Sigillum ex Fatum [UNDER EDITING]

Chapter 27

I threw myself into my studies. Metatron had gifted me access to anything and everything. I voraciously read as much as I could, going well beyond the acceptable limits of my physical well-being; or so I thought.

Since embracing my true angelic self, I found there were some mortal attributes I no longer had to adhere to. Sleep was one of them. I also found it easier for me to heal; a papercut would sting a moment, but then quickly vanish. More serious wounds would have to be concentrated on, or attended to by other angel's, but even so, severe injuries no longer put fear in me. So that was how I spent my days.

By the thirteen day, and I still had zero contact with Mikha'el, I began to pry. I asked anyone who would listen if they had seen him. It was generally a blanket 'no'. However, there were three instances where I was told they had seen him, but he had specifically told them if they saw me to not divulge his location to me.

So, in other words, he was not only actively avoiding me, but had dragged other angel's into it.

I was crushed. Truthfully I was desperate. So, after a month into him avoiding me I could no longer stand it. I gave into my desperation and did something to this day fret over if I should have done it or not.

I summoned Indrajala.

~

Throughout Heaven are religious stations. They are in tune with other deities, shrines that honestly work sort of like a celestial telephone. Go to a shrine, offer up a prayer and/or offering, and see what happens.

So, it was on the thirty-first day of Mikha'el's absence I found myself standing at the alter for Hinduism. It was lovely, a sort of hutch made from rounded rocks. White lilies dangled and draped over the entire mini-temple. At the back was a golden mirror. There was incense already there, which I lit. Ashes from previous sessions were left at the bottom of the shrine. I would make it a point to clean it and chide whomever had left it in a disgraceful dirtied state.

However, at that moment I clasped my hands together, bowed my head, and shut my eyes.

"Dearest Indrajala, I need to speak with you."

I internally panicked.

"Er, I mean, I would like to speak with you. I'm, I would be humbled by your presence. If it's not too much of a bother. That is, if you are too busy for me I understand. I mean, not that you have to explain your time to me-in fact, I wouldn't dream of having you answer to me."

I glared and felt myself flush.

"Oh bother. I've really mucked this up-"

There came a breeze, the sound of wind chimes, and Indrajala's unmistakable laugh. My head snapped up; there was her visage, staring right at me. That day she wore an outfit of emerald green, and I was once again memorized by her sheer beauty.

"How long have you been listening?"

"Long enough," she laughed.

I felt my ears turn pink.

"Please, dearest little one. Do not fret so much at our meetings. You truly have nothing to fear. I like you, Seraphin. There is next to nothing you could do to sway that into anything punishable."

I felt my eyes grow wide and my wings twitched. "You called me Seraphin."

She blinked, looking confused. "Is that not your name?"

"It is," I replied hastily, "It's just I hadn't told you-"

"And do you think," she said, sounding utterly bemused, "that I, the Goddess of Illusions, would need anyone to tell me anything?"