The Reality Of Nightmare (BxB)

CHAPTER XXIX: THE PROMISE OF THE PAST

CHAPTER XXIX: THE PROMISE OF THE PAST

"Not that I don't care about you
Just that things got so complequees
I me somebody cute and funny
Got each other and that's funny."
- Lady Gaga, Eh Eh (Nothing Else I Can Say)

"The stars; they are just like you, Hadraniel," My mother said to me, giving me a motherly smile.

My mother's smile was the one that kept me at bay and whenever she smiled at me, I'd feel calmness in my heart. She was like that to me, always. She was the one who revealed to me that I was assigned to be the Angel of Love. She said to me "sooner you'll realize what it truly means" because at four years of age, I was sure that I didn't have any idea of what that meant. I was just a four-year-old kid yet I knew that it was going to be hard for me when I grew up and that I had to be the best as my parents were expecting me to be the best. My father was a King, and my mother was a Queen. In the future they would step down, and I was going to walk across the sea of angels parting, giving me a path to walk, until I reach the throne and claim the crown and be the next ruler of the angels for God knows how long.

Frantic steps could be heard as well as the strong flaps of wings outside; I didn't have any idea what was going on. When I looked up into my mother, her smile was gone out of her face. Her lips were pressed together tightly, into a thin line, and her eyes were hard and piercing as if her eyes would sort of blast a laser beam from it. Her posture became stiff.

We were at the hall, just a few meters away from their throne. I didn't have anyone to play with. Plus I knew that I was pretty much aware that I was the heir, the next King in line after my father. The toys I needed to play were swords and other weapons that kids shouldn't know if he or she is still a mere child. But I did.

When I reached three years old, though I barely remembered, I had a trainer who began teaching me about weapons. At first it was just getting familiar with the weapons as, according to the trainer, I was "going to wield it someday like a King would". I believed him and was eager to know more about it. I thought it was just like a toy, like a plastic sword – easy to carry, easy to wield, easy to throw. But it wasn't. When the trainer had me carry a sword – a silver, its edge glinting dangerously, sword, the hilt was metal and gold, made by the smith angels, who forged it probably a million times, it fell down immediately out of my hands. It was too heavy, too much, for me to carry and I remembered the disappointment etched on his face. Though he tried to fight it, it still showed. It was written all over his place. I knew that I had to push myself further just to make everything work for me, in my favor. Because I was sure as hell I didn't want to disappoint my parents now or in the future, or ever. At all.

An angel, who looked so young yet had a hard gaze in his eyes – you could tell that this angel had been through so much, obtained some much experience, enough to be considered as mature, came barging into the hallway. "My Queen," the angel bowed down to show some respect, his tone became gentle yet you could still hear the urgency in his voice. His eyes flickered to me then back to my mother, who merely shook his head. "There are things that require your attention outside, My Queen."

My mother nodded, her posture stiff as she gazed back at the warrior angel. My mother turned to look at me, and her motherly expression was now gone, replaced with something different – it was hard. I knew that look. It was her battle face look. "Hadraniel, I want you to stay inside your room, okay? There are guards that will be guarding you there. There are things that I and your father need to take care of. I'll be back as soon as I can." Without really understanding anything, I nodded like a good child I was. "Good boy, Hadraniel. You'll become a great King, better than your father, in the future." She said to me with so much admiration that it made my heart swell with happiness.