"The angel has acknowledged you, Raia. You are now an Elysian."

Simon's voice was the last thing Raia heard from her dream before the loud knock on the door wakes her up. The faint voices from outside belong to Nathan and Raiden, and their tones suggest that they're arguing about something ludicrous.

Raia frowns, clutching the snow-white pillow between her arms, wondering if it's time for her Branding. Her heart beats faster and her stomach lurches at the thought of becoming an official disciple.

Aragon. Soon I will be an official part of this organization, she thinks, then she remembers something Simon told her before.

"That organization is like a home to me, Raia. And the people there are like family to me, just as you are to me."

"Master's home," Raia mutters to herself. "But what really is a family?"

So long as Raia could remember, she had grown up in an orphanage. She knew nothing about her parents or anyone else she could call family.

Not until Simon called her one.

It was seven years ago when he saved her from the orphanage and called her family. But when he told her that the organization is also his family, Raia began to question its true meaning. According to what she learned from the kids at the orphanage, a family is made up of people who are related to one another.

Raia has no knowledge of her family and has no idea whether they are still alive. She keeps telling herself that they are already dead, because how did she end up in the orphanage in the first place?

I wonder what it's like to have a real family. Raia's chest twists as she thinks about that, then a frown rolls over her face. My family is gone, I shouldn't waste my time on something like this.

Her gaze is drawn unintentionally to the black cloak hanging from the metal hook attached to the concrete wall.

"I wonder what is that drunkard doing now?" she mumbles to herself as her thoughts drift to her master.

She shifts in her bed, then her eyes land on the wooden cabinet standing next to the metal door. It becomes quiet. Raiden and Nathan must have assumed she was still sleeping and stopped knocking.

Her eyes flicker to the mantel clock on the mahogany side table. The long hand is pointing to the roman numeral nine. She lets out a sigh. She only slept for three hours, which she thinks isn't enough after the three-day tedious journey.

After Sonnet accompanied her to the cafeteria that night—and she couldn't deny that the food they serve is good—she assigned a room for Raia and provided clothes to change, which she's wearing now. It's a pristine white woven cotton nightgown that mirrors the bedsheet she is lying on. It feels soft against her skin and even helped to put her to sleep; not to mention the coziness of a weighted blanket around her.

The walls around her are grey and seamless, and despite the lack of painting and windows in her room, it has provided her with comfort and security from any wickedness outside the sacred barrier that surrounds her.

The Nirvana Order . . . can Raia truly call it home, as her master does? Her only known home is now thousands of miles away.

Is master still living there?

A knock on the door jolts Raia out of her reverie, and it is followed by a beat. She frowns as she slips out of the warm blanket and strolls over to the door.

"You don't have to keep knocking like that. . ." Raiden is saying when Raia opens the door slowly.

Raia stands before them with tousled hair and a solemn expression, making both men gulp in fear.

"Sorry for the bother," Raiden says with a small smile. Then he shoots Nathan a look. "And for his stupid knocks."

Nathan shrugs nonchalantly. "At least she woke up."

When Raia only stares at them without uttering a single word, Raiden clears his throat and speaks again.

"I've brought your uniform, here," he says, handing her over the paper bag he is holding.

Raia blinks. She takes the bag from him and peeps inside it before returning her gaze to him, then cocks her head.

Raiden clears his throat once more.

"Miss Sonnet will come and get you as soon as possible to take you to the Bishop's office." His mouth forms into a smile. "It's about time for your Branding."

Hearing the word Branding makes Raia's stomach lurch again. But she's not sure whether that's a good or a bad thing.

"Okay," she mutters.

"So," Nathan says, looking at her. "How is Apostle Simon? We haven't seen him in three years. Is he still in Uriel?" His eyes sparkle in excitement.

At the mention of her master, Raia's brows furrow. "I don't really know."

Both men raise their eyebrows.

"Have you been to Urielean Branch yet?" Raiden asks with curious eyes.

Raia lowers her gaze with a slight shake of her head. "No . . . This is the only time I've been to this organization."

Raiden and Nathan exchange a glance, then nod in unison.

"I see," Nathan says. "And here I was about to ask you if you've ever met a devil chick."

Raia frowns. "A devil chick?"

"Apostle Yi Zi will kill you if she heard that," Raiden remarks. "Anyways, don't mind that guy. He's referring to our master who lives in Uriel."

Nathan sniggers, but both of them ignore him.

"I see," Raia replies in a flat voice.

So they are trained by the same Apostle, Raia thinks, then her brow furrows as she mulls over the existence of the Apostles and how they actually make a contract with an angel.

After yesterday, Raia realized that Simon hasn't really told her that much about Nirvana Order, aside from the existence of disciples and Outcasts. He never even talked about himself, nor his life as an Apostle. Raia wonders if Simon providing little information to her is intentional or not.

But according to what she's learned thus far, the things Simon didn't tell her were mostly about trivial matters that don't really stand in the way of her destroying demons. Furthermore, she benefited more than she suffered from not knowing about their immunity. She learned not to rely on luck and even improved her skills.

I think I understand why Master didn't tell me everything. He didn't want to suffocate me with trivial stuff that I could learn right here.

He mainly taught me things that would help me survive.

"How many Apostles are there?" Raia asks, now eager to learn new things. Getting information from other people and not having to rely on her master excites her.

"Currently there are five," Nathan answers. "Two from Mikael, and one each from other Lands."

Raiden nods. "And actually, only seven people can form a Contract with an angel and become Apostles."

Raia raises an eyebrow questioningly. "Why?"

"The Elysium has only Seven Heavenly Virtues—the contractible angels who possess the Seven Trumpets," Raiden responds with a shrug. "So, if there are already seven Apostles, no one can form a contract with the Heavenly Virtues unless one of the Apostles retires or dies."

"Yeah, that's why I can't wait to level up my Blessing and form a contract with the remaining Heavenly Virtues," Nathan declares, a wide grin splitting his face. "I'm certain I'll be the sixth Apostle."

Silence descends. Raia looks at Nathan with a deadpan expression, and the redhead laughs awkwardly.

"That's good, then," Raia says in a monotone voice before shutting the door in their faces.

***

Raia stands in front of the cheval mirror near the door after taking a shower and stares at herself. She's wearing her uniform. It's black dress coat with purple trim on the collar, the ends of the sleeves, and the placket. A cross shield badge is pinned to the right side of her chest; the cross is silver, and the shield is purple. The emblem of Nirvana Order.

Her long dark purple hair is still damp from a shower, with droplets of water trickling down to the dull floor. She blinks and looks at herself in the mirror for a minute before rotating. A large white cross is imprinted on her back, and a horizontal line runs across her shoulders in thinner lines, forming a cross pattern.

Something warm fills her chest as she stares at herself, but she doesn't know what it is. She can't think of a word to describe the strange sensation. While deep in thought, she unconsciously traces the emblem with her fingertips. Her brows pucker.

"Aragon, huh?"