He did not know how long he had waited there in the dark.

Hours? A full day? Fuck if I know.

Slowly, he lifted his head back against the wall, to look again at the ceiling. He could not see the sun or moon, not even a glimpse of what was outside. The wait was killing him. Not literally, of course, but it was the closest thing he could define it as. Agonizing dread. Yes, that was it. He was home, a home he had been disowned of. He had not wanted it back; it had not been something he yearned for. And this home, it hated him. He was sure, there could be no doubt.

No water, no food; just the constant sound of those drops. The guard standing outside was eerily silent. Of course, he had forgotten how efficient and unmoving angels were. Here, there could only be perfection. One task, one action, no distractions. All worked in absolutes.

Though, really, some water would be nice. A prisoner should not be kept like this, much less with these burns.

Unless, of course, they still considered him an angel, and were sure he couldn’t really die yet. Maybe it was mockery, or outright neglect and torture.

He did not know, and it was making him more angry, frustrated and fearful.

Are you okay…?

He hated his deity, but he found himself begging to it mentally, for his family to be safe. He was not safe himself, yet he could not avoid thinking of them instead.

Like if his thoughts always summoned its attention, he was acknowledged. It was not a blessing, he knew that when he looked up to the door, which had opened with a creak. He breathed out and glared at those red wings, folded so calmly at Philander’s sides. The angel looked down at him, with no trace of anger, just a calm calculative smile. Now he was wearing different attire, one much grander, higher. His robes were the ones of a diplomat, of a noble. Gone were the robes Zelophehad had cut, gone was his old armor. It was like if he had changed it all, to show a new beginning, his reward. He was proud of his actions.

Alexis remained silent while Philander walked over to the opposite wall, to crouch there, to stare at his eyes, without hurry.

“Good day, devil.”

So it is morning…

Alexis glared, contrasting greatly Philander’s unreadable stare. He snarled at him, not caring about angering him or the guard by the door.

“So, it has taken you a whole day to show yourself?”

“Two, in fact. I began to fear you would not wake up. I truly wanted to come and check if you still breathed. But there was much… discussion to be had with the elders.” Philander smiled and shook his head, like if he was seeing the strangest creature that ever existed. “I still can’t believe the evil that rests behind your angelic eyes. I can’t avoid but feel doubt, I ponder if there’s still some divinity left in you. Yet then, I remember your acts. I know; I know what you truly are.”

“Cut the bullshit.” Philander did not flinch when Alexis attempted to stand against his chains, obviously wanting to throw himself at him. “I’m sick of all the crap you spew, out of your not so clean mouths. I swear, if you have laid a finger on one of them, I’ll shove my sword up your-”

“Oh, there’s no doubt about it now… you ARE a devil. Such words, they could make a priest faint.” Philander stood again, with his arms crossed. Alexis sighed and relaxed slightly when Philander admitted, with no trace of lie. “No, I have not neared my shield to their impure hearts. Yet. I wished I did, but I haven’t. I had to take you back; I had to deal with your blasphemous existence first. To cleanse a field of bad herbs, one must reach their roots. First, the primal demon. Then, you. Next, the rest of your blasphemous den.”

Alexis did not take kindly that insult towards his family. Philander did blink, because the prisoner, who was sitting, restrained, and slightly afar, managed to spit at his face. While he brushed it off his face with narrowed eyes, Alexis cursed at him, defiant.

“Fuck. You.” The blond grinned angrily, bowing his head to give him a more hateful glare. “They are not a den. They are MY family, and if you dare call them anything, I’ll-”

“You’ll what, Alexis?” Alexis shut up, because Philander lowered onto one knee, asking while motioning one laidback hand towards himself. “Kill me?”

“I’m tempted.” Alexis growled, hands fidgeting between the shackles. “But I’ve always been more pacific than others. I don’t want to change that. Not even for you.”

Philander eyed him up and down. Meanwhile, Alexis slumped again, knowing he could do nothing but lay motionless while the bastard spoke.

“Save these words for the trial, I advise you.” One of Alexis’ eyes peeked behind his long hair, tiredly. “Maybe you can win some time with them, while making the elders doubt in my word. They are still in disbelief; they can’t fathom the repercussions of your actions.”

Alexis laughed, which did not get any reaction from Philander.

“Oh, a trial.” The wingless angel crossed his legs and made himself comfortable, taunting. “I’m sure it will be a fair one! Just like Reut’s!”

“I see he has told you of that.”

“And about the sword you commanded to her neck. Yeah, I know.”

“You do well to hold that knowledge, for it shall be your fate as well.” Philander flapped his wings and held his hands together, explaining with grief. “Reut’s trial was a quick and direct one; efficient, without doubt. Her actions were clear; her evil was all over the human world. We held great sorrow to hear her admit it all, try to excuse the corruption she spawned. She confessed, we acted accordingly. You, on the other hand… the only proof of it all is my word. I was alone; I was the only one who saw those bronze wings and your moves to shield Zelophehad. The elders were shocked as I narrated what happened; in my absence, it seems I have outlived most of who knew of all this. When we crossed that portal, with you on my shoulders, we traversed to this world. When I woke on a field near the citadel, you were still unconscious. As I dragged you towards the temples, the guards and citizens saw us. The guards flew to us, while the workers tried to assist us, believing I was carrying a wounded warrior. They truly believed us both to be two angels who had just come back from their crusade, their journey to end two devils, at the same time. They tried to hold you and check on your assumed wounds… until I told the truth. The elders arrived, and we commanded everyone away from you. The fear and shock quickly filled their eyes, they couldn’t believe what they were hearing or seeing. Only a few of them know of those times, only a few remember. It’s been such a long time since I have been home… and it hurts to see them doubt. I can’t blame them for thinking it could be a misunderstanding, that you are still an angel. But, all will be proven in time. Some remember Reut, some books in the most closed of chambers tell of Zelophehad, only for the most worthy to read. I will prove you are no angel.”

Philander’s expression changed slightly after a few seconds. He looked down at him, with wonder, pity. He interrogated Alexis, shaking his head sadly.

“I truly can’t grasp how could an angel fall so. I can’t believe you are one. Like her, there must be another reason, something that makes you different.” Philander asked, honestly curious, and dreadful. “Perhaps… there could be something able to corrupt us? Alexis, your words and confession could mean a lesser sentence. Tell me, what did you see in that human? How could you stand by those demons so proudly? Did they do something to your heart? Did they… change you by force?”

He had seen Reut that day. He tried, he really tried to beckon her to tell him if the human she called Adal had casted evil in her heart. He truly had hoped to unite with her once; he had not believed his own eyes then. All he had wanted was for her to tell him what she had suffered, what had forced her to change enough to create such twisted beings. There had to be a horrible spell on her, there had to be a reason for her sins. But she had smiled instead, she was proud; she did not place the blame on any human, or her creation.

Again, his heart felt fear, when Alexis whispered, serious, firm. Like her, he did not show remorse or repentance.

“I have not changed, Phil. I am the same as always. I was like this when you pushed me to that black void, when a human lowered her crossbow and spared my life, when I met the demon I was supposed to destroy, and when I saw the most beautiful girls be born. There is no explanation to be found, there’s no evil sorcery, no corruption. It was just emotion.”

Philander stood motionless for a minute, silent. But then, he spoke, true to his beliefs.

“No angel could ever see good in the plague that are devils. There was too much death, too much suffering and sin. You hold no remorse for what Reut released onto the world, for what your daughter may expand.”

“Phil, Zelophehad only began to kill when you did. Some of his descendants were evil, yes. But so were many humans while you ruled. In your rule, there were still barbarians, thieves, murderers, raiders and-”

“In our rule, humans could find peace.” Philander clenched a fist, grieving what was lost. “We guided, we shielded. We would judge every single evil human, undisputed. We brought prosperity, to any who followed our lead. But then, demons appeared, from her blood. Never had we seen such power and bestiality. They violated the land we had seen bloom for ages; blood poured everywhere. We could not control their feral urges; they were not something our god would create. We were forced to act, to fight. We lost, against a brutal swarm, unending. Humans were at their mercy. I could do nothing but watch that world be corrupted to the core. I have seen humans hunting for the beings they once worshiped. Demons have left a horrible mark, one we can’t cleanse. They came from evil, and evil they are.”

Alexis paled, because Philander moved his hand, like if he held a sword.

“This time, I will cut the root of the plague myself.” He swung the pretended weapon, and then pointed it to his neck, even if he held nothing. “A quick swing, a definitive move. I’ll hold your sword, and give you the only redemption you can find. You’ll die where you were born. And you better pray for forgiveness if you truly claim you are one of us. God will decide what you are when you pass on.”

Philander moved his hand away, and then folded his wings with a calm smile. He was satisfied with the haunted look Alexis had in his eyes, and it showed in the last words he gave him.

“Treasure the time you have here, while the elders argue and discuss these happenings.” Philander walked out the door, and the guard held it to close it shut. “It won’t last for long.”

A loud slam. The silence engulfed him once more.

———————–

He could do nothing but count; think along those drops, which dropped to measure his time as a dead man.

Tick, tock, time goes on…

He kept singing in his mind, a song he had heard Uriel play with his harp, for their children to sleep, to stop crying when young.

Let the sound echo around…

His voice, it echoed in his mind, giving him the only serenity he could find. He would surrender to insanity if not.

Never trouble this home.

This simple song, meant for children, had no real purpose or meaning, other than to put kids to sleep. Yet he found it ironically appropriate now. The drops kept falling down, echoing like a clock. He could not rest, yet he was eerily motionless, like if he was asleep. He had not eaten, yet he wouldn’t die. He was thirsty, yet he was not crumbling for it. No one had entered his cell, not even a guard. He could not even change positions, not even lay sideways. His arms were now aching, still up, forced to stay that way, without comfort.

Just lay down…

He smiled sadly, remembering the days in which they would watch as Ariel and Aurora curled together, under their watch.

Wander off.

He was trapped. It was an echo chamber. And with this song fading, the fears returned. He knew what they would do to him. That was ninety-nine per cent clear. On the other hand, he did not know what was going on in the human world. He did not know what they were feeling. The temple had been burned, and Zelophehad killed. Uriel could be feeling the most horrible of aches in his heart, parted between worlds. Or maybe, he felt he was dead, gone between flames.

Maybe it was for the best they thought he was dead. He couldn’t begin to imagine how much they would be hurting and fearing right now. But they had to be alive. Philander did not tend to lie, he was a man that treasured and believed in his own words, like if they were the truest.

Wherever they were, crying, or screaming, it was best. They would never near this place, they should not. No, he wanted them away. Away from this world, this citadel, full of cold beings that would murder them less ceremoniously than him.

It was all he could hold in his mind, the only trace of good he could be thankful of.

For some reason, at the thought of the journey that had brought him here… he did not regret it.

He took a deep breath, and sat as proudly as he could.

He was not the one to cause this war. His actions were not the ones to sentence demons or angels. He had not partaken in this, not even when chosen. His hands were clean, his mind clear. Even if he held regret, it was not guilt. He was not guilty of having known Zelophehad, nor Reut’s life. He would never look back at his own life with shame, not even these last days. He had not casted those flames, he had not wielded that shield with hate.

No, he had not. He was a prisoner, of beings that only wanted to destroy what they could not hold. He was moved by love, and if love was what would end him… so be it. He was not happy about it, but not ashamed either.

I will not show fear, or beg them for mercy. I was afraid once, in front of that edge, that abyss. Never again.

He was sure of his thoughts, of his pride.

I’m older now. I can stand my ground, not hide like a child. I will not crumble and falter under their judging eyes. I will not-

“Sir, no one should come to the dungeons! It is forbidden!”

He heard the guard speak suddenly. He tensed, hearing loud determined steps. He paled and shivered when a voice echoed through, authoritative and cold.

“Let me pass. I have all the right to enter this place.”

He had thought it impossible, but that voice managed to silence that guard. That guard was of high standing, a highly trained angel, clad in one of the most rewarding armors. Yet… that voice, it was more commanding, higher. Those steps walked past the guard, pushing through without dispute.

He recognized that voice. It was sharp, direct, and calculative. He had heard it only a few times in his life, yet it had always left a mark in him. Rarely had he heard it change from an even tone… now, it was full of contained rage, of fury. It haunted him. It made him feel like a child again; afraid, terrorized, panicked. Yet he could not move, he could do nothing but freeze while that angel neared, directly, with intent.

Before, that door had opened slowly, carefully, even warily. Now, it opened with a slam; a hand pushed it open with great force, making it hit the stony wall. The first thing he laid eyes on was those feet, firm and clad in iron boots. He barely dared to raise his gaze; when he did, he did so slowly, breath shaky. He gulped, seeing a silver glint, those big slender wings, which had always haunted him in the distance. Then, those robes, of a high angel, one that was of importance; white as snow. Finally… those eyes; once calm, serene and composed. Now, they were glaring at him, with the most controlled of hates, the most murderous of rages.

“You.”

If voices could kill, he would have a heart attack right then. He would have dropped dead, hanging by those chains.

Unluckily, he did not.

Alexis shivered at first, but then heaved, because Einar dashed to him, slamming a hand around his neck, in a second. The angel of silver wings had not been able to keep himself at the door; he could not keep on looking at him without lunging. Choked, head pushed against the wall, Alexis let out a single word, startled, more afraid than he had ever been.

“F-fath-”

He did not finish. Einar slammed his head back, stealing his voice away.

“Do not dare call me that!” Alexis whimpered and closed his eyes, unable to hide from those eyes, which had shown a feral side as soon as he muttered that word. He trembled while he was chocked, unable to move away from that furious hand. “If you say that word, if you dare humiliate me so, I’ll strangle you to death, maggot!”

He had always been scorned and spoken down, never beaten. Now, his father did what he had never done. He received acknowledgement, but not in the form he had hoped for when he was a child.

Alexis huffed and gasped when Einar’s hand uncurled from his neck, to clench and thrust against his face. His fist hit his eye and left him a black mark. Stunned, he struggled to hear the yells of an angel who wanted nothing more than his disappearance from history.

“What have you done?!” Einar shook him again, grabbing him by his unkempt shirt. “What curses have you casted onto my bloodline?! Tell me that all I’ve heard are lies! Tell me the doubtful glances I receive are not to be admitted! Tell me you haven’t spawned such a vile creature! It can’t come from my lineage! Tell me!”

Alexis panted, still dazed by the choke, slams and punch. He gasped a few times, and then looked at those eyes, muttering only a half excuse, intimidated enough to doubt himself under his hurtful hold.

“I… I- I have not spawned anything v-vile.” Einar was about to soften his hold, until Alexis closed his eyes and retorted, not without fear for its repercussions. “H-her name, is Aurora. She does not share a-anything with you. Y-you are the vile one.”

Slowly, Einar let go. Alexis opened one eye while leaning sideways. He had expected an instant hit, but Einar had stood and recoiled instead, with a shocked expression. His hand opened and clenched multiple times; his former father eyed him coldly, voiceless. He felt like a mouse, under the stare of a dangerous hawk.

Einar did seem like a hawk when he moved again. In an instant, he dashed, and Alexis barely saw him do so. But he felt it. With a furious snarl, Einar proceeded to beat him up, even when he could do nothing but sit there.

“You dare give that thing the name of your mother!” Einar had never let his emotions show much, but now they showed, and it was pure rage what flowed out. His moves, they were strong and direct; he kept kicking Alexis, on his face, chest and stomach. His voice was scorning and hateful while he yelled. “She must be turning in her grave! You dare mock her purity and virtue! You should have never been born, you ungrateful lucky bastard!”

Alexis could not brace himself. So he just took the beating. Gasping for air, he tried to close his eyes and overcome the pain of every punch and kick. However, Einar wouldn’t even allow him to do that. Those silver wings, they moved, to claw at his face, harshly. He had to open his eyes while moving his head away, giving Einar the satisfaction of seeing the pain in his amber eyes.

“Look at me while I speak!”

Alexis huffed and coughed a little bit of blood, bending as much as he could after a very hurtful jab. Dazed, he shook his head and met those eyes, showing defiance, in the only moment in which Einar slowed down. Those silver wings shivered with anger, for he was not glad to see pride in him.

“You had one chance.” Einar mourned, but not the fate of his son, but his honor. “You could have aspired to reach the glory of your ascendants, you could have come back to fortune and recognition, and you could have had my respect. Yet… you come back, not only without wings, a crime on its own… but as well accused of horrible acts. Acts that will taint our caste forever. With you slain like a devil, all eyes will turn on me, your bringer. If you aren’t an angel, doubt will be placed on my wings as well. So many souls before you, you have dishonoured and shamed them all. I’m glad she is dead, unable to see you now.”

Alexis cried, not knowing which hurt more, the beating or those words. All his body was pulsing with pain, weak, and he was broken emotionally. Yet Einar was not done.

He screamed when his father grabbed his hair and yanked him closer, forcing him to look up again. His arms were being bent, unable to follow his body as he was pulled. The guard outside heard it all, but only gave a half nervous glance in, deciding to keep his unmoving stance. Einar had full range to do as he pleased, as long as he did not kill him. He eyed him down with an angry smile, shaking his head in disapproval. Those silver wings were pointed now, in anger, and he was not moving them away to prevent them of cutting against him.

“No… I can’t let my blood, my ascendance, be shamed like that.” Alexis hissed when Einar moved one wing near his neck, letting the sharp feathers brush. “I’ll prove my honor. I’ll show I hold no bond with a being like you. You, you have never been my son, nor hers. You truly are a curse, and I will let everyone see that. I will take back the beautiful sword I gave you that day, out of mercy… and bring it onto you. I’ll be the one to rid the world of your presence.”

Once, Alexis had been brave enough to speak back to this man. But now he could not. His hands were clenched into fists while Einar twisted his hand around his hair, he could not fight back. Einar kept whispering, savouring the thought of his death.

“Yes. Gone. Forever. No more I will have to dread your failures. No more I will have to watch your actions from afar. I will be able to let go, to not be let down again.” His fingers clawed at his head, maliciously. “I will-”

“Let him go, right now.”

Einar blinked, but barely had enough time to look sideways. Before he could react, someone shoved him off, with enough force to make him stumble slightly. Alexis sighed and slumped, not caring much right now for who had lunged into the cell. His vision was foggy, and his breaths tired. He heard the intruder yell, without yelling, with a voice that had firmness, and a fire that flowed ferociously.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, Einar.”

Einar spoke back to that man, with the same hatred.

“Ashamed, indeed! Of him. And you! You hold as much fault; you are to blame as well. Without you, this filth wouldn’t have had the chance to-”

“Out. Now.”

“No one can tell me to leave, not after arguing with the elders about my rights.”

“Your right to see him, not to beat him to a pulp.” The man seemed to turn to the guard, who got quite nervous with the next words. “You! Wasn’t the prisoner not to be harmed until that trial?!”

“S-sir, I can’t forbid one of his caste to enter. Much less one of his standing and recognition. I was only doing what the elders have foretold.”

“Oh… so, Einar?” Einar growled when the man taunted, using the words of the guard. “Are you truly admitting you are related to him with your visit?”

“I know your tricks and taunts.” Einar patted his wings pridefully and stepped away, glaring back hatefully. “I know when to move on. I am done with this pariah. For now.”

All this conversation was hard for Alexis to register. The only thing he knew, was that the beating had stopped, allowing him to hang weakly from the chains. Einar had left, yet he still feared, like if he was still there. He flinched instinctively when the newcomer turned to look at him, slowly. He kept his head low, just in case he was about to be yelled to by a fourth angel.

He did not understand when the angel yelled at the guard instead, furiously.

“You, lad! When was the last time he was given water?!”

“L-last time? No, sir, he has not been given anything. The elders have dictated that we shall test his angelic endurance. His strength shall be discussed in the debates and trial, to determine his true nature.”

“You idiots, hasn’t it crossed your mind that both angels and demons have the same resistances?!”

“B-but-”

“The only difference between us is the speed in which we heal, and you are going to see very soon that he won’t do it quickly! You have let him be beaten, without moving a finger! So you better run off to get some food and water, before I go and tell the elders of your stupid negligence!” The man growled under his breath, threatening without lifting his voice. “You have three seconds to bolt, for I have as much authority as that silver winged coward, even if you don’t believe it. One. Two-”

The sound of urgent steps echoed away.

Silence. It was all that was around him. Even that watery drop seemed to cease, fallen onto the wings of that man, instead of onto the stony ground.

When the angel moved, he winced. He recoiled as much as he could, for he sensed that one of those wings lowered to him. However, instead of brushing harshly to scar his skin, it pressured gently against the side of his face. He panted, when those feathers brushed off the small trail of blood from his chin, slowly.

That made him stop looking down in fear. Confused, he glanced up with a shaky move, still dazed and stunned. His amber eyes were lost, but still showed a trace of recognition when he stared at the man. The angel had crouched down, and was looking at him with pity, with sorrow. That voice, he recognized it at last when he spoke again, with the most caring of tones.

“I wish I got to see you again in better circumstances, kid…”

Alexis stared at him for a full minute. Even if he did so with a whimper, he spoke, attempting a shocked weak smile.

“A-angus?”

Angus shook his head, hating to see him this hurt and beaten. When Alexis huffed next, it was not for a punch, or a kick, but for the tight hug he received. At first, he did flinch and frown. But soon, he rested his head onto Angus’ shoulder, closing his eyes tiredly. Those wings wrapped around him, like those strong arms, giving him something he had missed greatly, something which he had not felt in a very long time.

“I wish I could say, welcome home, Alexis. I wish I could.”

Alexis did not care. He did not care anymore for what Einar or other angels could do to him. He just rested, knowing he could be silent, safe. For now.