It was a world of nothing.
There was a strange kind of peace here. No conflict, no pain, but no love, no happiness either. And she had stayed like this for an eternity.
Somewhere, some time, a spark ignited her frozen world, setting it ablaze with heat. And she felt searing pain, everywhere. She never knew how cold her world was until she started to feel warm for the first time. She never knew how isolated she was, until she knew there was something else. And for the first time, the world felt cruel.
She had no body, no form. She was shapeless but she had a longing; a longing to be embraced by the new warmth that greeted her.
And this was enough.
She reached out, and all of the nothing she was, her entire world, imploded onto this single point.
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The searing cold she was once shrouded in slowly disappeared and spread out into a tingling warmth everywhere. It wasn't like the warmth of a hearth, she didn't feel it bearing down on her. Instead, it was the warmth of her body. It was the warmth of her own life and it pushed against the cold of the world around her.
White flakes chipped away, dissipating into nothing as they fell to the ground.
As they did, she began to see, to feel, and to hear things around her.
She heard something shatter.
Her eyes darted frantically, searching for a source. All she saw though, were figures shrouded in light. She looked on curiously as they too slowly flaked away.
Our light is the same. She thought. But we are not light.
Each fleeing flake revealed a new color—an increasingly clear form—a person. Her eyes settled on one whose light had exploded away, kicked apart and scattered by white feathered wings.
That must be what I am.
Stretching her wings out, she kicked away the light too. She watched as it dispersed into the sky, twinkling in her eyes as it danced in a whirlwind, and fed a sparkling galaxy above. She stared upward, hypnotized by the sea of light like her own, backdropped by complete darkness.
They’re faint and far.
If they're lights like mine… how many of me are there? She wondered.
She tried to pick out any single one, but she felt crushed under their quantity. They were all alike, but different. She had no pattern to grasp at, no reference to cling to. She was swept away by the sea of stars like her own and on her voyage, she eventually felt like she was nothing once again. A familiar coldness crept into her heart and she grasped at her chest.
The brothers and sisters of her kind were waking up, taking their first curious steps, yet she felt frozen. One of them peered closely at flowers dotted around the courtyard. An inner conflict seemingly boiled inside him as he considered plucking a golden tulip. Another unfurled her wing in front of herself and began gently caressing it with a satisfied look. Another angel approached her gingerly and ran her fingers through the girl’s snowy wings too, only to receive an appalled look from the girl and a deeply guilty face of her own. Little moments like these sprinkled the golden courtyard they stood on. And amongst polished, ordered architecture, surrounded by a garden of radiant flowers, they added a décor of life to complement an otherwise silent beauty.
Strangely though, she felt cold. It was a coldness that believed that she was not part of this, part of them—that this world was different from her. It didn't feel real, like it was just suspending that nothing she had experienced for so long only temporarily. Just as this feeling was sweeping over her, she felt an overbearing gaze bore into her, and she returned to the world.
Her eyes were pulled toward a woman atop a marble throne. Its edges branched out and weaved a pointed crown that enveloped her gold sheened form. Her red eyes were aflame with an unwavering confidence. And as they held their gaze on her, they carried a hint of curiosity.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
The throned woman unfurled from behind her, 6 golden wings from her back and 2 on the sides of her head. With her eyes only barely separating from the poor shaking girl she was just gazing at, she stood up. In a booming voice she called out.
“Dormant souls of the stars, I, Ira, Goddess of the light and Queen of its domain in the heavens have borne you from my light and brought you life.”
She opened her arms, as if to hold them in her embrace.
“Come forth, little lights, angels, and I will name you.”
The trembling angel girl from before felt something familiar. It was the warmth she had first longed for. The kind she had reached out for to come here. Except now this warmth was in her heart. Red flushed her cheeks and sparkles filled her eyes. The weight of this new feeling felt too heavy, even for her legs, and she dropped to the ground.
The rest of the angels too, fell under the pressure of the Goddess, although likely for a different reason. It was like a gust of wind suddenly pushed them backwards and to the ground. For the moment, they were like lambs, learning to walk for the first time.
“I think that’s enough, your majesty. I don’t think you want to petrify them.”
An angel beside the goddess remarked. His voice was a soothing reprieve from the relentless pressure that room had endured. He was dressed in a sharp black suit and wore a crown of blood red roses. His eyes were baggy, but his look was serene. His white wings were a tousled mess with rebellious feathers and gray streaks that whispered of the world that changed them.
She folded her wings in single motion, as if recoiling from what she just did.
“Thank you Sofiel, I got… a little carried away. Fresh new faces in heavens, they’ll make the realm strong, protect what we have, and they’ll find their dreams somewhere along the way.”
“Not if you petrify them, you forget yourself your majesty, the young are more fragile than your affection. I hardly imagine any of them will approach now.”
The brief silence that followed seemed to prove Sofiel was right, but it only took time and a single meek angel stepping forward to prove otherwise. In his hand he held a single golden tulip close to his chest and stopped just before the queen. His wings were an innocent pristine white. He had blonde hair with dark streaks and his irises were yellow with a thin black ring that pulled a deep look from his eyes.
The queen held a warm smile that beamed with pride, not just in herself, but in the one who braved to walk before her. The way she spoke always sounded slightly smug, like she was holding back some irresistible secret.
“Little light, do you remember anything?”
“I remember… a field of flowers, blooming. They were golden and beautiful. They had grown over something—someone I had once loved who was forever gone. And so I plucked one to remember them.” His voice was gentle and its emphasis meandered as he considered his own words carefully.
“This is not the same flower, but it’s all I could find. I’m sorry if I wasn’t supposed to take it.”
“I’ll allow it. It doesn’t mean much to me and means far more to you. I’ll name you Antheiel, my flower.”
With the flick of a finger a halo hovered above him and he raised one hand to feel it.
“This is a gift from me, it will guide you on your journey, and help you remember.”
This interaction left a certain sparkle eyed angel a bit confused. She had wanted to talk to the goddess, but unlike them she had no memories of flower fields or someone she had loved so dearly being buried beneath them. So she hesitated, and she looked on as angels one after another were named.
One remembered falling upwards towards the sky until the stars caught her like a net, and there she painted shapes with them for an eternity. Seraphim.
Another recalled lightning that was his friend and they played a game of tag together, dodging each other like touch meant death. Ramiel.
And yet another remembered floating down a morose stream that carried the silhouettes of people he recognized but could not remember. Raphael.
Again and again, more of these stories filled the air, and names were returned, and each one confused her more and more because she had no story. Her confusion continued to mount, each story was a brick onto a wall. It stopped her from moving forward until it got so tall—it collapsed under its own weight. It was too much, and so finally, she stepped forward.
She stopped in front of the queen. Large steps of marble separated them into two different worlds. As she looked up into the queen's scarlet eyes, their searing resolve seemed to swallow all her thoughts, except for one. It was that feeling of warmth in her heart before. Admiration.
“Little light, do you remember anything?”
“...I do not, your majesty… only the warmth that brought me here.”
The queen furrowed her brows, seemingly confused.
“Warmth…? Sariel, has this happened before?”
His eyes darted to the side.
“No your majesty. Not for as long as I’ve been here.”
She pondered, bringing her hands to her face. “I wonder why… while all the other angels were bringing worlds to life, she was content to be nothing.”
The angel’s heart sank. The warmth in her heart was gone and it felt parched and weak. She started to tremble.
“I… I just didn’t know that I could-”
Sariels eyes darted to her, she hadn’t noticed it before, but they looked cold and empty. Like time and turmoil washed away what was behind them. He spoke in a low but sharp tone. “Don’t speak out of line.”
The angel dropped to her knees immediately and her heart ached as she held back her tears.
The queen sighed and she put a hand to her temple. “Sariel, you reminded me how fragile they were and then you do this?”
He looked to the ground with a guilty face. “She’s perfectly fine.”
“You and I are going to have to have a talk later.” She lamented.
A bead of sweat began to form on his forehead.
“Little light, it does not matter that you don’t remember anything. You are a primordial soul; in time, you’ll remember the world, and you’ll live a life of your own. I just have to figure out your name.”
She crossed her legs, and rested her chin on her right hand as she stewed over it.
“Since you remember nothing, I will name you Mevakiel, the one who seeks. Find the memories you never had, little light.” With a flick of her finger, a halo formed above Mevakiel’s head. A gift from the goddess that showed her warmth for the first time, a gift that also showed her a brand new feeling. Gratitude.