Angel Romance: Awakened (Paranormal Book for Adults) (Cursed Angel 1)

by Amelia Wilson

  Legend has it that when Maan took over the first High Priestess Iktai’s body, she went to the oldest Elementalists in the world then, to learn of this occult, natural magic.

  The Xeraians delegates were a slightly larger crowd than the Enmeits, and they had also included children. The nation, as an average, towered over the rest of the world. Long limbed and easy natured, the Xeraians wore smiles on their faces better than the Enmeits.

  Though bristled by her circumstances, Shera was still quite happy to see the arrival of the visitors for the Festival of Providence. It had been one of the moments when she, her father and mother had spent together as a family. This was the first Festival her father had deliberately skipped. Apparently, he too must have been thinking of the significance of the festival to their family, too hurt by his wife’s passing to relive it.

  As the Xeraians moved along the parade, the Sedayvalian crowds craned their heads once more at the platform in the middle of the square, the apprehension clearly demarcated on their faces. Everyone held their breath for the arrival of the third, and final representatives. The platform gave out a final glow of red and before dissipating. Everyone gasped.

  On the elevated platform now stood a solitary figure, having been transported from lower Earth. Only one delegate had arrived from Shando.

  His solitary presence unnerved the Sedayvalians who had been expecting a large crowd from the Eastern Region. Tall and muscular, he looked around at the subdued welcome, and made his way in the Xeraians and Enmeits’ wake. He wore his hair in a black ponytail. He walked with haughtiness, stirring some discomfort amongst the Sedayvalians.

  His eyes fixed to the front, at High Priestess Iktai’s castle, where she stood at the parapet to welcome the delegates from the Northern, Southern and Eastern Region… It was clear that the High Priestess did not welcome him, for he was not afforded a chaperone.

  His eyes, she thought to herself, as everyone around her continued cheering. Her own world fell silent, as her gaze fell upon the eyes of the Dragon Knight. Whitish with a tinge of silver, his eyes were the gloom of a mundane, cloudy day, though the intensity of their gaze belied a kind of rough, untamed passion. For the first time since her mother’s passing, Shera felt a strong bond with the Shandos. No one else in Sedayval had the blood of Shando except she, and her late mother. It had always made Shera feel like a foreigner in her own land.

  She looked at the sky, wondering if her mother was with Maan, looking down at the parade with a smile on her face.

  When her attention turned to this particularly tall Shando man, she had to do a double take. The tenseness on his face was clear from the way he wore his surly expression, but there was beauty in his eyes. His face was chiseled right down to the slight bluntness of his chin, but everything about his body denoted hard work and perseverance. He was muscular, though in the way that he was not a meathead who had to show his muscles off to everyone in the vicinity. Clad in a simple robe of ashen grey and white, it mimicked his eyes. When the wind blew against the parade, the garb pressed against his muscular pectorals and flat abdomen.

  Multiple ruby studs lined along his ear, shining with dazzling alacrity as it caught the light of the Illuminating Orbs lining the streets. He seemed bored but kept with the usual expression, as though it was required. Shera was drawn to him by a certain unexplainable magnetism.

  She pushed through the crowd at the fringe of the road to keep up with his steady gait as they moved towards the High Priestess’s palace. Alas, it was too difficult for Shera to permeate the crowd nearest to the palace gates, where the concentration of people was at its highest. By this time, the man and his fellow people from Shando had gone into the gates of the palace to meet with the High Priestess.

  The hubbub of the crowd soon began to die down, as people began to move back to their homes. Doors would be kept open for the next week.

  It was customary that after the delegates’ meeting with High Priestess Iktai, each of them could choose a house to occupy, where the hosts would treat them as they would their own family, their own Sedayvalian.

  “I hope the Shandorian doesn’t stir up trouble here,” Shera heard one locale react to another.

  “May Maan help the families who will have to accommodate that white-eyed freak,” another said with a sigh.

  “Oh, no amount of blessing from Maan would make me able to see that pair of abominations.”

  It was then the two realized that Shera was listening. At the sight of her whitish eyes and long, Un-Sedayvalian hair, they recoiled and began walking in the opposite direction.

  Soon, the crowd that had stood at the sides of the streets began converging into the middle, to see what wares and good have also been brought by merchants from all over in the central square. Many merchants were also present from all over the continent, taking advantage of the confluence of people from the festival.

  Shera was left to her own thoughts when she heard someone calling out her name. Looking at the direction, she smiled. It was another Young Acolyte of Maan, Aishan. Aishan was the only friend Shera had in the court of Maan.

  Aishan ran up to Shera, panting slightly, her hand settling on the taller woman’s shoulder for support.

  “Did you… did you see the Shandorian? He has your eyes! Just as your mother had said before this!”

  Shera smiled at Aishan’s comments. “I sure did. It feels a little weird to see another person with eyes like mine. All my life, it has always just been my mother and I.”

  Aishan reached for a small bottle and pulled at the stopper. She drank a little Pruvane Wine before offering Shera some. The sweet, fermented cherry taste stirred a little warmth in Shera in the cold night.

  “I wonder where they will be staying,” Aishan said, as they walked along the noisy street. The Palace Gates were closed, the delegates in meeting with High Priestess Iktai. When it opened, they would then walk along the streets of Sedayval as locales would, before choosing a house to stay in.

  “Usually with the richer hosts,” Shera said, pointing at some of the bigger mansions closest to Sedayval Castle. “It is always that way, isn’t it?”

  Aishan did not reply immediately, and Shera realized the errors in her statement. Aishan’s mother was a minister in High Priestess Iktai’s court, and therefore was supplicated with the proper accolades and amenities the job had to offer. Aishan’s home, a three-floor mansion, could be seen from the main street, and was one of the most beautiful houses out of the Palace of Sedayval.

  “I didn’t mean it that way, Aishan. I’m sorry,” Shera replied, flustered. “I just mean that the delegates are usually tired after their long journey to Sedayval. When they reach, they would definitely want to find the nearest and most comfortable houses, wouldn’t they? And the houses of the ministers are the most convenient, as it is near the Central Square.”

  “You say it like it is a bad thing,” Aishan replied in a playfully peeved voice. Still, she smiled. The younger Acolyte had a lot of respect for Shera’s outspoken ways and occasionally brash behavior.

  “It isn’t,” Shera reassured her.

  But they both knew that it was the truth. Many assumed that with Sedayval being the pinnacle of human civilization, their citizens would be treated equally. The reality of the situation was far from it, for the citizens were divided into many classes. Royalty occupied the center and west of the floating city, with the High Priestess’s palace being the tallest building in the whole of Sedayval. Academicians, ministers, and luxury goods merchants, distally abutted the prime locations of the city. And at its circumference lived the rest – the smaller Priestesses, Acolytes, artisans, simple merchants, occupy the outer. Shera and her father occupied the more hidden parts of the city that the visitors would never see.

  In her eighteen years of living in Sedayval, never have they been host to the delegates. To be chosen as a host was considered a high honor, and it was only bestowed to Sedayvalians who had power, position or money.

  Such was the way
the world works.

  “Hey, isn’t that Andel?” Aishan pointed out.

  Sure enough, it was Andel, with a group of his Academic friends occupying a table in a small tea shop. The Academicians were often clothed in a simple beige shirt and black pants, carrying large tomes of books, rushing from one school around Sedayval to another.

  “Let’s go somewhere else,” Shera said, unwilling to have a run in with Andel and his friends. The argument they had had the day before yesterday still weighed heavily in her mind.

  Poor Aishan. Shera wanted to tell her, but Aishan was sometimes a lost lamb of a girl. She was too easily

  impressionable and looked at people like Shera and Iman as inspiration. Telling Aishan about her argument would Andel would invite unnecessary questions.

  But it was too late. Aishan had already called out Andel’s name, and waved in his direction when he looked over. Shera groaned inwardly and stomached her acidic anger. She had not seen or heard from Andel since their argument.

  Andel too, was caught in an uncompromising position. He reluctantly waved them over, his eyes intently looking at Shera the whole time.

  “Come join us,” Andel’s friend invited the girls to sit at the empty chairs next to Andel.

  The two Young Acolytes sat with the Academicians, Shera in the middle of Andel and Aishan. Andel grabbed his cup of tea and settled his lips on its rim, taking his time to sip the hot beverage. He was intent on stalling the need to initiate a conversation with Shera.

  “What a parade!” one Academician gushed out. “To finally be able to see the Shando in this lifetime! I am so lucky.”

  Shera was glad for this topic. It gave her an opportunity to pursue the subject further. “You’ve not been to the eastern region of the continent?”

  The man, Andel’s friend that Shera knew only as Von, shook his head. His hair frizzed so greatly in the night humidity of Sedayval, it almost resembled a densely foliaged palm tree. “Amongst us all, only Andel’s been there. This guy’s got more balls than five dragons put together!”

  The other academicians laughed at the joke while Andel beamed with pleasure. He enjoyed the attention people granted him.

  “You must be excited too, Shera. Finally, you meet people who were from your mother’s hometown. What’s that like?” Von asked when the laughter died down.

  “Mixed emotions really,” Shera said. She was still thinking of the Shando delegate. A wave of guilt washed over her. Andel, her lover, was sitting beside her, yet all Shera could think was the feeling of gazing lovingly the whitish-greyish eyes of the Shando man.

  The conversation was kept light for the most part, until a smaller, meek academician suddenly spoke up. “Settle an argument for us, please. We were discussing something about the Priestesshood of Maan.”

  It seemed as if the young Academician had unearthed their earlier conversation in front of Shera and Aishan. Shera turned to Andel, who had a stunned look on his face, as though unwilling to be a part of this conversation.

  “Tell us. Maybe we can help?” Aishan’s eyes glowed brightly. To her, she felt that if people had a question about Maan, they were curious to know more about the goddess, rather than denounce it. Tonight, Shera thought, Aishan would probably learn the duality that ran within the city of Sedayval.

  “We were having an argument over the Jewel of Maan. According to Andel and Semi,” the boy continued, pointing at another academician sitting to the left of Andel, “the Jewel is a mere geomagnetic rock that powers the city and keeps us afloat. Von and I think that there is magic involved.”

  Shera smiled. Even amongst the academicians, they could not agree about the true nature of the Jewel of Maan. And that was easily explainable, for the Jewel of Maan laid miles within the heart of Sedayval, within the encasement of the floating rock that was the city.

  “So, which is it?” the boy asked, pushing the bridge of his glasses against his nose. He leaned forward, as though wanting an answer immediately.

  It was Aishan who answered. “Young Acolytes aren’t supposed to see the Jewel of Maan. That honor is only given to High Priestess Iktai.”

  “Hasn’t the High Priestess ever told you what the Jewel of Maan is? What powers it contains? What it even looks like?”

  “Only the High Priestess,” Shera repeated. “They are the only ones who have seen the Jewel of Maan that keeps this city alive.”

  “Then why don’t they say anything about how it looks?” Andel asked, much to Semi and Von’s excited nods. “Why not tell us what the Jewel of Maan actually looks like? Is it a coincidental piece of rock with geomagnetic properties, or does it actually contain magic?”

  The conversation began to get a little chaotic, anger filled.

  Andel went on about a tirade how the High Priestess of Maan has been spreading lies about Maan’s existence. And that it had to stop. Shera bit at her lip, unable to contain her anger.

  “If it truly exists, why not show it to us? Why hide something as magical as that?” He pointed to the entrance to the catacombs.

  Shera shook her head. She looked at Aishan who had a look of shock on her face, accompanied by a helpless tremble on her lips. “But… but Maan does exist. It gives power to us all. The runes, the magic.”

  “Magic does exist,” Von replied, his voice though a lot calmer than Andel’s, still on his friend’s side. “But the magic system does have its explanations too. Not Sedayval however. For three centuries, the Jewel of Maan has been kept hidden from all of us. Even from you.”

  “Shera, is this true?” Aishan asked, almost at the verge of tears.

  Shera ignored her and continued to fix her gaze at Andel. It was clear that Andel had instigated this conversation amongst the Academicians. The small wedge of disrespect the men had for the women undergoing Priestesshood was now very much significant.

  “It was Maan who created the Jewel of Maan, which gives this city its life, Andel,” Shera said softly.

  “Prove it,” he said with maddening superiority. “If Maan truly does exist, show us this Jewel of Maan that is so powerful.”

  Shera got up abruptly, causing the table and cups to rattle. Tea was spilled out of the cups where the iquid was filled to the brim. “Let’s go, Aishan.” The younger girl nodded and stood up, her quiet eyes unable to comprehend the nature of the conversation that had just taken place.

  Andel sat there now, still smiling at Shera, unwilling to apologize. “I am still waiting for an answer, Shera.”

  Shera, too angry to come up with a retort, stormed off with Aishan.

  *

  After seeing Aishan off to her home, Shera took the longer route to return home. She was in no hurry. Her father was not to return from Enmei until late night tomorrow or the morning after.

  If there was a competition for the Wonders of the World, Sedayval would have garnered the top most position. A floating mass of land, defying gravity and several laws of ancient physics, was the stuff of magic. And with magic came a lot of folklore.

  The story of Maan fighting for the exodus of her people was the tale of legends, and for years, it had been irrefutable. Shera had to concede, after her argument with Andel, that she too, understood a degree of his sentiments. Though many tales had been written of Maan’s descent from the heavens, there never were any pictures of her depicted in those century old scrolls.

  No artists had bothered to draw, document, sculpt, or write about her physical traits.

  The carvings of Maan were often depicted in the various forms of her vessels, the actual god herself was a mysterious being, abstract and nebulous, too complex for the simple human mind to comprehend. It was during her first date with Andel when he posed the question – Is it that Maan is too abstract to be conceived, or is it an excuse we give ourselves to blunt any curiosities people have of her existence?

  Shera felt ashamed. She had perpetuated Andel’s behavior. And in return, he had used her. She had told him of the rituals of the Priestesshood, something he took to proba
bly reporting to his fellow academicians. Inferences were probably made of Shera’s Priestesshood, and Andel had come to the conclusion that she was in fact living a lie.

  She looked around at the now quieter streets at the more middle class portions of the city. The doors were still kept open, but Shera knew that none of the delegates from Enmei, Xera and Shando would ever grace their presence at these parts of her city.

  So, nothing prepared her when Shera saw a Dragon Knight of Shando walking quietly along the street of her home. She stopped at the junction and saw the retreating figure of the Dragon Knight, recognizable by their traditional white garb. It was the same man she had found herself attracted to during the parade, tall, muscular with a short-cropped hair streaked in a line of red. His figure caught the beam of moonlight and he moved with a slow but sure gait along the streets, considering the open doors of the houses.