Page 23 of The Hunchback
The power of the Seraphs swirled around me, enhancing me further. They were battling each other for dominance, to claim me as their own. Phoebus’s presence alone crushed any would-be competitor. And yet, his valiant efforts to form a link between us crashed repeatedly against the formidable bond that already existed between Kwazeem and me. But even the High Seraph’s divine aura failed to rival how my Light responded to my Fallen. Whatever doubt might have lingered in my mind that Kwazeem and I were the two halves of the same whole vanished in that instant.
Lightning coursed through my body. Its sizzling coils spiraled around my bare arms and legs, and sparked at my fingertips. I acted as a conduit, absorbing the energy from the air, the elements, the ebullient crowd, and the divine aura of the Elohim, before transferring it into the Well. It greedily took all that I offered, its rings lighting up at dizzying speed. Even the Orbs hovering about the Maidens’ hands crackled with energy.
Just as my power was reaching its apogee, a horrendous tearing pain sliced through my chest and my bond with Kwazeem was severed. I cried out, and lightning struck me dead center in the chest, at the same place the pain had originated. Arms wide spread, head thrown back, my body froze halfway through the swirl I’d been performing. Electric tendrils shot out from my hands, each beam connecting to the closest hovering Relay Orb on either side of me, then moving to the next until the Orbs and I were connected with a single continuous beam. The tower in the center of the Well grew taller by a couple of meters before shooting out a blinding ray of light into the early night sky.
The people roared their approval, a celebratory chant rising through their ranks.
The beam shooting out of my hands stopped abruptly, and I collapsed to my knees, head bowed and palms flat on the glowing surface of the Well. Although the sharp pain in my chest had faded, a hollowness persisted where my link with Kwazeem had connected us. Despite the loud ruckus of the overexcited citizens, the strong flapping sound of large wings reached me moments before the muscular arms of High Seraph Phoebus closed around me.
His aura slamming into me felt like a shot of adrenaline. With my connection to Kwazeem severed, Phoebus’s Light poured into me with the violence of a river racing through a broken dam. A part of me hungered to embrace its purity and let myself become infused with his divinity. But Kwazeem’s face flashed before my eyes, and I closed myself to the High Seraph, feeling as if basking in his aura would be like cheating on the one who had captured my heart.
Phoebus lifted me up, cradling me in his arms, a slight frown marring his angelic face. He once more attempted to pour his Light in to me, but I gently repelled it. It was unnecessary as his aura had already restored me from that moment of weakness.
“I’ve got you,” Phoebus said, holding me like a bride.
I was opening my mouth to say he could put me down, when I noticed Frollo, looking furious, gesturing at his personal guards to go take care of something. Following the direction of his signal, I realized some sort of commotion was happening amidst the audience a couple of hundred meters from the temple.
“What’s going on?” Phoebus asked Frollo.
Before he even answered, my stomach dropped to my feet, instinctively guessing what was coming next.
“Nothing important,” Frollo said through clenched teeth. “Just one of my staff abusing my kindness. My guards will handle it. But please, do not let this distract us from this historical performance by our Anointed,” he added with a forced smile, gesturing for us to head towards the table of honor.
“I… I can stand,” I said to Phoebus, my palm tingling from the divine aura seeping into my palm resting on his bare chest.
“Are you certain?” Phoebus asked, making no mystery of his reluctance.
My face heated as I nodded timidly. “Yes, thank you. Your aura has done wonders for me.”
He grunted his assent and, taking his sweet time, the High Seraph put me down, although his hand remained on my hip. Frollo’s eyes flicked down to look at the possessive way Phoebus held me, and his expression further darkened. While the Praetor’s feeling about it left me indifferent, I didn’t want to send the wrong signal to the Seraph.
Advancing nonchalantly by a couple of steps, I ‘accidentally’ moved out of his grasp and then raised a hand to wave at the crowd that cheered me and the Maidens. This should have been a moment of complete triumph, but my gaze remained glued to the guards quickly approaching the location where a cluster of people had parted, forming a small circle around whatever—whoever—had caused that commotion.
I barely noticed the five dignitaries reclaiming their fully charged Relay Orbs from the Maidens. The guards, each hooking one arm under one of Kwazeem’s, dragged him to the temple’s garden entrance under the mocking jeers of the crowd who no doubt assumed he’d overindulged in alcohol. Knowing how proud he was, that his body remained limp made me fear the worst. Guilt gnawed at me for having incited him to leave the safety of the temple’s grounds by giving him that costume. But I hated that he was essentially caged, wasting away at the edge of life, isolated and deprived of the most basic companionship, aside from his imps.
Phoebus’s burning hand on the bare skin of the small of my back snapped me out of my troubled musings. With a last bow to the crowd still cheering us on, I let the High Seraph guide me to the table of honor. Sitting between Phoebus and Frollo, I spent the next couple of hours putting up with both of their shameless efforts at courting me. Each of the other Elohim flying down from their perches to introduce themselves to me and gauge my potential interest in them gave me a semblance of reprieve. To think I had spent years dreaming of the day I would be honored to receive the undivided attention of an Elohim.
But a single thought overwhelmed me: how was Kwazeem?
An orgy of food continued to be served to us in endless waves under the glowing light of the Well. I picked at my plate, half-listening to my companions and giving one or two-word answers to the questions that actually registered in my distracted mind. Frollo relentlessly attempted to entice me into joining him on the tour of the peripheral cities for the Relay Orb ceremonies by hyping their beauty. In direct contrast, Phoebus seemed to gracefully concede defeat. Although he, too, praised the virtues of life on Elysium, it was factual and anecdotal, the same way a charismatic tour guide delivered his speech. I genuinely liked the High Seraph. If not for Kwazeem, he could have easily swept me off my feet.
As the feast slowly neared its end, the rings of the Well of Power receded back into the ground, and the reinforced glass cover closed over it. Only the narrow tower at its center and its beam of light remained erect, the glass cover fitting snugly around it. The tower would gradually lower into the ground as the city’s energy reserves started depleting, signaling the need for a new Festival.
“You have performed above and beyond all expectations,” Phoebus said, abruptly changing the subject. “I have never met a Vestal as powerful as you, Esmeralda.”
Blushing, my heart filling with pride, I lowered my gaze demurely. “Thank you, High Seraph. You flatter me.”
“It is not flattery, merely facts,” Phoebus replied with a shrug. “It has been years since anyone managed to fill the Well completely. You achieved that with a single Chant and a single dance. The only other time such an occurrence has been recorded was over a century ago, when the previous High Seraph Galleus and his Anointed consort, the Vestal Armina, presided over the Festival of Light. His bond to her enhanced her power a thousandfold. I had wished to claim a similar honor tonight, but I couldn’t link with you. So, how did you achieve such godly levels?”
My heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t tell him about Kwazeem doing for me what Galleus had done for his mate.
“Her power has grown since her arrival in Paris,” Frollo intervened, sparing me from answering. “Just like mine. As I mentioned to you earlier, High Seraph, she has steadily been enhancing me.”
The Praetor let the words hang between us, his implied meaning loud and clear for all. Under different circumstances, I’d have swiftly set the record straight. However, this served as a good enough explanation which also let me off the hook. I wanted to believe his interference had not just been motivated by self-preservation or possessiveness towards me, but out of protectiveness for Kwazeem. I still didn’t fully understand the dynamic between them, but a part of me wanted to believe he cared.
But then why has he still not gone to check on him?
“I see,” Phoebus said, his wings shifting with what I assumed to be annoyance. “I wanted to tempt you into letting me give you a personal tour of Elysium after the feast. Should I understand that such an offer would not be positively received due to prior engagements?”