming knowledge of her possession made her feel like she was anything but special. Azrael remembered what Mita had said, that Mehmet had done something to her. Closing her eyes, she stared at the brightened red of the blood coursing through her eyelids. Her body trembled with rising uncertainty and dread.
Azrael closed the giant book and forced her eyes open. She wasn’t going to find all the answers tonight. She gently shook Meretta’s shoulders. “Meretta... Meretta hey, I’m going to bed.”
“All right.”
Changing into their sleeping robes with sloth-like speed, the girls curled up gratefully in the warm linens. Fortunately, the bed was quite large. Azrael wasn’t used to sleeping with someone next to her, but she appreciated the company. If she were being honest with herself, she was afraid to be alone.
Closing her eyes, Azrael attempted to fall asleep despite the Light. But the night was deep and sleep crested around the corner. The brightness dimmed as she slipped into the darkness unconsciousness brings.