The clouds tangled with each other, like white fog. A huge black void flowed below it, in the depths of the big abyss. The fog was falling down the edge, like a misty waterfall. One hundred armored figures stood by the edge, with a frozen and focused stance.

No angel was daring to leave its spot. A whole army of soldiers was guarding the abyss. All their swords were ready, at hand.

Another day…

It had not been like this before. The most guarded place had always been the palace, but not anymore. Now, the guard had to patrol the edge of the abyss, every day.

A new recruit was standing nervously in between two taller and older angels. He had just been sent there that morning, and he did not like the reports as to why he had to make duty there. He did not like either how the soldier at his right had a huge dent on his helmet, or that the one at his left only had a dagger, and not the mandatory sword.

Even then, he kept himself firm between the rest of soldiers. He jolted a little when another guard gave him a scolding glance, for having been looking sideways instead of ahead.

He could arrive at any moment…

No angel had ever opposed the law. Never. Not until the day one young angel had been honored to be sent down; a blacksmith, one who did not belong in the guard.

The young soldier tensed up, because the guards near him reached for their weapons suddenly. He was not as experienced as them, but he soon heard heavy thuds ahead as well. Some pained gasps echoed in the distance, between the dense foggy clouds. The sounds of metal colliding echoed through. All rumbled, but they couldn’t see yet what caused it.

The hits ended. Silence fell.

There was another patrol ahead of them, a first line of defense. Again, it had not been enough.

“He is here.”

All angels took out their swords, once they heard the general announce what they most dreaded.

Most of them had seen already what they were against. But not all. Every day, half of them had to be replaced by others. They could not keep fighting, they were beaten, defeated. They needed reinforcements, every day.

All stood weary and glared ahead, expecting to be attacked at any moment. They all dreaded the furious angel that tried to reach the abyss daily. He never surrendered in trying. He always managed to escape from the cell where they locked him in, for daring to try. He always defeated half of them, causing that they had to be replaced by others who guarded the temples or palace. His fury, strength and fast moves did not match his appearance. His terrifying shouts and curses rumbled out of his messy, braided, and big beard. It did not help that he was the best blacksmith in the citadel, and that he somehow always managed to steal back his trusty hammer, no matter how well they hid it. Sometimes, he appeared drunk; and that fact did not change anything, he was still a beast to deal with.

A guard stepped forward, trying to see better between the mists, which defined well the abyss. He narrowed his eyes and raised his sword. His sword was ready, but not him. He was not ready when he saw something flash by; a fist was the last thing he saw before blacking out.

All the guards yelped when Angus leaped at them with a loud roar. His lower height helped him hide in the mist, before jumping on them. His two big messy wings were stronger than they looked to be.

Angus laughed loudly and angrily. He hauled his hammer at the first idiot that tried to disarm him with one of those pretty and useless swords.

The new recruit stood mouth agape while all the guards bolted fast to fight the rebellious angel. Angus only made them fall down to the ground, one after another. He cursed like a sailor, with words that would make any priest cover their ears.

It was a chaotic mess of punches, dashes, swings, puffed wings… and fallen angels, who landed repeatedly on the ground. Angus beat his record; he counted quickly the soldiers at his feet, without stopping hammering. He had taken out fifty, and one.

To reach this place, he only had needed to do a couple of things: break the lock in the cell, knock out the guard in the dungeon, then break the window in his cell and escape through there because he could, go to the tavern and spend the guard’s money on beer, get drunk, retrieve his hammer, and then try to reach the abyss and jump. Only god knew how many times he had done so already.

He was worried sick. He was now only breaking bones and beating up these idiots. But he swore bloody hell that if he glanced down and saw his nephew dead…

Only two figures were left standing. Angus stood on top of the pile of beaten angels, huffing while the whimpers echoed. He swirled his hammer happily, and then glared down at the baffled youngster that was left.

“One hundredth idiots against one drunkard! You want to try, kiddo? Or we leave it at ninety-nine?”

He snorted when a sword was dropped to the ground. The last soldier ran away fast, towards the palace, to report that no more guards stood.

Angus jumped down the messy pile of limbs, uncaring of the pained groans that followed. He could not care, not when these idiots had kept him away from Alexis for so many days. He had tried to beat them all for so long… He always had failed; he only managed to beat half of them. Every day, there were more where others had stood. They always waited for him, and sent him back into that damn cell.

But today…

He halted his steps at the edge of the abyss. There was no one that could stop him this time.

Angus rarely felt fear. He only feared for one thing. And now, he feared more than ever. More than when he had to teach him to fly. He still remembered how fearful Alexis had been, while he stood at the edge of that huge tower. That tower near the palace, where they all leaped from at a very young age. There was a net below, of course… But it still hurt to see him step away; it was not easy to force some sense into him, so he would learn to fly. If he had not jumped, he would have never learnt. He could only imagine how Alexis felt when he was pushed from this edge.

He finally dared to glance down; he had lost his determination and adrenaline after the fight. His eyes looked down wearily at the huge black void. It was pitch black, unending, strange and intimidating, even for him. His heart could break, from the mere thought that he was pushed from here. But it did crack with the knowledge of as to why.

Angus feared to see what had happened in that world. But he wanted to do it, because he could be still alive. He could not know if he did not look. The bastards wouldn’t tell him if he was dead or not, and he was not back yet. He hoped this void would show him what he wanted. It sometimes did, rarely. So he glanced down, ready to jump if he saw that he was still breathing. He could be at the hands of that demon, only god knew how.

His eyes narrowed, because the void seemed to twist; like how it did for Alexis, in the many times he glanced down in wonder. It showed small visions, of what roamed in the other world.

He wished to see. He hoped he would.

His eyes widened when he saw the faint light of a fire. It flickered near a waterfall. He trembled, because he saw three figures around it. A human, a demon… and a blond, who was lying on the ground, with his eyes closed.

Alexis…

Angus gasped in horror, because he was not seeing Alexis move. There was a tall and strong looking demon at his side. He froze in fear, believing the worst.

The demon and human seemed to speak between each other; they exchanged words he could not hear. The devil grabbed three wooden bowls, and filled them with the liquid that was inside the cauldron on the fire. And after he laid them on the ground at reach…

Angus snarled and raised his hammer, because a claw neared his nephew.

He was going to jump, he would have leapt. But he did not. The demon only nudged Alexis’ shoulder, gently. Angus wheezed and halted, because he saw those golden wings twitch sleepily. He was alive.

Alexis cracked one eye open, with a grumpy look on his face. But there was no fear while he glanced up at the demon and human, who had woken him up.

Angus stared at them, confused to no end. He saw how the devil handed Alexis one of the bowls, with a smile. Alexis took it gratefully, with a faint and lazy whisper. Angus knew well how to read lips; his nephew was thanking his demon.

He stood there, shaken and baffled. His eyes were full of doubt and disbelief. He could only stare while Alexis laughed, because it seemed that the human had made the demon grow nervous with a snarky comment.

How can it be?

He did not know. But…

The guards were groaning, while trying to untangle themselves from the huge pile they had fallen in. They were too groggy to free themselves or stand in order.

They all froze, all shut up, because they saw Angus walk back, away from the edge. They believed he would give them more hits of hammer, until the blacksmith threw said hammer to the ground and began to walk away.

He left. He did not jump. He did not do anything. All laid mouth agape, disbelieving. There was silence for a moment.

Only for a moment.

“…You have to be joking!”

All the fights, all those troublesome days… And now he walked away.