The Helio Trilogy: Volumes 1-3

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The Helio Trilogy: Volumes 1-3 Page 21

by Valerie Roeseler


  I really don’t want to die today.

  “You want him to train me?” I admonish.

  “Train?” he snickers. “No, sweet dear. I want you to fight. We need to see what you are capable of. As I said, the best way to do that is to jump in feet first.”

  I swallow the lump of fear knotted in my throat. “Please, don’t make me do this.” Ryker doesn’t appear to be the type to play nice.

  I’m going to die. He’s going to kill me.

  The Duke ignores my plea, “What weapon do you think best, Ryker?”

  “Daggers, My Liege,” Ryker bows with the sweep of his arm in respect.

  Beleth turns to me, “And you, dear, have you ever used a weapon?” I'm stunned with silence. I don’t know which weapon I would be best at using. Either way, Ryker's going to kill me. Solas smiles at me with mischief, and I'm confused. He bends down into Beleth’s right ear to whisper. “Ah. So you have had some practice with a few weapons.” I feel betrayed by Solas at this moment. “The sai it will be. I always loved a well fashioned Egyptian duel.” He shifts in his seat with excitement and waves his hand. A set of daggers and a pair of sai appear at our feet in succession.

  Solas’ voice interrupts my thoughts. “You’ve got this, Ivy. I've seen what you can do. Ryker may be deadly, but he's slow. Look for his weaknesses and strike. I’m here if you need me. Just say my name in your mind.” I nod to him, concluding that Beleth doesn't possess the same telepathy as him.

  Ryker begins prancing around, preparing to teach me a lesson. I step forward to pick up my weapons, test their balance in my hands, and grip their hilts.

  Out of the corner of my eye, Ryker comes without warning, his daggers in hand as he charges at a powerful run. I’m caught off guard and twist to leap away, but a blade catches my back, slicing me across my kidney. I’m instantly in fight mode and pivot away. Ryker smiles, and the Fallen around us shuffle around each other, throwing taunts at us. This isn’t training. This is life or death. No room for mistakes with this brute. Ryker assumes I'm weak because he's wounded me already. He charges me again, expecting a duplicate outcome. Not this time, asshole. I charge back and slide to my knees, folding backward under the slice of his dagger through the air. I score a blade across his left ribcage. I wonder how fast he heals as I twist my body and jump into a crouch to defend myself. Ryker’s cockiness turns to ruthlessness. He stalks around me as I counter his steps, keeping my distance.

  The Fallen warrior begins taunting me to throw me off, “Too bad your little friend, the traitor, couldn’t be here to witness you die. Although, I did have fun carving him open and watching his insides spill on my boots. Such a pity.”

  My emotions shift from fighting for my life to the rage of revenge, and I cease retreating. “I'll make you pay for what you did,” the words seethe through my gritted teeth. His wings twitch as I hone in on my prey. I track his movements, picking up on imperfections in his form. All brute and no brains. He spins his knives through the air, making them whistle with impending cruelty. Catching an opening as he charges again, I sprint to the column closest to me and use my right foot to spring off. Reversing my momentum, I propel myself in a calculated arc towards Ryker. I drive the sai down, but Ryker sees me coming and pivots at the last second, avoiding my blades from impaling him. However, he isn’t quick enough. I manage to slice open his chest before landing hard on my feet in a crouch, ready for his counterattack.

  Ryker swipes a finger across his bleeding chest and flicks the crimson away as he unfurls his large insidious wings, “I’m going to cut your fucking eyes out and eat them for dinner tonight!”

  Fuck you, asshole!

  He throws a dagger at my chest, but I slice it out of the air before it reaches its destination. That’s it. Throw the other one, and you’ll have nothing.

  He flies above me, and I panic because he now has the advantage. He dives down, so I have no time to counter. I launch myself to the column in front of me and rocket from it to the next until I’m towering above. Reaching the apex, I jump to the opposite column as he dives for me. I swing around the structure before he can realize what's happening and plant two feet between his shoulder blades. He falls face first as I land on the ground with a thud and roll to a stand, absorbing the shock. I charge at Ryker as he rises to his hands and knees. I pounce on his back and coil my legs around his waist. Crossing my blades in front of him, I slice his throat. Blood spills as his legs give out beneath him, and he collapses to the stone ground.

  I stand and step over his body to view the growing puddle of blood, still pissed knowing he'll eventually heal and the battle will continue. I kick his ribs to flip him over and kneel with my left knee in his chest. His wings bend at an awkward angle beneath him. I wonder if it'll kill him if I rip his head off. Reaching down and grasping the sides of his face, I let the hate for this monster and what he did to Trey seep through me.

  I hear Solas yelling inside my head, "Ivy! What are you doing?" But I can’t stop.

  I’m going to kill him, I reply.

  Ice cold fire shoots from my fingertips and binds my hands to Ryker’s face. I put my leg over him to straddle his torso. All of a sudden, my head falls back with a sharp crack and my vision changes to a blinding white light. There's a tenacious ringing in my ears. A tearing pain stretches across my back as if I'm being whipped in Beleth's dungeons again. My whole body ignites in pain, and I scream with the intensity of the agony. An uncontrollable shuddering seizes my muscles. The ringing in my ears is all I hear. There's a pull in my chest as the white illumination leaves my vision, and I behold Ryker’s state.

  His body arcs towards me as black tendrils protrude from his chest. I can’t pull my hands away from his face as if we're welded together. The tendrils give way to a large black bubble akin to a vile, polluted jellyfish. It swims and pulses through the air, circling before me. I'm in awe and fear of what I'm witnessing. It stops before my face, sentient in its blind examination of me. My eyes widen as it plunges into my chest, and I scream with the torturing affliction it causes. I can’t focus anymore. The pain overcomes me, and I fall on top of Ryker’s unmoving body as my surroundings disappear.

  The world is cold and gray without warmth or color. I’m standing in an open field. There's nothing but dry grass as far as I can see. The dark sky moves swiftly with a ceiling of gray clouds. “Where am I?” I spin around to find some indication of a landmark. A man appears far ahead of me in a blur. “Hey!” I start to run to him. “Hey!” The closer I get, I'm able to make out his features. He's very tall with pure white wings behind his broad shoulders which almost touch the ground at his feet. He’s covered in gold, knightly armor from head to toe with a sword on his hip. I rethink approaching him and slow down. His helmet, which belongs on a Spartan warrior, frames the intense gaze instilling fear in my heart. I stop before him, and my knees buckle of their own volition. I look to the ground in disbelief.

  “Ivy,” the angel acknowledges. His tonality washes over me like warm honey, eliminating my fear and replacing it with adoration.

  I behold his presence and find courage to speak, “How do you know my name?”

  “I know every soul and every essence.”

  “Who are you?”

  The angel removes his helmet and holds it against his hip, “My name is Michael.” My eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, so you have heard of me?” He smiles at his own joke.

  “Where am I?”

  “This is the Veil. I summoned you here.”

  “I don’t understand. I don’t understand anything that's happening to me.”

  Michael offers me his hand to stand before him. Peace settles over me with his touch. “That is why I have brought you here. You have fully transformed. You are a Reaper, Ivy. Unlike any Reaper ever before you. You have been given gifts which will substantially impact the war between the Angels of Light and the Monsters of Darkness. You are the enigma that transcends all boundaries, making you the most powerful weapon to cut down the haze of
pollution in which evil has spread. It is your responsibility to steward this incredible gift.”

  “I don’t understand my gifts. Everyone keeps saying I'm a weapon... I don’t see it.”

  Michael elaborates, “Before Lilith became a demon, she was an Archangel and a deadly warrior. Your instinctual fighting skills come from her. She has also given you the ability of Second Sight, which I know you have been experiencing. What not many know is that Lilith has made promises to the Light that you will be able to fight against the Monsters of Darkness and greatly diminish the Almighty’s enemies. You see, He is not vengeful against the Fallen. He weeps for them. He doesn’t want to see them destroyed unless it is completely necessary. I agreed with Lilith to let you live, then appointed you with gifts she could not.”

  I can’t believe what I'm hearing. My mother made a deal with Michael and basically sacrificed me to a mission I have no say or power over. I was created to be their weapon. Nothing else. My life is not my own. It never has been.

  He continues, “I have given you the gift of empathy and insight in conjunction with Immortal Pestilence. With it, you can see the true nature of one’s essence. You will be able to determine if they are worthy of redemption. If they are, you have the power to reward them with a second chance—a soul. They will be stripped of their wings and be made human to live a mortal life. At the end of their mortal life, they will be judged by St. Peter to determine if they deserve Paradise once more.”

  I step back in shock, lock my fingers over my head, and begin to pace back and forth. I have no right to judge someone's worth. “Immortal Pestilence,” I whisper to myself.

  Michael chuckles, “Yes. You worry that it is an impossible feat, but you have already proven you are capable.” I stop and regard him with a raised brow. “The former demon, Trey. You befriended him. I watched your struggle beneath Beleth’s torture. I know you did not have a choice in your actions. Yet, you overcame every obstacle.” I squeeze my eyes shut and swallow the burning lump in my throat. “You saw the goodness within him. You did not realize what was transpiring as you released his essence. Let me show you.”

  Michael glides his hand through the air with his palm up, my attention turns right. A large full oak tree appears, and I can’t believe my eyes when they fall to a man strolling towards me. Trey?

  He smiles with his arms open wide. “Trey?” His smile widens further. “Trey!” I run into his arms and hold him tight. “You’re here! You’re really here! I’m so sorry, Trey! I’m so sorry!” I cry onto his shoulder, my voice a muffled sob.

  “Ivy. Everything's fine. I’m only here because of you.” I step back as we lock forearms together, afraid to let go.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “When you kissed me… You gave me a soul, Ivy. I wasn’t sent back to Sheol as I should have been.” My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I wasn’t supposed to go straight to Paradise either, but I wasn’t given a chance to live a mortal life after you released me. The soul you gave me is untouched and pure. You've given me the greatest gift, Ivy. I don’t deserve such a gift. I can never repay you for what you've done. Thank you.” Tears pour down my face. I can’t find my voice, so I nod my head. “I have to go now. I hope to see you again, friend.” He pulls me in for a hug, and I close my eyes to savor the feeling. Then he's gone, disappearing from my embrace.

  I face Michael who appears at my side and wipes the tears from my face, “So, what now?”

  “There is more you need to know before you can return.”

  “I don’t know how much more I can take.” I don’t mean to say it out loud or for it to come out so ungrateful. Yet, there it is.

  “You can handle a lot more than you think, Ivy.” He places his right hand on my shoulder, “When I made the offer with Lilith, I did not take into consideration who your father is. I never asked, and she never offered me a name.”

  “Azrael.”

  “Yes. It was not expected. I had intended for you to become an Arch Warrior like your mother was. Because Azrael’s rank in the hierarchy is above the Archangels, he has passed on his Reaper gifts to you. Reapers have the ability to usher mortal souls into the Veil so they may be guided to their rightful destinations, but because you are a direct descendant of Azrael himself, you are capable of reaping a soul directly from its host. Because your paternal lineage was unknown, and I gave you the capacity to reward souls to deserving beings, consequences were fabricated.” I try to piece everything together. “This is why you are an enigma, Ivy. You are more powerful than what was intended. You have the power to not only reap a mortal soul but to reap the essences belonging to beings of Light and Darkness alike. It also allows you to make a choice in whether or not you will appoint them a soul for redemption. You are the only creature with this ability besides myself. It is a great honor and great sorrow all the same. It is critical that you do not take this gift lightly and only use it when necessary.”

  “How am I supposed to learn to use all of my gifts? And how will I know when to use them?”

  “It will come naturally.”

  We stand in silence as I take everything in. I inhale deep through my nose until my lungs are full and release it in a calming breath. “So, now what?”

  “Now you will go back and do what you were created to do.”

  “Back to Beleth? How am I supposed to get away from him?”

  “You will figure it out on your own. I cannot tell you what to do with the knowledge I have given you, as am I not to interfere with your mission.”

  “How do I get back?”

  Michael takes my right hand and turns it palm up. I look down at the new black raised scarring from my wrist to my elbow. It’s a tattoo close to Alice and Eric’s, but much longer in length and containing additional shapes. “This is your official position in the hierarchy—your rank. All angels have them. Only Reapers and higher orders have them with functionality. When you run your first two fingers from your elbow to your wrist, it will bring you here into the Veil. Run those same fingers from your wrist to your elbow, it will take you back to your body.”

  I’m not really here? Only consciously?

  I inspected my new markings. It contains eleven characters of a language that I don’t understand. The first is a slightly curved line, from left to right. The second character below it resembles a seven. The third is a C with two lines coming from the back of its curve. The fourth looks like a squiggly L. It’s followed by a capital I, a three, a backward lowercase h, another squiggly L, another backward h, a weird Z that reminds me of half a Greek cross, and another backward three.

  “What language is this?” I ponder.

  “It is Enochian. The Angelic language.”

  “What does it say?”

  “Death.”

  “What? That’s my rank?” I remark, slack-jawed.

  “You are an enigma. There is not an actual place for you within the hierarchy. Azrael is not too happy about it either because he is the Angel of Death. This makes you higher in rank as you are Death.”

  “Great.”

  I haven’t even met my father, and he already hates me.

  “If you need me, Evelyn will know how to reach me. Goodbye, Ivy.”

  “Thank you, Michael.” He spreads his wings and replaces his helmet before he nods once to me and bolts into the sky as a blinding white comet, blowing my hair from my face and flattening the grass.

  I'm hesitant to return to The Keep. I just killed one of Beleth’s soldiers, and from what Michael has told me, I’m pretty sure I took his essence. Ryker won’t be recovering. I need a plan for when I get back. I don’t know what my final transformation will look like. I wonder if my wings are purple or green. I shouldn’t go around parading my abilities. If Beleth ever finds out, he'll hold me in that dungeon for eternity. I need to get rid of him. He's foul and lacks redemption. The only way I'll be able to free myself from him completely is to kill him. Take his essence. What happens to an essence when I take it?

&n
bsp; I examine my new marking. Now or never, Ivy. Using my index and middle finger, I slide my fingertips from the top of my wrist to my elbow. Each letter illuminates with a white glow following my touch. The Veil fades to blackness, and I awaken in the bed of my chamber within The Keep. Cold silk sheets graze my bare skin as I sit up. Why am I naked? How the hell did I get in here?

  Chapter 17

  I search around the dim, quiet room and appear to be alone. I’ve got to get some clothes on before someone comes in. I’m surprised Beleth didn’t lock me up again for killing Ryker. Will Cassius and Beckett still be on my side? Will Solas? Was he ever on my side?

  I tiptoe to the dresser with the sheet wrapped around me, trying not to alert anyone I'm awake. Easing the drawer open, I find the same black leather pants I wore to Jack’s race to distract him. I’ve got to get back to Jack. I leave the drawer ajar to make less noise and ease the top one open to take out a matching set of undergarments before putting them on. The sheet pools at my feet, and I slide into the leather pants. Where are my wings? I creep into the bathroom to see my reflection. I turn around regarding my bare back, save for the straps of my bra. I don’t see anything different. Where are they? Michael said I was fully transformed. He also said my gifts would come naturally… Maybe if I focus.

  I face my reflection, taking a relaxing breath as I contemplate what it will feel like to have wings as extremities and how I should move them. The base of my spine warms with tingles, and the sensation continues up my vertebrae in deliberate succession. As it reaches the base of my neck, a slight burning grows between my shoulder blades consonant to warm wax being poured over my skin before cooling after contact. I'm afraid to turn my back to the mirror and witness what's happening, believing it could scare me into ceasing my attempt. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. The need to flex my back muscles is prominent. As I do, a turbulent whoosh echoes off the stone walls of the bathroom, identical to the rumble of a piece of paper being sucked out of the window of a speeding car.

 

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