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,” Azrae
l 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.
Fallen to Grace (Celestial Downfall Book 1) Page 14
