“Hold up, what?”

“You’re probably going to be released today.”

“No, not that.” Leta sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, “A Priestess? A Priestess of what?”

Afra looked at her quizzically, then sighed as if she’d just realized she’d forgotten something, “Right, you’re new to this. Sorry. Goodness, where to start…” She took a moment to sort her thoughts before looking back up, “Okay, so you were in a life-and-death situation, right?”

Leta blew out a breath “Like, every ten minutes.”

Afra snorted but continued, “And while this whole thing was going on, you had a vision, right?”

“Uh, yes?”

“So, there are two kinds of Arisen: those that have a vision when they ascend and those that do not. The vision that you experienced is in direct connection to your class, which is determined by the sum of your talents - Talents are what we refer to as your powers.” Afra interrupted herself as she realized she was leaving out key details.

She continued, “Talents come in all shapes and sizes. See the future, be super fast or strong, able to control different elements, blend in with the shadows, make flowers bloom; you get the idea. Anyway, your talents decide your class, and what your class can do or is about is reflected in the vision you have during your ascension. Following so far?”

“I guess.” Leta nodded, taking a cautious bite of her vegetables.

[40 inert Nanites consumed.]

‘Wow, this stuff is really, really good.’ she thought to herself.

Afra waved her hand dismissively, “Anyway, back to the two types of Arisen. There are those like us who have a vision when we ascend, who are called the Chosen. Then, some don’t have a vision when they ascend and call themselves the Blessed. You’ve unfortunately had a few run-ins with their kind.”

Leta paused, “The monsters?”

“Bingo.” Afra smirked, “Most of the Blessed have a taste for eating Chosen but will happily munch on Mundanes, and the Chosen consider it their duty to protect the Mundane and rid the world of Blessed. The classic ‘I hunt you, you hunt me’ relationship. You got a chance to see that last night, unfortunately.”

“Why are they called Blessed and Chosen?”

The nurse shrugged, “There’s some theological debate, but the general idea is that the chosen derive from ancient Demi-gods and were ‘chosen,’” She said with hands making quotation gestures, “To guard the human race from the shadows against some great evil. Legend has it that some of the more nefarious Demi-gods got hold of something they weren’t supposed to touch, and, well, it didn’t go well for them. The gods turned them into monsters, every one of them. But these guys didn’t see it as a curse, quite the opposite, actually. They saw themselves as free from the perceived shackles of their lineage, so they started calling themselves the Blessed. And, well, we’ve been at each other’s necks ever since.”

Leta swallowed a bite of her sandwich, looking over the nurse quizzically. “Demi-gods?”

“That’s one of the most widely believed explanations.”

She took her fork and stabbed her vegetables. “What do you believe?”

“Me?” Afra grinned, “I dunno. This isn’t some Percy whatever-the-heck-his-name is book. Saying that we’re decendents from gods seems a little blasphemous. Still…”

She trailed off, entirely looking to the side before raising her hand.

Leta watched in shock and fascination as tiny flames appeared like magic around her open palm, flicks of fire wrapping around her fingers like serpents.

The nurse turned her hand back and forth, watching the flames dance over her skin with a look of calm wonder.

“It’s hard to do the impossible yourself and not think there’s some sort of divine work at play, no?” Her question hung in the air as she made a fist, the fire extinguishing as quickly as it came.

“Wow…” Leta breathed in awe. Besides herself and the Blessed, she’d never seen anyone do anything supernatural. “That was…”

Afra smirked, “Like I said, there are all kinds of talents. Mine revolve around fire creation and manipulation.”

She frowned, “What class are you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Not at all. I’m what’s called a Hearth Maiden. Remember, the Chosen are supposed to lead and protect the Mundane as best they can from the shadows while following the rules. But also keep in mind that these classes are old. If we were working with AI computers, these guys were working with cave paintings to give you an example of how antiquated some of these classes are. That being said, mine is what’s called a Hearth Maiden. Supposedly, the Hearth Maidens provided heat for households, kept buildings lit at night, and also provided fire for ceremonies and lit the forges for the smiths.”

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“However,” She exclaimed with a mischievous grin, “You’re going to learn that it’s not about what your class used to be about. It’s how you use your talents that’s important. Being able to control fire means I can casuterize wounds and sense flammable materials, which is important in a hospital, right?”

“Between you and me,” She leaned in as if she was going to tell an important secret, “If there was a large enough fire, I could turn it into a miniature firestorm and suck the air out of a building. I’m not saying I would, but in our line of work, it’s always good to have a trump card.”

“Oh, that’s terrifying.” Leta’s smile was that of someone trying to appease a crazy person.

“Anyway, I’m inquisitive about you.” Afra put an elbow on her knee and tapped her chin with a finger, “You’ve got this place absolutely buzzing.”

She frowned, “Why?”

“Oh, let’s see… Successfully fought a Nixie as a proverbial newborn, then pushed back a Siren with a word, paralyzed a Hell Hound, and turned a Minotaur literally to dust with a storm.” Afra counted them on her fingers, “All in about 24 hours. Come on! How could you not make people lose their minds?”

“You control fire.” Leta pointed out.

“And you controlled a lightning storm. A literal force of nature.” Afra gave her a look that said, ‘Oh honey, please,’ “Give yourself some credit.”

“Is that so unique? I mean, you control flames. That just boggles the noddle.”

Afra beamed, “Why thank you. And yes, the combination of your talents is unheard of. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if no one’s ever heard of a class like yours - I certainly haven’t. Go down the list with me, will you? Maybe I’ll narrow it down.”

“You mean my list of- what did you call it? Talents?”

Afra nodded, smiling and sitting nicely like an eager student.

Leta shook her head, “Okay. Um, I guess you could say lightning is my big one.”

“Kind of hard to miss.”

“I can also do something called Persuasion. That’s what I used on the Siren and the Hell Hound.”

The nurse pursed her lips in thought. “I think some more political classes have something like that, but they’re not elemental talents. What else?”

“I can do this.” Leta focused on her plastic cutlery, which rose into the air, hanging above her meal as if gravity had been switched off.

“Woah!” Afra exclaimed, getting up from her chair to get a better look at the spork that was slowly turning in the air, just like one would imagine on the International Space Station. Carefully, she plucked it from the air and examined it but couldn’t feel any changes in its mass.

She held her hand out, and Leta made the spork rise into the air before slowly setting it down on the plate.

“That is so trippy.” Afra giggled, pulling her hand back and holding it to her chest when the plastic cutlery left her hand.

“There’s gotta be others that can do that, right?” Leta raised an eyebrow as she took a bite of the sweet bread.

“I mean, yeah, but those are the heavily mental and magic-based classes. Magician and Alchemist, I think.” Afra scowled, her earlier wonder at Leta’s display of power turning to confusion. “But elemental classes can’t do that, and certainly not the political classes. Anything else?”

“Uh…” Leta thought momentarily before responding, “Oh, I can understand any language after listening to someone speak it. I can see well in the dark, almost like daytime. Also, if I focus I can tell when someone is lying to me, but I’ll be honest, no one’s essentially lied to me since I arose, so I haven’t done much in testing that out.”

Afra scratched her head, becoming even more confused with each talent Leta listed. “Nothing you’re saying makes any sense. Lie detection is possible with some of the civil classes like Judges, and night vision is a skill that only Hunters have. And then linguistic skills are reserved for Scribes. None of these talents are things that work together with each other.”

She shook her head, stumped. “For my life, I have no idea what all that adds up to. Maybe we can get a clue. Do you remember the vision you had when you ascended? Can you describe it?

Leta pursed her lips, memories of that moment in her life surfacing along with the echos of pain and agony as the system entered her body.

Silver wings.

A flash of blue light.

A temple of white marble cloaked in shadows.

A silver angel haloed in starlight.

The light of a new day dawning on a world that burned in ruin.

“I saw an ancient world,” She intoned, lost in the memory of what she’d seen, “And dead language written in stone, but it was too fuzzy for me to remember. There was a white-haired angel and a crown made of silver and white with blue gems…”

A noise from Afra snapped Leta from her memories. The nurse was looking at her wide-eyed in shock, her mouth opening and closing in shock like a fish out of water.

“Holy…”

“What?” Leta snapped, “Is that bad?”

“N-no! I mean, maybe. Wow…” Afra stuttered. Her face had visibly paled at what Leta had described.

She swallowed loudly, eyes wide as she slowly asked, “Who was wearing the crown? Was it you?”

Leta paused, her mind aching as she tried to remember.

It was like pulling out a diamond lost in quicksand as she grappled with the memory as if her subconscious had intentionally buried it.

Slowly, the edges of the vision began to clear.

The silver-white hair, the pale white skin, the runic symbols of power etched into her skin over her cheeks and down her arms and legs.

Her skin.

She could see herself in the outline of her face, the curve of her eyebrows, the set of her lips, and how she held her head high.

It was her, Leta, but it also wasn’t here.

The angel in her vision was tall and athletic but not bulky, her physique similar to that of an Olympic swimmer. The hair was silver-white instead of her honey blonde and very long, coming down to the small of her back instead of where it was around her shoulders.

But the most important features were her opal eyes that flickered with different colors in their irises and a pair of massive silver wings that protruded from her back.

The wings were grand but odd. They were relatively shaped like a bird’s, but they looked almost metallic. Instead of the normal webbing and plumage of a normal feather, these feathers were flat and rather sharp looking, an odd white-blue light emanating from their edges and layered over each other like loose-scaled chain mail.

The longer Leta held the vision in her mind, the more precise the vision of her angelic self came to her as if everything else had faded away.

“Me.” She whispered. “It’s me. I’m wearing the crown.”

[Monarch.] Gada said in a nearly reverent tone, [One who rules above all.]