Arakiel jolted up, his entire body a single zone of pain.
He was alive.
His senses and mind needed a moment to catch up, and then it all came back at once: the evokers, the shardtapped spell, Aurora.
Aurora!
His eyes immediately fell onto his seraphim that had fallen over his chest, her upper body and wings covering most of it.
Moving about was painful, but he was alive somehow – had he been healed again?
If so, how?
Around him, the air had a faint golden tinge and the white marble beneath alongside the high arches and elaborate decorations of the surroundings buildings let him know that he had made it.
“Halt right there, Kalanite scum!” A familiar muffled voice called out from close behind him.
He heard footsteps, but for now, he needed to evaluate the situation.
Arakiel rose under great strain and judging by Aurora’s lack of reaction, she had either fallen unconscious from shock or she had somehow saved his life.
Somehow, he hoped for the latter while guessing the former.
On second thought, the second one seemed more likely. She was very brave when it really counted and if it concerned him.
Yes, he was sure – she had saved his life… again. Arakiel felt glad… and ashamed.
Upright, he still felt thousands of little needles pricking his insides and although his mouth tasted of blood, it didn’t seem as though he needed to cough up more, which was good.
Even taking shallow breaths hurt a lot, a piercing pain welling up in his lungs.
Parts of his skin were covered in small bruises and scratches, but nothing major.
On first impression, he didn’t seem gravely injured.
“Curse you, Arakiel il Kalanaar!” Another familiar voice cried out, with his mate adding.
“It’s your fault! We had this rat cornered but you sought to toy with him!”
“You joined in, don’t pin this on me!”
Arakiel turned somewhat around so that he could more or less make out the Selenyean Evokers. “Gentleman – be quiet please.” He said in a low but smug tone, only to draw in sharply right away.
Maybe speaking wasn’t the greatest idea, but damn did it feel good to come out on top.
“Spare me your mockery, Kalanite trash. You’re done for either way,” the man with the deeper voice returned spitefully. “The Council has given you over to Selenya, terrorist – with five votes in favor. Only Alexandrite and Onyx voted against the resolution!”
From one moment to another, glee gave way to shock and disbelief. Arakiel turned around too abruptly, causing even more jolts of pain to wrack him. He nearly fainted.
After getting a grip over his bearings a brief pause later, he replied in a low, strained tone. “Impossible – you have no evidence.” Meanwhile, his mind briefly went into overdrive, but he forced himself to calm down right away.
Careful, rationale only.
One of the two men laughed as he pulled back the hood, taking off the silver mask that Arakiel must’ve punched earlier. He revealed a relatively young thickly-bearded face of a darker complexion that grinned at him with smugness.
“Fool. An Astral Thaumaturge has scanned her Highness Selene ast Rhea’s memory and your name is tied to her defilement.”
So Ezekiel had been caught. Arakiel kind of felt sorry for the man… only a very little.
“So she didn’t say it herself?” He then asked to confirm. Speaking hurt, but he had to know.
“Her Highness is still suffering from her time in captivity.” The man evaded, but there was seething in his tone.
“So you have nothing. Who can say that the Thaumaturge isn’t just making things up?” Arakiel pointed out as his own body slowly accustomed to the pain and the way it had to move to not cause an intolerable amount of it.
He carefully put Aurora down first and then got his bearings, after which he lifted her up. Thankfully, her near-hollow bones made the seraphim overly light and he had not that much trouble carrying her. It was hard and painful work still in his state, but at least it was possible.
She had fallen unconscious, but appeared otherwise thoroughly unharmed.
On the second realization, he let out a sigh of relief.
His oath was still in place.
“Save your breath for your trial, terrorist! The High Court of Selenya will hear your words and assign them merit.”
“Try me,” Arakiel shot back and then was about to walk away when he noticed a white-red shard on the ground, its edges jagged and crystalline. Not a trace of gold remained, but he quickly knelt down and picked it up, putting it back into Aurora’s hands. It might be the key to unraveling what exactly had happened.
Then, he slowly walked away, further into the Transcended’s very own domain in Kalanaar.
The two Selenyeans ordered him to stop but when he didn’t, they merely insulted him and then hurried past and away in the same direction as him – but they not could not touch him here.
Nonetheless, worry grew in Arakiel. If the Council had truly made that ruling, then he was done for. No one could save him then, not even his mother.
First things, first: keep calm and be careful.
The momentary breach that had been torn into the city soon mended and people began to go about their business again – they had most likely never stopped inside the area surrounding the Gate of Divinity. Only exceedingly wealthy individuals or people in service or possession of the Transcended’s church lived here and the god-in-grey’s servants among the planes knew how to project their power – none questioned them, none.
Not even the immortals were stupid enough to fight directly against the Transcended. Instead, they sought mortal servants onto which they could latch and through this, they could walk the planes, twisting the Transcended’s vision of a world free of immortal tyranny.
None of that mattered right now, though – what mattered was that he found out whether he had been handed over to Selenya or not.
Most people here wore plain grey robes, mundane servants of the Transcended that kept the day-to-day operations running. Only occasionally did Arakiel spot a person wearing thoroughly black robes with stripes of grey on them. The more stripes one’s attire had, the higher the person had risen through the church’s ranks.
Thirteen was said to the highest and even Asios, a so-called Hand of the God-In-Grey, only had eleven stripes, while those that performed the Transcended’s service were usually in the three to six range. Arakiel had once assumed it related to their power or time of serving, but none knew exactly and the priestesses and priests were exceedingly tight-lipped about it. Some had tried to infiltrate the church with family members, only for those members to turn their backs as soon as they were initiated.
Once more, Arakiel realized that he had distracted himself to not confront the issue that might truly upturn his life even more.
The basilica was much closer than the Bejeweled Council, and the closer Arakiel got to the grand circle that surrounded it, the more people he met even if they usually only spared him and Aurora a passing glance. Servants of the Transcended were immune to outside influence of any kind and the planeswalkers that did frequent here were potent enough to have collected their own collections, no matter how exotic.
If Aurora had been presented better, she would surely draw gazes – but a winged golden-haired girl was notable, but not enough to waste one’s time when one had purpose.
Only people with purpose came here and most citizens didn’t leave their respective districts. It wasn’t forbidden or anything, it was a matter of pride.
Noon had come and gone and the sun was burning hot and if there was one positive thing about the singed rags on his skin, it was that the many holes gave his agitated skin some extra cooling. It did little to stop the sweat, though – or the thoughts.
Many of those who walked here did not have these problems despite their clothes being elaborate, strict or downright scandalous. Their bodies had long since accustomed to the planes’ many different climates and rising through the levels of the Class System made one ‘better’, no matter the class. Arakiel, when he had still been a Traveler, rarely felt discomfort no matter the weather. It was just another indicator that he had truly fallen from grace in the Class System.
By the time he was about to arrive at the Threshold as some liked to call the square right in front of the Gate of Divinity which lay right inside this basilica, Arakiel had met two planeswalker parties that he didn’t recognize. One proclaimed allegiance to the House of Diamond, the other none at all. Rare, but possible. Not everyone liked to proclaim their allegiance to any and all strangers.
He noticed a difference as soon as the pavement beneath turned grey and from one moment to another, the air that had been faintly glowing suddenly held a heavy golden tinge, making the sky above change its color from blue to gold. All outside sounds faded at the same time, for one was meant to contemplate the divine in silence.
Before him, a large rectangular square stretched out, its centerpiece the large, monolithic stele of thoroughly smooth black stone that stretched roughly ten to twelve meters towards the sky. The Pillar of Night, some called it – but none knew its purpose. It had been here even in the Old Order, but his parents had never mentioned it. Either, they thought it unworthy of their attention, or it held some grand secret. Arakiel presumed the latter.
Around the pillar, there was nothing else, for there was no need for anything further. The surface consisted of large, grey slabs of a smooth, unknown stone. No mortar of any kind had been put in the thin crevices.
This humble yet majestic appearance, alongside the air and the basilica’s massive appearance was enough to convey the message that the god-in-grey had bestowed the gift of gold upon mortalkind.
Arakiel was taken aback, as he always was whenever he came here. The Bejeweled Council tried to impress with grandeur and luxury – the Transcended had no need for such frivolities. His power was absolute. It awed Arakiel, had awed him when he was younger and it’d do so when he grew older – of this, he had no doubt.
And there, behind the thirteen twisted columns of grey in an apse all by itself, lay the Gateway of Divinity, the place where those at the apex of the Class System went in order to undergo some sort of trial – and upon passing, they would be granted a spark of divinity and through it, achieve the status of demigod.
Arakiel chuckled bitterly and silently for he was supposed to have become that – become a demigod. Now he might become a hunted outcast instead.
There weren’t many people here and those who were had knelt down at random spots across the square in order to pray.
He briefly wondered whether he should enter the basilica just to catch a glimpse of the gate. It had helped him calm down in the past whenever he had wondered if he did the right thing, had chosen the right path.
With a silent sigh, he shook his head. That time was gone and away – he would need to face the world anew alongside Aurora.
And right now, that meant finding someone who could give him some information about this supposed verdict by the Bejeweled Council.
As long as he didn’t know for certain, he could not leave this district for even if he was to be handed over to Selenya, none could not touch him here, not even the enforcers of Kalanaar. He might still have a chance to go somewhere, somehow.
He strode across the Threshold with reverence, aiming for the north. Just one block further lay the palace from which the Heptarchy ruled Kalanaar and he’d surely find someone there that could tell him more.
As soon as he left the gate’s proximity, the sky became blue once more and the faint sound of people doing things in the distance returned while a soft smell of roses lingered about. Above him, dozens upon dozens of fliers silently mocked those stuck at the ground with their unrivaled freedom and mobility.
Somewhere, far in the distance, he heard something loud and heavy. Someone was probably building or reshaping something. These things happened often in…
His train of thoughts broke as an entire procession of people in silver mail turned around the corner, each one dressed in Selenyean colors, wearing all sorts of silver weapons, be it for mundane or magical warfare. Some at the edges of the formation wore massive roughly triangular-shaped shields of silver, though.
Members of the Moonguard, Selenyean’s elite imperial guard – which would explain why he hadn’t heard them despite their heavy armor. Silent Guardians was another of their names – he now understood why.
In the middle of all the silver armor and cloaks, he saw snippets of white feathers and in the front, two people marched straight at him.
He briefly considered evading them, but he decided to face the Selenyeans head on. There was nothing they could do here and this way, he might be able to glean some information.
Nonetheless, he pressed Aurora just a little closer even if he couldn’t decide internally whether out of fear or of something else. Her being close to him gave him comfort, somehow. Eased him, calmed him.
It didn’t take long for the two people in the front to point at him and when they came closer, he thought to recognize the two Evokers whom he had just barely escaped earlier.
At the same time, some of his earlier courage wavered just a bit given how many Selenyeans there were actually. It had to be more than twenty, perhaps even thirty – a massive expenditure on Selenya’s part.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
None could oppose the god-in-grey, none. Arakiel had to remind himself several times to calm himself down for good. Those people that were but a stone’s throw away were at the very apex. It was rumored that every single member of the Moonguard was level 20, albeit without a spark of divinity. They’d need no divinity to to kill him before he even realized it, however.
Nonetheless, the Transcended’s authority was absolute.
He stopped a short distance away from the silver procession while they began to fan out, revealing two familiar faces and one that he did not recognize on the ‘inside’.
Selene ast Rhea had put on a thoroughly silver dress with lots of lace and a high neckline that outlined her fairly girlish proportions, yet the way she moved was true eye-candy nonetheless, even if it was obvious that the dress didn’t fit her fully. The backside was lifted a bit, as though her wings were raising it involuntarily. Her education had most certainly included lessons of etiquette and proper court behavior, especially as she was considered a pure marriage candidate, valued only for her ancestry and fertility. Arakiel recalled the memo about her stating that the girl had never taken any combat lessons, ever.
Curiously enough. her argent’s silver collar was still in place, remnants of it sneaking out from beneath a white-silver ribbon that someone had tied around it in order to cover it up.
No matter the angle Arakiel looked at it, it spoke of Ezekiel’s skill. An argent’s vow was more one-sided, but it still meant that Selene had submitted to Ezekiel in front of a priest of the Transcended. As long as Ezekiel was still alive, it’d be exceedingly expensive to remove the physical representation of their relation, not that Arkiel doubted that the Selenyean imperial family could afford to pay for it.
To his surprise, that very same Ezekiel walked right next to her, his wrists shackled together in the front with heavy steel manacles. He only wore a loose, wide grey robe that hid most of his body, but his face showed quite a few bruises. The man’s overall expression was relatively calm for someone who would most likely be sentenced to death. But then again, Ezekiel had always been a rather calm or perhaps indifferent man, or at least that’s the impression Arakiel had gotten from him whenever they were working together. That had only happened half a dozen times and to say they didn’t mix well together would be quite the understatement. Nonetheless, both had taken a new name to show their commitment to Shemyaza’s ludicrous plan back then. Yesterday, Arakiel would’ve claimed that he regretted it… he wondered if Ezekiel thought the same today or if he had some kind of revelation as well.
What had happened earlier was… notable, very much so. This power Arakiel had gotten from his union with Aurora, it merited research.
The third face belonged to what Arakiel presumed to be an imperial handmaiden. A pretty, blonde girl in white that carried a small bag in the front and although she masked it well, Arakiel saw her stealing glances at Ezekiel, some full of hate, others of a slightly different kind. Nonetheless, Ezekiel’s presence alongside the two young women was more than unusual to say the least.
Selene ast Rhea looked surprised when she spotted him, her pretty face gaining a frown while Ezekiel’s amethyst-colored eyes stared right at him, his lips forming to a thin smile.
“Arakiel, old friend!” Ezekiel proclaimed loudly and proudly. Any positive thoughts that Arakiel might’ve had vanished in an instant, a strong desire to strangle him taking its place. “How nice of you to seek us out… after you hanged me out to dry!”
While the accusation wasn’t entirely wrong, Arakiel did not feel obligated to respond.
Meanwhile, Selene ast Rhea seemingly thought about something for a brief moment, and then she pointed straight at Arakiel, exclaming in an outraged manner. “I remember! This is the man that defiled me! Seize him at once!”
Ezekiel turned to the side, flabbergasted.
Arakiel looked at her, dumbfounded.
The handmaiden and several of the other Selenyeans, however, stared right at him. He could only see the handmaiden’s expression, who seemed slightly confused at first as well. But then her glare turned piercing and he had no doubt that she hurled imaginary greatswords at him.
“What kind of nonsense is this!?” Arakiel said aloud while his partner-in-crime Ezekiel phrased it slightly different, yet both answers happened around the same time. “Kinda nonsense are you on about, Selene!?”
“Moonguard, form ranks!” One of the heavily armored Selenyeans exclaimed behind the imperial princess and before Arakiel could react in time, they had formed a tight-knit circle around him, one that came ever closer.
And then it clicked – and he cursed himself for being an absolute moron. The soldiers might not be able to touch him, but they could block his movement… and there was only one rule that could make them step aside.
“I wish to visit the Temple of the Transcended!” Arakiel exclaimed right away at no one in particular, sensing the trap that was about to ensnare him.
Without giving anyone else the time of day, he turned around but the soldiers were faster, which caused him to panic. They formed a wall of mail, plate and weapons on either side – an artificial passage that only led towards the basilica while leaving him no place to turn to.
Behind him, he heard the handmaiden whisper towards the imperial princess. “But your highness… you claimed that this ruffian over there did the deed?”
This caused Ezekiel to say rather loudly. “I did make her a woman and I haven’t left her side since!”
Selene’s response was quiet and abashed. “You… don’t say such things in public!”
“No, Selene. I cannot…” was the last bit of discussion that Arakiel heard as he rapidly made his way towards the sole temple of the Transcended and at some point, he began to dash as fear took increasing hold of him.
Alas, the Selenyean soldiers were faster despite their armor, leaving him no path to either side.
Just like that, they had cornered him like prey in a dead end, leading him to a place from which he would truly be trapped.
Arakiel cursed internally and briefly tried to taunt the soldiers, but their discipline made them impervious to such cheap tactics.
Once, he tried to suddenly turn around in hopes of throwing them off, but since he had no strength to jump over them, any attempt to make his way past them could be considered an act of aggression and he dared not find out. One did not test the Transcended’s rules, unless one had a death wish, although death was probably the most desirable outcome in that situation.
The Selenyean move was a surprisingly brutish and it should’ve never worked, but it did because he was just too weak right now.
And then he suddenly stopped, pressing Aurora just a little bit tighter against him while trying to calm down.
Quiet, calm, careful. Rationale only.
By now, they had entered the imminent surroundings of the Gate of Divinity, with the air once again having turned to a heavy golden tinge while everything else fell silent. The Selenyean soldiers around him formed a silent wall of silver and given the brazenness with which they cornered him, he had to assume that the two Evokers earlier had spoken true.
More importantly, Selene had just casually accused him which had definitely ruffled the Selenyean’s feathers, but Ezekiel’s familiarity had not caused an immediate reaction.
Maybe he was jumping to conclusions here, but it was definitely possible that Selene ast Rhea had told the Bejeweled Council about the ritual after she and Ezekiel got caught, which would be disastrous.
The four-winged seraphim were immortals of legend and more importantly, were some of few immortals that stood beside the mortals against the tyranny of the Old Order, even if Arakiel himself had his doubts about that.
Either way, they were generally regarded as positive and when it became known that… this wasn’t good at all, not in the slightest. Kalanaar and Impyrea might have his back, but the other pro-immortal cities would have reason to seek him out, hunt him down and reclaim what was his.
He could only hope that Selene had claimed nothing of the sort and…
As he pondered on the subjects, the Selenyean soldiers tightened the circle around him, silently threatening him, but he crossed them from his mind to reflect further.
It must look ridiculous to bystanders, not that he particularly cared right now.
He had been accused in being implicated in Selene’s rape and anti-immortal terrorist activity. Both weren’t exactly wrong, but neither would hold up to court, at least in a Kalanite setting. Selene was Ezekiel’s argent, he could sleep with her whenever he wanted and although Arakiel had a hand in her abduction, it was a relatively minor one all things considered. Anti-immortal activities weren’t exactly forbidden in Kalanaar, so that also couldn’t be the sole reason.
So something else must’ve happened that caused the council to condemn him, but he just lacked information. Maybe a political intrigue he wasn’t aware of? That seemed unlikely. Why would it target him? He was a nobody in the grand or even intermediate scheme of things.
Either way, the Selenyeans acted with such impunity that he had to assume they spoke the truth. Otherwise, the diplomatic fallout would be disastrous to say the least, given that despite his thin fame, he was still a child of the Lady and Lord-Consort Alexandrite, two of the founding demigods of Kalanaar.
None of this brought him any closer to the truth, though – and the longer he stood here, the more likely he was to collapse on the spot which would be rather terrible as one was not allowed to linger about in the district. Loiterers or vagrants were expelled by the Transcended’s enfocers, the Monochromes or Watchers-In-Grey.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t allowed to speak on the Threshold which made his options very, very limited. He shouldn’t have panicked earlier, but here he was.
It seemed that the path leading into the Gateway of Divinity was the only one forward, for now.
Maybe a glimpse onto the venerable structure would spark something in him.
Taking heart, Arakiel walked the passage that the Selenyean soldiers laid out for him, leading right to one of three imposing entrances into the basilica.
He had to climb a total of twenty steps, each one representing one level, in order to reach the thick oaken door which had a permanent grey array written onto it right beneath the arch. As far as he knew, this enchantment scanned every single person that stepped through and if the person was legally unfit and not attended by their guardian, they would be repelled.
Right before he entered, Arakiel looked around and saw that Ezekiel and Selene were following him, were being led towards him and Ezekiel still did not look like a man who was about to enter the lion’s den.
Did he have a plan? There was only one way to find out.
Either way, the Selenyeans had caused quite a bit of a stirrup as quite a few onlookers were watching with interest.
It mattered not.
Arakiel put this foot against the door and pushed it open. He saw how the soldiers headed over towards the other entrances in order to block him if he tried to leave.
If they kept this up, they’d make a ton of enemies for as far as Arakiel knew, they could just block the exit as the tenant only had people reach the temple of the Transcended, not leave it.
As the heavy door opened without a sound, he was greeted by a faint and cool gust of air that brushed past him. He entered and found himself in a small, empty antechamber lit by faint golden crystals. It was always pleasantly warm inside here, no matter the weather outside.
He could try to rush for one of the two exists, but he doubted that he was faster than the moonguards.
No, his imminent future would be decided right here, soon.
Arakiel began to feel Aurora’s weight and now and then, one of the bruises or scratches on his skin began to itch and he’d love to sit down for just a while.
Behind him, he saw only three members of the Moonguard follow. Two more than he had thought to be honest.
In a way, their behavior puzzled him. They thought him to be a Traveler, did they not?
If that were still the case, he could’ve just paid for a small portal to any plane and then jumped back sometime later, but maybe he was missing something.
Shoving such thoughts aside for now, Arakiel approached the sole gate that lead into the basilica proper and thankfully, this one opened by itself as it was a truly massive gate, undoubtedly reaching eight meters or so while being about ten centimeters thick, made from the same grey stone as the Threshold outside. A relief had been carved into it, depicting an excerpt of Kalanaar’s bloody but victorious fight against the immortals of old.
Inside, he entered the most spacious building in existence, undoubtedly. The rib vault ceiling was so high up that he wondered why it had been built this way, but the most simple answer probably related to awe and grandeur – that’s what Arakiel felt at the sight.
The high ceiling, the large windows and the massive whitish lighting crystals in the circular connections of the ribs, paired with the plain grey walls and the fifty-four massive columns that kept the building stabilized – all of it inspired awe.
There were benches on the edges, but the central aisle had been kept entirely free to enable an unmarred sight at the apse which held a large, utterly grey construction in the shape of an oversized pointy arch that rested atop a plinth, only reachable by climbing twenty more steps. Each step would test the aspirant and only if one managed to climb all steps, they’d be able to take the trial in the first place.
It looked so mundane, yet the way it was presented so humbly truly heightened the Gateway of Divinity’s value in Arakiel’s mind. True grandeur lay in simplicity, although that did only partially apply to girls and women especially.
The thought must’ve crossed his mind because of Aurora, who was perfect in this regard for his taste. Granted, he had raised her like this.
The usual business of a temple of the god-in-grey was done in the other two aisles and Arakiel even saw a few people quietly speaking to priests of the Transcended.
He himself sat down on the first bench that came into view however, where he then put down Aurora with the utmost care.
She was sleeping softly and he’d rather not wake her now.
Then, he sat down and felt relief, his strained, aching muscles finally having earned some time to rest.
The three members of the Moonguard kept close, but never said anything.
He closed his eyes and briefly caught his breath, seeking inner tranquility.
It didn’t last long when steps approached and someone spoke up, addressing Arakiel. He recognized the voice right away.
“Can I sit down here?”
“You cannot. There are dozens of other opportunities to sit down,” Arakiel returned quietly to which Ezekiel replied a tad too loudly. “Thanks, Arakiel. I always knew you were a good lad.”
“Hush, she’s sleeping.”
“Snuggling up to you like a babe, too. As I said, your taste in women is good.” Ezekiel commented in a quiet, calm tone at which point Arakiel opened his eyes.
Selene ast Rhea stood in some distance, watching them – or Ezekiel to be more precise – with an odd gaze. She seemed conflicted but also… aroused? She was certainly blushing. The handmaiden next to her didn’t notice her mistress’s misconduct. She seemed thoroughly taken in by the basilica, which Arakiel could relate to.
“Yours seems debatable, given what just transpired.” Arakiel found himself saying.
Ezekiel suddenly leaned in close, whispering. “This thing about you, Arakiel – it’s true. I only heard snippets, but you’re in deep trouble.”
“Partially in thanks to you I assume?”
“I may or may not have said some things in order to save my sorry hide.” Ezekiel evaded and confirmed at the same time, sounding not sorry at all. Granted, Arakiel might’ve done the same if it concerned Ezekiel.
“Can’t say I blame you but I do blame you.”
“What happened, by the way. You look awful, even more than usual.” Ezekiel queried and Arakiel kind of wondered what the man was playing it. Nonetheless, he found himself replying.
“The hounds you set on me were more bite than bark.”
Meanwhile, the Moonguard kept watching them, saying nothing. They probably had masks beneath their hoods as well. It’d be impossible to try and interpret their reactions.
“Wasn’t me, though. Or Selene, for that matter. They had some woman do spooky astral things with her.” Ezekiel said further and then asked in a louder voice. “So, gonna escape to another plane?”
“What’s it to you?” Arakiel responded, finding it harder to speak with every word. The damage he had suffered from that shardtapped spell might be worse than he thought.
Just how, he had tasted blood.
“Just wondering what my own partner-in-crime is up to, you know?”
“Sod off, Ezekiel. I think you’ve done enough for me at this point.” Arakiel answered, feeling very fatigued. Maybe sitting down hadn’t been the best decision, and so he got up with an exerted groan.
“You sound like an old man,” Ezekiel taunted quietly, chuckling.
Arakiel was starting to get very irritated. “Got anything useful to say or will you spout venom till the Selenyeans execute you!?” He spat out and turned around.
Ezekiel, whose body was in the shadow now that Arakiel stood right in front of him, narrowed his amethyst eyes and smiled a wide smile at him.
One blink, and Ezekiel once again looked like a dumb, albeit somewhat good-looking, fool.
Nonetheless, Arakiel had recognized that grin, that face. His ‘partner-in-crime’ had a plan and even though it pained him to admit it, Ezekiel sometimes acted street-smart and above all, daring. Someone who lacked a sense of self-preservation took risks any sensible person would not.
In this moment, Arakiel felt kind of intrigued and he showed him a little, wry smile as a way to affirm.
Oddly enough, he didn’t need to think about ‘the plan’ for long, because there was only one plan, and Ezekiel had actually laid it out already.
He needed to escape to another plane for now – if only to rest and recoup.
But one thing bothered him still – so far, he hadn’t received any message from House Alexandrite… and they should be able to locate him if he was still in Kalanaar.
Right in that moment, a new set of soft footsteps approached from behind and a young female voice that Arakiel did not recognize addressed him in a clear manner, saying.
“Arakiel il Kalanaar? A word, please?”