Miracle

Pt. 4

"I never thought something like this would happen again," Victor said, his voice a low murmur that seemed to echo down the impossibly long corridor, "but anything is possible." He continued to walk, his form radiating an ancient, unwavering authority, and I followed closely behind, my own thoughts a whirl of apprehension.

He stopped abruptly before an imposing, dark wooden door, its surface intricately carved with symbols I didn't recognize. No handle, no visible lock. Victor simply raised a hand, and with a soft click, the heavy door slowly, silently swung inward.

Inside, the sheer scale of the room stole my breath. Millions upon millions of books lined towering shelves that stretched into a hazy distance, vanishing into the enormous chamber. Aisles upon aisles, a silent, infinite labyrinth of knowledge. I couldn't even see the far wall "This is the room where all history has been stored since the beginning of time," Victor announced, his voice reverberating softly through the vast space as he walked down one of the endless aisles, his gaze sweeping across the spines.

"Wow," I breathed, truly awestruck. "That's... incredible. All of history, contained in one room."
Victor halted, his search concluded. He plucked out a thin, very old-looking book, its cover faded, its pages brittle with age. "Ah, here it is," he murmured, a faint line forming between his brows. "The story of Claire and Anthony." He flipped it open, his eyes scanning the delicate script before he began to read aloud, his voice taking on a narrative quality.

"This happened long ago, in the year 1712, between the angel Claire and the human Anthony. He possessed the rare ability to see and speak with her. Claire, desperate to maintain their connection, pretended to be human, believing she could continue their relationship without complication. They grew incredibly close, forming a bond so deep she felt it was safe to reveal her true angelic nature. She trusted him implicitly, believing he would keep her secret."

Victor paused, looking up at me, his gaze unsettlingly solemn. "I vaguely remember the day I told her what I'm about to tell you now, Alexander. I don't know what other side effects may come from prolonged proximity to a human with this ability, but I believe you should avoid this human. What I do know, from this book, is this: the longer an angel remains in the presence of such a human, the more human they will become. Your angelic powers will begin to fade, one by one, until they disappear completely. You will become entirely human, with no hope of return."

He lowered his eyes back to the book, the ancient words seemingly burning into the silence of the library. "Claire was prepared for that consequence. She loved Anthony, and she trusted him to protect her secret. But she was tragically wrong. Behind her back, Anthony began whispering tales of her magical abilities to the townsfolk, convinced he could trust them, for he had grown up among them."

"One year later, as they slept in their bed, Claire was abducted by the furious local townspeople, who branded her a witch. Anthony tracked them down, pleading with them, swearing that his stories were lies, that he had fabricated everything. But it was too late. Everyone in town knew; they had heard the words directly from his mouth. They refused to listen, dragging her into the middle of the town square, tying her to a wooden stake. She kicked and screamed, a desperate cry. Anthony begged them, his voice raw, to free her, to let her go. Claire tried with every fiber of her being to teleport away, but it was useless. Her powers were gone."

"She burned at the stake that day," Victor read, his voice devoid of emotion, "the townsfolk cheering, while Anthony wept in agonizing pain and crushing guilt. If he hadn't told them, she would still be alive. A few days later, consumed by his grief, he ended his own life, leaving behind a single note: 'I just wanted to see her again.'"

Victor finished reading, the grim tale hanging heavy in the air. He carefully closed the old book and slid it back into its place on the shelf. He turned, his gaze fixed on me. "I don't know what became of Claire's soul after her death, Alexander. No one has seen her in Heaven since. Some say, if she's not here, she must be in Hell." His voice softened, tinged with a solemn warning. "I have no right to choose your path for you, Alexander. All I can do is tell you that it could go very wrong. I don't have much knowledge of what other side effects may come with being around her, beyond the loss of your powers. I advise you to avoid her as best as possible."
I ran a shaky hand through my hair, the revelation chilling me to my core.

The few minutes I'd spent talking to Lily earlier had been captivating. She was beautiful, yes, but more than that, she was intriguing, and the mere sight of her had made my ancient, unfeeling heart skip a beat. But now... now it seemed a catastrophic amount was at stake. I had foolishly entertained the idea that perhaps, at the very least, we could be friends. But the grim reality of losing my angelic abilities, of becoming irrevocably human, or worse, the terrifying unknown of what else might happen, sounded like an absolute deal-breaker.

My mind was made up then and there. I might be her assigned Guardian Angel, destined to watch over her always, but it would have to be from a far, safe distance. I couldn't risk losing my powers. I couldn't risk becoming human again.