Errant Wings (BL)

The halls of Asphodel's High Council were built from light itself.

Towering arches of pure celestial stone loomed overhead, lined with intricate carvings of ancient victories—angels standing triumphant, demons cast into oblivion, the endless war between light and shadow immortalized in gold.

But today, there was no triumph.

There was only silence.

Seraphine stood at the center of the council chamber, her arms crossed over her chest, her sharp gaze sweeping over the gathered angels. Brisco. Leya. Queen Rishe. Others watched from the shadows, whispering among themselves.

The tension in the room was thick, coiling like an unseen storm.

Because for the first time in thousands of years—

A demon had walked into Asphodel.

And an angel had chosen to stand beside him.

"This is unacceptable."

Seraphine's voice was cold, clipped, carrying none of her usual discipline—only anger.

"A demon crossed into our realm, killed three of our own, and instead of striking him down, Azarel stood between him and judgment."

A murmur spread through the gathered angels. Some nodded in agreement, while others cast uncertain glances at each other.

Brisco was the first to speak.

"He didn't just stand there. He challenged us. He defied us."

His deep-blue-edged wings shifted slightly, his tone not angry, but calculated.

"He was not protecting a demon. He was claiming that we were wrong."

Seraphine exhaled sharply. "And what do you make of that?"

Brisco's expression didn't change. "That we should be asking ourselves the same question."

The murmurs grew louder.

Seraphine's jaw clenched. "You can't be serious."

"I am always serious." Brisco's gaze was steady. "And I do not believe in blind judgment."

Seraphine's hands curled into fists. "He is corrupted. Can't you see it?"

"Or perhaps," Leya interjected, her voice softer but no less powerful, "he sees something we don't."

Seraphine turned sharply. "Not you too."

Leya was unfazed. She stood tall, her emerald-edged wings shimmering under the celestial glow.

"Azarel has always walked a path different from the rest of us. And unlike you, Seraphine, I do not believe he has fallen. I believe he is looking for something."

"What?" Seraphine demanded. "What could he possibly be looking for in a demon?"

Leya's eyes were unreadable. "Perhaps the truth."

A ripple of unease passed through the room.

Seraphine turned to the only one who had not yet spoken.

Queen Rishe.

She sat on the elevated throne at the end of the chamber, regal and silent, wrapped in robes of white and silver.

Her violet eyes were unreadable, her expression untouched by the chaos around her.

Seraphine's voice lowered, controlled. "My Queen. What would you have us do?"

The air stilled.

Queen Rishe's gaze swept over the chamber.

She did not speak immediately.

When she did, her voice was like a whisper of finality.

"I would have us wait."

Seraphine stiffened. "Wait? On what?"

Rishe's violet eyes gleamed.

"On the truth."

Leya and Brisco exchanged a glance.

Seraphine's wings flared, but she did not argue.

Because no one argued with Queen Rishe.

Far beneath Asphodel, where light could not reach, the Abyss pulsed with life.

Lilith's sanctuary was unlike the rest of Kur'thaal.

Where the wastelands were brutal and chaotic, this place was thriving. The walls were alive with twisting obsidian roots, deep pools of dark energy shimmered in the air, and strange creatures slithered between shadows—beings she had created herself.

She sat upon her throne of woven darkness, her golden eyes half-lidded in thought, one hand absentmindedly stroking the scaled hide of a newly formed beast at her feet.

She had been waiting.

And now, everything was falling into place.

A quiet chuckle broke the silence.

Varasha stood at the edge of the chamber, her lithe form resting against a jagged column, her yellow eyes gleaming with amusement.

"It's going too well."

Lilith smiled without looking up.

"Of course it is."

Varasha tilted her head. "Even you didn't think he would follow the demon that far."

Lilith's fingers tapped against the throne.

"Didn't I?"

Varasha exhaled a soft laugh, stepping forward. "You're enjoying this."

"I enjoy all things that lead to inevitable ends."

Varasha smirked, "And what, exactly, is the end you seek?"

Lilith finally lifted her gaze, her golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.

"Balance."

Varasha raised an eyebrow.

"Balance?" she echoed.

Lilith's smile widened.

"What do you think happens when an angel and a demon stop seeing the world in black and white?"

Varasha blinked.

Then, slowly, a grin spread across her lips.

"Ah. You're breaking him."

"No, my dear," Lilith murmured, "he is breaking himself."

Varasha tilted her head back, letting out a wild, delighted laugh.

"And what comes next?"

Lilith exhaled slowly, as if savoring the moment.

Then—she rose to her feet.

"Now, we prepare."

Her voice was soft, but absolute.

"Because soon, the angels will not know who their true enemies are."

Varasha grinned. "And the demon?"

Lilith smiled. "Oh, my dear. Vael was never the target."

Varasha's smirk faltered. "Then who?"

Lilith's eyes gleamed.

"Azarel."