Song of Angels

By Michelle Louring

The first three books in the Angel's Voice Series:

Resounding Echo
Silent Sound
Quiet Whisper
-
Resounding Echo:
The battlefield of angels and demons is no place for a human...

For nearly 6 years, Selissa has lived an almost peaceful life at the temple, but she has no memories from the time before the priests took mercy on her. All she has from her past life are a strange symbol on her back and fearful dreams.
It's only when the mysterious traveler Alassane arrives at the temple that her lost memories come back to haunt her. Soon, Selissa finds herself fighting for her life and comes to know that no one are what they pretend to be...
-
Silent Sound:
Life is much simpler when myths are merely fairy tales...

Selissa hardly thought her life could become any more complicated, but the gods seem to have developed a sadistic fondness for proving her wrong.
A request for her help with solving a series of mysterious attacks at one of the temples seemed fairly simple. But everything suddenly becomes far more complex when Selissa is told who she needs to protect from the unknown assailant. Because the target just happens to be the son of the archangel Arnath...
-
Quiet Whisper:
The victims will be many as long as war is part of human nature...

A chance meeting with someone from her past causes Selissa to once again find herself in the middle of someone else’s fight.
This time her unusual task involves neither angels nor demons, but leads her into the heart of Ver’dohna where a war is raging between the military and the Rebellion. And while she is far from home, she is still offered new allies.
All she has to do is rescue a man from the executioner’s axe, right in the middle of the most heavily guarded stronghold in Ver’dohna...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michelle Louring
• Release date: Jan 20, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311514189

Michelle Louring

Wayward Dane, writing high fantasy in English!By now you have probably read hundreds of author bios showcasing various fancy awards and such. I won't bore you with that (mostly because I don't have any...), so here's a few things about me:1. I'm a total geek2. I'm into gaming3. I own an owl4. I probably mostly own an owl because no one would sell me a dragon5. I do archery6. I do cosplay7. I'm really not nearly as interesting as the above facts would lead you to believe

Book preview

Resounding Echo

Angel’s Voice

Book 1

Chapter 1

The silence in the temple was deafening. No sound was heard in the deserted hallways and not even the chirping of birds filled the gardens. It was just before sunrise and the usually crowded yards were empty. Neither the priests nor the people who came to seek the gods’ blessings were awake yet. Not even any of the many refugees who sought sanctuary there were to be seen this early in the morning.

A slight rustle of movement broke the silence. On the roof overlooking one of the temple yards sat a young woman. She was the only one awake, and she made sure to sit so still that no one would have noticed her, even if they had happened to pass by.

Selissa shifted slightly. She had been sitting there for hours already, and her back was getting stiff. She knew the priests would reprimand her for sitting out all night, just like they always did, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

A cold wind blew through the yard, whipping Selissa’s hair into her eyes. She absentmindedly led a hand to her face to brush it away. The cold didn’t bother her. It helped chase away a very different kind of chill.

The nightmare was still vivid in her mind. Though it still left her shaken, it was nothing new. It was the same nightmare that had plagued her ever since she first came to the temple.

How long had it been since then? Five years? Six? She couldn’t quite remember anymore.

Ghostly images still flashed through her mind when she closed her eyes. It was always the same. A dark room, filled with whispering voices. She was surrounded by cloaked figures. She would never see their faces, but their voices haunted her even during the day. A constant whispering, like they were chanting. A sudden pain shooting through her body as if hell itself was trying to burn its way through her back.

She never saw what happened at the end. She would always wake up in a cold sweat, as if the pain had been real, the chanting still echoing in her mind.

A noise broke her from her thoughts. She had barely noticed the first light shining on the horizon, announcing the start of the day. The apprentices were the first to show for the morning’s duties. Their first job of the day was to make sure everything was ready for the morning Mass.

Selissa knew the priests would be making their way to the Great Hall by now to perform the Mass. That’s how it went, to the point where she never needed to know what time it was. The life in the temple was so structured and predictable she could hardly remember the last time something out of the ordinary happened. Every day started out with the Mass in the morning and ended with a ritual at night. After the Mass, classes would start. The apprentices would study in the library or assist the priests in teaching the children who came to the temple for lessons. Once a week, the priests would perform the Blessing for any who wished for the gods’ protection. Occasionally, some of the refugees living at the temple would get into a fight, but the priests would always put an end to it. More than once, she had gotten involved in those fights and been on the receiving end of a few punches. But that was the worst that ever happened under the temple’s roof.

She knew the priests had to pass by the place she was sitting to get to the Great Hall. And she also knew that if they discovered her, they would not only pester her about staying out at night, but she would also be forced to attend Mass, even if they had to drag her by her ankles.

She quickly jumped down from the roof as quietly as possible so the passing apprentices wouldn’t notice her. Sneaking around without getting discovered was a skill she had mastered early in her time living there.

Knowing exactly which hallways would be empty at this time made it easy to avoid the temple’s other residents. She made her way through the maze-like corridors, all of which she knew like the back of her hand, to the garden farthest away from the main halls of the temple.

As the garden came into view, Selissa felt herself relax at the familiar sight. The morning light bathed the place in an almost ethereal glow, painting the grass in a pale green color. It was a color that couldn’t be seen at any other time of day.

The garden was nearly isolated from the rest of the sanctuary and Selissa always got the feeling that she was stepping into a different world when she entered it. The sound of human activity faded away, and as she slowly made her way across the grass, the only noise made was that of the birds waking up to greet the day.

She liked the solitude the garden provided. It allowed her to escape the life of the temple, even if only for a little while. She was thankful to the priests who had taken her in all those years ago, and they had always treated her well, but she knew she didn’t belong there. It was like there was an invisible wall between her and everyone else. It made little sense to everyone else, but she felt the least alone when she was by herself.

She walked through the garden, slowly approaching the small lake hidden in the back. Watching the light play across the surface, she listened to the soft sound of rippling water.

Sitting down at the edge, she watched the water move quietly. The wind had blown a few leaves into the lake and rings were slowly spreading, disturbing the surface.

As the water stilled, Selissa found her reflection staring back at her. A narrow face framed by dark hair. But that was rarely what caught people’s attention. The pair of eyes staring back at her were pale, a misty silver color barely broken by faded black pupils. They stood in sharp contrast to her dark hair and made the reflection shimmering across the surface seem unreal.

Frowning, Selissa threw a rock at the water, watching the ghostly image dissolve. It was no wonder people kept their distance. She knew those strange, silvery eyes unnerved them. The way she looked reminded them of the demons in the myths who took the shape of humans in order to trick their victims. In a place where people worshipped angels, a simple birth defect was enough to make everyone wary of her.

Lost in thought, she almost missed the sound of soft footsteps on the cobbled path. Her head snapped up when she realized she wasn’t alone, searching the garden for the intruder.

A young man, dressed in priest robes, stepped onto the path behind her. She relaxed immediately when she recognized him.

Calen had been an apprentice at the temple when Selissa first arrived. He was one of the people who had found her lying battered and bruised outside the sanctuary grounds all those years ago before she was taken in by the temple’s priests.

He had long since passed his exams and become a priest, but to her he was still the same. The years hadn’t changed his boyish but kind face much and he still had the same shaggy blond hair that always managed to make him look like he just rolled out of bed.

Skipping Mass again? he asked, as he approached her. There was no accusation in his voice, and the smile on his face told her he was more amused by her actions than disapproving.

Some of the tension disappeared from her shoulders. Calen was the closest thing she had to a friend and being around him always made her feel at ease. I’m not skipping. I’m just not attending, Selissa answered, before realizing how stupid it sounded. Calen’s smile widened and he let out a chuckle.

The High Priest won’t be happy with you, you know, he said, sitting down next to her.

She scowled and rested her head in her hands. That old man is never happy, is he? I might as well be slacking off since he needs something to complain about, anyway.

Calen let out a sigh, though the smile never left his face. He was so used to her antics by now that he didn’t even try to correct her.

Why did you come out here anyway? I guess you didn’t just want to remind me that I wasn’t at Mass, Selissa said, figuring that he must have had a purpose in coming to find her.

Some refugees and travelers arrived this morning to seek sanctuary here. Since you skipped Mass again, the High Priest wants you to help getting them settled. As Calen said this, he rose from his spot beside her and extended his hand to help her up. She stared at it for a moment before reluctantly accepting it. How bad could it be?

Chapter 2

The temple gates opened with a creaking groan. Selissa waited, none too patiently, with Calen and a few of the temple’s apprentices. The gates opened fully and a small group of people entered the temple grounds. Most of them wore ragged, dirty clothes, revealing them as refugees on the run. Many of the people who came to the temple had fled their homes because of war or persecution. The outer areas of Sinaria had been plagued by the conflict with the enemy nation Ver’dohna, ever since the war broke out between them a few years ago. No one knew the exact reason for the war, or who made the first strike, but that didn’t stop the two countries from despising each other. Unfortunately, it was innocent people that paid the price for that resentment.

The result was thousands of people fleeing their homes and being separated from their families. The temple provided sanctuary for anyone who chose to come there, so seeing refugees was nothing new to Selissa.

She watched as they approached, most of them shooting wary looks around them.  By now, paranoia was so deeply settled in them it would probably follow them for the rest of their lives.

A young girl stumbled on the road and fell to her knees. The hood on her ragged cape fell from her face and long, bright red hair spilled out from it. But it wasn’t her hair that caught Selissa’s attention.

On the girl’s face, right under her left eye, a black mark was tattooed. Even though it was the first time she had ever seen someone with such a tattoo, she recognized it immediately.

The Mark of the Cursed. Selissa had once seen a picture of it in one of the library’s books, but never thought she would meet someone who actually carried the mark on their skin.

The Mark of the Cursed got tattooed on people who were influenced by demonic magic. They were considered outcasts and were often hunted down when people saw the symbol on their cheek. 

A boy, probably a few years older than the girl, helped her to her feet. Selissa noticed that many of the temple’s passing residents were staring and whispering among themselves. The red-haired girl lowered her head and tried to look as small as possible. The boy kept his hand on her shoulder and glared at the nearby people who were all suddenly in a hurry to get to their destination.

Selissa followed them with her eyes as they passed her. The young apprentice who greeted them was obviously nervous, his eyes constantly flickering to the tattoo on the girl’s face.

She must have had it rough if she is met with such hostility even here. Calen’s voice broke her from her thoughts and she turned away from the sight of the two children. Her only answer to his statement was a nod as her eyes turned back to the last of the newcomers.

Most of them had already been led away, but Selissa’s eyes landed on someone lingering by the gate. She wondered why she hadn’t noticed him before. Just from looking at him, she knew he was neither a refugee nor an ordinary traveler.

She couldn’t see his face, since he was wearing a hooded cloak, but his frame was tall and abnormally thin. Seeing starved orphans or refugees was nothing new, but this man clearly wasn’t a refugee. His clothes were both new and clean, and when he walked towards them it wasn’t with the meek walk of a runaway, but with a brisk, confident stride.

As most others had already left, Calen approached the stranger. She heard him greet the cloaked man who merely nodded in return.

Calen turned to walk to the temple halls, the stranger following right behind him. Calen smiled at her, acknowledging her with a nod as he walked past her. Selissa barely noticed him, her eyes never leaving the other man. As he strolled closer, he lifted his head and for the first time she saw his face. 

A pair of dark eyes looked back at her. The face under the hood was pale, framed by dark brown hair. His cheeks were sunken and the skin was practically stretched across the bones. If it hadn’t been for the intense look in his eyes, she would have thought she was looking at a walking corpse.

Suddenly his eyes met hers and her entire body went rigid. A strange feeling went through her, a feeling of recognition. Like she was supposed to know this man.

His eyes bore into hers, and he didn’t look away until he and Calen were past her. Selissa watched them disappear around a corner, too shocked to move at all.

She finally pulled herself together and shook her head in an attempt to shake off feeling. What the hell was that? she muttered to herself. She had never met this man, and she sure as hell didn’t have any desire to meet him again. But still, her mind was screaming at her to run after him and demand he tell her who he was and what he was doing there.

ℓ

Later she found herself brooding in her room. The stranger bothered her more than she would ever admit. Even Calen had noticed her foul mood, even though she was trying to act like nothing was wrong. Finally she had grown tired of his questioning looks and had hid in her room.

Selissa glared at the wall while silently berating herself. She was acting ridiculous and she knew it. It was not like he was the first strange person who had come to this place. Throughout the years, the amount of unique characters that had passed through could fill a Sinarian circus.

The temple welcomed everyone. It was dedicated to Issara, the angel of sanctuary. She was one of the seven archangels, servant to the Sinarian god Shi’laran. Six similar temples were placed all over Sinaria, each dedicated to one of the seven angels.

To turn someone away would be considered sacrilege and Selissa had no intention of going against the guardians of Sinaria.

While growing up she had been surrounded by thieves, robbers and even a couple of guys she suspected might have been assassins. A thin guy in a cloak should not bother her.

She rose from where she was seated on her bed and went to her cabinet to pull out her training gear. She might as well do something instead of sitting around and torturing herself.

Years ago, a Kaneiran blademaster had stayed in the Issara temple for a couple of months. His name was Teren’thil, and he had taken a liking to Selissa, despite the fact that everyone else preferred to keep their distance. In the time he had stayed there, he taught her a lot about sword fighting and hand-to-hand combat.

She had gotten quite good at it and had continued training, even after Teren’thil had left. And right now, a hard training session sounded like a good idea.

She started undressing to change into her training outfit. As she pulled off her shirt, she caught a glimpse of her back in the mirror on the other side of the room. One would think she would be used to it by now, but the sight still made her flinch.

The symbol snaked across her back, the black of the mark contrasting with her pale skin. When the priests first found her, they had thought it was a tattoo of some kind, but there was no sign of any damaged skin under the mark.

Selissa herself didn’t know what it was. She didn’t remember anything, except her name, from before she came to the temple, and the mark had been there ever since.

It was a strange symbol. Black lines circled each other, like snakes fighting for dominance, and covered much of her back. She had looked through thousands of books to find out what it meant and asked every priest who would listen to her, but no one seemed to know what it was.

Selissa pulled the shirt on, willing herself not to care. The symbol, the nightmare . . . No matter what she did, she couldn’t figure out what it all meant. There was no point in trying if there was no answer. She had told herself that so many times she almost believed it. Almost.

Chapter 3

She slashed at the air again and again, trying to hit invisible enemies. She was spinning around herself rapidly, fluid movements making it seem as if she was dancing, rather than training.

As usual, she trained alone. Calen had no combat training, and no one else liked to spend more time in her company than strictly necessary. So ever since Master Teren’thil had left, Selissa’s only opponent had been herself. The few training dummies she had put together in the past barely lasted more than a few weeks.

Slash, kick, dodge . . .

She moved vigorously, swords dancing around her. The blades in her hands were the only thing of value she owned. The pair of twin swords had been a gift from Teren’thil, just before he left. They were old, but well-kept and of good material. The blades were long and thin, and light enough to allow her to swing them with ease. From the hilt of each sword hung a long, red ribbon, which flew around her with each swing. They were designed to attract the enemy’s attention and distract them from the actual blade, and they flew through the air, painting scarlet red lines before her eyes.

Stab, swing, kick . . .

Selissa let everything around her disappear, focusing instead on every step and every movement. The weight of the swords in her hands was familiar and calming. After all these years they felt like extensions of her arms.

Spin, slash— 

Cough. She stilled immediately and spun around when she heard someone clearing their throat behind her. On the stairs leading up to the hallway behind the yard sat the strange traveler from earlier. He had changed his clothes and was now wearing a long coat instead of the cloak. Around his neck hung a long scarf, and he had a lit cigarette in his hand.

Little girls shouldn’t be playing around with weapons. They might end up getting hurt, he said. His voice was low and surprisingly pleasant compared to his unhealthy appearance. He took a drag of the cigarette, but kept his eyes trained on her.

Selissa’s hands tightened around the sword hilts in anger. Who the hell did he think he was? Not only did she stand at nearly six feet tall, she had beaten almost every fighter in the entire temple and the adjoining village, even counting all the travelers and war refugees that lived there. No one called her ‘little’, even before they met the business end of her fists. This stranger had no business questioning her skills, just because she was a woman.

Little girl, you say? she answered, trying not to let her fury show in her voice. I got twice the muscle of you. Can a walking stick like you even lift a sword?

The walking stick wasn’t fazed by her taunt. He merely watched her calmly over the cigarette. Why don’t you try and see for yourself? he asked and rose from the stairs. He threw the smoke on the gravel and put it out with his foot.

Selissa raised an eyebrow at the man’s challenge. Did he really want to fight her? She snorted, more than willing to teach this man a lesson. She threw one of the swords at him. It landed right between his feet, the blade cutting into the gravel. The stranger still wasn’t fazed. He shot her a glance, before bowing down to pick up the sword. He easily dragged it out of the earth and held it up before him.

Selissa didn’t wait for him to be ready. She charged at him, sword ready to strike. She slashed and hit— nothing. Eyes wide in surprise, she heard the gravel shift behind her. She spun around as fast as she could to block the incoming blow. Blades clashed against each other, and the strength of the blow sent her stumbling back several steps. She just barely managed to regain her balance before falling on her ass.

She jumped back to make some distance between them. In her mind she heard Master Teren’thil’s voice scold her. Never underestimate your opponent. He had told her that so many times, and she cursed herself for forgetting.

She slid into a battle stance while she studied her opponent. He was standing casually in front of her, like they were not in the middle of a fight. She willed herself to calm down. Fury might have made her strikes stronger, but it would ruin her technique. She took a calming breath before striking again.

This time he blocked her attack before making a strike of his own. But this time she was prepared and spun out of his reach. She aimed a kick at his stomach, which he just barely dodged.

They spun around, kicks and blows flying around, blades slashing through the air. No one got a direct hit at the other, and Selissa soon realized that they were too evenly matched for either of them to gain the upper hand. 

She jumped back and stilled, chest heaving from her ragged breathing. The stranger also stopped moving and simply watched her from the other end of the yard.

You’re a lot tougher than you look, I will give you that. Let’s say we’re even, shall we? Selissa said as her breathing returned to normal. The stranger simply nodded, a smirk on his face that made her want to bash his nose in.

Let’s say we are, he agreed. He held her sword up for her to take, and she hesitantly stepped forward. There was still something about him that put her on her toes and knowing she probably couldn’t beat him in a fight didn’t make her any more comfortable.

Do you have a name, stranger? she asked as she accepted the sword.

Has no one ever told you it’s bad manners to ask someone their name before giving your own? he said, the arrogant smirk never leaving his face. Selissa felt her jaw clenching at his attitude. Did this arrogant fool even know the meaning of the word manners?

She forced a smile. My name is Selissa. Pleased to meet you. The stranger heard the thick layer of sarcasm in those words and he raised an eyebrow in amusement.

Selissa? As in Sorrow? What kind of parents gives their kid a name that means sorrow? he asked. Selissa’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, before she hid her surprise behind a bright smile. She knew her name originated from Sinar, the ancient language of Sinaria. It hadn’t been used commonly in centuries and was now only used by those who studied ancient texts. The only ones who knew how to speak the language now were highly ranked priests and historians. For him to know the meaning of her name he had to have some knowledge of it as well. Not for the first time since he arrived, she found herself dreadfully curious as to who this man was.

Well, I wouldn’t know. I don’t have any memory of my parents, she said pleasantly, the fake smile still in place. A strange look appeared in his eyes, as if he had just confirmed something he already suspected. It was gone as soon as it appeared.

So they abandoned you in this place? Like so many of the other unwanted children who live here? he asked with such nonchalance he could be talking about the weather.

His tone swiftly ignited Selissa’s annoyance with him into full-blown anger. He had no right to assume something like that. He didn’t know anything about her.

There was a pang in her chest when she realized that neither did she. The reason for her anger was not his words, but the fact that they might be true. No one had ever come searching for her. She had always told herself that her parents were dead, but maybe the truth was that no one wanted to find her.

She forced herself to remain calm. It’s none of your business, she said before turning away.

You’re right. It’s not, he said simply before lighting another cigarette and turning to leave.

As he started to walk away, Selissa felt the need to have the last word. Those things will kill you, bastard.

Alassane, he said. 

What? Selissa said, brows furrowed in confusion.

My name. And somehow I seriously doubt this will be what kills me, he said, chuckling as if it was some kind of inside joke.

Selissa could only stare in confusion as he walked away.

Chapter 4

The sound of the village was a sharp contrast to the peace of the temple. Everywhere people were hurrying around, doing their work or running the daily errands.

Although Selissa liked solitude, there was something about the bustling life of the village that she enjoyed. Maybe it was the lack of solemnity, a feeling that normally surrounded the people living in the temple, or maybe it was that she was able to blend into the crowd with everyone too busy to shoot her strange looks. 

She made her way through the streets on her way to the village’s tailor. Calen had asked her to pick up the robes for the new set of apprentices that would arrive soon. Every year some of the priests accepted apprentices that would study under them, later to become priests themselves.

She had never once considered trying for an apprenticeship herself, despite Calen’s insistence. She had a deep respect for Issara, but the life of a cleric was not for her. She was a fighter by heart and would never be able to live by the strict rules of priesthood. Knowing her, she would have punched one of the devout by the second week. 

Angry sounds rose from a crowd nearby, distracting her from her task. People were standing in a half circle, looking down and yelling at something in the middle. Selissa craned her neck to see what it was, but even her tall frame couldn’t reach above the people in front of her. She considered ignoring it for a second, before admitting to herself that her curiosity would get the better of her soon enough.

She stepped forward, pushing through the crowd under loud protests from the surrounding people. Finally, she managed to squeeze to the front of the masses to see what all the fuss was about.

On the ground lay the red-haired girl Selissa had seen yesterday. The boy who had accompanied her stood leaned above her, trying to protect her from the angry villagers. Selissa tried to comprehend what the poor girl could possibly have done to upset so many people. When she realized what the problem was.

The girl had the Mark. That was why everyone was so upset.

Someone threw a stone at the girl. It hit her on the cheek and left a bloody mark. Although it had to have hurt quite a bit, the girl didn’t make a sound and merely shied away. The boy yelled furiously at the crowd for them to leave her alone.

Selissa felt rage bubble in her chest. Had these people no shame at all? This girl’s only crime was the mark on her face, but still these people treated her like dirt. 

She saw another person lifting his arm to throw something. Before he could even react Selissa seized him and threw him into the people behind him.

The crowd immediately went quiet. Everyone was staring at her, clearly frightened by the violent look on her face.

You should all be ashamed of yourselves! she yelled. A few of the nearest villagers stepped back. On what grounds do you attack this poor girl?

A few gained back their courage at her accusation. A man stepped forward, disgust clear on his face.

She got the mark of demons! he shouted, more people getting incited by his statement. We don’t want scum like that in our town!

Demons? Look at her! Does she really look like someone who would harm anyone? Selissa asked incredulously, gesturing to the small girl behind her. She couldn’t be much more than twelve or thirteen years old, and as she cowered on the ground, she looked even younger. She shrunk back, trying to hide as much as possible behind the boy at her side. Selissa met the eyes of the man who had stepped forward. By the sight of her eyes, the man started to fidget, unnerved by the strangeness of their silvery color.

The only scum in this town are you! Cowards like you who only attack people weaker than themselves make me sick, Selissa said, willing anyone to oppose her. The people started to whisper among themselves, many with ashamed looks on their faces. But most just shot disdainful looks at them before turning to leave.

Soon the crowd dissolved, and the only ones left were the three of them. Selissa kneeled by the girl and put a hand on her shoulder.

Are you okay? she asked softly, careful not to frighten her further. The red-haired girl looked at her with wide eyes, clearly not used to people being kind to her.

Y-yes, she stammered, lowering her eyes when she realized she had been staring. The boy shot her a grateful look.

Thank you, he said. Not many would have stood up for her like that.

Unfortunately, the world is mostly populated by lowlifes like them, Selissa answered. She rose from her kneeling position and offered the boy a hand. He took it with a thankful smile before helping up the girl. The girl, still frightened, kept hiding behind him.

You live at the temple, don’t you? the boy said. I think I saw you yesterday.

I do. My name is Selissa, she answered, smiling at the boy. As she met his eyes, she saw him stiffen in surprise. That was a normal reaction when people looked her in the eye, but the boy soon recovered and returned her smile.

I’m Nijel. This is my sister Nadia, he offered his hand. Selissa accepted the handshake, a little hesitantly. She figured he had to be from Ver’dohna. Sinarian people didn’t shake hands, but she recalled it to be common courtesy in the neighboring country.

Pleased to meet you, she said before dropping his hand. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you end up in this situation?

Nijel looked a little embarrassed, but explained. Nadia and I simply went for a walk in town. I didn’t think it would be a problem, since she had her hood on, but this vendor bumped into her, so it fell down. It went downhill from there.

The young girl, who Selissa now knew as Nadia, bowed her head.

It’s all my fault. I’m sorry, she said in a meek voice.

Nijel opened his mouth to protest, but Selissa beat him to it. Sorry? Sorry for what? That some people decided for themselves that you were worth less than them and gave you that mark? Nadia looked up and Selissa met her eyes. You’re only worth less when you start to thinking you are. Don’t let those people get to you.

Surprise was clear in the girl’s eyes. She clearly wasn’t used to people other than her brother accepting her and standing up for her. Selissa’s thoughts went to Calen. She knew how that felt. Everyone but Calen had always kept their distance to her too. But even if they avoided her, at least they didn’t try to chase her away.

Painfully aware of the hostile looks passing people were shooting their way, Selissa smiled at Nadia.

I have to go pick up some robes at the tailor. Want to join me? she asked, extending her hand to the girl. Nadia looked warily at her hand, half surprised, half frightened. She shot a look at Nijel, who smiled and nodded at her.

Nadia hesitantly accepted Selissa’s hand, and the three of them went on their way, doing their best to ignore the stares of the crowd.

Chapter 5

After returning to the temple Nijel and Nadia had gone to their room, leaving Selissa to go look for Calen. With her arms full of clothes, she went through the temple grounds.

As she went up the stairs to the east quarters, she saw something move to her left.

So the warrior girl is running errands now? a low voice asked. Selissa felt an annoyed tick in her jaw as she turned to the speaker.

Alassane stood leaned against the wall a few feet from her, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips.

The same strange feeling she had experienced at their other meetings washed over her, but this time it was overpowered by annoyance. Had he nothing better to do than to bother her?

Why don’t you just go somewhere else? To hell, perhaps? she said, plastering on a pleasant smile to go with the sentiment.

He mumbled something she could have sworn sounded like ‘been there’. She figured she had imagined it as he was looking at her with that damn smirk. He took the cigarette from his lips and exhaled slowly.

Who are you trying to fool with that fake smile of yours? he asked.

Said fake smile widened. You, obviously, she said.

Her reply caught him off guard, and she took the chance to slip past him. She breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t follow her. She had no idea what the guy’s problem was. He had only been there for a few days and he was already getting on her nerves.

Forcing her skinny tormentor from her mind, she continued on her mission to locate Calen. While turning down another empty corridor Selissa cursed the size of the temple. Normally she found it great as it prevented the priests from easily finding her. The problem was that it also prevented her from finding the priests.

She rounded a corner and, having apparently missed the sound of footsteps, collided head-on with someone hurrying in the other direction.

She staggered back a few steps, dropping the robes in her arms in the process. As she regained her balance, her eyes located the cause of the collision.

A brown-haired boy, probably a few years younger than her, sat on the floor where he had fallen. He was rubbing his head where he had bumped into her.

He seemed to realize he had actually run into someone and jumped to his feet. I’m so sorry! Are you all right? he asked, obviously mortified by his actions.

Yes, don’t worry. I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going, Selissa said, trying to ease the boy’s anxiety. Getting a better look at his face, she guessed he had to be one of the new apprentices. She had never seen him before, and he was too old to be one of the children attending classes there.

She bent down to pick up the clothes strewn across the floor. The boy kept mumbling apologies while he bent down to help her.

I really am sorry. I should have been paying more attention, he said as he picked up most of the robes. There’s a lot here, you shouldn’t be carrying this much. Let me help you.

Selissa laughed softly at his eagerness to make up for running into her. She picked up the last of the clothes before motioning for him to follow her.

Thank you for the help. It is quite a lot to carry alone. She had absolutely no problem carrying it all, but she decided not to mention that. He would probably feel better if he felt like he was helping out.

They walked on, Selissa navigating them through the corridors to where she hoped Calen would be. The boy stared in wonder while they passed by the different gardens and halls of the sanctuary.

How do you find your way around here? It’s huge. I have been getting lost all day, he said, looking like he was trying to make a mental map of the hallways they crossed.

You get used to it, Selissa said, finally spotting Calen talking to one of the lower ranking priests. He looked up and smiled when he saw her approaching.

There you are. I was wondering where you had gone off to, he said.

I’m sorry, Calen, I had to break up an angry mob on the way, she said as she handed him the robes. Ignoring the questioning look on Calen’s face, Selissa turned back to the boy.

Thank you. You were a great help, she said. The boy, pleased by being of help to someone, leaned forward in a bow before turning to leave.

Selissa considered staying to talk to Calen, but she knew he had a lot to take care of. The priests were always busy when the new apprentices arrived.

She waved goodbye to him and turned to leave herself. As she turned her head, she saw Nadia standing close by, staring at them with wide eyes and a horrified look on her face.

Selissa walked towards her slowly and kneeled next to her. What’s wrong, Nadia? she asked softly, careful not to startle her.

That boy . . . Nadia whispered, looking past her. Selissa followed her eyes and saw she was looking at the young apprentice, just as he turned a corner and disappeared.

Yes, what about him? Is there something wrong with him? she asked the girl, who had started to shake.

H-he’s . . . He’s going to die.

Chapter 6

The next day Selissa sat in her secluded garden, thinking about Nadia’s words.

He’s going to die. What did she mean by that? There was nothing wrong with the boy and absolutely no reason why he should get hurt. So why would she say that?

Selissa let her head fall back against a tree and stared into the air. She had been wondering about this all day yesterday, but hadn’t reached a conclusion. Not one that made sense, anyway.

Willing to share your thoughts? a low voice that was familiar by now asked. Or are they not worth my time?

Selissa’s eyes narrowed as she looked up at Alassane. He was standing there watching her, the ever-present cigarette in his hand. She could almost feel the arrogance emitting from him.

You again? Are you stalking me? she asked. She was not in the mood for this.

Alassane let out a huff of smoke. Don’t flatter yourself, woman.

Selissa exhaled deeply, trying to keep her anger in check. It seemed like his very presence managed to send her into a temper tantrum and she didn’t want to give him that power. She rose from her seated position and strode past him, doing her best to ignore the choking smell of tobacco.

Just as she thought he had gotten the hint, she heard him falling into steps with her, a few feet behind.

My, my, you really aren’t good at taking criticism, are you? she heard him say.

"Leave. Me. Alone," she said slowly, as if talking to a challenged kid. Which she was starting to suspect he might be.

Such a temper. You’re really an unpleasant person to talk to.

Then stop following me! Selissa nearly screamed. There really was no getting through to this walking stick. His skull had to be the thickest part of him.

Hasn’t anyone ever told you that you ought to act more like a lady? he asked casually. Oh, what she wouldn’t do to wipe that smirk off his face . . . She felt the last of her patience snap.

Now you listen to me, you arrogant, sexist, narrow-minded— Selissa’s tirade was interrupted by a high-pitched scream. Forgetting all about her anger, she turned to where the sound was coming from. It didn’t take long before she realized it was coming from the ceremony hall.

She cast a shocked look at Alassane, before setting into a sprint.

She reached the hall in record time, Alassane hot on her heels. The screaming had faded into a loud sobbing by the time they entered.

In the middle of the large room, a girl lay on her knees in front of the statue of the archangel Issara. Selissa recognized her as one of the few female apprentices in the temple.

She continued sobbing, oblivious to their presence. Selissa tried to see what had caused the girl’s despair, but her view was blocked by her hunched form. She stepped closer to get a better look, careful not to startle the distraught girl. As she stepped around her, Selissa had to fight off nausea at the sight that met her.

It was gruesome. A body was lying at the statue’s feet. It took her a second to recognize it as the boy who had helped her yesterday. The boy Nadia had said was going to die.

It was an eerie sight. Empty, lifeless eyes were staring blindly into the air, no longer seeing anything. His body was mutilated so terribly that she almost couldn’t recognize him. It looked like every bone in his body had been broken, his limbs spread out at unnatural angles. Half of his face had been ripped to shreds as if some animal had tried to tear it apart. 

But the most terrifying thing was the gaping hole in his chest. She could see the broken ribs sticking out, covered by bloody flesh. Selissa felt a violent urge to throw up when she realized his heart had been ripped out.

She had to avert her eyes and bowed her head to look at the floor. That’s when she noticed it. She hadn’t seen it before because her eyes had been drawn to the bloodied body.

Someone had drawn a symbol on the floor. In blood.

It was crudely drawn, blood splattered everywhere, but Selissa recognized it immediately. How she recognized it she didn’t know, but she knew she had seen it before. It was a demonic mark. The mark of the demon lord Azarial.

A sudden pain shot through her back. Selissa bent over and gasped in shock from the pain.

It felt like the symbol on her back was burning. Like it was reacting to the bloody mark on the floor.

‘It has begun.’ Selissa stiffened in shock at the voice.

A lot of people had been attracted by the screaming, but the voice didn’t belong to any of the newcomers. It was more like she felt it rather than heard it. Like a presence in the back of her head.

The burning in her back had faded into weak heat, but she was still acutely aware of it.

‘It’s a warning,’ the voice sounded again before going quiet.

—issa. Selissa! Selissa looked up, startled, as she realized someone was shouting her name. This voice was far more familiar and far more real to her. Calen was looking at her, concern clear in his eyes. 

Are you okay? he asked worried. She nodded, absentmindedly noting the hysterical girl being led away, while a few of the priests examined the body.

She felt the presence in her head fading away together with the warmth in her back. What is this? she whispered, when she finally found her voice. Calen simply looked at her, a lost expression on his face, but Alassane caught her eyes and held them.

They’ve made their move. This is only the first step.

Chapter 7

They both froze at his words.

Selissa stared at Alassane. What? What are you talking about? she asked, voice rising in frustration. Alassane pretended not to hear her.

They have waited a long time. Something must have changed . . . Or maybe they simply ran out of patience. He said these words as if talking to himself.

"Who are ‘they’? How do you know about this? Who are you?" Selissa wasn’t sure which question to ask first. There seemed to be a million. She could feel herself getting more and more frustrated by the second. She didn’t understand a thing of what was going on and the smell of blood was making her lightheaded. Focus, she told herself firmly. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Calen staring over her shoulder at Alassane.

I think you have some explaining to do, he said. Selissa had never seen Calen look so serious before. There was no trace of the smile that usually graced his face, and the look in his eyes was hard.

Alassane returned Calen’s stare calmly for a moment. Finally he nodded his head slightly. This is not the best place, he said simply. Calen nodded and started walking towards the door, his hand still on Selissa’s shoulder, leading her along. Alassane followed without another word.

ℓ

Ten minutes later Selissa found herself in the room that served as Calen’s study. She and Calen sat facing Alassane, who had chosen to stand leaning against the wall.

Selissa could feel a mist clouding her mind. The entire situation was so surreal, and she had trouble making sense of the chaotic thoughts in her head. She could still smell the stench of blood, despite leaving the body behind. Every time she closed her eyes, she would see the gaping hole where a human heart had been ripped out. She clenched her fists against her knees, trying to force the image from her mind.

Calen gently placed a hand over her closed fist. She sent him a weak smile, trying to reassure him as he watched her worriedly. He squeezed her hand before turning his attention back to Alassane. She could feel how tense he was as he sat waiting for the other man to speak. She had never seen him like that. Calen nodded at Alassane, signalling for him to start his story.

Alassane didn’t seem to be in any hurry. He reached into the pocket of his coat, pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He inhaled deeply before blowing out the smoke.

That boy was killed by a group of people who call themselves the Demios, he said slowly, as if contemplating what to tell them.

The Demios? Selissa said. Somehow that sounded familiar, but she couldn’t remember where she had heard it.

Yes. They’re a decades old clan, consisting of very dangerous people, Alassane said.

Dangerous? You don’t say. You mean the mutilated boy out there is the work of ‘dangerous’ people? Selissa asked sarcastically. Fear and shock was still lingering in her mind and she channeled it into anger. It was easier to deal with anger.

Alassane was not fazed and held her eyes. These people are far more dangerous than you can imagine. They are not only extremely powerful, but also worshippers of demons.

Demon worshippers? If that is so, I see why they would leave the body like that. But why would it make them more dangerous than what we already have seen? Calen said, always the voice of reason.

If they were merely demon worshippers, they wouldn’t be too much of a threat. Humans are, after all, weak beings. But the members of the Demios are not simply humans, Alassane said, his voice becoming more serious.

What do you mean? Selissa asked, her curiosity winning out on her anger.

The Demios consists only of people who have been under the influence of demon magic. Like that red-haired friend of yours, Alassane said, looking at Selissa seriously.

Nadia? But . . . Why? Selissa asked confused.

Alassane was quiet for a moment, before explaining, The people who receive the Mark of the Cursed are all born with special abilities. All of these abilities are unique from each other. Some have powers that make them extremely dangerous in combat, others have abilities that give them knowledge no one else have access to. The thing they have in common is that they are far superior to other humans.

Calen closed his eyes, deep in thought. So you’re saying that this was done by a group of fanatics with demonic abilities? He opened his eyes and looked at Alassane seriously. But why? Why that boy?

The boy probably had nothing to do with this. He was just the sacrifice they used to give their warning, Alassane said.

Warning. That was the word the mystical voice had used too. Selissa bit her lip, wondering if she should mention what she had heard earlier. She decided not to. She reasoned she had just imagined it because of the shock. Besides, she didn’t need them thinking she was going crazy. Enough people thought that already.

Warning? What kind of warning? she asked out loud.

A warning that they have started to move again. And that they will try to complete the ritual that failed years ago, Alassane answered, taking a drag of his cigarette, casual despite the words leaving his mouth. His eyes never left Selissa.

"What ritual? You keep talking like we’re supposed to know. And how do you know all this?" she asked, keeping eye-contact with Alassane. She tried to find out what he hid behind those dark eyes of his, but there was nothing there. They were as calm and emotionless as the sky before a storm.

A ritual they tried to complete several years ago, but their attempt was foiled. What the purpose of the ritual was, I can’t tell you, but I do know that it will have dire consequences if they are able to complete it. And now they’re trying again, to succeed where they failed. Selissa frowned. He clearly knew more than he let on, but she didn’t stress it. I was sent here to make sure they won’t succeed.

Sent by whom? And why come here? Calen asked. He looked like he had a hard time taking all of this in. Selissa couldn’t really blame him.

Who sent me isn’t important, Alassane said, waving off Calen’s concern. He paused for a second, then looked straight at Selissa. That is important is that they’re after you.

She stiffened. Me? Why me?

I don’t know. She knew he was lying through his teeth. He was hiding something. "But they are after you. That means you’re either of use to them, or a threat to them. Either way, it means you will be able to help stop them."

Everything was spinning before her eyes. Selissa put her head in her hands, dizzy from all of this information. Some kind of demon cult had killed that poor boy? They wanted to do some ritual . . . and they wanted her? None of that made sense to her. She was not important. Why would any of this have anything to do with her? Alassane had to be mistaken.

But deep inside, she knew he wasn’t. She had felt it when she saw the symbol on the floor. She had recognized it and knew what it meant. That could not be a coincidence, could it?

She felt the weight of Alassane’s stare on her. What did he expect her to do? Jump in like some kind of hero and save them all? She had no idea what they wanted her for. How could she ever help stop them?

Selissa felt like she was suffocating. Her head spun, and she couldn’t bring herself to focus. She had to get out of there.

This is insane . . . You’re insane, she said to Alassane. Shooting one last look at him, she turned around and stormed out of the room. She heard Calen calling her name faintly, but the only thing she could think about was getting out of there. And away from Alassane.

Chapter 8

Selissa didn’t know how long she had been lying there, just staring at the ceiling. She had tried to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes the image of the poor boy lying maimed on the floor appeared in her mind.

These Demios . . . To literally rip a boy apart just to send a message. What kind of ruthless, disturbed people would do that?

That is important is that they are after you. Alassane’s voice sounded in her head. She closed her eyes, trying to force the memories of yesterday’s conversation from her head. When it didn’t work, she slowly opened them again. Sick of watching the ceiling, she turned to her side.

The view that greeted her was a pair of distressed silver eyes staring back at her from the mirror on the other side of the room. She looked awful. Her eyes were red rimmed from lack of sleep, and her face was pale as death. She was used to not getting a lot of sleep, waking up in the middle of the night from another terrifying nightmare, but it had been a long time since she had looked like that. 

Selissa sat upright in the bed, her feet hitting the floor. She had been wondering about something, something other than Alassane’s words, and since thinking about that conversation wasn’t getting her anywhere, she could at least do something about the other.

She splashed some water in her face in the hopes of getting some color back into her cheeks before heading out to find her target.

She found her in the far eastern corner of the temple, her brother by her side.  As she approached them, she could tell Nadia had been crying. Selissa guessed the news from yesterday had already spread through the sanctuary.

Selissa came to a stop next to the siblings.

How did you know? she asked quietly. Nadia looked up at her with wide eyes, her face covered in barely dried tears. Nijel looked like he had expected, and dreaded, this moment.

How did you know that boy would die? Selissa asked again when Nadia didn’t say anything.

I . . . Nadia started, then hesitated. She seemed to gather her courage before continuing, I saw it.

Selissa’s eyes widened. Saw it? What do you mean? Nadia hung her head, ashamed.

I can see . . . people before they’re going to die, the girl said before going quiet. Nijel put his arm around her, taking a deep breath.

Nadia has an . . . ability. She foresees when people she has met are about to die . . . That’s why she got the mark, he said, meeting Selissa’s eyes. She realized that he was waiting for her judgment. Waiting for her to reject his sister, like everyone else had.

Do you . . . Selissa began, trying to get over the shock of their revelation. Do you see them die? Did she see who did it?

Nadia finally raised her head. The look in her eyes had changed to something Selissa couldn’t quite define.

No, Nadia said. I only see their bodies. When they’re already dead.

I see, Selissa said thoughtfully. So Nadia didn’t see how it happened, or who was responsible. Feeling the girl’s stare, Selissa looked back at Nadia.

You’re not scared of me? Nadia asked in wonder. Selissa blinked in surprise.

"Why would I be scared of you?" she asked puzzled.

Because people always are, Nadia answered. Nijel looked at her sadly.

There’s nothing most people fear more than their own death. No one wants to be around someone who can tell them when they will die, he said.

Selissa couldn’t help but pity her. Not only was she forced to know when everyone she knew would die, she also had to endure them being afraid of her because of it.

I’m sorry, Selissa said. And I’m not afraid of you. It was the truth. She couldn’t say the idea of this girl telling her when and how she was going to die didn’t make her uneasy, but she was not afraid. She was going to die someday, whether someone gave her a heads-up or not.

Both Nadia and Nijel stared at her, Nadia in shocked silence while her brother smiled gratefully at Selissa.

You’re a good person, he said. Selissa frowned.

I’m really not. But I have no right to judge others. She didn’t even know who she was. Who was she to say she was better than anyone else?

A strange feeling of being watched washed over her. Selissa cast a look over her shoulder and saw Alassane standing there, watching them silently.

She didn’t want to see him right now. But deep inside, she knew she had no choice.

Take care, she muttered and patted Nadia on the head. Then she turned away and began walking towards the last person she wanted to talk to.

As she got closer, the smell of smoke assaulted her. She crinkled her nose in disgust. The man’s lungs had to look like coal by now.

Strange company you keep, Alassane said when she came to a stop before him.

With all the time I’m spending around you lately, I’m inclined to agree, Selissa shot back.

A disdainful snort was the only response she got.

So what do you want? she asked. I guess you didn’t come here to tell me you disapprove of the people I hang around.

I was serious, you know, Alassane said simply

Thrown off, Selissa looked at him in confusion. What?

About you being able to help stop them, he said. The usual arrogance was gone from his voice, and he looked at her seriously.

And I was being serious about you being insane, Selissa said calmly. I know nothing about this madness, and even if I did, I’m nothing special. Why would I be of any help?

If you were nothing special, they wouldn’t be targeting you. Either they need you, or they need you out of the way. Either way, it’s important for them to get to you. And it’s important to us that they don’t.

Us? Who are ‘us’? I don’t remember agreeing to any of this, Selissa snapped. All of this was insane. I’m not getting involved in this. You’re on your own. She turned her back to him and started to walk away. She didn’t know where she was going, but as long as it was away from him, it would be an improvement.

Don’t you want to know what the symbol on your back means? Alassane asked so quietly that she almost didn’t hear him.

Selissa stopped dead in her tracks. The symbol. How did he . . .?

She slowly turned to face him. Every muscle in her body was tensed, and she clenched and unclenched her hands repeatedly to calm herself. What did the symbol have to do with all of