The confessional booth zapped into a lobby in an entire dimension out of this world. Sara stepped out into the room filled with guards watchful in who appeared at the entrance. A bronze dome was beautifully painted with Choirs wearing white ropes and golden ties, playing harps up in a blue sky with white fluffy clouds.
Sara passed a reception desk where a Choir sat on duty. Guards gave a bare glimpse at her bloody state as she walked by them. Prowlers were leaving the same confessional booth, some covered in blood and others spotless from their missions.
She swung the double doors open and strode out of the lobby. Bold letters above the doors read: The Harmony Sanctum. The glass hallway was connected to the main building. Patios were against each side of the exterior walls and arches provided cover for the sunny or rainy day.
The glass hallway showcased outside parking garages where every car had an assigned parking slot. Acres of vast greenery land gave Harmonies plenty of forestry to walk in, train on the soft grass, have bountiful picnics, or mingle peacefully around.
Swirling white marble completed the hallway. Sara’s boots clacked on the floor and echoed with satisfaction. She opened another set of glossed glass doors, entering another lobby.
Yet this lobby was much more sophisticated than the last one. Moonlight spilled inside, the big moon shining on a humongous window. Against the windows, white sofas were arranged near birch side tables where Harmonies lounged.
The Prowler continued her way up a flight of glass spiral staircases against the window wall. A janitor frowned from below because she left a trail of bloody footprints. There should’ve been a doormat to wipe her shoes on before going inside the impeccably clean sanctum.
Turning a corner and going through the doors, she came to the Celestial Hotel. She walked down a corridor, small windows lined on white walls, and nature paintings decorated the passageway.
More red goo clumped down on the hallway flooring as Sara came into her bedroom. Her bedroom was a sad, messy place. Curtains were drawn that created an even darker atmosphere and the room’s temperature was below freezing, the perfect coldness to sleep in under buried blankets.
Clothing littered her unseen floor. A few steps through the doorway, she slipped on her bra, and with a shriek and a loud thump, she collided on the ground and the weapons hidden in her cloak lay heavily on her.
Hearing giggles behind her, a Prowler mocked to her friend, “Some assassin.” They left with flashes of cruel smiles as she tried to compose herself. Sara kicked her door shut and stood; her face flushed with embarrassment.
She swallowed her insecurities and stripped off her clothing. In the bathroom, she turned on the shower and was glad to be out of her clothing.
The steaming shower felt better than eating craved chocolate. Her stomach was bright red from the spilled coffee on her, but there weren’t going to be any burn marks. Once Sara was squeakily clean, she stepped out of the shower and dried her hair with a white towel. Then, she slipped on a white blouse and stretched, flared black pants with pockets.
With a heavy sigh, she brushed her tangled and damp hair from her face and emerged back into her bedroom. She frowned at her unkept room and decided to pick up some clothing, tossing it to her already overflowing laundry basket.
I need to get my life together. She groaned in her despairing thoughts, gloom on the horizon.
“Poor you.”
Sara muttered between her teeth, “Shut up.” She stepped back out of her room barefooted. The hallway was too bright for comfort and she ambled passed soundproof bedrooms. The passage connected back to the Harmony Sanctum. She trod down the spiral glass staircase and ended up back in the lobby. Next to the staircase were elevators, and beside them, there was the Archangel’s office.
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Taking a deep breath, she pushed through the office doors. With hunched shoulders, the teenager gazed away shyly. Sara’s hands clasped behind her, and she muttered, “Hello, Father.”
The Archangel, Michael, stared up from his documents and smiled, “Sara, how was your mission?” He slightly pushed his comfortable, cushioned chair away from his desk.
She took this as an invitation and collapsed on her father’s lap. Once she swung her feet over the armrest of the chair, Michael wrapped his arm around her. He let her lean against him, and she answered tiredly and with a heavy relaxed sigh, “Fine.”
Brushing the damp strands from his daughter’s face, Michael asked, “Did the mission wear you out?”
“No, I’m a little exhausted,” muttered Sara. She nudged her head against his chest and stared up at his golden eyes with such innocence, “Dad, thanks for letting me do missions again. I know this is my only second time this month, but I’m having so much fun.”
Michael looked down at his happy daughter lolling on his lap with a wide grin. “Sweetie, being out in the world is fun, but remember, you can never let your guard down. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” His arms tightened around her with protectiveness.
He expected much when Sara rolled her eyes with drama and all the teenage sass she could muster. “Nothing will happen to me.”
“You may be indestructible with all your training from me,” Michael warned, but never, sweetie, think you are. Some of the best Prowlers get killed thinking that way. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Heeding his words, Sara couldn’t help but frown. She understood her father was always worried about her, but she acknowledged, “I’m going to be sixteen soon—”
It was the Archangel’s time to roll his eyes and he sighed, “First Sara, you are my baby girl no matter what age you will be.” He clutched her even tighter with love, “And secondly, you are not an adult.”
Sara shrank a little in his lap, disliking hearing that from him. “If I wasn’t an adult, why did you make me your assassin at age fifteen?” She retorted back.
With pursed lips at her sarcastic remark, Michael grabbed her dominant left hand and revealed on the bottom of her wrist there was an assassin mark that could only be seen in the light. “I made you my assassin so young because I can trust you and no one else.”
Knitting his brows together, he added with a leery look, “You were later than I expected.”
“I forgot the Portable Ports again and decided to walk home,” Sara answered with hunched shoulders, already knowing what was coming next.
Michael asked suspiciously, “Why didn’t Kate portal you back here?”
In a defensive tone, Sara replied, “I want to teach myself a lesson! I need to remember the Portable Ports!” Then she looked at the white wooden flooring, and her cheeks flustered. She wondered what her father would think of the true reasons she walked home.
She purposely forgot the Portable Ports. All Sara desired was to stay a little bit longer out of the Celestial Realm and look around at what the humans offered. To her, it was amazing and fascinating because she hardly ever left home. Somehow, being out in the world was freeing. There was so much to see, and she wished Michael could understand that, but he only went on trips out of the Realm when it was work-related.
Of course, Sara detested talking to a mundane. She could only think of humans torturing the Galas for their gain and trying to wrap the concept of magic around their tiny brains.
“Right…” Michael said with a raised eyebrow. Not only he could sense his daughter lying, but her body language gave her away. “I want you immediately to come back home once you two are finished with their mission. If you keep being late…I’m going to worry something happened to you and you won’t be able to go out of the Real.”
Sara stiffened at what he said and responded sadly, still not staring back at his gaze, and twirled her hair around her finger anxiously, “Okay Father, I’ll let Kate teleport me back home then if I forget the Portable Ports.”
“Where is Katerina by the way?”
“Probably doing gross stuff with her boyfriend,” Sara grumbled, “I don’t know what she sees in him.” To her, her friend deserved a man who would give the world to her, and Andrew—his smug smile and ponytail were definitely a red flag—why could Kate see it, was beyond Sara.
Michael chuckled and squeezed her hands, noticing her smile had turned into a frown and it wasn’t about Kate. “I know you want to stay in the human world, but what I’m doing is for your safety. There will be a time when I’ll let you go whenever you wish; however, not until you are grown up. And I’m not saying you are immature.”
“I know, Father,” Sara sighed, doing her best to smile but she couldn’t help but be let down. She wanted to understand that Michael was doing what was best in her interest. Yet, a sad visage took over. Instead of letting despair take her over, she ignored how she truly felt and tried to trust her father. He was the Archangel after all.
“Fake all you want, you will become who you were meant to be,” the voice in her head mocked and she imagined flipping the bird at whoever lived in her mind. She was so tired of this person and rarely understood what he meant. Sara soon fell asleep on Michael’s lap.