Chapter 15—Shade

From his office window in Sector One, Priest-King Otto Ludvig Klein V could see why they called this the throne room. To him, it was no more than an office, until night fell over Castle Cerulean and he could see his kingdom come alive. From Sector Four to Sector One, he watched his people welcome the shade of midnight like they had truly seen the setting sun. Lights flicked on in sequence toward him, counting the sectors up. In Four he could see the sparse buildings darken, a sign that people were on their way to mass. The people of Four had yet to accept their rejection, and he respected their devotion, despite no signs that things would change. In Sector Three, he could see the people returning home. After long days dedicated to their duties, they would sit down for dinner, and know that all was well. He could feel their prayers already, likely spurred by his daughter's success. It wasn't that he ever had a doubt, but he applauded how well she had done. In Sector Two he saw something strange. His eyes began to glow.

“Are any of you in Two?" His mind reached out to his children.

“I am.” Said Brigid.

“Me too.” Came Elias.

“Are either of you flying around?”

“No. I’m still in the middle of an interrogation.” Brigid replied.

“Still!" Christoph barked. "I keep telling you Bridge, just rip their souls out and check them for yourself."

“I’m not going to do that. God can save all of us, they just need to believe in him. If I show them, they’ll tell me willingly.”

Celine chuckled. “Both of you are about absolute control, you’re just different flavors of it.”

“It’s not control if they’re dead.” Christoph scoffed.

“It’s not control, it’s salvation. I want them to go back to their lives, I just want it to be better.”

“And it just so happens that they are terrified of god afterwards.”

“Are you three bickering? Is dad going to allow this?” Otto could hear Elias’s smirk.

“It is a healthy conversation. I believe in Brigid's conviction. She truly wants to do good. Celine is at odds because their ideas of Good don't entirely align. I am curious, how would you solve this situation, Celine?"

“They were soldiers right? I’d toss them out. They get to choose if that ever happens.”

“Them dying out there just happens to be an accident, right?”

"If they were smart soldiers they'd know they don't have infinite power. They're no different than the Baleful."

Otto watched the strange thing in Sector Two again. “Brigid, Elias, did you move?”

“No sir.” The two answered back.

"Which of you is closest to the military grounds, there is an angel in flight down there. They're moving…" His eyes went off to the right; the Angel flew westward. As Otto stared off, divine touch followed the light. There was nothing to be found over there, not even another life. "They're moving west, I want someone to investigate."

“I’ll do it.” Elias answered. “I just finished up anyway. I wanted to speak to the new recruits and I’m done.”

“Very good. The rest of you may return to your previous tasks.”

Behind Otto, his office door came open. His eyes stopped glowing as he turned around, finding Valerie and Francis entering the room. The fact she hadn't spoken to him first made him somewhat concerned. He could have connected the doorways, but it seemed she preferred to fly. Regardless, he raised his hand and gestured to Francis.

“I have prepared this console for the soldiers we’ll be sacrificing. I expect you to man it, Francis.”

“Of course sire, but there’s a matter I’d like to speak about first.”

“The matter is for my vision, Otto. After speaking to Francis, I think you’ll want to hear it.”

"What are the concerns?"

“One of potential destruction, sire. The force that destroyed my last home may be on its way to this one.”

Otto remembered the sight of that building in a report. He crossed his arms behind his back. "What is this matter that is so dire you flew here?"

“It is a counter measure, sir. As previously said, the new machine can make sacrifices pure. I want to use it to prepare you for the battle.”

“Why me instead of Christoph? It is his duty to fight for Cerulean."

“Because sir, I thought of a way that will further your ascension.”

That was the final step in the Klein family’s plan; the very reason for his name. Remaining level despite hearing those words told Otto something about himself. He was already ascended; this would merely be a crowning ceremony. Still, he ushered Francis on.

"Continue your thought, you have my ear."

“We spent a bit of time talking about this.” Valerie rose to stand beside her husband. “Francis thinks I may have mistaken my vision for an omen. He thinks that this is actually a sign.”

“Considering what the Crimson Prophet is, this seems like a message. He is a demon with a false god’s light. His arrival in to the castle would threaten its harmony. I believe God wants you to bear true Light to slay him.”

“I agree with Francis’s assessment. In the vision you weren’t present, but we stood in your office. I think it is a sign that of the three pillars, the Crimson Prophet is a job for you. Only the person with the most control of God's power can slay this demon."

“And thus you did not use a portal so that too much of his power isn’t flowing into the room.”

“Yes, dear. Keeping the environment sterile, as much as possible anyway."

“Why not communicate the plan telepathically?”

“That is by my wish, sire. I don’t know the full breadth of the Rejects nature. The entire plan can backfire if the sacrifices aren’t pure.”

“You want to sacrifice the Rejects?"

“Not primarily, no, but this plan will result in their deaths, I’m afraid.”

“What is your plan, Francis?”

“I want to send batteries to Sector Four and use the machine to transform them in front of the Rejects. There are about 7,000 of them who still worship god, though they're broken into different sects. Still, the Rejects will come to think they're forgiven, and worship exactly what they see."

“What would be the point of this?”

“Think of Four as a corrupted version of One.”

“They’ll create prey for God.”

“Yes. But since Rejects don't sense God's light properly, instead of being worth one the prey will be worth every pair of eyes upon it. For a church of one-twenty, you’ll get prey worth 120 times as much.”

“It’ll be pure as well, so God won’t grow vile.” The entire purpose of Sector One was creating food like that. On any given day, they might at most produce 20 meals. Otto trusted Francis’s plan, but he could hardly believe such a thing was possible. It certainly hadn’t been in all of his family’s years. God truly blessed Cerulean when he brought Francis to it, and Otto could see the height of that blessing now.

“Why will this sacrifice the Rejects?”

“Because sire, we can only do this once. Unlike the blue bloods, who know they work to strengthen God, the Rejects will mistake the thing in front of them for him. We'll be taking their god away, and that will make them Vengeful.”

“You don’t simply mean make them angry.”

"No sir, they will be like the Baleful, and that will make them extremely dangerous. First, they'll attack the Rejects who don’t worship god, and when that gets them nothing back, they will turn their eyes on Sector Three and above”

“What is the population of Sector Four?”

“Eleven-thousand, sire.”

“Valerie, start a sermon. Have them pray for the protection of Sector Three.”

“So we shall continue sire?”

“Yes. Neither the Vengeful nor the Crimson Prophet shall be a threat to us.”

⁘⁛⁘

The club was alive with life as Peter stepped inside. Bodies shook, jumped, and bobbed their heads to the swell of chaotic music. He was invisible to the crowd, despite standing there with his bloodied chain sword. The people couldn’t see him over their celebration, even though he wasn't one of the hundreds of blue monstrosities. They all danced with blind glee—horrendous bodies covered in errant eyes. How none of them saw him yet was surprising, and he might have felt bad for them if it wasn’t for what his sister said. These monstrosities weren’t worthy of God’s might? If all of them got her message, why the hell were they celebrating?

"Party harder people!" A voice boomed over the music. "The bitch was wrong about us! We are what God wants us to be! We'll show her, and those treacherous blue bloods what we're about!"

That explained it. Peter understood what his sister meant. These things were never going to be worthy. Even faced with a reality that told them they weren’t, they refused to see things any other way. He revved his sword, these types of people had to go. A wave of blood followed him as he shot to the stage, catching the speaker in the mouth. As he tore through he grabbed the soul, crushing it as the dancing stopped. One person roared and the rest followed, flocking into the air, diving for the stage. Peter revved his sword as he rose to meet them, blinding the followers with the blood of those leading the charge. Monsters stopped to wipe their eyes, and he shredded the next line. He watched hesitation bloom, going where it blossomed first. Indignation ran through them next, pushing groups to take him down. Machetes became shrapnel in their faces as they hacked—Peter blocking any that got close. He zipped through the lines, raining down pieces of everyone in his path. The light of him left a storm in his wake.

Below, someone gorged on the unclaimed souls. Arms exploded from his back to grab others, and Peter swooped down. They flung their body away. As Peter pursued they swung down, bringing a column of light. It shook the room as it came down on him. The man bent back with laughter. Suddenly, the column wavered. It unraveled, spinning into chains slicing around the room. They wrapped around the scattered souls, reeling them back to Peter’s raised hand. The survivors hovered, stunned. His attacker flung itself in the air and he held his free hand out. Chains fired catching the man's arms, dragging him across the whirling blade.

Less than half of them remained.

Peter turned to his next victim, whipping his chains out. He snatched a man from the air, feeling his scream through the chain. His sword swung despite it and stopped hard against an outstretched palm.

It belong to a glowing blue body, slender and statuesque as it stood between them. Spinning blades cut around it, snapping the chain. They cut for him next. His wings wrapped around his body and held firm, waiting for the assault to end. It did when applause echoed down. Peter peeked up to the manager’s suite where a young man stood in a broken window. He dressed like a student with a navy blazer matching a pair of pants. A white button-up lay beneath it, but three unfastened buttons lent themselves to the thought. He looked like he was fresh out of a long day of classes, sneaking into a place he should have never been.

“Not bad!” The man called down. “I’ve been watching for a bit, and you’re kind of insane. Heck, the fact you sneaked down to Two and found this place is pretty nice. You can get away with this slaughter and my dad will never find out.”

The surviving Angels went still as he said that. If they had any doubts before, they were gone now. This boy was Elias Klein, the youngest of the royal children and a person even Peter knew. He never met him face to face or spotted him from a distance, but there was a presence that was hard to mistake. What did Peter know about Elias? He couldn't think of much. Eighteen; rumored to spend his time with new students; has a grand plan for Castle Cerulean's future...Elias was no more of an enigma than his siblings, but it still gave Peter chills. Was this man a threat? Did he send the thing holding back the sword?

“I’m not from Sector One.” Peter replied.

Elias’s face scrunched up. “You’re joking right? You clearly are. The way you’re connected with God’s light proves you’re not from Sector Two.”

“You’re right, I’m not from Two, I’m from Three.”

Elias's eyes lit up. "No way! Really?" Peter nodded. "Wow, this is great. You're around my age too, I think! This is a good sign!" He beamed, but it faded as he slowly scanned the room. "I mean, it could have been. I'm interested in you. I want to ask you to lunch, but I can't." He sighed.

“Are you here to help these soldiers?”

Elias guffawed. “Help them?" He ran a hand through pale blond hair. "Can I share a story with you?"

Peter nodded. So long as they were talking he didn’t have to act rash. It was better to figure Elias out than immediately attack, especially considering how close he was to god.

“I used to love seeing Wing Grants when I was small. I thought it was the greatest to see people chosen by God and elevated to a higher position. What was even better, though, was seeing the ones who got to stand beside my brother and sisters. I was always so jealous. Christoph has his four. Celine has her trusted two. And Brigid got really lucky, hers was the boy she spent the most time with. I wanted a chance to have someone like that. I wanted a beautiful angel to stand beside me. Year after year I watched the Wing Grants, hoping I’d get the chance, but about six years ago, most of them became monsters like…” He gestured to the room. “I asked Francis what changed, and he said the Halos accelerate the growth to Angel, but that didn't mean they were ready. I asked my mom how someone knows they're ready and she said they must see themselves properly; see themselves the way God sees them. Say, what's your name?"

“Peter.”

"Do you get what I mean by the way God sees them?" Peter shook his head. "I'll keep it short, but there are six ways we interact with God's Light, the jobs you guys have in Three help you get better at it. Forging. Bestowing. Bending. Adorning. Guiding. And Illuminating. I'm best at Sculpting, but not too bad at Forging. The thing in front of you is something I made!"

Peter scanned the statuesque figure. It looked like it was carved from stone. Its strength was intense too. Peter tried to lower his sword but it held it between index and thumb.

“It's called Refraction. The ones you're good at depend on how God sees you. He knows you're not perfect, but he knows you have your strengths. These ugly angels don't trust God. When they wield his light they become these ugly things with all those eyes turned outward, rather than inward. They want to be a different kind of angel than what they're meant to be, so they turn into this!"

“Is that the end?”

Elias smiled. “Yeah! Sorry for venting. It’s just that you said I want to help them, but since I learned all of that, the only thing I wanted to do was kill them.”

“We know what you're doing! We know you people in Sector One are lying!" A voice roared and rabble joined in. Elias gave them a sidelong look. "Thank you, Peter!" He turned a grin back.

“For what?”

The blades that broke his chains swept around the room, passing through bodies as if they were pouring water. The angels didn’t get the chance to react. One moment they sat still in the air; the next they were sliced and slashed, raining blood across the dance floor. Peter's stared, taken aback. As the blades stopped they settled into wings on the sculpture’s back. Elias let out a sigh of relief, slowly lowering himself to meet Peter’s eyes.

“For giving me this chance. Maybe you're the villain here but at least I can get rid of some of them. It feels like things will get bad if the wrong type of people can use God's light. People need their privacy, but I'm asking myself, why were all of them in a place my dad can't find?" Elias sized Peter up. "Can I be honest with you?"

“I feel like you have been already.”

“I meant it when I said I was interested. I already like you a lot and feel like we could get along, but I'm suspicious too. Why is there a guy in Three who has the talent of a guy from One? If Christoph or Brigid were here, they'd take you in, but I don't want to. I want to see what else you can do without One!"

Peter wondered, did this mean Elias would let him go? Even if they agreed, only one of them could say they were in the right. Peter didn't doubt himself or his sister, but he saw how this would go. The witch in Sector Four disappeared because she could strangely use God's light. She disappeared because her version of God's light was green. Fiona's light was blue, but she hid her abilities, rather than show them upfront. The two of them were probably the same. He couldn’t let himself get caught before finding out if that was true. That revealed the point of Elias’s honesty. He wanted Peter to survive and find the answers he needed. Peter’s eyes narrowed and the man smiled.

“You need a fighting chance. You probably can’t beat me right now, but if you put up a good enough fight I can say you got away.” Elias stroked his chin. “I’m going to show you something, Peter! You learn through Refraction that not everyone can wield God’s light. A part of it is still you, but when that part is ready, you can be more than an angel.” Cerulean light blossomed from his chest and swirled. The more it swirled the darker it became, stopping only as midnight ribbons poured off him. “You are not god, but a shade of him, you truly see the plan he has in store for you.” The ribbons curled around his body, fluttering open for his face. “You see why God loves you, and what he imagines you can be. You become it, and know you’re on the right path.” They wrapped around his face, at last, falling so cleanly Peter might have thought his body was glowing. The midnight light merged with his silhouette, putting in front of Peter a dark blue body. The statue came apart as its body became latticework cerulean armor upon Elias's flesh. The blade wings transferred to him, and he spread his arms as his transformation completed. "I am Elias, God's Midnight Artisan."

As if the air itself was a focus, Peter could feel the power of this form. The light within and out was one, growing from a seed of cerulean in his chest. It did not cover but change him, making a strange midnight man with a phosphorescent body. Still, he could see Elias's young features, excitedly watching him take it all in. They wanted to know if Peter could do the same, and with a swelling heart, he wondered if he could too. From what the royal son said and his sister taught, he wondered what his title would be. It made him nostalgic, but he didn’t know why. He did know how to do it though, or at least thought he had the right idea. Feeling the power bound around him, and his wounded hand, he pulled it to his soul and the blue seed within it. They came together like separate puzzle pieces and a chain whipped out from his hand.

"Do you know what God wants you to be, Peter?" Elias beamed. With the peace in Peter's heart, he knew the answer. He took hold of the chain, nodding.

"I finally get what my sister meant with all her lessons. My name is Peter, God's Azure Wrath." He yanked the chain, and when he let go it snaked back into his arm. From his hand he felt the power rush up, dying everything in its wake to match his title. The shape of him changed too, not from the broad shoulders and arms, but to a sleek metal frame powered by something mechanical beneath the surface. He felt like it could take a blade and yet it felt lighter than flesh. The transformation ended with a grate-like visor covering his eyes, and they turned to Elias with the chain sword raised.

The boy smiled. "I will allow nothing to interrupt me tonight! What can be better than this? Peter, promise me that you'll survive."

...