House Of Legions (The Angel Descendants book 1)

Chapter 38 (Clare)

She recalled the guy in the robe, as she changed into her own, pantyless, luckily for her perky breast, she didn’t really procure a bra. There was some connection she felt when he spoke to her, a loosening in her threshold. It wasn’t like the tension in the room with Kalbreal, the lust, she felt for forbidden fruit. She had rethought his words, over and over again, a silent mantra, “That princess is for you to decide.”

The words lingered in her head, a passing memory. A small spark of something sizzled in her veins too microscopic to name.

***

Dressed in a full red robe, Kalbreal waited for her. He deliberately raked up her body ever so slowly, pausing when he reached her lips, “A true Lightwatcher, no doubt.”

Clare brushed the unwanted feelings that hummed in her body, “Thanks,” was all she could say before he opened the door. Turning around but facing his head to the side as if trying not to look at her while he spoke, he gestured, “Tie your hair, you look too distracting for the others.”

Baffled by his gravel voice she asked, “Is that your idea of a compliment?”

He didn’t answer, instead, he turned and walked away leaving the door open behind him. That was a dismissal, she guessed Angel-boy didn’t like to be questioned.

Well if he was going to ignore her, so would she. The door slammed shut, she went down the narrow hallway. Caidrian caught her arm, the grip firm but not sore, “You look good, but tie your hair up it’s a crescent ceremony, not a wedding Clare.” © 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and begrudgingly knotted her locks up in a bun. From the corner of her eye, she caught Alonso staring at her, secretly smiling from the end of the passageway.

Alonso, Nadia and Caidrian wore a red robe, whilst Nathan the only other one dressed in white. All left the castle together making their way slowly further into Khiron. It was easily past seven by now, but the realm still looked bright, the skies darkness overhead, from where a beam of light shadowed the city, like sparkling diamonds of pearlescent light glittering in the air.

She spoke to Alonso who walked next to her, “What is that light up there, it’s beautiful,”

He smiled, not looking at her, “Well, I like to think of this realm as the city of lights, those are protective seals.” He said pointing to the dazzling glimmer, “Souls of Lightwatchers, it’s like fragments of their souls falling around us, they do that all the time, but at night, you just see it better.”

“The souls never lose its lights, so that’s like dust from it?”

He nodded his head, “You catch on quickly for a newbie. I never had a chance to tell you.”

She looked up at Alonso, his long hair falling on his nape, he was a few inches taller than Kalbreal, and almost twice Angel-boys size, Clare was happy he was one of the ‘good guys, “Tell me what Alonso?”

He looked at her as they walked behind the others, his Asian blood seemed to be more prominent in the dark, causing the olive undertone of his skin to give him an almost dreamy look.

“I’m sorry for the loss of your mother, her name shall echo as a hero in Aquadore mountain, and her soul shall be the brightness in the darkest of hours.”

She didn’t really understand what he said, but it sounded pleasant and remorseful, “Thank you, Alonso,”

They approached the ceremonial grounds, with small fires marking the corners. Groups of unfamiliar people scattered across, all dressed in different attire, but still respectable.

She noticed a few of the people, the ones who walked together muttering in a foreign tongue, all wearing red robes with golden links of rope tired around the waist holding the garment closed.

Their skin shimmered in their unnatural fairness, and as she got closer to them she focused on their hair, which was a bright shining white, or platinum.

Her first thought was Angels, before she said anything, she caught a glimpse of their eyes. They were black, but not like Isades was, these had SO much hatred in them, her bones jittered.

Nathan startled her, by clicking his fingers in front of her eyes, she snapped out of her mind, “Hey, I didn’t see you there.”

“Don’t stare, they’re Elvan, from the 4th realm, Safiereal, the shimmering on their skin is just a hoax, to piss the Caster’s off. They would look just like us if it weren’t for the white hair and fake diamond teeth.” She gave him an incredulous look, which earned her one of his rare smiles, “On second thought, scratch that, they are just freaky, but Calub stands them so.” He shrugged

She looked at him, curiosity marked her gaze, but she was only caught by part of his sentence- “There are other realms?”

He put his arm on her shoulder, and part of his wrist bands dug into her skin. She dropped her eyes to the floor and back at him, he was dressed just like her, and his dark green eyes a stark reflection of her own, but jealousy seeped in by the obvious features of her mother, she pushed it away.

He was taller and more muscular than she remembered from the day before, especially since he put his arm around her, she could feel the weight drag her down, but she liked it, she needed to hug someone, especially someone who reminded her of her mother.

“Sister, sister, there are many realms, eleven to be exact, but we only have an alliance with five others, Elvan, as you’ve seen, the Shapeshifter’s,” he said pointing to a group of men. One of them stood out, with a tattoo on his face, but all of them possessed dark blue hair, shocking or metallic, it showed brightly even in the firelight.

The shapeshifters wore dark green robes with beads of white around their necks, some of them were fair skin, others dark like Asian, she recognized the appearance from earlier when they’d attacked her and Caidrian. Those were dead, most of them beheaded to be more precise, except the one.

Clare swallowed her saliva as if water dripped in her mouth, as the memory of the Shapeshifter in the hands of the faceless man, surfaced. The man who held her mind captive, by seven simple words, who was he.

Her body waited to be recalled by the hooded stranger as if her senses were intertwined to seek him out, her eyes darted involuntarily across the lake, she saw… him, a figure, staring across the lake. She knew it was him, every sense of her body awakened, as the very reason she was there in the first place left her.

He stood directly opposite her but in this case, he was unreachable, a little too far. She withdrew herself away from the foreign stranger knowing that it was pointless to strain her eyes so far when she could hardly see him, even if her body yearned for it. A small voice whispered in her ear, “He would come to you.”