Page 1 of Even Angels fall
Part 1: Versailles, year 2603
1
Angélique
“Again.”
Anne’s voice rings inside my head as I grab the rope and force my muscles to comply with her order for the seventy-fourth time.
Yes, I’ve been counting. Each repetition of the five meters of rope she had me climb every morning.
It’s half past seven, and it’s just the beginning of her torture. For half an hour, she had me running up and down the stairs in front of the fountain facing Versailles’ castle.
The view is beautiful, but I can’t seem to marvel at the sight, not even in the evening when the sun goes down and gives it a golden glow that reflects on the once-white stone.
You’d think I’m disenchanted, that I should bask in the sight of that monument built more than a millennia ago, but you’d hate it as much as I do if you had grown up here, too.
Well, maybe not if you were my little brother, Ambrose, though. He’s the next in line to take upon our father’s mantle.
Michaël.
It’s not his real name, but no one is authorized to pronounce the real one, since he’s been appointed to the majestic task of being Michaël. The archangel of warriors.
For the outside world, he’s an angel above all others.
For me, he’s a shitty father with a temper and a liar.
Some people would think it isn’t something truly surprising for Michaël’s daughter to train every day—even if some would think training from six to eleven, then two to six, and again from eight to midnight would be a bit overkill—but what they don’t know, is I haven’t been considered as his daughter for a while now.
I’m just a shameful being that he decided to hone as a weapon.
Since that fateful day eight years ago.
I say that fateful day because, until my thirteenth birthday, I had been trained—a bit less drastically than now—to be my father’s successor.
I was supposed to become the next Michaël. Because, despite their archaic ways, Michaël, Gabriel, and Raphaël aren’t so stubborn to think only men could do their job.
They’re just stubborn about the fact that only white-winged beings can do the job.
And that fateful day eight years ago traumatized me just because of that.
It was already not the best way to start my day when I woke up in a bloody bed.
I knew what had happened, but it didn’t make it easier to stomach.
No, what made it worse was when I ran outside for my training after cleaning everything, and without even realizing, I shifted and took flight.
Shifted.
Because yes—shifted.
When our dimension crashed with Earth’s dimension three hundred years ago, our ancestors lied.
It wasn’t the first time they made contact with the inhabitants of Earth. There used to be small doors between Earth and Aléa, but now they’re almost all closed because Aléa is dying and only a few people still live there.
Through those doors, my people used to come and go, and they learned.
They learned about their angels and their religions. They learned how to incite and awe people from Earth, and by doing so, they created a governing circle that matched Earth’s beliefs.
