One thing about angels was beyond doubt: they were higher-dinsional beings, distinct from the life of the material world. Though not gods themselves, they were still magnificent entities, far beyond human comprehension. Angels dwelled at the side of their deities, their very na a byword for sanctity and piety. These were views universally acknowledged in religious texts and mythological lore.
Theories about the birth of angels were nurous, but Jenkins was inclined to believe the version told by the Orthodox Churches. According to them, angels were created when a deity transford the soul of a devout believer. Pious mortals, after death, were granted the opportunity to share in their god's glory.
While this narrative was undoubtedly convenient for the Church's missionary efforts, it likely ca very close to the truth. It also aligned perfectly with Jenkins's own understanding and what he imagined to be real.
The materials and knowledge concerning angels were kept on a separate bookshelf, one not found on the first or second floors of the library. The shelf on the third floor was made of a different material from the others. Judging by its appearance and feel alone, Jenkins couldn't imdiately identify it, but he knew it had to be an exceptionally expensive type of wood.
Although the shelf was filled with books, which he estimated to be over a hundred volus, a quick browse revealed that most were either unreliable accounts or interpretations of the symbolic aning of 'angel' in mysticism. He even found one volu detailing the function of the 'Angel' card from the All-Seeing Cards. The last page of that book brazenly displayed the holy emblem of the Righteous God, the Hermit of Destiny.
"Is it really a good idea for the Church to keep a book like this behind the Gate of All Things?"
He hesitated for a mont, then flipped through the slim volu of fewer than thirty pages. From it, he learned the function of the 'All-Seeing Card - Angel': it allowed the user to directly communicate with an angel of their chosen deity, at no cost whatsoever.
Of course, the card was only responsible for establishing the connection. Whether a mortal soul could withstand a direct dialogue with an angel, or whether the angel would forgive such an impolite ntal intrusion—that was no longer the card's concern.
"......"
Jenkins was hesitant to judge such a Bestowal, but it certainly lived up to the description of 'unpredictable fate'.
There were many books on angels, but none provided a concrete description of their appearance. From the distant lost epochs to the current 18th Epoch, which was nearing its end, quite a few mortals had witnessed an angel's descent. However, most of their recollections were vague and abstract: "It was a flash of light," "It was an indescribable humanoid figure, a silhouette that will haunt my mories for a lifeti," or "In that mont, I felt I saw the very shadow of God." From such accounts, Jenkins could never truly grasp what an angel was.
At the very least, in the mortal imagination, angels were divine humanoid beings with magnificent wings. He needed only to glance at the decorations on the walls or visit a church to see its paintings and statues to confirm this common depiction.
"I wonder if I'll ever have the chance to see an angel in this lifeti."
Holding the book, Jenkins let his imagination wander before giving his head a sharp shake. He was a believer of the Legacy Sage; any angel he might et would most likely serve that deity. Although he suspected the Sage had long been aware of his true identity, Jenkins remained resistant to the idea of communicating directly with the benevolent god.
He abandoned his unrealistic fantasies and decided to slide the book back onto the shelf and leave. It was almost ti. He had to et the Gravedigger squad escorting the fragnt of the Death's Cloak.
But perhaps because the books on this shelf hadn't been disturbed in a very long ti, sliding the volu back in proved more difficult than taking it out. Jenkins tried several tis, but the gap felt too narrow. Finally, he reached out, intending to push the adjacent books aside to create more space.
But the mont his hand touched the book to the left, his fingers brushed against sothing stiff stuck to its side. Puzzled, he felt it again, and to his surprise, the hard card ca loose.
"Did I damage the cover?"
Startled, Jenkins caught the card as it fell, pulling it free from the gap between the books. He saw then that it was a card, one bearing the image of an angel.
"......"
Jenkins had known for a long ti that the Nolan diocese of the Sage's Church possessed detailed records on three of the All-Seeing Cards: 'Angel,' 'Water,' and 'Ruin'.
But this didn't an the diocese actually possessed the cards themselves. On the contrary, the complete deck of one hundred and eight All-Seeing Cards had never been held by any single power. They only ever appeared where they were ant to be.
The fact that Jenkins was able to find and hold it didn't necessarily an the card had been there a second before his hand touched it—but it didn't an it wasn't there, either. Only the one destined to receive it could perceive its existence. Otherwise, even if every mber of the Church scoured this bookshelf, the card would never have been found.
He held a stiff card in his hand, about the length of his palm but slightly narrower. It didn't feel like paper—it felt more like tal.
The back of the card was adorned with a brown spiral pattern. At its center, a classic pentagram was outlined in silver thread. Each of the five points of the star corresponded to a different ancient rune, none of which Jenkins could identify with his current knowledge.
On the face of the card, at the top center, were nine thick, curved lines. The first three were grouped together, followed by a group of six. This represented the card's number: 36.
The main image on the card's face was enclosed within an irregular, vine-like border, which was itself surrounded by shimring golden specks of light that twinkled like a constellation.
The vine-like strands of the border intertwined, twisting together at the bottom center to form a single word: 'Angel.' Curiously, the word was written in the modern common tongue.
The main illustration depicted a twelve-winged angel, sword in one hand and golden horn in the other, soaring above a city. The sword and horn seed unremarkable at first glance, but when he held the card to the light, he could see both items emit a faint glow.
The perspective was angled downward, revealing the ochre-toned cityscape below the angel. Blocky houses and pedestrians the size of sesa seeds made up the ordinary urban scene. Jenkins could even make out a horse-drawn carriage.
"What is this supposed to an?"
He held the card, motionless, for a long while, half-expecting a crazed man to suddenly leap out from behind the bookshelf and shout:
"Ha! Now that you've taken my prize, you must agree to my terms!"
But this was truly the All-Seeing Card - Angel, a genuine Bestowal. As he held it, Jenkins could feel a spot on his forehead faintly resonating with the spiritual aura emanating from the card.
"But why was it given to ? Am I supposed to have this?"
It was an undeniable fact that all the All-Seeing Cards only appeared where they were ant to be. Yet Jenkins didn't believe he had any need for 'Angel.' While acquiring a new Bestowal was certainly a cause for celebration, one that represented a path of destiny was not necessarily a blessing.
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