by S. K Munt
Martya and I did not come to be friends, exactly, but she chose to sit in the vacant seat beside me instead of one down next to Emmerly, which formed a gap between the group of four and the group of two, so finally I was sitting with someone instead of without, and I was grateful to her for that. She never joined the others girl for lunch in the ballroom, but took her own picnic up to the tower to read with, and though she never invited me up there to join her either, she’d wait for me outside our classroom door and ask me how my lunch had gone and what I was reading now. Once or twice, I considered joining her or inviting her with me to the east wing to see Kohén but I always lost my nerve, not only because I was reluctant to splinter my tentative relationship with Kohén by bringing another girl into the mix and grossing him out, but because I was terrified that she would say no.
Terrified that I’d just met one more person who would never, ever see me as special.
*
Kelia arrived as the last of the snow was falling, and she was so beautiful that the other five girls froze her out as much as if they’d locked her outside- and even more harshly than they’d alienated me.
I stared at her when she first walked through the door, amazed that anyone so beautiful could be formed without a trace of Nephilim blood in their veins, just like I’d felt when I’d first laid eyes on the duchess. She had hair the colour of chestnuts, and it coiled naturally into springy little ringlets, which bounced with her every step. Her skin was as pale as mine, but her eyebrows, irises and lashes were dark and her cheeks and lips a rosy hue that I assumed was a flush from the cold at first but then learned was just her natural colouring. She looked incredibly pretty in the deep green dress that she wore to be Given in, but when she was put into a white frock like the rest of us, she ended up looking like one of Emmerly’s most detailed dolls. She had the faintest smattering of freckles across the bridge of her delicate nose, and because she was born at the very end of the year of eligibility (a week before Emmerly’s 6th) she was at least half a foot shorter than the rest of us and as slender as I- and so delightful to behold that I saw servants sneaking in to catch a glimpse of her, and cooing in adoration with one another when they left- even Lindy!
I watched Kelia’s parents depart through the window at the farthest end of the room while Maryah fussed over her, and when I saw the mother weeping so hard that her partner had to hold her up and propel her forward, my fists clenched in jealousy. Something told me that Kelia’s mother would write to her every day.
‘She’ll be the prince’s favourite for sure!’ one of the servants whispered and I’d felt another pang of jealousy at that. Was the prince supposed to choose a favourite from his company? And if he was, surely that would be me, wouldn’t it? After all, I played with him daily and hadn’t seen him even converse with any of the other girls yet! How cruel would it be of him to choose another girl after me, after he’d called me ‘friend’ -just because she was prettier?
I tried to calm myself down by reminding myself that if Prince Kohén wanted to keep beautiful company he would never have favoured me for six months, and yet I couldn’t look at Kelia without thinking that I’d trade every moment of Kohén’s company for one third of her beauty.
But much to my surprise, and despite how quickly he’d taken her in as a companion, Kohén seemed as oblivious to Kelia’s arrival as he had to that of every other girl since me, and when he went with his family to visit his twin brother on Caldera Island in the spring, I found myself with two weeks of lunches to pass without my usual companion and so, I sought out Kelia, whose lower lip had been wobbling almost constantly since she’d joined us. She beckoned me eagerly to her side the moment that I entered the ballroom at lunch and immediately asked where Martya and I had been spending our time. Apparently, she’d been following the other girls into the ballroom every day for three months, but had had to sit alone when they’d turned their backs to her, and because she’d noticed that Martya and I kept our distance from them also, she’d hoped that the three of us would come to be lunch mates and friends as well.
I was reluctant to tell her about my friendship with Kohén, because the word ‘favourite’ had been rattling around inside my head since Kelia’s first day, so I just said that I liked to find somewhere quiet to read usually, as did Martya.
Kelia couldn’t read at all, and though she was from the nobility and had impeccable manners, I’d noticed that she got in trouble for dawdling and fidgeting and neglecting her studies more than anybody else. When I asked how she was finding the transition, Kelia had immediately begun to cry. She said that she was so homesick that she couldn’t stand it, and I quickly worked out that instead of distancing herself from her daughter, like my mother had, Kelia’s own mother had tried to cram a lifetime’s worth of love into their five years together and now, Kelia was suffering for the loss of it.
She said that it was harder for her than the rest of us, given that she was so much younger, and the fact that she was five times as emotional than even me as well became quickly apparent for she cried herself to sleep every night, and loudly. Yes Kelia looked like a doll and the whispers that she would become the prince’s favourite continued, but she had been treated like a doll too, and I sensed that if she didn’t find a way to settle into her new life here, she would break quickly, and be relocated to somewhere where she would be kept too busy to have the time to dwell on her sorrow. I’d heard that they did that- traded out the Given girls who could not adjust if they failed to improve over time if the prince agreed, and because I could not see Kelia working as a servant, I endeavoured to put my jealousy aside and do whatever it was to make her feel more comfortable, and to stop her manicured fingernails becoming brittle from dishwater. Not because I especially liked her company, for she was rather whiny, but because I didn’t want to give Emmerly and co the satisfaction of being the ones to shatter the pretty doll.
I continued to eat lunch with Kelia every day during the prince’s absence, and though she continued to burst into tears at the drop of a dime, she also began to treat me as a friend and confidante until we had occasions to giggle as well. She was timid and easily shaken and emotionally fragile, but she had a pretty singing voice, a wicked sense of humour and gave me some tips on how to wear my hair in an equally secure but slightly more flattering way, by showing me how to braid it back from the nape of my neck and up, before twisting the lengths into a large plaited bun. To return her kindness, I tried to teach her to read but Kelia had no interest in doing so, so in the end, I just ended up reading to her a lot, which she enjoyed immensely. Every night before we went to bed, she would kiss my cheek, hug me tightly and call me her bestest friend, and though I wasn’t so sure that our friendship was as strong as she seemed to believe, I appreciated the gesture and returned her hug to the best of my ability. It was hard for me to show affection, but Kelia was too dulcet to catch my bitterness like the flu- it would surely kill her and so I cushioned her transition in every way that I could, whether that was with stiff hugs or by giving her my hot chocolate at supper- because she had a sweet tooth and was suffering on our strict diet, in which treats came slowly and rarely.
Yes Kelia and I became close, and when Kohén’s absence was extended from two weeks to two months, then to four, then six, the time passed more quickly than I had feared, and with my company and sometimes Martya’s, Kelia began to adjust to palace life and cry less. That made me feel good about myself and suddenly, I began to fear how things would change when Kohén returned at the end of fall. Would she expect to be included in my friendship with him? Did I want her to be? Would he want her to be? What if he came to prefer her, now that her disposition had brightened enough to rival my hair? Would he have forgotten our friendship now that we had been apart for almost as long as we had been together to start with?
But then Kohén returned from Pacifica with a gift for me- a birthday gift- not just from him, but his brother Kohl too, for Kohl had been the one to unearth the relic of a thing from a burie
d library, and as soon as I’d read the first page of the book, I understood two things: grown up stories were way better than children’s ones, and that it would take me an eternity to finish Gone With The Wind.
But that was okay with me. I wanted an eternity with it.
The Creation Story
Book II of VI
This text is not to be edited, altered, summarised or translated into any language. Offenders who attempt to will be charged with treason against Calliel and put to death.
As time passed, it became clear that the strongest of all the Souls, both in character and in power was Miguel, the Soul Mate who had left Eden first. Not only was he popular, respected by his men, and powerful enough to turn into an animal in order to lure larger kill nearer to their hunting grounds, but his many Nephilim sons grew in his likeness and created tribes of their own, proving themselves to be beings of worth, who used their powers to heal and communicate with the earth around them. They drained quickly and were rendered mortal by mid-life, but that was all right because their people needed little but the land to survive.
Miguel’s people worshipped him and deservedly so for he was wise, fair, warm and affectionate. But adoration can be an intoxicating substance when taken in many large doses, so although Miguel tried his hardest to pick a woman amongst them all who could hold his attention as Satan had without her beauty and purity of soul, he could not and so he decided that if he could not do as God had suggested, then he would at least keep his promise to Satan, and make her his only lover- and soon-to put an end to all of the conflict over him.
But on the night that Miguel went to seek Satan out, a beautiful fair-headed human woman appeared at his door, seeking shelter. She was wet from the rain and asked if she could come into his hut to dry off by the fire, and Miguel said yes because she was pretty and shivering. Her name was Neveah and as she sat by his hearth and rid herself of her wet clothing while talking about how she had fled an over-excited lover from her own tribe, Miguel realised that she was not sweet like Satan, but saucy and mischievous, and knowing that she would not be the type to get hurt if he took her only the one time, Miguel’s passions stirred and soon enough, they were doing what he was convinced that he had been born to do and nine months later, a child was born from Neveah’s womb to him.
Miguel still loved Satan and was guilt-ridden for having weakened so easily, but having a daughter changed him drastically, and made him see just how fragile a woman’s spirit could be. His sons were all strong, handsome and powerful, but his daughter was lovely, delicate and mortal and he was so grateful to her wild, reckless and mortal mother, Neveah, for bearing him a female child at last that he vowed to breed only with her forevermore, hoping that God would bless their union and life together with more perfect little angels just like her for having chosen someone who was less than divine. He announced this to his people and swore that from then on, he would turn away from every temptation and be as good as an example for his daughter, as God had been for him.
*
Satan was grieved beyond measure to learn of Miguel’s intentions to marry the rambunctious Neveah, and in a desperate attempt to persuade Miguel to change his mind by catching his eye before his vows were spoken, she dressed in her most revealing attire and bedecked herself in precious stones for the ceremony- outshining the bride. But, alas, Miguel kept his eyes on his infant daughter’s face the entire time and did not look Satan’s way once, and after he’d sworn to share his hut and everything with Neveah forevermore in God’s name, Satan was overcome with so much desolation that she felt her internal fire charring her fingertips. To prevent herself from hurting herself or someone else, and knowing that she’d brought this new shame upon herself by trying to take another woman’s man, she went down to the beach to cry out her pain during the feast after, wondering why she wasn’t enough for the man who was the universe to her, and wishing that God would appear and offer her guidance before she did something else to cause herself pain, grief or humiliation.
But unfortunately for her, she hadn’t been the only person on that beach- just the only woman. Some drunken tribesmen from Miguel’s wedding spotted her leaving and followed her down; calling out that a woman so beautiful ought not be alone and untouched. That chalky skin against the moonlight- that cap of jet black hair and eyes bluer than the most precious of gems hanging around her ankles and wrists- she had overwhelmed them with their beauty and so they grabbed her before she could completely unfurl her wings and tore some of her feathers out in clumps. Satan had screamed and fought them off, but the celebrations from Miguel’s wedding had been too loud for anybody to hear her cries for help. She tried to use her powers against them, for she had the ability to produce fire from nothingness, but they’d bound their hands and stuffed poison berries into her mouth until the venom paralysed her enough so that they could take turns ravaging her.
The men had returned to the party after they’d left her bleeding and unconscious in the frosty shallows of the ocean with a few blood-streaked feathers floating about her, and had bragged about the beautiful native girl they’d just been invited to lay with, and everyone believed that Satan had volunteered herself for the lewd acts, because they knew that she was nursing a broken heart, and had probably gone with so many men to make Miguel jealous. After all, she’d dressed to get attention, and that was precisely what she had gotten so who was she to cry foul? From then on, Satan was shunned by everyone but Miguel, although he was too busy with his new child to act as an actual friend or even ask her what had happened.
Six months later she gave birth to a son whose father she would never be able to recognize, and though she tried to forget how he had come to pass out of love for the child- she’d never been able to block it from her memory. Not only had she been emotionally ruined by the events, but also her body had been ripped and broken, and her wings so ruined by the attacks that she could not even fly away after. Because of this, her son Hell came months too early and in great distress.
Hell would also be the only child that Satan would ever be able to bear. Not that it mattered, for no one wanted to touch the woman who was now considered dirty, and Satan started hiding her beauty behind scarves and clay paint so that no man would ever think to touch her again anyway, let alone make loving promises with lying lips.
*
The people in the Barachiel tribe had been formed into a race by the climate, but Miguel’s little girl was as fair and golden as God himself had been in human form, and as the years passed by it became quite clear that her soul was unflawed as God’s had been as well. Miguel named her ‘Heaven’ after her mother, though she was nothing like the woman, and the family lived together for many years in the area that he had claimed centuries before, which he had named Barachiel. Barachiel hugged the shore of a great ocean under the shade of fir trees where it was always warm, just like in Eden and though the area around them was quite barren, and Miguel a master of manipulating all of the elements, he saved his powers for the sole purpose of making it rain when the land cracked, which kept their hunting grounds bountiful and his wings strong.
Heaven was a sweet little girl who ought to have been adored by all, but she was too beautiful for her own good, so the other little boys began to fight over the right to touch her golden hair and the other girls began to resent her accordingly- especially the Nephilim children who thought that they ought to be more beautiful than this mortal girl. Sometimes her hair would be pulled and other times, mortal men would see her and be filled with lust and try to carry her off into the night, but never did Heaven know a day in which conflict did not arise concerning her, just as it once had over her father. The only boy in fact, who did not cause her distress was her best friend, Hell.
Despite all of the trauma that she had endured, Satan continued to love her sweet-tempered son and God, and knew that he had to be watching over her and would find a way to intercept her life and heal her when he was able to. She even tried to hope for something to happen between Heav
en and Hell when it was clear that they’d grown fond of each other, but everything went horribly wrong on Heaven’s sixteenth birthday, when a mortal boy tried to take Heaven off to the bushes and have his way with her. Hell- knowing what his mother had been through in a similar circumstance- intervened to protect his love, but to everybody’s horror, Hell turned his back on his rival to check on Heaven’s well-being, and the mortal boy saw his opportunity and ran Hell through with a spear. Chaos followed his death, and Heaven wept as though her heart had been the one pierced, but instead of blaming the aggressive mortal for the altercation, fingers were all pointed at Heaven instead. Scared mothers of sons demanded that Miguel stop shielding her from the world and allow her to be shared before their society was ripped apart by unrequited lust- or banish her from Barachiel so that she could become someone else’s problem.
Scared and unwilling to banish his daughter from their tribe or leave Barachiel himself, Miguel decided to fly back to Eden and call out to God, believing that if he thought hard enough and concentrated all of his love, that God would hear him. He wanted to ask their creator to give his child powers to protect herself with, or even wings like his to fly away from danger, for she was more in need of protection than anybody. God heard him but worried that granting Heaven yet another blessing would be unfair and cause even more jealousy- and that he was relieved that there were less and less Nephilim about now, because their gifts were no longer essential to survival and it was distressing the mortals and evoking envy. But he said that he’d return with Miguel, and caution everybody to be kind to the little girl, knowing they would listen to him, for they loved him.
