"The moment my brother prayed near the fountain, he heard a whisper. He claimed that the voice was purer than air, cleaner than light. It called only one thing: his name."
Phillia closed her eyes. Her long golden hair shimmered in the ambient light of the sun as she spoke, her voice warm with reverence.
She raised her hand to her chest and let her own voice fall into mimicry – soft, wind-blown, holy.
"Michael."
With the gentle sound of water surrounding them, her voice captivated the audience—soft and serene, like a prayer carried on the breeze. It echoed the blessing her brother once received: quiet, pure, and full of reverence. The gentle sparks of golden starlight bloomed in the air around them–not summoned by spell, but by the memory of divine power. The whisper seemed to echo beyond her lips, like the voice of Heaven still lingered there.
"That…" she said, "was how my brother – the prince of Aetherion – was called into the light of the Absolute."
A hush followed. And she ended in a prayer.
"Princess Philia."
After professing faith, the folks gathered in the yard of the castle for their next walk. One of them sneaked out to have a talk to the princess of Aetherion who was still sitting on the rock near the fountain. She was amazed by the light from the princess, it was so pure, and she thought it was as pure as Holy Arch Angel Michael.
"I never thought that the Absolute would answer someone so clearly. Your kingdom is truly blessed. I wish to find such purity myself."
Phillia smiled and took her hands gently.
"We are both princesses," she said kindly, "please, just call me Phillia."
The angel beamed. "Then you must call me Seaphim, Phillia. I hope we become good friends during my trip here."
"I'd like that." Phillia nodded.
However, the time was short. A cloaked angel from the royal guard approached quietly – her longtime companion and personal escort from the Holy Army.
"However, Seraphim. You may go to the hall in the castle. The cleric Benedict will tell you what my brother liked in the hall and how he always told the sacred tales. I'm afraid that I will not be able to join the next section, my duty is calling."
Seraphim nodded with a smile, and she returned to the folks in the hall.
"My princess is always charming."
"Thamiel."
"I say the truth with my honor of the Holy Guard, my princess."
She poked gently his chest covered with the golden armor.
"Shut the formality, you're my friend."
"But the duty is calling, princess."
She sighed. The light in her eyes dimmed when she turned at the southern where the tower stood.
"Then, let's go."
—
The Aethertower, the defense tower, soared over the realm like a blade of light. Phillia stood before its tall crystal window, her eyes cast towards the desolate land beyond Aetherion's walls.
The good news spread so fast to the entire realm of light. The call of Michael becoming the Arch Angel made the rest of the beings in the realm, angels and the other holy creatures, forget that Aetherion was the sacred fortress to protect the realm from the others' shadow at bay. This kingdom laid on the edge of the realm, and it was a sacred duty to protect inside the walls.
And there were wars every time as the other sides never knew how to stop the war.
"War seems endless." she murmured. She never could hide her feelings when she saw the dry land far beyond the walls. Once–the green fields had ruined to ash. Once, it was a bright forest, and now it was pale, leafless, but steady. The fire from the dark realms slowly crawled beneath the surface of the world, which truly targeted the wall to burn.
She never understood why the war existed at all. Why something so senseless and cruel had to bring pain to any beings, especially to angels like her. Because angels only could defend, not destroy. They could fight back against the shadow, yes–but only because their very nature stood in opposition to it. Light did not attack, not fall. And neither the Absolute. But… could it be ended by the light?
"The shadow won't break us," Thamiel said, "The Absolute has blessed us. And the proof stands with your brother. That is enough."
Phillia did not answer right away. She only stared at the horizon where the light and dark met.
"Faith is strength." she murmured.
"Princess?"
Phillia turned to Thamiel, finding herself staring at the horizon back again.
"I'm sorry. The war indeed brings the dark inside somehow. And…" her voice was low, "my faith isn't as strong as my brother. I feel so sad to see our armies injured from the battle."
Perhaps she was not like Michael with all his might and unwavering courage against the dark beyond the walls. The heavy burdens in Philia's heart could be the reasons she did not get the honor like her brother did. There was something in her heart, very uneasy, heavy, and… somehow fading her light in.
The war… made her.
And though her dream remained–to rise as one of the Arch Angels–she stayed for the soldiers instead, stayed to comfort them, to bless them, and to carry their wounds like her own.
"Princess…"
Philia looked at Thamiel with a pure, quiet smile. She reached out and gently took his hands in hers.
"Let's pray."
She closed her eyes. A soft breath escaped her lips as her light began to bloom—radiant and warm, flowing from her body in waves. It wrapped around them like a gentle wind, cleansing the burden that lingered in her chest.
"But deliver us from evil."
As the final word left her lips, the light faded. The glow softened, dimming into a calm warmth. And a grateful smile rose to her face.
Thamiel watched her with quiet awe. No matter how burdened she became, Philia always found her way back to the light.
"Your light energy is always magnificent, Princess. Like your brother, you may inherit the same blessing."
"We all are blessed, Thamiel. You praise me too much."
But it was true for him. As a guard, he was totally aware of her power. Her light was so pure and bright than any angels he ever met, unless Michael. She might not be aware of that yet, she would find out how special she actually was.
Perhaps, it was her devotion that made her shine brilliantly.
"It is true, Phillia." He said, letting his tone soften into something more casual. "I shall not lie."
Phillia could not help but smile. No one disliked a compliment, even angels, and the Absolute. They sang songs to give glory to Them, praising Their all creations.
But then, a bell rang, clear and urgent. It was not from the sanctuary, but from the main gates, signaling that the caravans of the Holy Guards had arrived in the kingdom.
Hearing that, Phillia released her hands from Thamiel's gently. Her eyes rose towards the tower peak, and without any words, she ran.
The wide open platform in the peak of Aethertower had waited for her. The sun was at the peak as well, welcoming her above and helping her see everything down below: the caravans passing through the gate. She knew that the caravans sent were seven in total, and slowly she counted it repeatedly from above while her heart pumping nervously.
Seven. There were seven caravans! They all were safe!
"They all return safely, Thamiel." She said gladly.
Her wings started to open, spreading widely to show their white and pure feathers glowing under the sun. They were larger, even twice larger than normal wings of angels. And they were shining, releasing the purest light power from the peak of the tower. No one would not notice her presence by that light, and they were happy for the princess welcoming them from the war.
"Let's welcome them, Thamiel." And she jumped down.
Her wings flapped so strong, delivering the messy wind around, but someone she could move in the sky elegantly. She flew like a feather between the soft clouds, breaking through it like the real Arch Angel coming down from the sky. But she did not land, she floated in the air above the soldiers of light, weaving to her gratefully.
She gave her hands above, and started to pray,
"The wounded may heal. The tired may rise. The lost may find their way home…"
As her final word drifted into silence, the sky responded. A brilliant light cascaded downward, warm and golden—a blessing from the Absolute, channeled through Philia's light. It shimmered over the soldiers like a divine promise fulfilled.
"All hail, Princess Philia of Aetherion!"
She descended slowly, wings aglow, and landed among them with a soft smile. She offered her thanks, her words kind and sincere, granting them permission to rest before the next war came.
Joy flickered in their eyes. Relief, even peace. For a moment, the kingdom basked in light. Phillia could not hide it. Their real joy today became the light for the kingdom, even the dark war haunted them from behind the walls. It is...
Faith.
The shadow might not stand inside, these Holy Guards always brought light back from the war they were forced to attend. It was all because to defend everyone, the family, and the light. They had passed through the darkest night ever, and returned and stood taller with honor in their hearts and light still clinging to their wings.
Just like her brother said,
"Blood everywhere, presenting sacrifice. It must be paid, even the Absolute sacrifice a lot for us. We all are blessed in Their Names every time, so no more fear of the dark."
And she tried to understand that, tried to believe it. She had to-no. She did.
But as her gaze drifted once more to the edge of the horizon, where light met ash… She still could not look away.