The murmur of conversation died down as Professor Varric, the head of Angelology, entered the room. His tall frame was draped in a deep violet robe, his every step measured, as if to remind everyone that his presence commanded authority. His silvery glasses gleamed faintly in the light, and his sharp grey eyes swept across the class with an intensity that stilled even the most fidgeting students.
"Ah, esteemed students," Professor Varric began, his voice carrying an air of solemnity, "I trust you are well. Today, we explore the celestial hierarchy of angels—the foundation upon which our society is built. This knowledge is not mere curiosity but a reflection of your station in life. For as you know, in our kingdom, a noble's worth is often judged by the strength of their guardian angel."
I shifted in my seat, stifling a yawn as I half-heartedly leaned forward. The professor's words were as dry as the parchment on which they were written—the celestial hierarchy this, The celestial hierarchy that... again.
"Today," Professor Varric continued, his voice a little more subtle, "we will study the divine orders, how they are arranged, and what they mean for us in this kingdom. Pay close attention, for the celestial hierarchy shapes not just your fate, but the fate of the kingdom itself."
I glanced around the room, my mind drifting. Angel rankings, bloodlines, divine favour—it was all so-
Professor Varric snapped his fingers, dragging me back to the present. The chalkboard behind him shimmered to life, and intricate drawings of angels, halos, and wings appeared in glowing lines. I let out a soft sigh, my eyelids heavy as the professor launched into his lecture with all the passion of someone reciting a well-rehearsed script.
"The celestial hierarchy consists of nine orders," he said, his voice rich with formality. "At the top are the Seraphim, the highest-ranking angels. These beings are of pure fire and divine intellect, and their presence is known to shake the very foundations of reality. Only the imperial family possesses Seraphim-ranked angels—beings that directly serve the throne itself."
I could hear the low hum of agreement from the class, but my thoughts were already slipping. The imperial family. Always the imperial family. The weight of their existence always seemed to hang in the air, heavy and unspoken.
"Below them," Professor Varric continued, "are the Cherubim. Known for their wisdom, these angels serve as protectors of sacred knowledge. Those who possess Cherubim are often tasked with leadership roles in diplomacy, governance, or academia."
I glanced over at Lucian, who sat with his usual calm, absorbing every word with intensity. His eyes narrowed slightly as if he were measuring the very air in the room. It was hard not to notice someone like him—his charisma practically oozed from every pore. I wondered, idly, if his family had a Cherubim. Of course, they probably did. After all, the Everhart dukedom had been synonymous with power for generations.
"Then we have the Thrones," the professor continued, "the angels of justice. These beings are said to be the embodiment of law and order, overseeing the balance between heaven and earth. They are granted to the most powerful families, those who are entrusted with the defence of the realm itself."
I suppressed a yawn, rubbing my eyes. The Thrones were impressive, yes, but the thought of them didn't hold my attention for long. It was the same power struggle, the same inherited influence. House Everheart, Ardea, Briallen, Undine … Lucian, Hestia, all of them playing the same game with slightly different rules.
But me?
The professor's voice became a distant hum as I allowed my mind to wander again, my thoughts adrift in the lull of the lecture. I wondered if the professor even noticed how many of us had stopped paying attention. The class had become a blur of names and titles, none of which seemed to affect me in the least. It was all just a system—a structure built on old bloodlines and celestial favour.
"Next," Professor Varric's voice cut through my thoughts once more, "are the Virtues, the angels of healing and guidance, and the Powers, warriors who guard the realms. Then we have the Principalities, the Archangels… and finally, the Angels themselves—the most common and widely seen guardians."
I didn't have that luxury.
There was a slight tension in the room as the professor's words settled in. The Angels were the most frequent, granted to most noble families, yet their lower rank meant that they were often overshadowed by those who had more powerful guardians. It was common knowledge that an angel's rank reflected both the family's status and their future prospects.
I half-listened as the lecture wound its way through the ranks of angels, something I was taught over and over when I was young. It wasn't hard to recognize the political game at play in this system, and though I had little interest in most of it, I knew more about the subject than anyone else.
I let my eyes wander back to Hestia, whose expression remained as arrogant as ever. She was barely hiding her disdain for the class. I could already imagine how she would talk about this later—about the importance of family, about the might of the Ardea line. Yet, she would always be a step behind the likes of Lucian, with his likely Cherubim.
There was a brief moment of silence as Professor Varric finished speaking. A few students jotted down notes, while others seemed to be drifting just as I had. I caught Lucian's gaze for a split second before he turned his attention back to the professor, his expression unreadable.
Professor Varric stepped away from the board and turned his gaze upon the class.
"Each of you is blessed with your own guardian angel, a reflection of your bloodline and your future. Remember, the angel you possess is a mark of your worth, your potential to rise or fall in the eyes of those around you. It is not simply an ally, but a living symbol of your family's power."
"Oh and what's supposed to be my worth when I don't even have a fucking guardian angel then?"