Hey guys, I'm on a bit of a roll. Enjoy :)
Quick recap: Samael is Eden's dad and Edvardiel's grandfather. He made the Garden to protect his family and his remains are buried under a giant tree. In the chapters "Frozen", Rosalie and Issa got their Edenium weapons from that tree.
Issa's child self gazed at her with bold, piercing eyes, her hands clasped together as though in prayer. She opened her palms, and golden butterflies spilled into the air, their wings shimmering.
The darkness unmasked itself.
They were looking at the memory from the perspective of Samael's tree. Eternally autumn leaves fell to the ground, where the tree roots burrowed deep within the glacier. Three figures stood amidst the frost.
Little Issa's butterflies shimmered in the morning light.
Eden's breath caught. "They're beautiful."
"They're an aberration," Eve cut in, her voice sharp. Thorny vines snapped in the air, lashing toward the butterflies, but a crackle of lightning coiled around them protectively.
"No need to kill them," Eden exclaimed. "They can stay in my Garden."
Ivies snaked down Eve's hair as she gazed coldly at her daughter. "Immortality is for Heaven, not Earth. You know the cost."
Issa's glow dimmed but Eden knelt next to her, undeterred. "Oh come on. She's both. So am I. So is my Garden." She turned to the girl, her eyes tender. "My papa made this Garden for our family. He wasn't much of a gardener—that's why it's all bare like Heaven." She wrinkled her nose but smiled in the direction of Samael's tree. "I'd love more colour. Make as many butterflies as you like. No—make as many as you can!"
Issa looked unsure, but when Eden gave her arm an earnest squeeze, she smiled, the expression transforming her solemn little face. She flung her arms wide, her skin ablaze.
A thousand butterflies erupted like stardust, shooting into the sky.
Eden gasped.
Eve stepped in. "Enough." She gripped her daughter's shoulder, her knuckles white. "If you want to summon your glory, do it properly."
The light died. Eve turned back to Eden, her expression tight as the butterflies scattered, fields of brilliant flowers blooming around them. "How is your son?"
Shutters dropped over Eden's face and her smile faded. "He's safe. That's all that matters."
"Are you sure you don't—"
"No. If it ever comes to that, I'll protect him." The tiniest spark of lightning crackled in her hair. "He's a child—my child. I don't want blood on his hands."
Eve's lips pressed into a hard line. "You're short-sighted."
"Maybe," Eden said softly. "But I'm not cruel."
"I am Earth's Guardian. I do what I must." Eve gave the Nephilim a long, contemplative stare. "Don't make the same mistakes as your father, Eden." With that, she walked away, pulling Issa along. The girl peeked back at Eden, one last golden butterfly rising from her hand like a gift before the memory dissolved into black.
꒰১ ໒꒱
The voices faded but the weight of the words remained, settling in the pit of Issa's stomach. The air around her grew colder, the shadows pressing in as her younger self came into focus.
In the darkness, Issa's child self sat in a corner, arms wrapped around her knees, head bowed. When Issa stepped towards her, the girl opened her mouth in a scream—a raw, piercing sound that shattered the silence and a flurry of broken wings burst from her lips.
They slammed into Issa, each one carrying jagged fragments of memory.
"Hold her down."
"I'm trying, Luce, she's—"
"You're not trying hard enough."
"She's just a child."
"Do you want me to seal her memories or not?" Lucifer sounded vexed. "Letting her stay in the Garden was your idea. Or do you want her to summon Michael again?"
There was rage in Eden's voice. "Sometimes, I hope she does. I hope those two finish each other off."
Lucifer paused. "Maybe he's finally found a way. Maybe that's why Eve has disappeared."
There was an explosion, and Eden cried out in pain.
"Eden, use your glory," Lucifer said. "If you don't get her under control, I will."
A single bloody wing dripped onto Issa's skin.
"I didn't get them all. She fought me too much." Lucifer said.
"Not just you." Eden sounded strained. "It should be enough. We'll anchor these memories in my father's tree. We can seal the rest that way."
The voices faded.
Issa's child self gazed at her silently, then spat out three butterflies onto her hands. Each one was bloodstained, trembling, and she held them out like an offering.
Issa reached to take them.
A distant voice called out to her.
"Issa. We've got to start going down soon if you want to reach the gates on time."
Jacob.
Issa hesitated.
There was a small tug at her angel dress.
The child stowed the butterflies in her dress. Her hands were covered in blood and her eyes were bottomless and sad. She stepped back, as though to return to the shadows, but Issa knelt down.
They looked at each other. Eve's displeasure echoed in Issa's mind. Immortality is for Heaven, not Earth. Michael's disgust followed soon after. You bleed like a human. The child before her embodied half of everything each parent loathed—human and seraph, Life and glory, Heaven and Earth—and they'd torn her apart with their feud. But she was neither. She was both. She was enough.
Tentatively, Issa held out her arms.
The child stood still for a moment, then she smiled, a sweet smile filled with joy, and ran to her.
The moment they touched, brilliant light exploded around them. It wasn't the pure gold of glory or the emerald sheen of Life. It was more—a raw, chaotic fusion of everything she'd been ashamed to be, everything that had been taken from her. The past and the present collided, and Issa closed her eyes, letting it all pour through her. Her chest ached with the weight of the dormant memories.
She embraced it.
Eventually, the light faded.
She was back under Samael's tree, butterflies swirling in the air. Issa held out a hand. They flocked to her, their wings brushing against her skin and leaving trails of fiery heat.
The butterflies were hers. The beautiful flowers—the ones she'd felt she hadn't deserved—she'd made them. The Garden's wild, living allure—they'd been born from the core of her very being.
Issa's heart steadied, and for the first time, she felt whole. Not perfect, not healed—but whole.
From the periphery, she heard familiar, slightly halting footsteps.
"Did you find anything?" Jacob's face emerged from the shadows. His eyes were slowly healing, the butterfly-gold softening into dark-brown and white. Concern and unjustified guilt flickered in his gaze.
"Yes." Issa's voice was the same and yet touched by something new—a new calm, a fragile sense of peace. Slowly, she stood, brushing gold and red leaves from her lap. Her angel dress had squeezed itself dry and her butterflies lingered close. "Let's close the gates. I'm ready."