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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Fairy Tales & Fantasy
- Subject: Love / Romance / Dating
- Published: 10/31/2024
Divine Destiny - Part Four
Born 1978, F, from Fort Worth, Texas, United States2004—Kissara Firecrest is twenty-six and life had taken her in an unexpected direction. She works at a local law office as a receptionist, a job that pas the bills but does little to stir her soul. Her once shoulder-length, dark brown hair had been cut into a neat, chin-length bob, and she’d noticed with a strange sense of loss that the fiery gold shimmer in her hair—the mark of her celestial heritage—had faded. Yet, even as the visible traces of her Pyrae lineage diminished, her otherworldly abilities had become stronger. She could hear the thoughts of others, sometimes from across the room, other times from far away. Glimpses of the future came to her in dreams and in fleeting moments during the day. And the emotions—she could feel them so deeply. Sometimes they were overwhelming, especially when she absorbed the pain and sorrow of others.
It was a Saturday afternoon. Kissara had just returned from a day of shopping with her two best friends, Nina and Roxanne. The bags sat on her bed, filled with clothes and small indulgences, but her mind was elsewhere. As she finished putting away her new purchases, she turned to her desk and powered up her computer, waiting for it to hum to life. As the familiar start-up screen blinked into view, an old dream came back to her—the dream from her eighteenth birthday.
The man with the long, stark white hair and ethereal armor had been so vivid. Even now, six years later, she could still recall the exact shade of his sparkling blue eyes, the warmth of his smile, and the strange familiarity in his gaze. Who was he? Why had he appeared to her? She had never seen him before, yet something in her heart told her he was important. Hector and Evan, her father’s closest friends and her mentors in navigating her celestial abilities, had taught her much about the Angyprx and the Pyrae. She knew how rare her kind was, how unusual it was for a Pyrae to be fathered by an Angyprx, as she had been. And yet, something still gnawed at her—a question she had long kept hidden, even from herself.
Why had God arranged for her to be born this way? What was His plan? Kissara often wondered, but instinctively, she knew it wasn’t time to ask. There were answers she wasn’t ready to receive.
With the computer now booted, Kissara busied herself checking emails and browsing the internet. It wasn’t long before she found herself drifting back into thought. An idea that had been prodding at her all week returned. It was silly, but she couldn’t shake it—the idea: Writing a letter to her husband. She wasn’t married. She didn’t even have a boyfriend. Dating in Fire Point had been difficult, to say the least. It was a small, quirky town, but even among its eccentric inhabitants, Kissara was just a little too different. She loved astronomy, spent time meditating on her spiritual connection to God, and wasn’t willing to compromise her values for the fleeting attention of someone who didn’t understand her.
Still, the idea wouldn’t leave her alone. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she grabbed a spiral notebook and a pencil from her desk drawer and began to write.
Dear Husband,
My name is Kissara Firecrest, and I am your wife. We don’t know each other yet, but I want to tell you something: I love you. I am already in love with you.
I lay in bed every night wishing I were in your arms. I long to hold your hand, to laugh with you, to share the simple joys of life together. I imagine us going out to dinner, or dancing under the stars, or exploring ancient ruins hand in hand, your presence making everything more vibrant. I dream of traveling the world with you—feeling the spray of ocean waves, getting lost in foreign cities, and always finding our way back to each other.
Every Sunday, I hand out church bulletins, and I picture you pulling into the parking lot, stepping out of your car, and walking through the doors with a smile just for me. I imagine us sitting together in the pew, side by side, our hands brushing against each other as we listen to the sermon. Your quiet strength, your warmth, a constant reminder that I am never alone.
I think about you all the time. I don’t know your name yet, or where you are, but I know you’re out there. Somewhere, you’re waiting for me, just as I am waiting for you.
I love you. I am in love with you. And one day, I believe we will find each other.
Sincerely, Your Wife,
Kissara Firecrest
Kissara stared at the page for a moment after finishing, feeling both foolish and oddly comforted. “I must be out of my mind,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head with a small smile.
Suddenly, her phone rang, making her jump. “Good grief,” she groaned, picking it up and seeing the caller ID: Leland Owens, her boss.
“What does this man want now?” she grumbled as she answered the call. “Hello?”
“Kissara, glad you picked up,” Leland’s voice came through, sounding far too chipper for a Saturday evening. “I need a favor.”
“What is it, Mr. Owens?” she asked, already dreading the answer.
“I need you to pick someone up from the airport on Monday. His flight gets in at 9:45 a.m., coming in from London.”
Kissara grabbed a sticky note and a pen, jotting down the details. “What airline and gate?”
“Silver Eagle Airlines, Gate 14-C,” Leland replied.
“Got it. Silver Eagle Airlines, Gate 14-C.” She scribbled it down and then asked, “And the name of this person?”
“Damian Michaels,” he said curtly.
Kissara raised an eyebrow. “Why is someone from London coming to Fire Point?”
“That’s classified,” Leland said in his usual authoritative tone.
Kissara bit her tongue, resisting the urge to argue. “Fine. Monday, 9:45 a.m., Silver Eagle Airlines, Gate 14-C,” she confirmed.
“Good. And Kissara?” Leland’s voice took on an all-too-familiar tone. “Are you doing anything tonight?”
Kissara closed her eyes and shook her head. “Mr. Owens,” she began slowly, “I’ve told you many times, I do not date my employers. Also, I’m not going to apologize for not dressing ‘attractively’ for you. If you want a receptionist who dresses like a tramp, hire one. I quit.”
And with that, she hung up the phone.
“Ugh! That man is a jerk,” she muttered, rubbing her temples in frustration.
Later that afternoon, Kissara’s phone buzzed again. This time, the caller ID flashed Warren Banner. She let out a breath, grateful it wasn’t Leland Owens.
“Hello?” Kissara answered, trying to sound upbeat despite her lingering irritation.
“Kissara,” Warren’s voice was smooth, professional, yet with a note of sympathy, “I need to ask a favor. Could you please still pick up Damian Michaels from the airport on Monday morning? I promise you—Leland won’t be pestering you anymore about your work attire.”
Kissara sighed, her frustration not quite quelled. “Mr. Banner, I appreciate that, but you know Leland’s been pushing boundaries for months.”
“I know,” Warren replied, his tone more serious now. “I’ve had a talk with him. Banner & Associates of Law does not have the time or tolerance for his immature, egotistical, and frankly lecherous behavior. He won’t apologize—we both know that—but the partners and I have decided he won’t be part of the meeting on Monday.”
Kissara blinked, surprised. “Wait, the meeting is connected to Damian Michaels?”
“Yes, it is,” Warren confirmed. “I can’t divulge everything, but his arrival is critical.”
Kissara nodded, even though Warren couldn’t see her. “I understand. And don’t worry—I still have all the details Leland gave me.”
“Thank you, Kissara. You’ve been a real angel putting up with all of this,” Warren said warmly.
Kissara allowed herself a small smile. “Thanks, Mr. Banner. I appreciate that.”
“We’ll see you Monday morning, then,” Warren said, his voice brightening.
“See you Monday,” Kissara echoed, ending the call.
She stared at her phone for a moment, letting the words hang in the air. “An angel, huh?” she murmured to herself. "If they only knew."
Just then, a strange, almost electric sensation washed over her, causing her to shiver involuntarily. Her breath caught in her throat as the feeling rippled down her spine, leaving her unsettled. She glanced around the room, half-expecting to see something out of place, but everything was exactly where it had been moments before.
“Okay... that was weird,” she muttered, rubbing her arms to ward off the lingering unease.
London, England
Damian Michaels sat at his desk, overwhelmed by the mountain of documents spread before him. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. For sixteen exhausting months, he’d been working on a case that felt as if it were pushing him to the edge of sanity. The case – a businessman with a long list of international charges found himself entangled with a shadowy cartel few had heard of yet everyone feared.
This cartel, ominously known as The Obsidian Syndicate, had cast a dark shadow over the case. Desperate and terrified, the businessman—Gavin Price—had gone into hiding after allegedly uncovering something incriminating about the syndicate. Interpol believed he had taken refuge in the United States, in a remote town called Fire Point, New Mexico. Oddly enough, the name of the town sparked something in Damian’s memory, though he couldn’t place exactly why.
Glancing up, he noticed the late hour.
“Enough for one night, Damian,” he muttered to himself. “You can tackle this with fresh eyes in the morning.”
As he rose from his chair, his gaze landed on the plane ticket on his desk. Tomorrow, he’d be flying to the United States. His first stop would be New York, where he’d meet with Gavin Price’s attorney to collect some critical documents Price had entrusted to him. From there, he’d continue on to Fire Point, hoping with Gavin’s cooperation to bring to an end to the The Obsidian Syndicate. However, something nagged at him. There was something about the name of the cartel that had him on edge.
“What is it about the Obsidian Syndicate that sounds….malevolent?” Damian asked himself.
Suddenly, a dark and ominous feeling shot down Damian’s back.
You will not impede upon us, fiery angel of God.
Damian went into a trance as a fiery aura surrounded him and his eyes glowed like stars.
What bargain did that ridiculous human make with you?
"What bargain did that ridiculous human make with you?"
An eerie laugh echoed through his flat, almost shattering the windows.
Foolish humans, always craving power and wealth. But this one... he wanted more. Unfettered desire, unburdened by human laws. We granted his wishes, yet now he seeks to renege on his debt. Typical.
Zaen said nothing.
No words, Fiery Angel of God?
I have nothing to say
Then you agree with us
I agree with nothing.
The eerie voice laughed again.
You Fiery Angels of God are so arrogant. You actually think that you can save this human. A human who willingly sought us out?
Once again Zaen was silent.
You will not be able to save him. He's too deeply entangled. Leave him to us
The dark and ominous aura soon subsided, but Zaen did not go dormant.
Magnificent Creator, he is right. I will not be able to save Gavin Price.
It is not him that you need to save. There are others who have suffered at the hands of Gavin Price. It is them that you are to save.
I understand
After those words, Zaen went dormant, allowing his human identity of Damian Michaels to surface.
“I must be exhausted if I am spacing out” he said to himself. And with that, Damian headed to his bedroom.
Sunday afternoon found Kissara half-wishing she’d skipped church that morning. It wasn’t that the service wasn’t lively and uplifting; it was just that one of the deacons had decided to stick his nose into her personal life. Now, she was at Roxanne’s apartment with her and Nina, recounting what had happened.
“Ew! Nosy Rosy Old Man,” Roxanne scoffed in her usual sassy tone. “Sounds like he needs to mind his own business.”
Nina giggled, nodding in agreement. “What made him so curious about your personal life, anyway?”
Kissara sighed. “I suspect it’s because most of the women at church my age are either engaged or married. I’m practically the only mid-twenties single left standing,” she replied, her tone tinged with a mix of annoyance and loneliness.
Nina offered a warm smile. “Cheer up! You’ll find your Spiritualis Maritus—someone who can accept that you have a divine destiny.”
“Speaking of my so-called divine destiny,” Kissara replied, raising an eyebrow, “even with some of my abilities surfacing, I haven’t felt any big ‘calling’ toward whatever it is I’m supposed to do.”
“Are you even looking for it?” Roxanne asked.
“More like... I can feel something on the horizon. I just wish I knew what. Something in me is restless, like it’s itching to do whatever it is I’m meant to do.”
“God will bring it forth in His time,” Nina said reassuringly.
“I know,” Kissara sighed, “but lately, I feel so restless, lonely, sad... and sometimes even lost.”
“Pray on it,” Nina advised. “God will reveal the answer.”
Roxanne nodded in agreement.
Later that day, Kissara returned home and headed straight to her room, changing into black leggings and a dark pink T-shirt. Sunlight flooded her bedroom, casting a bright reflection on a mysterious blue stone that had been on her desk since she found it at eighteen. She felt an odd urge to go over to it, and as she approached, the stone seemed to glow even brighter. She sat down and placed her hand on it.
Suddenly, a vision flashed before her.
A man stood before her, tall and striking, with long silver-blond hair and blue eyes that shone like stars against his warm beige skin. He was dressed in celestial armor with white wings and surrounded by a fiery, angelic light. He smiled at her.
We will be together, Armaita… We are Ember Consorts, destined to soar through the stars and carry out God’s Will.
Kissara glanced down, realizing that she, too, was dressed in celestial armor, hers glinting in silver and gold. Rose-gold wings extended from her back, encircled by a similar angelic fire.
Who are you?
I am your soulmate. We are destined to walk together as we always have.
The vision quickly faded, and Kissara found herself back in her room, shaking her head slightly to clear the trance.
“What in the name of God…?” she murmured to herself.
She glanced out her window, watching the setting sun as a shiver ran down her spine. Just then, a ringing sound echoed in both her ears. Though it wasn’t loud, the ringing was intense. As it subsided, a voice sounded in her mind:
Be prepared, Kissara. Many things are about to be revealed, and your life will change.
Divine Destiny - Part Four(Kanesha Andrews)
2004—Kissara Firecrest is twenty-six and life had taken her in an unexpected direction. She works at a local law office as a receptionist, a job that pas the bills but does little to stir her soul. Her once shoulder-length, dark brown hair had been cut into a neat, chin-length bob, and she’d noticed with a strange sense of loss that the fiery gold shimmer in her hair—the mark of her celestial heritage—had faded. Yet, even as the visible traces of her Pyrae lineage diminished, her otherworldly abilities had become stronger. She could hear the thoughts of others, sometimes from across the room, other times from far away. Glimpses of the future came to her in dreams and in fleeting moments during the day. And the emotions—she could feel them so deeply. Sometimes they were overwhelming, especially when she absorbed the pain and sorrow of others.
It was a Saturday afternoon. Kissara had just returned from a day of shopping with her two best friends, Nina and Roxanne. The bags sat on her bed, filled with clothes and small indulgences, but her mind was elsewhere. As she finished putting away her new purchases, she turned to her desk and powered up her computer, waiting for it to hum to life. As the familiar start-up screen blinked into view, an old dream came back to her—the dream from her eighteenth birthday.
The man with the long, stark white hair and ethereal armor had been so vivid. Even now, six years later, she could still recall the exact shade of his sparkling blue eyes, the warmth of his smile, and the strange familiarity in his gaze. Who was he? Why had he appeared to her? She had never seen him before, yet something in her heart told her he was important. Hector and Evan, her father’s closest friends and her mentors in navigating her celestial abilities, had taught her much about the Angyprx and the Pyrae. She knew how rare her kind was, how unusual it was for a Pyrae to be fathered by an Angyprx, as she had been. And yet, something still gnawed at her—a question she had long kept hidden, even from herself.
Why had God arranged for her to be born this way? What was His plan? Kissara often wondered, but instinctively, she knew it wasn’t time to ask. There were answers she wasn’t ready to receive.
With the computer now booted, Kissara busied herself checking emails and browsing the internet. It wasn’t long before she found herself drifting back into thought. An idea that had been prodding at her all week returned. It was silly, but she couldn’t shake it—the idea: Writing a letter to her husband. She wasn’t married. She didn’t even have a boyfriend. Dating in Fire Point had been difficult, to say the least. It was a small, quirky town, but even among its eccentric inhabitants, Kissara was just a little too different. She loved astronomy, spent time meditating on her spiritual connection to God, and wasn’t willing to compromise her values for the fleeting attention of someone who didn’t understand her.
Still, the idea wouldn’t leave her alone. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she grabbed a spiral notebook and a pencil from her desk drawer and began to write.
Dear Husband,
My name is Kissara Firecrest, and I am your wife. We don’t know each other yet, but I want to tell you something: I love you. I am already in love with you.
I lay in bed every night wishing I were in your arms. I long to hold your hand, to laugh with you, to share the simple joys of life together. I imagine us going out to dinner, or dancing under the stars, or exploring ancient ruins hand in hand, your presence making everything more vibrant. I dream of traveling the world with you—feeling the spray of ocean waves, getting lost in foreign cities, and always finding our way back to each other.
Every Sunday, I hand out church bulletins, and I picture you pulling into the parking lot, stepping out of your car, and walking through the doors with a smile just for me. I imagine us sitting together in the pew, side by side, our hands brushing against each other as we listen to the sermon. Your quiet strength, your warmth, a constant reminder that I am never alone.
I think about you all the time. I don’t know your name yet, or where you are, but I know you’re out there. Somewhere, you’re waiting for me, just as I am waiting for you.
I love you. I am in love with you. And one day, I believe we will find each other.
Sincerely, Your Wife,
Kissara Firecrest
Kissara stared at the page for a moment after finishing, feeling both foolish and oddly comforted. “I must be out of my mind,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head with a small smile.
Suddenly, her phone rang, making her jump. “Good grief,” she groaned, picking it up and seeing the caller ID: Leland Owens, her boss.
“What does this man want now?” she grumbled as she answered the call. “Hello?”
“Kissara, glad you picked up,” Leland’s voice came through, sounding far too chipper for a Saturday evening. “I need a favor.”
“What is it, Mr. Owens?” she asked, already dreading the answer.
“I need you to pick someone up from the airport on Monday. His flight gets in at 9:45 a.m., coming in from London.”
Kissara grabbed a sticky note and a pen, jotting down the details. “What airline and gate?”
“Silver Eagle Airlines, Gate 14-C,” Leland replied.
“Got it. Silver Eagle Airlines, Gate 14-C.” She scribbled it down and then asked, “And the name of this person?”
“Damian Michaels,” he said curtly.
Kissara raised an eyebrow. “Why is someone from London coming to Fire Point?”
“That’s classified,” Leland said in his usual authoritative tone.
Kissara bit her tongue, resisting the urge to argue. “Fine. Monday, 9:45 a.m., Silver Eagle Airlines, Gate 14-C,” she confirmed.
“Good. And Kissara?” Leland’s voice took on an all-too-familiar tone. “Are you doing anything tonight?”
Kissara closed her eyes and shook her head. “Mr. Owens,” she began slowly, “I’ve told you many times, I do not date my employers. Also, I’m not going to apologize for not dressing ‘attractively’ for you. If you want a receptionist who dresses like a tramp, hire one. I quit.”
And with that, she hung up the phone.
“Ugh! That man is a jerk,” she muttered, rubbing her temples in frustration.
Later that afternoon, Kissara’s phone buzzed again. This time, the caller ID flashed Warren Banner. She let out a breath, grateful it wasn’t Leland Owens.
“Hello?” Kissara answered, trying to sound upbeat despite her lingering irritation.
“Kissara,” Warren’s voice was smooth, professional, yet with a note of sympathy, “I need to ask a favor. Could you please still pick up Damian Michaels from the airport on Monday morning? I promise you—Leland won’t be pestering you anymore about your work attire.”
Kissara sighed, her frustration not quite quelled. “Mr. Banner, I appreciate that, but you know Leland’s been pushing boundaries for months.”
“I know,” Warren replied, his tone more serious now. “I’ve had a talk with him. Banner & Associates of Law does not have the time or tolerance for his immature, egotistical, and frankly lecherous behavior. He won’t apologize—we both know that—but the partners and I have decided he won’t be part of the meeting on Monday.”
Kissara blinked, surprised. “Wait, the meeting is connected to Damian Michaels?”
“Yes, it is,” Warren confirmed. “I can’t divulge everything, but his arrival is critical.”
Kissara nodded, even though Warren couldn’t see her. “I understand. And don’t worry—I still have all the details Leland gave me.”
“Thank you, Kissara. You’ve been a real angel putting up with all of this,” Warren said warmly.
Kissara allowed herself a small smile. “Thanks, Mr. Banner. I appreciate that.”
“We’ll see you Monday morning, then,” Warren said, his voice brightening.
“See you Monday,” Kissara echoed, ending the call.
She stared at her phone for a moment, letting the words hang in the air. “An angel, huh?” she murmured to herself. "If they only knew."
Just then, a strange, almost electric sensation washed over her, causing her to shiver involuntarily. Her breath caught in her throat as the feeling rippled down her spine, leaving her unsettled. She glanced around the room, half-expecting to see something out of place, but everything was exactly where it had been moments before.
“Okay... that was weird,” she muttered, rubbing her arms to ward off the lingering unease.
London, England
Damian Michaels sat at his desk, overwhelmed by the mountain of documents spread before him. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. For sixteen exhausting months, he’d been working on a case that felt as if it were pushing him to the edge of sanity. The case – a businessman with a long list of international charges found himself entangled with a shadowy cartel few had heard of yet everyone feared.
This cartel, ominously known as The Obsidian Syndicate, had cast a dark shadow over the case. Desperate and terrified, the businessman—Gavin Price—had gone into hiding after allegedly uncovering something incriminating about the syndicate. Interpol believed he had taken refuge in the United States, in a remote town called Fire Point, New Mexico. Oddly enough, the name of the town sparked something in Damian’s memory, though he couldn’t place exactly why.
Glancing up, he noticed the late hour.
“Enough for one night, Damian,” he muttered to himself. “You can tackle this with fresh eyes in the morning.”
As he rose from his chair, his gaze landed on the plane ticket on his desk. Tomorrow, he’d be flying to the United States. His first stop would be New York, where he’d meet with Gavin Price’s attorney to collect some critical documents Price had entrusted to him. From there, he’d continue on to Fire Point, hoping with Gavin’s cooperation to bring to an end to the The Obsidian Syndicate. However, something nagged at him. There was something about the name of the cartel that had him on edge.
“What is it about the Obsidian Syndicate that sounds….malevolent?” Damian asked himself.
Suddenly, a dark and ominous feeling shot down Damian’s back.
You will not impede upon us, fiery angel of God.
Damian went into a trance as a fiery aura surrounded him and his eyes glowed like stars.
What bargain did that ridiculous human make with you?
"What bargain did that ridiculous human make with you?"
An eerie laugh echoed through his flat, almost shattering the windows.
Foolish humans, always craving power and wealth. But this one... he wanted more. Unfettered desire, unburdened by human laws. We granted his wishes, yet now he seeks to renege on his debt. Typical.
Zaen said nothing.
No words, Fiery Angel of God?
I have nothing to say
Then you agree with us
I agree with nothing.
The eerie voice laughed again.
You Fiery Angels of God are so arrogant. You actually think that you can save this human. A human who willingly sought us out?
Once again Zaen was silent.
You will not be able to save him. He's too deeply entangled. Leave him to us
The dark and ominous aura soon subsided, but Zaen did not go dormant.
Magnificent Creator, he is right. I will not be able to save Gavin Price.
It is not him that you need to save. There are others who have suffered at the hands of Gavin Price. It is them that you are to save.
I understand
After those words, Zaen went dormant, allowing his human identity of Damian Michaels to surface.
“I must be exhausted if I am spacing out” he said to himself. And with that, Damian headed to his bedroom.
Sunday afternoon found Kissara half-wishing she’d skipped church that morning. It wasn’t that the service wasn’t lively and uplifting; it was just that one of the deacons had decided to stick his nose into her personal life. Now, she was at Roxanne’s apartment with her and Nina, recounting what had happened.
“Ew! Nosy Rosy Old Man,” Roxanne scoffed in her usual sassy tone. “Sounds like he needs to mind his own business.”
Nina giggled, nodding in agreement. “What made him so curious about your personal life, anyway?”
Kissara sighed. “I suspect it’s because most of the women at church my age are either engaged or married. I’m practically the only mid-twenties single left standing,” she replied, her tone tinged with a mix of annoyance and loneliness.
Nina offered a warm smile. “Cheer up! You’ll find your Spiritualis Maritus—someone who can accept that you have a divine destiny.”
“Speaking of my so-called divine destiny,” Kissara replied, raising an eyebrow, “even with some of my abilities surfacing, I haven’t felt any big ‘calling’ toward whatever it is I’m supposed to do.”
“Are you even looking for it?” Roxanne asked.
“More like... I can feel something on the horizon. I just wish I knew what. Something in me is restless, like it’s itching to do whatever it is I’m meant to do.”
“God will bring it forth in His time,” Nina said reassuringly.
“I know,” Kissara sighed, “but lately, I feel so restless, lonely, sad... and sometimes even lost.”
“Pray on it,” Nina advised. “God will reveal the answer.”
Roxanne nodded in agreement.
Later that day, Kissara returned home and headed straight to her room, changing into black leggings and a dark pink T-shirt. Sunlight flooded her bedroom, casting a bright reflection on a mysterious blue stone that had been on her desk since she found it at eighteen. She felt an odd urge to go over to it, and as she approached, the stone seemed to glow even brighter. She sat down and placed her hand on it.
Suddenly, a vision flashed before her.
A man stood before her, tall and striking, with long silver-blond hair and blue eyes that shone like stars against his warm beige skin. He was dressed in celestial armor with white wings and surrounded by a fiery, angelic light. He smiled at her.
We will be together, Armaita… We are Ember Consorts, destined to soar through the stars and carry out God’s Will.
Kissara glanced down, realizing that she, too, was dressed in celestial armor, hers glinting in silver and gold. Rose-gold wings extended from her back, encircled by a similar angelic fire.
Who are you?
I am your soulmate. We are destined to walk together as we always have.
The vision quickly faded, and Kissara found herself back in her room, shaking her head slightly to clear the trance.
“What in the name of God…?” she murmured to herself.
She glanced out her window, watching the setting sun as a shiver ran down her spine. Just then, a ringing sound echoed in both her ears. Though it wasn’t loud, the ringing was intense. As it subsided, a voice sounded in her mind:
Be prepared, Kissara. Many things are about to be revealed, and your life will change.
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