![]() Blood gushed out of the angel’s cheek as he writhed in pain while holding his hand against his face. Nicolette grabbed a scalpedl from the table and stabbed one of them in the face without hesitation. It’s no longer your daughter, lower life form -replied one of the “angels.” Nicolette rose from the capsule, panting. Remiel left before she could say anything. One of the angels took the newborn in his arms and handed her to Remiel. Push! Push! -repeated one of the angels.Īfter much effort, blood, sweat and tears, Nicolette gave birth to a baby girl. Nicolette began to feel the pain from childbirth a few seconds later. The capsule began to rotate until achieving a horizontal position. ![]() Another two angels pushed Nicolette inside. Next to it there was a table with surgical instruments. In the center there was a green and blue capsule. Remiel escorted her into a white room that smelled like disinfectant, a scent unrecognizable to Nicolette. In Welgaia, doors opened of their own accord and something Nicolette could only describe as living carpets carried boxes, furniture or, in this case, visitors. Remiel guided her to a “teleporter.” Normally it would have led to the altar room, where the chosen received the oracle, but right then it was programmed to send them to Welgaia, a city filled with angels flying all over the place and under a blanket of stars. We’re almost there -he said when Nicolette caught up to him. Nicolette climbed at her own pace, holding on to the handrail and, to Remiel’s surprise, without asking for help. There was a long staircase that Remiel flew over without issue. Anyone from outside the church was forbidden under regular conditions. Only priests, angels and the Chosen of Regeneration could enter. Martel’s temple was a chapel that looked smaller than it actually was. Nicolette thought his sacred aura was what kept them away and wondered if her baby would ever wield such power. The wild monsters fled in terror as soon as they made eye contact with the angel. The two of them kept going towards the temple. I don’t want to have the baby midway -replied Remiel. Excuse me, but could we go a little slower? I can’t keep up. Who would dare contradict the church of Martel, a symbol of prosperity? Nicolette began to walk behind Remiel, who flew close to the ground. A future free of Desians and without human ranchs. She did not once refuse, for she saw her child as symbol of hope, an horizon that outlined a better future. Remiel came back seven months later and took Nicolette to Martel’s temple. The child your wife is expecting is mine -he said. Who stood before them was not a Desian, but a man dressed in green, with blond hair long white wings. A shiver ran down his spine as knuckles knocked on the door. Frank thought the Desians were back at it. Whispers from the outside crept into the house. If the baby was a girl, her name would be Colette. If the baby was a boy, his name would be Frank, just as his father. Frank was worried that the persistent wounding of the mayor’s pride would eventually turn him into a gray person, but that was beyond his control.įrank greeted and kissed Nicolette, his wife, who had been bearing their child for some months. Everyone in Iselia knew that was a constant humiliation for the mayor, who had no choice but to bow his head and comply. In fact, a different one was in charge of the task every day, with the exception of the mayor, who was busy visiting the human ranch to make sure he met the Desian demands. Thus, the amount of food required to fee the entire population decreased over time, to the point in which one person alone could take care of the matter. Unless they themselves did not end at the farm as well, that is. When someone was taken to the human ranch, their relatives would usually keep their rooms as they were for a few months, even years sometimes but, eventually, they would face the truth: They would never see their loved ones again. It was a lot bigger in the past, but the constant Desian attack’s had eventually undermined the number of both houses and people. A small place, with barely half a dozen houses and twenty inhabitants at most. This is the Tale of one of them.įrank entered home after a hard day seeding the orchard in Iselia, the oracle’s village. However, the are occasions, exceptions within the norm, in which they struggle and fight until the very end. The parents of said chosen ones usually come to terms with that destiny, moved by their faith. Since four thousand years ago, the church of Martel has been in charge of both marriages and births, in its relentless search of a perfect vessel for its Goddess. It is said that the Chosen of Regeneration is born with a Cruxis crystal in hands.
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