Blackness; pure unending darkness. What had been a clear intangible energy became an abyss that had no end. Sense and feel became numbness, and thoughts grew into lethargy. What existed trespassed into nothingness, all was gone.

But it was not a true disappearance. There was nothing left in that world, but life remained in another one.

The darkness left her vision, and it turned into a misty fog. Heavy clouds engulfed the skies, a silent storm reigned.

Her wings and eyes were the first things she moved. Slowly, she leaned onto her arms, while looking up from the ground. She lay frozen there, insignificant. Her eyes looked in awe at what surrounded her. Immense trees, far taller than any she had ever seen. The forest seemed to be far up in the sky, not near her. The vegetation formed an amalgamation of green and brown up above, creating a labyrinth of branches and life. It resembled the mantle of trees over that blue lake, the one her father loved, but much more immense and distant. It was raining heavily, but only a few drops fell through. It was like it was not raining at all, there was only a faint sound from those drops. A clear mist tangled in between roots and grass, allowing a tranquil yet grim atmosphere.

“W-where…”

She could see light, far ahead. It was faint, but her eyes could see it in the dark. It was the end of the tall forest, which led to a plain, foreign.

Her wake brought more than discomfort. Aurora sat up at last, but not for the strangeness of the world around her. Her eyes opened with urgency; she looked all around her, but not because she feared the dark. She panted, laying eyes on another body, another who had crossed with her.

“Ariel!”

Those blue eyes opened with her call. Much like her, she moved slowly and sleepily. The first thing she did was look up from the ground, only to see the depths Aurora had already seen.

“…” Ariel stared at Aurora with a grimace. Her sister had been quick to reach her side, so she heard her faint whisper clearly. “What is this?”

Aurora shared the same look. Both remembered passing through the portal and fainting without knowing so.

“I have never seen a forest like this. It’s huge. Are we…?”

Ariel looked around them again, propping them both to their feet. She glared, trying to pinpoint if they were truly alone. The trees were not the only towering thing in here. At their feet, huge bushes casted shadows that doubled their height; some would even loom over Uriel. She could not trace any sign of him and Ayako. And that made her hold onto Aurora more tightly.

“They are not here.” Aurora tensed. Ariel tried to calm another fear they shared. “I can’t see any angels either.”

She had to wonder if they had truly crossed to his world. Alexis had never spoken of forests like this one. That only left two conclusions: one, they were not in his home. Two… he had never wandered here, for a reason which angels feared.

Slowly, Ariel pulled at Aurora’s hand. She compelled her to move, to follow her towards the end of the forest. With dreadful curiosity, they neared open ground. They preferred to follow the light than to go deeper into the shadows. They moved away from the towering trees, from the dark deep forest. They stopped completely once they could see the sky and horizon outside it. Wordlessly, they stared at the view. The wind flowed freely here, strongly. Their long hair flowed back while they stood in awe, not caring for the rain on them. Their expressions were ones of sad admiration, of dreadful wonder.

They held no doubt, they had crossed. They finally saw something they had heard of, but never dwelled on.

Aurora let go of Ariel’s hand. Her wings shivered while looking at the towering amalgamation of strongholds and monoliths. Past the unending autumn colored plains, stood the citadel, white and golden, gloriously bright. The height of the watchtowers was grander than anything humanity had built through the ages. The temples crowned every row of streets and plazas, in a symmetric design. If it had not been raining, she would have seen wings soaring in the distance, far, far away. The home of angels rested in the middle of the plains, perfectly settled in the center of the land.

It was a small world in comparison, but full of things far too complex for them to take in fully. They were not far from the end of the land. Warily, both neared what rested near the forest, at one of the edges of the plain. They stopped once more, to stare at the water. It was deep, of a darker tone than any in their home. That black hue had nothing to do with the rain.

While Ariel kept a few steps of distance, Aurora let herself kneel at its sandy shore. Carefully, she reached into it, noting how it had no visible bottom. She examined the water on her claw, curiously.

They had no rest while following the trail of her necklace. Her thirst was undeniable. However, before she could drink, Ariel warned.

“Don’t.” Her sister shook her head with a frown, still admiring the strangeness of the liquid. “It’s not a lake. It’s an ocean.”

Aurora let the droplets fall down between her nails, with wonder in her eyes. Ariel was right, and it was strange that she was. This so called ocean could not be any bigger than the largest lake in their world. It had a few miles of length at most, and only thanks to it being parallel to the long plains. It had a visible end. On the horizon, its small flow halted. There was a blockage there, an edge of stone. It was something that made them even warier of this land.

Aurora whispered, noting the huge drop in the distance, the blackness that seemed to tangle past it. The water poured very slowly into it over the fragile-looking edge, yet the ocean would never shrink.

“So that’s the abyss.”

It was smaller than they had imagined. I looked like a crack, a long canyon. If they were to walk through this land, they would find themselves near the drop once more, at its opposite edge. This spherical world had two hemispheres like theirs: on one rested the citadel, and on the opposite side laid the abyss. That blackness was surrounded by ground and the ocean, each at one edge. It would take angels a while to reach the abyss, but nothing compared with the distance between continents in the human world.

“It’s so small. So…”

Ariel stopped commenting. Aurora did not look back to her in confusion. Both saw it. Something glinted in the water, so far below. That something did not only glint, but move. Both stayed there, hypnotized. The ocean was smaller than the ones humanity saw, but still greater than their young bodies. What had been a small glint became a bright gigantic shadow. They tensed when two big red glimmers emerged slowly from the dark blue. Glinting with their own light, they reflected on the huge outlines that appeared. A long scaled figure, which floated up lethargically to meet their frozen gazes. Those two red irises met their blue ones, subtly inching closer. They could only discern a few things from that figure, but it was enough. Hints of long slim fins, which came out of the shape of a slender whale. The head of a snake, much more elegant and delicate. A tail, which flowed like the one of an eel, pointed like the one of a shark. Ten times their size, hidden in the dark.

It was a being they had believed to be a simple tale. Yet it was all too real.

And dangerous.

Had they stayed frozen there for long, the shadow would have shown itself. It would have moved and reached for them near the shore. However, the shadow retreated silently and calmly, because a bolt soared and sunk into the water above it.

The girls gasped, startled by the shot that scared away the big strange creature. When they looked back, they saw Ayako, holding her crossbow and pointing at the shore warily.

“Do not touch the water.”

She was not alone. Aurora had no time to stand on her own. Before she could say anything, a claw moved her away, gently but strongly. Uriel’s eyes glinted in the dark of the rain, hinted past his soaked hair. His expression was as weary as Ayako’s, as serious.

While they took them away from the water, Ariel commented again, disbelieving.

“The tales he told us, about the huge creatures that roamed in an ocean…”

“All true.” Uriel warned, never lowering his guard near the shore. “He is not a good liar, so be careful of everything he has told you about this world.”

Pretty, but deadly. Angels reigned in here, without dispute. They had ended every single creature capable of being predatory. Now, ages after a great purge, no animals roamed in the forest behind them. However, angels had not been able to reign over one thing. Their wings kept them away from ending the last remnant of the creation of this world. That ocean still kept gigantic creatures, which stayed hidden from angels, unreachable. Neither apex dared or tried to seek the other. That thing there was not alone, and it was not the biggest one. Considering these facts, it was surprising that Alexis had ever wished to swim.

The water was not safe, but there were worse things to worry about. They could not lower their guards.

While Uriel moved the girls closer to him, Ayako eyed the distance with longing. She could see the citadel and its menacing towers. She was grateful they had the luck of appearing near the ocean and forest, where no angel roamed. When she and Uriel woke up, they did so alone. Uriel found her easily, never one to forget her scent. They sought the girls without delay, knowing they were walking on thin ice here.

With the girls in sight, they feared less. But only a little less. There was something that needed to be addressed, as soon as possible. Ayako asked Uriel, dreadfully.

“Do you feel it?”

Uriel turned to face her, the trident in his claw held tightly. He was sullen, grim under the rain. His eyes were thoughtful as he placed a hand on his chest. His words were careful, slow and tired.

“He’s alive.”

The spell was back. With it came great pain, exhaustion. And yet, it made his heart beat with pure relief. He was still bound, in the same plane of existence of his angel.

He could feel him.

All turned to look at the citadel once more, less bright and white under the rain. They were unsure of this; Uriel and Ayako more than the girls. None felt safe. Not one single word of support could make them less anxious, not while they faced the huge imposing fortresses and towers. But they could not look away either. They had felt compelled to cross through that chilling portal. No words would have kept the girls away from it. There was no way of keeping distance this time, not with the agonizing fear in their hearts. Only Lykaios stayed back, reluctantly, to accomplish something they needed in their plan.

They were scheming, for his safety.

——————-

 

They had never heard the creatures screech like that. And they would never hear them do so again. All were dead.

He gave the carcass a disbelieving shove with his foot. The demon rolled on itself, without flinching an inch. Those empty voids had no life in them, vacant and rotting. All around him, be it on the ground or hanging, the demons laid dead. All those scythes had dashed inwards. One after the other, the creatures had ended themselves.

For the first time, he could set foot into the forest without having to battle. For the first time, he and his people could roam and reach for the trees they wished to win for themselves. For ages they had fought against these things, only to see them take their own lives.

“I don’t understand.” He did not pay mind to her steps behind him. He sunk his axe on the ground strongly, and then yelled to the corpse at his feet, angered. “Why did you do that, you cowardly beasts?!”

Cecilia looked all around her as well, hiding behind him even though all the townspeople were near. All could see the corpses; all were confused by the actions of the demons. None were happy to have lost the chance to win the forest by their own merits. They should be happy, yet they felt discouraged.

“I thought they were about to rip the village apart. I have never seen them act like this.”

The things had moved wildly. Some had trashed and convulsed out of the shadows for them to see, before killing themselves brutally. They had been ready to fight them, only to be disappointed.

Everard’s anger was all too evident. He was crestfallen, and it showed a little through his loud tone.

“My whole family has fought these things! My grandfather and his father! Even my grand, grand, grandmother! I have carried her axe all this time! And for what?!” He pointed ahead with a finger, veins showing on his face. “I wanted to tell my grandchildren how we won over these trees! I wanted to show them one of these things cowering in a cage, like an animal! Now they’re all dead!”

“At least… we can cut the forest now?”

“Hmpff!” He held the axe a little more tightly, glaring north. “I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all, Cecilia! This smells fishy! And we haven’t got fish around here in ages!”

“This is unusual. You’re right.” She had to give him credit, it was really strange. She pushed past him and pondered, gaze lost in the labyrinth that hid the fortress ahead. “What is going on in that abandoned temple?”

Everard was not a man who stayed still. He had cared about the trees, but now he cared about his pride.

“It is time we figure out, I say.” He glared back towards the town, to the men and women who paced between corpses. “Whoever is as angry and confused as me, grab a tool and follow me! I am going to get to the bottom of this, no matter how long it takes me!”

He puffed his chest out with satisfaction, because everyone held up their weapons and tools. He was confident he had given fire to his people, that he had inspired them. He was confused when Cecilia began to whisper, tugging at his arm.

“Everard-”

“What? Can’t you see I’m riling up-”

“They are not looking at you.”

Everard blinked. He realized that the townspeople were not staring at him with passion, but glaring past him with wariness and anger. He looked ahead, at the forest.

He gasped silently, because a shadow stood in the distance. Clear for them to see, it was watching. Two red eyes, black fur like night sky, broad shoulders with huge clawed limbs. Majestic yet demonic, a beast that only he had seen.

Everyone stared, the beast watched, like if it was waiting for a reaction.

A reaction it got.

Everard overcame his confusion. He almost broke the handle of his axe when he pointed at the demon, all ever furious.

“There’s a demon left! And it’s got something to do with this!”

Cecilia jolted and recoiled, because Everard hauled his axe into the distance. The beast did not even flinch when the axe sunk into the tree at its side. Like if it wanted attention, it turned elegantly and began to run slowly into the dark.

Before Cecilia could say anything, Everard lunged to chase. And everyone else did with him, needing to direct their anger at something. Anything.

“W-wait! You can’t just-!”

“Kill the demon!”

“It’s going to that temple!”

“Get Everard three more axes to haul!”

She was left alone. She stood there, watching as the ferocious town chased a shadow, running without reason for one last fight they felt owed.

“…” She bit her lip. She paced a little. She rubbed her long sleeves and then decided she couldn’t stay still. “Wait for me!”

That temple was far too compelling for her to stay in the town. There were many notes she could take while they wrecked the landscape.

The humans ventured. It made the beast smile while it led them north, little by little, casting his shadow near them.

——————-

 

Angels were not violent. Not until convinced they needed to be.

So he obeyed.

He could count four guards, of the most standing rank. Elegantly yet strongly, they had imposed their presence in the cell. They stared him down without word, past those golden helmets, warning without word. Those wings were sharp, hinting their readiness.

They only moved again when they saw he would not struggle. He was just sitting there, looking warily at their weapons, with an expression of resignation. He did not want to play any games, not now. He was not about to let out his sarcasm either.

The guards refused to ponder the fact that he looked miserable and similar to them. Like a true prisoner, he was freed from those shackles without comment or empathy. Two grabbed his arms and hauled him up to his feet; a third was ready with other boundaries. He let out a sighed growl when other shackles surrounded his wrists. They gave him more room to move, and they did not make him hang against the wall, but they were oppressive nonetheless. He had not expected anything less, but it was disappointing all the same.

After moving him up, the guards refused to touch him anymore. Like if wary of possible demonic incantations, they used other means to handle him around. The shackles had chains. Two in fact, one for each guard to hold at his sides.

He felt like a dog. But he knew to walk himself. He was not yanked or pulled once.

The guard he had grown accustomed to unlocked the door for them. This visit was unannounced, yet he had known it would come.

It was time.

While led through the jail, he dared to cast curious glances.

The guards were much taller than him, and would not meet his eyes while he raised an eyebrow at them. It was like they were the ones to be sentenced, because like a broken prisoner, they lacked any emotion in them. Silent, as obedient as him, if not more.

The fires of the torches around him were grimly lit with magical fire; they cast reflections on his contemplative expression. He pondered, wondering if this was his last day or not.

He wondered where Philander was. It would take him a little while to figure it out. Before that, he had to feel insulted.

“For fucks sake.”

They had taken him to a chamber in which there was a small pool made of stone, without windows, locked and guarded, of course. He was glad he was free to curse in this room.

“Very funny…” He tugged angrily at the black and golden tunic that had been by the bath. It had multiple folds that hanged on the sides and back, which covered the ornaments on the pants. They were very detailed and fancy robes. It would be like the ones of a priest or scholar… if not for one thing. “Put black on the demon, of course. May I interpret the decorations and golden strings as a metaphor too?”

Angel or demon, the clothes hinted their doubt. No one wore black here, only when mourning.

He huffed and controlled himself. It took him a lot to not punch the vase that hung near the door. As much as he hated these clothes, for their fanciness and mockery, he could not put on his clothes back. They were torn, scorched and dusty. He had to keep going dressed like this. This was not a show of goodwill from them, but a move to make themselves look better. This hid the bruises he had. He was sure the trial would be crowded, with many eyes.

He took a deep breath and commented to himself, now that he could.

“Come on, Alexis. It looks a little bit like the cape… you like black. You have other things to worry about.”

Much more worrisome things.

He faced the door again, while looking away from the steamy water. He had to admit that it did him well after those hits. While sitting on the stone, submerged with his eyes closed, he had collected his thoughts.

He was not ready, but he had to be.

He knocked strongly on the door, like he was instructed by the guards. The door opened after a minute. He was not surprised to see them standing in a defensive position, pointing their weapons at the doorway.

Behind his long black string of hair, he let himself roll his eyes. He moved up his wrists again, to show they could go on and put those shackles again. As much as them, he wanted to get things over with.

If the guards felt confused by his attitude, they did not show it. Angels held the belief that demons held horrible emotions. Yet he showed ones that did not match with said claim.

At last, he left that well-kept but grim dungeon. His eyes glinted, not with the light of torches, but with the sun. Past tall stairs, out of the underground, some arcs let a faint light cast over his shadow. His face contorted with a longing expression, his eyes caught hints of the outside. He could barely make out the outlines of the streets and cloudy sky, but it was enough to make him grimace with sadness. His hands clasped together while walking past those small openings; he kept looking back to them, until the last moment. He was led towards deeper chambers of the palace.

Again, the light from the outside was replaced with one much colder and artificial. The sacred palace had always been lighted by transparent oval-shaped glasses, which held magical fire inside. Hanging from every wall, they looked like wisps, tangling everything in gold and white.

Angelic magic had always had an affinity with fire, but it had always seemed so cold to him. Nothing like the warmth Uriel and Ariel could summon.

The chambers were grand, huge, and void. Everywhere, all around, runes and banners decorated everything. There were many murals of their history, carved on the very stone of the walls; depictions of ancient angels.

He was taken through discreet and unimportant paths, big but insignificant compared to the main rooms. Everywhere they walked, no matter how hushed their presence was kept, many guards watched. He gulped and walked silently, because with every passing minute, another guard would march near him. He could feel the hate, the disdain. The more angels surrounded him, the less human or angelic he would look to them. His lack of wings was something that seemed to bother them greatly. All glared at him, all wished nothing more than to stab him with their swords right there and then.

If they did not follow orders, he was sure they would. Alas, angels were creatures of protocol and custom.

The door was huge; the corridor where it stood was long and immense. He felt small, even if he was a decently tall man. At every step, at each side, stood a huge statue. They were huge representations of past living judges, who glanced downwards, towering and glaring at whoever walked past towards the door. Each carried a different weapon, all used in the past to end demons.

Two more guards guarded the door. When it opened, he had to move a hand to cover his eyes, because the light that came out blinded him.

He exhaled tiredly when he managed to see what waited inside that room.

Right in front of him, a small stony white stand. Past it, a long unending open ground, of marble. In it, at a distance at each side, two more stands, but more grand than the first, more decorated and spacious. Two figures stood there, each making him shiver on their own merit. At the sides of the room, above two tall stony walls, rows and rows of stony seats, meant for an audience of at least fifty judging eyes. And at the end of the chamber, were the tallest seats he had ever seen, with multiple crowning statues, bathed in the light of towering glassy windows. The judges and high priest sat there, the first to set eyes on his small figure, which stood on the lowest ground of the chamber.

He had never been here for his mischiefs years ago, and he was glad for it. As far as he knew, this room had not been of use in ages.

He was immobile, frozen. Whatever braveness he had built up on his way here was gone in an instant. He had no wings to show it, but his body language was enough to hint his faintness.

Wings. It was something he lacked for years. He had thought he would not see them again. Yet here he was, seeing many of them. Feathers shined everywhere around him. Everyone had them, everyone held them near proudly. And he couldn’t, he could not broaden his own to greet these many eyes. He felt like a stranger between his own people, looked down and inspected warily. He had no way to grasp some kind of confidence from within himself. Right now, he was a pitiful remnant of what he once was.

In between the rows and rows of staring eyes, only two of them showed any empathy. Angus grimaced when his nephew was pushed towards the small stand. His fists clenched when those chains were attached to it, to prevent any dangerous moves or escapes. He took a deep breath when Alexis did, because both were aware of the smiles that the two figures at the bigger stands showed. Alexis exhaled and stood as upright as he could, refusing to show his fear. He still shivered while they moved, having expected this moment.

Philander and Einar walked down from their stands; one was holding his hands between his robes calmly, while the other stood with the proudest of stances. Both angels exchanged an analytical glance, before casting their gazes onto the accused. Their smiles were different, but menacing all the same. Both hinted death, more or less furiously.

“At last, we can finally sentence this devil to the flames of hell.”

Alexis flinched under Einar’s direct verbal lashing, which made the chains wiggle and make noise.

Strangely, Philander retorted, pacing elegantly and composedly in the spacious courtroom.

“I believe we should come to a conclusion first, if he is a devil or not.”

“He is.” Einar turned sharply to look up to the seats over him, in order to plead to the judges and high priests. “Your highness, you can see clearly the lack of wings. There is no need for debate, it is as clear as our deity’s will! Sentence him!”

Alexis braced himself, because the room grew quiet. The high priest leaned on his seat and looked down at him, and then Einar. The last time he had seen this old man, all had been smiles. They were gone now, replaced by a contemplative expression. He only breathed when he heard the next words, spoken slowly and thoughtfully.

“I see no wings, indeed. But I can’t see claws, fangs or tails, nothing to condemn yet.”

Einar stepped closer to the feet of the seats, pleading for a quick conclusion to the trial.

“His actions should speak for themselves then!”

“Indeed.” The high priest exchanged a look with the judges, to then affirm. “We have not spoken of such actions yet. So let them be voiced. Philander, if you please, let us know the grounds of the trial.”

Einar took a second to surrender. When he did, it was with a silent sigh. He moved back to his stand, not without glaring at Philander, who bowed a little with a smile. The angel of red wings looked around the room for a moment before speaking out, loud enough for his voice to echo.

“As allowed by the high priest, the defence shall now begin the description of the crime committed, by a being who has dared to go against every vow. This angel, known by the name of Alexis Goode, has been brought to-”

“Wait a second…!”

There had been a slam, which came from the small stand. All blinked and looked back to it, only to see the accused glaring, hands still down on the stone. Alexis had interrupted the words, in a manner that he could not avoid. The disbelief was quite obvious in his frown and tone.

“What do you mean with defence?!”

Philander stared at him for a moment with a lean of head. Only he seemed to understand Alexis’ confusion, and he seemed to be the only one to care enough to explain to him. The guards were about to unsheathe their weapons.

“Every prisoner must have an advocate, even the vilest and horrible. Even you.”

Alexis did not care for the guards right now. He dared to retort, question.

“You know well what I mean, Philander! You can’t be my advocate! If you are, this is not a fair trial!” He pointed at Einar, scowling. “You want me dead, as much as him!”

Philander seemed taken aback for a second, but then he smiled a little. Alexis lowered his hands and leaned back, because the angel of red wings clarified, in a tone that hinted patience and amusement.

“Oh, make no mistake, Alexis. I do wish for your death.” He walked a little bit closer, and Alexis saw nothing but deadly curiousness in those eyes. The room seemed to grow darker, even if bathed in light. Even if that voice was gentler than Einar’s, it managed to make him grow silent. “I am defending not your life, but your integrity, your soul. We are not discussing if you will live, but for what you will be put down. I am gifting you the chance to die as a lost corrupted angel, instead of a vile godless devil. I believe that is fair enough.”

The guards did not need to silence him. Philander moved away, batting his wings behind him nonchalantly. Alexis lowered his gaze slowly; his eyes were empty of emotion while the words flowed again around him. A judge commanded, with directness.

“If there are no more improper interruptions from the accused, we shall proceed to hear the facts that have brought us to this trial.”

“Of course, highness.” The words echoed, twisted and accusing… yet Alexis was not listening much to them. He had heard it all already. “For decades I have roamed that sinful world. For centuries I have chased a being clad in darkness and evil. A monster only spoken of in the most guarded books in the citadel. A being whose name reminds of the first primal sins of the world. Zelophehad was the demon who brought us misery and terror, a demon I fought for so long that I was forgotten in my own home.”

He could hear how the crowd was growing interested in Philander’s tale, infatuated with his compelling and passionate telling. He had heard it before; he had fallen for it himself. So true yet manipulative.

He knew it would take a long while for it to end. So he just closed his eyes, and waited. He knew that if he dared to speak up again, the weapons that had moved before would get closer to him.

There was only another one who did not share the same interest in the words as the other angels. One who only had eyes for the sullen figure surrounded by hatred. That caring presence was hidden from view, silent and impotent. He could do nothing but watch while his nephew was judged.

They could only stay quiet.