The night bled crimson over the spires of Valenor.
A storm prowled across the heavens, splitting the air with lightning that tore through the clouds like divine wrath. The bells of the Holy Cathedral rang in warning — not for the faithful, but for the condemned.
And tonight, Aurelia D'Arvenne was the condemned.
The mud-slicked courtyard behind the cathedral reeked of incense and blood. Shackles bit into her wrists as she stumbled against the cold stone. A sigil burned faintly across her skin — the mark of a heretic, branded by the Church she had once served.
Her hands, once used to heal, now trembled with rage.
She had been the youngest priestess of the Dawn Order, chosen for her purity, praised for her faith. Until the night she uncovered the truth — that the Holy Church was no holy thing at all. That the Archdeacon himself had traded souls to demons in the shadows of the sanctum.
They silenced her with fire.
They took everything.
Her family was gone. Her temple burned. Her name blackened.
And now, as the executioner's footsteps echoed down the corridor, Aurelia whispered the ancient words she was never meant to know.
> "When the heavens turn their face, may the abyss answer instead."
Blood dripped from her fingertips into the sigil carved in the stone beneath her. The air trembled.
The candles flickered.
The world held its breath.
From the space between lightning and shadow, something answered.
A fissure tore through the air, bleeding light darker than night itself. Wings unfurled from the rift — massive, blackened, and radiant at the edges like burning gold. The scent of ozone and smoke filled the chamber.
Aurelia staggered back as the figure stepped through the portal — tall, unnaturally still, his eyes molten silver beneath hair as pale as frost.
He wasn't human.
He wasn't supposed to exist.
He was… beautiful. And terrible.
> "Who summons me beneath Heaven's silence?" His voice rolled like thunder smothered in silk.
Her breath caught. The wards carved into her wrists flared, reacting to his presence.
> "I do," she said, her voice shaking. "Aurelia D'Arvenne. I summon you by name of the forgotten tongue—"
> "You dare speak that language."
He moved faster than sight. One moment he was across the circle; the next, his hand was at her throat — not crushing, but testing. The heat of his skin burned like divine flame.
> "You reek of Heaven's light," he murmured, head tilting slightly. "And yet, you call the Fallen."
> "Heaven betrayed me first."
That stopped him.
For the briefest moment, a flicker — not pity, not mercy, but something dangerously close to understanding — crossed his face.
He released her. Slowly.
> "You wish for power, mortal?"
> "I wish for vengeance."
Lightning split the sky again, illuminating the sigil beneath them. Her blood glowed in the grooves of the circle, connecting her life to his. The storm outside screamed as the contract took shape — a bond between sinner and exiled divinity.
> "Then know the cost," he said. "The power you seek is not given freely. You must give me—"
> "My soul?"
> "Your faith."
The word echoed through her bones.
> "You will believe in me, and me alone. You will renounce the Light that cast me down. You will become my vessel in this world. In return, I will grant your vengeance."
She hesitated only a heartbeat. Then she nodded.
> "So be it."
The mark on her wrist flared like molten gold. He stepped closer, pressing his palm over hers, sealing the bond. The sigil beneath them ignited, a spiral of runes and fire spinning upward like wings unfurled.
The pain was immediate and all-consuming — light bursting beneath her skin, holy and profane all at once. She gasped as it seared her chest, etching a symbol just above her heart — a half-broken halo encircled by flame.
> "It's done," he whispered, his voice low against her ear.
The storm died. The world fell silent.
Aurelia collapsed to her knees, panting. When she looked up, the fallen angel was watching her with unreadable eyes.
> "Who are you?" she asked, voice raw.
> "Kael," he said simply. "Once of the Dawn Host. Now, of no heaven."
The name echoed in her mind. The Archangel Kael — the first of the Morning Choir, cast down for defying the Creator's decree. The story the Church forbade them to speak.
> "You're real," she whispered.
> "More real than your saints."
He extended his hand, and reluctantly, she took it. The moment their skin touched, warmth surged through her veins — not holy, but fierce, alive.
And then, in the faintest voice, almost too soft to hear, he said:
> "You remind me of her."
She frowned. "Who?"
> "No one." His wings shuddered once, fading into his back. "The night grows thin. Heaven's eyes are still open. We must move."
Aurelia looked toward the shattered door. Outside, torchlight flickered — soldiers searching the ruins.
> "Where will we go?"
Kael turned his face toward the storm, eyes catching the light of lightning.
> "To the edge of the world," he said. "Where Heaven's reach ends — and your revenge begins."
---
They fled through the burning streets of Valenor, shadows and whispers following them. The air stank of iron and betrayal. Kael moved like a phantom — silent, effortless, his presence bending the world around him.
Aurelia stumbled, unused to the speed. His arm caught her before she fell, firm and strangely gentle.
> "You're mortal," he said, half to himself. "Fragile things."
> "And yet I summoned you."
A slow smile curved his lips — dangerous, mocking, almost proud.
> "Indeed."
As they crossed the bridge toward the outer wall, bells rang again — the alarm.
Aurelia turned back. The Cathedral spire glowed with holy fire; priests chanted in panic. Above them, streaks of golden light cut through the clouds — Seraphic Wardens, sent to cleanse the taint of forbidden summoning.
> "They're coming," she breathed.
Kael's wings erupted again in a burst of black-gold fire.
> "Then let them come."
He lifted her effortlessly, the world dropping away beneath them as they rose into the storm. Rain lashed their faces, lightning dancing between his wings. The city of her birth shrank to embers below.
For the first time since her fall, Aurelia felt something she hadn't in years — freedom.
---
Hours later, they landed on a cliff overlooking the Veil Sea — an expanse of silver mist where the dead were said to drift. Kael stood at the edge, his gaze distant.
> "The contract is sealed," he said. "But its bond is not yet complete."
> "What does that mean?"
> "Your faith, Aurelia. It must replace the Light you lost. You must feed it — with conviction, with intent, with the fire of your will. Or the bond will consume you."
She met his gaze. "And if I fail?"
> "Then your soul will break… and mine will follow."
The wind howled between them.
And though she didn't yet understand, Aurelia felt the strange pull between their souls — a thread, invisible but unyielding, binding them together.
---
> "Rest," Kael said softly, turning away. "Tomorrow, we begin."
> "Begin what?"
> "Your vengeance."
---
But as Aurelia closed her eyes that night beneath a sky of bleeding stars, she didn't dream of vengeance. She dreamed of wings — shattered, burning, beautiful — and the sound of a voice whispering her name like a prayer.