. I paused and butted in.
"Why you couldn't let what happen?" I questioned. Rhys froze, then turned back to Tate, silent. Tate barked a laugh.
"You've awoken it, and she doesn't even know!" He cried out, exasperated. Rhys clenched his jaw and stared at the floor. Tension shook his muscles, his nails dug into his palms. I reached forward out of instinct, placing my hand on his bicep and rubbing soothingly. He looked at me and lifted his lips in a small smile. I returned the smile.
"Now, somebody had better goddamn tell me what in the fuck is going on, or I will kill both of you. Right now." I smiled sweetly and dug my nails into Rhys' arm. He flinched. He reached to his arm and took my hand in his, interlocking our fingers. He turned to me.
"Kali, there is a prophecy. A child of Death, who carries heaven's eternal flame. Harbinger of destruction, creator of worlds. A phoenix she will rise from the ashes of Chaos. Whose fruit will overthrow Metatron and harness the power of Sin." He recited slowly, as if he had said it thousands of times before. I froze, my head spinning. I moved back to sit down on my couch, the two men staring at me. Tate scoffed.
"Heaven's eternal flame…" I whisper. Memories assailed me. Fire, burning smoke inflating my lungs. Cacophonous chanting from behind me, crawling forward toward the edge of a schism. Tiny hands reach into the darkness, but all there is is flame. I put my head in my hands shaking. The memories of that day pounded in my brain. The mysterious figure who pulled me out of the sea of fire. "How do you know this prophecy is accurate?" I asked.
Tate scoffed and shook his head. "It is straight from the Sibylline books. The rest of the prophecy is lost, that was pieced together from extant fragments. I've been chasing down leads on it for years." I gripped my knees. The Sibylline books were never wrong. From the great Seer Sybil, for the ancient Greeks, her prophecies were bound in a volume used by the people to divine the future and disaster. Suddenly a figure was kneeling before me, I looked up to see Tate placing his hand on my shoulder.
"Kali, there are ramifications to this prophecy. Consequences." He started slowly. "In both realms, this prophecy makes you a wanted asset for your abilities alone, the untapped raw power. You are a Source of energy. You call out to souls. Also, the prophecy states that your "fruit" – or children – will have insurmountable power. This means that most male demons, and some angels, are going to look to use that to their advantage." He stared into my eyes. I sunk lower and lower into the couch, trying to grasp what he was saying.
"You mean-" I started.
"Demons are going to want to mate with you." Rhys finished. I gasped. I stood from the couch and paced to the window, staring outside and tapping my foot nervously. Rhys came behind me and placed his hands gently on my arms, stilling me. I leaned back against him and sighed.
"Where do we go from here?" I asked Rhys. Rhys nuzzled against the top of my head and soothingly rubbed down my arms.
"We find someone who can train you, you need to learn how to harness and control your abilities." Rhys finished. "They are waking up because of the mating."
"We need to get moving ASAP. She is a homing beacon out here, that's how all of those demons found you the other night." Tate ordered. "Pack a bag, Kali."
I stopped stared at the two of them for a moment and sat back down on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. They stared at me incredulously.
"I think, before I go anywhere with you two, you should both explain to me exactly who you are."
Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, but nodded. He paced back and forth in front of me for a moment, before seating himself on my ottoman across from the couch. He leaned forward intently with his elbows on his knees.
"Kali, I was one of the Thrones. We are a class of celestial angel tasked with guarding the seat of Heaven. We are a warrior class, revered among the angels. Also known as the Ophanim. I was born into the position, rather than earning my way through the ranks. The Thrones are identified from birth. I held my pride in my position and my duty above all, until I fell." He began, staring into my eyes. When he discussed his fall, his eyes narrowed in sorrow, his fists clenched. I placed my hand on his arm, knowing this must be a sore topic for him.
"How did you fall?" I prompted him to continue.
"I owed Samael a favor. He called for it. Asked me to accompany him to one of the highest realms of Hell reserved for those of fanatics and righteous murderers. He told me what we would be retrieving would change the very fabric of the worlds, and it would be instrumental in preserving the seat of Heaven. Yet I knew interfering in the Hell realms was strictly forbidden. I couldn't say no, so I ended up in this barren wasteland, dried trees and shrubs, small huts for people to live in.
There was fire everywhere. Buildings were destroyed, carcasses writhed and smoked on the ground. Screams and death permeated the air. A great hole had opened in the Earth, with winds and flame shooting from it. And there was Samael. Walking from the flames, with you bundled and wrapped in his arms. You you whimpered and cried, you had been tortured in a cave by the humans. Your tiny eyes darted around to all of us, terrified one of us would punish you next. Samael handed you over to me.. I felt so warm, looking down at you. I just needed to keep you safe. Samael asked me to take you to the human realm." He held my hand and brushed a stray hair from my face.
I smiled fondly remembering the family that had taken me in, after I left the old man's hut on that fateful day after healing. I'd woken up blind in the world, only able to see with magic and shadow, not yet mastering what I needed to see fully.
They tried the best they could, I was often getting into trouble and sneaking off, feeling left out amongst the biological children. Eventually, I had been forced to leave, the nature of my inhumanity began to manifest itself noticeably. They tried to love me. I think they just didn't understand how to deal with me.
The classic signs of demonic powers had begun to manifest: burning things I'd touched when angry, shattering glass with my screams, calling winds. My parents noticed how when I wanted something, the victim's eyes would glaze over, and suddenly I was getting what I wanted.
This consuming rage ate away at me. I never felt like I belonged, never felt loved and accepted. I was wanted for my body and my power. Anyone I could ever lean on had given up on me, betrayed me or died. I'd never experienced what Rhys had: a sense of brotherhood, of belonging. A purpose you were born to, rules you would follow. Light. Love. A sense of guilt. He'd done his best by me, and had given it all up. I leaned into his touch, placing my hand over his. I didn't want to interrupt his story.
"When I returned to the Heavens, my superiors knew I had entered the land of the demons. The spark of your power still radiated from me. They demanded I bring you to them, to face punishment." He bit out the last word. I snorted incredulously.