ACADEMY OF LIGHT

by RAVENC JAMES

  ACADEMY OF LIGHT

  RAVENC JAMES

  Copyright © 2021 RAVENC JAMES

  Academy of Light Copyright © 2021 Ravenc James

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  For permission requests, write to ravenk_james@outlook.com.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  AUTHOR'S NOTE

  About The Author

  CHAPTER 1

  Am. I. Dead?

  I could not remember dying, or at least how I got there, or here—I meant, the dying part—and for the life of me—ironically speaking—my mind seemed to have been swept clean. Completely empty of anything about my life—former life, that is. What was my name? Where did I come from? Do you know how scary that is to wake up like this? Freaking scary. It was terrifying. And as if this was not scary enough, I was also thrust into this place of complete darkness, so dark that I had no idea whether my eyes were open. Had been open. Did I open them? When did I open them? So frustrating. My hands could have verified it for me if only I could move them. This awareness at least directed my attention to the existence of my limbs, a reassurance that I was not missing any—small mercy. God, I must’ve been stoic when I was alive, subservient to pain and miseries. If this were, indeed, the afterlife, then I would want a return ticket back to the living. Please?

  Unless.

  I was not dead. Yet. Because by the look of it, I was about to get Grim-Reapered. The signs were all there: being in the dark, unable to move my limbs. And that feeling of closed confinement like, you know, being in a coffin? Buried alive?

  Don’t scream. Don’t scream.

  I said it over and over until something reverberated in my head, a voice chiming in.

  ‘Open your eyes, fledgling.’

  Easy to say. I’d already tried it.

  ‘Open your eyes.’

  The voice was insistent, and so I opened my eyes but immediately closed them back.

  Too bright.

  ‘Slowly, do it slowly.’

  Slowly I did, like a butterfly opening its wings in slow motion. My vision returned and was immediately assaulted by a blanket of whiteness, feeling like I had shrunk and gotten trapped inside a white box. So the coffin may be bigger? I also realized, somewhat belatedly, that I was lying on a moist and sticky white mud—think of wet flour. And right there, standing over me, was a being with eyes so blue that I was quickly mesmerized. His skin was glowing with bright golden color. But what fascinated me the most was the wing-shaped yellow light protruding from his back. An angel, perhaps? Which meant…

  “I’m Fide,” the winged creature said. “Now get up. Here, hold my hand.”

  I took the offered hand and pushed myself up to stand. My eyesight was adjusting. And as I surveyed my surroundings, I concluded that, perhaps, the idea of being trapped in the white box did not sound ludicrous after all.

  Except for this person talking to me, everything was white. White walls, white ceiling, and white ground, still sticky, though. Heaven seemed such a cliché. Still, I needed a confirmation.

  “Is this Heaven? And are you my welcome party?”

  Fide frowned. His gaze was sharp and assessing like the very mention of the word struck him completely. I stared back at him, waiting for his answer and getting curiouser by the second. It took a while before he found his voice. Thank the god?

  “Heaven is the ancient name of Ether. Only higher-level angels know that word. So it is perplexing to hear it from a fledgling like you. But regardless of my desire to delve into the source of your knowledge, it was not an excuse for me to tarry.” “So I take that as a yes, then. Well, since I’m in Heaven—”

  “You’re in Ether.”

  “You said they’re the same.”

  “I said it’s its ancient name.”

  “Same? Anyway, since I’m in Ether, does it mean I’m dead?”

  “No, fledgling, you’re not dead,” he said and then grinned, his eyes sparkling even more as if he were about to reveal something that would shock me to the core. “You’ve just been born.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Shaken to the core, indeed. I stared at Fide in a catatonic fog of disbelief. I did not know how long I was in such a state before I managed a reply to this preposterous statement.

  “Did you just say what I think you said?”

  Fide reacted with amusement. “Of course, I meant everything I said. Lying is counterproductive in Ether.”

  “Right, counterproductive. Whatever. I did not really mean to accuse you of lying, but it is just that I was not hearing you right. On my end, I seem to have heard you say…I just got born. Funny, right? My ears are probably not working right.”

  “Oh, they’re working quite marvelously since that’s exactly what I said.”

  “I heard exactly what you said?” I took in a gulp of air. “Including me who just got born?”

  “Yes, including you being a newly born angel.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Why is the idea incomprehensible to you?”

  “Because…” I paused to think.

  “While you’re thinking, let me dress you first.”

  Hold up, what? Dress me? But this Fide was quick. Even before I opened my mouth to ask what he meant by that, he had flicked his fingers. And just like that, I was clothed; yet still, I was not spared the embarrassment, though rather belatedly, of my previous state of nakedness.

  He smiled. “It’s all right. It’s expected from a newly born to be confused and disoriented.”

  “Are you sure I’m not dreaming?”

  This. Certainly, me dreaming was the only way this weird conversation would make sense because, even if I could not remember any of it, I knew I had a life before.

  “You were dreaming while you were in the Womb. Every infant angel does. But you’re fully aware now that you’re out of it.”

  “Womb?”

  “Right there.”

  I followed the direction he was pointing, and my brows knitted together.

  “No way.”

  “You stayed there until you were ready to be born. And while in there, you were dreaming.”

  The Womb he was referring to looked gray, moist, and muddy.

  “You’re saying I was buried in mud.”

  “Buried? No.” The expression on his face made it seemed like my choice of word offended him. “You were cradled.”

  I would not argue with him on the semantics when he looked like he was one hundred percent right and no room for doubt. But, unfortunately for me, it also meant that I needed to suck the truth up. I had been under that mud. Fo
r how long? Until I was ready to be born? My jaw must have locked, for I had difficulty closing my mouth. Then a realization came rushing to my head.

  “Talking!” I blurted out. “If I was just born, why can I talk? And why am I not a baby, or am I? Do you have a mirror?”

  He smiled again. Using his forefinger, he drew an imaginary rectangular box fitting my size. The box gained a dimension and protruded like being chiseled in the air. He flipped it back. And right in front of me, a mirror stood.

  I did not look old. I did not look like a child either. I was probably in my teens. My skin was creamy white but not even remotely close to Fide’s skin tone. My hair was long and fiery red. I did not have wings like Fide, but I was glowing. I blinked. My reflection blinked too. I peered closer at my reflection. My eyes were green.

  “Orieumber.” Fide’s voice came out in a whisper.

  “What?”

  “That’s your name.”

  “My name?” I felt a flutter in my heart. “Say that again and slowly, please?”

  “Oh…rih…ahm…ber.”

  “Orieumber,” I said, smiling. “It sounds pretty. Who gave me that name?”

  “I did. Or you did. When a fledgling is about to be born, a name flashes in my mind.”

  “Fledgling?”

  “Fledgling is a new angel. After you attend the Academy of Light, you will become a full-fledged angel.”

  I stared at him with my eyes big, hanging on to every word he said. I gulped and took a deep sigh.

  “Okay, so I’m a newborn angel.”

  “That is correct.”

  “And all angels were born in the mud—”

  “Womb,” he corrected.

  “Womb, I meant to say. And we were born in different sizes.”

  “Your birth form was fashioned by the Womb herself.”

  “I see. And I was born with the ability to talk.”

  “You’re talking in the fledgling-tongue. You cannot understand the angel-tongue unless you attain the required level of navi.”

  “Navi what?”

  He squinted his blue eyes at me as though he was assessing how much information he should reveal, or, in that matter, what I deserved to know.

  “Listen. You’re talking in fledgling-tongue, the angel’s first language. I can understand you because there are energies around us, and one kind translates every word you say. However, when you go to the academy, the books you will read there will appear incomprehensible unless it is within your navi-level.”

  “There’s that navi again.”

  “Navi is the energy you need in Ether. With a certain amount of navi, you can be able to speak and understand angel-tongue. It’s understandable that you have many questions, but you can’t find the answers here. We need to go. I need to take you to the Nursery before another delivery comes.”

  “What Nursery? What delivery?”

  “The Nursery Garden is where all the fledglings stay while they’re growing their navi.” Then his eyes sparkled in amusement. “And be careful with your questions, for every time you ask one, you’re losing a navi. What you have now is just enough for you to exist in Ether.”

  “You meant I’m at navi-level one,” I said teasingly.

  “No. You have navi-basic. Your navi-level is still zero,” he said, grinning.

  I frowned. It did not sound fair at all.

  “Let’s go,” Fide said. “I have to be back here for the next delivery.”

  Following him, we walked through endless rolls of white spheres. We must have covered a mile of it when he stopped and faced me.

  “Here.” He handed over a rainbow-colored stone. “Rub it.”

  I did as instructed, and the little stone on my palm turned into a blue smoke before disappearing completely. Warm air brushed my eyes; and for the first time since being awakened, I felt the air on my skin. I ran my gaze around and gasped.

  “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” I asked, laughing in excitement.

  Everything became colorful. The endless tunnel of spheres turned out to be a passage walled with slabs of colors—red, blue, and green—and divided by diamond arches.

  “Those arches and vaults were built by the creators,” Fide explained. And him giving away free information without a question? Color me surprised. But did he just say…

  Creators?

  If Heaven had a fly, it would not have had much trouble sneaking into my mouth.

  “Creators like gods?”

  “The Great Era of the Gods.” The ruefulness in his voice piqued my curiosity, but I refrained from blurting out any more questions. Not when Fide was inclined to share free information.

  Fide started walking again. While maintaining a few steps behind him, I followed his lead. When we reached the end of the tunnel, Fide turned around and pointed at the tunnel's opening.

  “Behold the Delta.”

  The melancholy in his voice was not lost on me.

  “No question here, but just a comment. This delta must be something special.”

  He smiled. He knew what I was doing. I was not asking a question.

  “It has its own special history, one that I can’t share.”

  My face scrunched up in annoyance.

  “Then you shouldn’t have mentioned it! Now I’m dying with curiosity.”

  He chuckled. “Ori, searching for the answers is what you live for on Ether. You feed on it until your energy grows to your full capacity. And then, when you have accumulated enough answers, you make a living out of it. You can trade it for an answer or an invention. It’s the currency and a way of life. Now, look around you.”

  While his words left me with a simmering interest in this bizarre culture of the angels, my eyes feasted on the beauty of my surroundings. Outside of the tunnel, the ground was a blanket of green grass dotted with glittering colors that I thought at first were flowers, but upon closer inspection turned out to be berries. They were in red, green, purple, pink, blue, yellow, and other colors whose names I could not recall. The sky was an entire sheet of white. Were they spheres?

  “Ether is made of five spheres floating above Constant,” Fide said as we strode on the soft green grass. “The highest sphere is called Primorium; below it is Secundarium; then Tertium. Below Tertium is Quartrium, the sphere where we are now and where I live.”

  I wanted to know where the rest of the angels were in Quartrium. It would be great to meet some of them.

  “This is Quartrium, got it,” I said instead. I’d learned not to ask.

  As though he could hear my thought—or he probably could—he suddenly stopped walking and turned to me with his probing gaze. Oh, if he could only read my mind, I would have a long list of questions thirsting for answers.

  “Below us is the sphere Quintium. It’s where we are headed,” he said, continuing his version of Heaven 101 lesson.

  I held his gaze as he continued to stare at me. Was he scanning my brain? I could have sworn I saw a fleeting look of suspicion grace his face. Was I in trouble already?

  Turning away from me, he resumed walking, which meant me in tow.

  Everything around me—from the soft grass that cushioned my bare feet to the air on my skin—felt alive, like they could all talk, yet I could not understand their language.

  It was an uneventful stroll in the garden—at least that was what I had thought until this happened. I sensed it first like a kind of imbalance in the rather well-tempered ambiance in the air, and then I instinctively looked up. The smooth surface of the white sky rippled, and then the ripples increased in size like huge furrows in a circular farmland. Its center spun and then swirled into a giant twister of white spheres. What came out of it was something my eyes were not prepared to see.

  A beautiful creature crowned with long glowing yellowish-green tresses flew out of it, riding on what appeared to be a gigantic butterfly. Her eyes were like a pair of suns, fiery and enchanting. Her shining green wings tripled her body size.

  “That is Emerald. She lo
rds over this garden,” Fide said. “Her ride is Berdi, her very own creation.”

  Emerald hovered past us, dipped, and disappeared into the giant sea of trees.

  “Look to our left. We’re on the right side of her garden. In the middle is a crown that is her chamber.”

  I turned my head to where Fide was pointing. Tall trees prevented me from seeing the crown.

  “They are not gods, but their presence is revered, as they are the closest to a god,” Fide said with amusement. There was a slight yearning in his voice. Seeing a god? The sentiment echoed in my mind.

  Heaven, I noticed, though bathed in colors, one color appeared predominant in each garden. As I looked ahead, the sky loomed lower, closer to the ground. Many more strides later, we reached the edge of the sphere.

  “And that’s our bridge to the lower sphere,” Fide said, pointing downward.

  Awe-stricken to the core of my bones, though I was no longer sure whether I still had one, the bridge was an endless series of descending steps. It was steep and looked mightily intimidating. And worst of all, it had no railings.

  “How far does this go?” I said, not even hiding my fear.

  “It is equivalent to a length of a garden.”

  Would Fide get mad if I decided just to make myself a tiny house on this side of heaven? I shook my head, blatantly showing him how terrified I was.

  He chuckled. “You’ll make it.”

  “What if I slip and fall?”

  “Then you will get injured or, at worst, die.”

  “Not very comforting at all. Will you miss me if I die from this ordeal?”

  “We haven’t spent that much time together to miss you, but I will never forget you. Come on. You can do this.”

  Although Fide did not give me the kind of pep-talk I needed at this time, I gingerly put one foot on the step and then the other. And nope. I was still scared. I needed something to hold, and since there was nothing, I used the step itself. In other words, I crawled.

  Descending the heavenly stairs, no matter the manner, did not prevent the storm from forming inside my stomach—whatever kind of stomach I had in this not-yet-angelic body. I was in constant battle with the ground that seemed to pull me down.