Nathan had told her, “There is nothing worse than being stripped of your name, it’s like ripping out part
of your soul. I’ve watched it been done, seen the torture in the eyes of one who’s been stripped. Most
end up dead within a week, not many are strong enough to go through the change. The descendants
may give you the cold shoulder, but their hate is fueled by their fear of a ten-year-old Lightwatcher who
survived almost unscathed by that which has killed many. You have a strong soul Clare, don’t let their
masks deter you when you have barely surfaced.” She didn’t understand why he told her that, but now
she knew, it gave her a semblance of courage when Annabelle gestured, she turns to the crowd.
A bearded man stood up, he had a rough exterior that gave her the creeps, but it fueled her
determination because she saw him, he might’ve looked strong, but she caught the nervous tell in his
left hand before he put it behind his back and sneered, “How can you be one of us if you don’t even
bear the mark, where’s your name child?”
Frustrated, her mind drew a blank at her brother’s lecture regarding laws, she snapped, “My father and
mother are Lightwatchers, descendants of the archangels Mikael and Gabriel.”
Her cheeks flushed, and a burn lodged in her throat as she swallowed her saliva, “I have amnesia, my
names are gone, but I’m sure you all know that.”
Annabelle saw the tears in Clare’s eyes, and retorted on Clare’s behalf, “The girl has spoken her point,
we shall call her Clare until her name has returned.” Annabelle looked up to the audience, “We have
more important matters to attend.”
Raphael stood up from his chair, fair almost paled skinned, lithe, with long black hair barely touching
his shoulders, and chiselled sharp features. If it weren’t for those calculated yellow eyes that chilled her
bones by the sheer hatred in them, she would have thought him a striking beauty of a man. His voice
scratched the air, “Why did you call upon us half-blood?”
Annabelle’s head spun in his direction, her voice grave, “Do not downgrade her Raphael, you are still in
Khiron, you would respect our young, name or not.”
He ignored Annabelle, his eyes focused on Clare, who wore a scowl of her own, when he practically
spat the words out, “I see your acquaintance with my uncle grows stronger every passing second.”
His eyes shot to Kalbreal, “Isn’t that so Kalbreal?”
Kalbreal reputed his remark, with a shrug, and shouted, “Since when do you question me.”
Raphael turned his attention completely on Clare again, she resisted the urge to swear to him, and shut
him up, “I know why you are here, girl.” He clapped his hand, as a cruel smile painted his face, “I refuse
any help on my side towards your suicidal mission.”
The voice from the back spoke, Clare turned to see it was Kalbreal, “Don’t worry about him, I’ll follow
you, it’s not like an Asguardian can yield a Harpien blade.”
Raphael looked furious, “Your sudden affections for the little watcher devour your judgment Kalbreal.”
Kalbreal argued, “You know the boy is good Raphael.” His voice deepened and intensified, “Your father
would be ashamed.”
“Ashamed?” He asked, with a mocking dispute, “For how long? you are a newer Angel on this planet, I
have roamed dimensions as an Asguardian for Thousands of years, Azazy-el shaped the chaos of the
world, any descendant of his will bring to the earth's destruction. I do like the boy, and will forever
mourn his death but this is best left as it is, maybe if you haven’t saved his sister...”
Kalbreal shouted, Clare, could swear she felt a slight vibration in the air, when his voice drifted down,
“Facts are not proven by rumours Raphael, Asguardians have always hated the Lightwatchers, seen
them as a threat.”
Kalbreal taunted him, “I won’t be surprised if you are behind these killings, attempting to steal their
souls, use their gifts, the same ones you have spent aeons trying to earn, but they are born with. It
must be hard that your superiority only extends to Asguard.”
Clare looked at Raphael, the bitterness in his eyes and face so unhidden, she yelled, “What do you
mean when you said saved his sister?”
Raphael hissed in satisfaction, “Little Clare doesn’t know.”
His quivering eyes met Clare’s, his voice soft and husky, “Oh yes, Kalbreal defied death and saved
your precious life after Kadreal put an order out for your death.” He paused, facing the audience of
people, who were so quiet, so still.
They were as shocked as she by this news. She didn’t have to see the faces that made up the crowd,
because she could feel it in the air, as it skilfully sucked the oxygen right out of her lungs.
“Clare’s death was destiny,” He spoke to the audience, “But Kalbreal just couldn’t let that happen, could
you uncle.”
Clare looked at Kalbreal, unfettered tears poured down her face as she mouthed his name, without a
sound.
Raphael wasn’t done confessing the Angel’s sins for all those to hear. She wanted to stop him, to tell
him it was wrong, it was so horrible, her heart-ached, but she couldn’t move, she barely remembered to
draw air into her lungs, frozen in one spot.
“When an Angel saves a life they leave cracks, the fallen can get through them, if you want to blame
someone for the deaths of your people, blame Kalbreal.” He paused, “He just had to intervene all those
years ago; he knows that whoever it is killing you, wants the girl.”
Raphael raised his hands, his index fingers pointed toward the ceiling, “How many sins did you commit
Uncle to save one ten-year-old girl? And how much more death will befall the realms and your own
family before you see truth? The girl must die it is the only way, she might be female, Kalbreal, but the
outcome is the same, she must die, you know it and I know it. The Irin will come for her, there are even
a few Tempters who see that, you know HE would come for her, I’m surprised she is still alive.”
Kalbreal stood at the back, his voice a catatonic boom in the hall, as the ground shook, he growled,
“ENOUGH,” His voice echoed through the court, vibrating in Clare’s ears. People got scared, some
even held on to their swords and guns, getting ready for a physical onslaught.
Raphael pushed on, not at all deterred by Kalbreal’s fury, which was weird, and made Clare wary, as to
why Raphael pushed the issue of her dying.
She felt scared as involuntary hopelessness curdled inside her. If what Raphael was saying is true,
then the angels would come for her, she didn’t know why, with no memory, no one who would give her
answers. Who would protect her, she presumed her brother would want to, but how would her brother
save her from Angels and Tempters, when he was only half of one. She was as good as dead, because
it was impossible, and she didn’t need to be one of them to figure that out.
William flashed in her mind, and just the thought of the faceless Caster grounded her, especially when
Raphael focused his intention on her, “Why do you think Kalbreal is here all these years? Have you
wondered why Clare? He was exiled; he had no right to save you.”
Raphael’s words poured out like acid burning her ears with the deception laced in his voice, planting
doubt in the descendants head, goading Kalbreal, aiming for a fight, but why.
What was it that this Asguardian was trying to prove, he spoke on but she blocked him out of her mind,
as she slyly slanted her gaze to where Kalbreal stood, and the breath she held, left her in complete
relief.
Kalbreal was shockingly calm, which meant he foresaw exactly what Raphael was aiming to do, she
caught the last part of what Raphael was saying, “…Gabriel favoured Kalbreal, still a full Angel plus all
the perks that earth has to offer, taking up residents with Tempters’ children, you are not even
mentioned in scriptures uncle, must be really low on the mark.”
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