Chapter 74: 74
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"Hey Ithuriel," I start, swallowing heavily as I try to get the words out of my throat. He looks up from his chair, mouth twitching with a faint dissatisfaction.
"Mm?"
"What if we really are just as bad as them? What if I am just as bad as the vampires?" I ask, looking back down to the floor again to disguise my embarrassment at the seeming absurdity of the question. Ithuriel scoffs.
"Are you saying this just because you let a vampire put his di-"
I launch a cushion at him, smacking him right in the face.
"Don't be so crude," I say, but I am laughing as well, bent over double with the shock of Ithuriel attempting to be so lewd. "I would expect to hear that from Soren, not you. You were supposed to be the sensible one!" I complain, my sides beginning to hurt from the laughter as I roll my eyes dramatically at the white haired angel before me. After a few moments I wipe my eyes. Ithuriel cracks a nervy grin.
"Sensible and honest. That's me," he chuckles, and reclines further back into the couch, his hair tinged with pink, his face flushed from laughing, or from something else.
"That said," he adds, shooting me a sideways look. "You certainly have become more bold since we arrived. Perhaps the vampire ways are rubbing off on you, though not so much in a bad way," he counters quickly, seeing the look on my face as I make to protest. Reluctantly I settle back down into my chair. Ithuriel's face flushes a little more and I shoot a look of half concern at him, partially tempted to ask him if he needed to go stand outside.
"I suppose you are right," I sigh at last, closing my eyes as I let the permanent cold of the palace wash over me, leaning my hands behind my head. After all, ever since meeting Soren I had become more daring and much, much more reckless- at least by an angels standards. In fact, for the past few weeks I had been practically playing a game of cat and mouse with him, even flirting with him- and that was before I realised I had a mating link with him.
I can imagine exactly what Lilyana would have said:
'Can you even call yourself a Queen if you don't take risks? Making mistakes is part of the process, how are you going to become strong if you don't even know what you are up against?'
I am sure by her standards, by now I would certainly be considered a Queen.
But by the councils- well, that is not so certain.
"So, what's the plan of action then?" Ithuriel asks, jumping up from the arm chair to stretch his wings carelessly out behind him, the span of which almost knocks off the glistening array of elixir bottles from the shelf- elixirs which have been brewing the past few days in our defence of Azrael.
I frown at him.
Ithuriel, intentional or not, has seemingly got into the habit of being very showy of his wings when time permitted him, an act which makes me believe this might be his way of enacting some sort of ill mannered taunt on my part. Of course, I could just as easily shed my blood necklace and stretch my own illustrious wings, but at this point, the prospect of taking it off feels more like a criminal act than a simple exchange of clothes. Not to mention, part of me fears what might happen if I did take it off.
Perhaps the sky would fall in, I think jokingly to myself.
Though secretly, a part of me puzzles whether it actually might.
"Right plan of action," I mutter, puffing out my cheeks. I hold up my fingers, counting them off.
"See if the elixir against Azrael works-"
"And doesn't kill us," Ithuriel adds with a smirk, moving to sit on the arm of my chair, and flashing me a cheeky wink, his hair fading orange. I land a punch on his arm.
"Are you saying you don't trust me?" I say, laying on the thick tones of accusation in my voice. Ithuriel gasps, putting his hand on his chest in mock offense, turning his nose up in the air in a pose fit for a theatre.
"Never, my Queen, your judgement is sound, as usual," he assures, bowing eccentrically, the act of which earns him a firm prod in the chest. Despite this, I still crack a smile.
"I missed sarcastic Ithuriel," I laugh, and stick my tongue out at him too for extra measure. Ithuriel leans over to fluff my hair fondly in silent answer. A beam of happiness alights in my heart, and I lean into his hand, savouring the warmth of it upon my skin- a warmth that in my long days in the palace, has almost become forgotten to my mind. I let out a breath through my nose.
"Right plan," I confirm, straightening myself up at the mild disappointed of letting myself become side-tracked again, disallowing myself the luxury of warmth for any further period of time, or to give myself any reason to stall- a concept in which somehow I have become increasingly prone to. Ithuriel nods his response, gesturing with a wave of his hand for me to continue. I clear my throat.
"See if the elixir works against Azrael. Train my powers with Soren. Find Fangorn in the end without getting killed. Convince them- whoever they are, to help us. Find the flame, break Dawn out of jail and save our people, and try our very best not to get torn apart by angry vampires." I pause momentarily, glancing round to Ithuriel with furrowed brows.
"Did I miss anything?"
The white haired angel ponders for a second, face becoming a blank canvas as smooth as polished marble, before:
"Nope that's everything." he confirms, lifting himself off my chair to scoop up his ring from the shelf on the opposite side of the room, rolling it between his fingers tactfully.
"Hey Serena," he says softly, not taking his eyes off the ring in his hands, forehead wrinkling as he strains to keep it from falling to the ground. I raise my head.
"Yes?"
"I don't think Azrael can get in your head,"
My body stiffens a little.
"What makes you say that?" I ask slowly, getting up from my chair now as I move to the bedroom to pull out some light fighting wear for training, beginning to pull on the leathers, my movements stiff and rigid, listening out for the low tones of Ithuriel's response. A moment's silence, then:
"Do you remember a while back, when we were reading The five souls of power, it talked about having amulets to ward off the souls powers?"
Hesitantly, I nod. I did remember Ithuriel mentioning something about it. But at the time, we had both presumed that it would be impossible either to make or find one, especially if we didn't know what we were looking for.
It is hard to keep the waver out of my voice when I reply.
"Yes, what about it?" I say, tone sinking to little more than a hushed whisper, an unspoken hopefulness wavering in the air between us, mixed with the inescapable fear of Azrael's powers that had slowly instilled itself into our minds over the course of the past few weeks, bent on weakening our resolve. Ithuriel stops moving, laying the ring to rest in the centre of his palm, then with a look of strangled curiosity, he dips his head towards me, indicating the blood red necklace sitting on top of my fighting leathers.
"I think you might have one,"
My mouth goes dry, both out of nervous dread, and an all consuming, insurmountable eagerness that blossoms inside me like the petals of a death rose. Just as I am about to question Ithuriel on his reasonings, he lifts a hand respectfully, stilling me into an obedient silence.
"His aura around you is strange. You would expect that upon using his powers on you he would be met by triumph, but the only emotions I ever sense coming off him are frustration and confusion. Tell me, does anything happen when he tries to use his powers on you? Can you feel it at all?" He asks, pressing me for an answer, his voice rising in the same eagerness I had felt course through me only moments ago, picking at my mind with a tentative curiosity. I cross my arms, allowing myself to think for a second.
"It feels like a hand is reaching into my head, trying to fish around for thoughts. Sort of like the way Soren reaches into my heart with his powers. Except…" I add, brows furrowing in bewilderment as my face drops with firm realisation.
"Except whenever Azrael tries to use his powers, my necklace heats up, and the hand withdraws. I thought it was a coincidence, but maybe you are right."
Ithuriel nods his head in agreement, as if confirming his thoughts.
"After your training, we should figure out a safe way to test it. Perhaps see if we can bait Azrael into using his powers on you." Ithuriel suggests, swiping back a strand of long hair from his face. I purse my lips.
"Ah, so I am bait now, lovely," I tease, and then with a frown, glance towards the direction of the door, a dim light creeping in from under the cracks.
"Time to go, Soren will be waiting," I affirm to myself, cracking my knuckles with a mixture of nervous impatience as Ithuriel bounds over to hand me my sword, tipping his head respectfully towards me.
"Be safe out there, Serena. I know you trust him- to an extent- but I do not. He is still a vampire, don't lower your guard," Ithuriel warns, and I give him a reassuring smile in response, knocking him lightly on the side of his arm.
"Yes, mum," I reply snarkily, poking out my tongue as I prize my sword from his hands and, strapping it to my waist, straighten myself out with a long, deep breath.
It is just some training with the Prince of vampires, what could possibly go wrong?
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
"Hey Ithuriel," I start, swallowing heavily as I try to get the words out of my throat. He looks up from his chair, mouth twitching with a faint dissatisfaction.
"Mm?"
"What if we really are just as bad as them? What if I am just as bad as the vampires?" I ask, looking back down to the floor again to disguise my embarrassment at the seeming absurdity of the question. Ithuriel scoffs.
"Are you saying this just because you let a vampire put his di-"
I launch a cushion at him, smacking him right in the face.
"Don't be so crude," I say, but I am laughing as well, bent over double with the shock of Ithuriel attempting to be so lewd. "I would expect to hear that from Soren, not you. You were supposed to be the sensible one!" I complain, my sides beginning to hurt from the laughter as I roll my eyes dramatically at the white haired angel before me. After a few moments I wipe my eyes. Ithuriel cracks a nervy grin.
"Sensible and honest. That's me," he chuckles, and reclines further back into the couch, his hair tinged with pink, his face flushed from laughing, or from something else.
"That said," he adds, shooting me a sideways look. "You certainly have become more bold since we arrived. Perhaps the vampire ways are rubbing off on you, though not so much in a bad way," he counters quickly, seeing the look on my face as I make to protest. Reluctantly I settle back down into my chair. Ithuriel's face flushes a little more and I shoot a look of half concern at him, partially tempted to ask him if he needed to go stand outside.
"I suppose you are right," I sigh at last, closing my eyes as I let the permanent cold of the palace wash over me, leaning my hands behind my head. After all, ever since meeting Soren I had become more daring and much, much more reckless- at least by an angels standards. In fact, for the past few weeks I had been practically playing a game of cat and mouse with him, even flirting with him- and that was before I realised I had a mating link with him.
I can imagine exactly what Lilyana would have said:
'Can you even call yourself a Queen if you don't take risks? Making mistakes is part of the process, how are you going to become strong if you don't even know what you are up against?'
I am sure by her standards, by now I would certainly be considered a Queen.
But by the councils- well, that is not so certain.
"So, what's the plan of action then?" Ithuriel asks, jumping up from the arm chair to stretch his wings carelessly out behind him, the span of which almost knocks off the glistening array of elixir bottles from the shelf- elixirs which have been brewing the past few days in our defence of Azrael.
I frown at him.
Ithuriel, intentional or not, has seemingly got into the habit of being very showy of his wings when time permitted him, an act which makes me believe this might be his way of enacting some sort of ill mannered taunt on my part. Of course, I could just as easily shed my blood necklace and stretch my own illustrious wings, but at this point, the prospect of taking it off feels more like a criminal act than a simple exchange of clothes. Not to mention, part of me fears what might happen if I did take it off.
Perhaps the sky would fall in, I think jokingly to myself.
Though secretly, a part of me puzzles whether it actually might.
"Right plan of action," I mutter, puffing out my cheeks. I hold up my fingers, counting them off.
"See if the elixir against Azrael works-"
"And doesn't kill us," Ithuriel adds with a smirk, moving to sit on the arm of my chair, and flashing me a cheeky wink, his hair fading orange. I land a punch on his arm.
"Are you saying you don't trust me?" I say, laying on the thick tones of accusation in my voice. Ithuriel gasps, putting his hand on his chest in mock offense, turning his nose up in the air in a pose fit for a theatre.
"Never, my Queen, your judgement is sound, as usual," he assures, bowing eccentrically, the act of which earns him a firm prod in the chest. Despite this, I still crack a smile.
"I missed sarcastic Ithuriel," I laugh, and stick my tongue out at him too for extra measure. Ithuriel leans over to fluff my hair fondly in silent answer. A beam of happiness alights in my heart, and I lean into his hand, savouring the warmth of it upon my skin- a warmth that in my long days in the palace, has almost become forgotten to my mind. I let out a breath through my nose.
"Right plan," I confirm, straightening myself up at the mild disappointed of letting myself become side-tracked again, disallowing myself the luxury of warmth for any further period of time, or to give myself any reason to stall- a concept in which somehow I have become increasingly prone to. Ithuriel nods his response, gesturing with a wave of his hand for me to continue. I clear my throat.
"See if the elixir works against Azrael. Train my powers with Soren. Find Fangorn in the end without getting killed. Convince them- whoever they are, to help us. Find the flame, break Dawn out of jail and save our people, and try our very best not to get torn apart by angry vampires." I pause momentarily, glancing round to Ithuriel with furrowed brows.
"Did I miss anything?"
The white haired angel ponders for a second, face becoming a blank canvas as smooth as polished marble, before:
"Nope that's everything." he confirms, lifting himself off my chair to scoop up his ring from the shelf on the opposite side of the room, rolling it between his fingers tactfully.
"Hey Serena," he says softly, not taking his eyes off the ring in his hands, forehead wrinkling as he strains to keep it from falling to the ground. I raise my head.
"Yes?"
"I don't think Azrael can get in your head,"
My body stiffens a little.
"What makes you say that?" I ask slowly, getting up from my chair now as I move to the bedroom to pull out some light fighting wear for training, beginning to pull on the leathers, my movements stiff and rigid, listening out for the low tones of Ithuriel's response. A moment's silence, then:
"Do you remember a while back, when we were reading The five souls of power, it talked about having amulets to ward off the souls powers?"
Hesitantly, I nod. I did remember Ithuriel mentioning something about it. But at the time, we had both presumed that it would be impossible either to make or find one, especially if we didn't know what we were looking for.
It is hard to keep the waver out of my voice when I reply.
"Yes, what about it?" I say, tone sinking to little more than a hushed whisper, an unspoken hopefulness wavering in the air between us, mixed with the inescapable fear of Azrael's powers that had slowly instilled itself into our minds over the course of the past few weeks, bent on weakening our resolve. Ithuriel stops moving, laying the ring to rest in the centre of his palm, then with a look of strangled curiosity, he dips his head towards me, indicating the blood red necklace sitting on top of my fighting leathers.
"I think you might have one,"
My mouth goes dry, both out of nervous dread, and an all consuming, insurmountable eagerness that blossoms inside me like the petals of a death rose. Just as I am about to question Ithuriel on his reasonings, he lifts a hand respectfully, stilling me into an obedient silence.
"His aura around you is strange. You would expect that upon using his powers on you he would be met by triumph, but the only emotions I ever sense coming off him are frustration and confusion. Tell me, does anything happen when he tries to use his powers on you? Can you feel it at all?" He asks, pressing me for an answer, his voice rising in the same eagerness I had felt course through me only moments ago, picking at my mind with a tentative curiosity. I cross my arms, allowing myself to think for a second.
"It feels like a hand is reaching into my head, trying to fish around for thoughts. Sort of like the way Soren reaches into my heart with his powers. Except…" I add, brows furrowing in bewilderment as my face drops with firm realisation.
"Except whenever Azrael tries to use his powers, my necklace heats up, and the hand withdraws. I thought it was a coincidence, but maybe you are right."
Ithuriel nods his head in agreement, as if confirming his thoughts.
"After your training, we should figure out a safe way to test it. Perhaps see if we can bait Azrael into using his powers on you." Ithuriel suggests, swiping back a strand of long hair from his face. I purse my lips.
"Ah, so I am bait now, lovely," I tease, and then with a frown, glance towards the direction of the door, a dim light creeping in from under the cracks.
"Time to go, Soren will be waiting," I affirm to myself, cracking my knuckles with a mixture of nervous impatience as Ithuriel bounds over to hand me my sword, tipping his head respectfully towards me.
"Be safe out there, Serena. I know you trust him- to an extent- but I do not. He is still a vampire, don't lower your guard," Ithuriel warns, and I give him a reassuring smile in response, knocking him lightly on the side of his arm.
"Yes, mum," I reply snarkily, poking out my tongue as I prize my sword from his hands and, strapping it to my waist, straighten myself out with a long, deep breath.
It is just some training with the Prince of vampires, what could possibly go wrong?
"Hey Ithuriel," I start, swallowing heavily as I try to get the words out of my throat. He looks up from his chair, mouth twitching with a faint dissatisfaction."Mm?""What if we really are just as bad as them? What if I am just as bad as the vampires?" I ask, looking back down to the floor again to disguise my embarrassment at the seeming absurdity of the question. Ithuriel scoffs."Are you saying this just because you let a vampire put his di-"I launch a cushion at him, smacking him right in the face."Don't be so crude," I say, but I am laughing as well, bent over double with the shock of Ithuriel attempting to be so lewd. "I would expect to hear that from Soren, not you. You were supposed to be the sensible one!" I complain, my sides beginning to hurt from the laughter as I roll my eyes dramatically at the white haired angel before me. After a few moments I wipe my eyes. Ithuriel cracks a nervy grin."Sensible and honest. That's me," he chuckles, and reclines further back into the couch, his hair tinged with pink, his face flushed from laughing, or from something else."That said," he adds, shooting me a sideways look. "You certainly have become more bold since we arrived. Perhaps the vampire ways are rubbing off on you, though not so much in a bad way," he counters quickly, seeing the look on my face as I make to protest. Reluctantly I settle back down into my chair. Ithuriel's face flushes a little more and I shoot a look of half concern at him, partially tempted to ask him if he needed to go stand outside."I suppose you are right," I sigh at last, closing my eyes as I let the permanent cold of the palace wash over me, leaning my hands behind my head. After all, ever since meeting Soren I had become more daring and much, much more reckless- at least by an angels standards. In fact, for the past few weeks I had been practically playing a game of cat and mouse with him, even flirting with him- and that was before I realised I had a mating link with him.I can imagine exactly what Lilyana would have said:'Can you even call yourself a Queen if you don't take risks? Making mistakes is part of the process, how are you going to become strong if you don't even know what you are up against?'I am sure by her standards, by now I would certainly be considered a Queen. But by the councils- well, that is not so certain. "So, what's the plan of action then?" Ithuriel asks, jumping up from the arm chair to stretch his wings carelessly out behind him, the span of which almost knocks off the glistening array of elixir bottles from the shelf- elixirs which have been brewing the past few days in our defence of Azrael.I frown at him.Ithuriel, intentional or not, has seemingly got into the habit of being very showy of his wings when time permitted him, an act which makes me believe this might be his way of enacting some sort of ill mannered taunt on my part. Of course, I could just as easily shed my blood necklace and stretch my own illustrious wings, but at this point, the prospect of taking it off feels more like a criminal act than a simple exchange of clothes. Not to mention, part of me fears what might happen if I did take it off. Perhaps the sky would fall in, I think jokingly to myself. Though secretly, a part of me puzzles whether it actually might. "Right plan of action," I mutter, puffing out my cheeks. I hold up my fingers, counting them off."See if the elixir against Azrael works-""And doesn't kill us," Ithuriel adds with a smirk, moving to sit on the arm of my chair, and flashing me a cheeky wink, his hair fading orange. I land a punch on his arm."Are you saying you don't trust me?" I say, laying on the thick tones of accusation in my voice. Ithuriel gasps, putting his hand on his chest in mock offense, turning his nose up in the air in a pose fit for a theatre."Never, my Queen, your judgement is sound, as usual," he assures, bowing eccentrically, the act of which earns him a firm prod in the chest. Despite this, I still crack a smile."I missed sarcastic Ithuriel," I laugh, and stick my tongue out at him too for extra measure. Ithuriel leans over to fluff my hair fondly in silent answer. A beam of happiness alights in my heart, and I lean into his hand, savouring the warmth of it upon my skin- a warmth that in my long days in the palace, has almost become forgotten to my mind. I let out a breath through my nose."Right plan," I confirm, straightening myself up at the mild disappointed of letting myself become side-tracked again, disallowing myself the luxury of warmth for any further period of time, or to give myself any reason to stall- a concept in which somehow I have become increasingly prone to. Ithuriel nods his response, gesturing with a wave of his hand for me to continue. I clear my throat."See if the elixir works against Azrael. Train my powers with Soren. Find Fangorn in the end without getting killed. Convince them- whoever they are, to help us. Find the flame, break Dawn out of jail and save our people, and try our very best not to get torn apart by angry vampires." I pause momentarily, glancing round to Ithuriel with furrowed brows."Did I miss anything?"The white haired angel ponders for a second, face becoming a blank canvas as smooth as polished marble, before:"Nope that's everything." he confirms, lifting himself off my chair to scoop up his ring from the shelf on the opposite side of the room, rolling it between his fingers tactfully. "Hey Serena," he says softly, not taking his eyes off the ring in his hands, forehead wrinkling as he strains to keep it from falling to the ground. I raise my head."Yes?""I don't think Azrael can get in your head,"My body stiffens a little. "What makes you say that?" I ask slowly, getting up from my chair now as I move to the bedroom to pull out some light fighting wear for training, beginning to pull on the leathers, my movements stiff and rigid, listening out for the low tones of Ithuriel's response. A moment's silence, then:"Do you remember a while back, when we were reading The five souls of power, it talked about having amulets to ward off the souls powers?"Hesitantly, I nod. I did remember Ithuriel mentioning something about it. But at the time, we had both presumed that it would be impossible either to make or find one, especially if we didn't know what we were looking for.It is hard to keep the waver out of my voice when I reply."Yes, what about it?" I say, tone sinking to little more than a hushed whisper, an unspoken hopefulness wavering in the air between us, mixed with the inescapable fear of Azrael's powers that had slowly instilled itself into our minds over the course of the past few weeks, bent on weakening our resolve. Ithuriel stops moving, laying the ring to rest in the centre of his palm, then with a look of strangled curiosity, he dips his head towards me, indicating the blood red necklace sitting on top of my fighting leathers."I think you might have one,"My mouth goes dry, both out of nervous dread, and an all consuming, insurmountable eagerness that blossoms inside me like the petals of a death rose. Just as I am about to question Ithuriel on his reasonings, he lifts a hand respectfully, stilling me into an obedient silence."His aura around you is strange. You would expect that upon using his powers on you he would be met by triumph, but the only emotions I ever sense coming off him are frustration and confusion. Tell me, does anything happen when he tries to use his powers on you? Can you feel it at all?" He asks, pressing me for an answer, his voice rising in the same eagerness I had felt course through me only moments ago, picking at my mind with a tentative curiosity. I cross my arms, allowing myself to think for a second."It feels like a hand is reaching into my head, trying to fish around for thoughts. Sort of like the way Soren reaches into my heart with his powers. Except" I add, brows furrowing in bewilderment as my face drops with firm realisation."Except whenever Azrael tries to use his powers, my necklace heats up, and the hand withdraws. I thought it was a coincidence, but maybe you are right."Ithuriel nods his head in agreement, as if confirming his thoughts. "After your training, we should figure out a safe way to test it. Perhaps see if we can bait Azrael into using his powers on you." Ithuriel suggests, swiping back a strand of long hair from his face. I purse my lips."Ah, so I am bait now, lovely," I tease, and then with a frown, glance towards the direction of the door, a dim light creeping in from under the cracks."Time to go, Soren will be waiting," I affirm to myself, cracking my knuckles with a mixture of nervous impatience as Ithuriel bounds over to hand me my sword, tipping his head respectfully towards me."Be safe out there, Serena. I know you trust him- to an extent- but I do not. He is still a vampire, don't lower your guard," Ithuriel warns, and I give him a reassuring smile in response, knocking him lightly on the side of his arm."Yes, mum," I reply snarkily, poking out my tongue as I prize my sword from his hands and, strapping it to my waist, straighten myself out with a long, deep breath. It is just some training with the Prince of vampires, what could possibly go wrong?
