The Secrets of Heaven

Chapter 1Dante Dante wiped his face with a soft towel and tied his overgrown raven hair in a ponytail. He mostly caught the hair on the top of his head, leaving many shorter strands free from the lace. The edges of the mirror had scratches and heavy traces of rust, but his reflection never looked fresher. The mirror was a hand-me-down from work, like most of his possessions in this mountain cabin. Dante glanced sideways at where his lover slept peacefully in their bed. Raphael’s face was half-buried in the soft pillow as he lay on his side, while both his arms stretched over the empty side with a Dante-shaped imprint on the sheets. The morning was sunny and calm, no distant howl of the wind. This part of the mountain was treacherous with the weather and it often made the cabin walls creak. The cabin itself was small, with a single room, but it had everything a loving couple needed. A working wood stove kept them warm during the chilly nights. There was a large storage box under the dining table. And the double bed kept them safe and cozy. The walls were littered with coat hangers, holding all the clothes they possessed…which wasn’t many. It was a humble home, but it was a true home. Last week, Raphael and Dante marked five years since they started living here. Five years flew by like air. Dante carefully leaned over his sleeping lover and pecked his cheek. It was ridiculous how handsome he looked first thing in the morning. From the notorious bedhead, the disheveled half-buttoned sleeping shirt, and the morning stubble pricking Dante’s lips. Raphael opened his eyes and looked drowsily at him. “So cruel,” he mumbled. “What’s cruel?” Dante asked just as quietly. “You smiling like this upon leaving me.” Dante burst out laughing. “I’m going to work.” “Do you have to?” “It’s what poor people do on weekdays,” Dante said, and playfully petted Raphael’s hair. It had grown a bit since his last haircut, making it so easy to grab these blonde locks in a fist. “But how would you know? I spoiled you.” Raphael’s lazy expression skewered with a sly smirk. He hooked his finger in Dante’s belt and turned on his back, pulling him on top. “Spoil me more,” he whispered. Dante steadied himself on his arms and knees, smiling down at his gorgeous lover, bathed in the morning light, his blue eyes demanding attention. Impossible to resist. Dante eagerly kissed his lips, and Raphael wrapped his arms around him like two snakes greedily pulling him further into their nest. One hand pulled on Dante’s hair lace and let his hair scatter. Gentle fingers ran through the raven locks. The cozy warmth, the gentle breathing in his ear, and the unspoken plea for him to stay were making it increasingly difficult to go to work. “What are we having for dinner tonight?” Dante asked, hoping to distract himself. “Potato salad,” Raphael said. “I love your potato salad!” Being enemies of Heaven caused Raphael and Dante to live in isolation and sparingly visited civilization. Dante could afford to get a job, but Raphael was a recognizable public figure. So, he mostly stayed home. For someone who used to be surrounded by high society, Dante expected Raphael to struggle with this situation, but he thrived in solitude. Back in Elden Palace, his lover was very sociable, but that was an enforced behavior. If it were up to him, he would have spent all his free time in a library, or at some academic endeavor. That’s what Raphael mostly did at home, too. There were huge stacks of books under their bed. He read about plants, animals, and herbs that grew in these parts of the world. Often he ventured to gather wild fruit and berries. He taught himself cooking and fishing. He even made a tiny indoor herb garden. There were several pots on the windowsill growing spices he used in meals. Raphael Azelys was never bored. “It’s annoying you can’t get a job,” Dante said. “But I don’t hate having an old man waiting for me with dinner.” “Stop calling me old. I’m not old.” This year Raphael turned thirty and Dante found unexpected satisfaction in teasing him about it. “Yes, you are. You go to bed early, you can barely keep up with me on the trail…” “No one can keep up with you.” “And your hairline is receding.” Raphael grabbed the top of his head in horror. “That’s not true!” Dante burst out laughing and kissed his nose. “Don’t worry. You can be bald. I’ll be fat with the way you’re feeding me.” Dante scrambled out of bed and walked out of their cabin. He inhaled the fresh air of the early morning while casually putting his hair back into a ponytail. This part of the mountains was especially beautiful. There was a deep valley with a river at the bottom. Colossal rock pillars rose to the sky, with thick green vegetation at the top. Raphael and Dante chose one of these pillars to be the place they built their new home. It was a place that only birds could reach. Or a human with wings. It was the perfect protection from the guardians and anyone who wished them harm. Later, they built a bridge connecting the pillar to the closest mountain path, so Raphael could cross when he was alone. Dante walked over the rope bridge as it swayed under his feet. He could easily fly the distance to the mountain cliff, but he chose long ago to use his abilities only in emergencies. They never knew who could be watching. The view from this height, the wind, and the low quality of the wooden planks could make any intruder think twice before crossing. Spring was in full bloom, but the mountain air was still chilly, and snow still covered the path. Dante skidded on the slippery remains of winter while enjoying the sounds of awakening nature all the way to the village of Cava. Cava was half an hour downhill, and still three hours uphill from the closest stone road. About two hundred people lived here. There were no paved roads. Most houses were scattered amid the vast greenery. Many of the inhabitants had farms or worked the croplands not too far from here. There was a small Temple of Virtue, kept by a single angel follower. A small marketplace graced the center. It mostly sold food products, but there was always some interesting book or trinket that found its way to the stalls. Sometimes travelers would pass through this village and sell their curious items. Dante made a mental note to check the market for new books for Raphael. He wanted to find him more things to keep him busy at home. “Good morning, Isaac!” an old man shouted. This was the village newspaper salesman, who brought a stack of newspapers with him every week from the town at the foot of the mountain. “Good morning,” Dante said and immediately noticed the news on the first page. Newspapers rarely came to these parts, and when they did, they brought weeks-old news, but it was still the only way to know what was happening with the rest of the world. Dante picked one from the stack, and his brows furrowed with concern. There was a new assassination attempt on Queen Sienna for the second time in the last six months. This had made it six times since she ascended to the throne of Heaven. Many noble houses accepted her as the new ruler, but quite a few Azelys loyalists still supported Michael Azelys. He was in prison for his monstrous deeds, and still had people who followed him. Dante spent enough time in Elden Palace to know what a toxic environment it could be. Raphael also suffered quite a few attempts on his life. Dante had been the one to save him from a few bad ones. Mortal danger always came with being the ruler of Heaven. “Those rich bitches will kill each other,” the old man said with a satisfied smirk. He was an old angel who had always lived in poverty. He had no family and his happiest time was when he sat at a table full of food and drink. Not at all like the angels Dante was used to, so he could relate to him so much easier. “If only it were that easy,” Dante said, and paid for the newspaper. He headed for the orphanage. His daily chores started with greeting his colleagues, most of whom were angels. He helped with making breakfast and preparing the canteen, and after that, he walked out into the backyard to chop wood and fill the storage. By the time he was out, a wave of children’s laughter filled the corridors, as they all flocked into the canteen. Soon enough, they were all over the playground. It was always noisy here, and Dante wouldn’t have it any other way. Children needed the chance to be children. If only he could give this chance to the orphans who lost their lives back in the capital’s ghetto. Dante was just about ready with the firewood for the day when he heard someone squabbling. He looked at the playground and saw two ten-year-olds pushing each other and pulling on their shirts. There was already a group encircling them to watch the fight and cheer. Dante put down the ax and pushed through the circle of children. A few ran away, not wanting to get into trouble. Dante grabbed the two little troublemakers and pulled them apart. “What’s this all about?” he asked, more annoyed than anything else. “It’s his fault! He started it!” one boy yelled, still trying to punch and kick the other, and only ending up swinging his limbs in the air. “He pushed me out of the line and that’s against the rules!” The squabbling seemed to have started because a game had become a little rough. There was a ripped shirt, a split lip, and a swollen eye. How does a game cause this to a couple of ten-year-olds? “He only pushed me because he knows he can’t win otherwise!” the second boy said. “Yes, I can! Your mom knows it, too!” “I don’t have a mom and neither do you!” “You both suck at trash talk,” Dante said, and the surrounding boys laughed. “Here are your options. You can either play nice and have fun. Or you spend the rest of this sunny day grounded in bed. What would it be?” The two boys looked at each other. After spending many years caring for children, Dante had learned the best way to handle them was to offer them a choice between two options beneficial to him. It worked occasionally for children in the ghetto, and it worked every time here. “We’ll play nice,” the first boy said, and the other nodded. Dante let them go. “Good choice.” “Even though it was his f*****g fault!” “You’re a shitty passer!” “Hey!” Dante grabbed them both at the top of their heads, steadying them in place. “No swearing! Remember what happens to boys who swear?” The boys rolled their eyes and said simultaneously, “They don’t get sweets.” “That’s right.” Dante let them go again. “Now, get your asses back inside. Lunch is ready.” The children ran into the building of the orphanage. The tasty smell of porridge was already reaching the playground. Sometimes, Dante found it strange how easy it was to live here. This village was a hidden haven where nothing bad was lurking in the shadows. Sure, there was a lot of work to be done for everyone to live well, but he was never afraid someone would come and ruin everything they built. The sound of breaking dishes reached him. Dante flinched and gazed at the orphanage. Something was wrong. Anyone could have dropped a dish by mistake. There was barely any day when something didn’t break in this place. But there never was tension in the air. Dante knew this tension all too well. He carefully approached the back entrance, his steps on the grass barely noticeable even in the current windless state of the mountain. Nature itself had quieted down for him to hear someone crying. There must be an unpleasant visitor today, agitating the children. One of the female staff of the orphanage was arguing with someone in outrage. Dante saw the golden uniforms passing through the corridors and hid behind a corner. His breath stilled in his lungs. Thankfully, no one noticed him. It must have been five years since he was in the presence of an entire squad of guardian angels. Guardians never dared to traverse the mountains. That’s why Raphael and Dante stood clear from large towns or villages. Raphael especially was always in disguise. This village never had stationed guardians, so these were visitors. “You don’t have any right to search the orphanage!” Dante’s female colleague yelled after the guardians. They ignored her, while spreading through all the rooms, pushing away furniture and breaking into the locked doors. “We have a warrant from the Court of Dominion,” another female voice sounded through the corridor. “We’ve received information about criminal fugitives hiding in this village.” Dante carefully peeked from his hiding place. His female colleague was arguing with a black woman in a golden uniform, holding a piece of paper with a vivid red stamp. From his spot, he also noticed two distinct red stripes over her shoulder. She was an archangel—a platoon leader. It was rare to see archangels on the field with ordinary guardians. Archangels usually had desk work, delegating responsibilities. Sometimes they led special operations with elite squads deployed to search for the worst criminals. Nothing was worse than being an enemy of Heaven. So, the law had finally caught up to him. “Well, you won’t find anything, because there are no fugitives here!” the female staff insisted. The archangel put away the warrant. “That’s for us to decide.” Dante silently headed to the exit. If this squad of guardians have traversed the mountain to get here, then they would soon reach the cabin, too. He had to take Raphael and get out of there as fast as possible. He should have known good times never lasted. They’ve made so many beautiful memories here. People were kind to him, they needed him and he was useful. This new home made him forget he would always be a wanted man. But the dream was over. He had talked about this with Raphael. In case the guardians found them, they would leave this place forever and search for happiness somewhere else. “No! No! Leave those alone!” Continuous breaking sounds assaulted Dante’s ears, and he stopped. Several guardians were in the arts and crafts room, pushing over furniture and toppling cupboards. On the walls were several shelves filled with plates and vases made by the children in pottery class. The guardians broke them on the floor one by one, as the children cried and pleaded with them to stop. Dante’s hands tightened into fists. The children worked so hard on those vases. Creating something beautiful with their own hands always puts the brightest smile on their faces. The guardians always did this. Every time, they ruthlessly stomped even an abandoned child’s smallest bit of happiness. This orphanage was supposed to be different. Dante stepped into the arts and crafts room, just in time as the last few vases were about to hit the wooden floor. He extended an arm and everything that was about to break stopped mid-air. The guardians stared at the strange phenomena, and the children gaped in wonder. Dante sent each saved item in the arms of the child that made it. The kids wrapped their arms around their creations and ran out of the room. One of them hid behind Dante. Little Ayana didn’t feel safe anywhere but behind her favorite teacher’s back. Dante has never seen these guardians before, but they just now made him their worst enemy. The air around the demon thickened and skewered. With a single motion of the head, a school desk hurled across the room into a guardian, throwing him into the corridor. Little Ayana shrieked, though she wasn’t truly afraid. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the scene. His horrified female colleague was also in the room, bearing witness to everything. She had employed an escaped enemy of Heaven. This was going to destroy all of Dante’s relationships in the last five years. The guardians who remained in the room prepared their weapons, firearms, but not swords. So they’d started using ancient weapons, after all. “Hold your fire!” a loud female voice ordered. The guardian archangel walked into the room. Her subordinates had taken aim at Dante, but no one was pulling the trigger. Dante felt no killing-intent either. The archangel was just as tall as most of her male guardians and filled out her uniform with quite a bit of muscle. Her hair was cut short in a stylish and neat hairdo that accentuated her gentle facial features. Her dark eyes were so intense, she could bore a hole through him. “Stop vandalizing my orphanage or I swear, you’re all flying off this f*****g mountain,” Dante said in a tone few people had heard from him. “I told them to vandalize only until you showed yourself,” the archangel said, not afraid of the paranormal air filling the room. “I’ve been told you lose your temper when kids cry.” “Isaac, what’s going on?” his female colleague asked, petrified. “Isaac?” the archangel said. “That’s how people know you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she stepped before him, not too close to trigger more anger, but still not close enough to speak comfortably. She wasn’t reaching for her weapon either, and the lack of killing-intent was making Dante confused. Guardians always wanted to kill him. “Dante, I’m archangel Remiel and I’m not here for you,” she said. “Take us to Raphael Azelys. That’s all we want. If you do, we’ll leave and never come back.” “I don’t know where he is,” he said. “We separated years ago.” Remiel pulled out another piece of paper from her pocket. “Dante, the Dominions offer you a full pardon for your crimes, as long as you cooperate.” Dante looked at the paper as she unfolded it for him. It listed several reasons absolving him of all his previous crimes, including being a confirmed accomplice of an enemy of Heaven. In the end, the document had the official seal of the Dominions, the downward-pointing flaming sword. “You never were an enemy of Heaven, Dante,” Remiel said. “You were simply following the orders of your then sovereign. The High Dominion himself vouches for your innocence, but only if you cooperate in capturing Raphael Azelys.” Cassiel Astaroth vouched for Dante? They never once spoke to each other. This was an attack on Raphael. Smart people knew that to capture Raphael, they should start by separating him from Dante. His lover enraged too many powerful people. “You must have heard the queen gave every demon in the world angel citizenship,” Remiel said with a kind smile. “This is a chance to erase the crimes of your past and live peacefully for the rest of your life, without having to hide. Just do one last service for Heaven.” The air around Dante lightened, as he imagined the clear blue sky in this calm village, children’s laughter, and the sweet murmur of the neighbors. Freshly baked goods for everyone. Colleagues and children sit before the fireplace in the winter playing or telling stories, and no one is freezing to death. He could tell everyone his real name. He wouldn’t have to hide, or always look over his shoulder, wondering if the law was finally coming for him. No more stealing this comfortable happiness. It would be rightfully his. He could watch the children grow up and shape them into good people, just as he always wanted. He had to admit, it was a good bait. “I’ll take you to him,” Dante said. Remiel smirked. “A wise choice.” The day had gotten even chillier than the morning. The sky was clear, and the sun was shining over the village of Cava, while a chilling wind whisked the grass to the side. Dante walked out of the orphanage through the front door, followed by Remiel and her entire squad of guardians. Old villagers walked out of their houses, staring at the orphanage from a distance, murmuring to each other, wondering what was going on. Most of these people were in their old age and they’d never stepped down from the mountain. For many, this was also the first time seeing a guardian. They knew Dante as Isaac. And by now, his true identity must have already circled through the houses. They looked at him in shock, accusingly, with betrayal filling their eyes. It was fine. Everything will be over soon. “No! No! Teacher, stay!” Little Ayana ran out the door and past the guardians until she stood before Dante, not allowing him to walk any further. She was seven years old. The girl had the most adorable red eyes, and she was still clutching her precious vase. Dante kneeled at her level. “Go back inside, Ayana. They won’t come back here anymore, I promise.” “Will you come back?” Dante smiled. “Of course.” “You’re lying.” Dante shuddered at the blunt reply. There wasn’t even a shred of doubt in her voice. Innocent eyes looked straight into his soul. He was never more exposed. Dante always was bad at lying, but he didn’t think he was this hopelessly transparent. And now he stood here, his soul bared before a child’s gaze that saw nothing but the truth. He hugged the little girl and let out a shaky breath while silently suppressing a sob. “I’ll be back,” he said. “I’ll be back, whatever it takes.”