Page 81 of Crimson Promises
“I think I get it.”
“The Originals are the highest-ranking order. Underneath them are angels who are part of The Gifted class. Angels in The Gifted and Second Hierarchy are those with special angelic powers. Those powers were passed down through mostly ‘pure’ bloodlines, keeping the power restricted to those of elite society. Angels in The Gifted class could control the elements, space, and matter. There were gifts such as mind control and healing that were coveted above all else. In rare instances, when a Gifted angel was born into an ordinary family, they would be adopted as wards by those of The Gifted class to bolster the status of their household. Jos, my best friend that I told you about, he was part of The Gifted.”
“Are you not part of The Gifted?” Aurora poked her tongue into her cheek.
I was surprised she hadn’t run out the door screaming yet. She sat listening attentively.
“No,” I responded in an even voice. “I was fortunate enough to be born into Heaven’s equivalent of serfdom—The Ordinaries. Ordinaries make up the majority of Heaven’s population. Angels that hold minimal power or abilities. Our entire existence was spent breaking our backs for scraps with no real hope of ever elevating our societal status. We were looked down upon as scum by the two other castes. We were nobodies. There to serve but never rule. Born into a fate that was entirely out of our hands.”
She gave me a small encouraging nod, signaling she was following along.
“My mom never told me who my father was; she shrouded his identity up until her last breath. She worked day in and day out for a Gifted family for nothing. They took advantage of her situation, increased her workload, and never compensated her. She had a child to feed, so she took the pain, brutality, and treatment for me. She was beautiful, and more than one angel in a higher class took advantage of her lack of ability to protect herself. “
I clenched my fists, remembering one evening that changed the trajectory of my life. “Like usual, I thought I had come home from school to an empty house. She had tended to work later than usual at that point. I was about to fling my bag onto the floor. I was never allowed to do that when my mom was home when I heard a faint sobbing. Our home was small. She and I shared a bedroom and one bathroom, with a tiny living area. I had pushed open the door, slowly calling for her. She didn’t look at me, but her voice broke as she told me to leave. When I got to the other side of the room, she had a black eye, a cut across her chin, and bruises up and down her arms. One of her wings looked like it was cracked at an odd angle. Fury crackled in my veins like fireworks. I had never known anger like that. Little did I know it would become my constant companion. I had stalked around the house, trying to find some sort of weapon to punish those who hurt my mother. She had followed me through the house, if you could even call it that, begging me not to go; it would only cause more problems. She’d be more careful next time, she had said.”
I paused, swallowing through the pain of the memory.
“The monster inside me roared about how unfair it was and how powerless I was to protect her. I listened to the pleading and left it alone. I didn’t want to do anything to cause her further distress.”
Tears shimmered in Aurora’s eyes.
“A few months later, she died. She suffered something similar to what humans call a heart attack. In my heart, I knew it was because she was overworked and exhausted. Had she been a part of The Gifted in society, that never would have happened. She’d probably be alive, and everything would be different."
Sighing, my shoulders slumped as the weight of that memory pressed down on me. "Families we were born into determined our place in society, not who you were or what you contributed, but a lineage. Those in the upper echelons of society were often wicked and cunning whose thirst was never satiated, always wanting more. Everything was based on a fucking family tree. There was only one legal way to break the confines of the handcuffs of your birthright. Every five years, there was a lottery for one angel and their immediate family to join the ranks of The Gifted."
Aurora brought a pillow up to cover half of her face.
“A rare opportunity but a chance nonetheless to change your life. To actually become something or someone. Looking back now, it was a political attempt to offer those, including myself, hope. As an adult, I see it for what it was: another tool to continue to execute their oppression. Through our dark nights, we clung to the hope that we could someday win. Alas, I was never that lucky." I clenched my jaw, feeling the old anger resurface just as raw and potent.
"After she died, I was alone. My status as an Ordinary colored the way I saw the world, to the unfairness and injustice of the treatment of those in my class. We were all angels. We should have all had the chance to have equal access to knowledge and opportunities. None of us were better than others.”
She lowered the pillow then. I ran a hand through my hair. Not wanting to meet her gaze for what I had to say next.
“As I scattered her ashes into the wind, I vowed to never live the same life my mother had. I would become something more, even if I had to die trying.”
“Die?” Aurora squeaked.
I nodded. “I was an orphan desperate to survive. My darkest point was when I met Jos. If it hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t have survived. He was the only person besides my mother to see me for who I was rather than where I ‘belonged.’
“What happened with my mom pushed me to take action on the beliefs I had previously bottled up to not cause waves for her, but that was over now. I had been ready to face the full penance—or so I thought. It was because of those convictions that I made certain decisions and actions that may not have been right, but at the center of it was fighting for what I felt was right. Fighting for my mom’s memory.”
“Surely your choices couldn’t have been that bad,” she murmured.
I shook my head, wanting to get all of this out while I still had the courage. “And because of that, I was cast out of Heaven and became a fallen angel. My wings turned from pearl to a hewn gray. Forever a reminder of my choices and what I lost when I stuck to them.” My eyes drifted to the window, momentarily losing myself in the outside world as if searching for an escape from the memory.
Aurora was as still as a statue. Her hands were clasped on her knees, her back ramrod straight. The skin near her cuticles looked like tiny ribbons; she had been picking at them while I was talking.
I rushed to address the last accusation she had thrown at me, but I couldn’t meet her gaze. I turned to inspect the dust that accumulated on my television.
“When you revealed your ability to heal that night to me, the reason I didn’t react like other humans typically would is because someone with magical healing is something I’ve seen before. While a healing gift is rare in my kind, it’s almost unheard of for a human to possess. That’s why I advised you to keep it a secret. I still don’t understand how or why you have that ability, but if word got out, it would make you a target, and the last thing I want to see is you hurt?—"
I staggered forward a step as arms came around me. Aurora buried her nose between my shoulder blades.
“I’m so sorry you had to endure that pain,” she murmured into my back.
I brought my hands to settle over hers. “Thank you for saying that.” Swallowing down the emotion clogging my throat, I hadn’t anticipated this kind of reaction. We were kindred spirits of a sort. Her own life was not without tragedy or difficulties. She deserved more credit than what I had given her.
She untangled her hands from mine as she circled my hips before trailing the pads of her index fingers up my back to the spot in my shirt where my slats sat. I hadn’t resealed them since I accidentally exposed my wings.
