No knowledge would have prepared them. No matter how many books two of them had read about the subject, they could never have expected this fierceness. A sandstorm was unlike any storm they had ever felt. Even though they had donned more adequate robes as they marched through the deserts, they did very little to soften the hit of the sand upon their bodies.

Still, even if the flow sometimes felt like cuts and they could barely see, they would prevail. They had endured worse things. Their waterskins still had water, and they had acquired enough provisions in the towns and camps they encountered.

The issue resided in the sandstorm, which had hit in the worst possible moment. If their maps were correct, they were right now in the core of the desert, the most extended area of it. Southwest and northeast, they were the farthest away they could be from any settlement.

There was no refuge they could expect. It was no wonder why this continent was considered less forgiving and harsh, and why humans did not govern undisputed. Even though they were free and mostly safe, their morale was not high. Their hopes had turned into resignation.

Supposedly, if they kept heading southwest, they would find a city. It stood at the end of a huge gulf, which cut down into the northern side of the continent. But they still had a long way to go; they would not find its huge fortifications and heavier population until they left this accursed wasteland.

Alexis was the one who had most trouble striding against each gust of wind. And yet, he kept refusing to rest onto Lykaios’ back. Deep inside, he was slightly envious of their demonic strength. Though, he was glad they had it.

Uriel’s eyes were the sharpest, piercing through the sand as it hit them. Behind him, Ariel kept summoning flames up, which warmed the freezing air of the night. Aurora was always most capable in the cold, her wings were open, shielding them as much as possible.

The huge feline eyed the blond carefully, noting how he kept walking stubbornly, against all common sense. All angels valued greatly their pride, him included, even if slightly differently.

“I could carry you, and you know it.”

Those amber eyes glared at the small cart the demon dragged behind him, which not only carried a few boxes, but an old armour as well. Lykaios had insisted to not sell it, and they were thankful for it. It was something Alexis hinted in his next growl.

“I’m fine, dammit.”

That frustrated retort warranted that his mouth caught a few gusts of sand, which he spat out as angrily. Lykaios sighed, shaking his long mane in disapproval. His next words were nostalgic, fond, unheard by the other three ahead.

“Long ago, I would have been able to force you to give up this foolish display, thanks to your meekness and alarm upon everything. One simple growl and flash of my maws and you would have trembled like a leaf.” Those words made the angel snarl, meeting those red eyes with defiance. Something that only made the demon comment more poignantly. “Your fears do not make you falter anymore, but bring you to act dangerously and rashly. I do not know if she would like the changes you’ve suffered.”

Alexis hated this conversation, very much. He had tried to avoid speaking of the grim things he had been able to do, and he loathed to hear her being brought up.

“Lykaios, you better keep those maws shut. I indeed won’t waver if you bare them, because I will punch them instead.”

“Now see, I hate my own changes too. Back then, I would have not had second thoughts in slamming your face onto this sandy ground, making sure to drag you against it for good measure. Sadly, I’ve come to share too much time with you.”

“A horrible thing, isn’t it?” Both were talking in slight jest, but their grief was there. “I also miss my younger foolish self, but we are both stuck with this. So buckle up, because my luck can only get worse, which will only bring even more changes that-“

Lykaios jolted, because Alexis did drop face-first onto the sand. It wasn’t him who sent him down, but his own blind steps. Before he could turn to help him up, he had already pushed himself a little with his arms, spitting more sand angrily. His amber eyes began to pierce the dune that surrounded him, trying to find the rock he had tripped with.

It was not easy to spot it with the sandy gusts of wind that blurred his vision, but he soon noticed it near his right foot. Lykaios let out a sigh as the blond stood sharply and kicked it, only to groan when he found it was not a rock, but a thick heavy brick.

“Damn stupid piece of…!”

His pained curse did make the other three devils blink and halt. When they turned, they saw him holding the foot with which he had tried to kick the stone he had stumbled against. While Uriel began to walk back towards him, Alexis crouched to grab it angrily, wishing to pick it up and throw it far off in one last attempt to vent.

However, as he lifted it in his hands, he had a closer look at the ochre stone. It was very old, and even if distorted and eroded, there was no mistaking its form and engravings. The anger in his eyes faded, replaced by surprise and curiosity. What he was holding had faint runes on it. An angelic stone, a brick, part of something else. He ignored Uriel’s caring call and turned, trying hard to look at his surroundings. His eyes glinted, something in his gut telling him to pay close attention.

Indeed, there were hints of ruins in the shifting dunes. As if to acknowledge his attention, a gust of wind revealed more stones not far away. There were concealed eroded edifices, part of what could only have been an angelic construction.

“Alexis?”

The angel finally answered his demon, eyes narrowed to try to meet his gaze in the sandstorm.

“Follow me; I think there are some ruins nearby.”

With that, Alexis diverted their march, moving slightly south. Aurora and Ariel exchanged looks, to then eye the stone at their feet. Even if there were ruins, the decayed look of the brick did not offer much hope. They did not know how he could think that there could be remnants preserved enough to offer shelter.

To be honest, he was not so sure himself. And yet, he advanced instinctively, each step over the dunes taking him closer. His amber eyes sharpened, each minute seeing more stones at his feet, revealed clearly by the flow of the wind.

It took him a while, but soon he found himself at the feet of a huge dune. The sandstorm was eroding it, shifting it, and revealing the ruins the desert had consumed ages ago. He had sought them blindly, and now that he stood at the mouth of it, he could not avoid but hesitate.

The entrance looked like the one of a crypt, because it went deeper into the earth. It was much like that old shrine he ventured into once, but much more decrepit and huge. Instead of grey and white, it was of the same colour as the sand. He could not possibly read the faded runes on the walls, and the inside was far too dark for him to see if it was safe.

Something deep inside him told him to turn and forget about it. But he could not do that, he knew. He was not alone. The others were eyeing the crypt with the same reluctance, but all could feel the fierce push of the storm on their bodies, which would make them crumble eventually.

Uriel sent Alexis an assuring smile, resting a claw on his shoulder before taking the lead. Ariel eyed carefully the entrance, noting how the sand had receded a lot, and it did not seem like it would bury the ruins again. It was safe for them to spend a night inside; they would not be trapped in it in such little time.

Alexis took a deep breath, pushing the memory of that old shrine away, what was surely making him anxious. He was glad to have stumbled upon these ruins, as they would shelter them. With one last glance at the desert, he followed Uriel, both venturing past the stony arc. His demon had already raised a claw in flames, providing the light they needed.

Their eyes scouted the chamber, noting how it was slightly sunk, and full of debris. It was a small entryway, with circular stony stairs ahead. The gusts of wind crept into this room, clawing past the archway. Uriel took a deep breath, being extremely careful. Alexis did not miss his initial frown and glare at the stairs. However, they soon relaxed, the next words comforting and reassuring.

“No demon roams below. We will surely find more shelter there.”

There was a faint whisper, for their daughters had walked in as well.

“This is…”

Ariel had not been the only one to learn angelic runes. Aurora was examining the walls, which were not easy to read, degraded and ancient. Her curiosity was answered, reluctantly.

“Yes, angelic.” Alexis hugged himself slightly, not wanting to look at the runes at all. He did not want to learn about any pilgrimage or ancient temples. “Leave those runes, we’ll sleep and keep going.”

Ariel was the one to pay a closer look to it all. If Alexis had bothered to glance and try to decipher the eroded marks, he would see what was bothering her. The runes were in a dialect she did not recognize, one she had never been taught by him or Angus.

She attributed her lack of understanding to the horrible state in which the walls were. And so, she followed them all down the stairs, glancing back with a curious frown. The first to set foot in the lower chamber was Uriel. Because of it, he was also the first to frown. The room was not dangerous, and better preserved than the one above, but it was still strange and slightly ominous.

“What kind of temple was this?”

Alexis was the second to enter. What he saw, he never had seen.

“This is…” He shook his head, never having seen such architecture. “No, this can’t be a temple.”

It was a small chamber. There were indeed runes, better preserved than the ones above, but they were not the main thing that decorated the huge wall in front of them. Angelic ruins in this world were usually full of murals and shrines. This room was full of another thing instead, and it made it look void and foreign to him. Long big lines coursed through the stony floor and walls. They traversed the whole chamber, intersecting at the lower part of the main wall, into what looked like a circular indent. If he did not know any better, he would say that it looked like a mechanism, but angels did not use such things in their areas of worship.

Such sight finally made him walk past Uriel, to examine himself the runes. He brushed off some sand off the wall, glaring at them. The more he stared, the more he scowled. His next words only made Ariel lean her head, never having heard Alexis doubt in his own speech.

“This dialect is far older than any I’ve been taught.” And it was something strange, as he knew of many. “Looking at it… Fuck, angels have not spoken this since the age of guidance. I can barely make out the words.”

“Guidance?”

He answered Uriel’s confused stare with a snarl, never having liked history much.

“Angels usually measure the passage of time in ages, started and ended by events. We give them many names, but there are a few main  titles everyone agrees on.” He had to continue, noting well their curious looks, Ariel the most attentive. “Ok, it is stupid, but here’s the gist of it. We started our record of time with the age of emergence, when we supposedly were created by a walking mass of fire, which priests swear was our god. Then came the age of guidance, when humans were created and we would have to roam one hundred years in this world, if our orb shined near us. After that, angels proclaimed the age of carnage, and I bet I don’t have to tell you what event sparked it. Finally, there’s the one they say we live in, the age of binding; the orb stopped selecting us to roam, and would shine to make us kill instead.”

They had only heard parts of that, because he always tried to keep it short, hating his own heritage. It was a certain four-winged devil that made him value letting out the truth, but only if the matter was brought up and he was asked. This time it was not different. Luckily, they were satisfied with what he let out. The most important fact was that they were looking at depictions that preceded the first devil, most of humanity perhaps. It was definitely older than the northern temple they had come to know.

“No wonder it is sunk in the desert.” Aurora trailed some of the lines that divided the stony slabs, noting how the sand poured into them. “You say you can’t understand any of these runes?”

He was not answering. When she looked at her father, she noted something strange. He was tense, fixated on the engravings on the wall. Somehow, she sensed a small trace of fear from him, even though there was nothing dangerous in the chamber. She whispered, seeing how he seemed to be in a trance, not looking at them.

“Are you ok?” He finally reacted, his hand jolting away from the runes. “Did you read anything worrisome or-?”

“N-no.” He shook his head, his next words said with a shaky expression. “I can’t understand them, at all.”

All noted the clear lie, but they did not question him while he walked far from the runes to unpack his bag. He kept his gaze low, perhaps remembering what happened the last time he read ancient runes. His apprehension was clear in his voice.

“Let’s sleep. I don’t like these ruins, but they will do against the sandstorm. The sooner we keep going, the better.”

With that, he propped himself against a wall and closed his eyes with a deep frown. He did not even go to their side, pulling at his own robes for warmth. The other four exchanged glances, remembering how shameful he had been after he chased for answers long ago. They left him space, unknowing of what truly bothered him.

He did not fall asleep, not even if Uriel and Ariel lighted a fire in the chamber. Though old and of a difficult dialect, he did understand part of the text on the wall. He did not like it, at all. If the runes were truthful, this was a place of worship; one that had not followed any of the rules and customs he knew. The meaning of the runes made him feel doubt and cold.

“Surrender blood and life on these grounds, upon divine sight, for worldly strides to be guided.”

If that did not imply a sacrifice for their deity, he did not know what else it could mean. He knew first hand that priests loved to hide any fact that did not paint their culture as holy; he would not be surprised if their race had once followed such rituals. Truly, he hoped that at least they had involved cattle, and not something far worse.

As he rested against the stone, something kept nagging him, and he was not entirely sure what. He wanted to stand up and leave, unnerved by the chamber. However, when he would open one eye to peek at them, he would keep himself still. Only Lykaios was awake as well, eyeing him carefully. The others laid against his fur, fast asleep, exhausted after days of travel. They had camped out in the open many times. The cold air of the desert did not brush them here, and would never blow away the fire they invoked, like in the past nights.

They were safer here, calm and relaxed. And so, he pushed away all the whispers in his mind, waiting for the storm to pass. By morning, the wind had receded enough, and he was the first to get out of the crypt.

He refused to look back to it as they ventured back into the desert. Something kept whispering, unheard but felt.