Thanks for reading my humble fanfic! For some reason it's not letting me separate viewpoints so I must put the names at the top. This is set in the middle of archangel's legion and will continue until afterwards. Oh and I own none of the characters! Hope you enjoy!

ILLIUM

Illium looked down as bitter winds rolled in from the Hudson sweeping the fringe of his blue-black hair into his eyes to obscure his view of the left side of archangel tower as he flew towards it. He paused in midair to swipe back his hair with his left hand just in time to see a half-dozen set of wings he'd never seen before disappear into the glass fixture housing the elevator at the top of the tower. Great. His beautiful golden eyes narrowed. New recruits. Illium hated new recruits. There was nothing worse then trying to bring angelic youth up to scratch on their technical fighting skills. Particularly those angels that came from any other region ruled by any other archangel. He couldn't discern particularly where these new angels came from, but he could guess. Illium rarely had to deal with these types of issues. It was mostly a job held by Dmitri, who was adamant on assessing those that wished to enter the tower, or Galen who trained them. However, with the looming Cascade and the threat of 'batshit' Lijuan the tower needed all the help it could get. Illium grinned at the thought of 'batshit' Lijuan, a term Ellie had affectionately coined for the mad archangel of China. Illium thanked his lucky stars that he rarely had to deal with any and all new angels. Yet, he knew deep down in his gut that these new angels would be his to deal with. Knew it because Dmitri was currently helping his wife with her transition into a vampire and Aodhan was currently filling in for Dmitri. It was a role that was new to him, Aodhan did his best and was efficient, but he was no Dmitri, a vampire who had held this city with Raphael for hundreds of years. Thus, with the tower short functioning under a new director and the seven being short handed, Illium was about to be drenched with the ice cold reality of a job that did not belong to him.

Well, might as well go welcome them. Illium thought to himself as he dropped his wings dipping to a lower altitude to reach the top of the tower platform.

"Sire," Illium said smoothly as he walked into Raphael's vast office exactly five minutes later. The archangel of New York didn't look up from the papers he peered at on his desk, but replied in the same silky tone, "Illium."

"Where is your Consort?"

"She is hunting with Venom."

"Ah," Illium waited. Raphael's face was as hard and unyielding as the black granite of his desk as he took his time reading; he hurried for no one. Except, perhaps, for Elena.

"We have a squadron of new angels from Titus." Raphael finally looked up. His blue eyes locked with Illium's gold ones. "It appears Titus has also sent us Astaad's daughter. She was spending time in Titus' court."

Illium raised one of his eyebrows curiously. "Astaad's daughter? I thought he only had a son."

"No," Raphael frowned and lines marred the skin between his eyes. "She is very young. Barely out of the refuge."

"What could be the meaning of this exchange? Does Titus wish to rid himself of her so that if her blood is shed on our lands it is a reason for Astaad to declare war on us and ally himself with Lijuan?" Illium contemplated openly as he looked out the large windows in Raphael's office. He tracked the path of a grey winged angel as he became smaller and smaller, until the angel was only a dot on the horizon.

"No," Raphael repeated again. "From what I can glean she was at Titus' court to educate herself in the customs of other regions. Astaad has fitted her with a vampire guard that she has brought with her. For all intents and purposes it seems Titus was a little bit too overjoyed to be rid of her after Astaad assented to her being transferred here." The left side of Raphael's mouth quirked up as he delivered the next bit of exciting news. "And you will be in charge of assessing her technique before assigning her accordingly. As well as the rest of the new transfers that await you in the basements."

Illium sighed for the second time that day and closed his eyes. He did not have babysitter stamped across his head, nor did he have time to get that particular tattoo, but he knew this was coming. The refuge was the place for silly, immature angels. Not the tower and definitely not on Illium's watch.

"Sire," Illium said signaling the end of the conversation and walked out of Raphael's office to the elevators. He waited for the machine impatiently before the doors opened and he walked in. The descent of the elevator wasn't achingly slow, but Illium was restless for some reason this day as he studied his reflection against the metal doors. An awareness was prickling at him that had the silver and blue winged angel on edge. Although, why he wasn't certain. What he was certain about was that he absolutely hated this elevator. Illium was not an angel that liked to be caged. He wished to be in the sky at all times. It gave him a sense of freedom as nothing else could and that freedom set his soul on fire. Or at least it would help with the unrelenting prickling running up and down his spine.

When the doors finally opened agonizingly slow, Illium stepped out with his arms crossed over his chest into the training facility that was housed in the basements of the tower. The training facility looked like any modern mortal gym, except it encompassed roughly three floors below the base of the building. It's walls were an uninteresting beige and lined up against them were any and all types of weapons imaginable. Even those that mortals had long forgotten existed. There were also small circles that acted as arenas for hand-to-hand combat, more for vampires really, and of course, new angels. Every angelic faced turned to face Illium as they became aware of his presence, their next words of a conversation dying in their throats.

"Welcome," Illium paused for effect. "To the tower." His eyes scanned the faces in front of him. He couldn't particularly pick out any one girl that looked like Astaad and there were only a handful of them to begin with. Perhaps she was the tall girl with her face a mask of grim determination, the shade of her hair matching the bronze color of her wings. "We are going to have a short assessment of your technical skills and then I will send you to a squadron according to your level of skill."

Silence. Well at least they were appropriately scared of him, as they should be. Illium gave them a menacing grin just in case though. "So, who wants to go first?"

VIV

Viv was late. Shit she was late. And worse? She didn't know where to go. Why did this goddamn tower have so many floors? Titus' mountain was a labyrinth, sure, but it wasn't this annoying to traverse. The elevator dinged again as the metal doors slid open for the 28th time. "You're up again." Viv said stepping in front of the doors once more so they wouldn't close.

"You would think," Viv's companion said aloud as she stepped past Viv out the elevator doors to explore another floor, "that you would learn by now to be on time." Lovely dark eyes that were filled with annoyance turned back to stare at Viv.

"I fail to see how it's my fault that I have to fly from archangel's enclave instead of staying here, as every other recruit does." Viv retorted and waived her companion on to encourage her to hurry. She did so with lightening fast speed her deep auburn hair making her almost a blur of red as she disappeared from sight. Viv had to give it to her, the vampire had speed. A talent she'd been trying to ingrain in Viv.

"Anything?" Viv asked when the vampire walked back into the elevator once more.

"It's in the basement." Isla stated and jabbed her hand on a button as Viv stepped away from the doors. A pause. "You know that was one of your father's conditions that you stay at his house in archangel's enclave." Isla said during their quiet descent downwards.

Viv could barely contain her desire to roll her eyes. As if her father gave more than a passing thought as to what ever happened to Viv. She was the "heir spare". The only thing Astaad cared about was if Viv was upholding his reputation, for "she was a reflection of him." Her father's deep voice echoed in her head. Viv chose to ignore Isla's latter comment and question the former. "How did you know it was in the basement?"

"I finally found someone to ask." They fell silent once more as the elevator halted in it's descent.

Viv's eyes met Isla's in the reflection of the metal doors in the moments between the elevator stopping and the doors opening.

Ready? Isla's voice asked quietly in Viv's head. She only nodded and smiled.

The next moment Viv's gaze was filled with beautiful silver and blue tipped wings. They almost took her breath away because they so closely resembled the clear blue water of her homeland. A pang filled her gut and she tried quickly to tamp down the creeping feeling of homesickness.

Viv was so mesmerized in that moment, completely lost in a world far, far away from here, that she didn't prepare herself for the face that swiveled to look in her direction. Viv's pupil's dilated slightly as they alighted on the face of… well, an angel.

That face. It was indescribable, was a work of art that no artist could ever capture, because the hues and angles were something that would make every painter and sculptor weep before they could accurately replicate it's image. Beautiful golden eyes were framed by thick dark lashes and they stared back at her in total, total disinterest. With a face like that staring at you, could anyone really blame her that she didn't catch his question the first time?

Or the second.

Isla cleared her throat.

"Recruit?" the blue-winged angel repeated calmly once more.

"Ahhhh, yes!" Viv finally jerked to life brightly. "Yes, sorry, we were lost." Viv idiotically pointed between herself and Isla indicating the "we" she was referring to. As if he couldn't have guessed. Really, Viv?

The golden eyes moved from Viv to Isla anyway. "Well, in that case, it seems you've both volunteered yourselves to go first."

"What's that now?" Viv asked once again distracted when Illium blinked. His lids momentarily hid those enchanting eyes before opening again and shocking her anew once more. Damnit! She knew exactly who this was. Had seen him from a distance before at the refuge when she was younger and had certainly seen pictures of him given to her by her father's generals. She shouldn't be this shocked right now, but as so many before her had probably figured out, distance and photos did not do him justice.

"You've just volunteered yourself to be assessed first." Illium gave her a wicked, wicked grin. Or maybe it was just a regular grin, but damn it looked wicked on his face. He finally turned to allow her and Isla to enter what appeared to be a ring right in front of the rest of the transfer's from Titus' court. Ugh, great. More fighting. Viv pursed her lips as Isla placed a hand on her back to thrust her forward closer in the circle. "Go along," the traitor said a little too merrily. Isla, it seemed, was getting her revenge for having to explore 28 floors of this stupid building. No matter. It seemed in the immortal world one could not gain any respect without learning to fight. And Viv had learned how to fight. She walked, or was pushed rather, into the ring to face Illium just as he tossed her a knife she didn't know he carried. Where had he gotten that from? Viv didn't allow her curiosity to distract her and caught the small, sharp blade with ease.

Illium's eyes seem to brighten a little more… in hope?

"I suppose I should have the name of my first volunteer before we begin." Illium flicked his own blade in between his fingers in an overtly casual gesture, not meeting her eyes.

A distraction. He clearly thought her an idiot. She had long ago stopped getting caught up in any showy moves meant to alter her focus from the fight. No, her focus was as sharp as the blade in her left hand, but she did answer as she slid down into a fighting stance. "Havvivah."

ILLIUM

This was Astaad's daughter. Not because she looked anything at all like the archangel of the Pacific Islands, but because he could sense a burgeoning power there, no matter how miniscule it appeared to be. Her skin was an olive complexion, just shy of being sun-kissed. The shade complemented her eyes, which were flecked with too much green and gold to ever truly be called brown. The only few give aways that shattered her almost-Mediterranean type illusion was the blonde waterfall of hair that was filled with a multitude of colors that ranged from a burnished gold to a pale ash blonde and of course, her face. It was too angular and bespoke of other parts of the world that were much colder than Astaad's region. However striking her features were though, it was nothing in comparison to her wings, which had Illium not trained his emotions so thoroughly these past 500 years, he may have given away his shock. The tops of them were gold with filaments of white in the feathers, which in itself would have been lovely, but what set them off was the small splashes of royal blue littering the wings as if a painter had carelessly thrown paint against them. Those strange colors should have made an odd combination, but the truth was, it worked. It made her look so regal and that was how Illium knew this was a princess. Princess Havvivah it seemed.

He was surprised. Surprised she could catch the knife he threw at her with such ease and such speed. He sensed that she was very young, but he wondered at just how young. Barely giving her a second to blink after sliding into her defensive crouch, Illium charged at her, but she seemed to anticipate that action. Havvivah spun out with such unbelievable speed for an angel her age that had Illium not stopped in time to jump out of the way she would have scored his left wing with the knife she held sideways in her left hand. She didn't pause to wait for Illium to launch into another attack, instead she gracefully danced closer to Illium to lunge at his heart. He parried the blow quickly realizing that letting his guard down slightly because this was a simple assessment was not the smartest idea. If she wanted to play dirty, well that was fine, because Illium could play dirtier.

In a flash Illium knocked the knife out her hand, but it didn't seem to dismay her in the least. Her face was a mask of cold focus as she swiped out under Illium to knock him over. Illium lithely jumped at the last second, which Havvivah had counted on because in a swirling flash she swiped again actually knocking Illium, who caught himself from falling by a simple pump of his magnificent wings.

Havvivah was much faster than Illium would have ever given her credit for. Had she been stronger, she could have knocked him over, should have, had she been anyone else. The fight continued as such and it wasn't just speed that Havvivah had. It was something more that he couldn't quite put his finger on, for she fought in a way that he hadn't seen someone fight in years. It was in that moment that Illium noticed her lips moving wordlessly as she bent down and a booted foot came up to greet him. Illium dodged and quickly grabbed the foot flinging her body to the mat. Havvivah landed on her stomach, hair askew, but those eyes that turned back to face him were determined as she heaved breaths in and out. The darkened and he knew that she had been taught to never surrender to fight to the death. So he gave her that. He didn't want to mar her pride, for fighting to the death was an honorable trait. And a foolish one.

Before she could move once more with that lethal speed, Illium stepped over her to grab a hold of her hair and place the blade he still held at the tip of her neck. Their faces stared at each other. He was mildly amused, she looked pissed, which in spite of himself Illium thought was rather cute.

"Wow," Illium and Havvivah turned sharply to look at the speaker. Illium straightened and removed the blade and his hand from Havvivah. The speaker, an angel with wings of dawn, stood near the elevator as if transfixed on the spot. No one had realized during the fight that Raphael's Consort had walked in.