After I broke down a week ago when we were supposed to clean our jewelry, Mom decided we would continue today. We just had dinner, and here we are again in our basement.

We talked about my upcoming birthday this week, and I already told them that Josh and Leroy will be spending their vacation here with us. Thankfully, Mom and Pa agreed, but, of course, that won't go too well without Nick's annoying comments. I just ignored it!

After this cleaning session with Mom, I plan to contact Alice.

Mom looked at me and took a deep breath. She lit four blue candles and another four white candles, then opened a bottle of lavender and citrus essential oil.

Okay, why does she need those?

Then she started cleaning our things with a cleaning solution.

Oh well, Mom is so dramatic.

I was about to sit down when Mom held my arms and stopped me. Quite confusing, but I remained standing by her side. After a few minutes of cleaning our jewelry, she moved the cleaning solution, then took a silver bowl and poured the lavender and citrus essential oil into it.

Intriguing!

I remained silent and observant. Mom handed me a small golden notebook. I looked at it and then turned to her.

"What is this?"

"Open it to the page that I clipped."

I nodded and followed her instructions.

Okay, I know I can read, but what the heck is this?

Frowning, I looked at Mom and was about to complain when she spoke abruptly.

"Repeat after me."

"Tha mi a 'sireadh comraich bhon dorchadas, bhuaibh dìon gràdhach, a Dhia ghràdhaich."

Hmm? What?

I couldn't follow; I didn't know how to read the passage in the notebook or how to pronounce it.

"My dear, open your mouth and listen carefully," Mom said with a smile.

"It's not funny, Mom. What language is this?"

"The sun is about to set; we will have some visitors. We need to discuss a lot of things after this."

Now I'm confused about what the heck she means by that.

I nodded and tried to concentrate.

"Tha mi a 'sireadh comraich bhon dorchadas, bhuaibh dìon gràdhach, a Dhia ghràdhaich," Mom whispered, and I tried my best to pronounce each word, even though it sounded off in my hearing. After I read it, I saw Mom look at me and smile, then she touched my bracelet, and something illuminated from it.

My eyes grew bigger—what the heck is that? Once Mom removed her hands from my bracelet, it left a twinkling effect.

I looked at Mom with wide eyes, but she ignored me and continued with her chants.

"Bheir mithatt m 'anail agus earbsa airson sìorraidheachd," she softly whispered, and I tried my best to pronounce each word. This time she held Nick's earring, and the same thing happened.

"Ar dòchas

Ar gràdhAn neach-dìon againn."

We continued the chant, and I felt something cold and warm fill my body. Mom let me touch our jewelry along with the oil in the bowl. It felt warm, and the smell was sweet.

"Ar creideamh

An solas againnAr Dia, gu bràth."

Mom continued, and I just followed her lead. While I was touching the jewelry along with the oil, Mom said something, and all the candles' lights died, as if blown away.

But the feeling was still there. Mom took the jewelry and placed it in a basket and turned to me.

"That book, my dear, is yours. It is important that you know everything in it."

She said, fixing the table where we did the "cleaning." I followed her with my gaze, still unable to believe what I had witnessed.

"Mom...?"

"Yeah?" she said, still busy tidying up.

"Are you a witcher?" I asked her, feeling a bit silly.

"A what?" Mom looked at me with a frown.

"A witcher? Like a witch?" I asked. I saw Mom smile at me and urge me to sit down.

"I am not a witch, my dear. Well, I wish I were," she smiled and sat in front of me. I just stared at her, waiting for her explanation.

She asked for my hand and put my bracelet on it. I saw a small earring, like Nick's, but a smaller version. I hadn't noticed it earlier when we were cleaning.

She slowly put my bracelet on my left hand and smiled at me.

"It's already 3 in the afternoon; I guess by 7 we are done with this," Mom said casually, and I was still greatly confused.

"Done with what?" I asked while checking my twinkling bracelet; it was so beautiful.

"With what I am going to explain to you. Nick will take care of your brother, and Papa will take care of everything." She said after placing the small basket on the table beside her.

"Okay, should I prepare myself?" I asked, taking all of this as a joke. Well, maybe Mom will teach me some of her little voodoo stuff. I sure need that to create some potion for myself.

I smiled at that thought.

"Well, what you need to prepare is to have an open mind about it and always remember, you are not alone in this. You have all of us."

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

She said seriously, and I couldn't help but get nervous. Again, I saw Mom smile, but this time her smile was a little sad, which I didn't understand.

I sat silently in front of her for a couple of minutes, but she was just staring at the ring in her hand. Her wedding ring, the one that Papa gave her. I groaned softly to gain her attention.

She looked at me as if she had just realized I was with her. I smiled at her and wiggled my brows, trying to lighten the mood.

"I believe you are about to tell me something, right?" I playfully stated.

She looked at me, sensing the sincerity in my words.

"Well, you are about to turn eighteen, right?" She started, and I nodded.

"I... honestly don't know how to start this without making it seem like... it's a joke," I heard her say.

"Why don't you just try it, Mom, so we will know," I encouraged her.

I wasn't sure if I should be alarmed by her words or what.

Is she going to confess that we have another sibling? That Papa has another family? Or are they going to have a divorce?!

Now I was nervous.

"Okay, let's start with this..." She took a deep breath and looked straight into my eyes.

"Your Papa is an angel, or as some call it, angelic face."

I didn't reply to what she said; I was just staring at her, not moving, even my eyeballs!

I was trying to convince myself that she had talked, but it seemed like my mind was not accepting it.

"Ah... okay... yeah, Papa is an angel. I mean, he is Godsent, Mom," I replied, smiling.

But I didn't hear Mom respond. When I looked at her, she was staring at me with a pained look in her eyes.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Papa is Godsent to us, not just figuratively, but literally," she said with a straight face.

I didn't know how to respond to that. I sat up properly and put my back against the chair, as if bracing myself for something I wasn't prepared for.

"Your father is a descendant from a bloodline of an angel named Azrael."

"Azrael?... that sounds familiar," I murmured.

"He is known to be the Angel of Death." Mom said, waiting for me to react, but I didn't know... really, what the heck should I say, so I just listened.

"Hand me the book, my dear. Let me read you the story that's inside." Mom softly said as I gave her the small golden book she had given me earlier.

Before she started reading, she looked at me and touched my arm that was resting on the armrest.

"Please keep an open mind about this," she whispered, and I weakly smiled at her, urging her to continue. Slowly, she turned the pages of the book and gazed one more time at me.

"They said that this angel, Azrael, is one of the four angels that roam the Earth. He is the one manning the angels that deliver souls to their final destination. It's been that way since the beginning of time." Mom said as she read from one of the pages of the book. She looked at me and continued reading.

"One day, Azrael decided to roam the Earth and fetch some souls. He went to different parts of the Earth. He saw how humans stumbled upon their feet and succumbed to greed and anger. A rise of a beggar took an act of revenge on his brother, the birth of a child, and the death of men. It was his last few hours on Earth, and he sent all the souls to the afterlife for their journey and judgment.

He saw these four people—a woman with three children. They were seated in their old chairs at a clean and decent dining table. The woman was talking animatedly to the younger children, while the eldest, who faced Azrael by the open window, was grinning at the woman along with the children.

He was fascinated by this small group from the East. They had no riches in this house, just plain and simple. He looked at each person at the dining table; they all wore simply worn-out clothes. He gazed at the woman, who wasn't wearing any makeup, her face pale and dull, but her eyes reflected one of the most beautiful souls Azrael had ever seen.

Slowly, he walked towards the window, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Fascinating.

He whispered to himself. Then, at the corner of his eye, he saw the eldest child look his way. As if seeing him at their window, gawking like a bewildered hawk.

The eyes that looked at him were the purest blue—innocent yet strong.

Powerful...

He looks back at the eldest child, thinking if the girl can see him, they stare at each other for a full minute. Then the girl blinked and looked back to the people with her, then the voice of a man boomed inside the house. A man walks out from a room holding a huge bowl, steam rising from it.

He heard the children cheer and the woman smile at the man.

A family...

He stays in this small house for a couple of hours, even though he should have left hours ago. He is beyond happy to find a treasure in this corrupted world.

Mom paused for a moment and looked at me. I did not talk nor ask anything; I was so into her story that I wanted to grab the book and read it for myself.

"Azrael left the house after the family decided to call it a night. Even after he had reached his home, he could not fathom what he had witnessed. So he decided that he would pay a visit to this family once a year. He wanted to know if this family would change over time, once they dealt with more difficulties and hardship as life may bring them."

The woman's hair turned gray, with every visit Azrael pays them. But the beauty in her eyes is still intact. The man, whose body was the epitome of strength, slowly faded away, as the two young boys are now grown up as if they steal their strength from their father. And the eldest child, the girl, is now a young woman.

Azrael was quite surprised to see the changes; he couldn't explain why he was so attached to this family. As if there was a powerful force dragging his wings back to this land.

Whenever he was there, he could see that the girl or the young woman was looking his way. One afternoon, the girl was alone in the house, her father and mother went to the market, while her siblings were at the farm, tending to their root crops and their sheep.

Azrael decided to go inside the small house and sit on the chair at the dining table, while the girl was preparing some soup. He carefully studied the girl, who had turned into a woman in front of him, on how she meticulously peeled the vegetables.

"So you have decided to come inside."

The girl whispered while still doing her chores. Azrael was astonished at what he had heard. He did not reply but stared at the young woman in front of him.

"Are you voiceless? Or unhearing?"

The girl asked now looking straight into Azrael's eyes.

Azrael's void of any emotions stared blankly into the woman's eyes.

"I will take it that you are both."

The woman continued with what she was doing and did not attempt to talk to him anymore. He lingered for a few more hours, following everything that the young woman was doing around the house. Until the family of the young woman returned, he elected to leave.

As he walked through the door, approaching the tree by the house, he heard the young woman's voice once again.

"Will you return tomorrow or the same day in the following year?"

The woman asked Azrael.

Slowly he turned his gaze to this woman. Azrael looked at her, stunned.

Her shoulder-length brown hair was delicately placed on her right shoulder. She was wearing the clothing that she and her mother patiently embroidered a few months ago.

She had grown up into an astonishing young woman, her blue eyes which were enigmatic in his eyes years ago seemed to grow older and wiser but still held the innocence it had before. Eyelashes gifted to her by God when she was born, to make sure that her eyes wouldn't hurt too much if tears were shed. But of course, those lips would not shut up until her younger siblings followed whatever she willed.

Slowly he walked towards the young woman and spoke for the first time.

"You can see me."

"Right, I can see you."

"How?"

He asked while standing in front of the young woman, irritated by that fact.

"I do not know... I always see you, ever since the night that you wandered around our home, a few years ago."

He could not understand how this young woman, this human could see him, even talk to him. Humans could not hear, see, or even talk to them. Felt, yes, some of them could feel them, but it was still quite a mystery. He did not know how to interact with this human, but when he looked into her eyes, he could see so many emotions.

Fear, excitement, and admiration.

With these emotions swirling through her eyes, her soul peeked through, letting him take a glimpse of its true beauty.

Azrael smiled, not at her but with her soul.

I will be the one to collect you, multum mean (my little soul).

"I will be back by the following falls."

With that, he turned his back to the young woman and disappeared into the night.