Chapter 1 ┊ Maurice & Opal
The old man who found me that day was named Maurice.
I spent a good while explaining my story to him. The sun had fully set by the time I was done. I told him about Heaven. About the books I’d read. About the summoning letter. And lastly, my promotion to Archangel followed by immediate “field study” assignment.
He listened to the entire thing in silence. And when I finished, he stared at me. Then my wings. Then back at me.
Without a word, he turned around and jerked his chin in the direction of the road towards a small cottage.
It was quaint, and the cobblestone path to it was so uneven, I nearly tripped 3 times on my way.
My new heels were very impractical for my new environment.
The walls were built of white brick, though years of weather had faded it into a warm, yellowed cream. A thatched roof sat neatly atop, brushed through and well-maintained by the owners. And above the entrance was a small lantern, threaded through thin and curling twigs that had begun to grow itself around not just the metal frame, but the entire cottage.
With the help of the flickering candle light, I could barely make out that the door, window frames, and even shutters were painted a sage green. They were slight chipped away by the elements, allowing the natural dark oak to peek through.
The door groaned as Maurice pushed it open.
Immediately, the smell of baked goods enveloped me. Cinnamon, vanilla, and something buttery.
I didn’t have grandparents, but I’d always imagine their house to smell like that if I were to.
Maurice gestured for me to come in and secured the door latch behind me.
The interior of the cottage was small, but not cramped. A modest sitting room took up most of the space. With a worn wooden table as the center, surrounded by an old sofa and cushioned arm chair. Both seats’ fabrics were faded from years of use, and the latter had a knitted blanket tossed haphazardly over the back.
A stone fireplace took up most of the far wall, burned down to a gentle glow that cast flickering shadows across the room.
It then hit me how much warmer it was inside the cottage.
“I’m home,” Maurice called out as he took a seat on the entry bench to unlace his boots. I was about to ask who he was talking to when a soft, melodic voice spoke up.
“Welcome back, love- Hm?”
I whipped my head up, spotting a woman poking her head around the corner.
Strange, I didn’t even hear her approaching.
She was small, with a plump figure that was almost swallowed by the lavender apron she wore over her navy dress. Her silver hair had been pulled back into a loose braid, though several strands escaped, spilling through her headscarf.
I later learned her name was Opal.
Her eyes were the first thing I noticed. A striking gold, pupils almost unnatural narrow as she shifted her attention to me.
“Are you hungry?” She suddenly smiled.
I blinked.
Was I? I had never eaten anything before. But the scent of something warm wafting from further within the cottage tickled at my stomach. I couldn’t help but swallow hard.
“… A little.”
Wiping her hands on her apron, she placed a hand on my shoulder and began guiding me towards what I could only assume to be the kitchen.
“Come along, then. I just got the apple pie out of the oven.”
I glanced at Maurice who had gone back to untying his boots.
So I went along.
The kitchen and dining room were tucked around the corner, separated from the sitting room by a carved wooden archway. Opal sat me down at the dining table—a little breakfast nook beneath a window, the wooden table covered in faint scratches and food stains.
She then hurried up the two steps into the kitchen, where copper pots and pans hung from hooks along the walls. Shelves lined the opposite wall, crowded with jars of flour, sugar, dried herbs, and spices, each one labelled with a little tag tied around its neck with a bit of twine.
“Just let me cut this up, sweetie,” she said.
Maurice soon joined me, pulling out a seat at the breakfast nook. He had also since removed his leather gloves, and I noticed how his hands too were covered in scars and cuts.
He reached for a jug of water and poured two glasses, handing one to me.
“Thank you…” I murmured.
He nodded.
Before I could take a sip, Opal returned carrying two plates. Each had a generous slice of apple pie, still warm enough that I could see the steam gently curling from the filling.
She placed one in front of each of us.
“There we go.”
She pulled out the seat beside Maurice, placing me between the two of them on the bench against the window. After wiping her hands on her apron once more, she looked at me expectantly.
I looked down at the pie.
Then at her.
“Go on. Don’t worry about me. I already had my fill with the leftover ingredients.”
Maurice was already inhaling his dessert.
Strange.
I didn’t think a scarred, rough, and gruff man like him would be a fan of sweets. I could’ve easily pictured him crossing his arms and saying something along the lines of ‘I don’t eat this stuff.’
Yet there he was.
I picked up the fork, awkwardly cut into the pie, and took a bite.
The crust was warm and buttery, with a slight crunch as I bit through it. The filling was soft and sweet, with the tartness of the apples cutting through the sugar. There was a hint of something else too. I could only imagine that’s what cinnamon tasted like.
“So, sweetie…”
Opal began.
“What happened to you? You look absolutely raggad.”
“I found ‘er out by the Tollen Woods, in that giant meadow.” Maurice said, wiping his mouth. “Saw her fall right outta the sky.”
Was he already done?
“The sky…?” Opal’s brows furrowed.
“Yeah. I’m an angel,” I said as I took another bite. “And well, it’s a long story but I got thrown out of Heaven… I think.”
The woman shared a look with her husband, neither of them said a word.
“Look, I know it sounds weird.”
“Weird is one way to put it,” Maurice muttered.
“Oh, sweetheart." Opal’s brows furrowed. "Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell?”
I stopped.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“As in…” She stopped herself, eyeing Maurice who left to grab another slice of pie from the kitchen. “Do you remember where you lived before?”
“I just told you. Heaven.”
“And your family?”
“We don’t have any.”
Opal’s expression tightened.
“I think it’s memory loss.” Maurice said as he sat back down.
Opal hummed. “It’s possible.”
“What?” I stared at them. “I haven’t lost my memories.”
“Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought,” Opal offered. “Or perhaps whatever happened to you caused you to forget everything before it.”
“But I remember Heaven. I was just there,” I reasoned. “And the Overseer. And being put on sabbatical leave. And my books, and the dreams…”
Neither of them said anything. They simply watched me with a certain look in their eyes I couldn’t quite discern.
Pity, perhaps?
My hand went slack on the table.
“Do you think I’m crazy?”
Opal quickly shook her head, nudging her husband when Maurice began to shrug.
“Not at all, sweetie.” She spoke. “It’s just that sometimes… memories can be a strange thing. You could think you saw, or remember something. Only for it to be very wrong, for one reason or another.”
“I don't get it. What's so hard to believe? Are angels not a thing in this world?”
“Oh, dear. Celestials aren’t real.”
“Only some Archmage whacks at the Royal Academy believe ‘em.”
I pressed my lips together.
In other words, they didn’t believe me. And I did look crazy.
But I couldn’t exactly prove them wrong either. I couldn’t even figure out how to fly, much less how to use my newfound powers as the Archangel of Delusion.
So I just sank into the bench, eyes downcast.
“So then, what exactly are you?” Maurice mused.
“I’m an angel,” I grumbled.
“I’ve never seen wings like those before. Could she be an Avian?”
“No, they’re a lot taller than that.”
“A draconic then?”
“Like I said, I’m an angel.”
“Draconics have scaly skin.” Maurice shook his head. “Could be a beastfolk, but she doesn’t have those beast-features they’re famous for. And those… things.” He gestured behind his ears, presumably talking about my head wings. “I’ve never seen anything like ‘em.”
“What about a Valelith then? I hear there have been survivors up in Northern Ambeor.”
“No, those folks have wings made of scales.”
I tried to flex my feathery white wings to make a point. But as usual, they refused to listen to me.
Much like the two before me.
Maybe she caught a glimpse of my pout, or maybe she just felt sorry for me. After all, Opal did seem like the type of character to have an almost supernatural maternal instinct.
Either way, she clapped her hands together.
“Well, whatever you are, sweetie. You are clearly not in any condition to be wandering around by yourself.”
Though he raised a scarred brow, Maurice huffed out a smile.
“Knew you’d say that.”
I frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
“Until you figure out what you’re going to do next, you could stay with us. You don’t have anywhere to go, do you? And you mentioned, erm… not having any family?”
“I guess.”
Opal stood and began gathering the remaining dishes.
“Then until you figure things out, you’re welcome to stay here.”
“Like… live here?”
“What else?”
I glanced at Maurice.
“We have a spare room down the hall. It ain’t being used.”
I suppose that should’ve been expected. Given the way they’ve acted so far, they easily fit into the kind, adoptive parent archetype.
A shame those usually died in stories though.
“Thanks.”
Still didn’t appreciate the doubt against my status as an angel though.
“It’s settled then,” Opal smiled. “Maurice, dear. Could you show her to her room?”
“Sure.”
Maurice stood and rolled his shoulders back a little.
“Come on.”
I followed him out of the kitchen and down a narrow hallway.
It seemed the sitting room, kitchen, and dining room took up most of the cottage. Because the further back we went the narrower everything grew. There were only a handful of doors along the walls. At the very end of the hall, Maurice stopped in front of a plain wooden door.
“Here.”
He opened the door, and inside was a small bedroom with a single bed and night stand tucked against the wall. On the opposite side of the room, there was a dark oak desk and a large arched glass door, accented with a golden frame and detailing. It looked out into the garden, a field of various fruits and vegetables stretched out into the velvety darkness. There were strawberry bushes, pumpkin patches, trellises of blueberries, and probably more I couldn’t see in the night.
“Once you settle in, you can help out back there,” Maurice said.
“What?!”
They didn’t expect me, an angel, to work in the fields. Did they?
“Those who do not work, shall not eat. That’s what my Pa used to tell me.”
“I technically don’t even need to eat," I grumbled under my breath.
“Sure ate up Opal’s pie though.”
I didn’t have an argument for that.
Taking my lack of response as compliance, Maurice nodded.
“You can use the drawer under yer’ bed for clothes, though you don’t seem like you have much with you.” He eyed me. “Might wanna clean it out first though.”
He stepped back into the hallway.
“I’ll let'cha get settled in. Make sure to blow out the candle before you head to bed. Don’t want’cha starting a fire.”
“Thanks…”
Bold of him to assume I needed to sleep at all.
The door closed with a light click, and I was left to my own devices in my new room.
It was a lot smaller than my office at the Sanctum of Celestial Concord. The ceilings were lower and there was only one real window. But I supposed it would do for now.
I sat down on the mattress and it creaked beneath my weight.
I flopped backwards, sprawling myself out and staring at the ceiling.
Maybe tomorrow I'd figure out how to get back.
Or how to fly.
Preferably both.
I was just beginning to wonder whether mortal beds were always this stiff when I heard voices coming from the other side of the door.
“…my guess is some kinda bastard kid.” It sounded vaguely like Maurice.
I sat up and stayed very still, lest the sound of my skirt rustling alert them.
“A bastard?” Opal was a lot harder to hear.
“You know how them rich folks are. ‘specially when they’re young. They do dumb shit then regret it later. She’s probably some half-breed between a human and an Avian.”
“Could be... But I keep thinking about her clothes.”
There was a pause.
“What about ‘em?"
“They’re too fine for someone from a village. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it in all of Lumeria.”
I looked down at my dress.
At the golden accents, and flowy, almost iridescent chiffon.
Well, they weren’t wrong about that.
“Could she be from a noble family?” Opal suggested.
“A fallen one, maybe.” Maurice hummed. “Would explain the clothes, and… the attitude.”
“Her attitude? What about it?”
“Just seems like the type of kid who’s all full of ‘erself.”
“It takes one to know one, darling.”
Maurice hummed.
“My guess is the shock of losing her house and status made her go insane and lose her memories. She was probably running away from people still after what’s left of her family fortunes when she fell from the sky.”
“Oh, my… Poor girl.”
I made a face.
I was an angel.
A perfectly sane angel, recently promoted Archangel, at that.
One who just so happened to have terrible luck with my first day, and ended up here.
That was all.
Outside my room, Opal's voice softened.
“Whatever happened, she's safe now.”
Maurice grunted.
“Yeah. That's what matters.”
And that’s how I ended up here.
In a small cottage on the edge of a village named Rivercross, within the Kingdom of Lumeria.
It’s been about a month since I’ve arrived in this world.
Thirty-three days, to be exact.
I knew because I’d been counting.
For the first few days, I was convinced the Overseer would come back for me. Surely, this was some sort of test, I thought. Perhaps even a prank, no matter how poor in taste it was.
But when a week passed without so much as a feather from Heaven, it finally began to sink in.
I was on Sabbatical Leave.
Whatever that meant.
So far, I’ve spent my days tending to the fields at the request of Maurice and Opal. Though my heels rarely did me any good, given how soft the soil was. Opal suggested I took them off, but I refused.
I didn’t have any other shoes, and I frankly had no desire for them. If it were up to me, it was field labor that would go. Rather than my shoe.
But as Maurice said, those who do not work shall not eat.
I still didn’t need to eat. I figured that part out.
But it was hard to resist the temptation of the food Opal would bake, even if we only got the leftovers from the things she sold to the people in the village.
Besides, it gave me something to do besides flying practice, which was admittedly going pretty poorly.
I had lost count of how many trees I’d jumped from trying to learn how to work my new wings. The fact that I couldn’t die was almost laughing in my face, especially considering how painful some of those falls were.
At this point, I was beginning to wonder if I needed to throw myself off a cliff.
That was how the books described teaching a baby bird to fly, after all.
… I don’t think I was mentally prepared for that just yet. Especially given I hadn’t actually seen a baby bird learn to fly.
“Astra… I’m bored.”
Oh, and that thing.
There was one small change that occurred in my new life.
And that was the little creature sitting beside me, in the shade of the large tree behind the cottage field.
During my first few days helping Maurice and Opal with the fields, I’d been tasked with harvesting some of the vegetables. It seemed simple enough. Pull the plant from the ground, remove the dirt, put it in the basket.
The first thing I reached for was a bulb of onion.
I grabbed the stem and pulled, only for a brief flash of light to fill the air.
For a moment, I thought I was finally being brought back to Heaven. The light vaguely reminded me of the magic the Overseer had used to transport me from the Concord to Lumeria.
Alas, when the light faded, I was still sitting in the dirt.
And in front of me was a small onion-shaped creature with tiny wings and a flower sprouting from its head.
I stared at it.
It stared back at me.
Neither of us said anything for several seconds.
Then it sneezed.
I screamed.
It screamed.
I wasn’t allowed to harvest anything after that.
I later learned that the creature’s name was Orion. As for its species, neither Maurice nor Opal had an explanation.
I had tried to use his existence as proof that I was an angel and not an Avian, but they pointed out that several Mages in the Capital and the Royal Academy could summon strange creatures to act as their familiars.
I didn’t think Orion was a familiar though.
Familiars actually listened to their owners.
“Astra,” Orion whined again.
“What?”
He was lying face-down in the grass, his little wings fluttering impatiently.
“I’m bored.”
“Go find something to do yourself, then.”
“I found like ten sticks already. And I’m not a dog.”
He rolled his entire body around to stare at me. Sometimes I wondered if he would roll all the way down the hill if his wings didn’t stop him.
“Then go collect leaves or something. I’m trying to practice moving my wings.”
He was quiet for a moment.
Then:
“You know that’s not gonna work.”
“Easy for you to say. Your wings are so much smaller and easier to control. Back when I had wings your size, I was the number one flier in all of Heaven.”
Orion sat up with a smirk.
Then, as if to taunt me, he fluttered his wings and did a loop around my head.
“I think that’s just because you’re bad at this.”
I shot him a glare.
Then I stood up.
“Astra?”
“I’m going inside,” I told him.
“Why?”
“I just don’t feel like practicing anymore.”
The cottage was quiet when we stepped inside, and we found Opal in the kitchen, kneading dough on the counter.
She looked up when she heard us. I’d noticed she had remarkably good hearing.
I thought mortal hearing was supposed to worsen with age.
“Finished with the fields already?”
I nodded. I’d spent the entire morning tilling and watering the fields, and I was ready for a change of pace.
“Do you have any books, Opal?”
Opal laughed. “Oh, heavens no. It’s too late for an old sack of bones like me to learn how to read.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t know how to?” I blurted out.
“Of course not, sweetie. Learning to read costs so much coin, I—” She stopped herself mid-sentence and stared at me.
“Astra…” she began gingerly. “You know how to read?”
I suddenly realized Lumeria must’ve been one of those worlds where reading wasn’t as common of a skill. Only those with money or of nobility had the privilege to learn how to. And as a small-time baker living in a border village, Opal had neither.
I glanced at Orion who shrugged.
“I’m an onion,” he said, “I can’t read either.”
I could practically see the gears turning in Opal’s head. And her theory about me being a fallen noble woman strengthening in real time.
“I’m guessing you don’t have any?” I cleared my throat.
She shook her head.
“Sorry, sweetie. Neither Maurice nor I are much of a reader.” She added some flour to the counter as she continued to knead her dough. “But there is one place in the village you could try.”
My attention perked up.
“Where?”
“The Willows and Wheel’s,” she said in a sing-song voice.
“The what?”
“The Willows and Wheel’s General Store, my dear. It’s a little shop in the village square. They sell books among many other things. It’s where Maurice and I get our seeds and groceries.”
I was already half way out the door.
“Where is it?”
Opal snorted.
“Slow down. The store ain’t going anywhere.” She placed one hand on her hips and pointed straight with the other. “Just follow the main road into the village. You can’t miss it. There’s a wooden sign with a wheel and a willow tree hanging outside.”
“Got it.” For the first time in a month, I left the cottage through the front door on my own accord. “Come on, Orion!”
“Wha-? Wait, coming!”
“Wait!” I could hear Opal calling after me. “Remember to be back by sundown!”
Maurice and Opal lived on the edge of the village, just shy of the Tollen Woods. So it was a bit of a trek into the village. Every few steps, my heel would sink into the packed dirt or get caught in a stray pebble.
I frowned.
Why did mortals make their roads like this? Surely, there had to be a better way.
“This is horrible.” I mumbled, carefully stepping over another particularly large stone.
“Maybe Opal is right,” Orion said, “you should get some new shoes. And maybe some new clothes while you’re at it.”
I eyed him.
“Why would I need new clothes?”
“As pretty as it is, it physically hurts to watch you do farm work in that dress.”
There was already doubt being cast upon my Archangel status. I wasn’t going to make it any worse for myself by dressing up like a mortal. Much less for a field study that would last who knows how long.
“Who cares? It’s just temporary anyways.”
Orion shook his head. Or I suppose in his case, his entire bulbous body.
“Suit yourself, I guess.”
The closer we got to the village, the more people we began to pass. And much like the mortal world I used to visit, the people of Lumeria came in all different shapes and sizes. Though I couldn’t help but notice that the differences were a lot more apparent here.
A woman with a lizard head.
A man with a horse body.
Another man with an ox’s head.
Two children with horns.
I was told Lumeria was a predominantly human kingdom, so it was surprising to see so many other species out and about, mixed into the general population.
And yet, despite all the strange-looking people around us, I found myself being the one stared at.
Some people cast quick glances in my direction before quickly looking away, while others openly watched me with wide, curious eyes. Even passing carriage drivers would occasionally shoot me a weird look or two.
“Why is everyone staring at us?” Orion whispered, inching closer to me.
“Because you’re a flying onion, what else?”
“Me? I think they’re staring at you, Astra. You and your fat wings.”
Despite knowing that the vast majority of them considered celestials to be nothing more than a myth, I chose to believe that they were simply in awe of my presence.
As we approached the centre of the village, I noticed the road becoming gradually less rocky. The packed dirt gave way to uneven cobblestone streets, and the houses grew clustered together.
Most of the buildings were made of wood, built upon a stone foundation and topped with sloping thatched roofs, much like the cottage. Some had little signs hanging outside, jutting out over the street so they could be easily read. I recognized a few, like the tailor and a small apothecary. But there were others whose purpose I couldn’t immediately figure out.
Some people chose to set up shop on the streets, calling out to passersby from either their cloth blanket or wagon. Their voices blended together, accented by the occasional morning greetings or the sound of hooves clopping against the cobble.
There was a bit of everything. Prepared food, fresh produce, random trinkets, artisanal goods, and other bits and bobbles I could easily see a starry-eyed hero getting enchanted over. A noticeable lack of books though.
Eventually, we reached the village square. At least, I assumed it was, given the small fountain at the center of an open space. There was a blacksmith sitting on one corner. I didn’t even need to read the sign. The rhythmic hammering of metal made it abundantly clear.
“Over there!” I followed Orion’s direction, turning to face the shop directly opposite of the blacksmith.
There, hanging above a shop with large windows, was a wooden sign painted with a willow tree and a wheel.
“Perfect.”
I hurried over, the sound of a crisp bell echoing the moment I opened the door. Orion flew in first, and I was just about to follow when I felt a tight squeeze against my wings.
I blinked.
“Huh?”
I shifted a little, trying to drag myself through to no avail.
Noticing my absence, Orion peered over his shoulder.
“Astra?”
“I’m fine.”
I pushed forward again.
I lied. I wasn’t fine.
“Are you stuck?”
I could hear the snickering in Orion’s voice and glared at him.
“Don’t just float there. Come help me,” I demanded.
“Okay, okay.” He flew around behind me. “Move your left wing.”
“You think I wouldn’t if I could?”
“I was kidding when I called your wings fat earlier.” I could hear Orion straining as he tried to push me through the doorway. Though I wondered how hard he was really trying, especially with all the laughter. “Try to bring them in or something.”
I engaged my back muscles again, trying to pull my wings closer to my body. But they only squeezed tighter against the door frame.
I was pretty sure I was flexing them instead.
“Great. I’m stuck here for the rest of my life.”
Worst of all, I could hear movement inside the store.
There was the sound of a door closing, followed by approaching footsteps.
“Good afternoon. Welcome to the Willows and Wheel’s, how can I—”
A young woman with long brown hair rounded the corner. Her hands frozen mid-motion of tying her hair when she noticed my predicament.
“Oh my goodness!”
I didn’t even want to imagine what things looked like from her perspective.
“A little help here?” I reached out my hands.
“Oh! Yes, of course!” After the initial shock subsided, she hurried over and took both my hands in hers.
They were warm.
“On three,” she said. “One, two… Three!”
The woman pulled.
Orion pushed.
With the added help, I felt myself gradually sliding forward until I eventually stumbled free of the doorframe. The sudden shift in gravity, however, didn’t help, as I fell straight into the shopkeeper, taking her down with me.
“Are you two okay?” Orion asked, hovering above us.
“I’m fine.” I groaned, rubbing my head. Nothing could’ve been worse than my initial landing in Lumeria.
“I’m okay as well.” The woman gave an embarrassed smile. “My apologies for the door. We had it custom made to accommodate taller clients such as elves and orcs. But it isn’t often we have customers who are wider.”
Orion did his best to surpress a laugh, but failed.
“It’s fine.” I shot him a glare. “I’ll just… walk sideways next time.”
“No, no. I’ll talk to my brother. Oh, but where are my manners?”
She quickly stood and dusted off her green and white dress. Now that she was fully illuminated by the light pouring through the store’s large windows, I noticed just how pretty she was. She had striking blue eyes that glistened like gems, and chai-brown hair that she kept mostly tied-up. Although a few loose strands fell free, framing her delicate, almost doll-like features with an almost effortless softness.
I couldn’t help but wonder if she was what the heroines in my romance novels looked like.
“I haven’t seen either of you around here before.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she reached a hand out to help me up. The sunlight glowing behind her almost formed a halo of sort.
“My name is Lilianne. Welcome to the Willows and Wheel’s.”
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