Reta lay on the bed next to Gabriel, her fingers idly tracing her own patterns upon the intricate tangle of sigils that decorated his back. The first time she had uncovered them, he had explained that they were the result of his bargain; the bindings that separated him from his powers. She absolutely adored the sigils, not only for their inherent beauty and power, but because they let her have Gabriel.
Her fingers continued their paths as she thought about the last week. They had spent the first three days after the solstice by turns in each others arms and running through the sky and across the land. Gabriel’s pace never faltered, and she had never experienced so much simple joy while running with another.
A small twinkle of light brought her out of her reverie, and she caught the sight of another sigil disappearing in a shower of tiny sparks. “Gabriel...” she said, fear tinging that single word. Would she lose him?
He immediately woke from his light sleep, cradling her in his arms as he searched the room for the cause of her fear. “Sweetie?” he questioned when he found nothing.
“Y-your sigils,” was her quavering response. He twisted to look at a mirror across the room, and caught sight of the gentle show of light. Gabriel turned inwards, trying to discern any changes in how the sigils caged his soul. He had just found Reta, he would not lose her so suddenly!
He audibly gasped as the changing sigils settled into a new pattern, then opened his eyes to look deep into Reta’s. “My powers have been unbound. So has my ability to see and hear my brethren, to see and hear Him. Yet... I’m still Gabriel Shophar. I’m still able to chose you, to be chosen by you.”
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Reta’s exhale of a held breath showed her relief. “But… how can that be?”
A wholly unexpected voice floated across the room, “While you gave up helping to direct the Plan, you are still a party to the Plan.” The newcomer ignored Gabriel’s sudden aggressive posture and Reta’s startled leap behind her new bondmate. “And soon, your help will be needed once more,” he continued.
Gabriel dropped the aggressive posturing, though he remained between Reta and the newcomer. He sighed exasperatedly, “Brother, is that any way to say ‘Hello’?”
The angel smiled gently, “Hello brother, and hello Na’re’ta Velvetprong. I’m glad to finally make your acquaintance.”
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The contents of a letter addressed to Hisoka Twineshaft, delivered by an irate Herald who had no idea how the letter had found its way into her bag:
> It is with the utmost respect that we greet you, Hisoka of Clan Twineshaft.
>
> After the Emergence that you are orchestrating becomes reality, you will find yourself with many Amaranthine, Kith, Reavers, and even humans who are unable to exist in the eye of the public. Whether they are injured, afraid, or simply too “other”, please know that they will have a place with us. We will take them in, so you may devote your own care, attention, and time to the rest of our kin.
>
> Simply adorn them with the Enclave sigil below, and they will find their way to us, or us to them. If they need healing, here they shall find it. Whether they need the comfort of a clan who loves them or the room to wander alone, they shall have it. Should they simply need time, it is available in abundance. And whatever their reasons for coming, they shall be well defended.
>
> May you find only success on your path,
>
> Gabriel Shophar
> Na’re’ta Velvetprong
> Mabil Grárpaw
>
> On behalf of the Velvetprong Enclave