Half Blood Daughter by Claire Bajada

Half Blood Daughter by Claire Bajada

Dear diary,

I have a dilemma. I have to make a choice today, either to embrace my true heritage or the life I was raised in. This is rather frustrating. I think it’s better to start from the beginning of this madness.

All my life I’ve lived in what many would call heaven, what the Ancient Greeks called Elysium. I guess you could say that I was raised by angels. My favourite was Gabriel, the messenger in heaven who had taken care of me since I was born. He played with me, educated me and always had an answer to my never ending queries. There was one question, however, that he had never given me a straight answer to—my parentage. All I knew was that my mother was an angel and that she had died after giving birth to me. When I would ask about my father, Gabriel would change the subject or simply stay silent and walk out of the room. As I grew up, he became more protective, often becoming possessive and paranoid. By sixteen years of age, I was no longer allowed to roam Earth with him, his reasoning being that it was no longer safe. I always argued that if anything, it should be safer as I could protect myself much more as I got older.

On my eighteenth birthday was when he crossed the line. After I woke up and got dressed, I went to meet the other angels, Uriel and Rafael, in the garden, but when I arrived, only Gabriel was there. When I asked him about the others’ whereabouts, he claimed that they were unable to come. Normally this would be a plausible explanation, however they had promised me the day before that we would celebrate my birthday together. I demanded the truth but he simply led me back to my room and locked the door. I was livid. As I was pacing furiously around the room, I heard a buzzing in my head and my hands felt like they were on fire. I screamed, but not in pain, no it was rage, pure rage. Darkness enveloped my vision and I fell into what seemed like an empty void. 

The next thing I remember is waking up on a bed, a comfortable one for sure. I also remember opening my eyes, but instead of the crisp white walls of my room in heaven, I saw black and gold walls. My eyes trailed to the bed I was lying on. It wasn’t covered in my usual ivory bed sheets but, rather, red satin was draped on it, the ends elegantly cascading to the floor. Saying that I had a panic attack would be an understatement. I was wheezing and blinking furiously, trying as hard as I could to get everything back to normal, to wake up from this lucid dream. What felt like hours was probably only a few minutes. A man who looked no older than forty suddenly appeared and attempted to calm me down. Any sane person’s normal reaction to this complete stranger hugging me unexpectedly and telling me to relax would be to panic further, but I, being the oddball that I am, felt safe in this man’s presence. It was the comforting feeling I used to get when Gabriel would rock me back to sleep after a nightmare when I was a child. I stopped, relished in this feeling, and that’s when I saw him. The black hair and blue eyes, his youthful face and the look of sheer joy on it. 

What shocked me the most however was when he said “Oh Lucifer, you look just like your mother. I can’t believe those angels kept you hidden from me for so long. Welcome back my beautiful daughter”. Now, when a strange man who looks like he could easily beat the living crap out of you calls you his daughter, you probably shouldn’t slap him, but that’s exactly what I did. He was stunned, and honestly so was I, but admittedly I had a pretty good reason. I expected him to be mad but he simply laughed, the kind of laughter where you hold your stomach and tears come out of your eyes. I waited for him to settle down and then ordered him to explain what was happening. When he did, I wished that I had just kept my mouth shut. He said that his name was Faramir, my reaction to which was to laugh and ask him if he could take me to Gondor. He merely smirked and asked me where I thought that Tolkien got it from. He also told me that he was known around that place and to mankind as the demon of lust, and that he was my father, before the angels took my mother, before she had me and they hid us from him. So it’s safe to say I was in both figurative and literal hell. 

When he told me the entire truth of how I came to be, I had a flurry of emotions flowing though me, the two most prominent ones being happiness that I had found my father and disbelief that I had been lied to by the angel that I had thought was my closest familiar. Faramir, or should I say my father, led me out of the room to the dining hall, assuming correctly that I was hungry. There I met six other people err… demons. There were two females and four males and they happily introduced themselves to me as my aunts and uncles and lo and behold they were gluttony, sloth, pride, greed, envy and anger. Despite the stigma surrounding them, they were all nice to me, especially gluttony or Uncle Zeno as he requested me to call him, who admired my ability to consume my weight in food. After the dining experience, I was led to a huge library. Father had said that it was my mother’s favourite place when she would sneak down there to meet him. I had questioned whether he had truly loved my mother or not, since he was the literal embodiment of lust, but the sad expression on his face when he picked up a photo of her and showed it to me was all the proof I needed. 

Before the tour of the palace was over, (oh yeah my father and his siblings actually had their own freaking palace), I asked how I had come to hell in the first place. He explained that the anger I had felt in heaven was enough for Anger, Aunt Aithne, to track my whereabouts and portal ship me to the palace. That day had been the best one of my life. I met my father, found out that I had six other relatives and that I was a Nephalem who had the ability to become even more powerful than the full blooded angels and demons themselves, with the proper training. Sadly, however, this news came with a condition. I couldn’t choose to keep aligning myself with both sides forever, but would eventually have to choose a side. The side that I chose would determine the powers that I would acquire and where I would keep living my life. My father sensed that my attention was no longer on him and stopped speaking in order to take something out of his pocket. It was a letter addressed to him from my mother on the night that she was taken. When I read it, I could almost imagine my mother writing it, telling her beloved Faramir that she was with child and that she had to leave in order to prevent a war between the angels and demons. Her words showed how much she had loved my father and his rebellious nature, as well as how much he had made her feel free in their time together. 

At the end of the letter however, there was something addressed to “my dear daughter Kaida”. She had addressed these words to me, writing simply “Light is good and family is light”. Before I could ponder on this, Zeno came running towards us saying that the angels were requesting my presence immediately. I saw hesitation on my father’s face before it changed quickly to determination. He looked at me and grabbed my shoulders, telling me firmly to remember that I was free to choose. We walked outside of the palace and I immediately saw the angels that I used to look up to, the ones who had raised me, only to then let me live a lie. Gabriel stood at the front in all his brightness, calling joyfully out to me, though at this point it only made me sick. I walked forward and met him half way. He engulfed me in a hug and told me to go back with him, apologizing profusely for keeping the truth hidden. 

I almost agreed, when he made a side comment that Faramir was a disgrace of a father. Then, with a force that I didn’t know I had, I pushed Gabriel away from me. I was fed up with everything and announced that I knew about the choice. My father then requested for a civilized meeting to be held, in which I would deliberate and make my choice. And that brings me to you diary. Now you see that I’m in quite a sticky situation. I have to make a decision soon, and although it will be hard, I will think of my family, my mother. I think I know what I will choose.

Goodbye Diary, and wish me luck.

Yours truly,


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