Chapter 50: The Shy Angel

Grace arrived at the eastern departure point fifteen minutes early, hoping to make a good impression. Being professional seemed like the least she could do after getting assigned to this important mission.

She was the first one there.

The eastern cliff stretched before her, brilliant white marble against the endless blue sky. From here, angels answered prayers and launched themselves into the mortal realm. It was beautiful, sacred, and Grace still felt like an imposter every time she stood on it.

[I’m a turnip farmer playing angel. Any minute now, they’ll figure it out and send me back to… well, I can’t go back now, but you get the idea.]

She paced back and forth, checking and rechecking her simple pack. Healing supplies that Mara had provided, a change of clothes, and her rapier, which now manifested as a small golden ring on her finger when not in use. It was all very practical and sensible.

“Graaaace! We’re here!”

And there went any chance of looking professional.

Alia bounded toward her, waving frantically with one hand while dragging a trunk behind her that was twice her size. Zephyr followed at a more reasonable pace, carrying what looked like… was that a picnic basket?

“What are you two bringing?” Grace asked, already dreading the answer.

“Essentials!” Alia dropped her trunk with a thud that actually cracked the marble floor.

“I’m afraid to ask, but… what essentials?”

Zephyr placed her basket down delicately.

“Massage oils, relaxation aids, comfort enhancers.”

Grace grimaced.

“You mean sex toys.”

“Of course not,” Zephyr looked offended. Then she lowered her voice. “We call those ’divine pleasure instruments.’”

Grace pinched the bridge of her nose.

“We’re going to help sick people, not give them… happy endings.”

“Healing happens in many ways, don’t’cha know?” Alia said with complete seriousness. “Pleasure energy is very therapeutic.”

There was no saving this woman.

“And you? What’s your excuse?” Grace turned to Zephyr, hoping for at least one rational team member.

Zephyr shrugged.

“Have you seen village accommodations? The beds are awful. I need my weighted blanket and aromatherapy diffuser.”

“You barely even sleep!”

“Excuse you, I rest aesthetically.”

[Great. And she’s the reasonable one!]

Grace was about to argue further when she spotted Mara approaching. She wasn’t alone.

Walking slightly behind Mara—no, practically hiding behind her—was an angel Grace had never seen before. She had long green hair that cascaded down past her waist and striking yellow eyes that were firmly fixed on the ground. Her uniform was immaculate, blue and silver of the Sisters of Compassion, but unlike Mara’s revealing version, this angel’s covered nearly every inch of skin.

Most noticeably, floating above her head, visible only to Grace, were blue letters:

Level 61

[Whoa. That’s high!]

Granted, as she’d seen with Mara and the Primal Demon on Oakridge, that was her level as a Compassion Sister. That didn’t necessarily mean she’d be able to take down powerful enemies, but rather that her healing power was incredible.

“Grace! Alia! Zephyr!” Mara called out. “I’d like you to meet the final member of our team. This is Petriel, one of my most talented healers.”

The green-haired angel took a tiny step forward, still not making eye contact with anyone.

“H-hello,” she whispered, so quietly Grace had to strain to hear it.

“Though not quite as efficient as Grace’s new ability, Petriel has been developing specialized purification techniques,” Mara continued proudly. “Her methods might be crucial for this mission.”

Grace stepped forward, extending her hand with a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Petriel. I’m Grace.”

Petriel’s eyes darted up for a split second, widened in what looked like panic, and then she tried to take a step back. Tried being the operative word.

Instead, her foot caught on nothing at all. Her arms pinwheeled wildly as she toppled backward. The meticulously organized satchel she carried exploded open, sending vials, herbs, and bandages flying in every direction.

“Oh no!” Grace rushed forward, dropping to her knees to help gather the scattered supplies. “Are you okay?”

Petriel made a sound like “mmmph” and frantically began scooping items back into her bag, still avoiding eye contact.

Grace reached for a small green vial at the same moment Petriel did. Their fingers brushed.

It was like someone had set off a divine bomb.

Petriel squeaked, her entire face turning the color of a tomato. A burst of blue-green light erupted from her hands, and before Grace could blink, tiny white flowers burst from the marble floor between them, forming a small garden in the shape of a heart.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry!” Petriel stuttered, looking mortified. “S-sometimes my energy j-just—”

“Makes things grow?” Grace finished, staring at the flowers in wonder. “That’s amazing!”

[Was she an Earth-Tender in the past or something? Or, is this something any angel can do?]

Petriel looked like she might actually combust from embarrassment.

“If you two are done with the botanical explosion…” Diana’s voice cut through the moment like ice.

Grace looked up to find Diana standing over them, arms crossed, expression thoroughly unimpressed.

“Diana! I didn’t know you were coming,” Grace said.

“Obviously.” Diana’s eyes flicked to the flowers, then to Petriel, who was now practically hiding inside her own hair. “Seraph’s orders. Apparently, I’m your babysitter again.”

“We don’t need a babysitter,” Grace protested.

“Tell that to the Primal Demon who nearly ate you last time.”

“I killed that thing!”

“When I threw you at it,” DIana countered and ignored her, focusing instead on Petriel, who was trying to make herself as small as possible. “You’re the healer specialist?”

Petriel nodded without looking up.

“Can you speak?”

“Y-yes,” came the whispered reply.

Diana sighed.

“If she can’t handle looking at you, how will she handle a corrupted village? I’m not carrying dead weight.”

“Diana!” Mara snapped, stepping forward. “Petriel is one of my most gifted healers. Her social anxiety doesn’t impact her abilities.”

“S-social anxiety?” Petriel looked up, confused. “I don’t have social anxiety. I just…” She glanced at Grace, immediately turned red again, and looked away. “I’m f-fine with everyone else.”

A loaded silence followed.

[Wait, is it just me she can’t look at? Why?]

“Now that we’re all acquainted,” Mara said, clapping her hands together, “let’s finalize our plan. Rosewood is about three hours’ flight from here. We’ll—”

“WAAAIIIT!” A voice rang out across the cliff.

All heads turned to see Seraph charging toward them, red hair flying behind her like a battle flag.

“Oh goddess,” Diana muttered. “What now?”

Seraph skidded to a halt in front of them, not even slightly out of breath despite clearly having sprinted across half the Dominion for fun.

“LIGHTSINGER!” she boomed, making Grace jump. “Almost forgot!”

She thrust a small package into Grace’s hands.

“What’s this?” Grace asked, turning the cloth-wrapped bundle over.

“Anti-corruption gear! Designed it myself!” Seraph looked ridiculously proud. “Infused with warrior energy. Just a new bit of equipment for you to test out.”

“Thank you?” Grace carefully unwrapped it to find… a pair of golden brass knuckles. “Um.”

“Sometimes you gotta punch the sickness right out of ’em!” Seraph mimed an uppercut.

“That’s not how healing works,” Mara said with an exasperated sigh.

“Says you!” Seraph retorted. “Anyway, good luck, don’t die, bring everyone back alive, especially Diana!”

And with that, she was gone, sprinting back the way she’d come.

“Does she ever just fly anywhere?” Grace wondered aloud.

“No,” Diana and Mara answered in unison.

Mara checked the sun’s position.

“Time to depart. Everyone ready?”

Alia hefted her massive trunk.

“Ready!”

Zephyr picked up her basket.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Diana just grunted, which Grace had learned meant “yes, but I refuse to be enthusiastic about it.”

Petriel nodded silently, still looking everywhere but at Grace.

“Eastern cliff prayer reception has the coordinates for Rosewood,” Mara explained. “We’ll dive directly to the area, do a preliminary inspection, and make our way from there.”

They lined up at the cliff edge. Far below, the mortal realm of Linaria stretched out like a patchwork quilt. Forests, fields, and the occasional town dotted the landscape. Somewhere down there was Rosewood, filled with people who needed their help.

[I can do this. Healing people is way better than fighting demons. What could go wrong?]

“On my mark,” Mara called. “Three… two… one… DIVE!”

They leapt from the cliff as one, wings unfurling to catch the divine currents between realms.

Grace felt the familiar rush of air against her face, the pull of gravity, and then the weightless sensation as her wings took over. Below, Linaria grew larger, details sharpening with each passing second. This was angel work—real angel work—and she was part of it.

She glanced over to see Petriel flying perfectly, her anxiety seemingly forgotten in the joy of flight. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Petriel actually smiled before quickly looking away again.

[Interesting. Very interesting.]

Together, they soared toward Rosewood and whatever awaited them there.

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