It still hurt like hell, but it was getting better. His heaves became snarls, then groans, then silent huffs. The hits burned, but with less intensity with each minute. His uncle let him take it slow, not overwhelming him with long sentences or questions.

Angus eyed his shackles and chains angrily, but there was a sly expression on his face. He wanted nothing more than to rip them open, but knew better. While his nephew sat there in pain after the beating, he pondered. He barely reacted when the guard came back after ten minutes, holding water and some bread.

“S-sir? I know you demanded this, but the elders really commanded that he should not be given anything that-”

“Bring that here, you fool.”

The guard stammered under his fierce glare, even though he was still crouching at Alexis’ side. The soldier entered and handed over the food, flinching when Angus pointed at the door with a glare.

“Let this be our little secret. As far as anyone knows, he has not eaten anything; the elders are happy, I am happy, and you got to keep your job and feathers intact. Any doubts?”

“N-no sir.”

“Good. Now turn and close the door.”

Alexis looked up a little and raised an eyebrow, seeing the very intimidating guard do as told. With a sigh, he commented while the door slammed shut.

“Why do they all fear you so much?”

“I got a reputation.” Alexis blinked when Angus moved next. He let down the food, in favor of doing something else. He frowned when his uncle snuck out a lock pick from his pocket to try to open those shackles. “A very bad one. You don’t know what I did while you were gone.”

“What are you doing?” Even though he felt immense relief when one of his hands got free, he still questioned Angus worriedly. “If they see that you opened my boundaries, they will-”

“They will not see anything.” Angus yanked on the other one and opened it with great expertise. It would have taken any other blacksmith hours to do so. “No one should enter while I’m here. I am allowed by law to see you. When I leave, I will put them again to avoid us trouble, so shut up about it.”

Alexis smiled a little, having missed greatly his uncle’s grouchiness.

“You haven’t changed much, have you?”

Angus stood up, and then looked at him with a funny look. He even began to brush his braided black beard.

“Should I have changed? Is it my unkempt hair, the old clothes I wear? Do I look gruffer or something? I can’t possibly look older. I think you’ve only been gone, for what, a decade and some years?”

“No, no. It’s not that, Angus.” Alexis did not sit up. He laughed tiredly while leaning back, holding his now free arms. “I just feared you would… look at me like everyone else.”

Angus gave him a sad shake of head, sneaking a glance to his shoulders.

“It is true you don’t have your wings, but I would never curse you for something like that.”

Alexis would have folded them then if he still had them.

“Others do curse me. But not only for that.” Alexis dared ask, nervously. He barely moved under Angus’ stare. “Haven’t they told you anything? Don’t you know…?”

Angus coughed, and then leaned on the opposite wall.

“I know many things.” Alexis shrunk a little when Angus said the next words plainly. “I have seen a lot of what you’ve been doing down there.”

“Y-you have?”

Angus cracked his neck, glaring sideways at the door. He knew his nephew was nervous about his opinion.

“You loved that spot near the abyss; ironic that they shoved you down from it. Every year, I glance down, no matter how they try to stop me.” Angus glanced at him again, noting how pale he looked. “I know what you’ve done. My most worrisome thought… is how you lost your golden wings.”

Alexis felt cornered for the first time near his uncle. The question was fierce, almost urgent. Angus was favoring this one to many others he could be asking. He had told everyone that a demon with no eyes did it, and so, he tried to say it once more.

“I don’t know what you’ve seen, but I hope you can understand how strange it was. It was not my own demon. T-there was a devil with bat-like wings, which stalked me. One day, it cornered me, and-”

“Cut it, I know when you lie. I haven’t lived with you for one hundred and twenty years for nothing.” Alexis flinched, because Angus stepped closer to question him seriously. “I have seen only glances of your life down there, with them, but it has been enough to notice. I have a keen eye; even from above, I can see the fear you hold for that human. I saw her armor; I have seen that symbol before. She is a hunter, someone as dangerous as a demon like him. You are not as apprehensive with your devil. What has she done to your wings?”

It was not a question, but a demand for truth. Alexis gulped, unable to lie to someone who knew how to shatter any of his words.

“S-she does not remember anything. Please, do not hold her accountable. It was only a mistake, a misunderstanding.”

Angus had a sharp mind.

“So your demon does have more to do with it.” He smiled slyly, eyeing him knowingly. “You are far too forgiving, kid. I don’t know the details, but I know you have pushed all hatred away. One little glance at those small horns and wings…”

Alexis bit his lip, sweating.

“Y-you saw them?”

“What part of I know many things haven’t you understood?” Alexis was surprised, because all the bitterness left Angus’ face. In an instant, he seemed eager, joyful. He grabbed his shoulders and crouched to ask him everything, forgetting entirely about what caused his loss of wings. “You sure don’t care about what those two might have done to you! I am a grandpa now! What’s her name?!”

Alexis raised a finger, baffled.

“Wait, you are not angry or-?” He shook his head, trying to process Angus’ change of mood. “Wait, you’re not technically her grandfather, she is-”

“I don’t care what she is! I don’t even care about her race!” Angus gave him a big pat on a shoulder, which did not fail to make him cringe. “Name, now!”

Alexis shied. Angus held his smile for a minute, waiting. The silence answered him, revealing her name, just by the apprehensive look Alexis was giving him. His dark brown wings dropped, while his face grew deadpanned.

“No wonder he was beating you so angrily.” Angus whispered, with no anger, but plain truth. “Of all names, you have named her Aurora.”

“I found it… appropriate.” Alexis lamented, hugging himself. The grim ambience of the cell took him back to his predicament. “Since I was little, you have only told me of her looks and grace. When she was born, her wings were fair, like you described. Her blond hair, it shines as much as when you spoke of it. Her laugh, it soon made my heart beat like yours did in her presence. She’s energetic, maybe aloof sometimes, but well hearted. I guess I treasure what I couldn’t have. If he wants to hate me for it, so be it.”

Angus looked at him with pity, something Alexis did not appreciate. Snarling, he crossed his arms with a glare, while his uncle whispered sadly.

“You don’t know the extent to which he hates you now.”

“I do. I have brought a demon to life. I am mocking his dynasty.”

“And in his eyes, her passing.”

Alexis reacted with that. He stood slowly, careful of his ache. He faced Angus, trying to be honest and defiant.

“I am not mocking my mother. If he only met his granddaughter, without prejudice, he would most surely realize he could see someone like her, as good as you describe.”

“It is not about your daughter, but about you.” Alexis shivered, because Angus gave him a sad smile, while confessing. “If you had not existed, she would have never disappeared. He truly believes you took her away, only to disgrace the chance she gave you. He truly hates you, despises you, since you were born; and you’ve only made it worse now. You don’t know how much he wishes to see your head roll.”

“Why would my birth be so cursed? What did I do to deserve this hate of his? Not now, not in my failures, but in birth.” His frustrated expression softened, with more hurt. “Did I cause her…?”

Angus motioned him to sit again while stepping sideways. He folded his arms behind his back and covered them with his wings. His tone became grim, reminiscent.

“You did not do anything. We did; we brought misery around us. Even before you were born, everything was rotten. The trial you face now does not vary from our beliefs, it was a given if you ever returned. Einar has always embraced these cruel ways, and Aurora… she always surrendered to the greater good. Only I saw through, only I could notice the terrible flaws in our acts. Yet I… I also was wrong once. I made mistakes too. And you had to suffer for it all.”

Alexis sat slowly, while his uncle began to tell of what he had never told him. His life, before he was even born, when his mother still lived, and when Einar hid his evil.

“Things were different back then. We were younger, and much more inexperienced. We did not know the true reality of our dedication and ambitions. We ended up divided. Einar found pride, I found loneliness… and she found death.”

————–

————————

The taunts would echo amid the clashing of swords.

“You fight worse than a priest!”

He would grin and move his sword forward. He clashed yet again with the other’s sword; both chuckled as they glared and pushed. The friction of their weapons would not silence their joking remarks.

“Don’t be fooled, priests can be terrifying! I’ve fought with my sister many times, and she’s better than you!”

The swords would part, and they would dash sideways again. Their duel was fierce, like always, but they would always smile. To everyone standing nearby watching, they looked like brothers bickering cheerfully. They were not related by blood, but they had always felt like siblings anyway, since they were just kids. A long life could create strong bonds.

The crowd always gathered around them, every time they put their skills to the test. The garrison had a huge patio, of shiny marble stone, where the aspiring soldiers would practice daily. Every time they began a fight in it, every angel around them dropped their task. Even the elders would stop watching the novices to watch the two. The eyes of the teachers would fill with pride, seeing them dash, so calculatedly and skillfully. Einar and Angus would get everyone’s attention, not always intentionally. They only had eyes for each other and their duel, for them there was no one else around.

Decades of training would turn any angel into a mighty warrior, but they were better than that. Angus saw the signs of an obvious opening; he saw Einar step back, near the edge of the designed space of duel. His longtime friend realized he had lost ground, and foolishly looked sideways to judge his next move. Seeing his chance, Angus got ready for another thrust; his big brown wings tensed as he leaned, and in a second, he lunged with a yell, sword ready for a thrust. Einar’s head wiped back, his spiked black hair flowing with the motion; his sharp eyes saw Angus coming onto him, faster than his bulky body looked able to be. In a blink of an eye, brown and silver wings blurred the sight of their motions. No one saw more than the dash of feathers when the sound of clashing metal echoed, but all saw one of the two swords fall down onto the white stony floor.

Angus panted with a grin, not faced by the sharp point of sword that almost brushed his neck. Einar held still, looking down with an unreadable expression; he kept pointing his weapon, even if his opponent was disarmed. It took a minute of silence for the taller male to speak, rather casually.

“Second time I win this week, Angus.” Einar leaned his head at him, with a very faint amused smile. “Perhaps you should become a priest, and learn some tricks from your little sister.”

That taunt could sound harsh, but it only managed to make Angus snort. The shorter angel stood upright and slapped the point of Einar’s sword off.

“Don’t forget I still hold the major number of victories, you scrawny hawk. I could beat you wearing a priestess’ dress.”

Einar nodded, amused. He leaned upright onto the handle of his old family sword, and commented like if he was stating a fact.

“It would surely fancy you, and contrast those messy wings of yours, and that chaotic braided beard. You could even wear some ribbons on your hair. Maybe such blatant diversion would help you win then.”

Angus punched Einar’s arm, who only winced with a grin. He whispered harshly to himself, complaining grumpily.

“You just won because I drank more than usual today…”

Einar gave him a funny look, looking sideways at the crowd. He whispered too, afraid of being heard.

“You swindler, you should not drink before a fight. You know I hate it when my opponents don’t pose a challenge. If any of the elders hear you, they’ll kick you out of service for a month.”

Angus waved a hand while he walked away, dismissively.

“It’s their fault. If those old hags don’t want us soldiers to drink like commoners, they should just ban the tavern.” He walked towards the entrance’s arcs, but turned to look back before stepping out. “I’m going for another round, sparring all day bores me; want to tag along?”

Einar shook his head with a smile, silver wings folded.

“No thanks, suit yourself. I may go upstairs and discuss some matters with our tutor.”

“Pfff.” He finally left, paying no mind to the younger apprentices gaping around him. “Always kissing your superiors’ boots. No wonder you always get promotions in the guard!”

Einar just ignored that taunt. Both knew that they had reached the top of the chain, not by praising the elders like others, but by showing true talent. They could usually enjoy more freedom than the trainees, thanks to years of exhausting discipline. That did not mean they didn’t have to show dedication now.

Angus slowly walked down the garrison’s street, annoyed by the weight of his armor. He could have turned right to go to the tavern, at a street light, but instead went left in the busy intersection. He ignored the crowd of workers, commoners and guards; he moved carefully between their robotic and emotionless steps, looking for something. Better said, someone. He grinned, seeing exactly what he had hoped to see.

“Just in time…”

He spotted the familiar line of priests parading through the huge street, always out the temples with the sunset. The line was coordinated, every priest walked at the same pace; they all would head for every street lamp around, and gently light them on fire with a fiery incantation.

He slowly crept, almost sneaking. He raised his hands and neared his unsuspecting victim. Said persons’ wings jolted and puffed when they were hugged tightly from behind, the bright fair feathers bristled with the sound of his cheery yell.

“Caught you!”

“Ah!” Angus did not flinch when his sister jolted and trashed in between his arms, clearly startled. She fumbled around with her hands, and finally clasped them together tightly, extinguishing the flame she had been holding up to the lamp in front of her. “Angus! Do you want me to start a fire?!”

Her amber eyes were glaring holes through him, but he did not care. He smiled sheepishly, his wings flapping happily under her scolding expression.

“Aww, but I had to! Everyone knows the aurora only comes with the dark!” He pouted, rather childishly. “I barely have time to see you, and if I don’t interrupt you rudely, you don’t stop your silly parade to say hi.”

Aurora peeked nervously around her, to make sure no other priests were watching to make sure everyone followed protocol. The elders took very seriously the daily tasks and routines of the temples, and she didn’t want to get scolded again because of her dear silly old brother. Last time, she had to memorize and recite twenty times a verse as punishment, regarding something about postponement. Though to be honest, she did not regret sneaking out of the temple to share some time at the tavern with him, instead of cleaning the temple’s organ.

All her companions were too focused on their assigned lamps and routes, so she was able to sigh and pay her brother some attention. That did not mean she did not swat him again with the tip of her bright wing. She tugged at her long blond hair thoughtlessly, deciding to indulge her brother.

“Alright, alright, you have my attention for five minutes; but then, I have to get back, before they notice I’m gone.”

He cackled, crossing his arms at her.

“I would love to say they won’t notice your absence, but who wouldn’t miss the most pretty and talented priestess in the temple?” She rolled her eyes at his remarks, but her grumpy expression was not facing him at all. “The choir sounds like a cat being dragged into water without your voice! And let’s not forget, you secretly help ring the bells of the sanctuary, ’cause the bell boy is always half asleep! Who will wake those forgetful old men in the morning if you’re gone?”

“Shush you.” She slammed a hand on his mouth, to prevent him of saying anything that could get him in trouble with the elders. She looked serious and thoughtful for a moment; part of her really worried about her duties… but she soon showed her other side, the one that loved to have fun. She looked down at him sarcastically, and pointed down the street with a wing. “I’ll go for an hour to the tavern with you, but only if you stop speaking badly of the temples. Oh, and you’ve got to promise to not drink too much tonight. Last time, I had to drag you home; you weight a lot, and I’m not talking about your armor.”

He nodded happily, crossing his heart jokingly.

“I promise to make some kind of effort on remembering what you just demanded! But of course, I can’t promise not to be forgetful, that’s just the way I am!”

She stared at him, blankly. She ended up brushing it off, with one of her snarky sighs.

“You are a dreadful influence on me.”

Angus smiled as she grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the neighboring street, not missing how she was hiding a grin. They both ran away, not minding that another priest saw them doing so.

He loved his sister; even if they had their duties, they both always found time to spend with each other.

——————-

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

Those sharp eyes did not show recognition for his dismissive remark. Einar kept walking forward, with true hopefulness; his answer was spoken like a prayer.

“There’s always a chosen one, always. It is only fair to have hope, any of us has a chance to receive that honor.”

Angus crossed his arms, glaring ahead, less enthusiastic.

“It may be an honor… But what are the odds?”

Einar finally stopped looking at the palace ahead. He stopped to look at Angus, almost causing the angels who walked behind them to collide with them both.

“Angus, take a look around you.” He did so, while Einar pointed at all the soldiers marching forward around them. “Of all of these angels, one will step forward today; that one could be me, or you. I’m not saying it has to be us, but who has shown the most dedication this decade? Who has proven more than willful to achieve such task?”

Angus sighed; he tugged at his trusty war hammer, almost fondly. His eyes glanced at the huge palace ahead of them, apprehensively, but with a trace of devotion. His heart felt warmth at the thought of giving a higher purpose to all the years he had served, training and fighting for this chance.

“We have given our all, but it’s not the first time we do so, Einar.” He clenched a fist, words tainted with tiredness. “How many times have we stood below the glow of that orb? What makes you think our deity shares your views as to who is worthy? We’re two, between hundreds devoted for this moment, which only comes scarcely in time.”

Suddenly, Einar gave him a pat on the back. His taller friend questioned him, rather harshly.

“Are you saying you don’t want to be chosen anymore?”

Angus shook his head with a grimace. He pushed down Einar’s hand and began to walk forward again.

“Do not dare imply my loss of conviction; my heart is in the right place. I’m just tired of waiting!” He fisted his hammer and glared back at him, smiling. “There’s nothing I would love more than going down there to smash some demon heads in.”

Einar smiled fondly; he stepped at Angus’ side and laid a hand on his shoulder, to compel him forward.

“Well said friend; couldn’t have worded our wishes better, your boldness is always inspiring. Now, let’s go, we can’t arrive late and let our hard work go to waste.”

The street was long and grand; it took them a while to reach the main plaza. There, at its end, was the palace’s entrance. The plaza was crowded, but every angel that wasn’t a soldier was standing respectfully at the sides, to watch how the warriors ventured into the most important building of their citadel. All the soldiers were wearing their armors and their trusty weapons; their steps were sure and firm while they ascended the stony stairs to the doors.

Einar was the first to reach the stairs; he paid no mind to the commoners around him, he only touched his old family sword as he ventured in, like he did the past times, like a mantra. On the other hand, Angus did look around him, less entranced by the sacred structure; his expression brightened, and he halted, because he saw what most lightened his heart. Aurora stepped forward in between the crowd and neared him shyly. She was tugging at her long robes, seeming slightly worried.

“Wait, brother.”

He moved aside from the stairs, to allow the other warriors to go in. Once out of the way, he took her hand into his and tried to cheer her up. He knew what worried her, and he thought it was unnecessary for her to fidget like that.

“Hey, why are you making that face?” He grinned like a fool again, knowing it always managed to entertain her. “Aren’t you supposed to always shine like your name?”

Aurora was not amused by his sheepish smiles this time. She frowned and sighed, to then give him a tired stare.

“Angus, stop jesting for a second, please. You know well this could be the last time I see you. I have come to say good luck, just in case.”

The one chosen in the chamber would not be allowed to see anyone before taking their leap down the abyss. She knew, both knew. He still was dismissive towards her worries.

“Aw, that head of yours, always thinking over needless things.” She did not like that he rustled her hair jokingly. While he laughed, she glared at him in frustration. “I’ll see you in five hours, when these old men are done rambling. Then we will go have dinner at my house, and spend some time chatting near a fine fire in the chimney.”

“But-”

He didn’t let his little sister say anything else. He knew she would have voiced all her fears in a fast outburst, so he only did one thing. Aurora was silenced by the kiss on her forehead; he did so quietly, and quickly. With that, he moved away, with a last tug at her hand. She could only keep still while he moved up the steps, not looking back. There were never goodbyes with him, just hellos.

He showed no worries, but as soon as he moved into the palace and was out of sight behind the huge doors, his face shifted faintly to show his inner conflict. He did worry about this and his sister; but his hope of seeing Aurora again was stronger, and so, his dismissal for his possible departure.

His heart was in the right place. He had no doubts, if he did in fact get chosen, he would leap without doubt. He spotted Einar ahead, in between some other soldiers. He moved and managed to stand by his side in the crowd. Both stood in silence, for speaking in this moment was highly frowned upon. The room was huge, and there were hundreds of them in it, but there was barely any sound. The white stony surfaces would echo with the morning prayers, but now, there was nothing but a painful peace. The two of them were holding their breaths, sharing a feeling of hope, a thought of brotherhood. Deep down, they knew they were just a number, one in a million. They still skipped a beat of heart when the ceremony began.

The doors were closed. The echo of their weight being pushed by four guards rumbled in the chamber. When they slammed shut, anyone could say thunder echoed. Without the light from the outside, the room was left dim lighted, grimly lit by a few candles on the walls and balcony in front of them all. In that dim light, something above gleamed. No soldier could see, but above in that balcony, stood the sacred orb, on a pedestal. Only the priests could see it, for now, and they as always had a reason for this congregation.

The crystal had glinted early in the morning. It had shined faintly, something that happened rarely. It was a sign, a signal for them all to come together, to present its glow. With every hour, the orb’s glint would grow, and now, it was finally as clear as it could be. That bright glint had slowly turned grey, and then foggy. The priests had seen the reflections inside, a vision, of something. Or someone. Two reddish glints moved in the vision, in the dark. Two fangs peeked in a sly smile, two ram horns leaned daintily, and two sharp claws clenched, bloody. The demon yawned in the reflection of the orb while it held a human skull in front of its red eyes.

As always, the orb was displaying a clear vision of the human world. It was showing a repulsive beast, a creature that preyed on the humans that they swore to shield. The priests were disgusted by the view, but knew they had to touch the orb. They had to lift it, and then near it to their most capable warriors, for their deity to signal who could challenge such beast, with a brighter glow, which would overcome the dark vision. It always worked this way, for centuries. A vision would appear, a demon would be shown, and a single bright glow would flow in the orb. However, the eye their god left them had always had a mind of its own.

As soon as the priests tried to touch and hold the sphere on their hands, something unexpected happened. Some of the priests grew confused, because the view shifted slightly, on a different angle. The demon had been in a dark cave, and the vision twisted to show its dark corners. All looked at each other while the orb showed another demon, which looked painfully similar to the first. Ram horns, red eyes, sharp claws and fangs. One of the elders whispered, perplexed by what he was seeing.

“Twins?”

Eight thin tails, four for each. All of them were moving slyly in the dark; both demons were sharing a cunning smile. The first seen demon tossed the human skull to his brother, who toyed with it mockingly.

The priests were about to speak and break the silence of the palace even more, but one stopped them from doing so. All of them were ages old, but only one was ancient enough to have seen this, something that had happened millenniums ago. The high priest stood from his shadowed throne and neared the others with a smile. He just raised a hand, to ask for tranquility; with just a look, he made sure to let know that he had seen this before, and that there was nothing to fear. The orb was not failing them; it was not making them choose between preys, nor giving an angel more responsibility than before. The high priest lifted the heavy orb, and was not surprised to see what it soon contained. Instead of one bright glow, two grew slowly into view. Those two lights were pushing and flowing separately, not as one like usual. They were moving against their confinement, as if seeking something.

Below, the soldiers would not leave their stance, but they were beginning to grow weary. A young novice dared to whisper, being his first time in the palace.

“What’s taking so long?”

His answer was a glare from an older warrior. The silent answer could have been harsh and adequate, but all had to admit the question was justified. All, even if trusting, shared the same thought, the same nervousness and anticipation. It was uncommon for angels to delay.

Their collective answer soon came into view. All their stoic expressions changed when the priests walked down the stairs of the balcony. Not even the coldest soldier managed to hide their awe for what they saw. It took the front of the crowd a few seconds to react and let the priests move forward between them, because they were taken aback by the two lights that moved in the orb. All the soldiers soon saw clearly, and all were fascinated by this occurrence. The light would always grow strong the closer the orb got to the chosen one. But now, the two lights would grow in intensity at different paces, and push against their boundaries in slightly unalike directions.

A heart skipped a beat. Silver wings froze as soon as the artefact neared; Einar shuddered with shock, while the priests stood right in front of him. The first glow could not be any brighter; all the other soldiers moved away, yet the light only seemed to crave his presence, it looked like it wanted to escape its containment and touch him. Angus frowned solemnly, realizing that the wishes of his friend had come true. He moved; he stepped back, to create a division between him and the more capable warrior, to show respect. However, that motion revealed something. As soon as he moved away with the rest of the crowd, the second light faded slightly and twisted with less strength. Einar had been entranced by the revelation that he would be the one to leap, but he did notice the motion of that second light. He looked sideways, and like if he just noticed Angus there, he stared at him with surprised eyes.

Einar was the first to have the notion of who the second light was seeking; it took Angus and the priests a few seconds more to realize it. The elders carried the orb around, making sure to keep Einar close enough. Angus watched as they neared the nearby soldiers, one by one; his wings twitched more nervously, with every step they took. Soon his wings were closed and folded as much as they could be, for he ended up staring at the orb himself, right there, at hand. He did not understand, but Einar did; the angel of silver wings had no recognizable emotion on his expression.

The painful silence only lasted a few seconds. The high priest spoke from the balcony, coldly, even if wearing a smile.

“So is fate.” He moved away above, with content. “Lead them both to their designed chambers.”

Angus was surrounded by priests, who laid their hands on him, to lead him deeper into the palace. He looked back for a moment, to the huge doors that led outside. He showed sorrow in his eyes; Einar did not. The taller angel did not need to be directed like he was; he marched forward by himself, desiring glory.

—————–

She had to find a way.

Two guards were patrolling diligently, marching near the walls of the grand palace. Their eyes glared below their helmets, their steps echoed through the alley. Their shadows loomed over the walls of the street, able to intimidate any other angel.

It did not intimidate her enough.

Aurora peeked from behind the crates, glaring at the two guards that marched away. They had not seen her, and did not realize that she was now glaring holes through them. As soon as she was sure they could not hear her, she stood and unfolded her long bright wings. She looked up again, to the big glassy window she had been trying to climb into, before those two marched into the alley. She patted off the dust on her detailed robes, not amused by the fact she had to pressure herself between crates to hide.

“I had just combed my wings.”

She shook her head with a small snarl. There was no time for her to complain mentally about her wings, she had to get in there.

Angus had not come back. She had waited by the doors, hands clasped; she had watched every single soldier get out. But Angus had not left the palace, no matter for how long she waited. The hours had passed, and she kept telling herself that he was just stalling, that he would get out and pat her back harshly at any moment. But he never did. The anxious whispers in her head soon became fearful screams; she could not stand there waiting anymore.

She flapped her wings, and with a jump, she held onto the frames of the window above. She thrashed a little, wings batting nervously behind her; she grimaced, because she dared look down. She could fly, but she had never done something like this, not since she was a child and ran around with Angus mindlessly.

“Look at you… breaking into the most sacred place you could choose to profane.”

If anyone spotted her, she would be kicked out of priesthood. Hell, she was sure they could even exile her, even if such law did not exist. No one had ever done this; she was breaking several unspoken commandments. It was even worse that she was the one doing this; all the elders thought she was flawless, a role model for all aspiring priests. She was doing something that could forever ruin her vocation, which she had worked so hard to achieve, with restless hours of labor.

“And why?”

Because she was as foolish as her big brother, that was why.

She groaned and fumbled with the window with one hand, while the other made sure to keep her hanging. She said a very mild vulgarity, because she realized the window was closed shut, from the inside. It was to be expected from the most guarded place in the citadel, but she had been hopeful.

That did not stop her. After a very deep breath, and the mental reassurance that she had to commit this crime, she snapped her fingers. Her hand tangled in flames, and not to light street lamps like every day. The window had frames of metal, which looked like could be opened long ago. She slammed her hand onto the frame, and prayed the heat would twist it enough to let it be heaved at.

“Come on, you stupid thing, move.”

She needed this one window to open. This side of the palace housed the guests’ chambers, were all chosen soldiers stayed for a night, before being led to the abyss in the morning. She couldn’t just walk in right through the main gates and parade herself through the halls for every guard to see. The sun had set, and if she didn’t get in there now, it was sure she wouldn’t see her brother again.

With a noisy creak, the frame finally twitched backwards. Aurora gasped, and then gently pushed ahead onto the glass. The window took a lot of effort to be moved, but at last she managed to push it inwards into the building. She peeked anxiously into the room, afraid of seeing a soldier in there.

The chamber she was looking into was almost pitch black. There was a bed, a desk with a small candle, some furniture… but nothing else that she could see. She was sure that there was no one in this bedroom, so she slowly crawled down the window. She stood in the room, wondering how safe she was from being spotted if she walked out one of the two doors, wondering where her brother could be. She was tugging at her long hair while she pondered, not realizing she wasn’t quite alone.

Her eyes opened fully when the edge of a sword lifted itself parallel in front of her. She dared not move while the voice questioned from behind her.

“It takes a lot of nerve to break into this sacred palace.” The voice grew softer, less scolding. “Or imprudence, perhaps.”

She slowly turned around. She finally saw Einar there, pointing his sword, not menacingly, just in warning. He had hidden in the shadows of his room, having heard her fumble with his window.

“Einar…”

He finally lowered his sword, supported its point on the floor, and clasped his hands on its handle. He stared at her vacantly, with a trace of curiosity.

“I have always known you shared your brother’s audacity, Aurora; but I didn’t know that you did to this extent. You’ve always shown more caution than him; until now. I am honestly surprised, maybe disappointed. What will the priests say if they find out of this?”

“If, Einar, if they find out.” She glared, defiant under his inquisitive stare. “Even if you call the guards now, even if you tell the elders later, I do not care. I’m here to see Angus; I know it can be the last time I’m able to, I know well what’s going to happen. You are the last of a lineage of fearsome angels; you may not fear death and its implications, so I don’t expect you to understand the urgency I feel.”

Demons were dangerous creatures, angel killers. The very thought of her brother nearing one made her quiver; the thought of him dying, away from her, horrified her.

Einar leaned his head, much less emotional than her.

“I do worry about death. Maybe not in the same way as you, but I do think of it.” He smiled faintly, bitter. “As you say, I am indeed the last of my bloodline. My whole ancestry has perished with time or hardship. However, all have left a legacy behind them. I do not plan to die without leaving a mark; Angus and I, we are going to cleanse part of that world, as expected from us. We both have been chosen to bring honor to our race, and that’s what we shall do.”

Aurora tensed, her spiky wings puffed. She glared more angrily at Einar, and he did not miss how her hand moved subtly, like when she lighted the street lamps.

“So, you’re going to stop me, to honor your principles?”

Einar said nothing. She expected him to point his family sword at her, to yell for the guards to come running and seize her, to curse her for breaking the common law. He did none of those things. The prideful angel tucked his silver wings and walked around her silently. She blinked as he pushed one of the doors open and peeked out into the outer corridor. Once he did, he looked back, and then spoke seriously and grimly.

“Angus is staying the night in the last chamber at the end of the corridor. I suggest avoiding turning the corner of the hallway, for there are guards there.”

She was perplexed by his gesture. She knew Einar for years, and she knew that he wasn’t one to even think of stepping out of line. He always behaved with discipline, without a single trace of disobedience.

“Einar, I don’t recognize you. Not even my brother has managed to drag you away from a simple day of training in all these years.”

This was different, and he could not ignore it like he always did; he was not rejecting a silly invitation to the tavern, nor the idea of shunning his additional duties in favor of slacking. He understood her fears, even if he didn’t share them. His wings flapped and glinted in the dim light, with less patience.

“Do not make me think twice, Aurora.” He frowned, looking away. “I’m breaking multiple vows, but I’ll make sure those guards are busy while you see him. Go before I change my mind.”

She quickly stepped towards the door, to his side. He thought she would finally keep going, but was surprised by what she did next. She pulled at his face with her hands, and left him a soft kiss on the cheek. Even their wings brushed for a second, a touch few angels felt. He blinked, confused by a gesture he had never received; she just smiled warmly, and then ran out the room towards Angus’ chamber. He stood there, watching her hurry away, frozen. It took him a few seconds to remember what he had planned. He shook his head and glared towards the corner of the hallway; he could see the shadows of the guards walking towards their direction, ready to turn. He got out of his room and got to them before they could turn and spot her.

While Einar interrupted the guards with some meaningless hassles, Aurora reached the last door. She trusted Einar’s word, for he was an angel who hated lies; she pushed the door open, sure that it really was the one where Angus stayed and not an empty room. She was expecting many things, but not what happened as soon as she set foot into the chamber. She jolted and yelped, because a strong startled yell echoed.

“W-who goes there?!”

Aurora ducked after the yell. After a blink, she paled, looking down at the war hammer that had been flung her way, now on the floor. The door had now a nice dent. Both siblings blinked at each other, one at the door, clasping her chest after the scare, the other still half way out of the broken window in the room, hand still raised after the throw of hammer. Angus had a dumber look on his face than her; he was crouching on the broken window clumsily, his body was halfway out through it. As soon as his mind realized that he was staring at Aurora, and not a guard, he fell backwards. While he hissed and hit his butt on the floor, she overcame her scare.

“You careless…! Who flings a hammer when someone comes into their room?!”

Angus barked back, as angrily as her.

“How was I supposed to know it was you and not a soldier patrolling around?! What are you even doing here?!”

She pointed a hand at the window, the one from which he had been ready to jump out from.

“Me?! I have come to see you! What were you doing crawling out?!”

“I was the one going to see you! I was sneaking out of here, ’cause there’s no way I could have imagined my goodie two shoes sister breaking into the most important place in the whole damn citadel!”

“And I couldn’t have imagined my stubborn brother jeopardizing the opportunity of his lifetime, which he dreamed of since he was a brat!”

Angus finally stood off his butt and hurried to her side. He placed a hand onto her mouth, looking worried and nervous.

“Shh! Stop yelling, or you will wake even the most sluggish patron in the tavern.”

She swatted his hand down, glaring.

“I’m not yelling, you’re yelling. I was just-” She stopped, expression twisting. The moment of surprise passed, leaving her with the same feeling of dread and sorrow that had made her seek him. “Brother, I…”

Angus left behind the bickering as well. His heart twisted, seeing those eyes begin to tear up slightly. She had thought of many things to say in the way, but now she was at a loss of words. She huffed, because he limited himself to pull her into a tight hug. He covered them both with his big short wings, letting her tremble. She began to jolt under his hold; her head sunk onto his shoulder, and he could feel the moist sensation of tears being shed near his feathers. Her whispers became more soft and broken.

“You have always dreamed of this moment… But I’ve… I have always hated it, Angus.” Her voice turned bitter, almost scolding. “You couldn’t have chosen to join priesthood like me, no; you had to join the militia. And not just the sentinels or city patrols, no; you had to join the royal guard, the most adept segment of it all, the one that could lead you into this mess. I hoped this would never happen; many families never see their offspring rise so high in ranks, and I always thought you were just another number between hundreds. I know this is a great honor, and that there could not be a greater purpose, but I’m afraid of what might happen. Why couldn’t you settle for something less grand? Brother, why do you have to be so stubborn?”

“I am stubborn, Aurora.” He grimaced, letting out a long sigh. He couldn’t stand being the cause of his sister’s plight, so he did the only thing he knew he could do. He smiled like a fool. “I am thick headed, obstinate, and maybe a little crazy. So I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.”

She looked up at last, not understanding his silly looking grin. She wiped her tears angrily, puzzled by his words.

“You aren’t making any sense, as always.”

He chuckled, and then ruffled her hair like he always did. She would have swatted him, but the way he spoke next made her listen intently.

“There’s no way I’m letting a demon keep me away from seeing my sister again. No matter how big, how scary they are. I have been shown mine; it is a pathetic trim excuse of a goat-thing. I won’t die down there, not even if fate commands it; I’m too stubborn to let it happen. I’ll kill the beast which I’m bound with, and I’ll be back to you. I’ll be rewarded as a hero, and I’ll make sure to invest all of it wisely, to compensate all the worries I’ve given you. I can’t allow myself to fail. Who would cheer up your boring days in the temple? Who would make sure you eat more substantial things than the flat food they give you priests? Who would enjoy your bright smile, if not me?”

She shook her head. She moved aside and crouched to pick up his hammer on the ground. When she stood again to hand it to him, she was still crying, but now less sadly.

“You can never stop jesting, can you? Not even in the most worrisome of moments.” She sighed and looked up to the ceiling, not quite able to look at his smile. “You have to promise you won’t fool around when you face that thing.”

He finally dropped his smile and placed his hand on hers. He gave her the most sincere look he could, one filled with gravity and care.

“I won’t. Everything I care for depends on it.”

Both held onto their hammer, looking at the other’s eyes. After a minute of silence, she began to speak, but not words that reflected on their strong bond. She began to whisper a prayer, in an ancient tongue, holding onto his hands and his weapon. Her eyes were closed, while she recited the only thing that could give her comfort now. The words that she recited for decades were a mantra; she prayed that he would be safe, that he would return, and that fate would see to it. Years of teaching had made him a reverent warrior; he could seem lighthearted to his close ones, but he was as dedicated as Einar deep inside. He believed as well in the prayers she was giving, and so closed his eyes with her. Both leaned their foreheads against the other, holding hands; he was better than her containing the anguish they both felt. In the end, he joined her words, the last and most important for them.

“Post fatum, ut nostra delectatio carorum.”

No matter what, fate would take them back to their loved ones.

They raised their heads, having no more to pray for. They shared another glance into their eyes, saying many things without word. Angus looked away first; he glanced back at the window he had broken, knowing she could not stay for much longer.

“You should go.”

She knew that Einar was winning her time, but there was only so much he could do. The guards were zealous of their traditions, and the elders would make sure Angus and Einar honored their oaths. She had to leave, before anyone could suspect she was here; it could ruin their future, their status, and their very lives.

She slowly followed his lead; he pulled her towards the window, with a gentle hold on her hand. Reluctantly, she climbed onto the frame of the gap, but stayed crouched there, facing the chamber and him. Her wings flapped and shivered with the cold air outside, but she was not taking flight yet. She smiled sadly, trying to contain her tears.

“Take care, Angus.”

He did not let go of her hand yet, not even if she pushed herself out. He smiled back, watching her fly on place, knowing it could be the last time he would see those beautiful wings in motion.

“See you soon, Aurora.”

There were no goodbyes with him. She let go of his hand and moved a little more away from the window, with a quick flap of wings. In the moment she stayed near for him to see, he believed the sight blissful. But that moment did not last. His expression twisted with sorrow, because she heard a noise down in the street and rushed up in the air, seeking refuge in the shadows of the towers above. She was gone, leaving only the dark for him to see.

He reached with a hand, and touched the only thing that hinted she had been there; he grabbed the bright feather that floated near the window, and pulled it onto his chest like if it was a treasure.

He glared up to the night sky, dreading and hoping for the morning sun.

—————

They stood upright, never showing doubt. Their expressions were cold, their stances firm.

Any human would have shivered at the sight. Mere feet away rested a huge abyss, black as night, tangling with a white fog on its sharp edge.

Neither of the two showed fear; their eyes were full of determination and righteousness. The elders were standing behind them, watching, but their presence was not needed for them to confront this task. They were sure of themselves, even proud to do so.

The high priest soon marched from in between the elders. He stepped in front of them, and as protocol commanded, spoke while they remained silent before him.

“It is singular for two angels to be called at once; we can only see this as a sign.” He pointed at them both with his hands, smiling serenely. “You must not only leap down to serve your winged brothers left behind, but yourselves. Take this as a sign to share your strength and might, to aid your comrade in their quest. Raise your weapons, side to side, and be a shield in need. Do so, and fate will surely see you succeed. May both of you return, children.”

They were not children, far from it. They both were the mirror image of a flawless soldier; strong enough to break stone, diligent enough to endure a drought, and cold enough to endure the deepest of burdens. Both were wearing their most heavy and detailed armor, their eyes were shadowed by their helmets. Their weapons were sheathed, but present in their minds.

Einar was the first to unsheathe his long sword, as soon as the high priest stepped aside with a light lean. The tall angel spread his silver wings open, and stepped even closer to the edge in front of him. He did not look back or sideways, but knew that Angus had taken out his hammer as well. Angus did not look at him; he only whispered a few words, ready to leap.

“See you at the other side.”

Einar was gracious enough to allow Angus to jump first. He watched those brown wings unfold, open wide with the fall. Angus was diving headfirst, eyes closed, hammer at his side. With a deep breath, he followed his friend. Einar jumped less fiercely, more graciously; he let his weight fall forward, and slowly opened his wings while he slipped off the edge. He held his sword in front of his chest with both hands, never closing his eyes while he fell.

There was no gravity in the black void. There was no wind. They only managed to keep their wings from dangling thanks to their pride and strength. They battled the fogginess in their minds, which they soon found to be unnatural and not caused by the endless fall. Angus was the first to surrender to it, realizing it was a lost battle. Einar, on the other hand, was too prideful to let his consciousness go willfully. He kept struggling to keep himself awake, even when all that he could see was blackness. His eyes were closing, but he kept glaring, not wanting to be like every single angel that had fallen. In the end, no matter how much he wanted to prove his will, he succumbed.

Both faded through in the dark depths.

————–

He felt warmth.

His feathers shivered. The warmth he felt crept slowly all over him. At first, his wings kept him from feeling it much, but time soon allowed the warmth to go through the barrier his feathers provided. It was hot around him, and he could feel it more with every second. His eyes opened at last, realizing he was laying on something slightly blazing.

Angus pushed himself up with his hands, looking down at the sand he had been laying on. He frowned, looking around him. He was under the sun, in a sandy field, which only had a single dried tree. Far away in the distance, he could see a mountain with more vegetation, but everything here was barren.

He stood with a groan and began to pat the dust off his heavy armor. He wiped some sweat off his forehead and flapped his wings angrily behind him, kicking some sand off as well.

“Beautiful landing spot; could hang a drawing of it above my bed, to see it every morning I wake.”

His sarcastic words were unheard. He was in the middle of nowhere, with no one in sight, not even a small critter.

He had known his whereabouts would be unknown, he had known that he would appear anywhere possible in this world; he just expected to appear somewhere different. The weather was too intense for his liking, the sun was towering over everything; he would have preferred a snowy environment, which his wings could have shielded him from.

He had no time to complain, the heat would not slow him. He had arrived, and one thing was clear: angels always appeared near their objective. So he began to move, once he made sure his weapon was with him. His expression was stoic, cold, firm; he knew what he had to do. He did not fly, for he was weary of demons jumping on him.

There were two objectives, both as important to him.

—————-

He moved silently, like a predator. One could question which race was more feral, more deadly. Einar watched in between rocks the two who he had chased for weeks. He glared from above, at those four tails, far down below. He could hear the voices, tangled with hate and slight urgency.

“I can’t stand this dammed heat; when will we stop running?!”

Demons rarely sought the company of their own kind, but even their reclusive race felt the bonds of blood. That did not mean most had a pleasant relationship. The other demon snarled, tired of the ramblings of his sibling.

“Lower your voice, will you? We’ve beaten that excuse of a hawk and made him recoil, but that does not mean he’s not giving chase. He could be near, waiting to attack again.” The demon slammed a claw on his chest, trying to make his brother understand. “We both are bound, but your angel is nowhere to be seen yet. I can feel this fucking pulse, it’s making me go mad; it’s shifting like crazy, my angel is moving, closing in on us, hiding somewhere we can’t see. I don’t know how we managed to outrun him, but it was only thanks to being two versus one.”

The slower sibling panted, again complaining, much to his brother’s displeasure.

“Hey, don’t pretend like I can’t feel this dammed ache as well, my angel could get closer too. Why don’t we just finish yours off? Now we have a better chance, don’t we?”

They kept walking through the hot landscape, always guided by the more stern of the two.

“I could find him easily, but I’d rather not confront him yet; he is strong, we need to flee, for now. Stop complaining like a wimp and move, before we’re found again; we are almost there.”

Einar’s eyes glinted with interest, because the other demon revealed a detail he had not known before.

“What makes you think that tribe will protect us? We aren’t exactly welcomed… They surely know we’ve stolen before from other demons like them. They’ll hand our asses to that damn angel.”

His brother stopped walking. Those red eyes narrowed, fangs showing in a malicious grin. The words were sly, calculative, relaxed; the tails moved side to side gleefully.

“No, we will be the ones to hand them to the angel, brother. Angels love to chase our kind; the more, the merrier. That thing will spend some nice time with those fools, chatting and drinking tea, while we get away unscathed.”

The sibling smiled, chuckling with the words of his brother. Both shared a laugh, making the skulls that they wore on their leathery robes swing.

Einar did not move while the two demons resumed their journey. He had been chasing and watching them from a safe distance for days, waiting for the perfect chance to kill them swiftly. He was resentful, for he had attacked them both in the night and had been forced to retreat, outnumbered. They had given him a good hit with those ram horns of theirs, and he was dying to make them pay. However, he was always cold as ice; he knew now that they were headed in one direction: right towards more of their repulsive kind.

The angel batted a little his slender silver wings and proceeded to climb down the uneven terrain between his prey and him. He refused to fly, he did not leap up to the sky to reach them in a matter of seconds; he just kept watching while the two headed for the hills ahead, greener than the ground they walked on now.

He was concealed, hidden between tall arid rocks; no one could see him there. Or so he thought. He gasped silently, because he sensed movement of air, thanks to his sensible feathers, which noticed any subtle current. He turned his head to look up; he glared at the blue sky, but saw nothing but clouds. Before he could question his senses, his hearing warned him again; he heard the sound of subtle steps, above and behind him.

He quickly unsheathed his long sword and turned around sharply, to point at the one who had sneaked towards him downhill. He was ready to lash at the one who dared near unannounced… until he realized who he was pointing his sword at.

Angus did not move, not until Einar processed fully his presence before him. The taller angel let out a breath, and then lowered his sword. Angus had been flying above, but like Einar had heard, he had then sneaked in between the uneven terrain.

“Heavens, Angus, I could have driven my sword into you.”

Angus scoffed with a smile, shaking his head as well. Both used an even tone, whispering.

“I could have called you from above, as soon as I saw those glittering silver wings of yours… But I don’t think you would have been the only one to hear me. I didn’t want to ruin your cover; I am not as careless as you may think.” He batted his short big wings, and then looked up to the other’s eyes tiredly. “I really wish I could have greeted my friend loudly, after such a long year. Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess.”

Einar sheathed his sword and smiled as well. Both angels left behind their tense stances for a moment, in which they gave each other a heartfelt hug. They didn’t let go, not even if they knew that they were losing sight of their objectives in the moment. A whole year they had spent in this world, chasing each other and their devils; at last they united.

“Einar, you don’t have any idea of how far I have had to fly to find you. I was beginning to think I wouldn’t find you alive. I see you’ve been hot on their heels.”

“Hmm, I can in fact believe so; we angels never fall close enough. These two have given me quite the headache these past weeks. I knew you would find your devil with time, so I gave chase as soon as I had a clue where they were.”

“No waiting for your old companion, huh?” Angus gave a slight punch to Einar’s arm, joking. “You always want to have all the glory for yourself; you surely wanted to kill them both without me!”

“Oh, I tried.” Einar pointed to the hills ahead, motioning where the two devils were last seen. “I almost managed to steal your kill; until my demon rammed me off yours.”

Angus’ eyes had a hopeful flame; he let go of Einar and took his trusty hammer into his fist.

“What are we waiting for?” He opened his wings again, ready to leap out of their hideout. “They’re right there; we’re together now. Let’s bash their skulls in and mend your hurt ego!”

As soon as Angus had seen Einar’s silver wings from above, he had felt hope. A year of searching, both his ally and friend, and the creature whose death could send him back home. He was hopeful, close at last to his objective, eager to achieve the task he had to fulfill. He could already picture his return, the warmth of his home, and the loving embrace of Aurora… But it all faded when he tried to jump and fly into action. As soon as he tried to leap up, he felt Einar’s grip on his arm, keeping him of seeking their devils.

“Don’t.”

He let his weight rest on his feet again. He glared at Einar, waving his hammer angrily all the while.

“What are you doing?” He swatted Einar’s hold off, confused. “They’re right there! We just have to reach them! We can do it, now that we’re together! Don’t tell me they scare you now!”

Einar looked him down, not amused by that last accusation.

“I would never be scared of those wretched beings.” He folded his long silver wings, and stood like if he were to voice a sermon. “Angus, do not get into a fight; not yet. Hear me out; control your urge.”

Indeed, Angus looked about to leap into the air at any moment. It took him some seconds to breathe out and lower his hammer and wings, in order to hear what Einar wanted to say.

“Fine. Speak; but I swear, if it’s some silly plan of yours to have some sort of stupid minimal advantage, I will jump and fight them both, in the very instant you stop rambling nonsense.”

Einar, just to annoy Angus, allowed himself some seconds before proceeding to explain. Once he was satisfied by how frustrated Angus looked, he began to speak, slowly.

“Angus, I think I wish to kill those two fiends more than you; you should know it. Breathe in, breathe out; calm your passionate agitation. I was as restless as you are when I first saw them; I almost paid with my life. We need to be cautious, even more. Besides…” The tall angel smiled, in a way Angus saw before. He had seen that look, every time Einar reflected on how he would rise in rank, or how he would impress the elders. There was fire in him, even desire. “I’ve heard these two siblings bicker. My hearing is sharp, Angus, you know it. They are headed into a den.”

“A den?” Angus climbed onto higher ground, just to look over the landscape ahead. “You mean…”

Einar climbed as well, crouching by his side. His voice had interest, and maybe hate.

“These two are headed right towards more of their disgusting kind.” He looked sideways at Angus, pointing ahead with a hand. “We can do more than rid the world of two vile creatures. We can do much more.”

Those last words, they were full of hopeful pride, of a rage born out of ambition.

Angus stared ahead in silence for a while. Both their wings were folded, but their feathers were shivering with each thought they had.

“You know it can be dangerous.”

Einar nodded, smiling. He knew that Angus was pondering, not really needing an answer, which he gave.

“Oh, so dangerous. Deadly even.” He moved his whole arm, displaying the distance ahead like it was a brewing storm. “I don’t know how many devils there could be waiting for us, but surely, enough for it to be hell.”

“Hell, you say. A hellhole, possibly of no return.”

“It could be endless. An unending torture if we fail to get out; trapped in there, without being allowed to die a merciful death.”

Angus laid a hand on his braided beard; he caressed it for a minute, musing to himself. After a while, he grinned, chuckling. Einar was not disappointed when his friend stood tall, clasping his hammer tightly once more.

“Sounds fun!” He swung his arm, like if he was getting ready for a drunken fight. “We already signed up for that possibility when we jumped down! We’ve got more to win than lose at this point, don’t we?! A lot of devils dead, at the risk of our lives! What can be better than to die killing many of the things that taint this place?!”

“Could have not worded it better, friend.” Einar unfolded his wings. He bowed forward, arm outstretched, like an invitation. “Shall we?”

Angus answered by jumping down the ledge where they had been crouching. Einar smiled, following him slowly, while Angus sneaked through the landscape at a faster pace. Both used their wings to get through, without getting out from between the rocks, not wanting to be an easy sight above.

They slowly followed the path their devils took; they let them advance, and reach the place where their kind nested. They hoped for a chance to shed more blood onto their weapons, for the chance to rid this place of more vermin.

————-

It was not a big settlement.

Both watched from above. Neither of them could be seen, not while they stood in between sharp edges, like eagles on a cliff. The arid mountain loomed all over the valley, giving them a perfect view of everything that roamed below under the sun. The demons in the valley would look like ants if any human glanced from the mountain top. They could see every single one of them; their angelic eyes could even see their inhuman expressions, so ignorant of their presence there.

“Look at them. How can they live this way?”

Einar was glaring, full of disgust. Angus leaned his head, as serious as him, but more curious. The demons below did not live like angels did, far from it. There were no houses, no buildings, much less temples, not one place for worship. There were campfires, tents and caravans. Every single one of those creatures was settled there, surrounded by others of their kin. All were talking, or handling mindless tasks. Some were playing some rudimentary instruments, some were laughing, doing nothing but sit and talk there by their carts. Even if some of them seemed to argue, most of the caravans and tents were connected by ropes, where many clothes, bags, coverings, and belongings hanged over the clandestine main street.

Both angels were bewildered by how the demons acted as a group, even though small. Both only came to the same conclusion, unable to see any humanity there.

“A disgusting den…” Einar shook his wings angrily, scoffing. “How many critters are there?”

Angus frowned. There were kids running, yelling and playing down there. The adults were not paying much mind to them, only from time to time.

“Demons seem to have a lot of children, don’t they?”

“Those are not children.” Angus did not object to the next words. “Those things will grow, and end up becoming as corrupt as their makers.”

Angus nodded reluctantly, remembering all the years of preaching and conviction.

“Yes. Sadly, time only will make their true nature bloom.” He sighed, holding his hammer more tightly. “It is unnerving to see them hold some kind of innocence, deep in those sharp inhuman eyes.”

The demons below had human-like faces. However, the children had small claws, which would soon grow to be talons, like the older ones had. These devils had feathers, which grew chaotically out of their shoulders, head, and lower backs, without ever being wings or limbs. Their bodies were slender, slightly bent, like a bird of prey. Einar did not doubt to voice his disdain for them, offended by their feathers, a familiar trait.

“They hold no such thing as innocence. They are vile since birth, and their looks prove it. Just see how-” Both stopped, because they noticed something. Einar held an arm up, warning. “Look. Down there.”

Angus did as told. Like Einar, he spotted the two figures walking out from between some trees, in the vicinity of the settlement. They were not surprised to see those tails, swinging with arrogance. The two fiendish siblings had reached the nomads at last, after going past the mountain behind them.

Below, the two brothers stepped forward, almost maliciously, grinning with the sight of their objective. The nomads had been blissful of what they thought a normal evening, another uneventful day, right until they saw those two. The kids stopped playing tag, some scrambled away when the two stepped into the street. The adults frowned, the music stopped sharply; some stood in front of the children, not doubting to show their fangs in their scowls. The siblings did not seem intimidated by how most of the nomads tensed, even clenching their claws.

“Look at this.” One of the fiends snorted, glancing at his brother with a smirk. He then looked again at the other demons, raising his hands up tauntingly. “Is this how you show your hospitality? By glaring at strangers?”

The one who seemed to be the patriarch stepped forward. He was an old demon, with grey eyes and half fallen feathers. He spat at the brother’s feet, not afraid to say what all of them thought.

“You are not strangers.” All the nomads were glaring at their leather robes. Many skulls were tied there, with many trinkets that they had stolen. “You’re nothing but brutes, and damn well known in this region because of your disgusting actions. Humans here don’t want us around as it is, and you only make things worse. You’re not only unwelcomed; we want you out of here, now.”

The two fiends did not lose their smirks under the glare of the older demon. They only became more arrogant; one of them raised his arms, and then asked around tauntingly.

“We thought this tribe was known for its hospitality!” He licked his fangs, looking at a woman who watched from her caravan. “We thought you would welcome us with open arms, at least let us rest for a night, near the safety your settlement provides. Maybe your standing is a blatant lie. You’ll let two strangers leave; even if they are tired of their long journey, just because of the slander they have thrown upon them.”

The patriarch growled silently, conflicted. He tensed and took and angry step forward, like if he wanted to get physical, anxious to get the two away. He seemed determined, but was doubtful to get into a fight; he noticed well that as soon as his own fist clenched the brothers leaned subtly with their own claws open, as if to welcome his attack. Neither did anything, because the patriarch was stopped.

“Father, don’t.” He felt the hand of his elder son on his shoulder. The younger demon pleaded, with concern. “We know better than to seek violence.”

The patriarch grimaced, looking again around him. There were many here, all looking worriedly at the two intruders and their home. The children were hiding behind crates or caravans, the parents were ready to move in case of trouble.

These two would not listen to words, and they would not retreat if confronted with force, he knew.

So he looked them in the eye, and spoke very slowly and carefully, menacingly even.

“You can stay, for a night.”

“Great!” The two clapped their hands, seemingly oblivious to all the glares. They stepped forward, as if to pick a caravan where to stay. “We knew your people were honorable, like everyone says! We’ll just make ourselves comfortable somewhere and-”

“You can make yourself comfortable in that dusty small tent by the trees, out of my sight.”

The brothers blinked and followed the patriarch’s point of finger. There it was, almost hidden away from the rest of the camp, a small ugly tent, where a lot of branches and firewood laid. They would fit there, if they made sure to tuck all their limbs close.

One of the brothers scowled and seemed ready to bark. Luckily, the smart one of the two smiled and intervened.

“Of course, it will do.” He nudged his brother’s side strongly, compelling him to shut up and follow him there. “We’ll be perfectly fine there; it has… cover from the night.”

The two fiends marched out from the main street, never returning the glares they received along the way. Once they got far enough at the side of the camp, the patriarch let out a tired sigh. He looked sideways at his son, shaking his head.

“They are only going to cause trouble, you know.”

The son nodded, giving his father a thankful look.

“We may wake to a few stolen things, but it is better this way. You’re not as strong as you used to be, father, even if your heart is as willful as before. I didn’t want you, or anyone, to get hurt.”

Both nodded, looking back tiredly at the tent they let the two stay in.

Little did they know that two angels were in the move, descending down into the valley, unseen while the sun hid.

—————–

———————–

“…I’ll never forget what happened that night.”

Alexis had a solemn sad look on his face, unable to look away from Angus’ rueful eyes. The words left his mouth, certainly.

“You killed.”

“I surely did.” Angus looked up to the damp and mossy ceiling of the cell, as if trying to pick carefully his words. “It was… I was in a haze. I remember sneaking on those people coldly, like if they were only an animal which to hunt. Then, I remember the heat, the rage I felt while moving my weapon down. And then… then it hit me.”

Alexis was not as good with words. He leaned his head and asked with a bleak tone.

“Were you wounded by the demons?”

“I wish, lad.” Angus laughed, but it was an angry and sorrowful cackle. “It hit me, that they were not as devilish as we say… and that I had become a demon myself.”

——————-

—————————

They woke up with a jolt. The brothers stood sharply onto their feet, and quickly grabbed what they had managed to steal in the tent.

“They’re here.”

They heard the second scream, and the unmistakable sound of a fiery spell.

“And sooner than we thought.”

They cut the back of the tent with their claws and bolted out. Behind them, they saw the flames shot up, and multiple figures run through the camp. What most took their attention was what moved like lightning. The older of the two pushed the younger, knowing well they had to flee.

While they tried to escape unseen, two figures dashed, scouting for every single demon they could find.

Einar had been the first to lunge from above, and had been the one to strike down an unsuspecting devil. Before that demon could hit the ground, Angus had followed, casting a fireball onto some tents and carts. The fear came, the reaction was instant. Most of the nomads got out as soon as a woman screamed, stricken next by Einar’s sword.

The angels were flying, right above the tallest cart and tents. Angus set eyes onto the men that dared face them, while the women and children tried to scatter away to safety. Einar yelled at him, commanding with blood on his face.

“I’ll chase the ones that try to flee and hide from our blades! Deal with these beasts!”

Einar flapped his wings and moved away; the demons that tried to block them from their families gasped as they failed to halt them both. Angus glared down at the armed demons, who were now looking up at him, growling, dread-filled. He leaned his hammer and took an offensive stance.

“Let’s do this.”

He came down onto them. In a second, one was already dead.

While the angels dashed, fought and chased, the brothers managed to hurry away through the shadows, ignoring all the screams and pleas. Not far from the angels, the patriarch stepped out of his tent, with haunted eyes.

“Angels…” He shook his head, hand fallen on his chest. “What have we done to deserve these monsters’ rage?”

He knew what had brought these angels, but he could not believe their kindness led to this. His son was now at his side, sword already in hand.

“Father, no time.” He grabbed his hand and glared firmly. “There’s not much we can do, we must only try to save whoever we can.”

With that, his son bolted away, with one last glance.

The patriarch watched helplessly how his son chased after two silver wings, which were flapping above a helpless group that tried to hurry away. Knowing he could not stand still, he ran towards a caravan that was burning. He could hear the screams inside; the fire had blocked the door and was preventing it from opening. He clawed at it, and once he broke it down, he snatched out the woman and child that had been trapped in.

“Out, out I said.”

He panted, too old to make much effort. The three of them jolted, for there was another scream. Their eyes filled with dread and fear; the last demon that held a weapon near them fell down. The angel with the hammer looked down at the last contestant he killed, and then… very slowly raised his gaze to them.

The old demon pushed at the mother and yelled, hearing the angel take one first step towards them.

“Take your child and run, now!”

The woman shot him a worried glance while she pulled at her son, but when she saw the angel walk and creep towards the old man, she knew to do as told. She and her son did not stop running, not even when they heard the angel move the hammer and the now familiar sound of blood dripping.

Angus glared coldly as the old demon held his shoulder. He had been charged at, claws out, and he had swung his hammer. It had not been a challenge. He took two more steps towards the demon, who was now on his knees. The devil seemed to smile, and spat at him.

“Cursed be your bloodthirsty kind…”

Angus frowned, and then answered pridefully.

“We’ll never be as cursed as you are.”

He swung his weapon down again. The demon fell.

He did not spend much time gazing at the corpse. He looked sideways, at the now deserted row of caravans and tents. It was nighttime, but the flames he had cast had grown into a sea of fire that lighted everything; it reflected on his armor, making him stand out in the shadows. There was no sight of Einar, but he could hear his wings move in the distance.

He had seen that female demon and its child, and he knew not to let any devil live. He slowly walked forward, following the way those two had went. Holding his hammer tightly, he reached a group of torn down tents and caravans. The camp ended there, secluded in shadows, where the flames had not reached yet. He looked at the long path ahead. There were no footprints; he had followed some, and they ended here. His gaze moved sideways.

Under shadows cast by a huge fallen caravan, two claws held shut one little mouth. She looked outside from her hiding spot, holding back the breath of her kid, hoping to not be heard or seen. Every second was full of fear and dread, for they could hear those steps, slowly making their way towards them.

Angus knew, and with each step he took towards that debris that hid them, he hoped they would come out and face him. They did not, even if he was right in front of them. He was sure they could see his feet from below the shadows, he was sure they were aware he was waiting. After a few seconds of grace, he acted upon what he was supposed to do. His hand moved; with flames, the caravan shook and collapsed backwards.

His stern expression did not change when he saw the aftermath of his spell. The debris had fallen down, and had collapsed onto the older demon. He stared at its still form; she was dead, yet in death, she had managed to cover her child from the debris that had crushed her lower body. He had not intended for the spell to be deadly, but he did not regret the outcome. The child moved after a few seconds, and crawled out from below his mother’s body. The kid gasped, seeing his figure looming over them, wings outstretched and ready to move, hammer leaned down to a side.

Angus remained still, contemplative. He did not move while the child grabbed his mother’s shoulders, shaking her and pleading her to move.

“Mom, wake up!” The little demon had no clue his mother was dead and not unconscious, and for it, Angus pitied his determined pleas. “Move! It’s right here!”

The kid got no answer, and Angus did not want to torture him with the knowledge he had. Even if the angel intended on giving death to all demons he came across, he could not avoid feeling apprehensive of doing so. He did not attack the small demon yet, because he considered that even beasts deserved fairness. He waited while the demon stood up and faced him with a little growl.

“Stay back!” He opened his little claws and showed his fangs in a hateful yell. “Do not touch her!”

Angus took a step forward, still holding his hammer. The kid cried, angered and desperate.

“Stay away from my mom, you monster!”

Angus was taken aback. He did not expect the raging outburst the little demon had next. In a second, the kid lunged at him like a feral cat, and began to scratch at his chest, arms, and if he reached, face. He took multiple steps back, while the kid kept punching and clawing, relentlessly. The little devil was no match, but the anger and emotion was an honest surprise for the angel, who did not expect it from a demon this small. He had expected the critter to run, to claw weakly, and to be less vocal; he had never expected it to show worry for another life, other than for its own survival. This demon was not attacking out of instinct, but clearly out of grief; it was not something Angus would expect. While he tried to dodge those claws and lunges, he was contemplating pushing the kid off and scaring him into fleeing.

There was not enough time to ponder. The kid was so angry, that his claws sharpened like the ones of an adult. Angus’ eyes shot open when he saw one of those nails pierce slightly his chest plate, which was not an easy feat. In a chain reaction, he moved his hammer, remembering years of training. Before he could think of his move, the hammer had already made contact.

He leaned back his hammer sideways, while the kid hit the ground. He panted, eyes wide, watching as the blood flowed. His wings shook and twisted, his stance remained defensive; he kept staring at the kid, as if trying to process that he was not moving anymore.

After a painful minute, he managed to step back, move away his hammer and fold his wings. The kid was dead at his feet, and so was the mother he had tried to defend, from him. They had fled, and he had chased, cornering his smaller prey into a heartsick clash.

He said nothing, yet his mind was whispering many things. This was nothing like the glorious battles he had enacted. He looked around him; the flames were still consuming all that they could. What was before a camp full of life, was now a deserted burnt wasteland. There was no glory he could perceive; he had not faced the one he was bound with, but a group of families that he considered beasts. The men that had faced him were dead, only because they had the bravery of delaying his steps, to lend some time to others.

“…They are only beasts.”

He told himself so, but he still looked at the kid at his feet like he would at the corpse of one of his kind.

He shook his head and regained his stern expression, even if his eyes remained haunted. He moved and gave his back to the corpses. He walked hurriedly through the burnt camp, and when he didn’t bear looking at the carnage he left behind, he took flight. His wings took him up and forward, until he reached the opposite end of the site. He spotted Einar below. His comrade was fighting a demon that was also holding a sword. It was the last one standing, fighting more fiercely than others had.

When Angus landed besides Einar, said demon was stricken down by the silver winged angel, left to bleed and die on the ground. Einar turned sideways, and shot Angus a disapproving glance.

“What took you so long?”

Angus frowned, watching the light fade in the eyes of the demon at their feet.

“I was… following two who were fleeing.”

Einar scoffed, pushing aside a broken spear with his feet.

“Well, thanks to your delay, I had to deal with these soldiers on my own, and by doing so, a group managed to run away.” He pointed with a wing, towards the valley ahead. “They grabbed a cart, but if we hurry, we could catch up with them.”

Angus looked ahead, worriedly.

“How many? Are they armed? Do they have bows with which to shoot us if we chase from above?”

Einar smiled and glared ahead, leaning his longsword up.

“They have no weapons in that flimsy cart. There’s only one man, who has a pathetic dagger. The cart if full of hags and their disgusting critters, we can’t let them get loose.”

Angus felt a shiver run down his spine; he looked in the opposite direction, and then pointed while he laid a hand on Einar’s shoulder.

“They are not worth it, Einar. We can’t lose time chasing such an unimportant target. Come, I think I caught a glimpse of our demons sneaking away. We can-”

Einar slapped his hand off. Angus took a step back, pointed at with a longsword.

“Angus, those two can wait. We can’t let that group leave; it’s our duty to end every single demon we come across.”

Angus pushed that sword down with his own hammer. He spoke back, becoming agitated.

“Our duty is to end the demons with whom we are bound! If we come across other demons, we must end them, but that does not mean we have to chase after every single one of them! They pose no threat!”

“Oh… they do.” Einar opened his wings sharply, commanding. “You fail to see, that every single demon can give birth to ones like those two. By purging, we can prevent others from facing greater devils. Every single demon is a threat. Now, stop showing reluctance, and do as we must.”

Angus clenched his teeth, noting how Einar was not asking, but demanding. While he showed some disgust for the bloodshed, Einar only seemed satisfied by it.

“I will do what I must, Einar.”

Einar smiled when Angus opened his wings to fly. But soon, that contented smile twisted into a scowl full of surprise and anger. Angus flew, but not in the direction the cart had gone, but where those two had run off to. Einar ran a little after him, calling angrily.

“Angus!”

Angus did not look back at him, but did yell from above.

“If you refuse to end this hunt, I will!”

Einar growled, his eyes full of ire. He did not fly and chase after him; he turned back sharply, glaring with shadowed eyes at the distance.

“The hunt will never end. It may for us, but never for our cause.”

He opened his silver wings. In an instant, he chased in the dark sky, in the opposite direction his demon was, to shed more blood.

————————————

————————————-

The words of his uncle, he had no doubt they were true.

Alexis looked down mournfully, accepting the acts Angus had committed once. He did not condemn his kills, even though he found them appalling. It was clear he regretted it all.

“You were discouraged by what you did.” He sighed softly, frowning strongly. “I see he was as cold in those days.”

“He has always been.” Angus warned, looking grimly at his nephew’s eyes. “Those murders we committed, the unflinching joy he felt for them, it was only a hint of what he could do. We parted ways, I would soon end our quest… but I was not done with him. Soon, I would see how cruel he could be. Back in my own world, far away from devils, he took everything away from me. Fate would soon demand a great price for my acts… a price I still wish I did not have to pay.”

“Mother…” Alexis looked him in the eye, even though his uncle was evading it. “Don’t tell me he had anything to do with her death. I don’t want that to be the reason why you refused to speak of her all these years.”

“Rest easy, boy. Einar did not cause her demise. Not directly at least.” Angus snarled, clasping his own hand with a pained frown. “Your mother was… far too gentle and kind. There was only one person who saw what little heart Einar had: Aurora. Einar would only listen to one person other than himself, her. She begged us to not hold a grudge, to let go of the hate we would soon share for each other. She became the peacemaker, always trying to reach for the glory we were supposed to bring to both our families. She did not listen to me, even when I warned her of the true horror our duty represented. I bet that if she could speak from the grave, she would curse and mourn what he did.”

“Mourn what? If she was as passive as you imply after your return, maybe she would have not cared about Einar trying to turn me into a warrior or high priest.”

“Hm, you know nothing of what happened after we came back. I was glad to keep it that way while I took care of you, kid. You think those glares he sent you were bad enough, that nothing could be worse than being mistreated. You are wrong.” Angus crouched in front of Alexis, smiling darkly. “I owe you an explanation, don’t I?”

“…” Alexis looked him up and down, not liking the deadly serious stare he was receiving. “What did he ever do? Has he done something worse that I can’t remember?”

“Not only Einar has been cruel, Alexis. Not only had he showed disdain for your existence.” Alexis paled when Angus whispered, calmly. “Maybe it’s time I tell you… how we almost let you die with your mother.”