The Chronicles of Fire and Ice (The Legend of the Archangel Book 1)

by L. L Hunter

  “Now with the exception of Emerald and Joshua,” began Professor Mag, her gaze steel cold as it bore into the two of them, “everyone completed the task exceptionally. Do we all feel confident with our classmates yet?”

  There were numerous students who said yes, while just a few said no, followed by laughing, Scarlett and the rest of her classmates turned to see who it was. Samson Hunt and Willow Johnson sat a few rows behind the rest of the class. They were becoming known as troublemakers already. Earlier, during lunch, they had gotten a penalty each—one for Samson throwing food at Headmaster Blackbell’s head, and Willow had gotten one for turning up to lunch late.

  “Samson, Willow, you two are not off to a good start. Do you take anything seriously around here?” asked Mag.

  “Of course we do, Professor,” answered Willow with a smirk.

  “Consider this a warning. One more strike and another penalty will be added to both your records.”

  There was a sudden very loud tolling that made the students jump, but Scarlett knew what it was. It was church bells.

  “Okay, that’s the end of class. See you tomorrow, and don’t be late!” As she emphasised on the late part, she spun on her heel and exited stage right. The sound of her Mary Jane’s clicking could still be heard long after she had left the auditorium.

  “Well, that was exciting, wasn’t it?” sang Emer as she skipped beside Scarlett. “Even though Joshua dropped me!” She glared back at Joshua who was walking behind them looking down at his feet.

  “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

  “Yeah, ‘cause he was day dreaming. Hey, what class have you got next? I have Aerial Ability, whatever that means.”

  “I think its flying. I have Combat Training.”

  “Why in the heck would I need flying lessons? I’m not a full angel,” complained Emer.

  “I think it’s just to get you comfortable with being in the air. I walked past that room before and I saw people on harnesses bouncing around.”

  “Cool! Well, I’ll see you at dinner,” said Emer as she drew back to walk beside Joshua.

  Scarlett checked her schedule again for the room number and realised she was in the padded gym room she had previously been in. As she began walking back, her stomach flipped when she realised who her Professor might be.

  “Crap,” she cursed to herself. She clenched her jaw, took a deep breath, and stepped back inside the padded room. Sure enough, there he stood in the centre of the room.

  “Gather round, First Year. I’m Professor Lakyn, but please, call me Lakyn.” She could hear whispers around the room, girls swooning over their handsome Professor. Scarlett rolled her eyes.

  “This afternoon, I will be teaching you the basics of Combat Training. That is, learning how to defend oneself in an attack,” he told the class. Thomas raised his hand.

  “Yes? Name?” asked Lakyn

  “Thomas. And um, will we be fighting each other?”

  “Not fighting, sparing. No hands-on contact allowed. Okay? Any student who breaks that the rule will be given an automatic penalty. I cannot make myself any clearer.”

  Then Jacob stepped forward, Scarlett didn’t even notice he was in the room. He wore a close fitted white shirt that made his muscles more pronounced. She caught Kat staring at him.

  “Okay, guys, everyone form a line from tallest to shortest along the wall, go!” He clapped his hands to hurry the students up. Scarlett considered herself of average height so she placed herself somewhere in the middle next to Kat, who was still watching Jacob.

  Jacob and Lakyn walked along the line and swapped students who were taller or shorter than the person next to them. Jacob reached Kat and she froze. He placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled warmly.

  “There’s no need to be nervous, Kat,” he told her. Scarlett swore that if she hadn’t been standing right there next to Kat, she would have fainted. Lakyn passed and nodded towards her and Scarlett.

  “You two, pair up,” he told them, his eyes pausing on Scarlett the longest.

  “Now that everyone has their sparring partners, Jacob here is going to run you through the basics. Even though he is only a Fourth Year student, he is the best we have, apart from my father and I,” explained Lakyn.

  “Thank you, Lakyn,” said Jacob. “Okay, everyone face his or her partner. I will be walking around and giving each of you a weapon. Do not use these on your partner. I am going to show you how to hold them so that they feel comfortable in your hands. An Angel’s weapon is a part of him or her.”

  Lakyn walked to the edge of the room and paused by a large wooden box, almost as big as an adult coffin. Jacob joined him and together, they lifted the box with ease into the centre of the room and opened the lid. Inside were many gold and silver bows and a few swords that, from what Scarlett remembered from The Chronicle, were Archangel blades, and they were a very powerful weapon. There was a collection of oohs and aahs from the class as the weapons were brought out and handed around.

  “Now, does anyone know the difference between the gold and silver bows?” asked Lakyn. Scarlett knew, but she didn’t want to seem like a no-it-all, and worst of all, have anyone suspect she was a Legacy. Thankfully, Kat raised her hand.

  “Yes, Katherine?”

  “It’s Kat, actually. And the difference between them is that the gold bow can kill an Archangel or Nephilim, but can’t kill a Fallen Angel. And a silver bow can kill a Fallen Angel but can’t kill a Nephilim or an Archangel.”

  “Correct, I’m impressed. You must have studied the Chronicle before you enrolled here,” stated Jacob, smiling at her.

  “A little, actually. I have a pretty good memory,” she blushed.

  “As Kat said, yes the gold bow kills Archangels and Nephilim and the silver kills Fallen Angels, etcetera. But what The Chronicle doesn’t say is that you can only load a special type of arrow into the bow,” Lakyn explained.

  “What are they?” asked Thomas. Scarlett could tell just by Thomas’ energy that he couldn’t wait to start practising. The boy was practically bursting out of his skin.

  “These.” What Lakyn held in his hand looked like small pieces of gunmetal. He held them up high so that everyone could see. “These might look like normal arrow heads to you, but they are not ordinary. They are what we call Tear Tips, because they have been dipped in the tears of an Archangel.”

  Excited chatter and whispering ensued. Scarlett raised her hand and Lakyn locked eyes with her. She repressed the urge to turn away.

  “Are they hard to come by, the Archangel tears?” she asked

  “Not really, if you know where to source them.”

  “Do Archangel’s still exist?” she asked. Lakyn shifted his weight and became restless. Scarlett could tell that she had picked a sore subject.

  “That is not something I can tell you,” he told her. He averted his gaze and picked up an Archangel blade. “Everyone, grab a weapon.”

  After class, Scarlett decided to do a little research. What Lakyn had said, or not said, had intrigued her. Did Archangels really still exist? And if so, were they anyone she knew?

  She headed to the library, which was not hard to find. It was the largest part of Blackbell Academy. Scarlett pushed open the heavy oak doors and was amazed by the sight that confronted her. Everywhere, there were books as far as the eye could see. The room was circular in shape and consisted of three levels, each joined the next by a wooden ladder. But that wasn’t the most amazing part—the centrepiece was a ginormous maple tree. It reached from the floor to the ceiling. Scarlett’s eyes followed the trunk up, and she realised that this was the room that the glass-faceted dome covered, and the ancient maple tree just brushed the underside of it. She was so wonderstruck by the sight of the tree that she hadn’t realised she was no longer alone.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” He spoke warmly into her left ear, causing Scarlett to almost jump out of her skin. She spun around to face the intruder of her private moment, waiting for an attack, which didn�
��t come. He put his hands over hers and pushed them back down to her sides.

  “I don’t mean you harm. I’m sorry I frightened you.”

  “I would’ve hit you.”

  “I know,” he chuckled

  “Don’t ever sneak up on me like that again!”

  “I promise.” He smiled and walked over to the second floor’s banister and jumped up, sitting down and dangling his legs over the side. There was little she knew about Dyston, but she was intrigued. She climbed the ladder to the second floor landing and stood behind him. He still smelled of rain and vanilla.

  “So… you sing,” she said. It wasn’t a question, but she didn’t know what else to say.

  “You heard me,” Dyston laughed. His laugh was as smooth and musical as his voice.

  “I didn’t mean to. I was walking past. It was beautiful, by the way, the song,” she told him. He half turned to face her.

  “I wrote it, but it’s not that good. It’s not finished.”

  “I would love to hear it when it is,” she told him. Her eyes met his, and she immediately forgot why she had come.

  “I hear you caused a bit of a stir in my brother’s class today,” he said, breaking the connection. Scarlett turned away, blushing.

  “I did?”

  “Someone needs to challenge my brother once in a while,” he chuckled.

  “What did he say about me?”

  “He just said that you were asking about Archangels.”

  “Yeah, I was curious. He said the arrow heads are dipped in Archangel’s tears. Why is that such a controversy?”

  “It’s not. It’s just something we’re not allowed to discuss with lower class men or students.”

  “Why not?” She moved closer to him, her abdomen grazing his leg, he inhaled.

  “Because if anyone found out how we get the Tear Tips, there would be a war.”

  Chapter Four

  Legend

  Scarlett checked her watch, it showed 5.30 p.m. She had half an hour before dinner, just enough time to get information about Archangels. And with Dyston staring at her like she was a specimen under a microscope, the task was very hard indeed.

  She climbed the ladder to the third floor landing, where Dyston had pointed out the area in which to find the most likely source of Archangel information.

  “How do the professors handle doing this every day? I’ll end up having to shower before dinner,” Scarlett puffed as she climbed.

  “They have their ways,” said Dyston, watching her from his post on the second floor banister.

  “You know you could get up here and help me. It would make this a heck of a lot faster.”

  “Certainly,” he said, reaching down to pull her up. She hesitated before taking his hand.

  “How…” Scarlett was confused. She gazed up at him and back to where he had been sitting a few seconds ago, several stories below. All he did was smile, which did crazy things to her stomach.

  “All you had to do was ask,” he said, pulling her towards him so that their bodies were touching. A shot of electricity surged up through her body and ignited her. She felt Dyston put his arms around her, and she couldn’t breathe. And then she heard the sizzle.

  “What’s going on?” She quickly jumped away from him.

  “You were on fire,” he chuckled.

  “I what?”

  “That’s never happened to you before?”

  “Uh… no.” She lied. In fact, it had happened to her before in high school.

  “It’s very rare for your Trait to come out now. They usually begin to appear during the Second Year.”

  “So… you think this is my Trait?”

  “Yes, I do. I could sense it on you when we bumped into each other in the hall earlier.”

  “You could sense it?”

  “Yeah. There are some things that you’ve yet to learn about becoming a full-fledged Angel. Such as, Angels have more than five senses and have the ability to place dreams into people’s heads.”

  Dreams into people’s heads.

  Now it all made sense.

  “It’s you who’s been giving me the dreams every night,” she gasped.

  “Yes.”

  “Why me?”

  “Look, I can’t tell you now, not here,” he told her in a hushed voice. “After dinner, go straight to your room. I’ll come to you.” He brushed a stray hair away from her face.

  “Okay,” she replied. As she began to turn to climb back down the ladder, Dyston’s hand stopped her and pulled her back into an embrace.

  “Be careful, Scarlett,” he whispered, and the church bells tolled. They were so loud this time that Scarlett had to cover her ears. They must be closer to the bell tower, she thought, as she gazed up at the glass dome.

  “How do you…” She turned to face him again, but he was gone.

  That night’s dinner was Chicken Korma, which didn’t help the fact that she was already burning up inside due to her fire Trait and from her encounter with Dyston. As she ate, she scanned the room for him, but he wasn’t seated at his usual table next to Jacob. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She then realised that Emer had been trying to talk to her.

  “Huh?”

  “I said, where have you been? I came by your room earlier to see if you wanted to hang out with Del and me. We were doing each other’s hair,” said Emer, turning her face from side to side as if to show off their work.

  “Sorry, I was, um… in the library doing research.”

  “Uh, huh, research, got ya,” Del said with a wink.

  “I really was.” Scarlett’s cheeks flushed, and she felt like she was blazing up again.

  “Aww, she’s blushing,” teased Thomas.

  “Leave her alone, guys. If she likes someone, good for her,” Kat said in defence.

  “Thanks, Kat.” She smiled at her friend and then looked back down at her Korma. How could they know about her and Dyston? Nothing had happened between them yet—not really.

  Scarlett opened her door and stepped in. The room felt cold, and she realised that the French doors were open. As she hurried to shut them, she noticed a figure sitting on her bed. She would have screamed if it hadn’t been for Dyston moving to stand beside her.

  “Sorry, I promised I wouldn’t sneak up on you.”

  “That’s okay. You just have this silence about you that’s… frightening. You’re like the calm before the storm.”

  “Is that how you see me?” he asked, moving in front of her.

  “What? Don’t you like that description?”

  “No, I like it just fine, I love it in fact.” That was when she noticed he was holding her black feather.

  “My feather.”

  “No, in fact, it’s my feather.” Before she could reply, he took her hand in his. “Let me show you something.” He led her out into the night air.

  “It’s freezing out here, Dyston.”

  “Not with your Trait it’s not.” He stood at the railing and faced her. “Breathe in and think heat.”

  Scarlett followed his instructions. She breathed in and thought, I’m warm. I’m not cold.

  “It’s working.”

  “Good. It’s rare for a First Year student to do even that.”

  “Why is it so rare?” she asked. Dyston looked around, not that anyone was watching, and stepped closer to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and met her gaze.

  “There’s a legend that an Archangel came to earth and fathered a child,” he told her reluctantly. Her eyes widened.

  “A real Archangel?” she gasped. He nodded. “Is it in The Chronicle? Because I don’t remember reading about it.”

  “No, it’s not. It happened after The Chronicle was written.”

  “How do you know about it then? Since it’s not in The Chronicle.”

  “Because it’s my job to find her.”

  “Find her?”

  “Yes. Listen, it’s very dangerous, no one can know.”

  “Know about the Archa
ngel baby?”

  “No. Know that you’re the Legend.”

  Zachariah Blackbell sat at his expensive oak desk, writing in a ledger with a large white quill. Suddenly, there came a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” he said in a deep authoritarian voice. The door opened and his son stepped in.

  “Father, we have a situation.”

  “What is it, Lakyn?” Zachariah didn’t look up from his writing.

  “There’s something… different about our new student, Scarlett Porter.”

  “What do you mean, son? I’m not wasting my time with another one of your fantasies.”

  “This isn’t a fantasy. What do we know about her?” he asked, putting his hands on his father’s desk. Zachariah sighed. Then he stood up and went to the filing cabinet where all his student files were kept. He pulled out Scarlett’s file and read.

  “Scarlett Porter, aged twenty-one. It says that there was a fire that killed her mother shortly after she was born. Her father is unknown.”

  “She could be the child of the Archangel,” Lakyn suggested.

  “It’s possible, but there isn’t enough proof. Wasn’t Dyston meant to track her down?”

  “Maybe he has. He did request that Scarlett’s room be situated directly under his.” Zachariah turned around to look at his son. His eyes widened and narrowed just as quickly.

  “That’s still not enough evidence to support this. He is a twenty-five year old Nephilim, after all. Keep an eye on them, and keep me updated.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  Scarlett stared at him in disbelief.

  “No, you must be mistaken. I can’t be the offspring of an Archangel.”

  “All the signs arethere -your Trait appearing early… today wasn’t the first time was it?” Dyston asked.

  “No,” she admitted. “It first happened when I was fifteen.” She suddenly had a vision of fire, but this fire wasn’t from six years prior. She saw black wings and a baby crying. She met his eyes.