“You must be longing for rest,” The Angel’s cold, emotionless voice echoed in the museum halls. “You must be afraid, terrified even, I understand that. Come, let me help you.”
Kyle covered his mouth with his hands, and forced himself to take shallow, silent breaths. Footsteps echoed in the hall. They were growing nearer. Had the angel found him already? He didn’t dare move, not even to peek through the cracks in the statue’s wing.
“Let me guide you to where a wayward soul should have gone to.” The Angel continued talking as she passed him by, seemingly without noticing where he was hiding. “Let me take you to a place beautiful beyond your imagination.”
Kyle bit his lips. This place was confusing and beyond his imagination already. The last thing he needed was to be found and forcefully taken somewhere else by an angel. Heaven, he assumed was what she meant. Was it an
The angel’s voice echoed in the gallery. Kyle gritted his teeth, refusing to give him an answer.“Speak, human.” The angel’s grasp on his arm tightened, he pushed his wrist up. A sharp pain jolted through his arm.“Why do you care?!” He hissed. He couldn’t tell him it was Azazel’s doing. He had to keep the Fallen Angel out of it. If the Celestial Plane found out about him, this would end badly for both of them.“Dark Amber is rare,” The Angel stood up, pulling him up on his feet as well. “Too rare for a mortal to have so much of it.” He caught forced the young man to face him, and caught his other wrist.. “Who branded you, mortal?”Kyle gritted his teeth. “I don’t know.” He lied, hoping this angel didn’
The loud ringing continued for a while, growing louder, and more disturbing with each passing second. Kyle scowled, and twisted his face as the ringing seemed to try and pierce his skull.The angel also seemed somewhat disturbed, though for clearly different reasons than Kyle. Unlike the young man, the sound itself didn’t seem to bother the four winged angel. It was it’s meaning, what it signified that bothered him.“You seem to have brought along more trouble than I expected, human.” The angel condescendingly spoke. “Stay here,” He said as he dragged Kyle to the nearest tree. “And wait until I deal with whatever you did before the Greater Ones are disturbed.”He tied the young man’s hands to the roots perturbing the soil, then stretched his wings, and flew away. The loud ring had also begun
Once the angels were gone, the young mean sighed a quiet breath of relief. Their short, but precise conversation had hşm thinking. Why was Azazel named the traitor? Was it really him they were talking about?He couldn’t be sure. From what he knew about the Celestial Plane – which admittedly wasn’t much at all – there were more than a few angels who had left this plane, and sought refuge elsewhere. The two angels he overheard could be talking about any one of the escaped, fallen angels. But then again, what were the chances of one of them coming back to the Celestial Plane with ill intent at the same time as Azazel and Kyle had?Once a few short moments passed in silence, Kyle continued climbing the stairs. He paused for a few seconds at the top of the stairs, and listened carefully for any sounds, any signs of life. Once he was satisfied with the silence, he
The door opened with an alarmingly loud creak, startling him. It wasn’t so loud when the angels opened it, was it? He pushed the oddity to the back of his mind, and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Only then did he take a goof look inside.This was, indeed, an armoury. Weapon and armour racks filled the room. Bows and other similar weapons hung from the walls. Just like the museum, this place also had colour. The weapons and armour had colour, to be precise, not the room itself.Kyle looked at the weapons before him wide eyed. They were radiating with power. Celestial power. Power no man should have. Power Kyle most certainly was going to claim.He approached the nearest weapon rack, then hesitated. Was he still able to open his inventory here? He tried, and to his surprise, the interface he had already grown used to immediatel
The four winged Fallen Angel stretched his wings wide open, then leapt into the air with shocking speed. He met the descending angels halfway in the air, and as his blade met with that of the four winged angel, a loud, clear clang echoed in the air. The echo faded a moment later, immediately followed by the sounds of metal hitting metal, over and over again. As Azazel held his ground against the dozen or so angels attacking him from all sides, the four winged angel flew further up blade in hand, and pointed his weapon down, towards Azazel. Kyle bit his lips. Azazel had no weapons. He stopped the blades aiming for him with spells – solidifying the air and countering the strikes with that. As ingenious and useful that ability was, it certainly left him at a disadvantage against his enemies. And that disadvantage soon began to show itself by way of the Fallen Angel slowly losing ground, being forced to retreat. Every beat of his wings carried him back and down. His normally calm face t
As the four winged angel swooped down from the skies to take his life away, all Kyle could think of was how fast they could fly. “Necron’s Shield!” He hissed without hesitation. It was the most powerful defensive spell he had. If anything was going to work, it would be this! It was his best bet. The Necronomicon appeared in his open hands. The pages of the old book turned on their own, and a green beam of light shot up to the sky. Kyle didn’t let the barrier grow large – he just needed something small, and sturdy. The beam of green light spread out and soon curved down, around him, and touched the ground beneath his feet. The protective cocoon had just finished forming when the four winged angel reached him. The sharp blade hit the grey-green barrier with a loud, resounding clang, sending ripples through the barrier. Despite Kyle’s fears, the barrier held. Unable to stop at such speeds, the angel beat his wings in a panic in an attempt to avoid hitting the barrier. He grazed past i
His ears soon began to ring. Each step he climbed made the pressure wrong. Each step was a challenge. It felt like his legs were leaden. He felt sluggish, with little energy to waste on anything but taking one more step.He wanted to give up. He wanted to sit down, and let the pressure subside. Let the ringing in his ears stop. A short break, he told himself over and over again while his gaze remained fixed on the Fallen Angel’s back.He showed no sign of stopping. He climbed the stairs slowly, but deliberately. Each step he took was filled with confidence. His wings slowly began to glow with an ethereal light as they reached the halfway point.Soon, the layer of clouds blocking the sky began to scatter. Rays of blinding white sunlight pierced the clouds, illuminating the palace below for a split second before the shadow of something large blocked their path.“Hurry,” The Fallen Angel’s voice reached his ears. It was but a whisper,
A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead as he extended his arm. He hesitated for a split second, his hand hanging just a hair’s width away from the white hot beam, and the crystal holding the half of the hourglass.“I really hope you’re right about this.” He mumbled as he summoned his courage, pushed the ‘what if Azazel is wrong’ scenarios to the back of his mind, and stuck his hand into the white hot beam of light.His eyes shot wide open as he felt his skin catch fire. The scorching pain nearly knocked him out. Then, numbness took over as all other feelings vanished from his arm. The smell of burnt flesh and hairs reached his nostrils.His fingers clenched around the crystal. He pulled his hand out by throwing himself back, away from the white-hot beam of light. It took every single drop of willpower not to scream at the top of his lungs.The beam of light began to fade as his back hit the ground. Waves of pain jolte