CHAPTER 56: SNACK-BASED FELONY

  Suryel had never been this happy to be tired.

  The kind of tired that lived deep in the muscles.

  Warm and earned.

  The sort that made her bones feel settled instead of hollow.

  Six months of lessons had rewired her in ways she could feel when she breathed, when she stood, when she moved through space without flinching.

  Training and sparring with Azriel until her shoulders burned with good, honest soreness.

  The kind that promised strength instead of fragility.

  His corrections were sparse but precise, each one landing exactly where it needed to, never more, never less.

  Michael’s drills followed.

  Relentless.

  Structured.

  Demanding precision over instinct even when instinct screamed louder.

  Especially then.

  He drilled discipline into her until her reactions slowed, sharpened, aligned.

  Until impulse learned to wait its turn.

  Leave that to Helel he joked—

  A rare instance.

  Gabriel drifted in and out of her weeks like a benevolent storm of logistics.

  Books stacked neatly where she would not trip over them beside the door to her Abode.

  Trinkets she didn’t remember mentioning but somehow wanted anyway.

  And snacks.

  Always snacks.

  Carefully chosen, replenished before she noticed the absence.

  Raphael’s checkups changed too.

  What had once been constant monitoring eased into quiet observation.

  Needles and negotiations became infrequent until it became a thing of the past.

  The Infirmary no longer felt like a reluctant nest she might be forced back into at any moment.

  She still passed through its halls.

  Still caught the sharp scent of antiseptic and aether burn.

  Still saw other bodies healing in various states of indignation.

  But it no longer swallowed her whole.

  And then there were the in-between moments.

  Roaming corridors with Helel.

  Who treated the Lapis Lazuli like it was personally designed for his entertainment.

  He cut corners that shouldn’t exist.

  Leaned over railings to shout greetings at people on entirely different levels.

  Dared Sentinels to race him and then cheated shamelessly.

  Sometimes he got them both admonished by Authority.

  Walking with Yael.

  Whose presence softened even silence.

  He matched her pace without comment.

  Adjusted his stride to match hers without word nor asking.

  Turned conversation into something breathable instead of interrogative.

  She wandered with him and re-learned which turns led to spaces that felt heavy.

  And which ones felt warm.

  Retracing the walls to where her feet belonged.

  Most of all, she understood what domain ownership actually meant.

  Not possession nor entitlement.

  It was placement.

  Belonging.

  Return.

  She hummed softly as she returned to her Abode that evening.

  Fatigue trailing behind her like a friendly shadow.

  There was a faint skip in her step she didn’t bother suppressing.

  No one here expected her to be small.

  The door parted at her approach.

  Familiar now.

  She tapped its corner instead of challenging it.

  Stepped inside without flinching.

  Progress.

  She set a book down and began wandering in her Abode again.

  The way she had learned to.

  Opening containers she once avoided.

  Drawers that no longer felt accusatory.

  Trunks that waited patiently.

  Shelves holding fragments of her she hadn’t examined closely yet.

  She lifted a folded dress from a chest and held it up against herself.

  She twisted it slightly to judge the fit.

  It used to be her favorite.

  Now it was too small.

  She snorted softly. “Rude.”

  Setting it aside, she continued exploring, fingers brushing over objects that felt quietly hers.

  They weren’t borrowed.

  They weren’t assigned.

  She remembered that they were things she held and chose to keep.

  “I wonder when I’ll learn to move between spaces.” Suryel said aloud, voice echoing lightly as she stared up at the ceiling.

  Galaxies drifted there, slow and deliberate, stars glimmering like friends. “Like, actually move. Not just pull.”

  A thought sparked.

  She paused mid-step. “Oh!”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  She turned slowly, eyes narrowing with interest rather than caution. “Oh, wait.”

  Helel’s voice surfaced in her memory, casual and offended back when they where under the black lake: It’s a transaction. You don’t steal from the local grocery.

  But her lessons with Azriel taught her, you can bring forth that which already belonged to you.

  Her gaze drifted toward the far wall, toward nothing in particular.

  “What if…” She murmured. “I’m not taking something new.”

  Her pulse quickened, not with fear but with curiosity sharpening into excitement. “But just… Relocating something I already own?”

  She lifted her hand.

  Closed her eyes.

  Her awareness reached past the Lapis Lazuli corridors.

  The Archive Tower.

  The clean geometry and careful rules of the Eternal realm.

  Past light.

  Past order.

  She pictured her old desk back on Earth.

  A drawer that stuck unless you pulled it just right.

  The familiar resistance of cheap wood grinding against metal rails.

  Inside it, a container she hadn’t thrown away— chocolate she had forgotten to finish.

  Her fingers tingled.

  Something grinning tugged back.

  Her breath almost caught but—

  “Suryel?”

  Yael’s voice cut through the space, gentle and curious.

  Her eyes flew open.

  Yael stood directly in front of her.

  Too close.

  They screamed at the exact same time.

  Suryel yelped and flailed backward, clutching her hand to her chest as her heart tried to escape her ribcage.

  Yael shouted in surprise, wings flaring half-open on instinct, feathers snapping the air before he forcibly reined them in.

  “WHO’S ATTACKING?” Helel came barreling down the corridor. His boots skidded as he slammed to a stop just inside her door, his sword already half-drawn.

  “WHERE IS IT? POINT ME!” He scanned her Abode with military precision and almost theatrical enthusiasm, ready to strike. When nothing lunged at him, he slowly straightened.

  “Then why were you screaming?” Helel asked, voice flattening as his confusion deepened into personal offense.

  “Nothing.” Suryel muttered immediately, shoving her hand behind her back. Her fingers were still twitching.

  A faint static crawled under her skin.

  Helel squinted at her.

  Then at Yael.

  Then back at her.

  “Oh!” His mouth curled. “You were self-studying.”

  “No I wasn’t.” She snapped too quickly. Internally she screamed.

  “Oh… ho?” Helel leaned in, delighted. “That was a guess, but your face just confessed.”

  Heat rushed from her cheeks to her ears.

  He pointed at her like he’d caught her stealing cookies. “Spill it, sunbird. What did you try to do?”

  “Stop calling me that!” She snapped. “And no. I am not telling you.”

  “RAPHAEL!” Helel shouted, already turning toward the corridor with a grin stretching ear to ear.

  Yael shot him a glare sharp enough to cut stone.

  “Okay, okay!” Suryel blurted, grabbing Helel’s arm. “Fine! I’ll tell you.”

  She hesitated, then rushed on before she could reconsider. “I was trying to get something from my room back on Earth. I thought the same rule applied. It’s my room. Not a store. Therefore I wasn’t stealing.”

  Helel’s smile vanished.

  The air shifted.

  Yael went still.

  Even the Abode seemed to quiet.

  “And… what were you trying to retrieve?” Yael asked carefully, his voice deliberately neutral.

  She stared at the floor.

  Answered quickly.

  Quietly.

  “Chocolate.”

  There was a beat.

  They almost didn’t hear it.

  Then Helel broke.

  He doubled over, hands on his knees, laughter started detonating out of him. “Oh no. no. no. Sunbird. You tried to break causality for sweets?”

  He straightened just long enough to gasp, wiping tears off his eyes. “Someone call Authority, we’ve got a real criminal here!”

  Yael pinched the bridge of his nose.

  Suryel crossed her arms, cheeks burning. “I was… just curious.”

  “You were reckless.” Yael corrected gently, tapping her head with two knuckles like a gavel. “Ask first before experimenting next time.”

  “If I wanted a snack, I would’ve asked Gabriel.” She muttered.

  “You could have.” Yael agreed.

  He took her hand without ceremony. “Come on then. My Abode. Helel, you may come too. But touch my plants and I will end you.”

  Helel raised a solemn hand and grinned. “I swear upon my chaos.”

  The walk took longer than she remembered.

  Five left turns.

  Three right.

  Yael opened the door and warmth spilled out.

  Not heat.

  Life.

  His Abode looked like a forest pretending to be a room.

  Plants hung from the ceiling, curled along shelves, clustered around shallow pools that breathed mist into the air.

  Light filtered through leaves in soft greens and golds.

  It was warm like newly pressed laundry.

  Suryel inhaled deeply.

  It smelled like lavender and mint.

  “It’s like a spa.” She said flatly. “Your room is a spa.”

  Helel snorted. “Called it! I had a feeling you’d say that.”

  “Sit where you’re like.” Yael shook his head and smiled, rolling his sleeves up.

  They sprawled out on two reclining sofa, looking around at the flouring fauna.

  Yael returned from behind a curtain of vines with three mugs of hot chocolate, steam curling lazily upward. “Here’s our beverage. Enjoy. Drink.”

  They did.

  Silence settled, comfortable and real.

  “I heard we get to visit the Star Bearing tree tomorrow…” Yael said eventually. “That’s actually what I went to your Abode to tell you.”

  Suryel perked up. “Really?”

  Helel frowned slightly, turning to look at her. “Do you think you’ll be fine?”

  She nodded at once. “I’ll try to be… You’ll both be there right?”

  “Yes.” Yael said. “And Azriel.”

  “Suryel, I will tell you this so you know in advance…” He hesitated to add, “It will involve Earth. And the past.”

  The warmth dimmed.

  “Why do you say that… like it’s a warning?” She asked.

  Helel muttered. “Because it is.”

  “Cause you might think of running back to your human family…” Yael met her gaze steadily. “You won’t be returning… As a human anymore.”

  There was silence.

  “Raphael noticed the aether feed isn’t sustaining you the same way.” Yael continued. “Notice how you’ve become snackish? We need to help you stabilize faster.”

  “I had a feeling...” She finally said, looking down to the steaming mug, trying to gather warmth from it through her palm. “So what’s the trip to Earth for?”

  Yael sighed before he answered again. “Metatron’s sending the three of us together to collect causal anchors from your past. Its to reintegrate you fully.”

  “How many?” Helel interrupted, head titling with thought.

  “Seven.” Yael’s eyes thinned and he held up seven of his fingers.

  Helel nodded once.

  “And if I don’t reintegrate in time?” Suryel asked.

  Yael tried to answer.

  He took a deep breath and looked at Helel, shaking his head that he cannot.

  Helel nodded and took her hand.

  His grip was warm, steady.

  “You’ll fragment.” He said simply. “A fate worse than what humans call as death.”

  There was a silence that felt like a cold draft entered the room.

  She raised the warm mug and took a sip.

  The chocolate tasted bitter.

  And Suryel understood.

  Finally—

  Why some doors were not meant to be opened.

  Just because you were able to reach the handle.

  Author’s Note:

  How convenient would it be 0w0 ?pocket dimensions?

  I would fill mine with plenty of chocolate, cheese and a variety of other snacks, jackets and cozy blankets.

  And definitely kitty churu *my cats meowed so I wrote this here* hahaha.