My Soul card is a Reaper-Chapter 772: The world of Irth (part-38)

Azzy stood on the balcony, the cool night air brushing against his skin, as Uriel snapped a finger, casting a subtle noise-canceling spell around them.

The bustling sounds from the banquet hall were gone, replaced by an eerie silence.

Uriel turned to face him, his long blond hair flowing softly in the breeze. His eyes, distant and unreadable, locked onto Azzy's.

"Let me tell you a story," Uriel began, his voice cold, detached. "A story that stretches back millions of years. Back when the Olympians had just won the war of gods."

Azzy raised an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. "What does this have to do with me? Why don't you just get to the point right away?" frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

Uriel ignored the question and continued, "After their victory, the Olympians greedily absorbed the divine essences of the Outer Gods. This period is called the 'Great Merge'. This incident increased the power of Olympus exponentially. The Angels who already lost their Supreme Angel were now weaker than ever. We Archangels became all worried about their possible designs on our realm. We made a deal with Zeus, not to be involved in their territories in exchange for peace. But what they didn't know is that our Supreme Angel isn't truly erased from existence. His soul still existed. Moreover, we had a couple of cosmic jewels lying in our treasure, which our Lord has collected back when he tried to reclaim his strength."

Azzy frowned, "The cosmic jewels?"

"In order to create a suitable body for the Supreme Angel's power. After all, only a cosmic jewel has the strength to bear our Lord's soul," Uriel went on, his tone steady, "We used the Jewel of Death and used a technique our Lord left with us. With it, we created a new figure—The Angel of Death."

Azzy felt a shiver run down his spine as he felt something big, but Uriel's gaze never wavered. "This Angel of Death was meant to be a host, a vessel for the Supreme Angel's return. But something unexpected happened."

"What?" Azzy asked, leaning in, his curiosity piqued.

"The Angel of Death fell in love," Uriel said flatly, "with Zeus' daughter, Artemis."

Azzy's eyes widened, taken aback by the news. "Artemis? The Virgin goddess of the hunt?"

"Yes," Uriel replied, his voice devoid of emotion. "But because of the long-standing animosity between the angels and the Olympians, and the fact that he shares a similar power to Thanatos, he was betrayed. Led into a trap, and killed mysteriously."

Azzy felt a weight in his chest, though he wasn't sure why. He was about to ask more, but Uriel went on, unfazed by the tension.

"Artemis, devastated by his death, vowed chastity. She rejected all forms of marriage for the rest of her life. In the meantime, the jewel of death vanished into cosmos, never to be found again."

Azzy took a deep breath, trying to piece together the fragments of the story. "So, what's your point? What does this have to do with me?"

Uriel stared at him, his eyes still empty, but now, there was a slight shift in his tone. "As I have said earlier, this story... it ties directly to you. And to your fate. Be patient."

Uriel paused for a moment, letting Azzy digest the information before continuing. "Anyways, the Angel of Death's demise consumed Brother Michael with a vengeance as he was looking forward to our Lord's return, more than anyone else. Elysium almost went to war against Zeus, who was actually looking forward to it. But, we stopped him and forced Zeus to agree to another round of peace as long as he gave up a few territories for us to manage. The peace was established and thousands of your earth years passed away. But, the peace wasn't everlasting. Michael was still hung up on his dream. He shifted his attention to our long-time enemies, the fallen ones and their demons. After tormenting them for so long with continuous wars, Michael managed to acquire the Jewel of Light from Hell. And using it as a base, he created a new figure. A being named Celeste."

Azzy blinked, a spark of recognition flashing in his eyes. "Celeste?" he repeated. "Wait. I remember her name. Devorah Garcia introduced herself as the daughter of the Death Clan's founder... and an angel princess named Celeste. She was my ancestor's wife…"

Inside Azzy's mind space, the remnant spirit of the founder hummed in approval and said. "I married many women, Azrael but she is the only one I ever truly loved."

Azzy made a mental note but focused on the Archangel standing before him.

Meanwhile, Uriel nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yes. She was the one."

Azzy's thoughts raced. The pieces were starting to fit together, but there were still too many gaps. "So, did Celeste know that she was a vessel?"

"She didn't know," Uriel said, his tone unwavering, "because there was opposition—Jophiel, one of our brothers, was against the emergence of our creator."

"Why?" Azzy frowned. "Anyway, what happened afterward?"

"Jophiel took her soul to Gaia, to Earth," Uriel continued, his voice now tinged with an ancient bitterness. "There, she was planted into the body of a witch named Morgana."

Azzy's eyes narrowed. "Morgana? The witch from the Arthurian legends? Wasn't she the sister of Arthur Pendragon?"

"Yes. Celeste was born again as Artaigne Pendragon," Uriel said as if stating a fact. "She lived her life unaware of her true origins. Eventually, she fell in love with your founder, Azrael Garcia—or should I say your own past self. Together, they had a child. They lived in peace… until my dear brother found her.

Azzy's frown deepened. "You mean, Michael?" The more he listened to the story, the more he started having unpleasant feelings for this Archangel, who is basically by the way the most celebrated Archangel in not only Elysium but in this own damn world of Irth—The Lord's Right Hand.

"Yes," Uriel interrupted, "Michael. When he found Celeste, she refused to return with him. So, he used deceptive means to control her mind. In the end, he forced her to take the life of Arthur Pendragon—the Emperor of that mortal world."

Azzy felt a cold chill run through him. "And then?"

"And then," Uriel said flatly, "Azrael Garcia, devastated by what had happened, was forced to take her life with his own hands."

A sigh rang out in his mind space.