Thank you to JoVersify for going through this chapter!
Sorry for the late update guys! I was really busy with the move and I was also down with a stomach bug last week. Hope you enjoy the fireworks in this chapter, I'm just in time for New Year's :D Leave me a review if you're reading, would love to hear from you. Take care and till 2024 ;)
Edvardiel's storm-coloured wings crackled with silver thunderbolts. Warm air beat against her face as they fanned out.
"Lightning, huh?" She reached out to gently touch a feather. It glinted in the sun, brilliant and incredibly soft. "It suits you."
"It comes much easier than angelfire." He patted down another strand of her electrified hair. "The key? Love." He glowed and more electricity crackled between them.
"Get a room, you two," Rosalie drawled.
"Where's the dessert?" Paul called out, his hair standing on end. "I thought the whole point of you flying here was so the ice cream doesn't melt!"
Edvardiel unhooked a bag from one of his shoulders and handed it to Paul. "Here, Your Hungriness." He turned back to Issa, radiant with pure, unadulterated affection.
Love.
No matter how many times he told her and showed her, no matter how many times she felt it in their bond, the sentiment never failed to make her heart leap.
Without thinking, she reached up and kissed him. He deepened it, his arms snaking around her waist and his wings curled as it shielded them from view and enclosed his glory in a downy little alcove of cosy feathers. The sun warmed her skin, and behind them, laughter filled the air as someone made a joke.
Issa's heart swelled. She pulled her angel closer to her, feeling the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat against her body. He was alive. She was alive. They were all alive. She glowed with joy, feeling ready to burst. And all of a sudden, a powerful wave of glory surged through her.
Her body floated upwards, and Edvardiel's lips curved as he gazed at her with admiration and wonder. "You're flying."
His hands rested loosely on her waist as a second wave of glory coursed through her. Energy gathered in her arms and her muscles tingled. Before she could take a closer look, a third wave came crashing. Power crested, sharp and terrifying, and instinctively, she pulled away.
As she stumbled back, overwhelmed, her palms felt numb, as though someone had left her wrists tightly bound for hours. They shone like the sun. As another surge of glory overwhelmed her, she threw up one blazing arm into the air and released a flare of gold.
There was a loud bang, and everyone started backwards.
She wasn't done. Another uncontrollable gush of energy sent her glory rippling through the air, the power reminiscent of human bombs that had wrecked their Earth. The volcanic ball of flames shot up, higher and higher where they finally bloomed.
As she looked up into the clear blue skies and the plume of flowering fire, the world shifted on its axis.
She'd done this before.
She'd seen this before.
And all under a sky as blue and as clear as today.
She was a child again.
An angel's silhouette cast its great shadow onto her. It was Michael, and he landed in his full armour, his glare bloodthirsty and vengeful.
She was too entranced to look away.
At her unblinking stare, his ruthless, inhuman eyes narrowed. "You have Eve's insolence."
He wrapped a hand around the hilt of his sword but something made him pause. As though unable to help himself, he knelt down to inspect her more closely. His gaze wavered between fascination and disgust.
Her childish self was too fixated by his glowing hand to worry about the sword.
He glowed like her.
No one glowed like her. She reached out and touched his hand.
Sparks flew from the tips of her fingers and he flinched back. He drew his sword fully this time and grabbed her by the arm, his blade pressed to her neck.
She didn't flinch. She'd been taught better than that.
He paused again.
"Fearless," he murmured, his gaze turning appreciative. "A rare quality, even among seraphim." He adjusted his grip on his blade, the sharp glory in his eyes wavering once more. Then in one decisive motion, he sheathed his weapon. "It would be a waste to kill you."
He glowed, shining so brightly that she had to shield her eyes. When she regained her sight, he was gone.
He came back the next day and the next. He always came when Eve and Adam were away. Often, he'd come even when they were there, his wings shrouding him from their sight.
Each time, he'd watch her, his sword half-drawn, his bizarre eyes following her every movement. His visits became so frequent that she grew bored, ignoring his presence as he watched her train her power of Life or read.
After Heavens knew how long, he came close enough that she could touch him, raising a brow when she continued to ignore him. That didn't last long, especially when she noticed his glimmering wings. Once, she'd plucked a feather and he struck her across the face so hard that her ears rang. He struck her often when she displeased him. He never drew blood, but in retrospect, she suspected it was because he didn't want to trouble himself with Eve or Adam–angels weren't supposed to kill humans, after all.
Despite that, he showed her how to channel her glory. Her sparks turned into a steady glow, and then little blasts. Her glory surprised her human parents, unsettling Eve several times. This seemed to satisfy Michael.
One day, after she managed to summon a particularly powerful burst of fire, his callous gaze warmed to something almost human. He lifted her into his arms, unexpectedly gentle.
"I will show you what it should look like."
He shot up into the air without bothering to spread his wings. Issa's teeth chattered from the cold, and she was shivering uncontrollably by the time they stood before Heaven's golden gates.
Michael raised one arm into the endless universe. A fountain of devastating flames exploded outwards, obliterating everything in its path.
"Smiting," he said. "The power that gave me Heaven's throne." He looked up at the fire. It was so large that its size was incomprehensible–there was no telling where it ended. He blinked. "It is greater than any I have brought forth before." His seraphic gaze flickered to her, contemplative. "Your turn."
Despite feeling so cold she could barely think, she didn't complain. Eve had taught her better. Words were useless unless they served a purpose and Michael hated weakness. Young as she was, he'd shown her as much.
Think of something happy, Eve had said and it had never worked.
Michael's instructions had been different. What do you wish for the most? No, do not tell me. Imagine it in your mind. Imagine it coming true. Feel it come true in your bones.
She looked at his wings and imagined herself with a pair. She imagined flying like he did. Glowing like he did. Being a real angel like he was. A cloud of fire expanded above them, nothing as strong as Michael's, but powerful in its own right.
Michael was silent for a long time as they watched both their flames fade into the dark corners of the universe.
She was so cold by the time he took her back down that her fingers were numb and her head drooped against his shoulder.
Delirious, she reached for the shiny blade that had always captivated her, and ran her delicate human fingers against the sharp edge. Scarlet blood dripped onto the ground and stained Michael's robe.
His reaction was instantaneous.
"You bleed like a human," he said. His lips curled with disgust and he abruptly threw her down. He stared at her hand. Her blood was so red. "I thought about waiting," he said, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "Perhaps you would grow wings. Perhaps you were more seraph than human. Perhaps I could have taken you to Heaven with no one the wiser. You are certainly fearless enough." He knelt down and tilted up her chin. "But I see now that it will never be."
His thumb caressed her cheek–the closest to affectionate he'd ever been–then he drew his sword, and without hesitation, he brought it down.
Clang.
The sword went flying and they both looked up.
It was her dream angel.
He'd knocked aside Michael's weapon. With what, Issa wasn't sure but he rubbed his knuckle as he stood before her, blocking her from view.
"Filicide doesn't become you, Michael," he said pleasantly.
Michael's eyes blazed as he took in her dream angel's wings. "That key no longer belongs to you."
Her dream angel feigned surprise. "Oh?"
"You were supposed to kill Eden, not fornicate with her," Michael snarled.
"It's not called fornication if you're married, Michael dear." Her dream angel held up a hand to reveal the very item he'd used to deflect Michael's sword–a gold wedding band. "I wasn't sure this would work against your amplifier sword." The ring glinted in the sun and her dream angel grinned, pleased with himself. "Then again, part of it is coated with Edenium."
"And yet you wear it," Michael said flatly. "How far you have Fallen without my help."
Issa collapsed to the ground as the world started blurring. Her dream angel's gaze darted to her shivering form. A trail of warm angelfire circled her. "You don't know anything about humans, do you?" he asked. "A little longer up there and you'd have killed her with the cold."
"Unlike you, I do not play games with humans I decide to kill," Michael said.
Her dream angel laughed. "Is that why you've been bonding with your darling daughter for the past year? How do you think I found you? Eve told me about her astonishing progress with glory and of course, I thought about you and our jealously guarded secret–wing invisibility. It doesn't work on Nephilim, by the way." He glanced at Issa again. She was still, her breathing shallow, and he turned back to Michael, his tone deliberately taunting. "I didn't expect you to sharpen the sword meant for your throat."
Michael's eyes flashed. He opened both his palms and her dream angel leapt, grabbing Issa and skidding to the side, his arms and wings curling around her like a shield.
The movement was unnecessary–nothing emerged from Michael's palms. He tried again. And again. Each time, nothing happened.
Her dream angel arched a brow, and then unfolded himself, a smirk unravelling on his face. "Can't feel happy after deciding to kill your daughter?" he jeered. "It seems you have my affliction."
The king of angels blazed and picked up his blade.
"Step aside, Lucifer," he said. "This has nothing to do with you."
Her dream angel only held her more tightly.
"On the contrary," he said. "This has everything to do with me. And unlike you, I'm still very much in control of my glory." His wings unfurled as angelfire roared around them, knocking Michael backwards.
Fire surrounded them, and Issa's world vanished once more. She was on the ground, winded, Edvardiel bending over her. Everyone else was transfixed by the multiple fires blooming high in the skies.
"Fireworks!" Alice cheered happily. "You did it, angel!"
Congratulations. Her dream angel sounded delighted. No, not her dream angel. She knew his name now.
Lucifer.
Lucifer.
"Issa?" Edvardiel said.
"Something about that looks familiar." Mike rubbed his chin as he looked up at the fire in the skies. "Where did I see it before?"
"It's angelfire, duh," Jessica said. "What else can it be?"
"I could've sworn I saw pictures of that in a book somewhere," Mike said.
"Issa?" Edvardiel said again, and she realised she was propped up on her elbows, still motionless with shock.
"I need a moment," she said, as soon as she found her tongue. Before he could respond, she ran into the cottage, up into her room, and slammed the door shut.
"Lucifer?" she called out his name with disbelief. "Lucifer?"
At first, there was no answer. Then a single imaginary feather drifted down from the rafters.
So you remember.
"Did you tell him?" Issa demanded. Her heart thumped unsteadily. "Did he know when he killed you?"
Silence again. There was no feigning ignorance this time. She clenched her fists–
Lucifer scoffed. Kill me? That boy? Do you truly believe that?
"So you're not dead?" She was grasping at straws. He was in her mind. The imaginary feathers in her vision were bloody and burnt. He'd seemed to wither away in her dreams.
Again with the stupid questions.
"Tell me," she demanded. She wasn't in the mood for games. "How are you talking to me when a fucking heart, eyes and bones are all that's left of you?"
An angel cannot die as long as some part of their wing lives on. My favour to your mother has unfortunately turned into another debt.
Issa put a hand to her face. "How am I supposed to tell him?"
Tell him? Lucifer sounded annoyed. Do you really need another useless distraction in the middle of all this?
She exhaled.
If you must tell him, do it after you deal with the Apocalypse and Michael. He sounded restless, almost as though he were anxious. Nephilim and their useless emotions.
Anger bubbled up in her. "Why didn't you tell him? Why–"
A soft knock on her door.
"Issa? Are you all right?"
Edvardiel's voice was as soothing as ever but she felt the worry in their bond.
"I'm all right," she called out. She wanted to press Lucifer for more answers but she couldn't do it with Edvardiel on the other side of the door. "Just give me a minute."
She leaned against the door and took a deep breath. A quick glance in the mirror revealed wild eyes and unkempt hair, but thankfully no Michael.
She touched her cheek and then glanced down at her fingers, thinking of her childhood wish to be like Michael. Thank Eden it hadn't come true.
