ARC: Seeds of Calamity

CHAPTER OF THE PAGES - I - Heaven’s kitchen

One year later

Nezariel was in a hurry.

The hoodie she was wearing, covering her entire face, showing only shades of dark, along with a glimpse of her chaotic coloured eyes.

Two more hooded figures followed right behind her.

The cityscape revealed tons of buildings and crowded streets. It was the middle of the night, yet there were still dozens of people walking by, to get to one of the many bars and restaurants that existed there, and made the living soul of the district.

“So you knew that Azazel was here all along?” Nezariel asked angrily.

“Yes, I did. So what?” Aamon answered her, on her left. “He may have become a cook. But still, he’s one of the most powerful Archdukes to ever land on Earth. So what did you want me to do? Snitch him to you, so you could go straight forward questioning him? Or even better! So you could try to do the same thing you did to that sack of shit, Jeremy Rosenbaum? What for? My complete death?”

“She has a point, Neza...” Bertrand answered, as if backing Aamon.

***

They had a rough year until that moment.

Nezariel didn’t was to become a team with Aamon and the man who was supposed to become her twin’s next advent body. However, after finding out why Uriel was preparing an advent body, and why the demon was so eager to keep Nezariel’s company, she just felt compelled to make a team with them.

Bertrand spent three whole weeks in shock. He became a fugitive, after the police found what was left of Jacob in his house, trying to cope with the fact that he was also not a human being anymore, angels and demons were real, and he was supposed to become one of the most powerful angels to ever exist.

Took him one month to learn how to control his Grace, and once Aamon, curiously taught him how to control his body, all the eyes around his skin closed, only opening at his will.

It also took some lives, for him to learn how to close his eyes properly.

Despite the ragged appearance of his body, he at least looked like a human being once again.

“Aamon, why me?” he asked. “How did you know?”

They were eating and resting at an abandoned building, when Bertrand asked it. The whole atmosphere around them became heavy and sullen, and Aamon was pushed to answer, knowing that secrets couldn’t be kept from them anymore.

“I’m Lucifer’s agent on Earth. The Morning Star needed lower, yet thinking ranks here on Haled, so that he could find a way to infiltrate and...” the demon started speaking, but something went on his mind, becoming suddenly quiet.

“What then?” Nezariel asked, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Feeling that what they lived up until there would change forever, once more.

“And...” Aamon kept going after pondering for a moment. “Find the lost pages of the Book of Life.”

The atmosphere became darker and heavier, but Bertrand asked anyway.

“Ahn... Care to guide the lost tourist here?”

“Humans...” Aamon said, contemptuous.

“Shut up, Aamon. Even if he was a human, he deserves to know about it.” She looked at Bertrand with seriousness. “Though... If you get to know it, there’s no going back. Anymore.”

“Whatever... Do you really expect me to believe that there’s a way of getting my body back to how it was? And even if it was possible, I’d still be a fucking fugitive. I’m stuck with you now, guys. So fill me in.”

There was still a part of Becca in Nezariel’s heart, and that part ached, to think that the former private investigator never asked to become like this.

Bertrand never asked for that power, for his grace. He didn’t ask for any of the horrible things that he went through. Yet, Uriel still found a way to reach him in his dreams, taking him to the old Eden, so that he could see the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.

Uriel was a sly bitch, and she would do anything to protect Heaven.

Even if it meant burning the Haled to the ground.

The pieces fell in place quickly for Nezariel, but Becca’s feelings exploded from somewhere inside her, and before she could explain something, other words flew out of her lips.

“I’m sorry Bert...”

“What do you mean, girl?” he asked, feeling the blue in her voice.

“Oh, you got that now, don’t you?” Aamon added, with no intention of covering the sarcasm in it’s tone.

Nezariel’s voice echoed through the empty halls of the building as she spoke.

“Uriel chose you to become her advent body, because you were the one mortal who was the closest to me, in a manner of speaking.” Bertrand’s brows frowned in perplexity, but she kept speaking, as if to enlighten the companion. “You know, when an angel descents, it needs a mortal body, called advent body. It’s not immortal, also, when in advent, the angel cannot use its wings nor the power to tear the veil and create transportation rifts. Meaning that if she ever descended into you, she wouldn’t need much effort to find me. Because you were following the lead about the man who was blackmailing me, even though you didn’t know that.”

“So... She only chose me to get to you...?” Bertrand looked upset, and Nezariel wanted to do something about it, but couldn’t think of anything.

She still had part of the Ophanim’s good nature in her, so it made guilt weight ten times more, every time someone suffered something because of her. And it would take a lot of time to go away, if ever.

“No...” the angel continued on. “She chose you to get to something that I’ve been carrying with me ever since I ran away from Heaven...” she saw the demon looking at her with confusion, opened the inner pocket on her coat, and showed them what looked like an old parchment page.

“Woah, wait... Don’t tell me it is...” Aamon started, but Nezariel cut him mid-sentence.

“Yes. One of the pages of the Book of Life.”

The page stolen by Nezariel when she fled Heaven. The page that contained the concept of justice.

“But it’s written in a language that was supposed to be forbidden in Heaven.” the angel kept going, under the surprised gazes of her companions. “This language is high demonic, an ancient language that even marquises can’t speak. I gotta find out why the book supposedly written by the Mallakins have such profanity, and I have to find a way to use it... In order to restore my grace.”

Bertrand looked still a bit lost, but Aamon, upon listening to the last words of the angel’s speech, had an unexpected gleam in its eyes.

Even though the demon was using a defiled body, it could still use its powers, because demons weren’t bound to the heavenly rule of concealing.

And if Nezariel didn’t have her all her grace...

Then it meant that Aamon could steal the page from her, and keep reporting to her master.

A blackish red aura enveloped the demon’s body, its presence acquiring a threatening vibe. Aamon stood up to face the angel.

“So you don’t have all your powers yet...?”