Chapter 398 Amael And Celeste

Chapter 398 Amael And Celeste

"Has Samara gotten better?" I asked concerned as I lay slumped on the bed in the guest room that had been provided for me. The room was modest, with soft, muted colors and simple furnishings, but right now, I barely noticed my surroundings.

[<She has been affected too, but not as much as Annabelle. Samara will recover quickly though—being a Half-Vampire gives her an edge.>]

Cleenah's words reassured me.

"Tell her to ease up on guarding Christina for now; it's fine," I replied, trying to push the worry out of my mind.

[<Already done.>]

"Good," I murmured.

As I had expected, Annabelle, being the closest to me, had borne the worst of it. The memory of how she looked earlier still haunted me—her usually vibrant presence dimmed, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and confusion. She had seemed almost frightened of me, and that realization gnawed at my heart. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

'You are a monster, Samael.'

"..."

What was that...

A weird memory again

Maybe sleep would help.

...

...

{Samael}

"...!"

I jolted awake, a cold sweat clinging to my skin despite the chill in the air. My heart raced as I tried to shake off the lingering sense of dread that clung to me like a shadow.

"Cleenah?" I called out into the darkness, but there was no response.

How long had I been asleep? It was still night outside, the sky a deep, inky black. Not many hours, I guessed. But that voice... Had she really called me, or was it just some twisted nightmare?

I reached for the glass of water on the bedside table, the cool liquid doing little to soothe the unease still lingering within me. Setting the glass down, I left the room, feeling the need to clear my head.

The palace corridors were empty and silent, the only sound the faint echo of my footsteps on the polished floors. I walked until I found a balcony, stepping out into the night. The crisp, cool air grazed my skin, refreshing and grounding me.

Zestel was a beautiful city, its streets and buildings bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. Despite the late hour, the city still thrummed with life, lights twinkling in the distance. It was a sight to behold, a place full of history and stories, but now all I could think of was my mother and eventually the looming threat of Utopia.

As I gazed around, my eyes caught a movement below, to my left.

"Huh?"

There, on a lower balcony, was Celeste. She was perched on the railing, dressed in a delicate nightgown that fluttered slightly in the breeze. She wasn't looking at anything in particular, just staring out into the night, lost in her thoughts.

For a moment, I hesitated. But then, with a silent decision, I jumped down, landing softly beside her.

"Yo," I greeted, trying to keep my voice light.

"Kyaa—hmm!" Celeste started in surprise, letting out a small yelp before I quickly covered her mouth with my hand.

"Don't make weird noises at night," I whispered, a hint of amusement in my tone as I removed my hand.

Her cheeks flushed red, and she nodded sheepishly, clearly embarrassed by her reaction. I took a seat next to her on the railing, the two of us side by side in the quiet of the night.

"It's just... back then, it was scary..." She finally confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

I opened my eyes wide in surprise. "Back then? You mean when you fought to get me out of that mess? You were the one who beat that thing, Celes," I said with a laugh.

But Celeste didn't share in my amusement. Her expression remained awkward, almost pained. "Right... right. You're right," she agreed, but there was no conviction in her words.

I furrowed my brows. Something wasn't adding up. "Tell me what's happening?" I reached out, offering my hand as a gesture of comfort.

"...!"

Celeste flinched as if my touch had burned her, pulling her arm away so abruptly that it felt like a slap in the face. She shook off my hand, her body tensing as if she was ready to flee.

"..."

For a moment, I was speechless, stunned by her reaction. I hadn't expected that. The shock of it left me momentarily frozen.

Seeing the look on my face, Celeste's eyes widened in panic. "N–No, that's not what I meant!" I pulled back my hand, the hurt lingering in the air between us like a tangible thing. "It's about me, isn't it?" I asked quietly, trying to keep the disappointment from seeping into my voice.

"N–No..." "Is it about the Goddess then?" I asked, my eyes turning away from her, no longer able to meet her gaze.

Celeste bit her lip, her hesitation giving way at the end.

"...both."

"Both me and the Goddess?" I repeated, an awkward laugh escaping my lips, carried away by the cool night breeze.

The realization hit harder than I expected. I had chalked up Annabelle's fear of me to her youth, to the idea that maybe she was just too young to fully grasp what had happened. I had hoped, desperately, that it was only that. But now, hearing the hesitation in Celeste's voice, seeing the fear behind her eyes—it was like a punch to the gut. Even she was scared of me.

Right.

In the end, what she did was nothing short of a miracle. She had put her life on the line to save me, driven by a surge of emotions and adrenaline. In that moment, all other feelings had been numbed, allowing her to do what needed to be done. But now that the dust had settled, reality had crept back in, bringing with it all the fears she had buried in the heat of the moment.

She must have truly felt the horror of what she had faced—and what she had narrowly escaped from.

"An abomination..." I muttered under my breath, the word tasting bitter on my tongue.

"..." Celeste said nothing, but her silence spoke volumes.

"That's how I must have looked to you, right?" I asked, my voice tinged with bitterness, though I already knew the answer.

"N–No! Amael, listen—" Celeste started to protest, her voice shaky, but I cut her off with a raised hand.

"It's fine," I said, forcing a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "I'm not upset at all."

I shook my head, tilting it back to gaze up at the vast, starry sky. If that twisted version of myself—Samael—was truly what I was at my core, then who in their right mind would ever accept me?

Layla, maybe, if she's still the twisted one from the game. And Cleenah? She didn't seem perturbed by my transformation, though that might just be her nature. Ephera... I had a feeling she would accept me regardless, if I ever found her. Of course, there was 'you'—the third Goddess. The image of her flashed through my mind, and I remembered how she seemed almost thrilled by my darker side, as if she reveled in it.

But there was something else, too. A vague, distant memory. The embodiment of kindness from long ago. Someone I felt like I was forgetting, someone whose acceptance might actually mean something.

And then there was Nevia.

I looked at Celeste, still shaking her head, trying to deny what I already knew deep down. If she was truly Nevia's reincarnation, as I suspected, I had hoped—hoped that maybe she would see beyond the monster within me like she already did.

I sighed, standing up. "Let's just stop—"

Before I could finish my sentence, I felt a sudden tug on my arm, pulling me back down.

"Hm?!" I gasped as something soft collided with my lips. A sharp sting followed, and when I opened my eyes, I was met with the sight of Celeste, her cheeks flushed red, glaring at me with a mixture of anger and something else—her lips stained with blood.

I reached up, touching my lips with my fingers, and when I pulled them away, they were smeared with my own blood. Without a word, Celeste turned and bolted inside, leaving me standing there, stunned and speechless.

"..." What the hell just happened?