He always dreams of white, it is cold and pure and implacable. Once it was warm, once he was part of it, just another piece of a divine whole, just another serene face amongst the resplendent multitude.

 But those days were long over. Ending the moment that he fell from grace and was ousted from the Angelic Host.

*****

Angelo awoke, his head hurt, but that wasn’t anything new and there wasn’t much he could do about it. Angels needed the chorus holy song, losing it was like losing a part of his soul.

Besides simply ignoring the pain, he could either go and lurk near the dwellings of those who were still in the Host, living on an impure version of the holy song, like one of the deprived.

Or he could he learn to hate it, like the depraved devils of the void did. Or he could cut off his own head thus cutting short his misery, as he’d been somewhat expected to do.

None of those options appealed to him at the moment, so just grinning and bearing it, was pretty much all he had. At least for now.

Angelo was an Angel amongst men, a fallen angel amongst men, he was one of those who prefered to simply live like a man, whenever possible.

The featherless, the mortals, their lives weren’t simple by any means. But for the most part their existence lacked the profound weightiness that most of within the cosmos had to deal with.

Each mortal was doubly blessed with free will and cosmic obscurity. Very little they did, mattered, at least not in a way that restricted them or held them.

The karmic strings that were tied to their actions were minute and loosely connected. So in some ways it was often easier to just pretend to be a man.

Angelo woke up, and before doing anything else he saw to the needs of his beloved. Making sure she was bathed and sharpened and oiled.

Wiping her down with clean cloth and cleaning out her sheathe before sliding her back in place. Before he saw to his own needs he gave her a kiss on the hilt.

Feeling the sword grow warm at his touch. Feeling the aether within it thrum with contentedness.

Angelo showered and came back in and dressed, choosing from the assortment of clothes that had come with the room.

In all honestly clothing wasn’t a thing he ever spent much time thinking about. As a warrior of the host, the only thing one needed to ‘not’ be naked was one’s sword and one’s wings.

Even though he was no longer part of the holy host, he still kept to the same school of thought.

The first few hours of the day was spent in meditation. He’d sit with his blade in his lap. Cultivating the energy within him, working to keep its flow pure and strong.

He’d listen for any calls from his new master. It’d been awhile since he’d sworn service to anyone, but even now he still knew how such things were supposed to go.

In truth the situation wasn’t all that bad, Angelo’s main duties were the protection of those his lord held dear, and some minor assistance with the running of the company.

Aside from that and any special orders Angelo was given his time was his own. And in general “most” of Angelo’s time was his own. He was only sent in when the boss was unavailable and the danger was high.

The female executives of the Bone Tree Company were all formidable in their own right. And rarely did they ever run into something that was entirely beyond their ability to fight or to flee.

Not a bad situation at all. He ran his fingers along the surface of his sword. Caressing the blade. In truth, even if the deal had been more dire, and the requirements cruel to the point of hellishness, he’d have likely still accepted.

He could never forget for ‘whom’ he was doing this for, or why he was here.

*****

There was a limit to how long one could meditate without something breaking one’s concentration, a bottleneck getting in one’s way or one’s legs falling asleep. Some might push through these hurdles, but most would just give up for a time.

Angelo reached a point of cultivation that he found satisfactory, for the day’s efforts and then stopped around there. Then his usual restlessness pushed him from his room.

He wandered into the kitchen where there was a stack of sandwiches, their insides packed with the heavily seasoned, honey-roasted meat of some manner of demonbeast.

 After looking at the glow  within his aether sight he realized it was the meat of one of the god-monsters.

Three years of living in the palatial dwelling, was enough for Angelo to know that food that was simply left out like this, in their house, was usually meant for everyone. A sort of communal platter. So he helped himself.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The sandwich was delicious, the meat sumptuous and tender, the cheese and sauces all working in balance. It was very good but not perfect, so in all likeliness this was Tamra's work.

The raven haired woman, made a point of trying to pick up her master’s skills as she followed him around. As if she were trying to justify her odd tendencies by claiming them educational.

Angelo helped himself to another sandwich before moving on.

He’d nearly made it to the front door when he ran into one of the two head ladies of the house. It was the yellow feathered one, the bird-kin girl.

“....Morning, Miss.” said Angelo.

“Mhm? Oh...Morning Angelo. I don’t suppose you’ve seen Billy around have you?” said Edna.

Angelo wasn’t really all that comfortable dealing with her. She reminded him too much of his superiors in the host always seeming just a little too above it all.

Focusing on the big picture and seeing nothing wrong with manipulating the smaller matters just for sake of making everything tidy.

Her mildness, courtesies and ultra saccharine manner reminding him of the airs and posturing of the Arch-Devils of the Inferno. Her smile was a devil’s smile, false, and full of pretense and guile and danger.

She was like a chainsaw hidden, beneath a lace doily.  Or a throw pillow with a pistol inside. Outwardly harmless, but hiding a nasty surprise.

It wasn’t quite to the point of dislike, but dealing with her always put Angelo on edge, she made his wings itch, but working with her was part of his duties, so he hid his real sentiments.

“Mh? Master William, isn’t he right behind you?”

She frowned, and even frown, was just a bit too playful, and then she turned around, smiling. The smile becoming a bit more genuine when she saw that Billy was in fact standing right behind her.

“Oh there you are! Where were you? Did you just teleport in?”

“Nh...Having transcended corporality, I am wherever my aether is and this house and the grayworld it’s anchored in, is more or less filled with my aether, so I’m kind always everywhere here….Did you need anything?”

There was a half second of silence where both Angelo and Edna, tried to make sense of his words.

In the next half second, Edna just laughed. Seeming to shrug and give up.

“Whatever you say, dear. Anyway, we’re going to be late for the meeting with the Maynard Group.”

She took him by the hand and led him out the door and he followed her with a barely a look towards Angelo’s direction.

Angelo felt a bit of cold sweat rising on his brow, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

‘Transcending Corporality’ wasn’t a thing that one spoke of lightly. Amongst the angelic host with only the highest amongst the Seraphic Chain of command who were no longer bound to concrete boundaries.

Using their vast souls to directly monitor territories that were under the host’s protection.

Within the cosmic sea it was only the most ancient and most dangerous of creatures who could live more as concepts and presences rather than tangible beings.

Entities that were usually on the brink of breaking through and rising up into the higher planes of existence.

Saying that one had Transcended Corporality was akin to saying that one was an ascended soul.

A soul that could exist merely on its own power. Largely unaffected by the brutal forces that came hand in hand with the ebb and flow of causality and raw reality.

*****

“Hey...let’s go.” said a voice at Angelo’s back.

He startled, his senses flaring out, he nearly drew his sword as he turned around, but the feedback from his senses, told him who was standing behind him, before anything truly unfortunate could happen.

“Wait… didn’t you just leave with Miss Edna?”

Billy shrugged.

“Nh?...And so? What does that have do with anything? Anyway, stop messing around we’ve got work to do.”

*****

The second Billy headed out the door, and Angelo stared at the open doorway. He wondered if the girls knew just how terrifying this thing pretending to be  a young man really was.

Then Angelo wondered exactly just how much trouble he and his beloved were in, since they ostensibly tied to this being for a vast stretch of the foreseeable future.

“Nh?...Yo...Angelo, what’s the holdup?” called Billy.

“Coming,...... sir.” said Angelo. Following his master and closing the door behind them, as they left.