"What to do... I've finished all my chores, and now there's nothing left. Hmmm… maybe I should go outside, visit the city for a while. That's always nice."
She paused, her wings shifting slightly as a thoughtful expression crossed her face.
"I'm Nimfa, a 20-year-old angel. Yes, an angel. My mother is Yggdrasil itself—I was born from her branches, her essence flowing through me."
Her gaze drifted upward, as if searching for answers in the heavens.
"I've always wondered... why does my kin fight the demons so relentlessly? Why are they always filled with such anger toward them? The other angels tell me demons are evil, creatures born of darkness. They say we, beings of light, could never survive in their world."
She frowned, her steps slowing as she reached the edge of the city gates.
"But… is darkness truly evil? Is it wrong simply because no good can be found there? Or is it something else… something we don't understand?"
Nimfa's thoughts lingered as she stepped into the bustling streets, her heart heavy with unspoken questions.
The Celestial City shimmered under an eternal golden light. Its spires of crystalline glass pierced the endless blue sky, radiating divine energy that hummed softly in the air. As Nimfa walked along the alabaster pathways, her soft, silver-white wings furled neatly against her back, the serene beauty of her surroundings felt distant—like a painting she had admired a thousand times too many.
Angels bustled around her, their glowing forms exuding warmth and purpose. Some carried scrolls, their faces set with solemn determination as they delivered divine edicts across creation. Others practiced combat techniques in the training grounds, their blades of pure light cutting through the air with precision. The low murmur of celestial choirs echoed in the distance—a melody meant to inspire peace, though it now weighed heavily on Nimfa's heart.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice.
"Good morning, Nimfa!"
Startled, she turned to see an angel holding a scroll, his serene face radiating friendliness.
"Good morning," Nimfa replied warmly.
"Finished your chores already?" he asked with a smile.
"Yes, I completed them earlier," she said, returning his smile.
"Glad to hear that. Where are you off to now?"
"I thought I'd take a walk around the city," Nimfa replied, her expression bright and inviting.
The angel's tone grew serious. "Be careful not to wander too far, especially near the outskirts. Even with our city high above, demons sometimes find their way here. They are not to be underestimated."
Nimfa nodded, though her lingering question remained. Is darkness truly evil?
"Thank you for worrying about me," she said with a slight bow.
As she continued walking, her steps led her to the Fountain of Virtues, a serene place of reflection. The fountain's cascading waters shimmered with every color of the spectrum, carrying whispers of the Creator's design—a constant reminder of their purpose.
Kneeling by its edge, Nimfa dipped her fingers into the cool, silken flow. The water's whispers filled her mind with fragments of divine wisdom, but they did little to quiet her unease.
"Doubt is unbecoming of an angel," came a familiar voice.
Nimfa turned to see Seriel, a high seraphim and her mentor. His towering form radiated authority, his golden wings spread wide, creating an aura of dominance.
"I am not doubting, Seriel," she replied, rising gracefully to her feet. "I am reflecting."
Seriel's piercing gaze studied her, searching for cracks in her resolve. "Good. Reflection is necessary, but do not let it linger too long.
"Of course," she said with a slight bow.
Seriel nodded and strode away, his wings creating a gentle breeze that ruffled her hair.
As soon as he was out of sight, Nimfa exhaled a quiet breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Turning back to the fountain, she gazed into its shimmering waters. Her reflection stared back—a visage of light and perfection, yet one that felt increasingly foreign.
Nimfa: "Hmm... should I wander through the city again?"
The thought stirred her curiosity, and soon Nimfa found herself meandering through the celestial city's radiant streets. Her steps were light as she admired the familiar yet ever-enchanting surroundings. The soft hum of angelic choirs drifted through the air, blending harmoniously with the gentle rustling of leaves from the silver trees.
Her wandering came to an unexpected halt when she stumbled upon a grand structure—the Hall of Chronicles. Intrigued, she approached, her golden eyes widening as the intricate carvings on the library's towering doors shimmered in the sunlight.
Stepping inside, Nimfa gasped softly. It was breathtaking. The Hall's architecture seemed to transcend reality itself. Towering shelves spiraled upward endlessly, their golden frames glowing faintly in the ethereal light. The ceiling, if it existed at all, was lost in a swirling tapestry of celestial hues, as if the sky itself had become part of the library.
"Wow..." The word escaped her lips as she took a hesitant step forward, her voice barely above a whisper. "This is my first time inside a library. It's so beautiful."
She couldn't help but twirl in delight, her silver hair cascading like a shimmering waterfall as her dress flowed around her. Her gaze darted from one towering shelf to another, marveling at the sheer magnitude of knowledge contained within. Nimfa loved books with a passion—each one was a portal to a new adventure, a chance to lose herself in stories or learn about the world.
But in her moment of unbridled joy, she spun too quickly and lost her footing.
With a soft thud, she collided with another angel, causing a stack of books to tumble to the ground.
"Ack!" Nimfa yelped as she fell onto her bottom, wincing slightly as she rubbed her forehead.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" The other angel's voice was gentle yet concerned as she bent down, quickly setting the fallen books aside. She extended a hand toward Nimfa, her expression kind.
Nimfa reached for the offered hand, but her words of apology faltered as her eyes met the angel's. For a moment, she forgot the mild ache in her forehead.
The angel before her was unlike any she had seen. Her golden hair shimmered like strands of sunlight, and her eyes held a warm, radiant glow, as if they carried the light of dawn itself. Her silver wings, elegant and pristine, glimmered faintly, their beauty rivaling the moonlight.
Nimfa's voice caught in her throat. Her hand hovered in mid-air, trembling slightly, as if the angel's very presence had left her spellbound.
"Are you alright?" the angel asked again, her voice as soothing as a lullaby.
Pulled from her trance, Nimfa quickly took the angel's hand, her cheeks flushing faintly. "Y-Yes, I'm fine. I... I wasn't paying attention. I'm so sorry."
The angel smiled, her warmth easing Nimfa's embarrassment. "It's alright. The library can be overwhelming on a first visit. Take your time and enjoy its wonders."
As the angel turned to gather her books, Nimfa couldn't help but watch, her heart fluttering. She felt as though she had just witnessed a glimpse of perfection, a beauty that words alone could never capture.
As Nimfa gazed upon Morgana's radiant presence, she quickly bent down to help pick up the fallen books. Her hands trembled slightly as she gathered the leather-bound tomes, their ancient covers embossed with intricate golden patterns.
She stood and held out the books with a small, apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. My name is Nimfa," she said, her tone tinged with embarrassment.
Morgana's golden eyes lit up with recognition as she took the books. "Nimfa… the daughter of Yggdrasil?" Her voice carried both curiosity and reverence.
Nimfa blinked, slightly taken aback. "Oh, um, yes… that's me," she replied hesitantly, brushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear.
Morgana offered a warm smile that seemed to brighten the space around her. "I'm Morgana," she said, her voice soft yet confident. Her smile radiated a kindness that put Nimfa at ease.
"Why are you here in the library? What kind of book are you looking for?" Morgana asked, tilting her head slightly, her wings shifting gracefully as she waited for Nimfa's response.
Nimfa hesitated, glancing around at the grand shelves towering above them. "Well… I wasn't looking for anything specific," she admitted, her gaze drifting upward. "I just stumbled upon this place while wandering. But now that I'm here, I feel like I should find something… meaningful."
Morgana chuckled softly, a melodic sound that made Nimfa smile despite herself. "This library is full of meaning. Every book here holds a piece of our history, our struggles, and our triumphs. But…" Morgana's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Maybe I can help you find something that speaks to you."
Intrigued, Nimfa tilted her head. "You'd do that?"
Morgana nodded. "Of course. It's not every day I get to guide the daughter of Yggdrasil through the Hall of Chronicles." She gestured for Nimfa to follow, her movements as graceful as a dance.
As they walked through the labyrinth of towering shelves, Morgana spoke with a quiet passion. "This section holds records of the celestial wars. Here are the chronicles of ancient angelic leaders. And over there…" She pointed to a distant corner. "That's where you'll find the myths of the first angels."
Nimfa's eyes widened with wonder. "There's so much here… How do you even begin to decide what to read?"
Morgana paused, her expression softening. "You don't choose the book. The right book chooses you." She stopped by a shelf and ran her fingers lightly over the spines of the books, her golden eyes scanning them thoughtfully.
Suddenly, her hand rested on a particular volume. She pulled it free and handed it to Nimfa. The cover was embossed with a silver tree, its branches intertwining with golden stars.
"Here," Morgana said. "I think this one might be what you're looking for."
Nimfa accepted the book, her fingers tracing the intricate design on the cover. She felt an inexplicable warmth emanating from it, as though the book itself was alive. "Thank you, Morgana," she said softly, meeting the angel's kind gaze.
Morgana smiled once more. "Take your time with it. And if you ever need more guidance… I'll be around."
As Nimfa examined the book Morgana had handed her, her eyes fell upon the title embossed in silver letters: "The Origins of Demons." A flicker of curiosity and hesitation crossed her face. "Could this hold the answers I'm searching for?" she wondered, her thoughts returning to the question that had lingered in her heart: Why is darkness considered evil?
With a soft sigh, she glanced around the library, her gaze settling on a quiet corner where a single table bathed in the gentle glow of celestial light stood waiting. Making her way over, she placed the book carefully on the polished surface and sat down.