Page 37 of The Hunchback

I paused and fearfully turned to face him. With long, determined strides, he marched towards me with a broad smile, and a gentle, almost tender expression on his angelic features. He glowed with an aura of strength and power that seemed to suck the light and oxygen right out of the room.

As he closed the distance between us, his steps faltered, and his smile faded. The slight frown marring his forehead gradually turned to horror, and then into a seething fury. I took a couple of involuntary steps back as he slowly advanced towards me like a predator moving in for the kill.

“What happened to your Light?” he whispered in a dangerously low voice. “Who did this?”

“I… I’m just burnt out. It… will com-come back,” I stuttered, backing away until the wall against my back stopped any further retreat.

“DO NOT LIE TO ME!” he shouted.

My ears buzzed from the deafening sound. Wincing, I resisted the urge to cover them with both hands. For a moment, I could have sworn the walls trembled. Continuing his advance, he invaded my personal space and brutally drew me into his embrace, his chest crushing mine. There was nothing erotic about the hold. His aura surrounded me, his Divine Light pushing into the gaping void in my chest, seeking my own Light to establish a link, a connection. But I had nothing to answer with. Unlike the day of the Festival when I’d already formed a bond with Kwazeem, Phoebus’s power didn’t hit a wall but passed right through me like the wind through an open valley.

The High Seraph released me as abruptly as he had embraced me. Visibly struggling to control his rage, he fisted his hands and spoke to me between his clenched teeth. “You will tell me who defiled you, and I will make him pay. The shame of a Fallen forcing himself upon you isn’t yours to bear. Speak freely. No harm will come to you.”

My lips quivering, I gazed at him with pleading eyes. “I promise you, Phoebus, I wasn’t violated. There is no Fallen to be hunted. You saw the power I expended at the Festival. I’m merely burnt out from pushing myself too hard. Give me a couple of days, and all will be back to normal.”

For half a second, I regained hope as a flicker of doubt crossed his stunning features. And then he stiffened, his expression filling with a mix of disbelief and disgust.

“You consented,” he whispered to himself, his glowing eyes flicking from side to side as he analyzed the situation before refocusing on me. “You voluntarily lay with that Fallen, and you’re now protecting him.”

“Phoebus…” I pleaded, clutching my staff with both hands and pressing it to my chest like a shield.

“TELL ME WHO HE IS!” Phoebus vociferated.

This time, I whimpered and covered my ears, fearing my eardrums would rupture. Curling up against the wall, I shook my head and whispered in a loop that there was no one. What patience the High Seraph still possessed snapped. I yelped when he caught me by the upper arm and pulled me after him. Without my staff, I probably would have fallen to the floor. My pathetic efforts to free myself failed miserably, and I half-stumbled, half-ran to keep up with him rather than be dragged like a dead carcass behind him.

His loud shouts had alerted the city guards, including Frollo’s personal guards: Ulrich and Garreth. While the latter two stared at the scene with tense, knowing expressions, the other guards appeared utterly confused. Torn between their duty to protect any Vestal with their life and respecting the ultimate authority of the Elohim, they looked to each other for clues on how to react.

Storming past them, his fingers digging into the tender flesh of my upper arm, Phoebus exited the temple and bellowed an order at the two Archangels that had accompanied him—not his generals. One of them activated the interface on his armband while the other retrieved something from his weapon’s belt. A hush descended over the city as the population looked on, mouths gaping and eyes disbelieving.

When we reached the plaza, a few meters from the Well’s tower, Phoebus stopped and forced me to face him. Hypnotized by the bluish-white glow of his eyes taking on a reddish tinge, I barely registered the crowd gathering around us. With one hand, he tore my staff out of my grasp and threw it to the ground. He wrapped the other around my neck and, for a moment, I feared he would just snap it. But instead, he drew my face only inches from his.

“To think I wanted to put Elysium at your feet,” he hissed. “Last chance to speak his name.”

I pinched my lips and held his gaze in defiance despite the tears gathering in my eyes.

“As you wish,” he replied with a cold, hard voice.

Phoebus cast a sideways glance at the Archangel who had removed something from his belt, before dragging me to the Well’s tower still shooting a beam into the sky. The other Archangel approached us and, while Phoebus held me immobile, he clasped a collar around my neck. Deceptively flimsy in appearance, it could have passed for a black, leather choker, but it was as resistant as titanium. I stared in horror as he leashed me to the tower. The leash, an ultra-resistant and extensible silver thread, would only allow me to move around a two meter radius.

Humiliation washed over me as I stood, leashed like a dog, with every eye in the city on me. Phoebus released me and turned away, although remaining near me. The Archangel who had fiddled with the interface of his armband came to stand before us and released a tiny hovering sphere which I recognized as a camera. Blood drained from my face as understanding dawned on me.

Looking straight at the miniature camera, Phoebus delivered a message which I knew would be instantly broadcast on every media, throughout Eden.

“Citizens of Eden, I stand before you as your High Seraph and ruler of the Nine Circles. More than a century ago, Eden was plunged into darkness when the Light Eater Arahzor defiled the Anointed Vestal Armina, consort to High Seraph Galleus. That treachery initiated the Fall, the bloody war that raged for decades on Eden. And today, the same crime has been repeated.”

A gasp rose among the audience who gaped at me with horrified looks.

“Only three days ago, Anointed Vestal Esmeralda brought infinite light to the realm, ushering in a new era of hope and prosperity,” Phoebus said, gesturing at me. “But she’s Anointed and Vestal no more. A Fallen has ruined her as Arazhor had ruined Armina.”

This time, shouts of anger and outrage rose from the crowd, ready to turn into a mob.

“This crime will not go unpunished,” the High Seraph continued, his voice filled with fury. “The culprit has until sunrise to submit to the Elohim’s justice. Fail to surrender, and my legions will descend upon every Fallen tribe and clan on Eden until that animal is found and has answered for his crime.”

My blood turned to ice as Phoebus gestured for his companion to stop the recording then turned to face me.

“You can’t do that!” I pleaded. “That’s not fair! There was no crime committed to justify the slaughter of innocents.”

“No crime?” he hissed.

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