- Part X: The quiet between the storms
- Part XI Engels in Waiting
- Part XII Savage Beauty
- Part XIII: Who are men such as these?
- Part XIV: The Storm Rises...
- Part XV: The mystery
- Part XVI: The Storm Erupts
- Part XVII: In battle shall they fall
- Part XVIII: With a cold blade
- Part XIX: As the water falls
or back to
Part X: The quiet between the storms
Luriel had taken some additional rest as she awaited the arrival of her party. Upon waking, some portion of the stiffness and bruising had eased, but she still found her bitten shoulder sore and its wound angry.
Rising, she walked around the village, with no sign of her group having arrived as of yet. She did see children at play. Her spirits were lifted, for these children had a light in their eyes and a joy that had been absent yesterday, and most likely for many months. Word had spread that the evil preying on them had been forced to move on, and they were now free.
Luriel smiled, and watched them for a moment. She became aware, though, that their play was not nonsense. They were re-enacting her battle with the fell creature, and this made her uncomfortable. One of the children, a young boy, played at being Hoffman and menaced the others.
The children must have sensed her displeasure at their game, and a hush fell over them. One, the boy who played Hoffman, left the group and approached her, only a hint of fear in his eyes. It was hard for Luriel to understand how to relate to humans who rarely saw Engels. The villagers all worshiped her so, it made her uncomfortable. Yes, she was an Engel of the Lord. But she was their servant and protector, not their master. They had nothing to fear from her.
The child asked her with a tremulous voice if she would tell them of her adventure last night so they could play it right. Luriel pondered how to reply to the timid faces of the children, and then decided on the best course. She gathered the children around, and began to tell them a different story, one that centered on other children who had overcome much and created something great and lasting. She told them of a child who did not age, and how children had come from the destruction and darkness following the plagues and floods to found the Engelitic Church.
The children all watched Luriel with amazement and wonder, and she felt good replacing their interest in the murderer with something righteous and holy. Still, as she told the tale, she realized that young Miriam, the girl she had saved from death, was not present with this body of children. She asked the collected youths where Miriam was, and learned that she was in her house with her mother.
Luriel thanked the children, and left them playing games of the fore-children of the Church, and of the coming of Petrus Secundus. Luriel reached Miriam's house, and saw the mother placing laundry out to dry. The girl held fast to her mother's leg, and it was clear the loss of her father had affected her deeply.
Luriel didn't approach them, as she wanted to give them time to deal with their grief, and she worried that her presence would be all too sudden a reminder of what had happened. She prepared to make inquiries into the death of the Prelate, and see what she could do (if anything) to help, when she saw Mathiel and Cassiel flying over the northern side of the village. At last, the Fellowship and party had arrived.
She was very pleased to see them all, even though she feared the verbal lashing she was certain to receive from Touriel. All greeted her, especially Cassiel who immediately was concerned for her bruises and cuts. Adolphus, though, concerned her. In the short time since she had last seen him his bearded face had grown even more pale. He was an old human whose remaining years would be short, but she sensed that the trip was not easy for him. Cassiel noticed her concern, and told her that he was doing all he could for him to keep him in good health.
Touriel ordered Cassiel to tend to her wounds, and then asked Luriel to meet with her as soon as they were finished. Mathiel met Luriel's look at this, and in a silent way they shared a moment of dread as to what Touriel would say over her adventure.
Cassiel was able to heal the bite, and examined her stomach to see the sting mark that had nearly paralyzed her. He fussed over her till she grew frustrated, but it was clear that he had been worried for her after learning from Mathiel that she had been injured. Cassiel told Luriel how brave he thought she was, fighting something as strange as this false priest who could move things with naught but a gesture of his hand. Luriel thanked him, and headed away to meet Touriel. What would she say? And worse, what would Luriel say back?
Touriel stood alone near the now empty church, pondering the ground. Luriel cleared her throat, and approached. Touriel smiled at Luriel, a reaction she was not expecting. Touriel told her that while it would have been safer and more tactically sound to have waited for reinforcements before racing off to fight an unknown enemy, she had demonstrated great cunning and intelligence in not only fighting the enemy but deciphering who he truly was.
Touriel told her that Engel must all too often fight a strong if not stronger foe, and that only their wits and cunning would win the day. She wanted to know the rest of the details that Luriel had found in her investigations, and paid particular interest to the riddle Luriel had found on the wall. She charged Luriel with continuing to try to answer it.
Luriel then asked Touriel a question. She told her that she felt frustrated that she was not better trained as a Ramielite in the necessary arts of war, and wanted permission to ask Kyriel to help train her. Touriel seemed pleased that she had asked for permission, and granted it letting her know it was a good idea.
Luriel left her counsel with the Fellowship's leader feeling pleased and surprised. She had for the first time had a mutually positive meeting with Touriel, and hopefully this would be an indication of what future relations with her would be like.
Part XI Engels in Waiting
Luriel now ventured to check on her old nonnus. She was worried about him, noticing before how he looked somewhat ill upon arriving in Groten. Vienna was still several days ride to the south, and as she understood their mission, there would be little rest for him when they arrived.
Luriel found herself thinking more about their mission and her nonnus. It had been a revelation to her that he had been a Raguelite nonnus before the destruction of that order. Had he lived through the actual attack at Trondheim? She only knew what little she had been taught and had read of the subject, but the idea of her beloved Adolphus there on the day a Himmel was brought low was hard to imagine.
He had been a great figure in her days as a postulant, always ready to answer her many questions, and he provided a friendly ear to her ideas and thoughts. One memory in particular came to her as she made her away across the village to the house he was resting within. It had been one of the first times she had taken to the air alone, without the guide of other older Ramielites. She had soared into the clouds, exultant in the feeling of the air and the freedom of the sky.
She had been told to not fly too far, as she was still very young and her muscles were still growing into her new form. The path from Heaven was exhausting, they had been taught, and it took time for their perfect essences to best meet with the impurities of this base world. Heedlessly she flew higher and higher, finally piercing the clouds and reaching the open sky above. The moon was high in the sky, shining its brilliant gleam. All around her was the naked jewels of the night sky, hundreds of twinkling stars for her eyes to drink in. She had never flown above the clouds before, and the stars were unknown to her. What could they be?
She soared back and forth, rapt in attention to the mysterious canvas before her. She knew from her lessons that Engels were called down from on high… of course! The stars were the Engel yet to be called. She was looking at her brethren in the sky, who dreamed in Heaven before their Archangels called them.
Young Luriel was proud of herself for her deduction, and immediately felt no other call than to tell her nonnus and make him proud of her for being so brilliant. With great speed she descended, and immediately marched to his chamber in the Himmel. She excitedly told him of what she had seen and what she now realized it all was.
He smiled at her, patting her on her head and shoulders, and shook his head. “Little one”, as he always called her, “you are mistaken, I am afraid.” He tutted when she looked crestfallen, and told her what the stars really were. He told her how they were not unlike the sun in the sky, and how they were a great distance away.
He explained how they could not be Engels waiting to be called, for Engel’s are called often, and yet the stars did not change. They were in patterns, called constellations. With the proper tools, one could find their way in the night by the patterns of the stars.
Luriel was interested in this, and asked how could one do so? Adolphus paused, looked out of his chamber as if to make sure no one was walking near, and then pulled forth a strange contraption he wore on a chain around his neck from under his robe. He told her it was an astrolabe, and that using it correctly one could find out where they were, no matter how lost they became. Luriel wanted to know more, but then Adolphus put the tool away. He told her they would speak no more of it this night, and how he did not want her to say more of it to her fellows. It would be their secret, special between them.
Now she knew why he had such a device, for he had lived as one of the order who kept all technology, the shepherds of the tool and device in far distant Trondheim. Why had he not told her? Was it a secret? More likely, she thought, a matter of shame over the dissolution of the Raguelite Order. But he had been nonnus to this Thagiel. What would that be like for him, to know one of his postulants had betrayed the church, and now he must see the traitor face to face?
Luriel entered the chamber that Adolphus rested in quietly so as to not wake him if he slept. His eyes were open and aware, and he wrote in a journal he kept. They spoke, but he was guarded of his past. He did not want to speak of his past, only confirming that yes he had been there when the Himmel fell. He, and many others had been ordered to leave as the Engel of the Himmel made one last desperate attempt at defending against the massive army of Dreamseed and the approaching Inferno.
Then she asked him of Thagiel. Adolphus grew quiet and, at the mention of the name, more pale as well. Luriel began to suspect the trip was not all that made him ill. Perhaps Adolphus dreaded the actual purpose of this mission.
“I do not wish to speak of him. He is a traitor to his Order and to the Church. You would do well to avoid him when we reach Vienna. Now let me rest, little one.”
Luriel nodded, placing a wrap around her aged teacher. She left him to rest and went outside. The Templars and Rythe were speaking outside the house, keeping a guarded vigil, protecting their charge. There words fell silent as she neared them, and she could see awe in the eyes of the Templars of her own order.
In Rythe’s eyes, there was more than awe. She could tell he took pride in an Engel of his order. He greeted her, and put into words what she had gathered from his look. He told her how the villagers and their children were celebrating and how they would be throwing a feast tonight in her honor. He imagined that in the years to come many children of the village would be named human forms of “Luriel”, be it Lorry, Lurry, or what-have-you.
Luriel was not certain if such was right. She had not defeated the creature, and really it was not her that had driven it away. Hoffman could have killed her. She tried to voice words such as this to Rythe, and he understood her misgivings. He told her that Touriel had ordered that no Engel should go to such a festival, and that they should keep their distance from the celebrators. Still, Rythe told her, it was his opinion that she had fought bravely and he was proud to be in her company.
Before Luriel could respond, she caught sight of Kyriel, and approached her in order to ask her assistance in helping to train her for battle. Kyriel listened, and gave her a serious look. She told her that she would train her, if and only if she could pass her test. Before Luriel could ask the test, Kyriel turned and started to walk away. Luriel followed her, calling after her, wanting to know what such a test would entail.
In response, Kyriel whirled around, sword drawn in a blur, and brought the blade down at the Rammielite! Luriel only managed to defect the blade by the edge of her own knife, but succeed she did. Kyriel laughed, hit Luriel on the shoulder with no small force, and told her that she would teach her soon.
As Kyriel turned away again, Luriel rubbed her now sore shoulder, and pondered if she had just made a mistake in the asking.
Part XII Savage Beauty
As Kyriel walked away, Luriel heard Maethiel behind her.
“I don’t know if you’ll learn much from that flame haired Engel other than how to hack off limbs and risk your life.”
Luriel turned, expecting to see his sly smile, but instead he looked almost upset. Was he not joking? She had trouble understanding him sometimes. He was the most human of all of the Engel in her Fellowship, and sometimes he could behave in inscrutable ways.
She asked him if he really thought it was a bad idea, but he evaded the question. He mumbled the he also could have taught her how to fight better, but then seemed to want to drop the subject. It almost felt as if he was jealous in some way.
The rest of the day passed with little of note. The town celebrated the ending of its dark time, parents thanked God that their children were now safe, childless parents asked God why their children had been taken, and the little ones slept dreaming of Engelic protectors soaring above. One girl, Miriam, cried herself to sleep wishing for her father to tell her one last story.
Luriel and the Fellowship stayed for the night, planning to make way for St. Terrel’s, nearly a day’s ride to the south, at first light. According to Cassiel, Adolphus was well enough for the journey but his health could turn easily.
The Prelate was buried in a small ceremony that Touriel officiated at, and promises were made that a new Monach would be sent to the town by the Gabrielites in time. An odd moment happened then, where it was clear on the faces of some of the villagers that no hurry was needed in a new priest. While they clearly trusted the Engel, some level of mistrust and fear had been bred in these innocents. It seemed clear to Luriel what damage doubt could cause if evil men pretended to be holy.
At long last, with nightfall and the last preparations made, Luriel turned to rest with her other Engel, drifting at last into a somewhat easy sleep.
The dream was odd.
Luriel was atop the rafters in a stone and wood church not unlike the one in Groten. She was hunched over strangely, her body feeling heavier than it normally did. A figure was below her at the altar.
She was frightened. Something was not right with her form. Her hands were talons, and her feet alike to some war-bird. There was no Ramielite tunic over her body, no sacred signum. She was some feral bird-creature, a beast lurking in the shadows atop this church.
Her attention focused on the form below, a man walking from the altar now, carrying some form of incense token swinging back and forth. The smell prickled in her nose, too intense for normal scent. What was happening!?
Then her eyes caught sight of the man below. He wore a monach’s robe, but it was Hoffman. She may have become some beast herself, but before her was the beast she wanted dead. Her anger became a white fire, and with a war-cry she leapt from the wooden beam and descended upon him in savage satisfaction. She tore into his form, biting and ripping with an atavistic ecstasy alien to her being.
She stopped then, flesh and blood dripping from her changed face, her wings stained in crimson, and sang. The voice filling the empty chamber was one of release and fulfillment.
Yes. She had enjoyed her meal.
Luriel awoke covered in sweat and horrified. The taste of the kill was still on her lips, and the feeling of satisfied hunger terrified her. Where did these feelings come from? Where in fact did the dream come from?
It was nothing that she had felt before. She was terrified, to have become some thing, and to enjoy killing someone that much, even if it had been Hoffman. She pushed it from her mind. It was lunacy. A dream that fed on unsettled fears. That was all.
She gathered her things and went outside into the almost sun of near morning, and made her way to the Templars who were readying the horses and Adolphus’s wagon. She would help them, and clear her mind in the fresh air.
As she finished, Rythe caught her eye and motioned behind her. Luriel turned and found the young girl, Miriam, standing before her holding her cat. For a moment, Luriel flashed on the strange thoughts that passed through her mind when she held that cat only two nights past.
Luriel kneeled down before the girl, and motioned to her. The child looked at Luriel, and asked her in a clear voice unfettered by tears when her father would be coming back. Luriel closed her eyes, and asked the Lord above to give her strength. How could she best answer the child? What had the child’s mother told her?
She told the girl that her father had been sent to Heaven above, and that he would wait there for her as long as Miriam lived. That he would be there for her when she herself passed into the Heavens that wait beyond the pale of death. Then Luriel told her that her father had been very brave, and had fought the evil man to make sure all children, especially his fair daughter, would be safe and able to live long joyous lives.
Miriam sniffled, began to cry, and then hugged on to Luriel firmly. She asked the Engel not to leave. The cat, smushed between the two, meowed loudly with annoyance at being bound between them. Luriel stroked the girl’s head, and told her softly that she had to go. She had something she had to do, other children to protect, but that she would have no reason to be afraid. It was safe here now. A new Monach would come soon.
Miriam pulled away, wiping at her eyes, and asked Luriel a question that set her back.
“How will I know who to trust?”
Luriel smiled at her, and told her that all she could do was rely on what her heart told her. She said that you can trust what your inside tells you.
Then the Fellowship left Groten, continuing on its journey. Luriel found herself looking back at the retreating village as they rode south. She could not remove the image of those questioning eyes looking up at her, the doubt of ever trusting again.
From her own horse Touriel watched Luriel, and the Michaelite sighed to herself as she saw in Luriel what she had seen in other Engel. This was a world filled with troubles and pain, and Engel could be pulled low by them if they were not strong.
Part XIII: Who are men such as these?
There was not much of a road for the Fellowship and party to travel down, as they were nearing the far reaches of Engelitic controlled lands. By the vagaries of fate the Gabrielite Order held the swatch of land between Ramiel’s lands to the north and the Diadoche “occupied” lands to the south. Saint Terrels, the Gabrielite monastery they approached, was the final bastion of decency and order before the typically lawless lands of the heretic junklords began.
Small discussions had broken out between the Engel on horseback. Kyriel was mostly quiet, only interjecting in a firm off-putting manner that aggravated Maethiel. Cassiel and Luriel spoke and laughed quietly. There was a tenderness to Cassiel that appealed to Luriel, and a friendship began between them. Touriel rode ahead of the others, quiet, and perhaps introspective in her thoughts.
Who knows what Touriel wondered that day on the road to St. Terrels? Perhaps she questioned the nature of their journey. What could Adolphus achieve when he reached Vienna? Perhaps he was going to try and lure back the traitor. But Touriel would have doubted that. She knew, as the others did not, that on three separate occasions powerful Engel had been dispatched to destroy Thagiel. On one occasion the Engel sent had been an elder Michaelite.
Touriel also knew that none of the Engel sent ever returned.
No, Touriel knew too much to think that Thagiel could be won back by the sudden appearance of his old teacher. Touriel had other ideas as to why Adolphus had been sent. As I said, who knows what Touriel thought that day? It is lost to us.
The Templars muttered among themselves about the possibility of another Dreamseed attack, and of the considerable danger that lay ahead. One of the younger of the warriors spoke only of his excitement at seeing the armies of the junklord with his own eyes. Rythe nodded and smiled to his men, himself eager to travel where few of his fellows ever did. To see an enemy country in a time of relative peace was a rare possibility. He savored the thought of it.
There would be danger, he admitted to himself, but the exoticness of it outweighed the anxiety.
Alone among the gathered riders, Adolphus rode in his wagon, his eyes veiled from the sunlight under his cowl. His thoughts were his own. As the others discovered one another and pondered the future potential of life, he tasted naught but ashes. He knew from his first meeting with his Ab in Prague that this mission would be his death. He was asked to achieve the impossible. He had been told things he did not want to hear… not after so many “little ones”. If it was true, he had to try. It was a desperate hope, but one that he clung to. Thagiel… how he ached to see him, and despaired of the coming to the day it would happen.
Part XIV: The Storm Rises...
The three Engel landed in the courtyard of the monastery and were greeted by Templars and monachs about their routines. Saint Terrels was a place of order amid the chaos of the world. Ab Goethe was a hard man, and believed that an easy hand led to an uneasy state. As such, the three Engel were noticed by several, and every effort was made to greet them by all near.
Luriel, Maethiel, and Cassiel had been sent ahead to let Goethe know that Adolphus would be arriving shortly and that preparations should be completed for his stay. Word had been given as the trip began, but now that he finally approached the fortress before the wastelands beyond, a final notice was expected.
The three Engel began to make their way to the Ab’s chambers when Luriel caught sight of the shy young monach she had met upon her first visit to the monastery, Davrus. She beckoned to him, and left Maethiel and Cassiel to speak to the Ab without her, imagining they could do as well as she in such a role. Luriel had to catch up with Davrus, as he acted as if he had not seen her motion to him.
Luriel smiled at him and greeted him, expecting to find the shy but friendly face she had spoken to before as she had helped him pick up his boxes. Instead, Davrus would not meet her eyes. He seemed uncomfortable in her presence, almost recoiling from her. What had transpired?
She reminded him that she was the Engel he had only recently met, hoping that his memory might be at fault for his behavior. He nodded to her, but backed away slowly. Something was wrong, but Luriel was uncertain as to what could be responsible for his almost fear of her presence. Despite her uncertainty, she bid him a good day and turned to walk away.
Perhaps he had been criticized for his casual relations with an Engel on her last visit. The idea sickened Luriel that he could have been punished for speaking to an Engel. She was often confused over the peculiar way humans reacted to her kind. Still, this was wrong. She pondered asking the Ab of the matter. She had not met this Goethe yet, other than seeing him speaking with Touriel. Abs are to be wise and educated people. Surely he would see the light and resolve this injustice!
Luriel walked up the steps to the Ab’s chambers and entered his presence in time to hear a flagrant indictment of her order. Her temper flared as he railed before Maethiel and Cassiel on “how a murderous dog such as this Hoffman could only have been born from the order of scribblers and readers in Prague!” How could he say things such as this? How dare he!
The Ab caught sight of Luriel entering, and did not pause for more than a breath before greeting her with his scorn.
“It is sad, be true, that a battle-won Gabrielite was not there in cursed Groten. If that had been the cast of fate, this Hoffman would be beneath the soil- a dead man now!”
Luriel’s face flushed at this. It was not enough that he had disparaged her order’s monachs. Now he attacked her directly. How could she react? Acid words dripped through her thoughts, many responses neither diplomatic nor respectful in plentitude. She opened her mouth-
Maethiel stepped forward, bowing before the Ab. He placed himself between Luriel and the corpulent figure, answering the call of words with his own careful choice.
“It is true that this Hoffman escaped our fearless Ramielite’s arms, but it was her wits and cunning which ferreted out the deviltry at the heart of Groten. Even the poor Prelate was unaware of the evil around him.”
The Ab nodded, and in his own fashion, pulled in his barbs. Perhaps enough spittle had been thrown forth in his shouts already. He thanked the members of the Fellowship present for the last notice of Adolphus’s expected evening arrival, and made known to them all arrangements had been prepared. He then welcomed them to the courtesies of his “humble” abbey and bid them to go.
Luriel marched out of the chamber furious. How could that disgusting excuse for a man say things such as that. She wanted to go back up into his chamber and say all the things burning inside her. She would show him the meaning of a dangerous educated mind. Her brethren stepped out beside her, and Cassiel gave her a knowing look. He could tell how mad she was. He did not blame her. The Ab had spoken unfairly, and for what purpose?
Maethiel patted Luriel on the back, and grinned at her. She glared back at him, which only made him grin wider. For one moment she thought she was angry at him as well, and then she started laughing. Somehow his infectious too-human charm had extricated her from her anger. He whispered in her ear, telling her to forget the Ab’s words. He was a powerful man who sometimes took an almost cruel delight in the effect of what he said. He told her we are his guests, and have to endure him but for a short time.
Luriel nodded, and thanked Maethiel. He was right. She did not think she would have said anything inappropriate, but it was clearly less of an argument in the face of the Ab if someone other than herself defended her. Still, she hoped she would have a moment to prove herself before this man, if not for herself, for her order. The Ramielite Order was no danger, Hoffman or no Hoffman. They were loyal believers.
The three then decided to tend to each’s own respective calling. It would be many hours before the others arrived. Luriel decided a quiet moment beneath a tree to catch up on her journal entries would a most wonderful pursuit. Quiet reflection might become impossible when they entered the wastelands.
As she walked across the grounds of the monastery, thoughts of Davrus forgotten, she caught sight of a lone Engel flying overhead. Could this be Kyriel or Touriel? Had something befallen Adolphus’s party?
Before she could take to the air, the winged figure turned and landed before her. Her eyes lit up and she ran to this newcomer. Jaciel, her closet friend and confidant, had decided to pay her a call. He had flown from Prague to St. Terrels to see her. She greeted him warmly, excitedly listened to the news he brought of the riddle in the dark, and accepted the gift he had brought with him from far-away Prague.
Part XV: The mystery
Jaciel was old for an Engel, having spent nearly ten years on the physical plane. He was to uninformed eyes turning into an adult. His chin had sprouts of bristly hair and his chest had become broad and muscled. It had occurred to Jaciel that his time on earth was nearing an end, but nothing had been said regarding his advancing age. He had enjoyed his life serving man, and was not eager to re-ascend, so he had not inquired as to why he had been passed over for leaving as of yet.
All that had changed.
But before Jaciel told Luriel of what had happened to him as a result of the questions he had asked about her riddle, he first presented her with a gift. He told her how Fra Domenico, now known as the Painter of Monsters, had only recently returned from his long voyage around Europe to explore the mysteries and nature of the Dreamseed. His work had been printed, but only a limited number of copies were available and they were still highly controlled.
It was uncertain if Domenico’s journal would ever be released to the Ramielite Order as a whole, but Jaciel had acquired a copy and after reading it himself wanted to present it to his closest friend.
Luriel and Jaciel had a close relationship. He had been one of her first Engelic teachers when she was but a postulant, and they had stayed close, forming almost a sibling like bond over the year they had known each other. In Luriel he saw potential and beauty. In Jaciel she saw wisdom and experience she herself craved.
And so it was that Jaciel committed a small sin, passing into the hands of a young Ramielite a as yet forbidden text not yet approved for such a tender Engel to read. He did not fear reprisal or punishment, as something had changed before he came which brought a great many things into perspective.
Jaciel told Luriel that he had asked many other Engel and Ramielite scholars what the riddle might mean, even discussing it with the Ab of their order. Some of the other older Engel confirmed something he himself had suspected, and he now revealed it to Luriel.
SPOILERS!
It had become apparent to the Elder Engel that fewer and fewer postulants were being trained in the past few years. For unknown reasons there had been a significant reduction in the amount of Engel being called from heaven in several of the Orders, not just that of Jeramiel. Jaciel had contacts in almost all of the Fighting Five orders, and all agreed. Something was amiss, though no one would discuss it or confirm it.
Perhaps, Jaciel alluded to Luriel, the riddle explained some unknown part in this reduction of those called from Heaven. Was there some shortage of the sacred ink all young Engel were marked with? But for what reason could that be? He then told Luriel that he had expressed these concerns to Ab Abrogast himself.
The Ab had laughed at him, and told him it was all madness. The riddle was the insane nonsense of a creature of the tempter, and it was to be forgotten immediately. The Ab said something else as well, with not but a breath between it and his dismissal of the theory.
The Ab asked Jaciel if he wasn’t nearly due to return to Heaven.
Luriel was shocked. Jaciel couldn’t leave. Her throat closed in, and her eyes started to water. She hugged onto him, and argued. There was no logical reason to fear his return to Heaven, but the idea of living here without him was too awful to bear. The concern over the riddle and the dismal by the Ab became unimportant before the weight of this revelation. Why?
Jaciel merely smiled at her, held her, and looked down into her crying face. Luriel started at his eyes, as something changed in them. Was it his sympathy for her? What emotion did he feel?
“Little sister, do not cry. I will be gone, but not forgotten. We will be together again in the place at the end of all things. Together in the sky.”
He turned then, away from her, and placed his hand to his head in an almost drunken way. What was wrong with him? He shook his head, and smiled.
“Forgive me, Luriel. For a moment I felt as if you were my real sister, as if I was just a man and you a woman. Perhaps they are right. This world has grown too much with me. It is imperfect, and it infects me with its imperfection.”
Luriel wiped her eyes, and hugged onto her friend. It didn’t matter. Yes they would be together again in the future, but she still had to live through the now.
In his maturity and gracefulness, Jaciel changed the subject away from his removal to Heaven and returned the focus of their talk to the text he had brought. He told Luriel he was eager to hear her theories on the experiences written therein, and that there were great revelations within the terse prose.
With these final words, and one last tender moment, Jaciel made his parting from Luriel and took to the air to return to Prague. Luriel watched him fly away, wishing for unspoken possibilities to come true. In her child-like way she loved him as a brother, and the knowledge that this could be the last time she would see him hurt her in ways she was not prepared for nor had felt before.
Once he had vanished into the distant skies, she took solace in the gift he had presented her. In the back of her mind she pondered the words he said. Could it be possible that fewer and fewer Engel were being called each year? Why would that be? There were fewer Orders now than only fifty years past, and the war with the Dreamseed continued. Heretics abounded, the Urbanis league was considered a threat, and the world was not a more quiet place. Why would the Archangels and Pontifex decrease the called warriors of God?
SPOILERS!
Luriel leaned back against her already chosen tree, and opened the cover to Domenico’s work. It was the journal of an exploration into great darkness. She felt a kinship to this Ramielite Monach, as she herself seemed to be on a journey into darkness. Perhaps his words could aid her in finding a way to once more re-enter the light.
Part XVI: The Storm Erupts
Luriel was a Ramielite Engel. What does this mean? She is literate in a world of those unable to read.
But there is more to being a Ramielite than being able to understand the written word. Not only is one of her order able to read, but they can write. They are able to externalize organized thought in a permanent form, excising their shadows and dissecting their thoughts on the printed page. Thus, they exist differently from their fellows. They, in their own fashion, can exist in a world independent of the actual world. They can live in books, reading, thinking, taking notes, and organizing ideas.
Some think that Ramielites get their far away looks because of some potestate they possess. They whisper about a “Cathedral of Thought”, some thought-palace that advanced Engel of the order can visit in an astral way. Others point to the power of Ramielites to speak to others of their order without words, even at great distance (such as Luriel and Jaciel have done from time to time).
I contend there is a greater power all Ramielites share, but there is nothing supernatural about it. This power is the ability to exist in a world populated solely by words and ideas. They are able to crawl into a text and vanish from the ready world outside, soaring and swimming in the eddies of concepts and points.
It is to such a place Luriel vanished as she read with both horror and wonder the work Jaciel brought to her. The adventures of Fra Domenico and his companions were terrifying. Terrifying in their specifics… and even more terrifying in their implications.
SPOILERS!
Domenico had seen the genesis of Dreamseed. They were formed by raw fear, prototypical elements of dread and terror given solid reality in nightmare places at the heart of the Brandlands. She had read of great mother-beasts vomiting the darkness given form. She had read of voices in the darkness whispering their carrion call.
How could one stand against creatures born of human fear? You could not defeat fear. You would have to slay every man woman and child to eliminate fear from the world. These Dreamseed would keep coming forever, and yet they had changed. She remembered from her own studies that the Dreamseed were not as monstrous once, before the ten years of peace. What had happened?
SPOILERS!
The book answered some questions, but left many more unanswered. It left mysteries, and hinted of deep pools of horror lurking in the world around. With a slow dawning, Luriel’s consciousness let her know that she had been reading till nearly dark, and she began to return from the focused state her mind had been in. Normal concerns re-asserted, and she wondered as to how soon Touriel and the others would reach St. Terrels. She wanted to see Adolphus again, and discuss these matters with him. Perhaps he would have words of comfort and succor.
Luriel put her notes and the bound book away, and went in search of news. She had only turned the corner to the main courtyard of the monastery when she saw the answer to her question riding up to the gates of the sanctuary before her eyes. She hurried over to greet the other two members of her Fellowship, and make certain they had arrived safely without harm.
Once tired and feverish Adolphus was comfortably resting in a warm bed, Luriel found the time to speak with Touriel alone. She wasn’t sure how best to approach the Michaelite with the questions burdening her soul, so she decided it was best to try and tell Touriel things as they had happened. Luriel told Touriel that her close friend from her order had visited to help her resolve the riddle from Groten, and that he had brought her a gift of information about the vagaries of Dreamseed from an expert.
Touriel was at first very interested in the idea of answers to the riddle, but upon hearing Jaciel’s words immediately disputed them as rubbish. She claimed they were the suggestions of an Engel who had lived past his reasonable age. His mind was clouded, obviously, by the impurities choking his aging body. These suggestions were not to be trusted or even considered.
Luriel grew angry at this, for she was sensitive to the idea of Jaciel’s age and his imminent ascendance. She felt his opinions were invaluable, and Touriel’s blunt dismissal of the ideas unfair. They argued. Touriel was tired from traveling, Luriel’s emotions were drained from the revelations of the day. Luriel, upset, turned over a new vein in the discussion. Something had frustrated her since the beginning of their journey.
Luriel wanted to know why exactly they were going to Vienna. What was Adolphus supposed to do when he met Thagiel? Why did the focus seem to be so strongly on getting him there safely with no concern for getting him back to Prague when this was over?
Touriel’s face grew increasingly stony as Luriel continued. They breathed heavily, glaring at each other. The tension between the two was palpable. Touriel sighed, and said only this:
“Luriel, I will only tell you this. Adolphus’s mission is to speak with Thagiel. That is the mission as I understand it. I can not, and I will not say one more thing about it. Do you understand?”
Before Luriel could respond the two Engel heard the sounds of a man screaming and glass breaking nearby. The two immediately turned and ran toward the sounds, running directly toward the chambers of the Ab of the monastery. They ran inside, and found the Ab in the corner shaking, the Ab’s assistant on the ground ripped apart and torn, and a third monach cowering in the corner pointing across the room at a broken window.
Luriel ran to the window to see if she could see anything racing away, but saw nothing but the dark courtyard filled with shadows. Touriel saw to the Ab first, helping him to sit up, and then went to the living monach. She asked the shaking man what had happened. Luriel could see the Ab was in no shape to respond to questions, still too lost in the shock of what had happened.
Touriel was able to get the poor monach talking, and he told her what he had seen. Some half-human monstrosity had leapt into the chamber from the shadows, and had tried to reach the Ab. It had strange eyes all over its head, and limbs flailing around its body. It looked like a man, but a man that had been changed by the foul imagination of the Tempter.
The monach described this creature, but also mentioned his hair color and other details about the twisted Tempted. As Luriel listened, her stomach tightened and she knew who it must be. Davrus. He fit the description, at least before the transformation. Was that why he had seemed so changed in his behavior that morning? The odd features this monach described reminded her of the tempted Domenico and his group encountered.
Luriel ran out into the night, certain she had to find Davrus. Could the quiet man she had met only twice truly have become a creature of nightmare? How could that be? She looked around the buildings around her, uncertain of where his domicle would be? What rooms would she find him in, and (please) see him as still a normal shy human.
She found a begine and asked where Davrus’s chamber was. The old woman pointed and told Luriel that Davrus, the keeper of the granary, lived in the building she indicated. As Luriel approached the lightless building, she pondered the woman’s words. Keeper of the granary? Dark thoughts surfaced in her mind.
She pounded on the door, calling Davrus’s name. When no response came, she forced the door open and entered the empty dark. She again called his name, hoping still that she was wrong. He was asleep, a quiet but normal man. Please let the hand of the tempter not have corrupted this man.
With three steps into the hall, a shadowed figure appeared before her at the top of a narrow set of stairs. The form was the right height for Davrus, but something was not right in his outline. It was dark for Luriel to see for certain, but her instincts screamed that something untoward stood before her.
It hissed. Luriel shifted into more of a battle-stance. The thing on the stairs leapt.
Before Luriel could find her blade the two struggled, entangled in arms. She threw the creature from her, and as she rose, the light from outside fell across her face. The thing in the shadows saw her then, and the man inside the darkness opened its eyes (if only part way).
The thing whispered a toothy noise that sounded as if it said “shining one”. Luriel knew the voice. It was the man she knew as Davrus. What had happened to him! It put its arms out to its sides. She still could not see it well in the darkness of the corner it was in, but it was clear it was showing some non-violent indication. There might still be a man inside to speak with, try to save. Could that be possible? Her heart told her it must be possible.
She started to speak to the thing that had been Davrus when she heard Touriel in her head shouting commands.
“Luriel! We have Dreamseed above the walls. Many. Maybe as many as ten! I need you to me now! To me!”
Luriel was shocked. An attack now? Did Davrus’s state have something to do with it? She didn’t want to leave him here in this state, but she couldn’t bring herself to kill him. She decided to try and knock him unconscious by hitting him over the head. She approached him, slowly, trying to calm him. It reacted. It threw its head back and let out an insectoid clicking with a deep moaning howl beneath it. The sound was inhuman and awful.
Luriel heard the noise of fighting above and outside, and in a moment of hesitation, turned and ran outside to join the fight. As she rose above, she was greeted with a horrible vision.
She saw ten large flying beetles in the air, spewing liquid flame on the buildings and people in their path. A small army of Dreamseed reigned death and destruction from the skies, and she flew into the flurry of her Fellowship to slay these monsters or die trying.
Part XVII: In battle shall they fall
A storm had come, of both natural and unnatural sources. Rain poured from the black-clouded heavens, and winds ripped against the flying Engel. There were dark forms a-flight, and fires were burning all over the monastery. Luriel could see Templars running in every direction, attempts being made at quenching the blazes already gutting some of the structures below her.
Luriel searched the sky for her fellowship, only having caught sight of white wings a few moments before. How many of these creatures could there be? It was not the first moment the Ramielite had been tested in battle, but the force before her was great and the destruction terrifying.
At once the leader of her Fellowship’s words filled her mind, focusing Luriel’s being and directing her. Touriel called for her to fly toward the others, giving her direction and purpose. She did not hesitate to follow those orders, flying bravely into the thick of smoke and flame.
So transfixed she was on reaching her fellows, she almost met her doom.
A flying beetle bore down on her, its form as large as her own, buzzing with great force. She recognized the creature from her study of Domenico’s work. He had coined the term “Firebug” to name its ugly shape. Justly named it was, for as Luriel watched in horror it spit forth a gushing jet of liquid flame in her direction.
Luriel dodged the spew of death, but only barely. She felt the long hair of her head singe as she flew down and under the creature. She swung at it with her blade, but it was uncannily fast for its size and form. She missed with her first swing, and her second did little to it as the blade dented its armored hide. The mouth of the beast grew close on her second pass, almost taking purchase on her own flesh.
As she flew from it, her mind focused and cleared. She must find some way to hurt this creature of the Tempter. Her order possessed a rare gift; with a moment’s concentration she reached into her inner self and sought the nature of this thing’s weakness. What was its bane?
The answer from the depths of her power was not formed in words, but in the language of thought. If spoken aloud the answer would have been formed thusly: cold. This beast was affected by cold. It made sense. It used fire as a weapon, so ice would be its undoing. Still, Luriel reflected, she had no means of cooling this winged fire-spewer that now fled closely behind her, even now preparing again to spit flame.
As she flew through the rain over the burning Monastery, she heard screams from below as a building collapsed. Adolphus. Was he safe? She dared not risk flying to his chambers to see, as the creature behind her would only follow. She would not risk bringing such danger to his door.
Then Luriel caught sight of the water cistern for the Monastery, located atop a wooden tower. Its top was open, and the water inside would be cold, far from the fires below and exposed to the chill of the night.
Luriel wanted to tell Touriel of her plan, to see if she knew if Adolphus was safe, but before words could be shared a scream pierced her thoughts. This scream came not from below, but from within her mind. Only Touriel could speak to her in such a way in the Fellowship! What had happened?
Doubt edged itself into her thoughts. What if the water wasn’t cold enough? It was surely cool, but how cold would be needed to blanch the evil on her heels? But doubt could not be allowed. She flew faster, sparing a look behind to make sure the monstrosity still pursued, and dived towards the top of the tower plunging into the watery depths.
As Luriel swam (no longer flying), she braced herself for the creature’s watery impact. At first there was nothing, a moment of pause that felt as forever. She then saw it spitting its black burning oil over the surface of the water, trapping her. The water did not burn, but its surface was laced with fire. What a fool she had been! It was not following, only trapping her to burn or drown.
She was wrong. It now dove, seeking its prey, impacting the water with force.
It was lost in the water, uncertain of how to move. Its wings beat in the cistern sending it tumbling side over side. Luriel was only somewhat more certain of her footing than the beast, and swam towards it; surer of fighting it now that its fire spew was impossible.
She quickly wounded it, its black blood clouding the water. Still, it was a large beast, and it was beginning to move more effectively in the water. Luriel’s idea had failed, as the water was not cool enough to stop it or truly hurt it. She needed to get out of these close quarters, and yet the fire above still burned on the water’s surface. She would be covered in the thick oil if she tried to swim up.
The Dreamseed began to swim towards her, moving faster and faster. As she readied herself to dodge its assault, she suddenly knew how to escape. She swam backwards, her back hitting the wooden wall of the cistern. She delayed moving, as the black form grew closer. At the last possible moment she swung to her left and the Dreamseed, massive and itself wounded, was unable to stop. It rammed against the wooden wall with enough force to bend and almost break the barrier. The firebug, maddened by its wounds and the cold wet water around it, struggled and bit at the wood, giving enough force to finally break the wall and send it, the water, and the Engel it was trying to kill tumbling out through the side.
Luriel managed to spread her wet wings and stop her descent. When she flew down, she found the Dreamseed had been unable to stop its own fall. It was smashed on the ground below. Luriel stood over the crushed form, half expecting it to rise again and continue to threaten her.
The toothy frog-like voice from behind her had her turn, her weapon drawn.
“You killed it… it served the master, as we all do… it came for me, now in darkness… fear is in one, all one… over one…”
Luriel did not have to look into his eyes (the many eyes) before killing him. She slew him where he stood, cutting the head from his shoulders. No tears left her eyes. This thing that had once been a man had called down this army of foulness to burn everything, including those she loved.
The tempted’s death did not stop the assault, but a part of Luriel’s innocence died with him.
Part XVIII: With a cold blade
Kyriel fought with passion and art. Luriel watched her glide in and out of battle, her flaming sword tearing into the enemy. Before Luriel’s eyes, Kyriel fought with all the power and might a Gabrielite can bring to war.
Luriel fought alongside her fellow Engel, slicing her own way through the firebugs. Maethiel’s bow felled the oncoming, and Luriel turned to see Kyriel face down two Dreamseed at once. The creatures rushed her, and Luriel flung herself into the fray trying to help her friend. She managed to fight one off, and together with Maethiel’s true aim the creature plummeted to the ground below.
Luriel turned to see Kyriel finishing the second of the attackers. With a great stroke of her blazing sword, the sacred weapon only Gabrielites were afforded to fight with, she cut in twain the insectoid marauder. Kyriel then met Luriel’s eyes, a smile on her face. They were sisters in battle, two Engel together against the armies of the Lord of the Flies.
The fire surrounded Kyriel then, not from her blade, but from the firebug that had rounded behind her and now sprayed her with its black burning jet. Luriel screamed, unbelieving, as Kyriel’s form was outlined with orange flame, her hair burning, as she dropped. How? Not Kyriel, the warrior, the brave! Luriel threw herself at the offending creature and slashed at it, hacking with her blade, cutting it and fighting it in a rage. It was Maethiel’s sure shot that killed it, but as the creature died the wounds across it were not made by arrow.
Luriel flew down at once, searching for Kyriel. Several monachs and templars were trying desperately to scrape the burning thick fluid from the Gabrielite’s form, but to no avail. She was a blackened mess, the white of her wings gone in the instant of burning death. Luriel stood, tears running from her eyes, the smell of burning flesh overpowering. Luriel fell to her knees, cursing the Tempter and his tools for bringing such evil into the world, for taking Kyriel from the sky.
As she opened her eyes, she became aware of something lying in the wet grass to the right of her knee. Kyriel’s sword! No longer aflame, the sacred weapon lay alone in the grass where it had fallen, blackened skin still clinging to the hilt. She did not think of blasphemy as she picked up this weapon. She did not think of the rules she had been taught as to who could and could not wield such a weapon. As Luriel stood, holding Kyriel’s Gabrielite sword in her hands, she thought of only honor, and carrying her fallen friend’s sword into battle in remembrance of her.
Luriel lifted into the sky, searching the dark above for the last of the Dreamseed attackers. As she caught sight of one spraying a gout of flame over part of the barracks, she readied the large sword in her hands. It was heavier than her small blade, and she was somewhat unsure of its balance. She knew not the art of making it burn, or even if it was possible for the sword to catch fire when not in the hands of its proper masters. Still, it was sharp and strong, and she would use it as best she could.
Below her, unseen, stood a figure in the shadows outside the monastery. He had watched much of the battle, grimacing at the screams of the dying and injured. He wished he could stop the fight, do something to ease the suffering of the innocent caught in the battle. And still he knew that it was impossible. He could not intervene in this struggle. From the dark folds of his cloak he pulled forth a cylindrical shape, and smiled. It was time to set things in motion. For better or worse, there would be no turning back. He pressed a round button on the object he held, and it began to gently glow.
As Luriel closed on the Dreamseed she felt a click in the hilt of the sword. It seemed to flash for a moment, and then the blade began to glow a deep blue. A mist seemed to emanate from the edge of the blade. Before Luriel could stop to see what had happened, the Dreamseed charged her, and she parried its assault with the now glowing blade. The Dreamseed let out a howl, and Luriel was shocked to see where she had sliced it was now frozen. The sword somehow was releasing cold instead of fire. How could this be?
She was able to kill the Dreamseed easily, almost chasing it and slicing twice more. She finished off two more Dreamseed with the blade still as if it was made of ice. Before she killed the last one, she caught side of a strange figure on the edge of the tree-line. He was cloaked, his face hidden in darkness, but in his hands he held something glowing. She turned to fight, and when she returned to investigate, he was gone, as if he had never been there.
With the last Dreamseed killed, Luriel flew down to the grounds, the blade seeming to return to normal with her still unsure how it had become frozen to begin with. She had never in her studies read of a Gabrielite sword reverse its function. They were made to blaze in battle, not freeze. Was it because a non-Gabrielite held it?
Such thoughts and wonders left Luriel’s mind as she landed and began to try and help in the madness below. Many were dead and injured. Much of the lands were burned. She was afraid to ask of her fellows, and busied herself with moving the still living to help and searching the rubble for others not beyond hope.
Upon delivering two injured to the makeshift hospital forming on the grounds, Luriel caught sight of Cassiel, the Raphaelite of her fellowship. She had not seen him since before the battle began, and immediately went to his side. He was bent over a burned monach, struggling to heal the dying man. Luriel could feel the exhaustion coming off of the tired Engel in waves, as it was clear he had placed himself in the thick of the injured, trying to stem the tides of death. He was shaking, perhaps near collapse.
Luriel forced him to sit, to rest. She fetched him water, and held him tightly. It was then that she saw the look in his eyes. The loss. The pain. As he met her questioning gaze, Cassiel began to sob. He put his head in his hands, and told her he had tried. He had done everything in his power to save her, but it was not enough.
Luriel knew he could not be speaking of Kyriel. Not brave mighty Kyriel, so strong, so undefeatable. She was the rock of the Fellowship.
Cassiel said her name, and Luriel at last believed. She could see the grin on Kyriel’s face as the fire took her, surrounded her, and destroyed her. It was not right.
Luriel held tightly to Cassiel’s shoulder, trying to be strong. The weight of Kyriel’s sword pulled her down, but she would not break. She would be strong. Cassiel looked at her, and told her that it was not all. Touriel had fallen as well. She still lived, but she was wounded gravely. Her legs were gone, as the fire had took them when the bug had struck.
Now Luriel crumbled. The two oldest and most experienced of her Fellowship struck down here, still in the lands of the church? They had not yet set foot into the wastelands beyond, and they were brought low now?
She turned away from Cassiel, her doubt and fear growing, and saw Touriel laying on a cot. Her wings were whole, but her legs ended above the knees, burned away in the scorching flame of the Tempter. She would never walk again, never be complete on this earth. What reason was there in this?
Luriel took to the air, escaping the sounds of the dying and the smell of scorched flesh. She flew to Adolphus’s chamber, and gave thanks that the building in which he lodged had survived the assault unburned. She found him in his chamber, trying to dress himself, his hands shaking from the fever that had taken him. He was pale, and his eyes wild.
With some argument, Luriel convinced him to return to his bed, and covered him in blankets. He was sick. She could not bare the loss of him as well, so much already destroyed before her eyes. He began to argue with her once more, about letting him get up and dress to help outside, when he caught side of the new weapon she now carried.
His eyes met hers, with first a question, and then a look of knowing. Luriel began to tell him of what had happened, of how Kyriel had burned, and Touriel brought low. How she had taken up the Gabrielite’s sword. Tears now ran from her eyes, and she clung to her old teacher’s chest as she opened her heart. He listened, as he always had before, and a grim strength came to his feverish eyes.
“Listen, Luriel… what has happened is terrible. But it must not stop our purpose. We must continue on to Vienna, and you must lead us now. There is no other way. You must be strong, and wise.”
Luriel looked up at her nonnus, and nodded. She knew his words to be true. Their mission had come from the Pontifex Maximus Petrus Secundus himself. They could not fail. Not turn back. This was what Adolphus had prepared her for in the time of her training. She would have to lead the others.
The tears drying on her cheeks, she stood before her nonnus.
“I will lead us to Vienna. I will lead us there in safety. I will not see any more of my brethren fall before the force of the Tempter!”
Part XIX: As the water falls
The sun rose like an old friend. Luriel had spent the rest of the night with Touriel, tending to her, watching over her fallen leader. The Michaelite had never awoke, and mumbled nothing more than grunts of pain and broken words. Luriel once thought she heard Touriel say something about bringing the traitor back, but she was not able to hear it very clearly.
If only she could survive until a skilled Raphaelite could come, perhaps there would be hope. She knew their powers in restoration were great, perhaps even great enough to return her legs to her. But if infection spread, as the wound would be prone to cause, there would be little hope for her.
The Ab, Goethe, had confirmed her suspicions regarding the granary. Poison had been laced into the stores, and little if any would be safe to eat. A hard winter was coming, one in which the monastery and the surrounding villages would suffer. To what purpose did such destruction serve?
Maethiel had spent the night flying around the near lands, watching for signs of more Dreamseed. Luriel caught sight of him as she sat near Touriel, gliding over St. Terrel’s and landing atop the ruined cistern tower. She looked down at Touriel, face still wet with perspiration and pain, and flew up to meet him.
The two sat together, perched atop the highest point in the monastery, and watched as the first light spread over the buildings below, exposing the destruction and damage. A light rain fell, and water still trickled down from the broken side of the container below them.
Luriel then noticed the scrap of ribbon in Maethiel’s hand. It was a fragment of votive cloth Kyriel once proudly wore in battle. Looking at her companion, Luriel could see the pain in his eyes. She imagined that it should not surprise her. He had his own quiet pain over their loss. Perhaps Kyriel meant as much to him as she had to Luriel.
She broke the silence, asking of his flight. He smiled at her, his eyes tired, and told her that no signs of the enemy were nearby. Luriel wondered if Maethiel blamed himself for the loss. She certainly blamed herself- always doubting Touriel’s leadership. A shameful part of her felt that she was solely to blame for bringing destruction down on their Fellowship.
Maethiel put his arm around her, reading her face.
“It’s not your fault, Luriel. I know you blame yourself. You feel that you caused this… that your disloyalty and arrogance brought this darkness down on us.”
Luriel met his eyes with shock. How could he know? It was as if he had looked into her heart, into her secret shame.
“But you are wrong. Listen to me, Luriel. You have always acted in the way you thought was best, fighting strongly and passionately for what you believe to be the right way. There is no crime or sin in that. You did not bring about Kyriel’s death, nor did you cause Touriel’s wounds. Believe me, you have no cause to doubt yourself.”
He put his arms around her, holding her close. Luriel buried her face in his chest, and breathed in the sweet scent of him. He smelled like fresh rain. He didn’t judge her, and gave her the support she needed most desperately. She thanked him, warmth flowing into her from his eyes. She told him what Adolphus has ordered her to do, and he nodded, unquestioning, and pledged his support to her.
Together, the two Engel flew down to find Cassiel, and to make fast the preparations for their journey. They would continue on their way as soon as possible, into the dangerous realms ahead.
Continue to next part
