Errant Wings (BL)

After the angels withdrew from Kur'thaal, most headed back to Asphodel's safe expanse. However, Azarel lingered at the edge between worlds. Something on the battlefield had quietly called to him—some subtle flicker in the gloom he couldn't explain. Despite the ever-present danger, he descended alone, drawn by a whisper of power that defied reason.

Below, the scorched ground still smoldered from celestial strikes. Smoke rose in curling tendrils, and the dark sky of Kur'thaal churned overhead, punctuated by distant eruptions of molten rock. Azarel moved through the debris, golden highlights reflecting on his white wings, careful not to wander too far into demon territory.

Amid broken blades and shattered obsidian, Azarel noticed a small, pulsing object half-buried in the ash. Its faint glow flickered erratically, as though in response to his presence. Kneeling, he brushed away the soot, revealing a relic forged from unfamiliar metal. Tiny runes traced its surface, giving off an almost imperceptible hum.

Azarel's heart pounded as he picked it up. The relic felt oddly warm, pulsing with a strange energy that tugged at his senses. "What are you?" he murmured under his breath, captivated by the possibility that it contained a secret link to Kur'thaal's hidden powers.

Unbeknownst to Azarel, Vael watched from the shadows of a jagged cliff. Like a silent sentinel, the demon observed the lone angel move through the devastation. He recognized Azarel from their fleeting glance on the battlefield but sensed the angel remained oblivious to his presence.

Vael's red eyes narrowed. "Why is he here alone?" he wondered, a faint swirl of energy flickering around the runes on his chest. Though he felt an unbidden curiosity—and a twinge of something else that he couldn't name—he kept his distance, unwilling to provoke a confrontation.

Azarel, meanwhile, studied the relic in silence, entirely focused on its intricate lines. He had no inkling that he was not alone.

Suddenly, a commanding voice shattered the hush:"Azarel!"

Seraphine descended swiftly, her three pairs of crescent-shaped wings shining in the dim, ashen light. Her posture radiated authority and exasperation.

"What are you doing here by yourself?" she demanded, scanning the surroundings for danger.

Startled, Azarel rose to his feet. Clutching the relic tightly, he turned to face Seraphine with a guilty look."I... I sensed something. I had to see what it was."

Her expression grew stern. "We just fought a major battle, and you vanish without reporting? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Azarel struggled to find words. The impulse that had brought him there defied easy explanation. He cast one last glance at the gloom-enshrouded battlefield, a vague unease prickling at the back of his mind. Though he saw no one, the relic in his hand seemed to vibrate softly, as if responding to another presence.

Seraphine didn't give him the chance to linger. Grasping his arm, she drew him forcefully away. "This is reckless. We must return at once."

From a distance, Vael watched the exchange, the faint shapes of his runes pulsing as his emotions churned. He remained silent, hidden in the deeper shadows. A subtle pang—regret, curiosity, longing—flickered within him as he saw Azarel disappear into the sky with the rest of the angels.

Once in the safety of Asphodel's resplendent domain, Seraphine marched Azarel through the marble corridors, chastising him for his absence. She spoke of unity, duty, and the necessity of perfect discipline in a time of war. Though he nodded and voiced agreement, his mind drifted back to the relic in his grasp.

He could still feel its peculiar hum, thrumming against his palm with a gentle insistence. Anxiety and fascination mingled in his chest. Though he wanted to forget, he could not deny the enigma that radiated from Kur'thaal—and the strange pull it now had on him.

With each step that carried him deeper into Asphodel's endless light, he wondered if he had glimpsed more than just a piece of twisted metal in the darkness. "There is something else out there," he thought. "Something calling to me."