“Hey, Angel,” he said, just loud enough for her to hear.
“Screw you,” she returned. But she was almost smiling, which was always a good sign for her. “Decided to join me in the real world?”
He came to sit on the swing beside her, eyes cutting sideways. “We’re sitting on a giant swing set on the back of a marble ship. Yesterday, we got lost in a checkerboard maze filled with red rose petals. This hardly seems like the real world.”
Aurora frowned. “Reality is all I have,” she said after a moment. “I used to be obsessed with magic and fairytales. Then I realized it was all a bunch of crap—too good to be true. Angels are just a nice idea, magic belongs in storybooks, and true love doesn’t exist. I can’t afford to believe in things I can’t see or touch.”
“Who took all that away from you?” Gray asked.
Aurora’s eyes flashed at him. “What do you mean…?”
“You said you used to be obsessed with magic and fairytales. I’m assuming someone made you change your mind.”
“Do you think it’s a coincidence that the word assume begins with ass? Cause, I don’t,” Aurora stated, thoroughly and efficiently sidestepping his assumption. “Please tell me you don’t believe any of this.”
Gray went quiet, looking out at the still black water and star-strewn sky. Crystal glaciers towered in the distance, glittering like icy skyscrapers in the moonlight. With a backdrop like this, it was hard to deny what Samuel told them was at least within the realm of possibility. And Gray had been extremely suspicious since boarding Etheria, if not before that.
“Remember how I said that, after the second tower collapsed the day my uncle died, I saw all of those colorful orbs in the air?” he said. “And that my lungs were completely clear of ash? Everyone else was choking up the stuff. Some have developed all sorts of medical problems since then too. But I was completely fine.”
“What, so, because you saw colorful orbs and you happened not to inhale ash and contract a multitude of medical problems, that means you must be a half-angel?” Aurora fixed him with a gaze that made him feel like he should be second-guessing himself.
“No… It means I could be.”
She laughed humorlessly. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re sad.”
Mouth open and eyes wide, Aurora swiveled around to look at him. “Excuse me?”
“I think it’s sad that you’ve shut your mind off to good things so effectively that, even when the most magical, incredibly indescribable things happen, you write them off as coincidence or chance. Not everything is a coincidence, Aurora. Not everything is black and white and tangible. I don’t know about angels and God and heaven, but I know miracles happen. Trust me, I’ve seen it—a hundred times over.”
He wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it, but Aurora looked almost wounded by this. That wasn’t his intention, but it was sort of nice to see that she felt more than just anger and annoyance towards him. “Well, that’s great for you, Grayson,” she said. “But miracles don’t happen to me.”
“Oh, no? What about your adoptive brother? Danny is his name, right? You don’t think the fact that your mom saved his life could be considered a miracle?”
Aurora’s jaw clenched. “It was a good thing my mom did for him. And, yes, his life has been turned around because of her, but that’s because of her actions. Not some miracle.”
“So, tell me, oh wise one,” Gray said, provoking Aurora’s trademarked eye-roll. “How do you explain everything that’s happened the past few days? How do you account for this massive ship and all the people here who just happen to know our names? How do you make sense of the so-called ‘coincidence’ of all five of the people at our table having never known their fathers? Or the fact that two people in Juneau couldn’t see the massive ship in the port that was plainly visible to us? What, are they all in on some joke or reality TV show? Down to the cloaked crazies who stole our luggage before disappearing into the shadows? Still think it’s all just happenstance?”
Aurora pursed her lips and looked straight ahead. “Believe it or not, I don’t have all the answers.”
“You sure act like you do.”
“Why are you being such an ass?” she snapped fixing him with narrowed eyes.
“Maybe I’m feeling a little freaked out right now, and I’d like my only friend on this ship to stop being unnecessarily guarded and empathize with me a little bit,” Gray said.
“Just because I don’t think we’re Halos doesn’t mean I’m not freaked out. I recognize something weird is going on. Pardon me for not immediately jumping on the angel train," she retorted. "And we aren’t friends.”
“Shut up, Aurora.” Gray pushed her swing sideways. “Yes, we are.”
He glanced at his watch, dragged his feet on the ground until he finally stood.
Aurora glanced up at him. “Where are you going?”
“It’s 9:45.”
“That’s not a location.”
“I’m going to Starlight Stadium to see what the Powers have to say.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. You coming?”
Aurora’s swing moved back and forth several more times before she kicked her legs out and flew off of the seat, landing impressively upright a few feet in front of him—high heels and all.
“Fine. But they’d better not make us drink any Kool-Aid.”
Twenty
AURORA
Starlight Stadium was located on the topmost floor in the center of the ship. Aurora had never been much of a sports fan, but she knew most stadiums consisted of a large, usually rectangular, field in the center, surrounded by a sea of uncomfortable, plastic seats.
Starlight Stadium was different.
The seats here were a padded suede material with plenty of room. The center had no turf of any sort, but rather, a raised, marble platform—presently vacant. A cheerful Anther seated Aurora and Gray in section forty-seven C, where they found Brielle, Chord, and Sevastion sitting in stiff silence. The three of them wore varying expressions. Brielle was bright-eyed and antsy, sitting on the edge of her seat and craning her neck to look at the marble platform. Sevastion was studying the surroundings—as he always did—but with an increasing sense of purpose and concentration now, as if trying to figure out a mind-bogglingly complex equation. Chord looked completely torn and confused and like he needed a drink.
The three of them were so wrapped up in their thoughts that they didn’t even acknowledge Aurora and Gray’s appearance, or vice versa. Aurora settled in next to Chord, and Gray sat on her other side.
The stadium had almost filled now. It was simultaneously impressive and shocking to see the plethora of people Etheria held. Aurora spoke her thoughts aloud, “I wonder how many people can fit in here.”
“About 16,000,” Sev answered with certainty.
Chord snorted. “Is that a guess, or…?”
“No. It’s a calculation,” Sev said, “a correct calculation.”
“M’kay, Rainman,” Chord said, exchanging an amused glance with Aurora.
“Pardon?” said Sev.
Chord opened his mouth to answer when an unearthly chorus of trumpets, harps, and voices sounded from all around. The sky erupted in a rainbow of colors. The shimmering, swell of lights moved, like wind-blown, multicolored sand on spotted, black pavement.
“Isn’t that—” Gray began.
“Aurora Borealis,” interrupted Aurora. “The Northern Lights.”
She knew all about the Northern Lights, having done a research project over them in high school. It felt surreal to witness them in person. She’d watched countless videos of them online and looked at pictures in books. None of those could’ve prepared her for seeing them now.
Movement below registered in her periphery, and Aurora reluctantly pulled her gaze away from the sky to the center of the stadium. Pillars of varying heights arose from the marble platform now, upon which, stood solitary figures dressed in all white. Michael stoo
d on the tallest pillar, hands clasped before him.
With no noticeable electronic amplification, he spoke loud enough to fill the open space. “Welcome, Halos. I imagine you are all experiencing some conflicting feelings at the moment—confusion, fear, anger, frustration, disbelief, happiness, relief, wonder, doubt. All of these are justified feelings. Before I continue, let me further convince you of our statements and cement the words your leader spoke to you earlier—though, words can only go so far. Allow me to show you.”
With a jolt, Aurora’s vision blacked out. Then, suddenly, she was no longer on Etheria. She stood in a room where a much younger version of her mother sat beside an ethereal looking man with blond hair and dark blue eyes which mirrored her own.
“So, I won’t remember any of this?” her mother said with wide eyes.
The man nodded, taking her hand. “You will remember, but you won’t remember this.”
“You’re going to implant a false memory in my mind, aren’t you?” said her mother.
“More or less.”
“Okay,” her mother said with a conviction Aurora had never heard before.
Then, the mental “movie” flashed back to the day Aurora was born. Her mother was there, holding her and rocking her and smiling in awe at the small bundle of pink blankets. In the room stood a crowd of people, talking and laughing and smiling as widely as her mother. Aurora recognized several of them: Michael, Anther, Juniper…Samuel.
A montage of events from her life—good and bad—when she had thought she’d been alone flashed by like film. But she hadn’t been alone. They were all there. They had always been there, standing beside her, behind her, and sometimes even holding her up. Suddenly, the darkest times in her life didn’t seem so dark from this vantage point. As the visions fizzled out of her mind, her eyes refocused on the stadium. She realized tears had poured down her cheeks before hastily wiping them away.
“I hope these memories have shown you we speak the truth,” Michael said then. “Now to further explain your purpose and, more importantly, your choice. We are Powers,” he said, spreading his arms out to indicate himself and the others standing on the raised pillars, which Aurora saw included Samuel, who she had much different feelings towards now.
“We’ve had an easy time of things, as of late, because Lucifer is weakening and his demons are too. But, when Caducus falls, Earth and all its inhabitants will go through a period of turmoil. Our duty is to fight all followers of Caducus and, ultimately remove him from Earth.”
Another image flashed before Aurora’s eyes—a horde of the most terrifying looking creatures she’d ever seen…massive, insectile monsters, and humanoids with mouths full of sharpened teeth. Demons, she thought. The image showed them crawling along the land while an army of Halos charged with swords, bows and arrows, knives, and other instruments which she didn’t recognize.
Admittedly, the Halos seemed a dangerous, powerful force. Then, a Halo entered the frame in Aurora's mind. Golden hair flowing out behind her, blue eyes flashing, arm raising with a weapon in hand. The Halo was her. Then the vision faded and Michael continued speaking.
“Many of you will perish, but in completing this task, you will be offered the great honor of becoming a Power Guardian, an angel who protects the souls of Earth. As I said, you do have a choice in this. Those who do not wish to continue may be allowed to leave Etheria once we dock tomorrow evening in Victoria, Canada. If you choose to leave, you’ll have no recollection of this event. And, for the remaining Halos, we will begin training you before we arrive at Arx Isle—the Earthly domain of the Power Halos. You have twenty-four hours to reach a decision. We thank you for your attendance and empathize with you. Feel free to come forth with any questions. May the Light be with you.”
The Powers disappeared from the pillars and the thousands of Halos remained to process everything which had just transpired. Aurora and the others from her table remained seated, thunderstruck in their seats as the stadium slowly emptied. Gray was the first to stand.
“I’m going to go…think,” he muttered in a distant voice, walking briskly out of the stadium.
One by one, Sev, Chord, and a sobbing Brielle left until Aurora was one amongst a handful of others in the massive stadium built to hold 16,000 Halos.
Standing on unsteady legs, Aurora moved like a ghost down the stairs, and onto the top deck, where the carnival images seemed bizarre and out of place now. She walked until she was away from the crowd of people still milling around the entrance of the stadium, her emotions building up, like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
Then she ran.
Past the chocolate fountain, past the Ferris wheel and the carousel, past the swings at the back of the ship where Gray had found her last night. The night when her greatest problem was keeping her feelings for him at bay.
Chest heaving, Aurora reached the end of the ship, slamming into the curved rail. Her hands shook as she clasped the silver railing and looked out at the black, star-scattered sky—the Northern Lights having long since dissipated. Gazing into the darkness, it was difficult for Aurora to believe there was actually a God out there somewhere. At that moment, everything looked empty and dark. But she didn’t know what else to do, so she cleared her throat and spoke to the void.
“God…?” Her voice sounded much louder in the silence than she had expected. “If you’re out there—well, I guess you have to be, huh? How else would angels exist? Or Halos, or…whatever I am.”
She stopped speaking a moment, listening for some sort of acknowledgment that someone out there had heard her; a sign that she wasn’t just talking to herself like an idiot.
Silence.
“I need your help,” she continued in a wavering voice. “And if you know me, which I guess you do, you know I don’t ask anyone for help. Ever. But I don’t know what else to do. So much weighs on my decision. If I choose to become a Halo, then I have to leave my mom and brother all alone,” her voice cracked on the last word. “But if I choose to return home, and if the others fail, I'll never forgive myself. For allowing that to happen. For allowing the world to fall through my fingers. What would life be like then? Would life even be worth living? What would happen to my mom? To Daniel? My mom would want me to fight. I know she would. Right…?”
She waited, hoping for an answer. For anything.
“Aren’t you supposed to tell me what to do?” she asked the air, heatedly. “That’s what you did in the Bible, right? You talked to people. They could hear you. Why can’t I hear you?” she whispered.
“It’s not about hearing,” a familiar voice said from behind her. Aurora’s breath caught, and she turned to see Samuel watching her from atop the wooden swing set. “Not with your ears, at least.” He jumped down lightly.
Aurora resisted the urge to yell at him for spying on her. He was an angel, after all.
“What’s it about, then?”
“Your soul. You know, people these days have so many distractions. So much noise. They are constantly seeking entertainment and immediate satisfaction. Everything becomes so loud that their soul is unable to hear properly.”
“What do you mean? Your soul can hear?”
“It’s difficult to explain,” Samuel paused. “It’s not hearing as you do with your ears. It is more of a feeling. It feels what the Light is telling you. But you have to be quiet long enough to receive the message.”
“So you’re saying, if I’m quiet long enough, I’ll feel God tell me what I’m supposed to do?”
“You already know what you’re meant to do, Aurora Coel. You’re simply fighting it. Your mind stands in your way, and your stubbornness. But deep in your soul…you know what to do.”
“And if I fail?” she said, barely louder than a whisper. “What if I di—” she couldn’t bring herself to say the word. “I mean, what if I don’t come back? What about my mom and brother?”
“Death is not failure. It is merely the beginning. Some think everything is over once they die. Th
at living only exists during life. They believe that after you die, all you do is sit around the Light’s throne singing His praises. But there are more ways to honor the Light than simply singing at His throne. We told you of the Guardians—a coveted position. If you choose to fight with the other Halos, you will earn your spot as a Guardian.”
“After I die,” Aurora stated.
“Yes. And you will no longer have the burden of caring for a human body. You will always be healthy, always be at peace, always able to help people. And if you so choose, you may be the Guardian of your mother and your brother. So you'll never leave them. Not really.”
“I could choose to be their Guardian?” Aurora said after a long pause.
Samuel nodded. “Yes. But not just theirs, anyone who you love. Guardians are not bound to only one human. This is if you die in battle, of course. Who knows, you could live through to the end.”
Aurora bit her lip. She didn’t feel strong or powerful enough to battle thousands of demons or Caducus—the fallen angel everyone claimed was worse than Lucifer. She wondered what the others at her table would decide to do. She was sure Brielle would love the honor of being God’s chosen one and would jump at the chance. Sev and Chord were question marks. Of course Gray would. He was a natural-born hero and had nothing to lose. There was something else left for consideration… If Aurora said no, she would have her memory wiped of this entire experience—an experience which included Gray.
“Okay,” Aurora said then.
“Okay?”
“I’ll be a Halo. I’ll fight Caducus.”
A small smile spread across Samuel’s face. “I had no doubt you would, Aurora Coel.”
Twenty-One
Etheria (The Halo Series Book 1) Page 12
