I had so much going on this week that I just finished speed-writing this chapter and didn't have time to send it to JoVersify *hides* Sorry! I hope you enjoy it anyway. Till next Friday!
Poison, III
When the gates faltered for the third time, it didn't return, leaving Eden wide open for Lilith's hell-bound army.
Issa reached for her Edenium blade but Edvardiel was already in movement. His skin flashed, the sheer energy forcing her backwards. She stumbled, sprawling to the ground. Worry flashed through their bond and she looked up to see him gazing back at her, a web of glory crackling between his palms.
Her hair whipped around her face.
"Watch out!" she screamed.
He turned back just in time to deflect a demon—the mace grazed his throat, opening a thin line of blood.
She seized her blade and rose to find herself surrounded by…
"Acolytes."
Every muscle in her body locked down. These weren't demons. These were Acolytes like her. Like Yassper. One was built just like him, towering and muscular, with curved double blades in his hands. Their eyes met and she could tell he wanted to be here as much as she did.
Issa's world spun.
He was new, then. Freshly risen from another ruined city. His veins glowed blue—he was fighting the poison, just like they all tried to do in the beginning.
They converged on her and Issa evaded the weapons by instinct alone. A whistle here, a flash of silver there—several nicked her flesh, superficial but not deadly. Blood trickled over one eye and she panted, licking her lips.
"Issa!"
She didn't dare look back. Didn't dare take her eyes off the puppets trying to maim her. They weren't here to kill her—their cuts were too shallow for that. They were here to drag her back.
The Edenium blade trembled in her hands. It would be so easy to cut them open—especially the newest boy, the one with the blue glow. Just do it, she tried to tell herself. You've done this a million times.
Yassper's face flashed before her eyes.
Issa blinked.
More images flooded her mind—the little hand clutching a bloodied teddy bear, the fragile body crushed underneath the bookshelf. Heavy rain and crying echoed in the background while a hand that didn't feel like hers yanked Yassper's blade from a mother's chest. Her ears rang and she couldn't breathe.
Bloodied feathers drifted down from the skies, completing the nightmarish scene.
Move! Her dream angel shouted.
She couldn't. She couldn't. Her weapon clattered to the ground as the boy's curved blade buried itself in her abdomen. Or almost did. Edvardiel was there, his glory blasting the Acolyte's arm off.
The boy's horrified eyes were the last thing she saw before everything went black.
She remembered thinking that he'd seemed more horrified at what he was doing than the fact that he was missing an arm. And she wondered if this was his first mission. Poor bastard couldn't catch a break.
She dreamed.
Three feathers levitated around her, circling, while a fourth feather floated above her head.
Her dream angel was there too. The more she looked at him, the more she thought he looked like Edvardiel. They even had the same glint of humour in their eyes, only this angel possessed an arrogance to him that Edvardiel didn't have. He looked as though he were withering away. His red hair was streaked with grey and even his wings seemed to have lost some of their sheen. If she had to give him an age, she'd say he was in his mid-fifties.
That was foolish of you, child.
She stared at him as he lounged behind the barrier of the circling feathers.
Do be more careful. Many people worked hard to keep you and that mopey boy alive.
"Edvardiel's not mopey," she said defensively. "You have no idea what he went through."
The angel smirked. I'll admit, I never saw this little affair coming. Very poetic. It makes all of our failed plans almost forgivable.
"Who are you?" she asked.
He strode towards her. The more important question is, who are you, child? Who could create a key to Heaven? He snapped his fingers and a mirror rose before her. She saw her reflection staring back at her, bruised and bloody from the battle. A long cut ran down from her left eye to her jaw, explaining all the blood in her vision.
"What do you want me to say?" she snapped. "You're the one holding the key to all my memories."
Your memories have already told you. His voice was silken. But if you want me to spell it out... He snapped his fingers again and her reflection dissolved, reforming into a familiar face. A face that she'd hallucinated several times.
She flinched back. "No."
It couldn't be.
Yes, her dream angel sounded almost gleeful. You inherited Eve's power of Life but even Eve cannot grow a key to Heaven. At least, not until she carried you in her womb. You see, every gate has a maker. Eden's gates were made by Samael. Heaven's gates were made by the king of angels. And his blood runs in your veins.
Not for the first time, Michael stared back at her from the mirror.
"No!" She shook her head violently. She couldn't be the child of that monster.
But the longer she looked, the more similarities she found. The harsh set of his lips. The perpetually disapproving gaze. Even the foul temper.
Heaven's abandoned princess.
