An Angelic Love Story (Issue ???)

Chapter 3 The Other Side of the Story

Elizabeth Nefta POV
His revelation caught me off guard, but there was an undeniable sincerity in his demeanor that made me believe him. Then, he gently urged me to share my side of the story.

"I was with my father in a cave when it suddenly shook, causing stones to fall on him. There were other miners present, and amidst the chaos, a greedy miner attempted to seize my father's belongings. Despite his efforts to defend himself, my father was weakened by the debris. The situation escalated until a strange power within me surged forth, engulfing the aggressor in flames. Witnessing this, the other miners were startled. I managed to free my father from the rubble, and we fled the cave," I recounted, maintaining a stoic facade despite the painful memories.

"Hmm, I see. I presume the other miners turned you in?" Dr. Life inquired, his expression displaying a mixture of empathy and understanding.

"No, it was my father," I admitted, a tinge of sadness creeping into my voice, mirroring his own reaction.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he offered sympathetically before continuing. His voice was soft and comforting, causing an unexpected warmth to bloom within me. A subtle fragrance of fresh flowers lingered around him, heightening my senses.

"May I witness your power?" he asked gently, his curiosity evident.

"I can't demonstrate it with this necklace on," I replied, gesturing to the pendant around my neck.

"Oh, my apologies, I forgot," he acknowledged before reaching into the cell, effortlessly snapping the necklace in his hands. I marveled at his strength compared to his seemingly modest physique as he handed me back the broken pieces.

"There we go," he remarked with a smile, prompting me to summon a circle of fire at my feet. However, a sudden explosion nearby caught me off guard, causing me to stumble backward. His chuckle filled the air as he observed my lack of control.

"It seems you're still mastering it. Do you even know what you truly are?" he remarked gently.

"Do you?" I countered, curiosity piqued by his insights.

"The language you spoke earlier, when the guard was present—how do you know it? Do you recognize its origin?" he inquired, shifting the focus to a language I had long considered familiar yet enigmatic.

"No, I don't. It's a part of me from as far back as I can remember," I confessed, a hint of curiosity etched on my features.

"That was Enochian, also known as the Angel Language," he revealed, shedding light on a piece of my identity that had remained shrouded in mystery.