Banished Divinity: Learning to be Human

And now, here I was. Standing in front of an expensive mortal who probably had fifteen bathrooms and a few hundred maids and a wine cellar that was bigger than Mum and Dad's house.

What in the seventeen dimensions is happening right now?

First an angel. Now a reincarnated king.

Is this restaurant a portal to another realm? Is the pizza here really that good?

Should I be worried? Should I be excited? Should I order more breadsticks?

---

"Such a pleasure to see you again, Minjae, after so long," the man said, his voice smooth as butter and twice as rich. "What has it been? Four years?"

He turned toward me, and his ash grey eyes swept over my purple dress and my complete lack of expensive anything.

"This is your date, Minjae?"

"Hi, Mr. Vance, it's nice to see you again. Yes, it's been four years." Minjae stood up and bowed slightly—which was weird because I had never seen him be respectful to anyone, ever. He shook Mr. Vance's hand like a normal human being, which was even weirder. "Ah, not really. Her date couldn't make it. I'm just a middle person who is bringing her the flowers on his behalf. We had nothing going on after, so I thought I'd bring her here to eat pizza."

He paused. He glanced at me. He sighed.

"Clearly, she was not impressed. She said the environment is a little too much."

I did NOT say that, I thought, my eye twitching. He missed out a lot of details. I said mortals were influenced by the Tribunal. I said I was a warrior. I said many things. None of them were "the environment is a little too much."

The environment is FINE. The environment is LUXURIOUS. The environment has VELVET WALLS.

I am IMPRESSED.

I am just CONFUSED.

There's a difference.

---

Before I could correct him—before I could explain the nuances of celestial disappointment versus mortal observation—the man extended his hand.

"Hi, I'm Kaelen Vance. Nice to meet you."

I looked at his hand. I looked at his face. The spitting image of Valerion. The same ash grey eyes. The same sharp jaw. The same aura of someone who had once ruled a realm and was once a living powerful deity was now... eating Italian food.

So... human.

So... mortal.

So... disappointing?

Where is the cape? I thought. Where is the dramatic brooding? Where is the sense of cosmic importance?

He's just standing there. Smiling. With his hand out. Like a normal person.

I am so let down.

Kaelen—Valerion—Mr. Vance—looked a little puzzled and slowly retreated his hand, probably wondering why the strange girl in the purple dress was staring at him like he had just failed a very important test.

Minjae jumped in, ever the social rescuer. "My friend here, her name is Sera, and she is a little not herself. She hurt her head a few months ago, so she sometimes has trouble interacting with people."

"Oh, what a shame," Mr. Vance said.

WHAT DOES HE MEAN "SHAME"?

There is NO shame.

I, a celestial being, am MIGHTY and TRUTHFUL.

How RUDE!!

This expensive mortal has no idea who he's dealing with. I, a celestial being could unmake his suit with a thought. I could open a portal to the blue fires of dimension and burn it while he stands there crying.

I could—

"What are you doing here, Mr. Vance?" Minjae asked quickly cutting my thoughts of realms of torture swimming in my mind.

Good. That was good. Minjae had good timing. Probably saved Mr. Vance's suit. Probably saved Mr. Vance's life.

"Oh, I'm here with my wife," Mr. Vance said, completely unaware of how close he had come to celestial arson. "We're just here to enjoy the city."

He turned toward the angel—the white dress, the diamond brown eyes, the woman I had thought was an angel of the Final Threshold—and waved.

She waved back.

My world shattered.

First, Morvath Elir at the hospital. That had been a huge disappointment. A grim reaper who didn't use a raven. Who ran away. Who left me stranded in the middle of the hospital with no explanation.

And now this.

The angel I had been staring at. The being I had thought was a divine entity, a messenger of the gods, a possible solution to all my problems.

Was actually just a very beautiful, very expensive, very mortal wife of a mortal version of Valerion.

Not an angel, I thought. Just a wife. Just a mortal. Just someone who probably worries about wrinkles and whether her husband remembered to buy flowers.

And she's eating breadsticks. Angels don't eat breadsticks. Angels eat... angel food. Obviously….

I am so stupid. I am the stupidest celestial being in the history of celestial beings. I mistook a rich lady for an angel because she had pretty eyes.

I need to go home. I need to study for my exams. I need to never leave my room again.

I sighed internally—a sigh so deep it probably registered on seismic equipment somewhere.

I guess the real Valerion is somewhere out there in the dust of wind, not even knowing where he is, I thought. I also wonder what happened to his queen. Oh well. I remember the casting of the punishment but didn't witness it. I was called to go, but I was too busy hunting demons.

Actually, in fact, I made a point in missing it. As, I felt it was a ridiculous punishment. Banished as a mortal because he made his lover immortal? Like, come on! There are beings being attacked and innocents getting killed, and the Tribunal worries about THIS?

Priorities, people.

Anyways, by the time I got back, it was all over. But I did wish him and her the best of luck. In my heart. From a distance. I, a Celestial Being do not do close proximity.

"Well," Mr. Vance said, apparently unaware that I had just had an entire existential crisis in the span of three seconds, "I won't keep you waiting."

Before Minjae could say goodbye—before I could process the betrayal of the not-angel, the not-king, the not-cosmic-intervention I had been hoping for—our pizza arrived.

Damn, I thought. That was fast. Suspiciously fast.

Did they make this pizza before we ordered?

Is there some magical food maker in the kitchen, pulling out pre-portioned meals and zapping them with heat rays?

Interesting. I shall investigate later. Maybe pretend to use the wash chamber—I mean, washroom—and go check out the kitchen.

Maybe in there, someone would know someone from the Tribunal.

Maybe the chef is a fallen angel.

Maybe the dishwasher is a reincarnated god.

Maybe the breadsticks are sentient.

I have so many questions.

---

Then Mr. Vance spoke again. "My wife would like you both to join us. That way, your friend here can enjoy other things she has never tried as well. It's on me."

Minjae—politely, which was a shocker because I had never seen him be polite before—rejected the offer.

But one look passed between Mr. Vance and his wife. One silent, perfect look.

Then Mr. Vance insisted.

Minjae agreed. "Thank you. We shall accept the offer. Sera?"

I didn't even listen. I was too focused on that "one look" mystery. Fascinated.

Human Observation #120, I noted internally. Such humans have such interesting connection. They are married. While Mum and Dad, they are married too. However, when Mum gives Dad one look, it comes with an eye twitch, and Dad always misses the point. He thinks she's winking. She is not winking. She is threatening his life. Interesting. Both are marriage but outcome is vastly different. I shall investigate further.

---

At the Vance's table, Mrs. Vance politely introduced herself as Giana.

That name sounds familiar, I thought. Giana. Giana. Where have I heard that name before? Was it a demon I banished? A realm I conquered? A brand of pasta sauce I saw at the supermarket?

But my brain was fried from the day's events—the angel who wasn't an angel, the king who wasn't a king, the pizza that arrived suspiciously quickly—so I let it go.

The rest of the meal was... something.

But I did notice something. Something strange. Something that made my celestial brain sit up and pay attention for the first time since the pizza arrived.

Three—or was it four?—lashes on Giana's right arm.

They weren't vaguely translucent like ghost scratches or demon claw marks. They were real. Flesh-coloured. Almost invisible unless the light hit them at exactly the right angle. Like a secret written in skin.

What happened to her? I wondered. Was she attacked by a huge Groguerer with huge claws? Did she lose a fight with a particularly aggressive oversize Milauwi , which is know in mortal terms one big ass cat. But it is not a feline, it is far more than that in which its teeth moves in a circular round inside its mouth. Or is this some kind of mortal ritual I don't know about?

Note to self: Investigate mortal arm lashes. Human Observation #124.

---

So, the rest of the dinner, Minjae and Mr. Vance talked about cells. And more cells. And even more cells. Something about forgotten timelines and mitochondrial whatnots. It was like listening to two people speak a language that had been invented specifically to bore me to death. I had faced demons that were more entertaining. I had watched paint dry that was more engaging.

And then, to my horror, even Giana joined in.

What is wrong with these people? I thought. Do they not have normal conversations? About weather? About pets? About the existential dread of being mortal? About why the pizza has no price?

No. They talk about CELLS. Tiny little things that I cannot see and do not care about.

I am a celestial being. I deal in cosmic forces. I do not deal in mitochondria.

I felt so out of place. Like a warrior among scholars. Like a god among accountants. Like a person who had fought in dimension-spanning wars sitting at a table with people who probably argued about the correct way to load the dishwasher.

Giana noticed me looking uncomfortable. She tilted her head.

"We are boring you, aren't we?" she asked.

"No mortal would bore me with such conversation," I said, and the way I spoke caught Mr. Vance's attention. His ash grey eyes sharpened as I continued, "I am used to such non-interesting mortal conversations that I have learned the art of staying silent."

Nailed it, I thought. That was very celestial of me. Very dignified. Very "I am above your mortal concerns."

"Mortal?" Mr. Vance said, his ash grey eyes narrowing.

Uh oh.

Minjae quickly jumped in. "Yeah, she does this sometimes. Speaks like she's from another universe. The doctor said she had amnesia after the incident."

"Oh dear," Giana said. "What happened?"

Minjae explained the whole thing—the fall, the memory loss, the strange way I talked now. He left out the parts about me being a celestial being and talking to air. Which was smart. Because that would have made me look crazy.

Crazier, I corrected. That would have made me look crazier than I already look.

"Oh, I hope you are better now?" Giana asked, giving me alook. This one was the "bless her heart, she's trying" look.

"I have a celestial brain," I said proudly, "and my brain is working fine. I have passed mortal tests with flying colours."

Mr. Vance and Giana exchanged a look.

I knew that look. I had seen it before. On the faces of students who sat as far away from me as possible. On the face of the bus driver who had asked me to please stop arguing with the empty seat.

"Well, that's nice to know," Mr. Vance said, clearly trying to change the subject. He leaned forward. "Do you know what you want to do after your studies?"

He went quiet immediately. Giana was side-staring at him with a look that could melt steel. It was the "why would you ask HER that, she's clearly not stable" look.

Interesting, I thought. That is the stare of Mum. Do all wives give that stare, or is it just them? Human Observation #126.

"I'm sure she would know what she wants after a good rest," Giana said sweetly. Her smile was polite. Her eyes were screaming, "Change the subject, you idiot."

"Right, of course," Mr. Vance said. He choked on his drink.

Fascinating, I thought. Mr. Vance is so much richer and much more handsome than Dad, and here he is being brought down by a lady half his size. Human Observation #128. Mum is not slim or small like Giana, and yet she can bring down Dad, who is the same height and a smaller build than Mum. But here is the opposite.

The dynamic is reversed.

Giana is small and pretty and looks like an angel.

Mum is... Mum.

And yet, both wives have the same power.

The power of the look.

The power to silence their husbands with a single glance.

I must learn this power.

It may be more useful than any celestial weapon I have ever wielded.