Legend of Immortal: Angeloids and Eviloids

Capítulo Cuatro

THIRD PERSON's POV:

In the heart of the celestial realm, the king angeloid, with his countenance as regal as the cosmos itself, summoned his sole heir, a young prince of unmatched beauty. The prince, graceful as a falling star, entered the grand chamber and bowed in deference to his royal father, whose presence was as imposing as the night sky.

"Did you summon me, Father?" the prince inquired, his voice a melodious harmony that resonated through the chamber's opulent walls.

The king's eyes, as deep and luminous as the heavens, bore into his son's. "Yes, my dear son. I have called upon you to inquire if you have discovered any tidings concerning the whereabouts of Kenji's offspring."

The prince, an epitome of grace, sighed lightly. "Alas, Father, my investigations have borne little fruit. The witnesses to the disappearance of Kenji's child often emerge from the depths of the shadowed temple, making it an arduous task to unveil our elusive quarry. However, fret not, for Shamara may yet lend her ethereal hand in our quest."

The king, his silver wings exuding an aura of authority, nodded solemnly. "Very well, my son. If you uncover any leads, I beseech you to promptly inform me." With those words, the prince rose from his respectful bow and took his leave, his regal bearing unwavering.

Yvaine Claire's POV:

I awoke to the radiance of a new day, feeling an inner glow that matched the brilliance of the celestial realm. Accompanied by my three celestial companions, we embarked on a journey that rivaled the grace of the constellations themselves. However, it was Breathlease who radiated an ethereal luminance that seemed to transcend the comprehension of mere mortals.

Our destination was the legendary Angeloid school, a realm of knowledge hitherto unknown to me. As the majestic spires of the school came into view, I found myself momentarily spellbound. The school, an embodiment of divine architecture, rivaled the grandeur of the most opulent of palaces. Angeloid students, some gracefully suspended in mid-air, dotted the landscape, their celestial forms a testament to their ethereal origins.

Uniformed in attire befitting their celestial stature, the students displayed an enchanting blend of sapphire-blue skirts for the girls, adorned with pristine white blouses and matching azure neckties. The boys, equally resplendent, wore cobalt long-sleeved shirts, paired with white undershirts and jet-black socks, all elegantly complemented by blue neckties.

Before we stood at the entrance, an ornate gate of shimmering silver, swung open as we approached, drawing the attention of every celestial being nearby. I couldn't help but revel in my beauty, exuding a confidence that shone as brightly as the stars.

Mwahahaha!

A whistle echoed through the air, though it remained a mystery to whom it was directed.

"By the way, we're classmates," Amala chimed in, breaking the enchanting spell that my presence had cast upon us.

I acknowledged this information with grace.

However, I couldn't help but notice that Breathlease was drawing the attention of both celestial men and women with her effortless allure. Her audacity was unparalleled, even in this realm.

Curiosity piqued, I inquired, "What section are we assigned to?"

Gahlia answered, revealing the mystery behind the section names. "We're in Section A, BRAVARE, the most renowned section here. Section B is SAPERE, and Section C is VIRTUS."

The unfamiliar names intrigued me as we continued our celestial pilgrimage toward our designated section.

Adorned with glistening sculptures made of gold, silver, and other celestial materials, the school left me in a constant state of wonder.

As we approached the entrance, I realized the door was not where I expected. It resided on the uppermost floor, like a towering beacon.

The entrance faced the Bravare section but was set a considerable distance from the gate. To the right, one could find the entrance to Sapere, and to the left, the entrance to Virtus.

My three celestial companions unfurled their radiant wings, but I remained grounded, prompting Breathlease to jest, "Why don't you have wings?"

With a smile, I responded, and in the blink of an eye, I stood at the entrance to the Bravare section. My friends, their mouths agape in astonishment, could hardly believe their eyes.

It was then that a soft whisper near my ear made my heart skip a beat. Turning, I found myself face to face with Seth, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

"Good morning?" Seth greeted with a hint of ambiguity in his voice.

My three companions had caught up by now. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" Seth inquired, the mischievous glint still in his eyes.

Rolling my eyes, I responded, "Allow me to introduce my friends, or should I say, my roommates."

"Hi!" Breathlease chimed in, attempting to look as charming as ever.

"Nice to meet you, Seth!" the siblings greeted together.

Seth's grin quickly faded, and to my surprise, he departed without a word.

Yvaine Claire's POV:

Confusion and curiosity swirled within me as I questioned my three companions about the sudden change in Seth's demeanor.

"What happened to him?" I inquired, my voice tinged with a hint of concern.

Amala, ever the perceptive one, offered a tentative explanation, "Maybe he's sulking?"

Sulking? The notion seemed absurd. Seth and I were not in any official romantic relationship that would warrant him sulking. The mere idea made me cringe. He could sulk all he wanted; it was inconsequential. If anything, it only added to the mounting headache of the day.

Breathlease, exuding an air of confidence, brushed aside the puzzlement and declared, "Okay, let's go!"

I followed her lead, not entirely sure whom she had addressed with her statement. My thoughts remained fixated on Seth's uncharacteristic reaction.

"Let's go!" I called to the others, who dutifully followed Breathlease's lead.

As we reached the classroom, we all rose to our feet upon the arrival of our first-class teacher—a bespectacled man whose aura suggested vast knowledge and wisdom.

"Good morning, students," he greeted us with a warm and welcoming smile, his presence radiating an air of intellectual authority.

"Good morning, sir!" We responded in unison, our voices harmonizing in a chorus of politeness.

He gestured for us to take our seats, and we complied, the atmosphere charged with anticipation.

"By the way, I'm Mr. Jom, your history teacher," he introduced himself, his tone inviting camaraderie. "I hope we can be friends. To kickstart our class, please follow me."

Rising in unison once again, we obediently trailed behind Mr. Jom as he led us through an unknown path.

In an instant, Sir Jom's hand emitted a brilliant green light, revealing a doorway before us. With graceful movements, he swung the door open, inviting us to enter.

Stepping into the threshold, we found ourselves engulfed by utter darkness. I could barely make out the forms of my companions, shrouded in obscurity. Panic gripped my chest momentarily.

Then, like a distant star in the night, I noticed a flicker of flames. It emanated from Amala's palm, illuminating her surroundings. Relief washed over me as I saw her presence in the inky blackness.

Yet, there was something else—a sensation that sent shivers down my spine. A hand, large and strangely warm, enveloped my own. It was not a woman's hand; the size alone suggested a man's touch. But in the pitch-black void, I could not discern the identity of the person who held my hand. It was an enigma, a paradox—unseen, yet oddly comforting.

As we continued our journey toward the door, the hand released its gentle grasp. The darkness persisted, and I couldn't help but wonder about the mysterious presence that had momentarily tethered me to an unspoken connection.

Finally, as we exited, the breathtaking sight that greeted us was nothing short of spectacular—an expansive collection of towering bookshelves stretching endlessly into the distance. My companions appeared unfazed by the grandeur, having grown accustomed to the ethereal surroundings. I, on the other hand, was rendered speechless, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of it all.

Sir Jom directed us to take our seats in the colossal chairs provided, each seemingly crafted for celestial beings. It was then that I realized something peculiar—we were only eight in the Bravare section. Questions swirled in my mind—why were there so few of us? What was the significance of this number?

Sir Jom distributed thick tomes to each of us, and as I flipped open the pages, my eyes fell upon the title inscribed on the cover: "Le Legende Betwene Le Angelos unti Diabolos."

The title alone intrigued me, promising a tale of great significance. With eager anticipation, I began to read. However, as I delved into the text, my excitement was quickly met with confusion. The book was a perplexing amalgamation of languages, a linguistic labyrinth that defied comprehension.

Frustration welled within me as I struggled to decipher the cryptic words on the page. I couldn't bear the idea of missing out on what appeared to be an enthralling narrative.

"I think you'll find it challenging to grasp the content here," Sir Jom finally spoke, as if realizing our predicament only now.

It was maddening. I could only nod in acknowledgment, my disappointment palpable. Amala's concerned gaze met mine, and I managed a subtle nod, reassuring her that I was indeed okay, despite the overwhelming emotions swirling within.

Sir Jom's voice reverberated through the classroom, a commanding presence that demanded our attention. With a confident nod, he took charge, choosing to be the reader to ensure our comprehension.

As his words flowed like a lyrical incantation, there was a curious magic to the way he spoke. Each utterance was accompanied by a billowing green smoke that seemed to dance around his lips. It was as though he conjured ethereal shapes from thin air, each one a visual representation of his words, aiding us in grasping the tale he shared.

"The ruling power in our realms is divided into two factions: the Angeloids and the Eviloids," Sir Jom began, his words punctuated by the mesmerizing green smoke that sculpted the story's essence before our eyes.

As he wove his narrative, the ethereal smoke transformed into the figure of a woman. Her presence was nothing short of captivating, wrapped in a mysterious hooded robe that added an air of enigma to her beauty.

But then, Sir Jom dropped a bombshell. He spoke of an agreement between the two factions—a pact that forbade romantic entanglements between beings from different realms. According to the Oracle Shamara, such unions would spell the end of both lineages.

The green smoke manifested the form of a woman again, her identity unquestionably Oracle Shamara. She stood regal, her eyes glittering like embers, her visage radiant in the dancing green glow.

It was a revelation that defied comprehension. How could relationships between beings from different realms lead to the extinction of both lineages? The idea was as perplexing as it was unsettling. Relationships between different beings were common, and they rarely led to the end of entire bloodlines. The only exception was humanity, where death was an inevitable part of existence.

I couldn't contain my curiosity and voiced my perplexity, "I can't help but wonder how romantic relationships between beings from different realms could end both bloodlines. What's the connection?"

Suddenly, all eyes in the classroom were fixed on me, as if anticipating profound wisdom to emerge from my lips. Seth, in particular, bore a gaze that seemed to echo the very question he wanted to ask.

His audacity to act as though he were the one inquiring grated on me. I pressed on, determined to seek an answer.

"Well, I just had this thought in my head about how the bloodlines could end if beings from different realms were in a romantic relationship. What's the connection?" I reiterated, direct and unyielding.

I braced myself for Sir Jom's response, unsure of how he would react to my inquiry.

He let out a contemplative sigh before confessing, "I don't have the answers to your questions either. But you know what? You're the first one to ask about this matter. Perhaps only Shamara herself can provide the answers you seek."

So, Shamara was the enigmatic woman who had assumed a feminine form earlier through her powers.

Sir Jom's attention shifted abruptly to a massive hourglass on his desk, its sands running relentlessly.

"Time's up! Our discussion is over," he declared abruptly.

The swiftness of his proclamation left me in a state of bewildered frustration. I believed there was so much more to uncover and understand. It was maddening.

I rose from my seat, a disgruntled expression evident on my face, and flicked my short skirt, irritated by its brevity.

With determination, I pushed my way out of the classroom. I knew I had to traverse the dimly lit hallway before returning to our classroom.

Despite the foreboding darkness, I pressed forward, determined to reach my destination.

Then, as I walked through the corridor, an eerie chill enveloped me, causing the hairs on my neck to stand on end. It was a cold that penetrated to the bone.

Suddenly, a burst of flames ignited before me, taking on the form of a woman, her presence ominous yet intriguing. Flames partially shrouded her figure, veiling her identity in an ethereal dance of fire and shadows.

"Who are you?" I asked with a seriousness that reflected my perplexity.

"You need to be careful here," she warned cryptically, her words ringing with an air of foreboding.

Her small horn indicated her affiliation with another faction.

"Wait, who are you?" I inquired, furrowing my brows as I sought clarity.

"You'll find out one day," she replied with an enigmatic smile before vanishing once more, leaving me with more questions than answers.

"Claire!" I was jolted from my contemplation by Gahlia's voice. She had been following me, and we were no longer alone. Our classmates had joined us.

They rushed toward me, each assuming their Angeloid forms, their auras now radiating brilliantly.

As I glanced ahead, the woman engulfed in flames reappeared briefly before vanishing again.

When they reached me, they bombarded me with questions. "Are you okay, Claire?" Amala asked with genuine concern.

"Do you know that woman?" Zyche, our usually serious classmate, inquired with an intensity that matched his perpetual seriousness.

"I'm fine," I reassured them, although growing dizziness gnawed at the edges of my consciousness. The last thing I heard before succumbing to unconsciousness was their frantic calls for me.