The city, Spes Nova to the the pretentious. The old capital to everyone else. Was founded on gray featureless stone. The arch before her stood in denial of that fact.

Every inch of the arch was etched. Every other was painted. Millenia old murals of the ancestors. Primal and human. Where coated in paint and not a decade old. The emblems of dead houses stood with corporate logos. Stories woven in stone.

Through it rest of the city lay through it.

Disharmonious. Messy. Loud. Ever beautiful.

That was the city. She hated it.

She stepped through.

***

Cloying as always. She sighed. Breath shallow she walked through city streets. Had she missed some holiday? It wouldn’t be the first time.

There weren’t many other explanations for the press of people. She struggled against the tide of people moving to the city’s main gate. Shoving when careful steps failed to find passage.

Fear sparked behind her. Her head whipped around in time to see the boy flinch. Wide fearful eyes stared up at her. Half hidden behind long fluffy ears. She smiled at the rabbit progeni. Taking care to keep it toothless. They bolted into the forest of legs.

Her features flattened, At least he didn’t cry. She walked away.

A conversation caught her ear.

“It’s an angel,” a pair stood at the edge of the streets ponderously hurried flow.

The old woman traced her fingers through the grey feathers lining her collar. “Sal why would there be an-”

“I don’t know but-” her conversational partner a young man with red feathers all but bounced. The current pushed her onwards. She kept her ears sharp.

The conversation repeated details shifted. Sometimes it was one. Others said a whole flock. Though she felt choir might be more appropriate. In stories, they all had beautiful voices.

Beautiful or insane. A smile touched her lips. Though she never understood where they came from.

She even heard tales they were here to marry a pure-hearted maiden. She stifled a chortle. The gossiping mothers seemed taken with the story.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

One fact was constant. There was an angel in town

**

One a stone path. Of ancient cobbles worn to a polish. Where a dozen could path shoulder to shoulder. A lone horseless cartridge trudged along.

In its front sat a man. Shrouded in a grey robe. His hooded eyes were ringed with dark bags. He gazed vacantly at the road ahead. And the loom loom walls.

Unremarkable save for his steely wings and the faint jangle of chains beneath his robes.

He smiled faintly listening to the conversation of his wards.

“It’s strange,”

“You don’t have to tell me again.”

“I know, but it’s strange do you know they kill things to make these.”

“They do?”

Inside the cartridge, Two winged young men dressed in light blue silk robes. Trimmed with gold thread, that complemented their dark skin. Pawed at their dress.

Confusion and distaste, written on their features.

“Yes, though I’m not sure why, they should know how to use plant fibres.” His wings were a dusty yellow. That wavered on the edge of brown in places. He looked up at the other man. “What do you think Lux.”

He ruffled his pure white feathers and reclined in his seat. “I think theres a good reason.” He poked his head through the cartridge’s window. “The land folk have different needs.” He shot the other a smile.

“True,” the first sighed and released his clothes.

Pleasant silence fell between them. Where one stared contemplatively at the ceiling. The other smiled and waved at every passing gust of wind.

“Can you feel it!” Lux said all but hanging out the cartridge.

“Yes,” his companion hummed with amusement.

“All those people, Igni!” Lux whispered as if to restrain his cheer.

He chuckled. “And their problems.”

“And we’re here to help them.”

He tilted his head. “I’m pretty sure we’re here for politics.”

“Bah!” Lux waved his hand. “That’s the method, not the goal.”

“Perhaps, but the method is important,”

“Well so is the intent, and don’t tell me you’re not excited.” He pulled himself back inside and met Igni’s gaze.

“Well.” Igni dragged.

“Well.” Lux teased.

“It’ll be a learning opportunity,”

Lux threw his hands up, “We have agreement.” His wings puffed to their fluffiest.

Igni smiled and slightly raised his wings. “Indeed we do,”

***

With some reluctance, her steps took her away. The first angelic visit in her lifetime and she was missing it.

She left the wide-painted streets. Tracing her way through the arches that separated the city’s many districts To a place with a besotted sort of beauty. That showed age in a less celebratory fashion.

Spires sprouted from the gray ground. Like sparse blades of grass. Other buildings loomed. Whether castle or hall each was a monolith. Watchers.

And around them. The slum’s dwellers’ construction sprawled. A stain of wood and brick.

Dug into the mountain the city lay against. It was the only forest she knew. Though not a shred of green grew here.

There was a pride here. In greatness’ shadow. But. The streets were empty.

Without a soul in sight. Or voice to be heard

She carried on. The absence heavy on her tongue It was bitter. Like a meal left incomplete. Gnawing, at her attention.

Yet was a balm compared to the prior glut.

She walked through the abandoned alleys. Staying far away from the hangers-on she caught with her senses. It was never worth it.

She stooped before a castle. Its gaping windows were covered with wooden planks and corrugated steel. She ascended its steps and stopped before its pitted wooden door.

She could taste them. A wash of anger and greed. That smothered the castle’s other inhabitants. Smothered her.

The boss was waiting. She stepped in.