Chapter 24

What The War Brought

Some are lost in fire, others are forged in it.

Nine years later…

The May sun shone down on Heaven’s only courtyard, making the water in the small fountains gleam and glisten. In the middle stood a jasmine bush, its leaves were young and green, the flowers white as milk, the sweet and flowery scent wafted through the dry air. Four walls loomed high above the courtyard, casting great shadows, which were more than welcome for tired Angels on such a warm and sunny day.

While on break, Angels would come and sit on the benches carved from stone and imagine themselves being elsewhere, perhaps out in the countryside, listening to the bees humming and the birds singing. But Angels were bound to Heaven, they had lives to save and only one principal rule to follow.

Their hands were worn and used, blisters had formed on their palms. Their legs ached from standing all day. Their eyes were heavy from sleepless nights, hearts restless from what the war brought through Heaven’s doors. Angels were spared no mercy in their line of work, and unfortunately they were not praised enough; not by the civilians of Couronne, not even by the King himself.

Angels could not dwell on their misfortunes, in fact, they were not allowed to. Many sat in the courtyard in silence, keeping their thoughts and worries to themselves. There was no escaping the inevitable: They all knew they would have to return to the infirmary, some knew they would be sent to the frontline where the fighting was thickest (and many knew not all would make it back).

But it was a good day, thank the stars, because bombs had not rained down on Kingston. Heaven was a great building, indeed, but it would not be able to withstand the violent shakes and tremors. The walls would crumble, the windows would shatter, the Angels would be buried alive as the roof smothered them. Heaven would become an Angel’s grave.

The halls were empty and soundless, the only Angels left stationed in Heaven were in the infirmary treating the wounded. The Head Angels resided in their offices, going through reports and deciding which Angels should be sent to the frontline.

Archangel Solji, noticeable by her fiery red hair and large round glasses, stalked through the courtyard. The other Angels watched her and saw the fury blazing off her. Solji paced up the steps to the offices on the second floor. The hallway was cold and empty, devoid. Solji’s brow was set in a frown, her hands wrapped tightly around a clip file. She stalked towards the office at the end of the hall and opened the wooden door without knocking. 

«Oh?» Head Angel Yongsun, who had been sitting by her desk, reading reports, lifted her head. «Archangel Solji,» Yongsun said, surprised. She stood, then bowed. «I trust the meeting with the royal council went well?»

Solji’s hard frown softened, and she sighed, tired. She went over to the window and leaned against the sill, arms crossed over her chest. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, then stared at the ground.

«No need to get up, Head Angel Yongsun.» She said. «I have news.»

Yongsun sat back down, closed the report she had been reading and waited expectantly. It took a while for Solji to talk, she seemed deeply troubled and looked as if she was on the verge of crying. But then again, the war weighed heavily on all their shoulders, perhaps Archangels even more so. None of them had been able to sleep peacefully for five years since this new war had begun. They all hoped and prayed that it would soon come to an end.

«They say that the Land of Altair is using magic, they say that’s how Altairian aircrafts managed to slip past Couronne’s defences on the western mountain range.» Solji said at last. «If that’s true, then Couronne won’t be able to hold Ironsmith for much longer, it’ll eventually fall into Altairian hands. It also means that Avion, Kingston, even Port and Harbour City are in danger of being destroyed, if not destroyed, then occupied.»

«What did the council have to say to that?» Yongsun asked, concerned. She had heard whispers that the royal council was, for the most part, more worried about being occupied than the innocent lives that would be lost.

«Not much, they didn’t seem worried, only twiddled their thumbs. I feel the meetings are only held to make them feel important —a bunch of peacocks showing off their feathers. All they’re focused on is how to drive the Altairian forces back to Altair.» Solji was quiet again, eyes cast down.

Yongsun could see the frustration bubbling in Solji; she saw it in the tenseness of Solji’s jaw and her tightly clenched fists — so tight that Solji’s knuckles were white.

Ever since Yongsun had returned to Heaven five years ago, she had been Solji’s confidant, the only person Solji could trust with valuable information, sometimes even private matters. And when Yongsun was finally promoted to the rank of Head Angel, Solji often went to Yongsun for advice. Yongsun quickly learned how to read Solji’s body language, an important thing to know as Yongsun did not want to accidentally upset Solji further.

«Do you know what the King’s command was?» Solji whispered, her anger ever-present in her voice. Her hands gripped the windowsill so tightly that Yongsun thought the wood would splinter.

«He commanded that more soldiers be sent to the west, to Ironsmith and Avion. He wants more Angels on the field. He wants to use charms and spells, not for healing, but as tools to win the war —he wants to use magic as a weapon, just like the Land of Altair.»

«He wants to send more Angels to the frontline?» Yongsun muttered, processing the words. Then she stood, sending the chair flying back against the wall. «He’s mad! All of the older and experienced Angels have been deployed, we only have trainees left! Sending them out now would mean we’re sending them to their graves!» She roared.

«That’s what I tried to tell the council, that’s what I told the King.»

«And?» Yongsun breathed, voice rasp from anger. «None of them would listen to you?»

«They don’t want to send the trainees in alone, they want to send the remaining Head Angels and Archangels.» Solji whispered. «They want to deploy us all. The ones working on the east coast, the ones in the south and the small villages out on the Plateau —the King wants to send us all to the west, to Ironsmith.»

The room suddenly felt cold. Yongsun was numb, her hands were shaking, lip quivering. She had not felt such fear and sadness in a long while.

«Lives will be lost, including the lives of our own. There is nothing I can do to stop it, nothing I can do to convince the King to pull back all of the Angels, to pull back all of the Couronnian soldiers, to hoist a white flag and admit defeat.»

«When do you think the order will come?» Yongsun breathed.

The room was spinning, the walls closing in on Yongsun. She sat back down in the chair, her head had started throbbing.

«I don’t know yet. But be prepared, no matter what happens we cannot escape the King’s command.» 

Solji pushed herself away from the windowsill. She looked tired, worn out, but she was needed elsewhere, and she had to inform the other Head Angels of the news. She went to Yongsun and gently held her shaking hand, rubbing soothing circles on the back of Yongsun’s hand.

«What should I do?» Yongsun asked, gazing up at Solji, eyes wide. «What am I to tell all the trainees that I am mentoring?» Her voice was small and filled with worry. «That they are doomed to die?»

«The truth, Yongsun, the truth is always the right thing to say.»

Solji left, and the room fell silent. Yongsun sat in her chair, deep in thought. Her mind wandered back and forth, searching for the words that could capture the tragedy that was about to befall Heaven.

What was she to tell the trainees?

But the war was persistent, overwhelming to the point where Yongsun found it difficult to breathe. War was something Yongsun could not escape, it burned in the back of her mind, blazing brighter over time.

After so many years spent in Port City with Moonbyul, Yongsun reckoned that running away was the same as chasing the sun, for no matter how fast one ran, the sun would always be out of reach but oh! how it burned when one got too close.

The years spent in Port City with Moonbyul and Moonbyul’s family brought Yongsun small amount of clarity, scattered carefully over the span of four years. It was enough to bring her a moment’s peace. It gave her time to mourn and to move on. She was determined not to let herself get caught in the past’s trap, for if the past caught her again, it would latch onto her like it had before, yanking her down whenever she tried to stand, catching her tears only to force them down .

It was during the first year that Yongsun saw Moonbyul in her darkest time. The death of their beloved friend had struck them both, like daggers to the heart. Moonbyul grieved and mourned, refusing to let go. In the first few days she did not eat. She became a ghost and Yongsun could not reach nor touch her. When Moonbyul finally arrived home, she fell into her mother’s arms. Yongsun could only stare as Moonbyul silently wept, clinging to her mother. There was nowhere for Moonbyul to run, and Yongsun’s heart broke a little. Yongsun herself wanted to run, but she decided to stay because she had made Heeyeon a promise, and Yongsun was determined to honour that promise.

The first year went by slowly, and Yongsun glimpsed the sad truth in Moonbyul, one she had glimpsed within herself a few years before. After the second year, Yongsun finally understood, with certainty, what love was. She understood what Hyojin, the soldier she had treated back in Kingston, told her about love, she understood what Heeyeon meant when she had told Yongsun to stick with Moonbyul.

During the third year, Moonbyul often left the cottage that her family lived in, and went to the moors above the coast to sit alone and watch the sun rise above the wide ocean. She would always return before noon with a small basket of wild blueberries that she knew Yongsun enjoyed.

They would sit in the back of the house and eat the wild blueberries till their tongues and hands turned purple, and Moonbyul’s mother would fuss saying how difficult it was to get the stains out. They never took a dingy out to sea, because Moonbyul was scared of the deep ocean. They never went to the tall cliffs where the waves crashed below, because Moonbyul was terribly afraid of heights. But they both liked the back garden, so they sat there and ate their blueberries in peace. And that suited them just fine.

Yongsun liked to think that Moonbyul picked the plumpest, juiciest and sweetest berries just for her. But Yongsun knew that Moonbyul was far sweeter than any berry. It was then that Yongsun understood their predicament a bit better.

She wanted the blueberries, she wanted the back garden, she wanted what Moonbyul wanted: To be done with Destiny so that they could be f