The Blinded - Angel-sin (eBook)

Anna Teleki (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
170 Seiten
Publishdrive (Verlag)
978-0-00-100221-0 (ISBN)

Infos

When an angel falls, what happens to its soul?

 This is the central question explored in Anna Teleki's novel, The Blinded Angel-sin. The story follows Azar, the adopted son of the seraph Abaddon, who is raised among humans and tasked with protecting the world from unseen forces. He is not alone in this fight; he is guided by his human-like mother, the dream-master Almira, and other powerful angels.

The book delves into the complex world of angels, seraphs, and demons. It presents a different perspective on their nature, suggesting that angels are born from light and that their wings symbolize their rank and power. The novel also introduces the concept of 'angel-sin,' a powerful yearning for a human soul that can cause an angel to sacrifice its power and immortality. This is a fate that Azar must avoid as he navigates his role as a protector and confronts his own growing feelings for a human girl named Arya.

Arya, however, is no ordinary human. She is revealed to be a soul keeper, a powerful being who acts as a barrier between the human and angelic worlds. Her unique ability to interact with both realms puts her in a dangerous position, making her a target for the shadows and other malevolent forces. With her powers sealed by Almira to protect her, Arya must learn to harness her inner strength and embrace her destiny as a soul keeper.

The Blinded Angel-sin is a tale of love, sacrifice, and the eternal struggle between good and evil. It is a story that will leave you questioning everything you thought you knew about angels and the true nature of their existence.
 

Textauszug

Azar’s black eyes stare into the distance, his gaze fixed on the endless stretch of mountains. A black horse grazes silently in front of him, its coat a dark shadow against the dawn. He can see the dew on the blades of grass, each drop glistening like a tiny diamond in the first light. The air feels clean and pure, as nature breathes its oxygen into the world. A small smile touches his lips before he stands. The horse turns to him, and Azar strokes its leg. The black stubble glistens as the air around him shimmers under his touch. The animal is strong, a powerful presence, and every beat of its heart sets a steady rhythm. The horse turns its head, and its warm lips touch Azar's forehead. "You are beautiful," it whispers, then spreads its wings and flies away.

The Journey East

The lofty skies of dawn watch over him as he heads east, the way he knows he must go. As he nears the shoreline, he stops in the air, a still point in the vast expanse. Below lies an endless stretch of golden wheat fields, their heads bowing in the gentle breeze, a sea of gold rippling in the light. His wing moves, and a white light ripples through the air like a perfect ring before he descends. He lands silently. The wheat ears bend fully, forming a perfect circle around him, but not a single stalk is broken, even when his golden sandal touches the ground.

The Ocean Shore

Reaching the ocean's edge, Azar’s wings disappear, a silent, painless act. The button of his jeans comes undone, and his worn gym shoes slip off his feet. He steps onto the pearly sand and stops, looking down at his toes sinking into the warmth. A wide smile spreads across his face as he bends and digs his fingers into the soft, sun-heated grains. The roaring ocean breeze ruffles his hair, carrying the intoxicating scent of salt and freedom. He slips out of his jeans, takes off his shirt, and runs toward the water. The water is up to his knees when he takes a deep breath and plunges into the next wave. The white, foaming wave takes him down and pulls him deep, and he swims ahead into the cool, dark abyss.

The Return

Water drips from his hair as he marches to shore, each step a heavy thud in the shifting sand. He sinks into the warm, shifting grains and lies down wearily. He sighs, looking up at the now-pale sky with his green eyes, and smiles, a faint, contented curve of his lips. He knows he must go on. He must go now.

Ruiel's Throne

It's May 2043.

Almira is curled up on thick, warm furs beside Ruiel’s massive, rocky throne. He leans to the side, a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye, and a faint smile on his lips.

"Is there something troubling you?" he asks softly, his voice a low rumble in the cavernous space.

Almira refuses to answer. She sighs, continuing to stare into the void, a silent, defiant figure.

"Are you concerned about your son?"

"Why should I be concerned?" Almira snaps, her icy eyes sparking with a cold fire. "He is with Abaddon."

"You trust a seraph's son that much?" Ruiel asks with a sly grin.

Almira gazes up into his dark eyes without a second thought. He seems perfectly serene. The angel cups her chin and searches deep into her eyes, pleased by the defiance sizzling in the woman.

"Over the years, his wings have grown large. His feathers have soaked up all the light and warmth of the created world. And with those powerful wings, he has flown across mountains, through clouds—so high that the Earth beneath him seems nothing. He loves everything: storms, tranquility, the animals, the forests, and the humans. He has seen every unexplored part of the world, from the depths of the seas to the peaks of the highest mountains. Your son worships the world!" Ruiel smiles. "He is missing you. You just have to be patient," he murmurs gently, stroking her cold face. He runs a finger along her reddened lips. "He loves you," he says quietly.

The Dream

An onyx bracelet with Sanskrit signs rests on a weak right wrist that has fallen from the bedside onto a massive book. The page shows a finely designed cross with a diamond at its center. A tall man in a black suit steps into the tiny room. His long fingers slide over the words "dream-master" in the book beside the bed. His brown eyes gleam with golden serenity. A smile curves his stern, handsome face. A few curly locks stick out from his naturally thick, chocolate-brown hair. He turns off the smartphone light left on the book, plunging the room into shadow.

A young, fair-haired girl sleeps in the bed. In her dream, she climbs the stairs to her high school, taking long, bounding strides. She stops in front of a doorway where a young boy in black trench pants is stuck.

"It's funny," she says with a big smile when the boy turns his head toward her.

"Great, would you mind helping me out?" he says. He has dark hair and emerald green eyes that glint with a hint of exasperation.

"Relax," she continues, a laugh in her voice. "It's been doing this for a while." She smiles and grabs his hand, yanking him out of the tight doorway with a surprising amount of strength. "It seems you were the first victim today," she chuckles.

He adjusts his shirt, then smiles at her. "What is 'it'?" she grins.

"I assume your breakfast was delicious," the boy smiles, pulling a snow-white handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing her lips. "You're all chocolate."

"What?! I was in a hurry," she says, cleaning her face with the back of her hand. "You're new? I haven't met you at school before." The door opens with a soft click, and they walk in, the morning crowd swirling around them.

"It's strange that this door shuts faster than the others," the boy says, then he just stares at her. "You... remind me so much of someone," he stops, his words trailing off. She turns and walks through the morning crowd toward her class. The boy reaches out, catches her hand, and stops her. "Hey, what's your name?"

She smiles broadly and turns around, removing her hand from his. "Arya Kirti," she replies quietly, offering her hand again.

The boy watches the fragile hand, small in comparison to his own and adorned with a black marble bracelet. He takes it, raises it to his lips, touches it lightly with a kiss, and breathes on it. "I'm Azar. It is an honor to meet you."

Arya is speechless, staring into his hypnotic green eyes. She opens her eyes wide in the dark until someone finally draws the blinds, bathing the room in soft light.

"Good morning."

"Yeah, it's morning," she says, kicking off the blanket. The tall man smiles.

"Get dressed, for church."

Arya sits up with a grin. "Nathan..."

"Yes?" the man replies, looking out the window.

"Do Dream Masters exist?"

"Dream Masters? Where did you get that?" the man asks, picking up a cassock from the small table.

"You know, I read something... and my dreams are strange lately..."

"Not everything you read is true. Dreams are just dreams," comes the stern reply.

"I dream about the same boy every Sunday."

"Boy?" the man asks, his head turning back to her sharply.

"Yeah... Never mind." The girl holds her head, rubbing her temples.

"You have to study first. So... try not to dream about boys. Okay?"

"Sure."

"I'll be downstairs. Hurry up, don't be late!" the priest says, his voice a final command.

"Okay."

The Return Home

Months pass.

The roar and flap of massive wings echo in the cave. Powerful bursts of air assault the beautiful Dream Master, who turns toward the dark tunnel. The eternal flames flicker as Azar lands on the frozen ground. The bright light from the flames plays across the cross on his chest.

Almira's eyes are wide as she gazes at her son. Her form seems tiny before him, a fragile shadow.

"I'm home," he whispers pleasantly, hiding his wings as he watches Almira with his long-missed emerald eyes. The woman moves toward him, trembling, a mixture of joy and fear on her face. Azar's human shape is merely that of a young man. She embraces him tightly, his scent filling her with the fresh fragrance of the Earth. Almira smooths his face, which is hidden by dark, curly hair, as he bends down to his mother.

"Welcome home," she says with a smile, a single tear escaping her eye.

"Ma'am," Azar says again, hugging Almira closely, but now his black eyes glare at Ruiel on the rocky throne.

The Dream's Reality

"I'm Azar..."

Arya leans back, glances at the clock, and raises her hands. The thin marble bracelet slides up her arm, a familiar weight. She sees a shadow pass before her. Slowly, she moves toward the mirror, picks the comb from the shelf, and begins to comb her golden hair. Gradually, she ruffles her long curls, and unknown symbols form in rows along the edges of the mirror, shimmering like silver.

"Fuck, am I daydreaming?!" She opens the wardrobe and takes out a black suit, her movements frantic.

She quickly makes her way down the stairs. As she steps out of the building, she stares up at the eighth floor.

Ruiel's Memory

Ruiel walks through the dark cavern of hell. The fallen weep, trembling in their hollows. He stops suddenly. The image of two children flashes into his mind. One of them wears a little blue dress, huddled and clutching her legs, weeping. The other wears a white dress, scolding her sister in a hushed tone.

"I...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 11.8.2025
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Geisteswissenschaften
• ISBN-10: 0-00-100221-X / 000100221X
• ISBN-13: 978-0-00-100221-0 / 9780001002210