His perfectly chiseled features could’ve been carved from the stone that he’s standing on and his lips are sensual in contrast. Ash blonde hair gleams in the sunlight, forming a halo around that stunningly beautiful face. I find myself thinking that this is how the human stories about angels must have started, because this guy looks exactly how I think an angel might. Except in place of angelic white robes, this guy is wearing faded jeans and a white t-shirt, which accentuates his powerfully muscled body. The sight is surreal—he looks like a guy around my age but of course, I know he’s no normal guy. He’s a Seraph. Effectively, a god.
I notice his eyes then. Even from this distance, I can see that they’re blue. But not just any blue—a shade of blue as endless as the sky above me, so vivid, that it’s difficult to look at for too long without feeling disoriented. I can feel myself burning under the intensity of those eyes as they look at me, look into me, travel the length of me, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
There is something uncanny about those eyes. I wonder what they look like up close. I find myself thinking that it’s the same thing that people thought about my own eyes. I find myself having to blink a few times, partly because I can’t quite figure out whether what I’m seeing is real, but also because looking at that face is like looking directly at the sun—you can’t do it for too long without being dazzled by the intensity of its beauty.
I can tell nothing from this guy’s expression. It’s totally shuttered, like a stone wall. I catch a fleeting look of something indecipherable in the depths of those uncanny eyes, but it’s gone before I can even blink.
Time seems to stop as I stand there staring at him. He has such a strange effect on me—I feel like I’ve been sleep walking up until now. Looking at him is like waking up.
A split second later, there’s another flash of blinding light and when the light clears, the figure is gone.
What the hell was that? I think to myself, once my sanity returns and I’m capable of thinking again. I convince myself that I must have just imagined it—nothing more than a figment of my already crazed mind. But I can’t shake the feeling that the image has already been burned into my mind, never to be erased.
“You look wonderful, Jazmine.” I can hear the twinge of pride in Magnus’s voice as he looks me over.
“I feel ridiculous,” I grumble in response, although it isn’t entirely true. I can’t deny that when I looked in large floor to ceiling mirror earlier, in what is now my bedroom, even I couldn’t help but be stunned by what I saw. I hardly ever wear makeup but the beauticians that Magnus had forced on me earlier this evening have worked their magic to bring out the angle of my cheekbones with a light blush and the fullness of my lips with a rose-colored stain. Dark eyeshadow lines my eyes and my already thick lashes look even darker. Even my eyes somehow look less unnerving or maybe it’s because the vivid violet with the startling silver rings isn’t so out of place in this world of equally vivid colors and uncanny beauty.
Then there’s the dress—even I can’t help but appreciate how utterly beautiful this dress is. The violet fabric is rich and finely made, hand tailored, no doubt. It’s elegantly cut and clings to my curves in all the right places. The back is cut low, leaving the skin at my back exposed, shielded only by the sparkling gossamer fabric trailing from the shoulder straps of the dress. I don’t think I’ve ever owned a dress other than when I was a little kid, let alone an evening dress like this.
I don’t know how money works out here in Eden, but I have no doubt that this dress likely cost ten times more than all my belongings put together—not that I have many belongings, or any at all, now that I’ve had to leave it all behind. I’m glad that I was clutching my mom’s tin when I was pushed into that portal. Everything else can be replaced, but not that, never that.
“I don’t feel comfortable wearing this dress—it’s not mine,” I say.
Magnus just shakes his head in response, as he leads me through the cavernous marble halls. This place is like nothing I’ve ever laid eyes on before and I can feel myself gaping at my surroundings.
“It is yours—everything in that dressing room that I had stocked for you, is yours. All of this that you see before you, is rightfully yours. Because as I said before, Jazmine, you are the heir to the Evenstar Dynasty.”
I shake my head in disbelief. The same disbelief I’d felt earlier when I walked into the dressing room which adjoined the palatial room that is now my bedroom. There were endless rows of clothes, shoes, bags and jewelry. Something occurs to me then.
“The clothes—they look like things that humans would wear … you know on Earth.”
Magnus shoots me an amused look.
“What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know, space suits? Togas? Victorian dresses? Animal skins?” How the hell am I supposed to know? I’m clearly new to this whole world or realm or whatever. But the last thing I expected was to find a walk-in closet full of fashionable clothes. I find myself thinking about the guy I’d seen on the beach earlier. He was wearing normal clothes, too, although of course, that was about the only thing about him that was normal.
I notice Magnus’s own outfit then—a finely made tux with a midnight blue sash running from his shoulder to his waist and various insignia pinned to his lapel. He carries himself with a quiet elegance which belongs to some dashing senator or president even. Definitely not what I’d have expected my grandfather to be like, if that’s really what he is. I would have expected him to be more like a grumpy old man, smoking a pipe and sitting in a rocking chair in the corner. Total cliché, I know. But clearly, my expectations of life and what now appears to be my reality, are completely out of sync.
“Like I said before, Eden sits parallel alongside Earth—in many ways, it is a mirror of it. You will find that there are many similarities between the two worlds. Of course, we have these grand palaces and opulent balls, but you will find similar things amongst the royals on Earth, too.”
“Yeah, sure. Because I’ve spent lots of time with royalty on Earth,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Well, you are royalty here, Jazmine.”
The words were difficult to digest. Because how can I be? Yesterday I was living in a trailer—a real nothing and no one, and today I’m living in a palace, being told that I’m the heir to one of the sovereign Dynasties of another world, in an alternative realm. It’s not exactly easy to take in.
The realization of how surreal all of this is, threatens to drown me in that moment and I feel like I’m going to be sick.
Magnus notices my expression.
“You’ll get used to it. In time, and I hope you’ll grow to like it here. It’s where you belong.”