House Of Legions (The Angel Descendants book 1) novel Chapter 33

The marble under the liquid gold was noticeable close-up, there was no sign of brick work. Stepping inside the automated door, it moved in an up and downward circular motion before it finally opened showing an empty space. Visioning high rise ceilings and gold brackets cushioning it in place, she paralleled her head to her feet and furthered her eyes to the marbled floor. Her jaw went slack, she was standing on no ordinary marble floor. This one was white with beige patterns moving constantly in the inside of it, making no permanent attached markings, but millions of intricate patterns.

She had seen Buckingham palace but that was merely an old faction of a castle compared to this.

Screening the place out, from the paintings to the fine craft, which positioned itself perfectly on a centre piece table that she had completely missed when she’d walked in. It was made of the same marble material as the floor. A sculpture of an Angel with wings that was too big for the small body, as little as the size of a kitten attached to it.

The sculpture was a work of art, the intricate details she saw from afar drew her nearer, admiration in her eyes, she could see the crafting of every eyelash and every line. Curiosity getting the better of her, she touched the Angel sculpture.

A flap of its wings, Clare stumbled and screamed, but not before its eyes opened, revealing big black irises. The sculpture was alive, there was no doubt by what she was clearly seeing, as its face twisted into a frown. It's mouth moved before it ascended toward the opposite side of the room.

Clare fell back, and looked up in terror as it flew around the room. Its body now grey, still sculptured like stone, but alive. Flapping across to the top of the hall, where a part of the rounded room was shown. Her eyes followed its out stretched wings, which appeared to be similar to an Angel, at least a sculptured one.

“ISADES.”

Clare turned to the commanding voice, “It got a name?”

Nathan walked into the room, as the sculptured Angel settled on his arm, looking at Clare, “Yes, one you should respect, he’s small but a real Angel.”

“Angel? OKAY.”

“You do know Kalbreal is an Angel right?”

Clare’s ears itched, she couldn’t say she didn’t believe it, because she did know, and Kalbreal as an Angel made sense. “So what Angel is ISADES?”

“He’s a protector, he’s given the Moonstones protection for a thousand years, a debt which was paid months ago, but he still chooses to stay, he won’t say why.”

Isades pierced her with his eyes, pitch black beady things, it got to her, like it knew something she did not.

The staring was broken at the sound of Caidrian, “This is our home, made by the Angel Gabriel, the marble alone is a protective seal so if our invisible seals got destroyed we can still seek shelters in our homes.”

“Seals? Verses? This all seems confusing.”

Caidrian explained, “Verses are like spells, it’s Angelic in nature, those from the Book of watchers, the Igori, and seals are Verses mixed with the souls of our dead, or blood of the living, it’s an offering for protection, only those of Angelic presence has them, you find them in stones as well, or appearing on our body.”

Nathan’s confidence screamed heart robber, he was gorgeous, well built, which she noticed was a common factor among the men she’d met in the past twenty four hours, “It’s much more than that, a whole lot more, Calub is good at explaining that kind of stuff.”

She spun herself around slowly, absorbing in her surroundings, inhaling the lingering smell of musk mixed with cinnamon.

“Come, you need to get ready for the crescent ceremony, you have tomorrow to admire the place.”

She looked at her brother who was leaning against the wall cutting a mango, as he spoke, “When one of our own dies in battle.” Nathan’s voice echoed in the open space, like a wave of sounds, “We preserve their soul until we absorb the Gazool or energy in english, of the deceased, unfortunately Calub won’t be able to join in.”

She looked at the floating lights just beneath the ceiling. They were small and bright, drifting in the air, with no destination, three across the entrance hall where she stood, “What’s up with the floating lights?”