Archangel

At most, in comparison to his comrades in the White Roses, Lumière had gotten off easily. He had suffered a few broken bones, which after a week had begun to heal slightly. Meraline Avelis, a Blue Rose who had been acting as the leader of the White Roses had been buried in secret. This wasn’t just for the sake of her privacy, nor just to keep the general populace from finding out about Heaven’s Roses. It was also because the Nameless, who had grown rampant in recent times, loved to use the bodies of deceased Roses as hosts for their horrific actions. This was, in a way, all to wreak havoc on the emotional states of those who may have known the deceased personally.

Regardless, the White Roses who learned under her were barred from attending Meraline’s funeral. Whatever family she had was not informed of her death, either. Being a Heaven’s Rose usually meant separation from one’s personal and family life. This wasn’t because it was forbidden. In fact, it wasn’t even standard practice. It was just a general acceptance that as a Heaven’s Rose, you were under the constant threat of death, which extended to your loved ones.

“She had a daughter, I believe. She didn’t really talk about her life much. None of us do.” Lumière overheard Father Benedict talking as he walked through the halls of the Cathedral’s hospital. As he peered around the corner, he saw the familiar face of his childhood friend. However, next to him was a figure that made Lumière’s skin crawl. He wore a long white cloak with gold patterning along its trim, with a large emblem of two intertwined feathered wings on its back. It was the Archangel that Lumière had seen take down the Nameless, Asmodeus, just a week prior.

“Mr. Selaphiel, are you sure it’s that necessary to keep her family in the dark?”

“That’s what she wanted, for the sake of the protection of her family. All members of Heaven’s Roses are made to write down their wills once entering a domain of magic. You know this much- you did it yourself. It’s the blood contract of an alchemist. It can’t be ignored, nor is there any way you can skirt past it.” The Archangel replied in a deep voice. “It is just how it has to be. Often times, reality is just that unfortunate.”

Being a Heaven’s Rose was a service to society, but it was also a punishment for the guilty, and a home for the needy. If you were unlucky enough to stumble into danger involving the Nameless, and also have been born to poverty, it was a likely choice to join the Heaven’s Roses. After all, you became surrounded by all aspects of a home- food, family, and warmth, all at the cost of danger that you were already facing. The only key to unlocking a life as a member of Heaven’s Roses was to, by any insignificant odds, face death and come out alive.

However, it was also punishment. If one committed a deed that went against common law, which was not inherently punishable by death, it was a consideration to force them to join Heaven’s Roses. Under the strict watch of the overseer, who was usually a higher-ranking Rose, they would be initiated into a Rose team in order to pay back their ‘debt to society’. Of course, even knowing they were facing death, many thought it a fine offer in exchange for escaping a lengthy time in prison.

It was a family of misfits, a group of outcasts; it was a home for the unwanted, a funeral for those that society did not want to remain alive.

As Lumière listened in on their conversation, the Archangel, Selaphiel, suddenly turned his head and spoke towards the corner of the hallway. “Do you have something to add, little fledgling?”

Lumière’s body tensed up slightly. He peeked his head around the corner to see that both Father Benedict and the Archangel had turned to look towards him. Father Benedict had a slightly annoyed look on his face, but the Archangel’s once serious expression grew a bit genial. He smiled and gestured towards Lumière. “Come closer. Why not join the conversation? We’re talking about your former advisor, Meraline Avelis.”

Lumière slowly came around the corner hesitantly, glancing around the room they had been talking in before facing the man who stood taller than himself. The man dressed in an ornate white cloak had short black hair parted on both sides of his head, and his eyes were enveloped in dark rings of fatigue. He looked slightly haggard, but at the same time also regal in appearance. He was a mess who conducted himself as if he wasn’t.

In his presence, Lumière could immediately tell that his power paled in comparison to the Sinner’s messenger, Mr. Sand. He could also tell that he was not even equivalent to the Joker who presided over the House of Cards. Still, the calm and silent aura that exuded restrained killing intent. It was like a knife balanced on a fingertip that could fall either way; it was a feeling that showed one was welcome, but could also be killed at any moment. Lumière realised then that he had grown far too accustomed to acting bigger than he was. In reality, to most people he was not actively playing a persona in front of, he was equivalent to a normal person who lacked any significant power. In front of the Archangel, he was truly a bug.After all, lies and belief were not always equivalent to reality.

“Ms. Meraline was an unfortunate casualty. If I had acted with more tact, she would have survived.” Lumière replied, his voice calm and unwavering. It was uncharacteristic of someone who had guilt in his heart. In fact, Lumière didn’t have any. It was just the result of his decision to use the Roses as a stepping stone towards his goal.

“No, I don’t think there’s much you could have done.” Selaphiel spoke with a smile. He had picked up on Lumière’s demeanor.

‘Well, this much is something I need to show off. My enigmatic actions in such a dangerous situation would seem strange, unless it was clear that I had no care for those around me. If I were someone who actually cared for my comrades, acting so brazenly would bring up too many questions. Particularly, it would seem suspicious that I would have enough confidence to protect my comrades in that situation. However, a selfish person who only looks out for himself might have enough confidence to try and survive on his own if he were to sacrifice his teammates.’

“You’re the type of person I tend to like the least, Lumière Croft.” Selaphiel spoke, a smile still unwavering on his expression.

In the background, Father Benedict’s annoyed expression turned a bit surprised by the Archangel’s sudden comment. Lumière’s expression mimicked the same. However, his internal mood shifted drastically, like a fire had been lit inside his eyes to mark the beginning of his performance.

‘Perfect. It doesn’t really matter to me if you like me. It only matters that you know who I am. It only matters that you know the me that I want you to see.’

So, Lumière shrugged. “If you don’t like me, then it seems I have no further use for standing here.”

As Lumière turned to walk away, Selaphiel called out once more. However, it was not like his usual voice. His words did not sound out into the air, but rather loudly reverberated in Lumière’s head. His mind pulsed, and he felt pangs of pain beating rapidly in his head.

“Lumière Croft. I will find out what is so strange about you. Everyone else seems blind to your antics, but I’m watching closely.” Selaphiel spoke amiably. It was like he had projected his voice only into Lumière’s head. “I can tell your words are carefully crafted. You’re a liar. A very good one, at that. How danger seems to surround you- I wonder how long you can continue to lie? Will it be as long as you live, or will you lie even beyond the grave? All I know for certain is that with what little power you have, you will surely die.”

Lumière turned his head slightly and grinned. “Die? I have trusted comrades beside me. I don’t fear that outcome.”

Lumière then turned his gaze away and began walking back towards the main hospital wing. Soon, he was gone.

“Wait! Lumi!” Ainsworth Benedict called out, rushing towards the corner where Lumière had turned. Realising he had left the Archangel behind, he suddenly turned towards Selaphiel and bowed his head. “Sorry, Mr. Selaphiel. I’ll take my leave now.”

Selaphiel nodded his head and smiled. “Sure. Have a nice day, Mr. Benedict.”

As he watched Ainsworth chase behind Lumière, Selaphiel laughed slightly.

‘Lumière Croft… why do the dangers of the world follow you? Death hangs above you like a dark cloud…’