House Of Legions (The Angel Descendants book 1)

Chapter 39 (Clare)

Though Khiron never had a night, not really, that was according to Alonso, who had informed her that the souls lighted Khiron, even so, Clare could hardly make out much but the shape and size of the figure across the lake, she knew, it was strange how, but she knew it was him, the robed guy.

She felt the pressure of Nathan’s hand as he squeezed her left shoulder, she stared at him, “What realm are the Shapeshifter’s from?” This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

“The fifth, It’s called Rughonia, but the ones you need to know about is the Asguardians.”

“Asguardians? You mean Thor and stuff?” his eyes widened, as he moved her forward, further from the crowd. They stood so close to the water, any closer and they would’ve been in it, “Ssshhh, don’t mention those names around here, it's forbidden.”

“Jee wiz dude, I was just saying, no need to get weird.” She whispered back, with a poor attempt of a scowl, “Who are they anyway, the Asguardians.”

Nathan stared directly into her irises, grave distress envisioned in the pain of his eyes. His turmoil, opened up for that moment, but she didn’t look away, because she knew if she was sure about anything - he was her brother, and all she wanted to do was hold him, and tell him it’ll be okay, but she couldn’t, because them being okay wasn’t certain. He dropped his eyes and gazed behind Clare, past her shoulder.

His guard up and tightened in his features, “Asguardian’s are the offspring of Angels, they don’t have Angelic abilities but they can use seraph verses nonetheless, you should watch yourself around them, our own have a habit of disappearing when it’s convenient for them.”

Clare gasped out a breath after she had held it a minute too long, she caught a sweet incensed smell of citronella from the near fire which burnt a few feet away from them, “What? Where are they?”

Clare could smell the brandy on her brother’s breath as they walked close together, moving in toward the crowd. He was practically bringing her down, leaning on her, inconspicuously. She didn’t confront him, or moan about it, she wouldn’t care if he was drunk, she didn’t blame him either, he just lost his mother, “We tend to purposely lose the invites addressed to Asguardians unless we really have to.”

“Offspring of Angels, I didn’t know they did stuff like that, amongst themselves.”

Her brother’s smile broadened at her, “You have much to learn sister. It’ll be easier if we could get that memory back, and I got someone who might be able to help with that, but first.”

He pointed to a coffin, as he did she looked around them, small bonfires burned in small holes dug up around the bayou.

Clare saw something, and thought projected from her mind, “Who’s those people, one of them got their hood up, how weird is that, I saw a guy dressed just like that.”

Nathan thought before he answered, he looked as though he wished she had never asked, “They’re the Casters, descendants of Tempters.”

The thought of her mother’s heart in the Tempters hand, flooded into her like hot liquid being poured on her flesh, “Why are your allies with these monsters,”

He gripped her arm and pulled her to one side, “Not so loud, they’re not monsters, they choose to be good and for thousands of years they’ve proved greater allies than the Angels themselves, especially to us Draikens.” Nathan paused and outstretched his fingers around her arm, but his voice was low, his eyes peeled on the crowd, as he gritted out, “Just give them a chance.”

He gently brushed Clare’s shoulder. Upon her frown, he whispered in her ear, “You should brace yourself, the Casters and Elvan are not always welcoming, especially the elders, I guess that they heard you.”

She didn’t reply, there was nothing she could have said, it was not like she knew anything about them or the realms. Nathan stalked away like his body was on fire, and she was the lighter.

There were people everywhere, some had hoods on, whilst others had them dropped down but one stood out, the only person who had not wore a robe but a dress, it was odd at first, but the lady turned around as if she sensed Clare’s eyes on her.

She likened the lady to an enchanting beauty from a fairytale story, the snow queen.

The woman’s skin was like milk in flesh, the fire lights were not enough to wash out her fairness, her beauty, RADIANT.

Clare had always wanted skin colourless as the lady’s, who stood at least ten feet away from her, dressed in a light silky blue dress which dropped to the floor.

She stared harder at the woman, noticing how her lips thinned, and her eyes sunk, from a lack of sleep and possibly poor diet. The woman’s black eyes never altered from Clare’s face, as she made her way closer to this unknown woman.

A handheld Clare’s arm, she turned to see who it was, but it was nobody. She scanned further down but the bayou was stacked with people, it could’ve been anyone or her imagination. Some dwelled on the high squared gold coffin, which got her attention soon enough.

She had subconsciously tried not to think of whose body laid in the gold coffin, which was positioned flat on a twelve-inch squared brick stand, that looked decades old, with parts of the bricks missing. She would have to face the obvious sooner.

“Your innocence is quite fascinating.”

Clare heard a woman’s voice from behind her. She turned as her hair slipped out of its bun, it was the woman from earlier.

“I am Alexandra, call me Alexa,” She smiled at Clare, her teeth surprisingly not diamonds but ordinary white.

“Did you know my mother?”