Paul shook as the Power bent at the knees, preparing himself for a fight to come, and tightened his sweaty grip on the sword hilt as he too fell into position. Around them, the others gathered to watch the spectacle, and over the Power Chief's shoulder he saw the archangel and for a moment he thought that the Archangel would step in to stop the madness. But Michael merely stood there, hands folding behind his back, and watched them. It would be going against himself when he had given the right to punish the young squire for his wrongdoing.

Nisroc would not harm him too much but that did not mean he would go easy on him either. Perhaps it was a long time coming, it took a lot to push his Second in Command over the edge with his temper. But he was rather fond of their little warrior and anyone who harmed her or a friend of hers faced the wrath of the Powers tenfold.

She was their honorary member of course.

The Power waited patiently, making it clear he was not going to make the first move, and it left the young trainee to move forward first. He swung, trying to aim for the knees, and the swing was quickly parlayed by his opponent, the sword redirected, and the Power stepped to the side calmly as the younger angel stumbled forward, smacking him in the rear with the flat side of his sword. The youngling rubbed at his rear with one hand and fell back into position, this time the Power charged forward. He came at a quick pace, easily blocking the sloppy swing in his direction, and locked the hilts together to unarm the youngling facing him. Paul stumbled forward again, and this time he was smacked in the rear with the flat of his own sword, the weapon tossed back to him as was the manner.

It was embarrassing, being smacked in front of everyone; the other Powers and their Legions, the other trainees, the fledgling he had been tormenting for a while, but especially in front of the Archangel. His face burned a deep red as he spotted him watching the fray with attentive eyes.

"This is the best you can do?", the Chief Power calmly exclaimed as he returned fluidly to a resting position ready for the next supposed attack, "I can seen now why a fledgling half your age can defeat you."

It was a stinging remark, and it boiled a little deep in his belly at the thought that he wasn't good enough, he was better than some fledgling. And he glared at her from the corner of his eye. Titus was distracting her though, so she didn't see it, between him and the other two; Raguel and Haniel, she was thoroughly distracted by the proceedings. They whispered things to her, tossing the fledgling between the three of them, poking at her belly until she giggled again. It made a hot rage of jealousy flash through him. He hadn't been treated with such kindness as a fledgling, having grown up with a strict guardian who thought such things were weakness. And here she was getting such attentions, but only from the mighty Powers, but from what he'd seen and heard, from the archangel himself.

He jumped forward with a yell and just managed to catch the Chief Power's arm, slicing a thin line of blood on the skin, and he looked over at it in wonder. It was not like younglings, in his opinion, to hold such hatred in their hearts. Most were excitable and full of the youthful energy that came with them, and yet from this one all he'd ever seen was biting determination and anger, and it left him curious.

The next swing, from over the younglings head it came, was blocked with the sort of ease a Power had on the battlefield from how far they had come, and Paul stumbled again. The flat of the sword smacked his rear again but harder than the first two times and he gave a soft almost inaudible whine as he lost his sword and rubbed at his stinging behind. Nisroc dismissed the others with a quick wave if his hand and their dispersed quickly to get back to training once more, even the Archangel nodded and turned to return to his walking through the sparing partners.

The other Powers disappeared with the fledgling in tow.

And Nisroc held a handout to him to help him to his feet.

"You are a worthy opponent when you don't get too cocky. We will purge you if that cockiness, that I swear to you."

Paul took the surprisingly gentle hand of the Power and was pulled to his feet, the Chief quickly turned and tossed the sword back to the older youngling he had originally taken it from and the other was quick in jumping back into it once more, the swords clashing together with a spark, Sabrael would make a great Power someday because of his passion and heart. They were not just about fighting and being an almost unbeatable Legion all of their own.

The heart had to be strong and full too.

As was the reason that a fledgling had managed to wrap them all around her finger, he mused to himself.

Paul followed after him when he motioned for them to return to the benches, hopping up to sit on one as the Power Chief knelt in front of him and passed over a ladle full of cool water for him to drink. He took it gratefully and downed it in one go, chugging it in his thirst, and handed it back when he was through.

"You have determination that will get you far on your chosen path, youngling, but a rage burning in that belly of yours that will also be your downfall. You are young yet and to see such a rage is concerning.", the Power's voice wasn't as hard as it had been when he had issued the challenge, they were the toughest warriors Heaven had at it's disposal, but also the most gentlest of angels too.

"I saw the look you had spared the little warrior, I know the gleam that shone in your eyes.", Paul looked down in shame, such things were weakness, that is what had been beaten into him as a small fledgling under his guardians 'care', "Tell me, youngling, who was your guardian before?"

He licked his lips and Nisroc could see the conflicting emotions rolling through the youths eyes, as if wanting to say, but not be caught saying anything against the one who he had been given to for raising.

"Naomi."

The older angel hummed, patting him on the leg, "Well that explains the rage burning within you in one word.", he had been there when they had raided her workshop, right in the midst of rewriting (read: torturing) another angel. He had not seen much but what he had seen was no indication that she should have been allowed to raise anyone, let alone an impressionable fledgling. "Tell me, how was your fledglinghood?", he wasn't too far out of it, he had only been chosen in a little over a millennia ago, and had stood out in his classes and thus moved to something more advanced (before being demoted again of course), Paul looked up at him again, much too tired then was okay to see in a younglings eyes, he had been through a lot and it shone in him like light shone from the sun, even before the deepest parts of the war, "It hurt. She wasn't nice. I don't remember much. It's all really blurry and things are missing. I remember bits and then they change too fast to hold onto it. All I remember really is that it hurt. Unless I was the best. Then it didn't hurt too much."

It didn't surprise him that a fledgling raised under that monsters (and he didn't say that about many of his siblings) tutelage would be this worn as the youngling before him was. It explained much of his behavior, coming out on top for him wasn't an option, being last at anything meant more pain, and he could only imagine the things that dreaded angel had done to the impressionable angel before him.

"Being the best if fine. But hurting others to gain such success is not tolerable here. It would be best if you were to be you and not who others have molded you into being. Those you see are not here to harm you, not all of them, and they will treat you with care if you return the favor in kind."

Nisroc squeezed his knee tightly, feeling the leg under his touch twitch lightly at the feeling, and he held his hands out for the smaller angel to take. Paul's fingers curled around his as he helped him back to his feet, staying in the kneeling position as to be able to look into his eyes once more, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Come up with you. Count yourself lucky that our Archangel gave it to me to see to your punishment for your wrongs. He is known to strip misbehaving younglings who had soiled a second chance and switching them in his office.", Paul nodded balefully as he rubbed at his still smarting bottom, looking down to his feet in shame at such displays, he was better then that.

A few fingers brushed against his belly and he giggle softly despite himself, looking back up to see the might Chief Power smiling at him softly, and he poked him in the belly a few more times until the small youngling curled his arms around himself.

"I am sorry for the fledglinghood you faced. You did not deserve it. Under all that rage is a youngling who knows how to love and does so deeply. I have seen the way you stand in line for your friends."

The tingles in his belly were just beginning to fade when he was poked once more, fingers brushing over the uncovered spot above his waist and he giggled softly again.

"I cannot take away the pain you experienced at the hands of your previous guardian, despite how I wish I could, but I am your guardian now and I will show you how to learn to simmer that fire burning in that belly of yours to simmer down until it is needed. There is no need to look at the little warrior in such fashion, if you wanted some of the same attentions as she gets, all you must do is ask."

Let it not be said that the mighty Powers were not kind angels, they cared deeply for the Legions that followed under their command, and for the younglings that came to train under their tutelage; from the oldest of younglings to the newest and youngest.

"We will explore that soft giggle I hear later, that I can give you my word on, and we will find that side of you that I know you hide from the world. It is my duty as your guardian.", he stood, pushing him forward with a gentle hand on his shoulder, "But for now we return to training. Wait for me at days' end. I intend to follow through on my word. I do not give it with the intention not to."

"I'm sorry for hurting them."

"I know. I can see it in your eyes. You may act on that anger fed into you, but your eyes show everything, that is why they says they are the windows to the soul. Do not worry, they are forgiving angels, and we will work on extinguishing that rage burning hot."

As Paul returned to training under Puriel's soft commands and instruction, Nisroc standing slightly to the side to watch them, the one in particular that needed a bit more kind attention given to him, the archangel came to stand at his side. He watched them through their movements silently.

"Who was the boy's guardian?"

"Naomi."

Michael hummed, nodding his head twice, "That explains much of this behavior. It pains me to think of the horrors I'm sure he must have seen and faced while being raised. I trust you will show him that there is no need to be so tough?"

"I do intend to, Sir, he has the same reaction that the little warrior does when you pay her belly some attention to."

"Good. Show him that it is not weakness to soften ones heart."

"Of course, Sir."