A name of Fallens Stars

Her legs trembled slightly as she climbed the marble steps one by one.

Each step brought her closer to the door that would change her life forever.

Her heartbeat grew louder, sending a warm sensation through her entire body.

"So the time has truly come, hasn't it..." she whispered softly.

She pushed the magnificent gold-engraved door. With one small push, it swung open wide.

The girl gazed in awe at the sight before her. The vast hall was bathed in golden light that filled every corner. Soft melodies echoed through the air, as if tailored to the mood of every angel within.

She walked slowly but steadily past endless marble pillars that towered so high she had to tilt her head back to see their peaks.

On each pillar were carvings telling the stories of the world. One pillar depicted creation, while another told of the first war between Heaven and Hell, and the tale of the fallen angels. She counted twelve Pillars of Life in total, each with its own story, lined neatly on the left and right, forming a path toward the main podium.

Her steps halted at the center of the hall, facing the stage before her. Her diamond-blue eyes gazed at the figures there with pride and familiarity.

The Elders. The 14 Archangels who had helped her reach this point. They sat upon thrones made of pure white marble that radiated light. Behind each throne, names and titles were engraved. The inscriptions were made with golden ink that emitted warmth she could feel even from a distance.

Their white wings were folded neatly behind their bodies. Fourteen Torches of Life floated beside each throne, illuminating their faces with pure blue flames that radiated peace.

One of the Elders stood and walked to the center of the podium. Upon it lay a golden scroll bound with silver flame-like vines.

"Seraphiel, congratulations on your ascension to Stage II Angel," said the Angel, smiling warmly.

Seraphiel's heart beat twice as fast as before. She had truly reached this level after fifty years of training. Her chest tightened with pride. She looked at the Elder and answered firmly, though her voice came out slightly higher than usual.

"Thank you, Archangel Raziel!"

Raziel smiled with pride, then signaled to two other angels who immediately moved to follow his command.

Seraphiel watched them walk toward a giant glass cabinet standing on the left side of the hall. Its entire surface was transparent, revealing rows of chests stored inside. On its left and right, waterfalls of life flowed endlessly from above, their light reflecting off the glass surface and filling the room with golden radiance.

Every step they took was accompanied by a gentle breeze carrying the scent of life and spring. The ceiling above blended with white and golden clouds that merged into an endless dome.

They stopped right before the cabinet. It stood over fourteen cubits tall, forcing Seraphiel to look up slightly to see its top. Behind the glass, swords rested peacefully inside their respective chests, waiting for their owners.

One angel opened the cabinet door, while another retrieved a long chest from among the storage rows. That chest held the soul-sword that would become Seraphiel's.

They carried it out and walked back toward Seraphiel.

Seraphiel's eyes grew slightly misty as the angels brought the long transparent chest forward. Its edges were made of linen wood—a type of wood so thin yet strong, plated with gold, that only grew in Heaven's gardens. This wood never withered and never burned.

"This is the most important moment of your coronation ceremony, Seraphiel. This sacred sword has been waiting for you ever since you first showed your light in this world," said Raziel, his voice firm yet gentle to the ear.

Light radiated from within the chest—bright, hot, and full of power.

Seraphiel instinctively raised her hand to shield her eyes from the glare.

When the light dimmed, Seraphiel finally saw it.

A sword with a blue crystal blade that shimmered, reflecting her face even from a distance. Its hilt was silver, adorned with engravings of celestial script that moved like flowing water. At the center of the blade, there was an empty engraving.

"Touch it," said Raziel.

Seraphiel stepped forward. Her hand still trembled as she reached out slowly. The tip of her finger touched the sword's hilt.

Instantly, a change occurred.

White light flowed from the sword—warm and gentle along her fingers. Its gleam merged with a golden-blue hue, then enveloped the entire hall in soothing warmth.

The center of the blade, once empty, began to move. Light gathered there, forming stroke after stroke until finally becoming a series of letters.

S E R A P H I E L

Seraphiel stared at her name now engraved upon the blade.

A warm vibration spread from the sword throughout her body. Its blue glow grew brighter, merging with the aura radiating from within her.

The sword was not merely a weapon.

It was a reflection of her soul—and a marker that Seraphiel had received her duty and responsibility.

"This name will be engraved forever," Raziel said firmly. "This sword can only be drawn and wielded by you. No one else can use it, for this sword is the reflection of its owner's soul."

Seraphiel nodded solemnly and accepted the sword. She fastened it at her waist carefully.

"I-I will protect it."

Raziel nodded, then unrolled the golden scroll and read aloud:

"By the mandate of Heaven, and in recognition of Angel Seraphiel's dedication, the first mission is hereby granted as proof of responsibility.

Angel Seraphiel is tasked to proceed to the Ashviel Forest to secure the ancient artifact that serves as the heart of the forest's magical life, and bring it back to Heaven for purification."

Seraphiel listened carefully, memorizing every detail read aloud.

"I, Seraphiel, accept this mission and will make Heaven proud!" she said cheerfully and confidently, drawing smiles from the Elders.

"Of course, Sera. We have believed in you and been proud of you from the very beginning," Raziel concluded, returning the scroll.

After the reading of her first mission concluded, Seraphiel stepped forward and received blessings from the Elders. One by one, they placed their hands upon her head and gave their blessings for the mission she was about to undertake.

Even after the coronation ceremony ended, pride still enveloped Seraphiel. She walked out of the hall with light steps.

She had already decided to complete this mission as best she could.

Along the way, she met other angels. They exchanged greetings.

The Junior Angels who were not currently undergoing training seemed curious about the coronation process. They followed Seraphiel, asking various questions.

"How does it feel to be crowned a Stage II Angel?" asked one of the four Junior Angels walking beside Seraphiel.

They followed her toward Heaven's library. Seraphiel wanted to read some records and investigate the Ashviel Forest before embarking on her first mission.

"It's indescribable," Seraphiel answered, flashing her signature grin.

Indeed, she herself didn't know how to explain what she felt. The feeling was too grand, filling her chest to the point where words felt insufficient to describe it.

The Junior nodded in understanding, then the other three began asking questions.

"Is only one angel crowned at a time? What about the others?"

"The coronation is held every five months to maintain balance and ensure every angel receives an equal opportunity. You still have time to keep training," she advised, ruffling the hair of the Junior standing closest to her.

"Do we have to train hard?"

"Will we also get Soul Swords later?"

"What does a Soul Sword feel like? Is it light? Is it heavy?"

"Do we have to keep training for fifty years to reach Stage II?"

Question after question came one by one, making Seraphiel laugh. She remembered when she herself was just as enthusiastic asking the Elders.

"Alright, I'll answer your questions one by one," she replied patiently.

They had arrived at Heaven's library. Seraphiel opened the transparent door before her. With one small touch, the door opened, revealing a vast room with spiral staircases connecting one bookshelf to another.

The books were arranged based on the information they contained, while each section of the library was distinguished by the type of wood used on its shelves.

Seraphiel and her four Juniors climbed the golden staircase that spun gently and glowed upon sensing someone's presence. They headed toward the section containing information about forests.

The staircase stopped spinning precisely when they reached a shelf made of old topaz wood—pale blue with a surface that shimmered like topaz gemstones. That shelf marked the boundary with the next section.

Seraphiel took a book about forests and sat down. The Juniors immediately gathered around her.

"Go on, explain!" they urged enthusiastically.

"Alright, alright."

Seraphiel opened the book about the forest.

"Do you have to train hard? Of course. Missions are undertaken with responsibility, and responsibility must be trained through small things."

She turned the page.

"Then, does the Soul Sword feel light or heavy? Very light. The sword is a reflection of your existence. Every angel who reaches Stage II will receive their own Soul Sword."

Several Juniors nodded as they listened.

"Now, do you have to train for fifty years to reach Stage II? Not necessarily. You can propose how long you wish to train, and the Elders will adjust the training to match your abilities."

"Oh! I see. Then why did you choose fifty years? Why not twenty?"

"Or ten?"

"Or five?"

Seraphiel laughed again. No wonder the Almighty cherished small souls like the Juniors. They were still pure and full of life.

"Because I thought the number five was a symbol of grace, and fifty years was sufficient time for my training."

They nodded in understanding.

Nothing was truly hidden in Heaven. Angels could know each other's information, including how long they had trained. However, they still respected each other's journeys and only asked if they truly wished to know more.

Seeing Seraphiel beginning to focus on her book, they exchanged glances. Without needing words, they understood one another.

"Alright, Angel Seraphiel. Thank you for answering our questions!"

"Good luck!"

They waved before walking away, leaving Seraphiel alone in the library.

Seraphiel smiled softly. The warmth from that brief interaction still lingered in her chest, but she quickly refocused on the book before her. She opened the page about the Ashviel Forest and began marking several important sections.

"The Ashviel Forest," she read softly.

"Is a forest located in the western region, near human settlements and the elven race. After a great war between humans and elves lasting over three decades, the forest was cursed for becoming the center of territorial disputes between the two nations."

Seraphiel paused briefly, then continued.

"No life can survive within it. To maintain balance and prevent the curse's energy from spreading to surrounding areas, the elven nation established an ancient artifact called the Rising Sun. This artifact functions to absorb the curse's energy from within the forest and must be renewed every thousand years to prevent it from threatening surrounding life."

Her finger followed the next line.

"The artifact is renewed every thousand years in Heaven, then returned to the Ashviel Forest to maintain balance."

Seraphiel closed her book slowly.

She nodded in understanding, but the weight on her shoulders grew heavier.

The artifact was not merely an ancient object.

It was the pillar of balance for a forest cursed for decades.

Seraphiel took a deep breath.

"Alright," she murmured firmly. "I will succeed and make Heaven proud of me! Ashviel Forest, here I come!!!"

She closed the book and returned it to its shelf.

Seraphiel then walked out of the library with a burning spirit. Her steps were light, her chest full of pride, and her determination grew stronger.

Her first mission had begun.