56. Danica

Danica

56

S eraphina—my very own celestial bodyguard. Her locks are like strands of pure sunshine, and those eyes? Gleaming gold, like she has a pair of miniature stars plugged in. Standing before me with major main-character energy, her aura practically screams, "I'm here, I'm divine, get used to it!"

"Hello,Dani," she croons, and it's like my soul just scored front-row tickets to the concert of a lifetime—a siren song I never knew I needed until now.

She moves toward me, and her golden wings unfurl, making her look like she's stepped right out of a Renaissance painting. With her dress catching the light, it's a full celestial spotlight effect—fancy.

Instantly, we're in a full-on hug, all jasmine and storm-scented drama, our bodies pressed together in a fierce embrace of joy, desperation, relief, and longing. "Seraphina, it's so good to see you," I say, and I mean it. Her presence is like a balm to my battered soul, a light in the darkness threatening to consume me.

"You too, dear. Although it's not quite as planned," she says, her voice tinged with that wry amusement I've always loved about her, admired, and envied in equal measure.

And it's true—this isn't how I imagined our reunion, not in a million years. I mean, who plans for their own death, for the possibility of waking up in some celestial waypoint, caught between worlds, realities, and destinies?

But then again, when has anything in my life ever gone according to plan? When have I ever been able to predict the twists and turns that fate has in store for me—the challenges, triumphs, and heartbreaks that have shaped me into the person I am today?

"I know this isn't what you expected," she states matter-of-factly.

I'm trying to process this. It's like my brain's buffering at the worst possible moment. When I manage to find words, they come out all high-pitched and whimsical, like I'm floating somewhere between disbelief and the ceiling. "I'm dead, aren't I?"

Saying it louder might break the enchantment and wake me from this dream.

Her smile is as soothing as hot cocoa on a cold day. "No, dear heart. You're very much alive. You're inAtheria," she tells me as if we're discussing the weather.

Okay, so the cheese has officially slid off my cracker. I'm not supposed to be inAtheria. Thanks to all the lore I've waded through, I know it's a real place—my home, per se, but it wasn't penciled in for today's itinerary on the grand realm-hopping tour.

I had my route all planned out, one stone to the next, methodical and calculated.Atheriawas supposed to be a future adventure—a 'season finale' destination—not a random Tuesday pop-in.

"I brought you here because... well, I think you know."Seraphina's voice fades as memories wash over me. I'm back in theWhispering Woods, hanging onto consciousness—

I remember the Shades, followed by a sharp, searing pain.Lucianwas screaming forRhyland, then begging for forgiveness.

I'm teetering on comprehension whenSeraphinabrings the pieces together. "I had to prevent you from… turning," she begins, the gravity of her words slowly descending. When my face registers nothing but question marks, she adds, "Into one of them—creatures of the night."

There it is—a statement that holds the weight of this new world's sun.

Did Lucian and Rhyland feed me their blood?

It dawns on me that my rescue from the clutches of death was also sparing me from eternal life in the shadows, an existence she implies would come at the cost of something much more significant—perhaps my humanity itself.

"So you brought me here to..." I trail off, the implications swirling. "Wasn't I... dead?"

"Nearly," she affirms with a tender touch of reassurance. "I halted your transformation—I pulled you back from the precipice. I purified and restored you to health."

I'm trying to understand this whole back-from-the-dead plot twist, trying to make sense of a world where death isn't the end, where the rules that I've always taken for granted no longer apply. Because if you've got divine blood, if you've got a destiny that's written in the stars and a fate that's been foretold since the dawn of time, then death is just a timeout—a brief intermission in the grand drama of your existence.

"Please understand that my actions may have strayed from the path of rules, but my sacred duty is to watch over and protect you. I willingly embrace any repercussions that await me." Her voice carries the weight of solemnity, yet it's touched with gentle resolve.

I'm gawking at her, my mouth hanging open so wide you could park a celestial chariot in there, and I'm about two seconds away from turning on the waterworks. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that playing fast and loose with the cosmic rulebook—especially regarding the higher-ups and the divine crew—never ends well. "Seraphina, you can't be serious—"

"Fortuitously, your presence remains concealed; your father remains unaware,"Seraphinaimparts with gentle assurance.

"Hold up, what if he catches wind that I am here?Seraphina, I feel like you're holding out on me. Spill the tea, sis."

"I have dared to interfere with destiny—your destiny—which is an act the Gods see with disapproval. I have exceeded my mandate, yet at this moment, my only concern is fulfilling my responsibility to you. That is the entirety of my conviction,"Seraphinaexpresses with serene confidence, devoid of any regret for her choices.

My eyes are brimming with tears now, the gravity of her selfless act hitting me like a celestial sucker punch. "If the powers that be catch wind of this, what's going to happen to you?"

"We must set aside those concerns for now,Dani. We have much to address, and our moments together are swiftly ebbing."Seraphina's tone shifts to one of earnest gravity.

"My mother?" The words spill from my lips in a frantic gush. Our previous soul-baring chat in my corner of the great cosmic tapestry replays in my head—the part where I was meant to bring this up with the paternal figure. But I refuse to let this lead go cold; I'm desperate for the truth. Especially in light of Azrael's earth-shattering reveal—I have to know!

"That is a matter you will need to discuss with your father, I'm afraid,"Seraphinadeflects, her tone gentle yet firm.

Nope. Nah-ah. I'm done playing the waiting game. "Seraphina, just tell me…please," I beg, my voice teetering on the edge of desperation. "I have to know."

She eyes me for a heartbeat, probably debating if I'm ready for the truth. Then, as if she couldn't resist the urge to spill the tea like a high school gossip queen, she let it all out.

She quickly tells me the tale of my mother and my father—Elysium—weaving the words like threads of gold through the tapestry of my heritage. He came fromAetheria, descending on currents of pure luminescence, a figure of myth-made flesh. With him, he brought the glow of the upper realms to Earth, capturing my mother's mortal heart with his divine light.

Then, boom—passion ignited, and—bam—I'm the spark.

"But Azrael,"Seraphina's voice falters, her eyes darkening with sorrow. "He discovered their secret when she was eight months along with you." Her hand trembles as she reaches for mine. "He sought to end the prophecy before it could begin—to extinguish the light that would unite the realms and defeat the Darkness—Moretemis."

I can feel the sting of tears, the kind that sneaks up on you, asSeraphinaunfolds more of this staggering history. She recounts how grim and ruthless Azrael decided to play for keeps, cutting my mother's life thread short while I was still part of her, nestled safe inside.

The guy was betting on a two-for-one deal—an exit strategy so cold it could freeze the sun. But here I am, the 'still-standing' testimony to a plan that didn't pan out as intended.

In that instant, with clarity sharp as a dagger, I swear a silent but deadly promise to myself: Azrael's days are numbered, and I'm the one holding the calendar.

"I had to do what I could," her voice trembles with gratitude. "I blasted him with my light and saved you—hid you among the mortals."

My mind's eye paints a vivid picture—Seraphinabringing me into this world, then spiriting me away to the hospital where I was abandoned.

CatchingSeraphina's eye, all brimming with emotion like she's about to star in a tearjerker, I give her a glance that's pure gratitude—no additives. Grabbing her hand because sometimes words need a little hand-holding action, she tells me, "It was my honor, dear heart."

"And my mom? What happened with her...after?" The words claw their way past the boulder lodged in my windpipe.

Seraphina's response hits me like a celestial freight train. "Her soul was stolen."

I'm pacing, my feet moving on autopilot as I try to process this bombshell. "Moretemis?"

Seraphinanods in confirmation, the motion rigid. She swallows hard like the truth is a jagged pill. "Yes."

I stop pacing as she reaches for me. Her touch is like a warm blanket, chasing away all the chills. Her next words slam into me, "You are our hope, our light,Dani."

I melt into her embrace, the floodgates within me shattering as I release a lifetime's worth of anguish. She held the pieces to my mom's story, the key to understanding it all—she's the reason I escaped Azrael—Moretemis.

The noise that tears out of my throat is unfiltered and visceral—the type of soul-deep catharsis you don't even know you've bottled up until it shatters the silence. And now, the brutal reality hits—my mom's essence is stolen, ensnared by a grade-A nutjob who has no right to claim her.

I cling toSeraphinalike she's made of mist, terrified that if I dare to relax my hold, she'll dissipate into nothingness. I'm mourning a mother ripped away before her time, a woman I never had the chance to know truly and now never will—all because my existence ignited a murderer's twisted obsession.

After a moment,Seraphinagently eases back, her hands tender as they cup my face, her thumbs brushing away the salty trails of sorrow. "Shh… don't cry, dear heart. There's still hope," she soothes, her voice a melody against the cacophony of my emotions. Her tears shimmer, betraying the depth of her feelings even as she radiates strength and comfort.

I echo her gesture, my fingers gently brushing against her face, snagging the crystalline droplets. My words stutter as I grasp at a glimmer of levity in our shared heartache. "No, you stop first," I quip, a wobbly smile surfacing despite the tempest raging within me. "How is there hope knowing my mother is damned for eternity? What's the hope in that?"

Seraphina dabs away her tears with tender gestures, and we find ourselves enmeshed in a maelstrom of emotions. "Salvation is within reach for her."

Just like that, the brief moment of levity evaporates—talk about a narrative curveball I didn't see coming.

"Follow me."Seraphina's fingers lace with mine as she leads me out of the room—a lifeline amidst the storm of revelations.