Angeions: Chapter 9

Chapter 9 HISTORY AND PAST PAINS

AELLA

Aquarius!

I yelled in frustration, in my mind. It was taking me a lot of effort not to let my aura out and attack him. I shifted my weight on the chair impatiently. I didn’t know if Kat had recognised him. Of course she had not seen Aquarius in person but I was sure that Angelus had shown her the family portrait drawn a thousand years ago. That was probably the only place where she could have seen Aquarius from. I turned to her, scanning her face for any realisation.

Her eyes were on Aquarius. Tight lips and narrowed eyes, Kat’s unmistakeable look of careful scrutiny. She was looking for the scar, I realised. She had already recognised him.

“Sorry for disappointing you class, I’m not Mr McCoy,” Aquarius said in his smooth bass, walking through the door to the front of the class.

I could see the expressions in the girls’ faces. I was sure they could throw themselves over a cliff if Aquarius asked them to. I too was once attracted to him but all that remained now of my past fascination was the stink of the dark aura around him.

“But I will be taking you for history this particular lesson,” he said, folding his arms at his chest.

What game was Aquarius playing? Time would tell. Right now, the scar was more important. I scanned his neck as subtly as I could.

“Wow Aella,” I heard a whisper from my side, “I’ve never seen you interested in someone this much.”

I turned to Jessica’s stare. She was smiling at me in wonder.

“What?” I asked.

“I see you are checking out the substitute teacher,” she said with the same ‘Found you out!’ smile you’d show to a three year old you found stealing sugar.

And there I was thinking I was being subtle! I guess I had to work on my spying skills.

“No,” I whispered in defiance. Knowing Jessica, she would not believe me anyway. So I saved myself a long explanation and turned away from her.

“I don’t blame you, he is like the cutest guy ever,” Jessica whispered in a dreamy tone.

I ignored her. There was no trace of a scar on his neck. Could it be possible that they had not met yet? But what about what Charis and Hannora said? There had to be something I was missing.

“You can call me Mr A,” Aquarius said as he rubbed his hands together.

He scanned the faces in the class with a big smile on his face before settling his gaze on me. I looked into his green eyes with my best poker face. He looked away, moving on to Jessica. Then he grinned even wider.

“Awww! He’s like angel,” Jessica commented in another dreamy whisper. “You know, with wings and all that.”

“Yeah, like an angel alright,” I whispered to myself sarcastically.

I shifted my sight to aura vision. He had to be hiding the scar with his aura. I knew my eyes had become a darker shade of blue so I avoided any other face and looked straight to his neck.

“You have such a cool name Mr A,” Ashley said in a sensual tone pushing her exposed legs outward where Aquarius could see them.

Aquarius unfolded his arms from his chest and walked to her.

“How could you have known how cool my name is when you’ve never heard it before?” he asked, smoothly cocking his head. He raised eyebrows to reinforce his wonder.

The whole class laughed when Ashley smiled shyly. Aquarius bent slightly and laid a comforting hand on her shoulders. I almost chocked with disgust. He was always the good guy, wasn’t he?

I ignored my disdain. This was my chance to look for the scar; Aquarius had arched his neck just precisely. I cast my gaze and bingo, spotted the faint mark. It was hardly an inch long, spanning at the exact area I had seen Ganos hold the knife in the vision.

Aquarius looked at me, wanting to share the moment as he touched Ashley sentimentally. I retracted my aura’s vision and my eyes returned to normal just as I met his gaze. I flashed my brightest smile at him. He saw genuine joy where he expected anger, only he did not know that it had come from the success I just had seconds ago. It had the desired effect though, my smile. Aquarius turned away with a faded smile.

“We will not continue with where Mr McCoy had left,” he declared, walking confidently to the whiteboard. “Instead, we will look at the history of our own city here, New Orleans.”

“New Orleans?” Chad asked as he adjusted his thick framed glasses to see Aquarius properly.

Chad was an intelligent young man who loved to learn, from my perspective at least. The rest of the class thought he was, well, what everyone thinks a skinny, smart but shy boy is- a nerd.

“Yes,” Aquarius answered coolly, “do you have any objections?”

“No sir, but…,” Chad started timidly before Aquarius cut him off mid-sentence.

“I don’t plan on compromising so why don’t we just begin,” Aquarius said in a cold voice

Chad nearly crawled into his own pocket. I felt sorry for him. What Aquarius was up to was more important though so I paid attention to our Mr A.

“We’ll be looking at the history of New Orleans from another dimension, a mythical one to be precise. The great thing about our lesson today is that you won’t have to take any notes nor is it going to be tested in any exam,” Aquarius said as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Then he laid a book sized parcel on the teacher’s desk.

“You will not need your reference books either,” Aquarius said as he carefully opened the parcel and took out an ancient looking book with a withered black hard cover that was embroidered with golden threads.

He raised the book for everyone to see. The cover had a picture of a very old building of ancient French design. It had three spires making it look oddly familiar, as if I had seen it somewhere.

“Most you would not recognise this building when it’s really the most famous structure in New Orleans.” Aquarius said as he lowered the book.

Then I remembered. The original St Louis Cathedral, 1794 structure. I turned to Kat; shock was registered on her face. If there was someone who knew about New Orleans’ dark past then it was her. We had only lived in New Orleans for the last fifty years after relocating from an apartment in London. Kat on the other hand, was born in New Orleans in the 1780s. Angelus and Kat actually first met in a mass at the St Louis Cathedral back in 1800s. That was when I had seen the church, I recalled.

“This is the great three spired St Louis Cathedral in its original form,” Aquarius continued. “The mythical history of New Orleans revolves around this structure.”

Where there was resistance at first, I saw concentration in Chad. Everyone was very attentive, I realised. Aquarius had won himself an audience. He looked at me and smiled as if he could hear my thoughts. I ignored him and turned back to Kat. She seemed to be over the shock. I was sure that she had found out something, perhaps a hint to why Aquarius was suddenly interested in teaching history.

Aquarius sat on the teacher’s table and placed the book on his lap before he continued.

“Legend has it that two thousand years ago a deity walked among men. His name was Kristos son of Theos. Drawing from the powers of Ouranous, he waged war against a group of half spirits known as the Nephilim in order set men free. Ironically, he was slain by the very men he sought to save. More ironic though, is the fact that Kristos achieved greater victory when he descended into Hades and killed Death before his father took him up to Ouranous.”

I realised that Aquarius was narrating the Allos, the truth that was the core of existence of the Angeions. But to what end?

“The legend continues that after Kristos had left earth, the Nephilim decided seek revenge against the human race for their days of terror by Kristos’ hand. Many humans were slain before they cried out to Theos to save them.”

Aquarius held his silence for seconds as he let his narration sink in. Then he continued.

“This is where it gets interesting; in response to the Nephilim’s uprising, Theos elected three human families and from them, he fashioned a group of warriors called the Angeions. The Angeions had great abilities and so they fought the Nephilim and restored order to the earth.

Five hundred years later, one family defected from Theos’ will. Taking up from the famous mythologies of those days they declared themselves gods. They formed allies with the Nephilim and the Fallen and from it, fashioned a great metropolis called Olympus.

The ‘gods of Olympus’ as they dubbed themselves, then wiped out one of the three families because Angeions were really the only beings who could oppose them. But as they tried to destroy the other family and finally claim dominance, Theos intervened. He granted power to one Angeion and his wife who vanquished the gods of Olympus, bound them and cast them in a prison known as Tartarus. When it was all done, Theos sent his angels to destroy Olympus.

In short, the gods were imprisoned and Olympus destroyed. Yet there was one thing which remained. The one thing that could undo all of Theo’s work. The one thing that could awaken the gods and resurrect Olympus. The one thing that Theos could not destroy, the Dramaticus.”

I knew there was something fishy about Aquarius’ tale. The beginning was the Allos alright but the end, clearly fabricated. The tale of the Forsakers was always a mysterious one yet I was sure about one thing. There was nothing that Theos supposedly couldn’t destroy.

“But what has this legend got to do with our dear city?” Aquarius threw the rhetoric question. “Well, it is said that when Theos was met with the difficulty that the Dramaticus posed, he sought to hide it from the reach of the Fallen and Nephilim. Therefore, he buried it deep within the earth in a hidden chamber close to Hades where it lay undiscovered for a thousand years.

It was within the 17th century when the details of the location of the Dramaticus spread across the earth. The Fallen and Nephilim converged around the place in an attempt to free the gods of Olympus. Seeing this, Theos erected a fortress above the ground where the Dramaticus lay buried. And thus was the birth of the original St Louis Cathedral in 1718.”

Everyone was quiet. The dramatic finish that Aquarius had put to his tale had shaken the class in a way I couldn’t have imagined. It was one thing to listen to a tale but to live it was something else, especially when it was one as horrific as this. I had to congratulate Aquarius for the well-rehearsed legend.

“Of course it is only a myth,” Aquarius said as he stood from the table “You all don’t have to be that petrified.”

I could almost hear those sighs of relief from the sweat beaded teenagers. Aquarius was clearly toying with their minds.

“Then again,” he said as he walked casually around the class room until he reached where I sat, “the legend kind of explains why New Orleans is America’s most haunted city. I mean, from hurricanes to mysterious suicides and the ghost citings, especially around the Jackson square…”

He shook his head contemplatively and looked around. Satisfied with the horror he saw on their faces, he flashed a brilliant smile at me. I would have preferred to turn my head away in disgust but that would be yielding to him. So I stared into his green eyes with an expressionless face.

“And that concludes our brief history lesson,” Aquarius said, brushing through his blonde curls with his fingers before walking to the door. He stopped a few feet short to the door and turned.

“I hope you’ve all enjoyed the lesson,” he smiled, “because I sure did.”

Aquarius walked out the door and a millisecond later the bell for the end of the period rang.

***

“That was what he said?” Angelus asked incredulously

“Yeah, that Theos failed to destroy this Dramaticus thing and had to hide it,” I answered.

“We know it’s all false of course,” Kat said.

“Without a doubt,” I affirmed, “yet the existence of this Dramaticus is arguable. Father and Mother were so secretive about the circumstances in which they defeated the Forsakers. Perhaps it was Ouranous’ will that this Dramaticus be hidden for another reason.”

Everyone around the dining table was cracking their minds trying to find the rationale behind Aquarius’ dramatic lesson earlier on. I studied their faces, assessing their reaction to my theory.

“Perhaps,” Angelus said shifting his bulky body impatiently on the chair.

“It’s true that New Orleans is infested with the Fallen and Nephilim,” Charis said, narrowing his hazel eyes in thought. “There must be something here that’s attracting them.”

“Yeah. That can be proof that the Dramaticus really exist,” Hannora completed her brother’s thought.

I had already thought of that. Only that I came up with more questions than answers. If only I knew where the answers to those many questions existed…

“But more important is the question, if the Dramaticus really exists then what is it really?” Angelus said, bringing another dimension to the puzzle.

“That’s true, we can’t trust Aquarius’ description of it,” Kat added to her husband’s thought.

The question of the nature of the Dramaticus had crossed my mind too. Was it something that could unlock Tartarus?

“Kat, why were you shocked when you saw that book?” I asked impulsively, meeting her big brown eyes.

Kat looked away apprehensively. It broke my heart. Her face was a mask of pain and fear, as that of a child who had witnessed a great horror.

“Forgive me for asking, Kat,” I apologised knowing that I had undoubtedly reminded her of a painful experience.

Sure, we needed every bit of information that we could find but not at the expense of anyone’s feelings.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to say anything,” I said as I stretched my hand to touch hers on the table.

I felt coldness in them. Kat looked at me and I could see the glistering of tears in her eyes.

“I thought I had forgotten. I thought I was done with that day…yet the picture brought it all back.”

Angelus moved closer to Kat and put his arms around her.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered comfortingly to her.

Kat inclined her head and stared into her husband’s eyes momentarily. Then she ignored him and continued.

“I will never forget that day, March 21, 1788,” Kat stared sightlessly as her memories transported her to the past.

21th March 1788

“Don’t go too far with your brother, Aikaterina. I want us to leave as soon as the mass ends,”

“Okay mama, you worry a lot. We’ll just be around the Plaza de Armas,” the girl said to her mother.

She held her younger brother’s little hand in hers. The mother smiled lovingly at her two children. She placed her hand on each of their cheeks.

“Alright,” she said to her daughter, pressing her cheek, “and I can’t stop worrying about my two little angels.”

Aikaterina and her brother hopped away from their mother merrily as she watched. She watched them until they disappeared around a corner before she went back into the church.

“Here’s the flower I wanted to show you, Andres,” Aikaterina said to her little brother.

The rectangular flower bed outside the office was very neat and beautiful. It was the new flower there that was more captivating though. Aikaterina had seen it just the day before. It seemed almost impossible to have grown so big in just one day. Its long rope like flowers cascaded to the ground from its tall and erect stem. Aikaterina marvelled at its beauty. It had petals which were so breath-taking. Their colour had to be the darkest shade of red ever, so deep and mature.

“It’s so beautiful Andres” Aikaterina said breathlessly to her four year old brother who also seemed spellbound by the flower.

“Amaranthus,” said a deep voice from above. Aikaterina looked up and saw a hooded face. A man, she judged from the voice.

“Is that the name of the flower, sir?” Aikaterina asked him.

The man crouched until he was the same height as the girl and his brother. He stared at the flower.

“Yeah, it means ‘unfading’.”

Aikaterina looked at the man again. He was wearing a black cloak and had gloves on. Aikaterina had not seen his face clearly but she could tell from his accent that she was not from here. A visitor to the government office, she thought. The man straightened himself and smiled at her before walking away, his cloak floating in the wind. She watched him until he disappeared round Chartres Street.

“Hermana,” Andres tugged at her skirt. She turned to her brother. He was holding a book-sized parcel in his little hands. “I think that man has left this.”

“Wait here Andres, I’ll take it to him,” Aikaterina said, taking the parcel from her brother. “Okay? Stay here.”

She turned and started running towards where she had seen the man turn. Almost everyone was at St Louis Cathedral and the city was almost deserted. She stopped and looked back at her brother.

“Stay there and don’t move,” Aikaterina shouted to him before turning about the corner.

She had been walking for three minutes now and there was still no sign of the man. There was only one long and straight street and Aikaterina could not understand how he could have disappeared so quickly.

“Hermana!” she had the distant call of a frightened child.

“Andres!” she realised in fright.

Aikaterina threw the parcel away in shock as adrenalin rushed into her veins, prompting her to run as fast as she could. She reached the flower bed gasping for breath.

“Andres!” Aikaterina called out. Her brother was out of sight and her heart was beating rapidly in her chest as fear gripped her.

“Hermana!” Andres shouted in reply.

She looked around frightfully. Aikaterina could not tell where the voice was coming from. She was panicking where composure was needed.

“Hermana!” Andres called out again.

Mercy of Theos, he’s almost crying, Aikaterina thought. She looked around again. The flower bed was outside the office of the military treasurer; maybe Andres was in the office. There was a glass window just above the flower bed where one could look into the office. Aikaterina jumped over the flower bed oblivious of the thorns tearing into her soft flesh. She could not reach the window. She was too short. She caught the window sill and hauled herself up by her knees. The pain of the concrete wall eating into her elbows and knee caps was masked by the joy of seeing Andres through the window.

“Don’t be afraid Andres, I’ll get you out,” she shouted.

Andres was standing in the middle of the office with tearful brown eyes.

Aikaterina leaped from the window and quickly ran to the door. She turned the door knob several times but the door would not open. She shook the door in frustration. It was locked. How did Andres get himself in?

“Andres,” she called out again. “How did you get in?”

“Hermana!” Andres screamed, this time really afraid. Aikaterina rushed back to the window, lifted herself up and looked in.

“Andres,” she shouted, “What’s wrong? What are you seeing Andres?”

Andres was standing where he had been but his back was to the window. Aikaterina could only see his back. He was staring at something within the room and she could not see what it was.

“Andres!” she called out again. She was getting tired of hanging by the window sill. There was hardly any skin left to absorb the dreadful attacks of the concrete. Still, Andres did not turn. It was as if he could not hear her at all. Lactic acid was building in her muscles. How long could she continue hanging on?

“Andres,” she called out once again.

This time feebly and in resignation. Out of nowhere, Andres turned slowly until she could see his face. She looked with surprise at her brother; he was smiling peacefully! Aikaterina’s limbs gave way and she dropped to the ground, hitting it with a thud that sounded like an explosion. Then everything went bright, too bright to see... and suddenly she was fading in the brightness.

“Eight hundred and fifty six buildings were reduced to ash that day, all in five hours,” Kat said as she looked at me, sight returning to her teary eyes. “Andres, his body was not even found. They found me a block away from Chartres Street, unconscious yet not even a strand of my hair was burnt. Up to this day I don’t know how I got there when I was at the heart of the fire. I was there when the office exploded. I was there my little brother was being consumed by the flames...”

“I’m sorry Kat…that must have been traumatic for an eight year old. It must have been horrible,” I said, my words barely coming out.

I could feel the sting of the tears in my eyes. Kat flashed a weak smile at me.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” she said. “That picture on Aquarius book is the picture of the original cathedral in 1786 before the fire. It’s not the 1794 structure although they were almost the same in design. I know that picture because it was my mom who drew it. And Aquarius’ parcel, the one he had the book in… I’m almost confident that it’s the one I tried to get to the hooded man and ended up leaving Andres alone.”