“Ah, but it seems the dishonorable dagger has already chosen you as its new owner, Your Highness.” Armaros looks at me with sorrow, his wild spirit momentarily crestfallen. “It is a unique honor to be selected by a discarded weapon forged in Heaven. A rare occurrence, indeed. Though Azael has tarnished its reputation, Tumultuariseems to find faith in your resurrection of its power. Please, do not abandon the Holy calling of such a beautiful weapon. Let it be reborn in your ownership.”
Well, when he says it like that, it’s almost poetic justice.
I sigh, looking back down at the gleaming metal. Moments ago, I thought it was the perfect weapon for me, didn’t I? Nothing’s changed.It’s still the same weapon. So what if Azael originally owned it? It’s not like he has any use for it now. Even if he weren’t busy rotting in Hell, he still has his origin weapon. All archangels do! It’s, like, part of their soul or something. They can’t just misplace them.
And Armaros does make a good point. I could right the wrongs that have been committed with the dagger, replacing its bad karma with my own righteous intentions… Okay,fine. I’ll take my chances.
I pick it up again.
When I do, the weapon seems to take on a mind of its own, humming along the depths of my soul with an inexplicable familiarity. It feels so much like the entity, I have no doubt it’s wielding the power that my little shadow gave me. Which means… risking my life as I did paid off.It actually worked.
Other than the markings on my body, this is the most proof I’ve had so far of my success. I might not be able to pull from the Aether on my own, but that’s not stopping this miraculous weapon from doing it throughme. It’s simply more practiced than I am.
“This is the sign I needed,” I hum, moving the blade through the air to see it sparkle with divine brilliance. “I do have magic, Abaddon. I’m going to be able to use it.”
Armaros continues, speaking before Abaddon has the chance to reply. “Beware, young Queen, for we do not name inanimate objects. Tumultuari is an old weapon, and our weapons hold traces of what they once channeled. Wielding it would make you both a saint and a pariah.”
That’s not comforting whatsoever.
Unfortunately, it seems I have little choice in the matter. Once again, I’ve somehow bonded with something I don’t understand—something that will give me strength if I’m willing to sacrifice for it...And I am.I need every bit of power I can get, no matter the personal cost.
Not to open the Abyss, but to face the insurmountable odds I’m under.
I have to keep a wrathful God, along with his avenging angels, from completely obliterating my home and eradicating everyone I love.
“I’m a human, Armaros.” My mind made, I snatch Tumultuari’s matching sheath off the table. “I’m already a pariah in your world.”
By the time I make it back to my living quarters, there’s a small note attached to my door:
We’ve meeting the Council in the throne room at 5 pm sharp.
Dress formally.
— Abaddon
Frowning, I carry the paper into my room.
I didn’t even know the castle had a throne room, let alone where I could find it. And what an odd, ominous message! He could have at least told me what this meeting is about. The apocalypse, I’m guessing. Or maybe an interrogation about my powers. Whatever it is, I doubt it’s anything good. I no longer have any misconceptions that the Council is anything other than a pack of wolves.
So I shower, do my makeup, braid my hair, put on a nice black dress... I do everything I can to make sure I am deceptively beautiful—anddiscreetly deadly.
The long flow of my dress hides a sleek pair of black combat boots, great for running and climbing. My new cloak is a beautiful work of art, but its inner pockets make perfect stashes for both of my blades, one on each side. Since I’m right-handed, I put the Tumultuari’s sheath on that side, hidden in a tight pocket that falls near my hip.
It’s not the most comfortable way to walk, but I can reorganize later.
I leave twenty minutes early, stopping by the front desk of this hellish hotel to ask the locust staff where the throne room is.
The desk clerk looks at me, confused, and says, “It is at the main entrance to the castle, just under the grand staircase.”
“Oh.” Well, that makes perfect sense, because I’ve never used those doors before. “Okay, thanks.”
It doesn’t take me too terribly long to make it to that regal foyer.Even though I am still early, Abaddon is already waiting at the doors for me, dressed in his full origin armor. I wouldn’t consider that to be formal, but I suppose the rules are different for archangels… But there’s also the fact that he’s wearing a crown for the first time since I met him.
“Hey,” I greet, trying not to stare at his bejeweled headwear. “What’s going on?”
“The Council has called for a briefing. There is news from the surface.”
“Bad news?”
