"So this is how the world looks now," Luciel said, his voice echoing calmly in Emmanuel's mind as he took in the view that had been hidden from him for thousands of years.
"It's peaceful, right? Not like the chaos from the memories you just showed me," Emmanuel replied with a cheerful grin.
Luciel paused for a moment before answering. "It is peaceful, yes. But I suspect that's only because this little town lies far beyond the reach of politics and schemes."
What greeted Luciel, as he saw through Emmanuel's eyes, was a wide, open grassfield stretching out from the base of the mountain. It was the very mountain where Luciel had been sealed away for ages.
From the fragments of memory he had managed to recover, the land around the mountain hadn't always looked like this. It used to be barren, gray, and lifeless.
Now, it was vibrant. The grass swayed gently in the wind, dotted with wildflowers, and a small town stood in the distance, nestled quietly under the sky.
"This is where I grew up," Emmanuel said as he adjusted the strap of his bag, his voice light, though tinged with a little sadness. "It's not really the most exciting place… Most of the villagers are old, and I'm the only one around my age."
"That's unfortunate," Luciel replied. "Growing up without peers must've been difficult for a human child."
Emmanuel gave a small shrug. "Well, you grew up with your brothers and sisters, right?"
He spoke without thinking, remembering a flash of Luciel's memories—of angels with wings like sunlight, voices like music, and eyes filled with either awe or judgment.
But the silence that followed made him realize he may have touched on something painful.
"You don't have to—" Emmanuel started, ready to apologize.
"It's fine," Luciel cut in gently. "I was the first to be created. It took a long while before the next came. So in many ways, I did grow up alone too."
His voice didn't tremble or falter. It was steady, almost too steady, and Emmanuel couldn't quite tell what he was really feeling.
"Well, at least we have something in common now," Emmanuel said with a small smile, glancing up at the sky.
"You're taking all of this surprisingly well," Luciel remarked. "Either you have a very free-spirited soul, or there are a few loose screws rattling around in your head. I may need to keep an eye on that."
"Hey, that's a little harsh," Emmanuel replied, not offended in the slightest. "I just don't like stressing over things I can't control. It doesn't really help anyone."
Luciel went quiet for a moment, as if weighing his words. "I see. A composed and free-spirited soul, even after what you've just been through. Perhaps it really was fate that brought us together."
Emmanuel let out a thoughtful hum, then scratched the back of his head. "Can you, I don't know… take a phantom form or something? It's kind of weird having a full-on conversation with a voice in my head. People are gonna start thinking I lost it."
"If I want to manifest, I'll need to borrow your body's mana," Luciel answered. "The fragment I gave you should make that possible… with your permission, of course."
The boy raised an eyebrow. "You know, for an angel who once wiped out entire legions, you're strangely polite."
Luciel's tone didn't change, but Emmanuel could sense the faint trace of amusement behind it. "It's only proper. I'm occupying your body, after all. Even if I'm just a fading soul, it would be rude to act like I own the place."
Emmanuel laughed. "What a polite way of saying a parasite is asking for permission."
"I'll take that as your consent," Luciel said flatly.
"I didn't say yes yet!"
But it was too late.
A soft glow radiated from Emmanuel's chest, warm and steady like a rising sun. His heartbeat quickened as the light shimmered in front of him, gathering into the air like mist before taking form.
Little by little, a silhouette began to take shape.
A small, delicate, and far from what Emmanuel had imagined.
Floating in front of him was a miniature version of an angel.
He had round, chubby cheeks and a calm expression that made him look more adorable than divine. With six tiny wings, delicate like those of a swallow, fluttered gently behind him. His silver hair fell softly around his face, and his crimson eyes glowed with the same light that had once belonged to all powerful Luciel.
Emmanuel blinked, unsure of what he was seeing.
"…You've gotta be kidding me," he muttered. "This is your chosen form?"
Luciel floated there with the utmost seriousness. "This is a mana-efficient projection. My original form would probably burn your body from the inside out. Consider this… a necessary downgrade."
"Downgrade?" Emmanuel echoed, raising an eyebrow. "You look like a pocket-sized angel."
Luciel didn't respond immediately. He simply crossed his arms, well, folded them as best as he could in that miniature form.
"I was expecting something dramatic," Emmanuel went on, still staring.
"Like the body you previously had. Not... a plush toy."
"I could revert to a voice in your head, if that's what you prefer," Luciel said coolly.
"No, no, this is fine," Emmanuel said quickly, holding up his hands.
"Honestly, you're kinda growing on me. Like a divine mascot."
Luciel let out a quiet sigh. "You're impossible."
Emmanuel just grinned and began walking down the slope, letting the wind brush against his face as the small angel floated beside him.
"So," he said after a few steps, "what now? I mean, I have the fragment that you passed on me, and you're floating next to me like a guardian spirit. What am I supposed to do with all this? Is this the time for me to go to some grand city, and have an audience with the King?"
Luciel floated in thoughtful silence for a moment before answering.
"Just live your life for now," he said. "Sooner or later, trouble will come and find you since what you carry now will inevitably attract attention whether you like it or now… and not the kind you want."
Emmanuel's smile faded a little, but he didn't stop walking. "Thought so. Peace never lasts long in stories like this, does it?"
"No," Luciel said. "But that doesn't mean it has to be wasted."
"It would be wasted if I don't have a single clue on how to use this power you have given me," Emmanuel said.
"In your current state, your body wouldn't survive even a quarter of it," Luciel explained. "You'll need training. Probably at one of those human academies where they teach magic and combat."
Emmanuel turned his head slightly. "How do you even know about those?"
"The same way you saw my memories," Luciel answered. "I can see yours too. Although… most of it is just goats. And weeds. And more goats."
"Oh, come on," Emmanuel groaned.
Luciel didn't even blink. "Truly the life of a country bumpkin."
"Please shut up," Emmanuel muttered. Is this what it felt like to argue with someone who thought like him? No wonder the village elders always looked tired when they spoke to him.