At once, I was overwhelmed with a rush of nausea and blindness as the apartment melted away. Impenetrable darkness surrounded me. My eyes were opened to a void. I felt wind brush my skin and whip my hair around. We were traveling through a void to whatever destination Kyrian had in mind. It seemed like I was in some everlasting, never-ending fall. Then, my feet slammed against hard ground. Off-balanced, I immediately reached out for the nearest stable object, which was a railing.

The calm interior of the apartment had been replaced with a stately administrative building. The raveling had deposited me in a second-floor hallway. To my left, the wall consisted of floor-to-ceiling windows. To my right, there was a white marble railing. Both the railing and hallway formed a square around a depression. Voices coming from the depression drew me to the railing. I peered over.

I had a full aerial view of a conference table. Every chair was occupied. There was a seriousness blanketing the room. Those at the table were in the middle of a meeting, and if their body language was any sign, none of them wanted to be there. However, none of this mattered. These people—and their guards standing behind them around the perimeter of the room—were different.

An older man sat at the prominent head of the table. His legs were spread to dominate the surrounding space. The sunlight leaking through the windows reflected against his bald head. Had he had any hair, it would have been graying, just like his neatly trimmed facial hair. His face had been hardened with experience and age. A pair of magnificent gray wings shot out of his back. The feathers were thick. The way they spread out behind and above his shoulders made him more formidable. I had no doubt the wings were as strong as his arms and didn't want to be smacked with one.

There were others who also boasted similar wings sitting next to him. A woman, a second man, and a girl who appeared to be my age sat to the bald man's left. The three of them were attired with bejeweled headpieces and held themselves with regality that could only be bred. While the youngest of the three looked bored, the couple appeared frustrated and reluctant to even be there. Heavily armed seraph soldiers stood behind them at attention.

Next to them were the men who were as bulky as boulders and extremely hairy. Their group's affection for leather and tattoos almost made it seem like they were a biker gang. The man who had a diagonal scar shooting down his face appeared to be the alpha of the pack. Seated besides them, the group of delicate-looking humans appeared fragile with their bony skeletons, evanescent clothing, and wispy flyaway hair. Two sisters—who could be twins—were seated next to each other. Crowns of flowers draped across their brow. The group at the other end of the table was composed of people who had wavy hair, sharp features, and a greenish tint to their skin. Their clothing didn't even appear like it had been made on land and was adorned with shells. It was extremely primitive and revealed a lot of skin. When one settled his elbow on the table and revealed his forearm, I gasped. It was made of actual gills. If I looked closer, I could see gills protruding from their necks—if their chaotic and tangled hair didn't conceal them. On the other side of the table, the people were just as unusual. One group had pointed ears sticking through their hair, and yet another had the unique attributes of animal features—from cat ears to an owl's canted eyes. Sitting next to them was the group whose skin glowed with moonlight: it was that deathly pale. They moved with an eternal grace.

Those who sat at the south end of the table appeared more humanlike than the others. They lacked any astonishing features. And yet, there was something different with them. Four sat at the foot of the table. Their own host of guards were comparable to the ones that the seraphim had brought. From how the male in the middle was monopolizing the discussion with his preachy voice, I knew he was the one who had called for the meeting. He stood before his chair, gesturing every so often to emphasize a particular thought. "It's time," he preached. "It's time for us to unite fully. We've been separated for many centuries now—sometimes at each other's throats. Strides are being made towards progress on our end. We would rather not be the only ones at the forefront of change. Aurora meant for the instruments to be used to usher in an entirely new world, a much-improved world."

"A much-improved world?" One of the hairy men scoffed.

The man flicked his hand upwards and around so that his palm was a base for a ball of living flame. His stare lingered on it as if he was enthralled by it. "A world without struggle, where no one has to worry about finances or if they will have to fight for a loaf of bread. A world where every city, every country, every race will be under a unified government. There would no longer be a need for terrified citizens to flee from their crumbling countries, only to burden the systems of those countries who offer a better opportunity. A world where crime will be nonexistent, for the seven deadly sins will have no purchase on souls, no way to terrorize and brainwash the young’s susceptible minds. It will be a world where we control the weather patterns and prevent cataclysms. We have the power now. We've waited long enough to act. It's time. The instruments are doing no one any good sitting as trinkets on our bookshelves!"

The man's speech was met with instant opposition. "And who will be the leader?" One of the twin queens questioned.

"You ate that entire burrito?" I had been enthralled by the conversation in the depression that I hadn't realized Kyrian was standing beside me at the railing. Surprisingly, the antagonism in his tone seemed to have vanished. It had just been replaced by a monotone.

My hands gripped the railing. "It was delicious," I grumbled. And I had been starving.

"Hmmm. I thought you would be fat, after all that prison food," Kyrian insulted.

"Is there some sort of timer going that you have to insult me every so often?"

"You think you deserve to not be insulted?"

I bit my lip when one of the seraphim glanced up at the balcony, as if she had heard us talking. It was the younger female one. Her platinum blonde hair hugged the sides of her face as it traveled down to her waist. Her wings were a mixture of white and gray. First astonishment, and then realization wiped the boredom off her face. Her frown became more prominent, and her eyebrows dipped inwards. I shifted my gaze to the wispy queen when she spoke again. I felt the heat of the seraph's gaze against my face disappear. A quick glance revealed she was whispering to her female companion. Before the other female could look my way, I shifted my gaze.

"Committees never work out long term," the same queen declared in answer to whatever the man had responded with. "There will always be some dictator to destroy the entire system."

The man tilted his head. He squeezed his fingers shut over his palm. It extinguished the ball of flame it had contained. "Perhaps you would like to volunteer to be our leader, Tatiana?" His voice was sardonically contained, almost as if he was challenging her.

The queen was not to be intimidated: she met his stare straight on. "Why, and be the first assassinated? No, thank you. You can give that title to someone else if your little plan falls into place, Alistair."

"What's going on down there? Who are these people?" I breathed, trying to remain hushed out of the fear that my voice would carry down to those around the table.

"You have the leadership from the daemeyri fractions meeting with the seraph and mages." Kyrian commented blandly.

My lips wobbled. "Daemeyri fractions?"

"Lycans. Faeries. Merpeople. Elves. Therianthropes—or shifters. Vampires." There was an entire world I had never contemplated. I stared down at the people down below. They seemed established, as if being daemeyri had always been a part of who they were and they didn't know anything different. It was me who was awestruck by their existence.

"And the people at the heads?"

"Seraphim and mages." Kyrian paused before stating, "The mages believe you are one of them."

I blinked. More intrigued, my eyes fell on the man who had created fire out of thin air. "Am I?"

Kyrian grunted. "They probably will start claiming you lost control at Union Station, blaming all those deaths on the fact that you were never trained in your abilities, and it got out of its cage that one time. They probably got the archangels to agree with rescuing you by saying they will rehabilitate and train you on how to use your abilities." Kyrian's tone informed me precisely how he felt about it. I could only shake my head; there was no reason to argue with Kyrian about why I should get this chance. He had already brought me here.

Instead, I questioned, "The mages control the elements?"

"If they think they can teach you, and you end up 'losing control' again, their efforts here today will be all for nothing. The daemeyri will not sign any treaty with them if you are out there destroying the world," Kyrian mused. "I, for one, think the archangels made a massive mistake by assisting the mages in breaking you out of jail. It makes no sense. Why do the mages want you so much? You're not a prodigy or anything."

I bit my lower lip. My mind was on a different subject. "If you're the one who broke me out of jail, does that mean you are a seraph?"

All I got was a grunt in confirmation before he shut down completely. That explained why he thought he would never see me again after he dropped me off to his superiors, his assignment completed.

"Why now? You've preached this new world ever since your new chancellor got into office. Is it at his request that we're meeting here today?" This time, it was one of the mermen who contributed to the discussion. His arms were crossed over his chest. His muscles bulged in the positioning while his hair draped over his shoulders in sea salt waves.

"He's our figurehead for change," Alistair asserted proudly.

"And he's not even here to talk to us?" One from the therianthropes expressed—the one with the rattlesnake tail that rattled with his irritation. "Our cooperation and union can't be that important to him if he's not here."

A female from the mages leaned forward so that her upper chest was hovering over the table's surface, the angle doing much to reveal her cleavage. "He's a very busy man."

"Oh? And what is he doing right now that's more important than attending the meeting he scheduled?" Tatiana, the faerie queen, inquired.

"That's classified." The bald seraph with gray wings declared over the multitude of voices that sprung up in discontent. The seraph, who had been silent thus far, had such a commanding presence that silence fell at once around the table. He stood up to further address the daemeyri leadership. "The chancellor and I have been working together to achieve Aurora’s dream. I understand you are frustrated he is not here to meet with you today, and that he sent representatives in his place. I'm not entirely sure why he had to cancel at the last minute. He would not have done so unless it was for a very important reason. I'm here, and I can address any concerns you have."

Those around the table were silent until the mer-leader spoke up. "What do you need from us to accomplish this paradise, archangel?"

The seraph paused. I scrutinized him more closely after hearing his title. "We need the Instruments of Korre given to your fractions by Aurora."

"No! Absolutely not! Aurora was specific in her instructions to keep them separated! It's all in her concordat!" The shifter with the rattlesnake tail hissed. He was not alone in his sentiment. Others were muttering underneath their breaths and shaking their heads. The faerie queens stood up and retreated into their guards, who were armed with ancient bows. I could hear the other queen muttering about scams and absolute power. The lycans had murderous scowls on their faces, and their shoulders were tense, as if they were ready for a fight. The merpeople were speaking in an unfamiliar language altogether, having their own personal conversation.

The seraph flattened his hands on the table and leaned forward in an intimidating manner. When his voice echoed in the depression, the threatening tone of it was disguised by his soft volume. Gone was the placating he had attempted to use before the immediate outburst. "The time will come when you will need to join us or you will be declared an enemy of the Union. Rest assured, this change is fast approaching, and you do not have much time to make your decision. We require you to submit to the Union by offering your Instrument of Korre. We do not make this request lightly. The chancellor and I believe it is time to employ them and usher this universe into a paradise. We would like for all the daemeyri fractions to be united with us in this endeavor."

To me, his request sounded reasonable. However, the daemeyri behaved as if they were being asked for their beating hearts and youngest children. "You're taking our right of choice away!" the lycan leader snarled.

"To do the right thing, Pynneth. Our universe has suffered long enough."

The unnamed faerie queen released an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes.

"And if we don't submit?" the merman questioned, his voice soft.

"We'll get them anyway." The mage male who had demonstrated his fire ability met the merman's gaze.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

This was the wrong thing to say. The daemeyri erupted into a frenzy. Apart from the three crowned seraphim, no one was left sitting at the table moments later. Several had shot to their feet. Their hands were flattened on the table as bases for their trembling arms. The lycan leader was red from the neck up. The elves had stepped away from the seraphim, giving them a wide berth as if they thought the seraphim would attack them. The mages had also stood up. With their hands clenched at their sides and stances bladed, they looked prepared to fight. The female mage, the one with a glorious number of piercings, was tapping her finger against her thigh.

"You are just the same bullies as you ever were," the merman exclaimed. "You haven't reformed at all."

"It's always about power with the both of you! Haven't you learned anything over the span of your brutal histories?"

"You can't tell me right now that having the power to live freely isn't tempting," the archangel confronted. "For millenniums, you have hidden your very existence from the humans. You have lived secreted in your dens and caves, afraid to even reveal your true selves in the sun's light. What the paradise offers is the ability to come out of your dens and caves and be accepted as a part of the political landscape of the universe. Queen Fallyn, you can't tell me you are not ready to expand on your power, even if it is to expand your business more than you already have." The archangel glanced at the second faerie queen, who had been quiet during the proceedings. The solemn expression on her face did not alter by being placed under the spotlight.

"The last time you tried to unite the instruments, we were hunted down by the humans. Hung. Burnt to hell in fiery pits," Fallyn reminded. Her voice was soft, musical. "Faeries were captured and our wings were ripped from our bodies. Our numbers were decimated. What signs have you received that the universe is primed for our ascension into paradise today so we can prevent a similar outcome?"

There was a thump against the table. The fire mage had slammed his hand against it. "Aurora spoke to our chancellor the night of his ascension into office. She informed him that the time was ripe to initiate the proceedings."

The lycans erupted into bold laughter. "This is pathetic," one of their deep voices declared. "The man who claims to have spoken to the paradise prophet is not even here, and he's the only testimony you have?"

The elf king shook his head and finally added his opinion to the discussion. "This is a complete waste of our time. I refuse to unite the instruments when we are not a hundred percent certain of what their conjoined power is. Aurora deemed them dangerous enough to place a check and balances system on them when she separated them and gave them to the different fractions here. You can threaten us all you like, Archangel Emerson and Senator Alistair, but you might want to examine this question before you act on those threats: do you really want to alienate the daemeyri sects to the point that they rebel? Do that, and you may never achieve the unification of the instruments." The elf king spoke so eloquently that the side conversations dissipated. He bowed his head towards the archangel and then towards the mage senators before pivoting on his feet and turning his back on the conference. The elves departed quietly through the exit in silent protest. The faerie sect disappeared through a portal of swirling lights. The therianthrope transformed into animals—some of them were birds of prey that flew intimidatingly close to the seraphim and mages. The merpeople departed in an angry discussion about what had happened today, not at all concerned about being overheard. They scowled at Alistair and the other senators as they walked past them.

The vampires, however, lingered, slowly collecting their belongings. Their pale faces revealed nothing of what was on their mind, and they quietly departed with their heads down. One of them lingered behind his peers. He stared at the mages, opened his mouth as if he was going to say something. He then decided against it before hurrying after the others.

With a sigh, the archangel directed his next comment at the mages when the room had emptied. "I'm guessing you'll tell the chancellor about the results of the meeting?" The mages assured him that the message would be conveyed before even they vanished. Archangel Emerson flashed a glance at his three companions. The older female was staring at him with fire in her eyes. He ignored it and hurried out of the room without saying a word to them.

"Come on," Kyrian said, as his hand came to cup my arm above my elbow. His pull guided me in the direction he wanted me to go, which was to one of the white staircases leading down to the lower level. His touch disappeared just as quickly as it had arrived. With a sigh of my own, I followed him.

Another question sprung to the forefront of my mind. "Where are we?"

"Elysium. Home of the seraphim," Kyrian answered curtly.

I blinked. "Is that a part of earth or its own separated entity?"

"Another question you should know the answer to," Kyrian snapped. One of my eyebrows arched upwards. Indeed, I already had the answer to it: we were in a different dimension.

"Shouldn't have I gone with the mages?" I sounded breathless; Kyrian was moving at a quick pace.

"My instructions were to bring you directly to Archangel Emerson." Kyrian's monotone voice had returned.

The staircase led down to a square lobby. Like the rest of the building, the lobby was a pristine white, constructed out of the purest marble. None of the daemeyri had remained behind to cause a disturbance. In fact, the only person moving across the lobby floor was Archangel Emerson. As soon as Kyrian and I added our echoing footsteps to his, he stopped and glanced towards us. Immediate recognition splashed across his face. He turned fully around and waited for us to meet him in the middle of the marble floor. I attempted to hold my chin high and back straight as he inspected me. It was a feat considering I knew I looked atrocious and had seen better days. The man obviously had some sort of political power amongst the seraphim. Of course, I reminded myself, he's an archangel. I suspected he was the one keeping Kyrian captured in indentured servitude.

The archangel's chin was lifted, and his hands were interlinked behind his back, giving him a regal pose. His bulk was one of the most intimidating aspects about him, while his long face conveyed he strived on discipline. As we approached him, his mahogany eyes continued his inspection. Nothing in his expression changed to reveal his judgment of me.

I stopped when Kyrian's footsteps stopped echoing across the marble. "Archangel Emerson," Kyrian greeted in that same monotone voice. "Allow me to introduce you to Briara Disraeli."

"Prince Kyrian. Miss Disraeli." The archangel greeted in turn with a slight nod of acknowledgment in my direction. I covered my sharp inhale of surprise by biting my lip. Prince? I wondered. They sent a prince to retrieve me? I ignored the urge to glance towards where Kyrian’s footsteps had stopped. There was nothing that the seemingly empty air could provide me with, anyway. "We expected you here sooner. I don’t recall giving you additional orders to divert after leaving the jail. You were to bring her directly here."

Before Kyrian could answer, a rush of footsteps came from the conference room. A feminine voice called out, "Archangel Emerson!" The archangel twisted partly to survey who was approaching. It was his three companions. The middle-aged woman led the invasion, closely followed by her male companion and the younger woman whose wings had shockingly disappeared. Both women shared similar features, such as the long platinum blonde hair and almond-shaped eyes.

The older woman was breathless as she finished her approach. She sucked in a deep breath, flipped her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder, threw her frustrated gaze at me, and then rested it on the archangel before saying, "I thought we had agreed as a council that we would not be getting involved in this!" After gesturing at me, the woman’s hands immediately went to her angular hips as she squared off with the archangel. She was too focused on the archangel to fend against her long, blonde, thin, staticky hair. With a second glance, she looked younger. Her face was wrinkle free and had a consistent complexion. It contradicted the wisdom and confidence she held herself with.

"Queen Rhiannon," the archangel greeted the woman with a voice born out of years of tolerance. My head tilted in curiosity as my eyebrows scrunched downwards, wondering if she was Kyrian’s mother. "You should fill me in on what you are referring to before you start accusing me."

The queen's gaze shifted to me as she gestured carelessly to where I was. "Her extraction!"

"The council met again to discuss the issue. We decided helping the mages with their request could prove to be more beneficial in the end than if we kept the status quo, especially since we have decided to join them in the universe's unification. Did you not get our notice?" Emerson questioned with feigned innocence.

"Obviously I didn’t get it," Rhiannon snapped. "Or else I wouldn’t be standing here demanding answers."

"The messenger must have gotten lost." Emerson shrugged.

The younger woman who had entered with the queen positioned herself to stand at Kyrian’s side. Her focus was on the piece of air between us. From the way her expressions were flowing across her face, I realized she was communicating with Kyrian. I tried to decipher the woman’s expressions. "This was unauthorized, a total breech of the trust and balance of power between the council and monarchy," Rhiannon continued. The way she was talking to him, as if she was his equal, made me think they were on equal political standing.

The archangel took a deep breath, trying to muster up as much patience as he could. "Rhiannon, our assistance didn't affect the rest of the seraphim. I didn’t even assign a squadron to the mission. Your son was the only seraph I involved, and that is because he has some time to serve."

"Emerson," Rhiannon responded in the same haughty tone. "In case you forgot in that meeting, we decided not to aid the mages because of the nature of the request. The girl is a convicted killer who was going to spend the rest of her life incarcerated. If the mages want to implicate themselves with the mortals over this when we are trying to get them to cooperate with the Valeion, then that is their prerogative. Now you’ve gone and entangled us in this madness, and we don’t even know the reasoning behind why they wanted her out. If she goes out and commits another mass killing, the blood will be on our hands for sanctioning the escape." I winced. I wanted to cry out that there wouldn’t be another mass killing. Yet, I didn’t trust myself either. The intention hadn't been there the first time. I had lost consciousness and over a hundred people had forfeited their lives. Without knowing the details on how the first one had happened and thus how to prevent another, a second mass killing was possible.

"The girl is a mage. She’ll be with the mages and their responsibility soon enough. I’ll advise the chancellor she's here as soon as we finish. Besides, I don’t believe she will go out on a killing spree anytime soon. Have you not seen the haunted look in her eyes?" I felt the flush on my face intensify. Rhiannon was quick to reply.

"You think they will be able to handle that responsibility?" She scoffed.

"Well, what would you rather have us do? Return her to her cell? The chancellor will be here to pick her up within a day, and after that, you will never have to worry about her again," the archangel mocked.

"We'll table this matter until the full council can meet and decide what to do," Rhiannon declared. "Until then, the girl remains with us."

"I will not leave her locked in another cage."

"Evangeline will take care of her." This time, it was the kind and humble looking older man standing next to Rhiannon who spoke. At this, the younger woman perked up, and Rhiannon tossed a peeved look at her companion. Her daughter, Evangeline, rapidly glanced towards Rhiannon, then Kyrian, and then me, and finally to the archangel, as if searching for his approval.

"You don’t need to burden your daughter with this. I can easily assign some soldiers to assist Bria to a guest room at the chateau while we deliberate," Emerson offered.

"It is her duty to attend to all guests of the chateau, is it not?" Rhiannon countered.

The archangel craned his head backwards in exasperation. When he lowered it again, he acquiesced, "Bria can go with Evangeline." Rhiannon looked satisfied with this arrangement.

"We will meet in the afternoon two days from now and decide what course to take with her. I'll alert the other archangels." Rhiannon asserted. She pivoted to leave, with her male companion following her. Emerson stopped her.

"Rhiannon, Jakobi, I still would like to speak to you about your son if you have time."

The queen paused before slowly turning around. Her shoulders were tensed. "What about Kyrian?"

"He failed to obey precise orders the council gave him. He was to return to Elysium with Bria immediately after the extraction. Instead, he deemed it necessary to stay the night in some apartment in Denver. It concerns me he did not immediately return her to Elysium, as was ordered. This deviance was never taught to him."

A deep frown overwhelmed Rhiannon’s face. "Well, did you ask him why he did not follow through as you requested?"

"I brought her there because we had both been injured during the extraction." I jumped when Kyrian spoke. From the sound of his voice, he had remained standing next to me during his mother’s argument with the archangel. An edge of barely restrained rage lingered on his declaration. It ushered everyone’s attention to him. "An army of demons had infiltrated the jail as soon as I took the jail's electronic system offline." Next to him, Evangeline released a shocked gasp. "When I was trying to get to the girl, a tyrannos demon interfered. Before I could do anything to help, the demon clawed the girl’s leg as she was fleeing. I wasn’t sure how deep the injury was or how much poison had been transmitted into her bloodstream, and I had to follow her throughout the entire jail. She fled the cell while I was neutralizing the demon. Her blood was boiling by the time I eventually got her out; she was involved in several other altercations. There was a possibility that the poison had transferred to other parts of her body. When I finally got to her, she was code black. She freaked out over the demons and then fainted from the overuse of her magic—which I don’t think she knew anything about."

"There are better healers here," Emerson countered. "You should have brought her here."

"There were demons?" Rhiannon shifted on her feet, unsettled. She exchanged a concerned look with Jakobi.

"She seems to be doing better than you did when we pulled you from the mortals and you discovered all about your heritage, Kyrian. She really doesn’t know anything?" Evangeline interrupted.

After not being heard the first time, Rhiannon challenged Emerson. Her concerned expression had transitioned into one of rage. "What were demons doing there? You sent my son into that festering hellhole? Alone?"

Emerson held his ground. "I didn’t know. I intend to assign a squadron to investigate the breach. You best check yourself, Rhiannon. Kyrian is a trained soldier, even if he hasn’t been assigned to another squadron yet. He’s fine, fine enough to rebel against direct orders. He's not your little boy, despite the recent prodigal son reunion." Emerson's voice was dripping with mockery and scorn.

"Jakobi and I will see to disciplining Kyrian for his refusal to obey," Rhiannon snarled. "If you ever dare to send him out on another council mission when you know I don’t approve of it, this will become a much larger issue."

"You mentioned before how you thought there was a conspiracy brewing in the council. However, the same thing can be said for you and your family. What will happen if I pry into what really happened with this assignment? Would I find out that you were trying to circumvent what the council was doing?" Emerson's threat was well concealed in his mild tone.

"You are free to do any investigation into the monarchy you wish. It would be a waste of time, as we have always had the seraphim’s best interests as the number one priority in our decision making," Rhiannon said.

I felt a hand on my upper arm. I had been too focused on the political volley that I hadn’t seen Evangeline move. She jerked her chin in the opposite direction. "Let’s go. This is nothing you need to see or be here for." Evangeline walked towards the lobby's exit. I followed without protest.

Before we took more than a couple of steps, Emerson stopped us. "Evangeline," he called. Evangeline paused, not turning fully around. "Please help Briara get cleaned up. I’m sure she would love to get out of the clothing she’s probably been wearing for a week now and take a shower. Make sure our full hospitality is provided. She’s not to be treated as if she’s back in that jail cell." A blush encompassed my face, even though the archangel was correct. I was still wearing my jail uniform. The red pants with the Denver City Jail printed down the right leg contrasted garishly with the marble sophistication of the lobby and the fine clothing everyone else was wearing. I had left the outer red shirt behind in my jail cell, and only had on my ratty white undershirt and sports bra. The undershirt was semi-transparent, especially against the bold white of the sports bra.

Evangeline nodded, and her lips featured a dutiful smile. Her hand waved at the archangel as she assured, "I’m on it."