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 This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

   Copyright © 2012 by MelomaneBookworm

   All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form


It is not known precisely where angels dwell - whether in the air, the void, or the planets.  It has not been God's pleasure that we should be informed of their abode.  ~Voltaire

Well, I could tell you that it's in another dimension where no ordinary person could enter... Where we were not allowed to enter. We were not supposed to be here. We were not blessed enough to cross His golden gates, yet somehow we did. And because of that, well you could say it was like a slap in the face to them.

"Filth, such filth dares to walk in this house where the Lord dwells." I could hear someone say. They say that music is the language of angels. Well, this one it was like someone was murdering a violin. My head turned to where the direction of the voice came and saw a man. Tall, with skin kissed by sunlight and hair as gold as its rays. He was holding a glass vial in one hand and a scroll on the other. The vial was filled with some sort of smoke-like thing. Neither gas nor liquid but freely moving and swirling inside it. Though he looked warm and glorious like the one he serves, his eyes were a cold and dark ocean that wanted to sink any ship that dared cross its surface.

But he was not the only one. There were more of them. The air buzzed of hissing and ear-splitting sounds, like an orchestra playing to a deranged conductor. It made me want to lunge at them and silence them forever.

"Kael, I want you to listen to me. Don't mind them." My companions voice shook me out of my daydreaming. We were both standing in the middle of a high ceilinged room. Everything was bright, white and elegant with gold trimmings , making me feel out of place. They were still staring at me too. Their gaze fixated on every aspect of me, they were eyeing the way my chest rose and fell as I breathed, how I blinked, how my black hair suddenly had a hint of mahogany brown when light caught it, how my knuckles crackled as I tucked them into small fists. 

I didn't look at my companion. Instead I just stood there and let my eyes roam around the room, skipping over their faces that spelled malice. It was a big room, some sort of hall made for banquets. The floor gleamed like diamonds laid under the sun and you can even see your reflection in them. The walls were white but gold markings wove in and out of them creating figures that I could not understand. I looked up and stared at all the tiny little crystals on the huge chandeleir smiling down at me. My eyes wandered and fell on a small waterfall cascading down from nowhere to a pool that sat in the middle of the room. Big and circular it shone, and the water inside it was like melted Zircon. 

"The Lord will speak with you now." a booming voice said overcoming the whispers of the crowd. Now this voice was both like a harp, smooth and calming and a cello that was low and warm giving off both power and light. Everyone fell silent as a man half naked just like the rest of them walked up to us. The white cloth that covered his torso was just like the walls of the room, intricate gold markings blazed against the immaculate white. His sandaled feet barely made a sound on the glistening floor.

"Why do you approach them unarmed, Michael? They could be up to something." his voice was like a drunk pianist trying to wake up the whole world with his out of tune piano. I looked at the man who spoke, his brown hair contrasting with his pearl white skin. Sapphire eyes glared at my companion before descending and then glaring down at me.

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