Alistair taught Tristan how to conceal his wings with ease.
Once the wings disappeared, Tristan stepped off the bed and stretched his arms. His face was bright and open like the morning sun. Alistair thought that this angel was more suited for the name, Morning Star, Son of the Dawn.
That name was once his pride as the most exalted and most beautiful among the angels.
Now, it was a name he wished to forget along with heaven.
Or perhaps, give it to the angel who was standing in his bedroom, tilting his head with obvious discomfort. However, before he could ask what he could do to help, the angel spoke up.
"I smell weird," Tristan said, lifting the sleeve of his white shirt to his wrinkled nose. "It smells like the opposite of the garden."
Alistair frowned as he watched Tristan. "The garden?"
"The place I used to live before falling," The answer was offered easily.
Alistair understood that Tristan was not hiding his identity despite its mysteries. Rather, he did not know that his existence was a little strange, or he chose to ignore it. If he asked the right questions, he would understand everything.
But there was no rush.
"You can take a shower or a bath," Alistair offered, wondering if Tristan knew about showers and baths.
Angels with divine light did not need to bathe because heaven was perfection, free from dirt and filth. They did not sweat and could cleanse themselves with the light if they felt unclean in any way.
Still, a lot of angels picked up human habits like bathing as a meditative or relaxation practice. However, after the short interaction with Tristan, he could see that he did not have basic angelic knowledge.
"I love baths," Tristan's eyes turned impossibly brighter.
Alistair was surprised by the response. "Is that so?"
"Mmmh," Tristan nodded with nostalgia. "Tending to the garden was tiring, so I liked taking a bath in the river during my rest."
Alistair thought of something, and his lips twitched. He could not believe his own thoughts because of the casual tone Tristan was using. But when he thought about how peculiar Tristan was, he could not just let it go.
"Are you talking about the Garden of Life?" Alistair asked.
"Yes! That's what He called it." Tristan nodded vigorously.
"So, you were taking baths in the River of the Water of Life?" Alistair asked.
Tristan frowned. "I guess so. It was the only water I had."
"Did you also live off the fruits from the tree of life?" Alistair was amused and asked the question with a teasing tone.
Tristan scoffed as he thought about his former home. "Those two trees were so problematic. No matter what I did, they only produced one fruit every thirty days."
Alistair was speechless.
The Garden of Life was not a place that most people could step into casually. He had the privilege of visiting the garden in the past before humanity messed things up. He had seen the river and picked fruit from the tree.
It was a magical place, to say the least.
While it could not create life, it could sustain it.
Angels did not care much about the garden in the past and thought He was protective of it because he liked it. After all, angels did not need the sustenance of the water or the fruits to gain a long life.
However, when humans were created and committed the original sin of consuming from the Tree of Knowledge despite the guidance of angels and a clear understanding of the consequences, the angels understood that the garden was special.
If a human drank the water or ate the fruit, they would gain immortality.
After the original sin, all angels lost the right to enter the garden, even the privileged ones who could enter there with his permission. Alistair had already fallen with his followers, but he got the news through the next wave of the fallen.
It seemed that after the original sin, He realised that human nature was not driven by making the right choices as He hoped. Moreover, after consuming fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, they would try to gain more power and might even try to conquer heaven.
If this happened, it would pervert the place he made to allow choice without the interference of divinity.
Because of that, He changed the location of the Garden of Life, hiding it from all eyes but his own. Rumour had it that He also placed a cherubim, one of his most powerful soldiers, at the gate and a living flaming sword behind the cherubim.
Therefore, no one could enter the garden.
Of course, Alistair did not believe the stories to be the whole truth. Most of the information passed around heaven and earth about Him was the imagination and ramblings of the other creatures.
After all, no one could even see His true face without death because of the pure divine power of his presence.
However, Alistair realised that not everything involving the garden was a lie.
When he thought about it, the entry into the garden was restricted a little while before he fell. Angels did not think of time like humans. Their thoughts were beyond time because they were immortal.
However, Alistair had come to understand chronology after staying on Earth, making him realise there was a secret that made Him lock the garden. Angels did not think much of it because most were not allowed to enter anyway.
Those who could visit only went there occasionally with His permission for the ambience.
Now, Alistair wondered if He locked the garden because he was hiding a secret in the form of a pretty angel with golden hair and eyes filled with stars. His eyes sharpened at the thought, turning a more dangerous grey.
Just like Alistair had come to realise during his time on earth, He was not as good and perfect as He wanted others to believe. Otherwise, He would not have hidden this mysterious angel, away from others.
"I wonder if I can use the light to get rid of the stench," Tristan spoke up before taking a deep breath.
A soft glow of golden light encompassed him. The dirt from the forest floor and the blood disappeared, and the damaged clothes were restored. Tristan turned to look at Alistair triumphantly.
The dangerous eyes turned a little gentler.
"I can also cleanse you," Tristan said.
Before Alistair could stop him, Tristan sent a wave of his light and covered Alistair before withdrawing it. The lingering blood on his clothes and skin disappeared, although the damage remained since the clothes were made of ordinary material.
Alistair stood abruptly and left the bedroom.