chapter 2:

necromancy exams should come with a refund policy

The academy's library is an architectural marvel; endless rows of towering shelves, enchanted lanterns hovering in midair, and books that occasionally rearrange themselves when no one is looking.

The whole place hums with quiet magic, a sanctuary of knowledge and silence.

Which naturally means that I don't belong here.

Unfortunately, I'm failing Intermediate Necro-Etiquette, and my professor has strongly suggested (read: outright threatened) that I either study or start preparing for a lifetime of ghost-related incidents.

So, here I am.

Except, I don't even make it two minutes before I see something significantly more interesting than my textbook.

Across the grand reading hall, seated at one of the long oak tables, is none other than Amaris' little angel.

Well... maybe not little. They're like, the opposite of little, if anything. It's hard to miss.

Their glowing aura might be subtle to the average eye, but I'm not the average eye. Their presence is sharp, polished, ethereal. Clad in clothing that shimmers like woven light. Posture so perfect it looks painful. I don't think they even notice the way the world naturally clears a respectful path around them. People instinctively move their chairs a little further, keep their voices lower. Even the floating lanterns dim slightly near them, as if afraid to shine too brightly in their presence.

Beautiful. Tragic.

I grab my book, abandon my table immediately, and head straight for them.

"Fancy meeting you here," I say with a lilt in my voice, sliding into the chair across from them.

The angel doesn't react immediately. They finish writing something (elegant script, obviously, because of course even their handwriting is perfect. I'm beginning to think Celeste was a bit unfair when she created us) before slowly looking up at me with their unnaturally bright eyes with the expression of someone who has already made peace with my inevitable, annoying presence.

"You followed me," they say impassively, and I have to fight back the pins and needles on my skin from just being close to them. Only a few days away from them, and I'd already forgotten that they're one of the rarest, most powerful creatures to ever grace the universe with their presence.

Angels only bow to Celeste.

So aside from Keepers of the River of Souls, ghosts also don't show up around angels. Ever. Their life force is too strong.

"Wrong. I followed my academic aspirations," I say, gesturing to the open textbook in my hands. I'm lucky my voice doesn't shiver like my spine when the air around them begins to hum. "It just so happens that my academic aspirations have excellent taste in study partners."

The angel exhales slowly through their nose, a subtle, elegant sigh of suffering. They return to their notes, seemingly deciding that if they ignore me hard enough, I'll disappear.

I will not. They should know better by now, really.

I prop my chin on my hand and grin at them. "So...what are you working on? Angel law? Smite schedules? A celestial complaint form about my continued existence?"

"The Ethics of Divine Intervention," they reply, without looking up.

"Sounds thrilling. Bet you have a whole chapter on me."

This time, they do look up, albeit briefly. "No divine force would waste a chapter on you."

I gasp, placing a hand over my heart. "Oh! That was almost mean! I'm so proud of you."

"It was factual."

"Mean factual," I correct, but they're already returning to their book. This is going to take some work. Although, usually it's impossible to get even a normal response out of them. So this is progress, really.

I flip open my own textbook, pretending to read while mostly stealing glances at them. Unfortunately, I get about three paragraphs in before I start struggling. Intermediate Necro-Etiquette is so dull. And the terminology? Terrible. Who even decides what's proper and improper when handling ghosts? Most of them don't even care!

After what I assume is an appropriate amount of time for subtlety, I tap the edge of their book. "Hey. Quick question."

"No."

"Um, rude? You don't even know what I was going to ask."

"Is it academic?"

"Yes."

"Is it about the material in your book?"

"...Yes?"

They look at me. I look back. My lips twitch when their eyes begin to narrow.

They sigh again.

"Fiiine," I admit. "It's about you."

"Then I retract my previous offer of assistance."

"Well, that's harsh," I mutter. "Fine. I'll just sit here. In silence. Like a respectable scholar."

The angel before me nods approvingly and returns to their book.

I last forty seconds.

"So, about your wings—"

"Soren."

If I was a mortal being, I would have just about stopped breathing right this moment from the sound of my name leaving their mouth. "I just think it's unfair that you get to look all divine and untouchable while I have to suffer the plight of mortal beauty."

"Soren."

"Do angels date? Like, hypothetically speaking. Asking for a friend."

They close their book.

I brace myself.

"Your presence," they say, calm and patient, "is an affront to the sanctity of this space."

"Oh no," I whisper, delighted. "I'm offending the library."

"You're offending me."

"Aw, angel. That means you actually acknowledge my presence."

They inhale sharply. Before they can verbally smite me, however, a shadow falls over the table. Of course, I think. Her angel is sitting right before me. I should have known she'd be close by.

"You do realize this is a library, right?" Amaris deadpans, setting a thick tome onto the table with a dull thud. "That means quiet, fae."

Amaris, being a rare breed Healer, is more vulnerable to spiritual exhaustion than any other creatures. Forever driven by a desire to help no matter what. Sometimes at the cost of her own well-being.

Hence, the guardian angel.

I blink up at her, all innocence. "I am quiet."

She levels me with a look that could shrivel crops. It's admirably vile for a Healer. "I heard you from two aisles over. And so did half the library."

"Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad—"

"You knocked over a stack of books," she continues, unimpressed. "Argued with the librarian. And now you're harassing my angel."

"Harassing? That's a strong word." I feign offense, placing a hand over my heart. "I told you, I'm simply appreciating celestial beauty from a respectful distance."

The celestial beauty in question makes a noise that is not appreciation.

Amaris doesn't look impressed either. "I'm not having this conversation with you again..." I tilt my head and raise an eyebrow in question when she trails off. She blinks a couple times, then frowns, lips twisting like she ate something bad.

Before I can ask if she's about to throw up directly on me, she sighs and reaches over to push my hair off my forehead, where I know a giant bump right above my eyebrow is staring back at her.

My mouth drops open in surprise. "How the—"

"I'm a Healer, Soren. I can quite literally taste your pain."

"Okay, I believe my expression is stuck somewhere between impressed and super disgusted right now, can you confirm?"

She rolls her eyes and brushes the tip of her index finger in a tender circle around the injury, and a tingle makes its way from my forehead down to my cheeks and then my neck, settling somewhere in my chest.

"You know, I'm beginning to really think you actually like me," I murmur, touching my now-flat forehead. She swats my hand away and then flicks me directly on the spot she just healed. "Ow! You little—"

"You earned it," She slides into the chair across from me, flipping open the massive book she just deposited. The text inside is cramped and ancient, full of diagrams I don't care to decipher.

"What's that?" I ask, leaning in with my hand still covering my forehead where she's probably left a brand new bruise.

"A reference for my research project."

"Sounds riveting."

"Sounds like something you're not going to help with."

"That's rude," I say, offended. "I could be a great help."

"You could be a great disturbance at best. Like you are now."

The angel beside her exhales again, the weight of their judgment practically pressing down on me. I don't mind. Actually, I find it kind of fascinating how unimpressed they are with me. Their whole celestial presence, pristine robes, and that perfect, unshakable composure...it's like they were sculpted from the concept of dignity itself.

"You're staring," they note, not looking up from their book.

"Can you blame me?"

"Yes. Stop."

Amaris smothers a smirk behind her hand. "I keep telling you, Soren. They don't like you."

"That's where you're wrong," I say, leaning back in my chair. "It's only a matter of time before they warm up to me."

The angel finally lifts their gaze, eyes like burning stars, expression carved from divine patience. "You can give up now or in a million years."

"See?" I grin at Amaris. "We're already past indifference. That's progress."

Her angel, deciding that acknowledging me any further would be beneath them, returns their attention to the book in front of them. Which is fine. I can work with a challenge.

"Maybe if you stopped hitting your head against things so often, you'd be a little less insufferable," Amaris groans, dragging a hand down her face. "What was it this time, anyway?"

"Was trying to avoid running into a ghost. I swear, it's like they want me to go through them."

She blinks at me like she's waiting for me to continue. When I don't, she looks even more confused. "Well... what's the problem? Just do that if they're in your way. It's not like they can possess non-humans. And keep your voice down before all of us are thrown out of here, please."

"It's not about that, okay, it just feels weird. Like... I can see them, you know? It's weird."

"You're weird." She gives up on the subject after that with a shake of her head like I'm the biggest mystery of the immortal world. "But whatever. Shouldn't you be in class?"

I scoff with another wave of my hand. "Necro-Etiquette isn't real."

"It is real. And you're failing."

"It's more of a suggestion than a class, really."

"A required suggestion," she corrects. "That you need to pass."

"Semantics."

She sighs and shakes her head, muttering something about fae and their nonsense under her breath. Her angel still looks like they'd rather be anywhere else, but they haven't smote me yet, which means this day is going great.

And then, just as I'm basking in my minor victories, someone clears their throat behind me.

I turn in my seat and find myself face to face with a very unamused Varek.

"Soren."

I smile sweetly. "Varek. Have you tried walking? Normally? Like the rest of us? It's quite refreshing. All this teleportation business will make you dizzy."

He stares at me like he's mentally calculating how much energy it would take to throw me out of this chair. Knowing Varek, it wouldn't take much at all. "What are you doing?"

"Studying," I say matter-of-factly.

He looks at the closed book in front of me. Then at Amaris, whose expression very clearly says he's lying. I resist the urge to wave an aggressive gust of wind directly in her face. Her angel would probably fold me like a book and shove me at the very back of one of these shelves if I did.

Varek sighs, long-suffering. "You have detention. Again."

"Ah." I tilt my head like I just found out about it. "That is unfortunate."

"Right." He gestures toward the exit. "Let's go."

I groan, dramatically flopping against my chair. "But I was learning."

The angel, without looking up, turns a page. "No, you weren't."

I point at them. "Et tu, Brute?"

Amaris snorts.

Varek, already done with me, simply grabs the back of my collar and hauls me out of my seat.

"Gently," I wheeze, feet scrambling against the floor as he drags me along. "I'm delicate."

"You're insufferable." His grip doesn't loosen. If anything, I think he considers tightening it. "You were causing a scene. I saw the librarian move in your direction. Do you actually enjoy getting in trouble?"

I place a dramatic hand over my heart. "I was simply engaging in scholarly discourse."

"You were openly challenging an angel's patience," Amaris corrects, unimpressed as she follows beside us. The said angel walks just behind her, their unreadable gaze making my ears burn in a way I refuse to acknowledge.

"Semantics," I say breezily, adjusting my collar as Varek finally releases me when we step outside the library. I wonder if making eye-contact with all angels feels this unnerving or if Amaris' angel is just a little... special.

"You can't help yourself, can you?" Amaris asks, arms crossed.

"Not when they look that interesting," I reply, eyes flicking to where her angel stands, still lingering in the doorway. They are unreadable as always, an enigma wrapped in celestial brilliance. I have the overwhelming urge to crack them open like a puzzle box.

I'm just afraid it's got nothing to do with the natural mischief that comes from being a faerie.

"They don't want to be bothered," Amaris warns, sensing the direction of my thoughts.

"Remember that thing I said about celestial beauty and respectful distance?" I ask, ever the picture of innocence.

Varek sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You are incapable of respect or distance, Soren."

"Not true. I just have a flexible definition of both."

"You have a death wish," he mutters, clearly debating if he should bother arguing further.

I grin. "Maybe. But isn't that what makes life fun?"

Varek gives me a look of pure exhaustion before turning on his heel. "Go to class, Soren."

"Walk me there?" I ask, because annoying him is my favorite pastime.

"No."

"What if I get lost?"

"You've been here for years."

"What if I get kidnapped?"

"No one wants you."

I gasp, clutching my chest. "How dare you."

"Go to class. If you decide to skip again, remember, I will know. Goodbye." Varek strides off without another glance, and Amaris soon follows, leaving me to watch their retreating forms with a satisfied smirk.

It's a shame her pretty angel doesn't even spare me a second glance before disappearing as well.

But that just makes me all the more determined to make them look next time.

a/n

i forgot about this earlier, so here's some light background on the characters so no one gets confused -

so soren is a faerie, and they're known to be chaotic, mischievous, and often deceptive creatures. they are often tied to the elements and the natural world! so they tend to have a strong bond with forests, rivers, flowers, etc. it's said that if you give fae your real name, you're giving them power over you. 

amaris is a healer with celestial ancestry, which makes her not just incredibly rare, but also vulnerable. so creatures like her are 'assigned' a guardian angel of sorts to protect them. like i mentioned earlier in the chapter, they can be super vulnerable to spiritual exhaustion or emotional tolls. her and soren aren't exactly friends, but healing the injured is like breathing to her.

varek is... practically grim reaper but with bureaucracy. as a keeper of souls, his duty is to protect and guide them. since he has the knowledge of the afterlife and power to influence souls, ghosts tend to hide from him. 

if you guys have any other questions you can ask in the comments!

thank you for reading ♡

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wc: 5278 (2860 + 2418)