Seraphim Breaking: A Seraphim Resistance Novella, #2

By Stephanie BwaBwa

An angel determined to rule in a world of smoke and mirrors will uncover a curse that will shatter everything she's ever known.

 

Tayurah Wyld is a sheltered and underestimated angel in a court that refuses to take her seriously. As the High Lady's only child, and sole heir, she's destined to one day wear the crown. 

As the lowest ranking angel of her court without magic, Tayurah struggles to prove she can wear the crown and serve the hardened angels of the world she calls home.

She believes she has what it takes to rule, until poisonous shadows surface beneath her skin, threatening to cost her everything she worked for. 

Tayurah quickly learns not only she can't remember much of anything, but she's also not being told the truth of what's happening in her world.

Tayurah will fight for her right to rule in a world without respect for her crown. But will she be able to prove herself to the court and the angels? Or is it already too late?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elledelle Publishing
• Release date: Dec 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9798201876166

Book preview

Chapter 1

One

Obsidian dust slipped through her fingers as she thought over the delivery of her report again. She rubbed her narrow fingers together, feeling delayed tingles from the sulfuric particles in the volcanic ash. The Grand Assembly had looked at her like an unschooled yënn . An immature child. She had plowed through her progress report on the temple construct. Shared the updated statistics of Conlethellien perception of the Assembly’s decision on social and economic issues.

Her voice was even the entire time. Her report was thorough, excellent, bar and none. And yet. The ancient bastards had stared at her like a grunting makàk that no longer interested them. They had turned back to their scrolls and started speaking to each other, moving on to other matters.

A wave of anger sparked in her chest at their arrogance. Her eyes flickered to her hands, catching the hint of thin gray lines. Unnatural veins peeked through her skin reminding her she was losing control. Lack of control meant she wasn’t ready for greater responsibility. And that was unacceptable. Her breath escaped her, forming a small puff before her nose. The frostyelle season was starting to settle in. The snip in the air nicked her skin, making her teeth chatter.

Clearing her mind, she marveled at her low hanging flowers. Her world was one of sulfur, ash, and volcanic dust. Yet, even in this rocky wasteland, her flowers managed to bloom against all odds.

She smiled, reaching forward to touch a petal. Orange and mauve tangoed in her palms, with tiny black streaks leading to the stem. The petal was bigger than both her hands, hanging off the stem that was three times her height. This one was a baby, still growing. Once it reached its full size, she’d be able to slide down them like a lavafall.

Tayurah, darling.

She blinked, slowly turning. Facing her maederì, her cheeks burned. The High Lady of Conlethelle bore a smile that showed her dimples, waiting for Tayurah’s attention to come back to Astraea.

Sorry, maederì, she mumbled. She dipped her chin, fingers fiddling in the dirt. Her nails hit black sand and hard rock.

Where’d you go off to this time?

Tayurah chuckled. Nowhere interesting.

Tayurah stood, her sandaled feet balanced on thin air. They had flown to the mid-ranges of the castle gardens. The garden was almost the size of the West Wing of the castle. Her wing. Flowers bristled with a myriad of colors all around her. The smallest hung a few feet off the ground below them while the greatest pressed high to level with the tip of the castle.

Tayurah, don’t be coy. I can see it in the bow of your lips. Something is bothering you.

Tayurah fiddled with her cloak, losing her nails in the folds of emerald velvet. They did it again, maederì. The Grand Assembly. Her eyes flicked to the High Lady. What’s the point in having a seat at the table if the council won’t even listen to the ideas I’ve brought?

She huffed, her shoulders hunched. It took all her energy to keep from appearing defeated before the council of the High Lady. They were the High Lady’s closest advisors, and solidified all policies into Creed for Conlethelle. Tayurah knew, if she could win them, her shot at being High Veillant, the position just beneath High Lady, would be a breeze.

High Lady Jrasnyne flew forward, five wing pairs gently pulsing under the starlight. She took both of Tayurah’s hands in hers. Maederì’s hands were cold as the settling winter. Tayurah leaned into the familiarity, tempted to crush her face into the High Lady’s neck and burst into tears.

She was being treated like a yënn. As if she wasn’t the declared Heiress of the High Lady and soon to be ruler of the kingdom. High Lady Jrasnyne lifted Tayurah’s chin with a narrow finger.

My darling elèl. You knew they would be difficult to win over. What do I always tell you?

Never back down from proving I’m the one Anglin they should all fear. Underestimating me will be their downfall. I know... Tayurah trailed off, still downtrodden.

High Lady Jrasnyne smiled, holding Tayurah’s cheek. So why do you bow before their pettiness so easily?

Because maederì, the old farts make my skin itch. Especially Veillant Kelbryn. She’s forever nipping at everything I say. Tearing through my reports. It’s like she wakes up waiting for me to snap a wing or something.

Tayurah clucked her tongue. Oh, she couldn’t stand the old crone. More than once Tayurah fought the urge to throw one of the daggers she kept tucked on her person in the Veillant’s eye.

High Lady Jrasnyne chuckled. She took Tayurah’s hand, and they began to fly, coasting over the flowers, weaving between the mammoth-sized petals, lost in a world of colors beneath the stars.

I remember when I was High Veillant, serving under my predecessor, the High Lady said. If you think you have it tough, you should’ve seen them. I couldn’t get a word in during meetings. They would whisper to one another behind their scrolls. As if I couldn’t see them.

High Lady Jrasnyne rolled her eyes. Tayurah laughed. Guess she wasn’t the only one dealing with stubborn Archim who obsessed over their power.

How did you make them listen? Tayurah asked. Her cheeks stung as the cold caressed her face. A petal brushed her cloak as they flew past, making her body tingle.

Honestly, the High Lady began. One dawn, when I was on a bad edge, and exhausted with their attitudes, in the middle of the meeting, I shot a bolt of Flame at the High Lord. I kept doing so until I drained his fôrs and he dropped dead, tumbling onto the stonetop table. They looked at me in horror, but the death of the High Lord meant I was now their High Lady and any word against mine would be treason.

Tayurah’s jaw dropped. The High Lady looked at her through the corner of her eye.

What?

"That’s how you became High Lady?" Tayurah’s eyes bulged.

The High Lady chuckled, directing Tayurah to a eullip flower. It was one of the greater flowers in the garden, spanning several wingspans in width, and over half the length of the castle in height. They landed on one of the petals, sitting down on the drooping fold. Tayurah’s wings shuddered and spread, as if breathing in, pleased.

Tayurah, how many times do I have to tell you, power isn’t earned. It’s... She trailed off, waiting for Tayurah to finish the sentence.

Taken, Tayurah said.

The sentiment felt wrong. She shouldn’t have to cut another down to rise. To Tayurah, that wasn’t true power. That was imposed fear. She didn’t want to lead through fear. She wanted to lead with loyalty. Tayurah bit her lip, trying not to squirm under the intense gaze of her maederì.

You’re still not comfortable with taking what you want, she noted.

It’s not that maederì. I just feel better when I earn it. My goal isn’t to dictate. It’s to serve.

Serve. The High Lady repeated the words, turning her sight to the massive castle of emerald glass standing high before them. It rested like a crown on top of the largest, dormant volcano, in Conlethelle.

The foundation of the castle was embedded in the mouth of the volcano, bleeding into the canyon of ash-colored rock and stone. To the south of the castle, a half dawn’s journey by flight away, lied the temple construct. Even from her perch, Tayurah could see the bottom half of the temple was built, while the top half was non-existent like a gaping mouth.

To the east lay homes, markets, and other grounds Tayurah didn’t know, because she had not been allowed to leave the castle and explore Conlethelle and her secrets. And to the west were gargantuan volcanoes that looked as old as the Conlethellien dirt itself, and just as shady. She was forbidden from ever going to that region of the kingdom.

Tayurah looked out over the kingdom of the Lesser Angels, aware of how much of it was so distant from her. And yet she was determined to lead them all.

You want to serve, the High Lady said. Your soft heart continues to confuse subservience with leadership.

High Lady Jrasnyne placed a mahogany hand on Tayurah’s knee, tenderly brushing the feathers of her wing that hung on her lap. She lifted her free hand toward Conlethelle and its endless volcanoes, and secrets.

"This doesn’t stand, with just subservience, Tayurah. All of this doesn’t remain in my hands, and one dawn, your hands, just through subservience. The Lesser Angels in this kingdom are not the simple, easy-going sort. Especially the Archim. She grunted, eyes of deep orange, coated in crimson, piercing the world below them. They’re not sheep, but wolves. While sheep bend to a tender hand, wolves only yield to whips."

Tayurah pressed her lips into a thin line. A rumble in her gut disagreed, but she kept her mouth shut. All her energy had been spent on another useless Assembly meeting. Now, all she wanted to do was go to her chambers, snuggle beneath her duvet, and lose herself in a book.

I’m told you have an Emberziene Trial tomorrow, the High Lady changed the subject. Tayurah was tempted to call her out on it, except she was caught off guard herself. Burning stars. She’d forgotten she had a trial tomorrow.

She was physically in shape, but she was mentally tired. She wasn’t ready to go into the spiritscape. Tayurah groaned, tipping her face into her hands.

Never a dull moment being Heiress, is it?

Tayurah peeked through her fingers at the High Lady, and just stared. For a moment, her maederì only stared back. Something danced in her eyes beneath the blazing orange, but Tayurah could never guess what. Then, they tumbled into laughter. A tension Tayurah didn’t realize had been mounting, left her, like a weight lifting off of her shoulders.

Not at all, Tayurah answered. Maybe I can get away with not doing it.

Not likely.

Agh, maederì. Daeyann can’t force me to go into the Emberziene Trial.

Oh?

The High Lady’s eyebrow rose high, hiding a secret. Her eyes flicked to over Tayurah’s shoulder, a smile creeping onto her smooth, sharp-angled face. The curves of her ears twitched, amused.

Why don’t you tell him that yourself?

Tayurah whipped around to find the young general staring directly at her, balancing in the air over the bridge leading to the gardens from the West Wing. Tayurah swallowed bile. General Daeyann wore a deep frown, and lightning danced in his eyes.

Cursed shadows, this couldn’t be good.

Are you going to tell him? The High Lady whispered in her ear. Tayurah almost shoved her off the petal.

You’re not funny, maederì.

Tayurah grunted, pushing to her feet.

High Lady Jrasnyne tumbled into laughter, the sound like bells chiming on an offbeat, as Tayurah spread her wings, and flew down to the waiting general.

General Daeyann, Tayurah said in greeting.

Suit up, Heiress.

Tayurah bristled at his curt tone. Brute! He towered over her like a midget he had to tolerate. She opened her mouth, meaning to remind him of who she was. But the seraph bent down, staring at her with thunder in his domineering posture. Her words died on her tongue as a slight tremble snaked into her shoulders.

The trial isn’t till tomorrow. You can brood at me then, she whispered.

Wrong. His deep voice rumbled through her lithe body. The hairs on her arms spiked.

Excuse me?

I didn’t stutter. Suit up. His eyes flashed silver, his wings beating in the wind as they balanced in the air. You’re going into the Emberziene Trial now.

Chapter 2

Two

Tayurah’s feet slammed against the rocky terrain. She snarled, cursing Daeyann’s name for a thousand cycles to the midnight fires of Zrexelle. Breath ragged, she ran for her life. If she didn’t get herself out of this forest soon, she’d be dead.

She stomped past trees that loomed high above her. It was all so intimidating. She dove beneath a low hanging branch, spun around a wide trunk, and leaped over fallen twigs. Her nostrils flared, muscles straining. Blood pumped in her ears making her neck hot.

Tayurah knew this charade of evasion was about to end. She wasn’t stupid. The beast was toying with her. This was a game, and she was running out of plays. Thick silver fog descended beneath the canopy of trees. Brimstone filled the dusk air making her choke.

Tayurah paused, bending over to cough. She scratched at her parched throat, eyes stinging. What she wouldn’t give for some of maederì’s eucaltys tea right about now. A thundering roar made her ears pop. She broke off into a sprint, running faster. She wasn’t about to be food for the monster running after her.

The roar was close.

Too close.

Loud booms crashed in the forest somewhere behind her. Tayurah’s wings twitched in her spine. She felt the feathers brush her legs, silently begging. To spread open, to fly off, carrying her far away from here. Flying would help her escape the beast...

Only to send her straight into the clutches of the Seraphim hunting her down.

Daeyann had some nerve setting up a trial as dangerous as this. Maederì had warned him, more than once, about pushing her too far. Her last warning had left him a nasty scar on his ebony face. The Menders healed him of course. But not before the entire castle fell into petty gossip. Only fear of the lightning in his fists made the chatter stop. Daeyann had calmed down since then. Her training sessions were lighter. Her Emberziene Trials were less challenging.

Until now.

Tayurah didn’t know how many Seraphim were in the spiritscape. Raven’s bones, she didn’t care. In theory, nothing she saw or experienced here was real. It was an ethereal testing ground to train her for potential real-world experiences. The thing was it felt real. She could feel pain, hunger, and exhaustion. And the only way out of here, was by triumph, or death.

Not once, she’d been caught by Seraphim in the spiritscape. Burning bastards gave her several somethings to cry about before she was finally yanked out of the Emberziene Trial. She had woken up so disoriented, Mender Kowynn had put her on cloudrest for wèks.

A thin branch caught her cheek cutting a thin line across it. Warm blood slowly trickled down. Her knees screamed for a break. But she couldn’t stop.

If the thing caught her... she refused to think about it. Tayurah ran, zooming through the forest. Her eyes landed on a pile of dead leaves in passing, and grimaced. Looking away she kept running, ignoring the various shapes of old bones peeking beneath the leaves.

Drums beat in her chest, urging her faster, faster, faster.

She managed a deep breath. Her lungs drank the air in with gratitude. The fog had thinned. She was reaching the end of the clearing. If she could get back to the open landscape, maybe she could make for one of the volcanoes and hide until this burning trial was over.

Tayurah thought about the warm sheets of her bed. The hot mug of kako waiting for her by a plate of strawbur tarts, and strips of honey roasted meat. She couldn’t wait to get back to her scrollbooks. The steaming, forbidden romance was finally getting to the juicy part.

Lost in her thoughts, she noticed how still the forest had gotten. An ominous hush made the hairs on her neck rise. She swallowed, looking around in the dark trying to make out any shadows, her feet slowing to a light jog. Her chest squeezed a final warning.

Then a roar broke out directly at her right. Tayurah yelped, her hearts jumping into her throat. The monster crashed through the trees, its eyes locked on Tayurah.

Tayurah blinked, staring at what was chasing her.

Fires of Zrexelle, it couldn’t be. For a moment, all Tayurah could do was stare. Her head tilted back, eyes rising to take in the beast at its full height. The reptilian mammoth had a head the size of a boulder, with teeth to match. She had a wide haunch, with a long tail whipping like a razor behind her. Every swipe took down another helpless tree. Her arms were short, close to her torso, ending in vicious, hooked claws. And those eyes. Ancient wisdom danced in them, watching Tayurah.

Zrex, zrex, zrex.

It was a Zaur. Daeyann had the brass to drop a Zaur in here. And a ayèl one at that. Tayurah wanted to curse, her hands shaking. Ayèl Zaurs were the worst. Territorial, prideful, rude...

The gargantuan reptile looked at her and grinned. As if she could read Tayurah’s mind. As if she took the insults as a compliment. Her grin stretched. Something shiny on her teeth was a warning bell. Run.

You are the High Lady’s Heiress, no? The Zaur chuckled.

Tayurah’s knees quaked, terrified. The dusk seemed to get darker around them.