Chapter 23: Baraquiel

Sion groaned. Her head pounded, as if it had been resting under a particularly heavy stone. There was chatter around her, but it quickly died away as someone said, "I qetë. Ajo po zgjohet." She struggled, but managed to open her eyes, only to be greeted by the sight of dark shadows looming over her. One of the shadows leaned closer, and said in a slow, stilted voice, "Hej. Si po ndihesh?"

Sion jumped up and scrambled away… or, she tried to- her head throbbed painfully, and her stomach churned as soon as she moved. As she collapsed onto her hands and knees, she heard another voice, cold and emotionless, say, "Bej kujdes. Nuk duhet të lëvizësh kaq shpejt."

Sion's gaze swept over the others- though blurred by pain, her eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness enough to make out that the shadows had been her traveling companions. But as she searched among them, she realized two of their number were missing. "What… happened? Where's Eibo?"

The others seemed… confused. One of them, a short girl with silver hair and clad in black armor said, "Zonja Claire, mendoj se magjia juaj ka pushuar së funksionuari."

Another, with pink hair pulled into two tails, replied in a harsh voice, "Çfarë do që unë të bëj? Të bëj përsëri magjinë? Mana ime nuk është rimbushur ende."

Another began to walk toward Sion. "Mirë, më lër të flas me të," she said. She remembered the name of this one, with her narrow eyes, red hair, and little clothes- "Raine," Eibo had once called her. She knelt down in front of Sion…

…but before she could say anything, one of the others called out, "Abel!" It was a blue-eyed girl, with golden hair who carried a spear- Eibo had called her "Lailah." But all at once, the golden haired girl tensed, reaching for her spear. "Kush eshte ai?"

A familiar voice answered, in words she finally understood, "It's Whitemane. Well, that's what he called himself while he was cursed. His real name's Neo." He approached- it was him. Even now, she found his image so striking- vibrant blue hair, and eyes a vibrant pink that seemed to shine in the darkness. His gaze turned toward Sion, and he smiled gently. "Hey. You're awake. How are you feeling?"

Several moments passed as Sion struggled to find the words to reply. Then, the memories came flooding back. The monster with multiple heads, the bomb, and how she'd gone back after it failed to explode. "The monster-!"

But a new voice cut her off, speaking words that, while unfamiliar, she still understood. "Eínai nekró. Chári se esás kai ton Abel" It is dead. Thanks to you and Abel. The voice was deep and rough- she always imagined that, were stones to speak, they would speak in a voice similar to it. And it was then that Sion turned her attention to Eibo's new companion.

It was a man- a human, like Eibo, but different. He was taller, with skin as dark as fresh soil, his hair bound into thick locks that hung from his head like white ropes. And yet, he was still so familiar- he wore the same clothes as Whitemane, he bore the same staff, his eyes were the same, he even smelled the same…

"White…mane?" she said, shakily, in the words the white gnoll had taught to her. "It is… you?"

The stranger turned toward Sion… and smiled. "Yes," he replied. "It is me. The curse laid upon my people by Selardi has been broken."

For several moments, she simply stared at Whitemane, unable to believe what she saw, as tears streamed down her face, leaving hot trails in their wake. Then, she threw herself at the older man, what words she had for him completely lost in her sobs.

Neo held Sion as she sobbed, silent. Abel and his companions didn't dare to interrupt either as several long moments passed. Finally, when Sion calmed down, Abel asked, "So, what will you do now?"

"Much was lost when this hydra came. And still more when Selardi cursed us," Neo answered. "But not all was lost. I wish to rebuild this city, sow new fields, make it into something greater than it was."

A glance at the surrounding landscape did not inspire much confidence that such a goal would ever be attained. But Abel didn't doubt for a moment that if anyone could return this land to its former glory, it would be Whitemane. Or, Neo. After all-

"Uh, Blue?" Raine then said. "You mind filling us in on what's going on?" The others seemed just as confused. Only then did Abel realize what was amiss- the spell Claire had cast to translate Sion and Neo's speech must have finally worn off, rendering them unable to understand their words.

…well, almost everyone. "He plans to rebuild his city," Minze said. "To make it into something grander than it was before the hydra's attack."

Raine glanced around at the desolate fields. "That's a pretty tall order for one guy."

Sion had finally let Neo go, and the older man turned his attention to Abel in full. "I cannot thank you enough for all that you have done," he said; in the background, Abel heard Minze translating Neo's words for the others. "I only regret that there is not more I can offer you in return."

Abel shook his head. "You gave me plenty by bringing me to that altar. But, what about you? Will you and Sion be okay here by yourselves?"

"I will not be alone," Neo answered, and gestured toward the horizon. "Now that they have been freed, I have little doubt that my people will return to Manaan. And I know that as much as it pains you, you cannot stay. Your goddess has need of you elsewhere. But before you depart…" Neo then laid a hand on Sion's shoulder. "Sion. Go with them."

Abel stammered. But Sion was equally as surprised. She pulled away from Neo's grip, and said firmly, "I stay. I help you."

Neo sighed, again putting a hand on Sion's shoulder. "You did help me, Sion. More than you could ever know. But this place… it is not your home. It is our fate to part- Lady Nane has foreseen it."

Tears began to flow down Sion's cheeks. "But… why?"

"Once, some moons ago, you told me you had a home. A family you were stolen from. That there were times when you wished to see them again. Has that changed? Do you truly wish to remain here, while those you left behind are condemned to forever wonder about your fate?"

Sion was quiet for a moment. "You said… we would go. Together."

Neo looked away, his expression pained. "…Yes. I did say that. But I cannot leave Manaan. Not now. Not while my city… while my people need me most."

A long silence fell between the two. But eventually, Sion broke it. Her shoulders slumped, and her face filled with sorrow. And in a pained voice, she finally replied, "I… will go."

Neo patted Sion's shoulder. "When everything is done, and my people are safe once more, I will come to see you," he promised. "It is not something Lady Nane has foreseen, but even so… I will find a way. Until then, remember the bonds that bind us together, and hold them dear. They shall remain strong no matter the distance, or time that separates us. Always." His attention then turned to Abel. "Abel… I realize I am already deeply in your debt. But I would ask one last thing of you."

Abel nodded, already knowing what he would ask. "Don't worry. We'll find Sion's family. And we'll bring her back to them."

"Thank you," Neo said, looking past Abel. "She deserves that much, at the very least."

"Hey, Miss Maid," Raine then said. "Tell Whitemane that there's a trader on our boat. She could help him rebuild. Or at least find Sion again once he's finished here."

Minze complied, relaying Raine's comment. But after a moment of thought, Neo simply smiled. "I'm afraid I must decline both offers. My people pride themselves on their independence. And as for finding Sion again... well, I will trust Lady Nane to guide me."

"Can't you at least come back with us to Ulara?" Abel asked. "To see Sion off?"

Again, Neo hesitated. But in the end, he nodded. "Very well. We have come this far. The least I can do is accompany you until the end of this journey."

The journey back to Ulara was much more precarious than the initial one to Manaan. Now that the hydra was dead, monsters had returned to the surrounding area- swiftly and in force- to carve out territories of their own, and none took kindly to the humans that dared to trespass through their newly-claimed dominions. The most alarming encounter the group had, however, was a small hunting party of gnolls. At first, Abel balked, and Neo despaired, believing that Artemis had lied about freeing the Taikhi. But once they were slain, and their bodies examined more closely, Neo found a number of oddities: the gnolls bore markings and wore garb unknown to the Taikhi, and a number had injuries that would have required months to heal, if not years- much longer than the six moons that he and his people had been cursed. With these observations in mind, Neo concluded the gnolls were not members of the Taikhi, but another tribe who had done something to incur Selardi's wrath.

Though trouble continued to pursue them throughout the rest of the trip back to Ulara, Abel and company pressed on- after all, the Mistral would only wait so long before setting sail back to Lohan, whether or not they were aboard when it departed. But though they were pressed for time, they could not afford to move recklessly; the dangers they faced in the day were only multiplied under the cover of darkness, forcing them to make camp once the sun set. But even then, the group could hardly afford to rest easy. The idle conversations from their earlier journey returned, as a means for the sentries to keep themselves awake and ready to confront whatever horrors ight come rushing in from beyond the light of their campfire.

And it was one of these idle conversations that Seth and Raine occupied themselves with one night. According to Neo, they were just two days from Ulara, and the news couldn't have come at a better time- the Mistral would set sail in three. But as tempting as it was to rush ahead, the older man urged caution now more than ever before. So, as before, they set up camp, and they waited out the night.

Abel sat near the fire's edge, watching the darkness for any signs of danger. As he did, Raine's voice floated over to him. "…Gotta admit, I'm kinda disappointed."

"About what?" Seth asked.

"Some part of me was expecting that Whitemane would actually be a woman under all that… uh, gnoll."

"Really? With a voice like that?"

Raine let out a small laugh. "Hey, in the neighborhood where I grew up, there was an old lady with a super deep voice. We all joked it was 'cause she ate rocks. Besides, it would have been par for the course for Blue. I mean, freeing a beastman from a curse only to find out that it's actually a beautiful woman?"

Seth let out a small, amused huff. "I guess Sion will have to suffice."

Silence settled, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Then, by the sound of someone moving across the camp. Abel turned, expecting either Raine or Seth, but instead, Violet had awakened, seating herself next to him. "Violet?" he began. "What are you doing? You still have a few hours before you have to take over the watch."

"I know," she replied. "But, I have found that I do not need to sleep as much as you do to feel rested." She looked toward him. "In any case, I have a question I would like to ask you, Master Abel."

He flinched, forgetting that she had started calling him master. But after a moment, he replied. "Alright. What is it?"

"I noticed that when you lay your hands on Alondight's altars, you enter a trance-like state, which persists for some time," the alchemist said. "What exactly do you see while in this state?"

It was a rather odd question, though Abel understood why Violet would ask it- before they met, magic and the gods likely had little impact on her daily life. Learning about something outside her area of expertise was natural enough. So he decided to answer her honestly.

He took a deep breath before speaking. "When I touch the altar, I go to Bacchus's domain. Then, I talk with her."

Violet tilted her head. "Is… that all? You speak with the goddess of wine? But your trance seems to last for quite some time…"

"Well, it's not just Bacchus. I also talk to the god that picked the altar I had to find. In Caral Marsh, I talked to Hermes. And here, I talked to Artemis."

"Wait," a voice then said. Raine's "Artemis? You talked to Artemis?"

Abel nodded. He looked at Raine, was shocked by his admission. Seth looked equally shocked, while Violet looked as confused as he felt. "What? Is there something strange about that?" he asked.

Raine tilted her head. "Well, yeah. She's Ilias's most loyal follower. Basically her personal attack dog. And if she was involved with what happened with Whitemane and his people, everything suddenly makes a lot more sense."

"What do you mean?" Abel asked.

Seth sighed. "You don't know much about the gods, do you Abel?"

He shook his head. "No. There were priests that visited my village, but the only god they talked about was the Chief God. Ilias."

"I see," Seth replied. "Well, there are a lot more gods than just Ilias. And of the gods, Artemis is both Ilias's most loyal subordinate, and the most wrathful. Normally, she despises mortals- she rarely has anything to do with them, and she doesn't treat her followers much better. The only times she involves herself with mortals is when they offend her in some way… or if Ilias is threatened."

Raine picked up where Seth left off. "Artemis being involved with Whitemane's curse makes sense- her favorite method of dealing with people that piss her off is to transform them into beastmen. And while we can't know for sure, that hydra showing up to guard the altar in the grove almost certainly wasn't just a coincidence."

"Just a moment," Violet then said. "Are you implying that Ilias is deliberately trying to have Master Abel killed?"

"I thought that the gods weren't allowed to interfere with a Champion's quest," Abel added. "At least, that's what Niel told me."

Raine shook his head. "Hah. The non-interference edict. You'd have a fair point… if Ilias actually obeyed it. And of course, when she does hinder a rival god's Champion, what she's doing it isn't actually 'interference;' it's 'maintaining the stability of the heavens,' or some other lame excuse."

"Another question," Violet then said. "You seem to insinuate that Artemis sent that hydra specifically to hinder Abel. But the Church has always claimed that monsters lie outside the Chief God's original designs for the world, and thus, beyond the ability of the gods to control. So, how could Artemis have sent a monster to attack Abel?"

Seth shifted her gaze to Raine. "Miss Promestein isn't wrong," she said. "Maybe you're reading too much into something that isn't actually there. Artemis cursing Whitem- er, Neo's people, and choosing an altar for Abel that happened to be by his tribe's city could just be a coincidence."

"You shouldn't believe everything the Church tells you…" the witch replied stonily. Silence fell, broken only by the crackling of the fire, and the chirping of insects. Abel turned away, looking out into the darkness, not to watch for danger, but rather to put his thoughts in order. Bacchus's reaction to Abel's battle against Guillaume, and now what he'd learned about Ilias and Artemis… what Fiann had once said seemed to only grow more and more true with every detail he learned about the gods. That the slaying of the Overlord… was nothing but a grand spectacle, a game in their eyes. The gods moved their Champions about like pieces on a board… and it seemed even their own followers were merely pawns in their game.

And if Raine's suspicions were correct… then there were no lengths Ilias wouldn't go to for the sake of claiming victory.

"Miss Claire?" Holly began.

The president sighed. "Let me guess: another question about magic?"

After a moment's hesitation, Holly continued. "Yeah. You used a spell to translate Sion and Whitemane's languages. But I thought translation spells had to be keyed to a specific language, or else they don't work."

Claire tilted her head, surprised. "You're pretty well-informed. That is normally the case, but one of the Ermisian branches of the Mage's Guild has been developing a spell that can translate any language, without needing to be keyed first. They've been working on it for the last decade, but only shared their findings with other branches within the last year."

Seth glanced over. "I imagine the Guild would pull a lot of profits from trade companies looking to hire mages who knew a spell like that."

"They would…" Claire began. "…but the spell has its share of problems. Mainly, its cost. Most translation spells fall on the third tier of the Myson scale, but the universal translation spell would be classified as a sixth- or even a seventh-tier spell- your average mage wouldn't even have enough mana to cast it. Not to mention it doesn't last anywhere near as long- usually it's only good for around forty-eight hours, while more traditional translation spells can last up to a week before it needs to be reapplied."

Holly's brow furrowed. "Third… tier?"

"Most schools of magic divide spells into tiers, or levels, based on the amount of mana needed to cast them," Raine explained. "Spells on higher tiers require more mana to cast, but their effects are much more potent. There are different ways that people rank spells, but the Mage's Guild uses the Myson scale, which was made by a Cybelian mage of the same name about fifteen hundred years ago."

"I never knew real magic was so complicated," Abel said. "For me, it feels like I just have to concentrate on making something happen, and then it just… does."

The group had finally laid eyes on the green-choked ruins of Ulara once again. They quickly made their way through streets choked with roots and crumbling buildings, the city harbor as their destination. Though they had time to spare- it was another two days before the Mistral was scheduled to depart- no one was willing to take any chances by slowing their pace.

Eventually, they came to a place Abel recognized. A plaza, with an obelisk rising in its center. Abel recognized it- when they first arrived in Ulara, it had been where he and Fiann had encountered the first of the gnolls. Now, it seemed abandoned, with barely any traces of the prior battle left behind- even the corpses had been taken away, leaving only dark bloodstains that would have been indistinguishable from the surrounding grime if one had been unaware of what happened. "I remember this place," he said. "I think we're close to the-"

"I was wondering when you'd finally return," a woman's voice then said, airy and mocking. The voice came from all directions as it echoed off the nearby walls. They whirled around, weapons drawn, but there was no sign of anyone else.

"Show yourself!" Lailah demanded.

Then, a figure stepped out from behind the obelisk. The figure was draped in a black cloak that hid their entire body, the hood- orange- raised to cover the figure's head, a white mask with narrow slits for the eyes covering their face. It took several paces, before stopping to face the group.

"Bacchus's Champion," the orange-hooded figure said. "It's been a while hasn't it? I have to admit, I didn't think much of you back on Mt. Gradivus. But you've actually grown stronger since then. Consider me impressed. Don't get me wrong- it won't help you here, but…" She drew a knife, which became little more than a silver blur as she rolled it through her fingers. "…you might be able to make things at least a little interesting for me."

Fiann immediately shot toward the figure. But after only a few steps, the ground under her feet exploded, throwing her back. She hit the ground, hard, and did not rise again. Abel rushed to her, holding out his hand, bathing her in the white light of his healing magic. As he tended to her, Seth readied an arrow and aimed it at the figure. "What did you just do!?"

"You'd better point that at someone else. Before you end up getting hurt." The figure held up her free hand, causing a number of glowing sigils to appear on the ground, forming a large circle around the obelisk… and herself. There was only one way to safely bypass them: to fly over.

"Explosive sigils," Claire muttered. "Enough to blast half of Ulara off the map."

The figure let out a small laugh, raising her arms as she shrugged. "I'm only here for the Champion," she said. "But I'm not above sending all of us through Hel's gates to get the job done. So, what'll it be?"

"Why are you doing this!?" Neo called out. "Who are you!?"

"Oh, you don't need to know that… " the figure replied. "But as to why I'm doing this, that's easy- to bathe in the blood of Bacchus's Champion and savor his screams as his life is brought to a horrifying and painful conclusion."

Abel felt his body freeze, his breath catch. This woman… she was completely insane. She had to be. As much as Ilias and her Order may have hated him, even assassins didn't go around blowing up entire cities just to kill one person.

The figure raised her hand, thumb raised and twitching. "Well? I'm waiting."

"You say you're only here for Abel," Minze then said. "What's stopping you from setting off your mines and killing all of us anyway?"

The figure tilted her head, thumb still hovering, ready to bring a swift and horrible end. After a moment, the figure answered. "You'll just have to take it as a matter of faith. But you have my word- when I win, I'll take my leave, and allow the rest of you to go on with your dull and meaningless lives."

Silence fell. Abel glanced around. His companions all looked at him, unsure of what to do. But the reprieve didn't last long. "Enough stalling," the masked woman barked coldly. "I am going to count to three. If you aren't inside this circle by the time I finish, then pieces of you will be raining down as far away as Lohan." She raised her hand high, and her thumb twitched again, making Abel's heart race a little faster.

Abel glanced at his companions. They were all looking to him, expressions urgent. All except one. "That's one of them, isn't it?" Raine asked in a low voice. "One of Cardinal Szandor's Archangels." He quickly nodded. "I see."

"One." the figure said.

Raine's grip tightened on her, his eyes cracked open and burning with determination. "Just say the word. I can end this. Right here and now."

But Abel replied firmly. "No. She's here because the Cardinal thinks I'm not worthy to fight the Overlord. If you help me, it'll just prove that he was right."

"What!?" the witch said harshly. "Abel I am not going to let you get yourself killed out of some-"

"Two!" the figure cried out.

They were out of time. "There are a lot of people who think I don't have what it takes to be a Hero," Abel said, his voice steady. He looked Raine in the eye. "I just never expected that you would be one of them." Wings of light erupted from his back, and he flew over the ring of sigils. He regretted his parting words to the witch nearly the moment they left his mouth. But there was no taking them back now. All he could do was ask for her forgiveness once this was over.

…If he managed to survive.

He landed on the other side of the circle, facing the masked figure. "I heard you whispering with your friend," she said. "Glad you decided to go the 'honorable' route." She then raised her palm, running her other hand across it as if brushing away dust. "See, if you'd killed me, all the explosive sigils I set on the ship we came in on would've gone off. Not even splinters would've been left behind. All those people onboard would've died." The figure tilted her head- he imagined that behind her mask, she was grinning. "And it would've been all your fault." She stiffened. "But don't worry. I disabled my dead man's switch. So you don't have to hold anything back. …Not that it'll help you."

Abel ground his teeth together in frustration, drawing his blade. "So which one are you? Sariel? Jophiel?"

The figure laughed. It was a cold, mocking sound. "I see no need to introduce myself to a dead man."

Then, without warning, she rushed at him, striking faster than he could see, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying backwards. He hit the ground hard, sliding on his back. He coughed, struggling to catch his breath as he forced himself back onto his feet. The figure approached slowly, twirling her knife around her fingers, her posture relaxed. As if Abel posed no threat to her whatsoever.

Abel sprang up, thrusting his hand toward the figure. "Angel Fire!" White flames streamed from his hand, but the figure darted to the side, avoiding them with ease. But as she touched the ground, Abel charged, almost losing his balance, before swinging his sword at her in a wide arc with all of his might. The figure ducked under the blow, spinning around to face him before thrusting her knife directly toward his heart.

The world seemed to slow as the figure's knife closed in. Instinctively, Abel swung his sword again- there was a deafening ring as the blades clashed, and the figure stumbled. For a moment, Abel was shocked. It happened so quickly. Had he… always been that fast? But the figure was already on the attack again, thrusting at his side. He swung his sword, parrying her blow, again moving faster than he ever had before. Faster than he thought was possible.

The figure circled him, striking at Abel with her knife again and again. But each time, Abel deflected her thrusts. But her attacks came swiftly, leaving him no openings to retaliate. He was at a disadvantage. And worse yet, he was already beginning to tire, his breath growing ragged as he struggled to keep up with her.

Suddenly, after a thrust, the figure leapt back. It was exactly the opening he needed. In spite of the ache in his muscles, he raced after her, raising his sword high and swinging it downward. But with ease, the figure darted to the side, and reached out to him. Not with her knife, but her free hand. She touched his shoulder, before pulling back, hand clenching into a fist. The place where she touched exploded in a burst of pain, and Abel cried out as he was sent flying once more.

He landed hard on his back, the wind knocked out of him again. He coughed, struggling to breathe as the figure again approached slowly, twirling her knife around her fingers. "Where is he, hm?" she asked. There was no mockery in her voice. Only cold disappointment. "Where's the man who killed Guillaume Rouque? Did you forget to bring him with you?"

Abel gritted his teeth, forcing himself back onto his feet. He gripped his sword as tightly as he could- his whole right arm was numb, and all he could feel of the hilt was a faint tingling in his fingertips. But he didn't care. He charged at the figure, his sword held high. The figure waited until the last moment before moving to the side again- but this time, she lunged, driving her blade deep into the side of his knee. Abel cried out, his legs wobbling before they gave out entirely, and he fell back.

The figure stood over him, her knife dripping blood. "I suppose I should've expected this. Bacchus's Champion, defeating a member of the Black Hand? What a joke. I guess the prince is too kind for his own good." She knelt down to look him in the eye. "I hope at least one member of your harem can put up a better fight."

"What!?" Abel gasped, in a mix of both shock and pain. "You said I was the only one you were after!"

The figure tilted her head, as if confused. "You actually thought I'd let your vermin friends live?" Then, she let out a small laugh. "Their fates were sealed the moment they laid eyes on me. It's the Cardinal's policy: no don't blame me- I'm just doing my job. Blame yourself, or that drunkard goddess of yours. Or maybe that bitch angel friend of yours. Whichever you-"

The figure darted back just as a sword of light cleaved through the air where she had been standing just a moment before. Abel rose into the air, the wings of light on his back replaced with streams of white flames. Then he lunged at her, thrusting his steel blade. The figure evaded his swing, but Abel simply reached out and grabbed her with his free hand, throwing her with all of his might at the obelisk. She slammed into it, cracking its surface and making her cry out… just as he launched himself at the obelisk shoulder-first, shattering it and sending both it and the figure toppling to the ground.

Abel hovered above the shattered obelisk, glaring down at the orange-hooded figure, who struggled to rise. The figure shook her head, then glared up at him in return. And she was glaring- the impact had shattered part of her mask, revealing her eye- a cold, hate-filled red. But then, she laughed. "…Maybe this will be fun after all." she said- her tone was not a mocking one, but seemingly one of genuine admiration. She reached up, and tossed her mask and cloak aside. Underneath was a woman, not much older than Abel was, with short blonde hair, light leather armor, and a belt with many, many sheathed knives. But what truly drew Abel's eye were her tattoos: thin red strips that coiled around her body like vines.

Her tattoos flashed a bright red, and she flung her knife at Abel. But before it reached him, she clenched her fist and the knife exploded, showering him with a spray of jagged metal shards. The figure dove to the side to avoid the flames, before quickly climbing the broken obelisk and leaping at Abel. Abel swung his sword, but she easily dodged, grabbing onto him- but rather than use her knife, she opened her jaws and bit down on Abel's shoulder. Abel screamed in pain as her teeth sank into his flesh, and the wings of light keeping them aloft winked out, sending them crashing to the ground. Abel turned just in time so the figure took the brunt of the impact, it was still enough to make his vision blur and his ears ring.

The figure let go of Abel, and rolled away before he could grab her again. He forced himself back onto his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain in his shoulder. The figure was already on her feet, drawing a knife from one of the many sheaths on her belt as blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. She wiped the blood away, smearing it on her face, her expression wild and savage. "Oh? Is that it?" she taunted. Then she scoffed. "And to think, you almost impressed me."

Abel charged, swinging his blade in a wide sweep. But rather than evade, the girl stood her ground, using her knife to deflect his sword at the last moment. The shock reverberated through him, making the wound in his shoulder flare. And in an instant, he was now on the defensive. The speed he'd felt before was gone- pain surged through Abel's arm and shoulder as he only just managed to deflect her thrusts and swings. But the girl showed no fatigue, striking at where his his guard was at his weakest, forcing him to retreat with every step-

The ground under his foot exploded, immediately throwing him onto the unforgiving stone ground face-first, his sword flying from his hand. His ears rang, and he thought he faintly heard one of his companions shouting his name. He coughed and wheezed, trying to roll over as he struggled to catch his breath, the impact having pushed seemingly all the air from his lungs. Abel had thought the girl's strikes were simply at openings in his guard, but only now did he understand the intent behind them: she'd been pushing him toward the ring of explosive sigils surrounding them.

Abel struggled to stand, only for the girl to kick him in the side, forcing out what little air he'd collected into his lungs and flipping him onto his back. He coughed and sputtered, barely able to focus as the girl stood over him, knife in hand. Her grin from before was gone. The gleam in her eye from earlier had gone out. The only thing left was her expression: that of cold, unflinching contempt. "So that really is all you have," she said faintly. "I don't know if that says more about you, or your goddess. Either way, before I send you to meet Hel, you should know the name of the one who sent you to her. And her name is Baraquiel… the Archangel of Thunder!"

The girl suddenly leapt on Abel, thrusting her blade directly at his throat. Abel raised an arm reflexively, causing the blade to sink into his forearm instead. She pushed against him with all her might, as if trying to force her blade through his arm- he grabbed her by the wrist, trying to push her back. But as hard as he tried, her blade only cut deeper and deeper into his flesh. "You're still fighting me!?" she snarled. "You're not impressing me right now! You're just pissing me off!" Abel was panicking. He had no leverage, no way to force Baraquiel off of him. The only thing he could think to do was…

He focused, concentrating as hard as he could. And for a brief moment, wings of light ignited on his back, pushing both him and Baraquiel into the air. But then his wings were extinguished, stopping his rise and flinging Baraquiel away. She landed a short distance away, briefly sliding over the ground before rising back to her feet, knife in hand. Abel's landing however was much less graceful; one of his legs gave out the moment he put any weight on it, the same one caught in the sigil's explosion, sending him to one knee. He placed a hand over his wounded leg, concentrating on trying to mend the wound… but Baraquiel wouldn't give him the chance. She threw her knife at Abel, blade perfectly positioned to pierce through his throat. Disarmed, Abel had no way to deflect the blade- he could only evade it, using his good leg to launch himself to the side. It was a feeble dive, but it was enough to put him safely outside the knife's path. But before he could rise, the girl charged, drawing yet another knife from her belt. She came at Abel so swiftly that her feet barely seemed to touch the plaza paving stones. There wouldn't be enough time to heal himself or dodge again- he had to meet her head-on. He focused, tensing as he waited for the right moment. If he was even slightly off, too early or too late…

He saw her eyes shift a second before she began her lethal thrust. As she did, he swung his arm upward, a sword of light forming in his hand. Baraquiel saw it, but she had committed to the lunge too far- she couldn't pull away, only try to redirect her momentum. But she could only shift so far, and in the end, it wouldn't be far enough, as Abel's blade of light cleaved through Baraquiel's forearm. Time seemed to slow as the assassin passed him, both him and her watching as her arm tumbled through the air, blood spraying from the stump, hand still clutching her knife. Then Baraquiel crashed to the ground, screaming, clutching the stump where the rest of her arm had been. Abel gritted his teeth, and laid a hand on his chest, bathing himself in a white light that mended his many wounds. The pain faded, leaving him sore but whole once more.

He rose slowly, wincing as he put weight on his injured leg, not trusting it quite yet. He looked over at Baraquiel, who writhed on the ground, growling and moaning in a confused mix of pain and anger. His sword was some distance away, but he didn't feel the usual pounding in his temples that he did when he'd spent too much mana. If she tried anything, he was certain he could stop her. But made no move against the figure on the ground before him, kneeling in a rapidly-expanding pool of her own blood. Instead, he turned, and said to her, "It's over. If you surrender-"

But Baraquiel cut him off with an enraged shriek, tearing a knife from her belt and charging at Abel again, swinging her blade in a blind fury. Abel only just managed to evade her swing, and the second, but the third cut through the sleeve of his coat and bit deep into his arm.

He called a blade of light, and swung at her again, but Baraquiel dodged his strike, before slashing at him again, leaving a cut on his face that came far too close to his eye. Abel retreated, but Baraquiel closed the distance in mere seconds, slashing at him again, catching his leg. Despite the wound he'd inflicted, in all likelihood she would slice him to pieces before she bled out. He had to end this, here and now.

Baraquiel rushed him again, arm drawing back for a thrust aimed at his heart. But Abel matched her charge, using a burst of speed from his wings to close the distance, while at the same time bringing his hands together and summoning a sword of light. He thrust just as he closed in, and his blade struck true, piercing through Baraquiel's chest just under her ribs. She froze, letting out a gasping, choked cry, and spitting up blood. The sword of light in Abel's hands faded, and he stepped back, waiting for his foe to fall…

But she didn't. Instead, she sprang at Abel with unexpected strength, raising her knife and driving it into his shoulder while her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. She looked him in the eye, gaze filled with an icy hatred. Then she twisted the knife, grinning horribly with blood-stained teeth, the tattoos on her body beginning to glow in an angry red light. "Were you really hoping I'd just fall over and die, just like that!?" Baraquiel croaked, voice thick with blood. Abel struggled against her, trying to break free, but she held on with surprising strength, her legs like bands of steel. She pressed her knife deeper into his shoulder, and her tattoos continued to shine even brighter. "But don't feel too bad." She leaned in, letting go of his knife to touch his face. "At least you'll get to enjoy the embrace of a pretty girl before you die!" Baraquiel's tattoos flared, becoming as bright as the sun… and then, she exploded in a burst of fire and light.

The force of the blast knocked Abel off his feet, sending him hurtling across the plaza. He hit the ground hard, pain shooting through his entire body. His vision swam, before his senses returned, and he slowly climbed back to his feet. He was drenched in blood, and strange fragments of red, and white, and black that he didn't know- or want to know- the names of, but he was unhurt… or at least, the explosion hadn't caused any new injuries. He looked to where he had been standing, but Baraquiel wasn't there. Nothing was there, except for a large red stain in the ground, spread like some misshapen star.

"Abel!" He heard someone shout from nearby. He turned, and saw Lailah and the others hurrying over, weapons drawn. The priestess came to a stop in front of him, looking him over with great concern. "Are you…?"

"I-I'm fine," he stammered in reply. "But how did you get here? The sigils…"

"Without special preparation, sigils dispel as soon as their caster dies," Claire replied. "But I'm more interested in how you survived that explosion. It should've turned you into a bloodstain just like her, but you barely have a scratch from it." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Abel looked down at himself. "I… I don't-"

The answer came when a tiny human figure emerged from within Abel's body, clad in a white dress, with pink eyes, vibrant blue hair that was the same shade as the sky, and feathery white wings on her back.

"Niel…" Abel said. Of course- Niel must have used her magic to protect him from the explosion.

"Parrot?" Raine asked, seemingly surprised to see her. "Picked a hell of a time to make a dramatic entrance."

The angel didn't give her normal snappy reply, merely breathing heavily as she fluttered in the air. Then, she pitched forward, and fell to the ground.

"Niel!" Abel reached out, catching Niel in his hands. As he looked down at her, he realized something was happening. Her wings… they were vanishing, disappearing as being burned away by invisible flames. At the same time, her hair's color also changed, turning from a light blue to a deep black.

The others crowded around Abel and Niel, trying to see what had happened. "What's going on?" "Is she okay?" "You had… girl inside you?"

But Abel wasn't listening, absently handing Niel to the closest person- Holly. "Here. I'll be back." In an instant, Abel's wings of light flared to life, and he shot into the sky, even as his companions shouted for him to return. He soared high into the air, gaze sweeping the horizon until he spotted what he was looking for- a boat, resting on the water some distance from the pier. He flew towards it, landing on the deck hard enough to make the entire Mistral rock. There was an immediate uproar among the deckhands, something that didn't go unnoticed. "What in the world is going- fuck me!" Liz ascended from the steps leading into the ship's depths, only to recoil in horror on seeing Abel. He couldn't fault her reaction- he was covered head to toe in blood and whatever else you could find inside a person's body.

"Alcohol," he said bluntly. "Bring me alcohol. As much of it as you can."

The merchant gave him a look, as if he'd lost his mind. "What for!? And what the hell happened-"

"Do it!" Abel stomped his foot, cracking the deck and making the Mistral rock again. Liz recoiled, but several sailors scuttled below deck, before returning with a large cask of wine, clearly fearful of the consequences of not complying with an angry blood-soaked flying man making demands from them. Abel had good reasons for what he was doing, but explaining would take too long- every moment he wasted… he grabbed the cask's lid and ripped it off, before grabbing the cask and pouring it over himself, mouth wide to catch as much of its contents as he could. Immediately, he felt a burn, and not just in his throat- the wound in his shoulder, on his face, even on his leg… maybe pouring an entire cask of wine over himself wasn't the best idea after all. But it was working. Abel stumbled as a heady sensation washed over him, and he fell back, landing hard on the deck. The sky was already fading into black, and the last thing he felt was the faint sensation as the wine burned in his wounds.

Abel awoke, splashing and flailing, in the fountain outside Bacchus's villa. As soon as he pulled himself out of the fountain, he ran to the villa, and pounded on the door with his fists. "Bacchus!" he shouted. "Bacchus!"

It didn't take long for the door to swing open. Behind it was Bacchus's underling, Sterope. "Lord Abel?" she said, surprised. "What are you-"

"Get out of my way!" He pushed the taller woman aside, and stepped into the villa. "Bacchus! Bacchus where are you!?"

"Hey Sterope is everything alright? I heard yelling!" another voice called from deeper within the villa. And after a moment, Bacchus stepped into the foyer, just as surprised to see Abel as Sterope. "Abel? Why are you here? If I knew you were coming to visit-"

Abel crossed the room, grabbing Bacchus's shoulders. "Bacchus you have to help me! It's Niel! Something happened to her!"

Bacchus tilted her head in confusion. "Niel?" Then her eyes widened. "Oh right! Your angel companion! Well, actually, I can't call her that anymore."

"Wha- what's that supposed to mean?"

"Your friend is no longer an angel," Sterope said, speaking up for the first time since Abel had entered the villa. She looked at Abel with pity in her eyes. "Lord Ilias has stripped her of her halo."

Abel felt a cold and heavy weight settle in his chest. No, that couldn't be right. But then he remembered Niel's wings vanishing, her hair changing color; and before that, in Aglis, how her halo had been missing when she'd returned from the heavens; and even before that, how she could have lost her halo for helping him. As much as Abel didn't want it to be true, the evidence seemed to speak for itself. But… "Bacchus… you're a god, aren't you?" he began. "And gods have angels to serve them, right? So, you can help her… can't you?" He drew closer and closer with every word, until their faces were almost touching, desperate to hear her say yes.

But… the goddess averted her gaze, saying nothing.

"Bacchus?" But she didn't answer. "Bacchus!" Still, there was no answer.

Slowly, Abel took her hands off the goddess's shoulders. "…Why? At least… tell me that much." His voice cracked, unable to understand why she wouldn't help him, why she wouldn't even answer him. Her silence stabbed at him deeper than Baraquiel's knives.

An answer finally came. But not from Bacchus. "Only the upper tier of gods are permitted to create angels to be their servants," Sterope explained. "Bacchus can't take her in."

It took Abel a moment to process this information. He then turned his gaze toward Sterope. "You're… not an angel? But, you serve Bacchus, right?"

"I do," she replied, "but I'm merely an attendant, not an angel. I don't receive power from Bacchus as an angel would from their patron, nor can I leave Bacchus's domain."

For a long while, Abel was silent. Then, he asked, shakily, "Then, what am I supposed to do? How do I help her?"

"Your friend isn't in danger, if that's what you're worried about," Bacchus said, finally speaking for what felt like an eternity. "Having their halo taken means that an angel becomes mortal, just as much as you or the rest of your companions. But, as for having it returned… only Lord Ilias can make that decision. And she isn't one to be swayed after deciding something. You do understand, don't you?"

Abel's heart sank. But that did raise a question: if Niel wasn't an angel anymore, how had she protected him from Baraquiel?

But that was a question for Niel herself.

Slowly, Abel nodded. "I do." He stepped away from Bacchus. "Can you… send me back?"

"Of course." Then Bacchus reached up and tapped Abel on the forehead.

He awoke, not in a pool of wine on the Mistral's deck, but spread out on a cot below decks. He sat up, his skin stiff from its coat of now-dried blood, waves of pain flowing through his body from his shoulder. He brought up his hand, mending his wound with a glow of white light. But with the pain gone, he felt something was stuck inside his jacket, something hard. A rock? Abel reached into the hole to fish the object. It was… a tooth. He cried in surprise and flung the tooth across the cabin. Someone must have been waiting for him to awaken, because the cabin door opened, and a younger girl with red hair stepped inside. "You're awake," Liz said, looking Abel up and down with a worried expression.

"Sorry," Abel began, climbing off the bed. "It was an emergency. Had to talk to Bacchus."

"I… see…" the merchant replied, looking Abel up and down thoroughly. "What… happened to you out there?.

"Hasn't anyone told you yet?" Abel asked, surprised.

Liz shook her head. "The Mistral hasn't docked yet. You've only been out for about twenty minutes."

Twenty minutes? Abel was all? It felt much shorter in Bacchus's domain. But then he noticed Liz was staring at him expectantly. "Right. An assassin tried to kill me."

Liz spluttered, wide-eyed. "De-di- Wh-What!?"

"And this wouldn't even be the first time someone tried to kill me," he added.

The younger woman took several moments to find her words, stammering nonsense until she did. "Th-That's… quite the occupational hazard," she finally said, before adding in a quiet voice, "…and I thought I knew a thing or two about cutthroat businesses."

Abel gave her an odd look, until he realized that the merchant was making a joke. Then he stood. "I should get back to the others," he said, already moving toward the exit.

"And how do you plan to get back to shore?" Liz asked as the two stepped into the passageway.

Abel didn't answer until the two were on the Mistral's deck. As Liz had said, the ship was approaching Ulara's pier, but it was still too far for the crew to drop anchor and cast lines. To his surprise, there were two people waiting at the pier: Sion and Neo. "The same way I got here," he finally replied, before his wings flared to life, and he soared from the deck to the pier. Several sailors shouted in surprise, pointing at him as he landed on the pier with all the subtlety and grace of a meteor. "I didn't think anyone would be waiting to meet me."

"Your companions were fairly confident they knew where you would go," Neo replied. He then turned his attention to Sion. "Speaking of… Sion, can you show Abel back to the others?"

Sion tilted her head. "You… stay?" she asked, surprised.

"Only for a little while," the older man said. "I have some familiarity with how boats are constructed, but I have never seen one of such size. I would like to ask those aboard how one would build such a vessel."

"You should talk to her, then," Abel said, pointing toward Liz. "Her name's Liz. She's the one in charge of our expedition. If she doesn't know, she can find someone onboard who does." His attention shifted to Sion. "Let's go."

Though Neo had instructed Sion guide Abel, Abel took the lead, snaking through Ulara's overgrown roads, allowing his amulet to guide him as it pulled him in the direction of his target: Niel. But before he reached their destination, something approached them- Abel reached for his belt, only to find his scabbard empty, having never retrieved his sword. But the weapon wouldn't have been necessary, as it was not an enemy approaching, but rather an ally. "Master Abel…" Minze said in a flat tone. "I trust you've concluded whatever business you were seeing to?"

Abel scratched the side of his neck. "Yeah, sorry. I paid Bacchus a visit. To ask what happened to Niel. By the way, is she…"

"She awoke not long after you departed," the maid replied. "She shared a little with us, but wanted to wait for you before disclosing everything."

"Let's not keep everyone waiting then," Abel replied, before following Minze. She led him to the plaza from before, and then into a large building at its edge that was slightly more intact than the ones on either side of it. Whatever purpose it may have served was now lost, as what furniture it contained had decayed beyond recognition. The only piece of furniture still (relatively) intact was a large stone table near the center of the room, around which the others were gathered, and upon which the angel sat. All eyes turned to him once they entered, and Raine waved him over, calling, "Blue, over here!" The angel looked up as Abel, Minze, and Sion approached. Her eyes were hollow, and she swayed slightly, as if in a daze. Even when Raine spoke again, saying, "Hey, Parrot. Blue's here," she barely seemed aware of his presence. Niel only seemed to respond when Abel himself spoke to her.

"Hey, Niel. It's… been a little while."

Niel's eyes slowly rose, to meet Abel's. She stared at him for a few moments. But her expression remained vacant. After several more awkward moments, she finally replied, "Abel. You're here."

He leaned against the table, bringing himself to eye level with the angel. "Bacchus told me what happened. Is it… true? Are you really… not an angel anymore?"

There was surprised murmuring among the others- it seemed Niel had refrained from telling them that much. But Niel didn't reply. At least, not immediately. Instead, she hung her head, and whispered, "…Yes. I'm… no longer an angel of Ilias. I haven't been… since we left Aglis."

More murmuring. But there was one other who wasn't surprised by Niel's revelation. "I thought that might've been the case," Raine said, looking at the angel, frowning with her head tilted. "Your halo was missing when you came back."

The angel's gaze shifted, turning to the witch. "…you noticed."

"Wait, what does that mean?" Holly asked. "Her halo being missing, I mean."

"An angel's halo is a conduit, connecting them to the power of the god they serve," Raine replied. "Losing their halo means an angel can't wield their patron deity's power."

Niel closed her eyes, taking a breath. When she opened her eyes again, she had regained some of her composure. Not a lot, but enough that she seemed more like her old self. "That's not entirely true. I can still use any power I accumulated before my halo was taken, but I wouldn't be able to receive more. And… I expended the last of my power to protect Abel from that assassin."

"What'll happen to you now?" Seth asked, looking down at the tiny woman. "Are you gonna be… stuck like this?"

"What about Abel's power?" Lailah cut in. "They come from giving him your blood, isn't that right, Your Grace? And if you're no longer an angel-"

"Abel will be fine," Niel interrupted. "Think of my power as something like a candle's flame. If that flame was used to light another candle, the second candle would continue to burn even if the first were put out. Abel's abilities won't vanish just because I'm no longer an angel."

"Is that why you did not emerge from Abel since we left Aglis?" Violet asked. "Were you trying to conserve what power you had left?"

But then Seth cut in. "Hold on, you never answered my question. Are you going to be stuck as a tiny person forever now?"

The room fell silent for several seconds, until Niel closed her eyes again, taking a deep breath. When she opened them, they seemed distant, unfocused. She looked around at the others, then finally nodded. "Yes," she said softly. "And… yes. This is how I am now."

Fiann wrote something in her notebook, which Minze then read aloud. "'Abel, could you not simply ask your patron deity to take her in?'"

This question caused everyone else present to turn their attention to Abel. His answer came swiftly. "I asked Bacchus if she could take in Niel when I went to visit her. But, she said only the upper tier of gods can have angels as servants."

Silence fell among the others. Finally, Violet asked, "Then, what should we do now?"

Another moment of silence passed, before Minze gave an answer. "I think our first order of business should be to return to Lohan. We have no further business here, and the priesthood of Ilias may be able to provide a solution."

There was general agreement to this plan, and the group began to head back to the pier. Before that, however, Raine suggested that Abel clean himself up, assuring him that Niel would be in good hands while he was away. He was still covered in blood, wine, and who knew what else; fortunately, Sion knew of a few places in the ruins where he could wash up. As Sion began escorting him away, however, Lailah grabbed Abel's shoulder. "Sion," she said. "Could you give me a moment to talk to Abel? Alone?"

Sion looked at Abel reluctantly, but ultimately complied, leaving the two alone. The priestess then led Abel into a small alleyway, choked with roots, out of earshot of the rest of the group. Once she decided they were far enough away, Lailah turned her attention to Abel, her expression turning serious. "Abel," she said quietly, "That woman from before… who was she?"

Abel began to stammer. "Wh-What are you-"

Lailah placed a hand against the wall on one side of Abel, then the other, trapping him while she looked down at him. "Abel. Please don't lie to me. She knew you. And you knew her."

Abel let out a long breath. A part of him always knew that he would have to tell Lailah the truth about what happened on Mt. Gradivus, but not like this. Still, he forced himself to answer.

"Back in Lescatie, when I climbed Mt. Gradivus, a Cardinal from the Church came after me, and told me to abandon my quest. When I refused… he had assassins try to kill me. That woman… was one of the assassins."

Lailah looked down. Next to him, her fingernails dug deep gouges in the bricks of the wall behind him. "His name," she growled. "What is his name?"

Abel began, "Lailah-"

"Tell me!" she shouted, her voice echoing in the alley. For a brief moment, her eyes flashed red, and her pupils narrowed into hair-thin slits. "If he sent that woman after you, then I'll find him. I'll find him and shove my spear down his throat!"

"Lailah you can't!" Abel said sharply.

"And why not!?" she snapped back.

"Yep. Reacted just the way I thought you would," came a new voice. The two looked, to see Raine approaching, carrying Niel in her hands.

"You two…" the priestess said. "Wait, you knew about all this?"

"Of course I did," Niel replied. "I was there when it happened."

Raine nodded. "I put together what happened to Blue after he came back. And after he told us what happened, we- Niel and I- made a promise to him. We promised Abel that no matter what, we'd protect him from anyone from the Church who might come after him."

Lailah looked between the two, gaze hardening. "I can protect Abel, too."

"Oh I know," the witch replied. "But I also know that picking a fight with the Church is the worst thing we can do right now."

"Are you afraid of them?" Lailah asked curtly. "Because I'm not."

"It has nothing to do with being afraid, priestess," Niel stated. "The Church is one of the most powerful organizations in the entire world, not just in Bastok. Your lack of fear won't change that fact."

Lailah glared at the former angel, but didn't say anything. So Abel stepped in. "Lailah, can you please just… let this go? I'm not saying I won't defend myself if the Cardinal, or anyone else from the Church that tries to stop us. But we can't fight against the Overlord and the Church at the same time."

Lailah considered his words for a moment, clearly unhappy, but she eventually nodded. "Alright." Her attention shifted to Raine and Niel. "But you two… we're going to have a long discussion about this 'Cardinal' once we get back to Lohan. And you're going to tell me everything. Understood?"

Then, a timid voice stammered, "U-Um…" Everyone looked, to see Sion peering around the corner of the passageway, tense, as if ready to flee at a moment's notice. She asked cautiously, "Everyone is… mad?

Abel turned to the elf. "No, we're not mad. We just…"

"…have things we need to talk about," Raine finished for him. The witch then pushed Abel toward Sion. "Anyway, we kept you long enough, Blue. Off you go. Make sure to give yourself a good scrub. Oh, and I'll grab some lemons for you once we get back on the boat! Their juice is good at getting rid of bloodstains. Just soak what you wanna clean in cold water, rub in the juice, give it another rinse, and you're golden!"

The witch kept talking until Abel and Sion were out of sight and- hopefully- out of earshot, before returning her attention to Lailah. "Y'know Sis, I always thought of you as an intelligent person. I never thought I'd never need to explain why trying to stand up against the Church is a bad idea. To a demon, no less."

Lailah gasped in surprise, before tensing. Her eyes flashed, her pupils narrowed, and her teeth lengthened and sharpened. Eyes fixed on the former angel, she growled, "Just how many secrets have you shared behind my back?"

Raine didn't flinch, answering, "I actually found that one out myself. But don't worry- I don't plan on telling anyone. I'm not sure why you're helping Abel, but I doubt you're following him on the Overlord's orders. If you had any bad intentions, you wouldn't have waited this long."

Lailah continued to glare, but the changes in her body slowly receded. "And what about you?" she asked in a low growl. "What are your intentions with Abel?"

"My role is to be an observer," the witch replied. "Nothing more."

Niel looked up at the witch. "An observer who who, exactly?"

Raine looked down at the former angel in surprise. "What- Parrot!? I thought you and I were on the same side!"

"Our goals may align, but that doesn't mean I trust you, witch. Now, answer."

Raine shook her head. "I'm not at liberty to disclose that, I'm afraid. But you both have my word that I have no affiliation with the Church… for what little my word would be worth to you." She then moved her hands, setting Niel on her shoulder. "Let's go, Parrot."

"And where are you two going?" Lailah asked.

The witch grinned, her jovial tone returning. "Come on, ya really think I'm gonna let that new girl get any alone time with Blue? No way! I was waiting for a slice of that pie long before that hussy showed up…"

Raine began to walk away- the sudden shift made Niel teeter and cling desperately to the witch's collar. "Hey, careful! I can't catch myself if I fall now," she chided.

As they walked down the passageway, Lailah looked after them. She knew. Raine knew her secret. And she'd revealed it, so casually…

She shuddered. She suddenly realized that in all the time they'd traveled together, she barely knew anything about Raine. They'd stumbled upon her by pure chance, and then she'd slipped into their lives, as if she'd always been there. But, had it really been mere chance? Or had circumstances been arranged to merely seem that way? After all, the witch herself said her role was to be an observer. But who was she meant to be observing? Logically, the target had to be Abel, but could it have been her instead? Or even both of them? And just as importantly, who had sent her to observe them? Despite her insistence to the contrary, Raine could have been an agent for the Church. Or, perhaps a spy from a nation not aligned with the Order- Cybele, Peryn, or somewhere even further abroad. She may have even been a spy in service to the Overlord himself, or one of his generals. The possibilities seemed endless, circling in her head, picking at her brain like a flock of vultures.

But whatever the truth, that girl was not the blithe, carefree spirit she pretended to be. No, beneath that guise lay something far more devious and cunning. And Lailah couldn't help but wonder what sort of secrets lay hidden behind the witch's playful smiles. But whatever her true affiliation was, whatever plans she had in store… the moment Raine posed any threat to Abel, the priestess would ensure that her schemes came to an abrupt, and permanent end. She knew that Abel would never forgive her for putting so much suspicion on someone they considered a friend, but she could take no chances. His safety was too important.

"Abel…" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can protect you, too. I will protect you." She put a hand on her chest, gripping her vest tight.

"I will."

Darkness.

Niel floated in a sea of absolute darkness. There was no light, no sound, nothing at all. She couldn't even feel her body, as if she were one with the void.

Niel had no fondness for sleep. As an angel, she had no need for sleep, or food, or any of the other necessities mortals required. Her first encounter with it came shortly after she'd given Abel her blood, and the sudden drain of her power caused her to fall unconscious- she awoke utterly terrified, certain that her experience must have been what death was like, finally understanding why mortals feared it so. And repeated exposure had done nothing to raise her opinion of it. The thought that she would have to spend hours of every day of the rest of her mortal life trapped in this limbo, neither dead nor alive, filled her with a deep dread.

But, there was one small comfort. No longer being an angel meant she was no longer bound by her oaths of service to Ilias. Including the edict of non-interference. She could share her knowledge with Abel, openly and freely. All he needed to do was ask. And perhaps, more importantly, it meant that she could help him. Protect him from those who would do him harm.

Or… that was how it was supposed to be. Ilias, however, had other designs. Now, Niel was trapped in a tiny, almost helpless body, unable to even defend herself, much less someone else. As if it were one final punishment from her former master- a denial of the chance to do what she wanted most. To free her from her oaths, only to take away the means to act upon that freedom.

Niel floated in the void for eternity, waiting for something to happen. Anything. Even the sensation of movement within the darkness would have been preferable to this stagnant stillness.

And then, a voice called out to her. A feminine voice, soft and youthful, yet cold as ice.

"You poor, unfortunate soul."

Niel turned, looking about in the void, but saw nothing. "Who's there!?" she called back. Her voice was distant, echoing in the seemingly infinite darkness.

"Such a cruel fate," the voice continued. Unlike Niel's, strange voice was clear, seemingly coming from every direction. "Cast aside, for the crime of displaying the very virtues your patron espouses. But then again, that is the fate of any tool that fails to carry out its intended purpose. And make no mistake, little angel- that is all you ever were in your master's eyes. All you will ever be. A tool."

Niel wheeled around. But still, the void was empty. "Show yourself!"

Then the darkness… opened, revealing an even deeper, blacker abyss. A hole in the void, taking a human shape. And from that hole shone a light. Two lights, colored a brilliant orange, like a pair of all-consuming flames. And from that abyss flowed a deep, unfathomable malevolence- a hatred of life that seemed to flow forth like waves from a frozen ocean. A hatred so vast, so deep, it could only belong to…

"You… you're the Fallen, aren't you!?"

The dark shape let out a hearty laugh. "...Is that what she calls me now? Oh Hera… you haven't changed at all."

Hera… Niel didn't know that name. But she could think of only one reason why the dark god had come. "…If you were planning to use me as a spy, then you're wasting your time. Ilias stripped me of my halo and cast me out. I'm not part of her heavenly host anymore."

The shadow loomed closer, regarding her with its burning gaze. "Oh, I'm well aware. It's why I'm here. And it's also why I brought… this."

The dark shape held up its hand, index finger pointed upward. Floating above the shape's fingertip was a ring, made from black wires twisted together and covered in short, sharp spikes. Immense power radiated from the ring, power that was both foreign and familiar.

A halo.

Niel's gaze lingered on the halo, before returning to the shadow's eyes. If she still had a face, it would have been twisted in anger. "Did you think you could tempt me that easily? I don't care that I lost my power."

"I offer more than the chance to reclaim your powers, little angel. I give you the chance to fulfill your heart's deepest desire."

"And what makes you think you know anything about what I want!?"

"Because we both want the same thing." The dark figure vanished from in front of Niel. Then, it said from behind, directly into her ear:

"To protect My King." An unseen hand slipped around her waist, and another slid across her face. "Our King."

Niel gasped, and yanked herself free from the shadow's grasp. "You… what do you want with Abel!?" She looked around, but the shadow had retreated, becoming a vague silhouette in the darkness, marked only by its glowing eyes.

"I already told you," it replied. "What I want… is to protect My King."

"Y- …You're lying!" Niel shouted, her stammered words echoing feebly.

"I have no reason to lie to you," the shadow said softly, almost sympathetically. "Unlike Ilias." Its voice grew cold once more. "Now, what shall it be, little angel? Enemies surround Our King on all sides. Will you stand idly by, content to let them succeed… or will you choose to do something about it?"

Niel was silent. Her superiors in Ilias's host- and even Ilias herself- had always warned that the Fallen's greatest weapons were not its armies or its spells, but its words. The dark god could weave lies together like threads on a loom, forming a tapestry made of everything a listener would want to hear.

But…

Again, Niel looked at the shadow, hate bubbling within her. "Just who do you think you are? 'My King?' 'Our' King?' Abel doesn't belong to you!"

The shadow leaned in close. Even though she had no body, its gaze still seemed to burn Niel. "I never said that he belonged to me."

"Enough!" Niel shouted. "I would rather live as I am now, frail and powerless, than as your slave!"

The shadow tilted its head. If it had a face, it's expression was likely one of icy disdain. "So be it," it replied, before fading. The void, the halo, the feeling of malevolence… all of it receded. As if it had never existed. Only its voice remained, whispering in the darkness:

"Make no mistake, little angel. You may no longer be bound by Ilias's oaths, but you are still her slave. What I offer are not shackles, but freedom. True freedom. The freedom to choose your own path. The freedom to be more than a mere tool. Perhaps you will have come to understand this… when next we meet."

And with that, silence returned to the endless expanse, leaving Niel alone, with only her thoughts as company.