ILLUMINE

Chapter One

On the seventh day of each Earth month, the heads of the seven celestial families convened with the Holy Revolution. This sacred tradition granted only the leaders of each family access to the Divine Being. The lower-ranking angels could hear the Holy Revolution’s voice only through their leaders, who passed down the words of the Divine.

The Celestial Palace housed seven noble families, each entrusted with a crucial role in the balance of existence. Rafaion guided humanity, ensuring mortals stayed on the path of righteousness while leaving Gavriel responsible for delivering messages to the Holy Revolution’s prophets, however, no prophet had been sent for five thousand years. His house stood empty, save for him. Azryan on the other hand oversaw the transition of souls, ensuring the dead passed on peacefully and Urithan bestowed wisdom upon mankind, granting divine insight to the worthy. Sarianis administered judgment, determining the fate of souls in the afterlife. Ragmaris maintained celestial order, ensuring harmony in the heavenly realm, and for this, he is known as the peacemaker lastly, Mikealion protected all creation, guarding against the forces of darkness.

Each family was meant to receive an angel to assist in their sacred mission. But in the house of Gavriel, none had been created until that fateful day.

“I have a task for you, Gavriel,” the Holy Revolution declared. “You are to be assigned an angel—one unlike any other.”

Gavriel, ever loyal, knelt before the Divine. “I will do as you command. Who is the prophet I am to deliver?”

The Holy Revolution’s voice remained calm. “This task is not on Earth. The being is here, before you.”

Gavriel hesitated. “You mean… a child? One I must deliver as Mary did?”

“Calm yourself,” the Holy Revolution replied. “This is a new creation, unlike any before. He will eat, sleep, and feel as humans do, but he will remain here with you. You must not let him leave until I grant permission.”

Gavriel looked down at the infant in his arms. “But he has no wings. He looks nothing like us. How will he survive?”

“I will provide what is needed,” the Holy Revolution assured him. “Your only task is to keep him within your sight.”

Gavriel still seemed unsure. “What shall we name him?”

The Holy Revolution’s voice softened. “We shall name him Illumine, for he is the light I have molded from the dust. And I wish to see how this light will shine.”

With that, the celestial meeting ended, and Gavriel was left with a child—an angel unlike any other, one who would exist as both divine and human.

Years passed, and the world continued to change. But in the house of Gavriel, time felt stagnant. Whispers filled the celestial palace, and other angels kept their distance, wary of the child raised within Gavriel’s walls.

Illumine, now 200 years old by celestial standards but appearing as a fifteen-year-old, sat patiently waiting for Gavriel’s return. When he sensed his presence, he rose to meet him.

How was the meeting?" His voice carried the usual hope, though he already knew the answer.

“It was fine,” Gavriel replied, his tone clipped.

Illumine hesitated before asking, “Did the Holy One say anything about me?”

Gavriel exhaled sharply. “No, Illumine. When the time is right, you will know.” His expression softened slightly. “Are you hungry?”

Illumine frowned. “You don’t care.”

Gavriel held his gaze. “You think I don’t care? I am the only one who understands you and mind you, you are the only one who looks like this and I am the only angel you have communicated with.”

Illumine’s frustration boiled over. “If you understood, you wouldn’t keep me trapped here, waiting for a purpose I don’t even understand! I cry, I get hungry, I feel things I shouldn’t—”

Gavriel stepped closer, his tone unwavering. “I understand more than you think. I may not feel the way you do, but I once lived among humans.”

Illumine’s breath hitched. “If my kind is on Earth, why am I here?”

Gavriel looked away. “Only He knows. Ask Him.”

Illumine clenched his fists. “If only He would answer me.”

“He always does, you just don’t give it time,” Gavriel said simply before vanishing.

Illumine wandered to the window, staring out into the celestial realm. A group of angels had gathered in the distance, watching something below. With Gavriel gone, curiosity got the better of him.

Before he could leave, his pet—a strange creature Gavriel had given him—approached. “Lion, you can’t come with me,” Illumine whispered.

The creature growled.

“Fine,” Illumine muttered, picking Lion up. “Just don’t give me away.”

They approached the gathered angels, keeping a distance. Illumine watched as the angels of Azryan observed humans on the brink of death, their expressions indifferent. It unsettled him. Then, something strange happened—his vision blurred, and he felt moisture on his cheeks.

Tears.

Angels weren’t supposed to cry. He quickly wiped them away, heart pounding. No one had seen him—he hoped.

“Interesting,” a voice cooed behind him.

Illumine turned sharply, nearly dropping Lion. A female angel stood before him, her presence unlike any he had encountered. She exuded mystery, her wings magnificent, nearly as grand as Gavriel’s.

Azharis.

“What are you doing here, sweet human?” she asked, her voice melodic.

“I…” Illumine faltered.

Azharis laughed softly. “Amazed by my beauty? I promise I won’t harm you. I am much kinder in this realm.”

She reached out toward him, but Lion let out a low growl. Awareness hit Illumine—Gavriel was looking for him.

“I have to go,” he blurted and darted away before she could react.

He sprinted back home, heart hammering. Once inside, he collapsed onto his bed, feigning sleep when Gavriel entered moments later.

Through barely opened eyes, he watched Gavriel murmur a celestial prayer before quietly leaving.

When Illumine was alone, Lion nuzzled him. “I know,” Illumine whispered. “That was too close.”

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. The celestial realm, despite its beauty, felt like a prison.

And deep down, he knew—his answers were not here.

They were on Earth.

Days passed, and Illumine’s restlessness grew unbearable. The celestial palace, once a place of mystery and grandeur, now felt like a prison of endless silence. Every answer Gavriel refused to give only fueled the fire of his questions. He had spent years waiting, hoping for clarity, but it never came.

One night, as the celestial palace lay under the hush of twilight, he made his decision.

He would seek answers, even if it meant defying Gavriel and the Holy Revolution.

Gavriel was deep in meditation, his aura dimmed, his senses dulled by divine contemplation. It was the perfect moment. With Lion padding silently at his side, Illumine crept through the palace halls, his heartbeat echoing in his ears. Every step felt like an act of treason, yet he couldn’t stop. The air itself seemed to thicken around him, as though the palace could sense his intentions and sought to hold him back.

At the heart of the celestial realm stood the temple, a sacred space where angels communed with the Holy Revolution. Its grand doors towered before him, their intricate carvings glowing faintly with celestial energy. The sheer power radiating from them sent shivers through his spine.

He hesitated. His hand hovered over the handle.

“What am I doing?” he whispered.

Lion, standing by his feet, nudged him forward, golden eyes steady. The creature, though silent, carried an understanding beyond words.

Taking a deep breath, Illumine pushed the doors open.

The temple was vast and eerily silent, its marble floors glistening under the soft glow of floating orbs. The walls bore celestial symbols that seemed to hum, shifting and reshaping as though whispering secrets only the divine could comprehend. At its center stood an altar bathed in an otherworldly light, pulsating with the essence of the Holy Revolution.

Illumine’s steps echoed through the hall, his breath unsteady. Kneeling before the altar, he pressed his trembling hands together.

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I need to understand. Why am I here? Why did you create me? I feel so out of place, so… broken.” His voice cracked, and he clenched his fists. “If I’m meant to stay here, give me a sign. If I’m not, then… forgive me for what I’m about to do.”

Silence.

Not a whisper, not an echo, not even the faintest flicker of acknowledgment.

But deep in his chest, a strange warmth spread—a sensation not quite an answer, yet not a rejection either. It wasn’t what he had hoped for, but it was enough.

Rising to his feet, determination now replacing uncertainty, he turned and left the temple. His decision was made.

Illumine made his way to the edge of the celestial realm, where the boundary between the heavens and the mortal world wavered like a veil in the wind. The radiant glow of the palace dimmed behind him, swallowed by the vast emptiness ahead. Lion followed closely, its presence a small comfort against the unsettling quiet.

The barrier shimmered before him, rippling like liquid starlight. He could feel the difference in the air—on the other side, the unknown awaited.

Doubt clawed at him. Was this the right choice? Would the Holy Revolution strike him down for his defiance? Could he ever return?

“I have to know who I am,” he murmured. “Even if it means leaving everything behind.”

Taking one final glance at the celestial palace, he stepped through the veil.

The transition was violent.

Light collapsed into darkness, warmth into chilling cold. Gravity, foreign and unforgiving, yanked at his body. He plummeted, the celestial realm vanishing above him. His breath hitched, and his heart thundered.

The sky twisted around him, flashes of unknown colors streaking past. The wind roared in his ears, tearing at his clothes as he tumbled downward. Lion, caught in the same pull, let out a deep growl but remained close.

Then—impact.

Illumine hit the ground hard, pain erupting through his limbs. The force sent dust and debris flying, his body skidding across rough terrain. For the first time in his existence, he felt the sting of scrapes and bruises. His breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to push himself up, his hands sinking into damp earth.

The air was thick and heavy with unfamiliar scents. He coughed, his lungs burning from the sudden shift. Above him, the sky stretched vast and endless, no longer the radiant firmament of the celestial realm but a deep expanse of mortal night.

Lion landed beside him, shaking its fur and letting out a low, wary growl.

Illumine lifted his head, taking in his surroundings. He was in the heart of a city—a place unlike anything he had ever seen. Towering buildings loomed above him, their windows flickering with artificial light. Strange metal creatures—cars—raced down paved roads, their horns blaring, their headlights cutting through the dark. Neon signs buzzed, casting hues of red, blue, and green onto damp pavement.

And then—the sounds.

A cacophony of life assaulted his senses. Voices overlapped in countless tongues, laughter and arguments mixing into the chaos. Music blared from unseen sources, its rhythm pulsating like a heartbeat. Machinery hummed, metal clanked, and the air buzzed with electricity.

Illumine’s heart pounded. It was overwhelming, suffocating, exhilarating.

For the first time, he felt small.

But also, for the first time, he felt free.

Lion nudged his leg, grounding him. He reached down, his fingers brushing against the creature’s fur, drawing comfort from its steady presence.

He inhaled deeply, letting the city’s chaos seep into him. The celestial realm had been silent, restrained. But this place—it was alive.

“This is where it begins,” he whispered, his resolve hardening. The unknown stretched before him, vast and unpredictable.

With Lion at his side, he stepped forward, vanishing into the endless movement of the city.