Abaddon

Chapter 16 : Abaddon

My face warmed as the sun’s rays pressed against my skin. I groaned and lifted an arm to block the light. Slowly, I forced my eyes open. The sky above stretched clear and blue. The morning carried a stillness that wrapped around the camp, broken only by the calls of birds hidden somewhere in the trees. I pushed myself up and smacked my dry lips together.

“I need water,” I muttered under my breath.

I planted my hands on the ground, ready to stand, but a pull at my shirt held me back. I looked down. Uriel and Elise were clinging to the fabric. Their fingers were tight but their faces calm, eyes still shut, breaths steady and even.

I raised a brow and felt the corner of my mouth tug into a faint smile. Carefully, I pried their fingers from the cloth one at a time, making sure they stayed asleep. Elise’s hand slid to the grass, unmoving. Uriel shifted slightly with a quiet sound before settling again.

For a moment I stayed there, watching them. Their faces were free of tension, untouched by what had happened. It struck me how different they looked asleep—Uriel without her guard, Elise without her fear.

From the side of my eye, movement caught my attention. A figure stood at the edge of the clearing, staring. I turned and found Azrael watching me. His gaze was cold and sharp. He raised a hand, motioning me over without speaking.

I hesitated. My eyes flicked back to Uriel and Elise. They were still asleep. Slowly, I got to my feet. I stepped over empty mugs and wooden cups scattered across the ground. Knights lay sprawled on the grass where the celebration had ended, their armor loose, their snores loud. I threaded through the mess, careful not to wake anyone, until I reached him.

Up close his expression had shifted. The coldness in his eyes dulled. A smile spread across his face but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Follow me,” he said softly.

His tone was calm but there was no mistaking it for a request. It was an order. Without a word I followed him as he turned and walked out of the camp. We passed under the trees and the sound of the camp faded behind us.

The walk stretched on in silence. Each step carried tension. Azrael didn’t speak and neither did I. His wings moved faintly with each stride, brushing the air. We kept walking until the trees thinned and vanished entirely.

We stepped into a barren stretch deep inside the Evergreen. No trees. No grass. No sound. The earth was gray and cracked underfoot. It was lifeless.

“What happened here?” I muttered, my voice low.

Azrael’s answer came without pause. “The fall of an angel.”

He turned his head toward me. The smile was gone. His golden eyes were sharp again.

My instincts flared. My feet slid back without thinking. I lowered my stance, ready for an attack. The weight of his mana built around him, but he didn’t strike. He only stared. Then he turned away.

“Have you wondered how an angel and a demon are related?”

His question was heavy. I hesitated, unsure whether to speak. My silence was its own answer.

“I see,” he said. “Then let me educate you.”

His voice hardened. “Uriel wasn’t always a demon. She was an angel. The brightest of us. A soul filled with light and love. Her presence brought joy to Heaven. That was until humanity and demonkind chose war. A war that had nothing to do with us.”

His mana surged, distorting the air. The ground trembled under my boots. I stepped back further, muscles tense.

“Yet Uriel begged the council,” he continued. “She pleaded to save humanity, and so we were deployed. All seven Archangels. Uriel included. We fought for your survival. For your sake. We won. But the earth was scarred beyond repair. It needed life. Divine life.”

He paused, his back still to me. Then he turned. His gaze pinned me in place. My breath caught. The air had grown thick, heavy with his power.

“My sister’s love for humankind led her to give her own,” he said. “She sacrificed her soul, taking on the corruption that had spread over your world. This act transformed her. It made her a demon. Her wish came true and humanity thrived. But to what end?”

His voice rose, sharp and bitter. “To cause wars among themselves? To kill and steal from each other? To blaspheme her name? They named the city in her honor and yet they defile the land she saved.”

He stopped speaking. Only the sound of the dead wind moved between us.

I didn’t answer. My fists tightened at my sides. His words painted a picture of Uriel I had never imagined. An angel who gave up everything for the same people who now hunted her.

Azrael’s wings shifted once. The golden light around him dimmed. His voice lost some of its edge. “Do you understand now why I came?”

I drew in a slow breath. “To protect her?”

“Yes,” he said, “and to watch you. To see what path you choose. Your decision will not end with you. It will ripple. It will either ignite a war greater than the last or bring it to its close.”

His words pressed against me, heavy. I felt the weight of them settle in my chest.

“What are you saying?” I asked.

Azrael’s voice deepened, steady as stone. “I am saying you cannot escape the role carved for you. You will stand as the blade of Heaven’s light or the hand of Death itself. Either way, both sides will call you by the same name. A name not chosen by men, nor by the council, but by fate itself.”

He stepped closer, the barren earth cracking beneath his boots. His golden eyes pierced into me, unblinking.

“Abaddon,” he said. “The Sword.”

I stood frozen, my fists clenched, my chest rising and falling with sharp breaths.

Azrael’s gaze lingered for a moment longer. Then he turned, wings spreading wide, his figure bathed in a faint glow.

“When the time comes,” he said, “you will understand what it means.”

Without another word, he rose from the ground, wings carrying him into the sky. The barren land shook with the force of his departure, dust spiraling into the air until he was gone.

I stood alone in the silence. The name still rang in my ears, louder than my own heartbeat.

Abaddon.

The Sword.