Chapter 11. Night Prayer

Valorth scratched his head in confusion, wondering whether this was something to worry about. He would have expected Adion to tell him if he was going somewhere during the night.

However, after knowing him all his life, Valorth knew that Adion was a smart man who could handle himself. Even if he ran into trouble, he would find a way to deal with it.

Still, Valorth wondered whether he could ever be so sure in such times.

For a fleeting moment, he considered praying to the Angel of Arms for Adion’s protection, before remembering himself and the current circumstances. It truly felt strange not having an angel to watch over you.

As he lay back down on his bed, he realised that was not the case. Valorth did have an angel watching over him. One to whom he owed his life. After remembering this, his mind flashed back to when he had tried to offer thanks to the angel after facing the demon. He had not received an answer then, but what about now?

Valorth rose from his bed and knelt on the floorboards. He wished he knew more about Kacel, so that he could use an appropriate mediator to pray with.

Yet, what he did possess was her true name, and it had been enough to earn her attention before.

Valorth cleared his throat before speaking. “O Great Angel of Kacel, the one who is oppressed… do you hear my prayers?”

For a while, nothing changed around him, and he wondered whether he had offered the angel another unheard prayer. Until he opened his eyes.

Instead of finding himself in the modest room of Mother’s Arms tavern, he found himself in a realm of darkness, gently being tugged toward a golden spotlight in the distance.

As he approached, he was met with the sight of the familiar, beautiful yet tragic figure of Kacel. Her scarred, naked body was chained to a giant wheel, and her appearance was shrouded, all but for her long purple hair, which draped across her body like a robe.

“Young Valorth,” the melodic voice sounded from behind the shadows. “A pleasure it is to see that you’re alive.”

At the sound of her words, Valorth felt his spirit relax. Amidst all the chaos in the physical world, speaking in the spirit felt like an escape.

Valorth thought aloud. “Thanks to you, Great Angel. I hope you received my prayer of thanks?”

To ask such a question of an angel would usually be seen as stepping out of bounds; however, Valorth felt comfortable speaking to Kacel, yet still ensured that he maintained his respect.

“I heard,” she replied in what seemed to be a pleased tone. “Though I was unable to pull you into my domain at the time, due to my… circumstances. I’m sure you understand.”

Kacel nodded toward her chained arms and legs.

So the chains even limit her capabilities in the spiritual world? How can the heavens be so cruel?

At that moment, he wished he could somehow unravel all the secrets of the world and discover the history behind Kacel and how she had become oppressed. Such a thought put an end to any enjoyment.

However, Valorth then remembered that, in a way, he was slowly unravelling the secrets of the world. The strange dreams he had been experiencing daily, though cryptic, had told him many things.

And he recalled the last vision, displaying the intimate scene between Kacel and Armaneus.

Valorth decided not to bring it up and instead mentioned the current state of the world.

“Angel Armaneus has descended onto our world,” he said suddenly. “Were you aware of this?”

Kacel’s constantly swaying hair stilled for a moment, and Valorth felt his spirit turn cold, which was a subtle reminder that even though she was chained, he still stood before a being of strength he couldn’t even imagine.

“I did. It was an event that was fated to happen: the first descent of the angels.”

The angel’s tone had lost some of its melodic beauty and become something closer to monotone.

It’s clear that this is something that bothers her.

“Could you tell me why he descended?” Valorth asked urgently. “What is his goal in the physical world?”

There was so much more he wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to push his luck. This was all he believed he would be able to get out of her.

Kacel let out a beautiful sigh that caused the wound in her abdomen to contract slightly.

Yes… she’s going to talk!

“If I told you the intentions of angels, you might cease to exist.”

Valorth’s spirit deflated. A feeling similar to a smile being wiped off one’s face.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“But there is one thing I can assure you of. Whether you believe it or not, Armaneus is a good being. As long as you do not become his enemy, you should have nothing to worry about,” Kacel said in what seemed to be a final tone.

"..." Valorth remained silent.

It was after that that the realm slowly started to fade. Angel Kacel let out a chuckle.

“That is all the time I can give you today, little one.”

“Why?” Valorth began to ask, but before he could, the world around him started to shift, and he was returned to his physical body, kneeling by his bed.

It took him a few breaths to control his rapidly beating heart, but Valorth had started to become accustomed to entering the spiritual world.

His eyes glanced to the window, where the moon hung high in the foggy skies. Sunrise was still far away, and yet there was no sign of Adion.

Assuming that his friend would eventually return, Valorth went back to his bed. However, before he got there, a cold chill suddenly entered the room, sending shivers through his spirit.

At first, he wondered if the door had been left open and allowed a breeze in. But when he looked and found that not to be the case, he became worried. The chill came again, sending a wave of uneasiness crashing over him.

Something doesn’t feel right… I’ve felt this before.

Valorth found that the more he walked around the room, the more and less powerful the uneasiness felt. The closer he was to the door, the worse it became.

With shaky hands, he pushed his door open and was met with the dark corridor of the Mother’s Arms tavern. No noise could be heard, but the strange presence felt more powerful than before, and it seemed to be coming from the room next door.

Valorth made his way over to the door and placed his ear against it, listening for what might be happening on the other side.

At first he heard nothing, only feeling the uneasiness grow stronger. Then a faint growling sound came from behind the door; a fierce, animalistic growl, as if some sort of creature had found its prey.

Shit!

Valorth began to back away from the door, but before he could, it flung open and a pale hand reached out, grabbing his wrist and dragging him inside.

Amidst the commotion, Valorth lost his balance and toppled over, landing face-first on the ground. With as much speed as he could muster, he rolled onto his back and glanced upwards. There he saw what he assumed was a priest.

The man was chubby and wore long black robes with buttons down the front, reaching to his ankles, and a white garment flowing from his neck to the bottom of his chest. Around the man’s neck was a necklace with the symbol of the sword on it, marking him as a priest, the lowest-ranking religious leader of a church.

Yet rather than carrying the look of a man blessed by the Angel of Arms, the priest’s skin was pale as snow. His eyes were bloodshot red, and drool constantly fell from his mouth, as though he were some sort of animal. His body spasmed uncontrollably, forcing him to rip out chunks of his already balding black hair.

Valorth rolled to his feet, creating distance between them. The room was small and enclosed like his own, and there was no lighting but for the moonlight shining through the window.

“You’ve stumbled somewhere you shouldn’t have!” the priest growled, casting his gaze upon Valorth. A chill spread through Valorth’s body as the presence of a demon struck him heavily.

Valorth tried to scan the room for a weapon, and on the desk, beside a worn journal, lay a short sword that seeped with black shadowy energy.

He reached out to grab it, but as he did, a sharp pain shot through his head. He squeezed his eyes against the pain and felt evil forces fighting him from unseen places. In a split second he threw the knife to the ground.

It’s a cursed weapon?

“You seem surprised,” the priest growled, knees bent and fingers clawed wildly. “You did not expect a priest to be versed in the dark arts.”

From the way the priest spoke of himself, Valorth understood one thing: this was not a man who had been unfortunately possessed by demons, but rather a man who had openly welcomed the dark spirits into his being.

He was a plague that needed to be cleansed from the world, and Valorth believed that he had the means to do it.

With confidence, he closed his eyes and directed the power of his corrupted heart to where it needed to go. He found it surprisingly easy, like directing water through pipes that ran throughout his body.

When he opened his eyes, the sound of glass shattering spread throughout the room, and a golden hue took over his vision. His gaze landed on the priest, and as it did, the man seemed to be struck by an unknown force.

For a moment, he was brought to a halt, but then, moments afterwards, he returned to his usual state. Valorth let out a gasp of shock as he realised the Eye of the Remember did not have the same effect on the priest as it had on the demon in the palace.

The priest tilted his head back and let out a maniacal laugh. “You tried to destroy me using my own memories? My past is pure, boy. You cannot fight me. And why bother, when the angels have fallen from the heavens? Our empire is—”

The priest’s words were cut off as he watched Valorth dash toward him, ready to engage in combat. Caught off guard, the priest stumbled, allowing Valorth to close the distance.

Valorth was slightly below average height and weight, and he was not trained in combat. However, what he planned to do did not require martial arts, it simply required brains, and the intention to kill.

Valorth grabbed the bed sheets as he passed them, throwing them toward the priest to obscure his vision. With one swipe, the man’s fingers clawed through the sheets, tearing them in half.

His claws were now sharp, and would have taken off Valorth’s head as well if the young man hadn’t ducked low, grabbing the priest’s legs and pushing forward with all his might.

The priest toppled onto his back, and Valorth straddled him, now staring the pale priest in the eyes.

Just as he was about to start raining down punches, the priest made a strange sound deep in his throat and spat purple liquid from his mouth, splattering it across Valorth’s face.

“Agh!”

The liquid burned, making him lose sight of his opponent. The priest began to struggle beneath him, and all Valorth could do was use his weight to try to keep the man down by pressing himself against the man’s neck.

“It’s only a matter of time, boy. My claws will sink into you!”

The struggle continued until Valorth suddenly felt something sharp pressing against his palms. He couldn’t see what it was, but his memory served him well.

It was the necklace. The one with the symbol of a sword at its end. It was required that the necklace remain sharpened at all times in order to please the Angel of Arms.

It took no time for Valorth’s next moves to form in his mind. With all the strength he could muster, he pinched the necklace tightly and drove it upwards, feeling it penetrate something soft before slashing sideways.

A warm liquid began to drip onto his hand, followed by gargling sounds that came from the priest. The resistance beneath his body slowly stilled, and Valorth found his vision returning to him as the liquid on his face started to evaporate.

When he looked down, he saw the image of a priest impaled in the neck by his own necklace. His eyes had rolled into the back of his head, and his tongue hung out of his mouth. Blood seeped out from the wound and stained the priests clothing, as well as the ground beneath him.

Valorth rolled off the body and found himself shaking with nerves. It was his first time taking a human life, but he found himself more focused on the fact that, for a second time in a week, his life had come so close to ending.