Is This His Ambition?

So then I basically got grounded; no more indoor flying attacks. Yeah, it sucks how things just happened. After the swirling vortex of violet flames, demonic energy, and motherly love and wrath combined to stoke it all, I wound up face-planting in a rose bush. Good thing my pretty face didn’t get scarred by any thorns, though - Samael wasn’t so lucky, though; he wound up tangled in the coils of Venuisio Carnivorio, otherwise known as a demonic flesh-eating plant; mom keeps it around to ward off stray pests, but after a harsh scolding, Samael was eventually pulled free. And then there was just me, legs flailing like some toy robot turned on its stomach, acting like I couldn’t get up, because realistically, I couldn’t.

“So…seems like you had fun with Samael this morning?” asked my father as he bandaged my head with an almost deceptive sense of grace, “That’s good; sometimes I do not know what to do with him - always seeking work and glorification of the monarchy before his needs. It’s valiant, but even butlers need joy.”

“I took his favorite tie this time, daddy!” I said with a gleeful giggle. Sure, I was 8 years old now, but I still had enough intelligence from my past life to build coherent sentences. But in the interest of “playing my part,” I choose to keep my wording simple; it’s actually a lot of fun.

“Hahaha! Yes, I see that. But daughter, fun as it may be…erm, well, I heard the explosion from my chambers. The Carnation Garden again?”

“Ulp! Ummmm uhhh…I plead to silence!”

“Daughter, we’ve spoken about this - gardening is a precious pastime for your mother. Her strength is not what it once was; the illness wears away at her on a daily basis. It’s why it’s so therapeutic to her; it acts as a form of stabilization in her sickness and boredom. I know you are still young and truly meant no harm, but…do try to be more considerate of this going forward, hm?”

“Okay…Sorry, daddy…”

“As I said once before, no harm done,” he said with a chuckle, lifting me off his lap and suspending me up high, my eyes meeting his as we both gazed into each other’s very sense of being, with nothing but approving and joyous smiles to meet each other with. But almost as suddenly as he picked me up by the arms and shoulders, King Enoch had an epiphany of sorts - it was practically written all over his face, and his eyes became agleam with something darker, almost sinister if not for the soft, murmuring tone he maintained in his tone of voice and dialect.

“Say…Daughter? You recently had your 8th birthday, correct?”

I nodded in agreement, both pigtails flapping back and forth.

“Good, then that means you may be of age after all. I believe it is time I bestow upon you a prophecy foretold by the 4 leading members of the Inoi themselves. Or rather, run along for now and begin your chores. After dinner, when your mother and I discuss the matter, we shall both escort you to the place where destiny awaits you. How does that sound?”

Once again, I nodded and said, “Okay, Daddy.” Obviously having more than a few questions for the Archangel king, a part of me felt anything I could, or would, have asked was gonna be answered more than soon enough. Besides, I was still just a kid - I only knew as much as I could realistically let on. For girls like me, it’s better to obey their parents than potentially cause a scene. With that, I hopped, skipped, and lightly fluttered out of my father’s arms, ready to start organizing my clean clothes, among other things, as he asked of me. I almost suppressed any stray thought I might have had at the time, but as I turned, just enough to properly close his bedroom door, I could see it in my father’s eyes again: that same ominous glint of…something weirdly fascinating, yet still so sinister feeling…
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February 27th, 2249, 12:00 AM - The world of Libertalia - Yamo: Auriel Castle
Samael escorts Queen Leeuw and Princess Lilim to King Enoch’s suite

As the moonlight shone through the stained glass windows, my heels clicked against the floor, slowly, warily, my arm stretched up and out, tightly wrapped in the palm of Samael as he escorted me and my mother to the Archangel king’s study, deep under the basement. “What could my destiny be?” I thought to myself. My mother’s eyes kept darting back and forth to look at me, occasionally smiling and even waving at me one time; despite her being in-the-know about the destiny my father spoke of, it felt like before in my past life, where I must have been given a treat before hearing bad news - I didn’t think any deeper beyond that though, because if Leeuw was there, Enoch just had to be considerate of any concerns of his wife.

“Mommy, what is my destiny?” I peeped, finally breaking the eerie silence as we continued further underground.

But for the first time in my eight years of living in this world, Leeuw didn’t turn her attention to me - she continued facing forward, not even letting the sight of me in her peripheral vision. Her walk cycle was graceful and coordinated, like a ballerina on stage; her tone of voice was uncharacteristically distant, leaving a hand to run against dusty furniture as she responded.

“You’ll understand in a little bit, dear; be patient…”

Her words haunted me then. I couldn’t help but remember all my previous interactions with this Leeuw - usually she was charismatically eccentric, even when seriously offended by something; it never stopped her from seeing the inner good in living things, despite ironically viewing them as lost lambs and her as their shepherd. This, however, felt…mournful. I just turned my head and faced forward, like she did, making sure not to utter a sound until we met Daddy in his study. For what felt like an eternity of one foot after the other, however, we had finally arrived: the suite of Enoch Archangel.

“Welcome, Wife. Daughter. Samael. I have been expecting you.”

“My love, please, she is just a–”

With a swift motion of the air, torn into a deep woosh, his hand raised itself in front of my mother’s face, “We talked it over, and you gave your consent…I will not have any spawn of mine reduced to mediocrity.” My father’s remark left little to be imagined - cold words, direct tone of voice, and eyes like daggers, gazing into my mother’s very soul; this wasn’t the charismatically goofy king and father of my life. No, this was somebody else entirely; he may as well have been somebody else to me, because my mother’s eyes widened in his raised voice, even stepping a few paces back, intentionally, before my path. But I still peeked my head from behind her waist.

“What mediocrity, father?” I asked, maintaining my childlike persona.

My father’s lips curled into a pearl white grin, chuckling to himself as he stroked his beard with an almost debonair sense of pride, “That, daughter, is an excellent question - one that I am more than happy to answer. Please, all of you can enter my suite and I will…Elucidate you all, hehe…Samael?” And not a second too soon after saying that - the room echoing at a confident snap of Daddy’s fingers - did Sam close the door behind me and my family, sealing us all inside. No, thinking about it more, we were trapped inside. Trapped with a father I could’ve sworn was down with a sickness. Trapped with a father who was acting more warlord than holy warrior. Sam, meanwhile, circled the room until reaching an open book that lay resting upon the dimly-lit altar, pentagrams strewn across the floor around it. Could this be…his ambition?