Angel Dust, Aurora Morgenstern [most read book in the world .TXT] 📗

talent. I heard you had your first session with Gabriel today. Mind if I ask how it went?"

"Not at all. Her explained an awful lot about powers and stuff to me and then we meditated. Turns out that earth isn´t my thing, but fire is. I managed to conjure up a small flame!", I tell him proudly and I believe I see a small ghostly smile on his face, the look on his face seems to be almost nostalgic. Which in turn makes me realise that I don´t actually know how old he is, I mean he looks about 24 but so does Michael and he has been around since the dawn of time.

"Would it be rude if I asked you how old you are?", I ask in a small, almost shy voice that doesn´t sound like me at all. But then again I picture myself differently than what I what other people think I am like all together.

"I was turned on my twenty fourth birthday about two hundred years ago. I went out for a couple of pints with my mates and picked a fight with the wrong person, ended up floating in the Themes with a cut throat. Some birthday present that was!", he tells me and his voice is humerous but I can see the slight bitter expression on his face. It makes me uneasy to see all those hidden, shadowed expressions, people who feel like they have to hide their emotions worry me. I wear my heart on my sleeves, you´ll always be able to tell how I feel with me. I can never keep anything in at all, much to the annoyance of my human friends. Wonder what happened to them, my funeral must have been awful for them, I wonder wether Shauna will be alright. She was always such a cheerful, bright and loving person. I do hope my "death" didn´t upset her too much, I wouldn´t want to be the reasons for shadows to cloud her sunshine. 

"Penny for your thoughts?", I must have done that whole blankly staring into space thing again that I tend to do when I´m thinking.

"I was just thinking what my friends are doing right now...I do hope they are alright", I confess immdeiately.

"I understand that better than anyone possibly, I watched my friends die from afar. Well I made Gabriel tell me what became of them sinc ei wasn´t permitted to contact them", there is a deep sadness and I feel like hugging him but I am unsure wether he would want me to, so I keep my distance.

"I´m sorry, didn´t mean to be a buzzkill", I apologise, unsure what else to do really.

"My fault for asking", he shrugs. "So come on let us have a look at that fire!", he says encouragingly and looks me straight in the eyes, there is a trace fo excitement in them now. It´s slightly unnerving the way he just changes from one emotion to the next within a glimpse. I close my eyes, feeling a bit ridiculous, and repeat Gabriels earlier routine. Since I know what I am doing this time it works a lot faster and I manage to keep the flame up even when I raise my eyes to look at Nathaniel. The flame is mirrored in his dark eyes, breaking into dozens of different facettes of colour within them. He´s quite fasinating to observe, epsecially when eh thinks he isn´t being watched. There is something strange about him. 

"You can stop admirinng my good looks now, love", he remarks in a thick welsh accent taht doesn´t sound like him at all. I can only assume he put it on to amuse me.

"Don´t do that, it doesn´t suit you at all! You´re not a welshman...or are you?", after a moments consideration he might as well be. I mean he died two hundred years ago, he could have lived anywhere before he died in London. 

"Nah, Londoner born and bred. I do speak a tiny bit of welsh though, but I gott admit if you wanna hear a true welshman you´ll have to talk to Raphael. I suppose the welsh got it from him, considering he was there before there was such a thing as Wales"

"You´re joking right?", I cannot imagine an archangel creating an entire speech pattern.

"On the contrary, but you´ll see or rather hear for yourself. He will be training you too won´t he? He´s a good teacher as long as you keep up. But beware he gives everyone annoying nicknames and is probably the only angel willing to stand up to Michael that doesn´t back down all the time", I can´t tell for sure but I believe I can hear a bit of admiration or maybe jealousy in his voice. 

"Does Gabriel not stand up to Michael at all? I mean they´re brothers, aren´t they?", I am fairly confused. Why wouldn´t they be willing to stand up to Michael, he isn´t all that scary. Yet again I haven´t really gotten on his abd side yet and from what I hear I don´t think I want to.

"Gabriel is more of a pacifist, he doesn´t pick fights and he doesn´t like being involved in them unless necessary. The only time I have seen him go really mad is when he had a feude with Raphael over Shekinah and believe me nothing is more dangerous than a righteous man when he forgets his principles"

"Him and Raphael had a feude over Shekinah?I met her on my first day, what exactly were they fighting over?", I inquire curiously, I did not know there is such a thing as heavenly gossip.

"Shekinah was Gabriels student and well a little more than that if you get me, but then Raphael well he caught her attention. Long story short she broke Gabriels heart and he blamed Raphael for it, the two haven´t been the same since. I mean they´re civil, but they´re not as brotherly as they were", wow if my friends knew that even angels have these sort of problems...It appears that something in the atmosphere has shifted, I feel less uncomfortable and things have moved more into a direction of friendly chatter. I wonder if Nathaniel considers me a friend, I mean I sort of think of him as a friend already which when i think about it is more than a little odd. 

 "So they´re fighting because Raphael stole Gabriels girlfriend?", I simplify.

"Well we call them consorts here but yes I do suppose it comes down to that", Nathaniel smiles and I can´t help but smile back. 

 "So have you got a consort or whatever?", I ask lamely and I admit I may be a little too interested in the answer than I´d like to admit.

"Not at the moment. And you, any significant other back with the mortals?", coming from him the term sounds less condescending and more affectionate. Less like he feels superior to them.

"No, the last one ran off with the prom queen that night", I sigh dramatically.

"I keep forgetting you´re american! What part of the states were you from?", this whole speaking of my life in the past tense thing is something I´m going to have to come to terms with, it´s hard to think of yourself as dead to the world when you are living and breathing. 

"I was born in Baton Rouge but when my mom got a divorce, me and her moved down to New Orleans. I loved it there, the french quarter, the music and the surrealistic feel of the town. New orleans is magic for any booklover and artist!", I exclaim in a dreamy voice. The truth is I miss my home, I miss walking down the cobblestone alleyways, the old buildings, Phillipe the guitarrist that plays nothing but old french ballads, the smell of sage and magic in the air. To me New Orleans is a place like no other, there is something about it that is unique and no matter how hard I tried I was never able to capture it quite right in my drawings. 

"Did you know New Orleans lies on a spot of very old magic? The legend has it and I can tell you it was Raphael, that an angel once got gravely wounded on a battle ground where new orleans is today and that the power and grace in his blood still flow though the town", he might want to improve his story telling skills but U have to admit it´s kind of cute how he is trying to impress me with all his insider knowledge. Or maybe eh isn´t trying to impress me at all, I mentally shrug, it doesn´t matter much either way. 

"What was the battle about?", I inquire, always the relentless history nerd. 

"Raphael fought one of hells demons, Pythius. Pythius was a demon of liars and deceiving spirits. He was tormenting what few settlers there were at the time and they prayed to the archangel Raphael. God knows why anyone would pray to him, he´s very annoying and does more talking than actually getting the job done. I guess he can afford to talk though, he is an impressively skilled warrior. I´m sure wiht todays education you have heard of the greek god mars, Raphael beat the guy in a duel", I see that Raphael seems to have quite the admirer. I look forward to meeting him immensly, he seems like he has a sense of humour. 

"Wait a moment, the olympian gods actually exist?", hearing that is like a dream come true for me.

"Yeah in one of the parallell realms, not many left fo them though. They butchered each other when the last half blood came along. If you´re lucky Michael will take you on one of the meetings some day!", I still don´t really understand the whole parallel realms or heavens thing but I suppose one day I will and just imagine meeting Athena or Artemis. Once again time has flown by in what seemed to me like an instant, I only notice now because slowly but surely I am beginning to shiver from the cold that is creeping up into the forest. The peaceful clearing looks much more eerie at night with a soft blanket of fog creeping up on me like ghostly fingers. I surpress a sudden urge of panic, I donßt want to embarass myself infront of Nathaniel. I am one of these people who are more than a little scared of the darkk, always have been, absolute darkness and not being able to see my surroundings is possibly my biggest fear. The fear of the unknown, as a child I would refuse to go to bed without leaving some sort of tiny light on somewhere and when my dad insisted on turning them, complaining about the electricity bill I would keep a flashlight under my pillow. I was never the brave kid, always the scared little child afraid of the dark, of monsters lurking in the shadows, hands grasping at your ankles from under the bed. 

"I think I´ll need to get going, I´ve got training tomorrow and it´s getting very late", I look over to Nathaniel as I say this and I am awestruck for a moment or two, his wings have almost completely melted into the background. He looks almost human and yet the shadows throw odd angels on his face, much darker than usual. He is almost frightening in the dark and my heart skips a beat as his eyes linger on me for just a moment too long once again.

"I´ll walk you home", he offers kindly and my heart rate slows. The moment of panic passes just as quick as it came on me. You haven´t had a panic attack since you were 19, Felice. Get it together! We spend the walk home in absolute silence and it hangs heavy between us, even heavier than it did this afternoon, it´s not an awkward silence. It´s a deafening sort of choking silence. I nervously clutch onto the hem of my t-shirt, a habit from my therapy