The priests: Nyras
Varaxador's temple wasn't far from the East Gate, so they were quickly in the Red Pains. The name of the plains was coming from the fact that all the plants in there were rather reddish, if not frankly red. Of course, countless legends had a way to explain the rather odd colour and the most frequent reason was the reference to a very ancient battle that had been so deadly and bloody that the soil had been stained forever. There had been battles in theses plains, there was no doubt about it - since it was quite easy to find proofs of them - but Tyrael doubted frankly any of them could be at the origin of the plants colour.
Nobody was going their way. The East Gate was quite rarely used; people rather used the Sisanfri Gate, near the South Gate, so they would go along the Whispering Forest, straight to Sisanfri. This town had the particularity of not having any temple in it - once again multiple legends explained the fact. Sisanfri was a free-religious town and no temple was allowed. Vitriana's priests, never discouraged, had built their temple just after the North Gate and roads had been designed to give an easy access to Jeniah - for Shuqra's and Varaxador's temples - and even to Chyraz's temple in the Whispering Forest, along with the Eastern Trail to go to Rishaki.
The Red Plains were boring; there wasn't any tree, one could see around from every direction, so no surprise attack could be planned. Tyrael sighed when looking at the Misty Mounts.
"Let me guess," he said less than enthusiastically. "Nyras's temple is on the top of the highest peak?"
"Exactly. How did you know?"
"It's always like that..." grumbled Tyrael.
They were almost at the bottom of the Misty Mounts and, a bit more north, there were ruins that Tyrael guessed were those from Zubaran's temple.
"Is your Cinnabar intelligent enough to be able to go somewhere without you leading him?"
"Of course!"
"With the gelding?"
"Yes. What do you have in mind?"
"Dismount and tell him to go wait for us in the Verdant Plains, just at the bottom of the Misty Mounts."
"You mean north of Vitriana's temple?"
"Exactly. Precisely."
"If you want. But it will take us forever to reach Nyras's temple without the horses."
"Not at all, trust me. So are you going to tell him or do you intend to look at me for the rest of the day? I tell you now, I'm not going to like it. I hate having people staring at me."
Surprise almost made her dumb. Then she shook the head.
"You're crazy."
Nevertheless she talked to Cinnabar and, after a long glare to Tyrael, the stallion accepted to leave, with the gelding and even Yawni, though the rovelsh didn't appreciate it the least.
"It will be a miracle if I find them both alive when we reach that point," she sighed. "Alright, winged boy, what's your plan? I'm not very trusting, so don't make me regret to have trusted you. Cin will not be happy if so."
"Well, I thought maybe I could shorten our way to Nyras's temple," he said casually.
Delilah looked at him a short moment before understanding, then a wide smile - quite tinged with disbelief - appeared on her lips.
"Are you meaning what I think you're meaning?"
"Are you up to see how is earth looking from above?" he asked, smiling.
She laughed, throwing her head back, and Tyrael's breath caught in his throat.
"Are you really going to do this?" she asked, still laughing.
"Naturally. I thought every human wanted to be able to fly. Is it not your case?"
It seemed she couldn't stop laughing and when he lifted her in his arms, she was still laughing. She had her arms around his neck and she could feel his muscles contract as he was taking off. As soon as they were in the airs, she stopped laughing and looked around with wonder. Tyrael hid his smile; there was something she was not blasé about.
"I see Cin, the gelding and Yawni," she said and he was surprised she could look down without clutching tighter to him.
He looked down also, saw the two horses and the rovelsh and then looked at her. She seemed perfectly at ease and the wonder had disappeared of her face. He wondered if Azrael had already made her fly. Probably not; a one-time experience was generally enough for Delilah to seem blasé.
"I'm guessing Azrael didn't make you share this," he said.
"No," she replied, slightly shaking the head. "We were trying not to draw the attention to us."
"A wise decision," he approved.
They could already see Nyras's temple, half-hidden in the mountains. Tyrael landed a bit below, on the narrow path.
"What is Nyras's test?" he asked, letting go of Delilah.
"Blindness. Am I going to intervene as the impartial judge I'm supposed to be or will I let my emotions lead me? I never manage the test anyway."
"Like Varaxador's?"
"Today was the first time for White Aura."
"I know," said Tyrael enigmatically. "I guessed. I think I can help you again with Nyras's test."
"Why would you?" she asked aggressively.
"Angels need an impartial judge, if not we are already in a bad position."
"Why do you say that?" she asked, her face undecipherable.
"Because we trapped your mother and put our own guilt on your shoulders."
"You see me as a victim, don't you?"
"Are you not?"
"Maybe. But then maybe not. I may be someone tricking you and manipulating you."
"Then pity on us if a mere human can blindfold us!"
"I'm serious, Tyrael."
"I am too. If I let myself be deluded by a human then I deserve my fate. Do you agree to let me help you in Nyras's temple?"
"It's probably highly irregular, you know."
"And then what? Are they going to send me in a prison for Archangels?"
Delilah smiled.
"Alright, I will be glad to have you helping me."
"You won't see me, but you may feel me. Do not panic," he added with a wink, knowing perfectly she wouldn't.
She didn't reply.
Nobody was guarding the temple but, as usual, she knew where to go. Tyrael wondered how she had done the very first time, since Lilith had never deigned go to the priests; he wondered also if Eilena had helped her, since she had been her second mother.
The room she entered was so small that it was almost like a confessional. Delilah knelt on the ground, taking her favourite position, eyes closed, and she didn't even start when two ghostly hands gently came on her shoulders. She knew that if she was to open her eyes and look behind her, she wouldn't see anybody, so she remained calm and still. The pressure of Tyrael's hands on her shoulders was as light as a bird feather, but his presence in her mind was very heavy. Despite what he had said to her, despite her usual control, she began to panic: he was in her thoughts, he could know everything and she thought miserably she didn't want him to.
But his soft voice repeated to her:
"Do no panic."
She relaxed slightly and felt him push her thoughts away, without touching them. She thought:
"He's an Archangel, he cannot force my privacy or harm me."
Slowly, progressively, she relaxed and the hatred she fought every conscious moment against melted away. Tyrael pushed it away and replaced it with pure indifference.
"It's going to work," she thought again. "They always refused me because of that hatred. They always refused to understand it."
Once Tyrael was done with her, she was in perfect equilibrium but she didn't know if her calm was hers or Tyrael's. She was between the two worlds, hating none, loving none, just watching them, like her bracelet symbolised it, with the silver and the onyx, for the Angels and the Demons.
"You are calm today, Guardian of Moen," said a voice.
She opened slowly her eyes and saw a priest of Nyras in front of her.
"I've never felt you so calm; it's almost... supernatural."
"Does he know?" she wondered, though her face didn't show her worry.
"He cannot," replied Tyrael in the silence of her mind.
"Are you in balance today, Demon's child?" continued Nyras's priest.
"I have always been, as my bracelet indicates it."
"The bracelet does not read the soul," objected the priest.
"Maybe not, but it judges the actions and from its composition, it says my actions were fair to both sides, which means I have not given the advantage to the Demons, in spite of what everybody expected from me."
She spoke without passion, calmly, strangely detached from everything and yet she knew that without Tyrael, resentment, bitterness and accusation would have shown in her voice. The priest was surprised by the lack of feelings in her little speech and he wondered if she was at last resigned to the unresignable.
"And what do you see with your impartial eyes now, Demon's child?"
"I see Angels and Demons, two sides of the same thing. Angels assure the order as it is defined now; Demons will bring chaos, but ultimately they would re-establish a new order. We Guardians seek order. Demons could reach Heaven and give back to the Grigori their lost place."
"Do not call them so," said the priest nervously.
"We Guardians call an Angel an Angel and a Demon a Demon."
"There's another name for them, less dangerous."
"The danger of a name is only linked to what you think it can do."
She was still very detached; Tyrael had given her a new balance, but the words were hers, for she had felt him panic at the idea of the Grigori back in Heaven.
"The demon society holds no hypocrisy," she continued and Tyrael knew she had taken this from his thoughts, "and we humans would appreciate this and being closer to the supernatural world."
"Having the Demons wander free on the mortal world! That would go against all your trainings!" exclaimed the priest.
"Not all that is in me," replied calmly Delilah.
Tyrael could feel the priest's fear and he wondered what part in Delilah would rejoice if the Demons were free.
"What do you want from us, Guardian?" the priest asked wearily.
"I offer you a deal: I keep alive the order you know and you set one soul at peace."
"We do not deal with dead..." began the priest.
"I'm talking about justice. Will you give justice to my mother if I succeed?"
"Don't you want justice for your name also?"
"My name is cursed since the beginning, let it be that way. Will you clear my mother's name?"
"If you succeed, we will."
"All is good then."
She would have showed relief if the calm and indifference Tyrael had put on her had allowed any feeling. The priest looked still troubled as she was standing up.
"Child... I know your vision was impartial, but everything in the demon world is not as good as it seems."
"Believe me, father, it's no more corrupted than the angelic world."
She left, letting the priest suddenly wondering if his cause was just.
As soon as they came out of the temple, Tyrael let Delilah be herself again but she didn't lose her indifference.
"You went a bit too far with the impartiality. I thought we were supposed to be the good side."
"If the Demons had the power and you were fighting for getting the supremacy, you would be evil."
"But they possess people, are monsters!"
"Not worse than some human tyrannies under your rule. We've always known your order so we humans try to keep it because we do not know anything else and the unknown frightens us."
"We won the original fight because virtue was leading us!"
"No, because you were better organised. Believe me, if I had been the strategist of the demon armies, you would have lost."
"That's not very modest," grinned Tyrael.
"It has nothing to do with modesty or pride, but with facts and the fact is I'm a good strategist."
Tyrael didn't reply; he knew Lilith enough to be sure she had trained properly her daughter. They went down the Misty Mounts to the Verdant Plains and it was easier to Tyrael than going up to Nyras's temple. He was simply gliding on descending currents, which was less tiring to him.
Cinnabar, Yawni and the gelding were waiting for them. Delilah noticed immediately the long scratch on Cinnabar's flank and the painful limping of Yawni's left hinder leg, but the two animals tried to look so perfectly innocent she didn't say anything.
"Thank you for the flight," she said.
"Welcome. I hope you liked it."
"Oh sure! Feel free to propose it again."
"I will remember this," he said seriously.
Delilah looked at the Verdant Plains with a sigh.
"I hate those plains," she muttered.
"Because of the furry balls jumping on you all the time?" asked Tyrael innocently.
She eyed him suspiciously.
"You took classes on the geography of Moen while I was dead?"
"No, but I could have. I was told of the particular wildlife in the Verdant Plains."
"Lilith?" she guessed.
He looked embarrassed.
"I didn't want to..."
"I know. I appreciate the attention. Did she tell you how to avoid them?" she asked, interested.
"No. She was laughing when speaking of them, that's all."
They both had the impression to hear Lilith's merry ringing laugh in their head and they could read in each other's eyes what they were feeling.
"We should go," said Delilah briskly and the infinite regret in her eyes disappeared brutally.
Tyrael nodded.
"Oh, one last thing. Cin and Yawni, if you ever fight each other ever again, I swear you'll regret it dearly. Is it understood?"
Both the stallion and the rovelsh had a sheepish look.
"Don't try to fool me," she said severely. "It is understood?"
With a great sigh, Cinnabar moved his head as to agree and Yawni lay on the ground, head on his forepaws.
"Good. I'm glad to see you're reasonable."
Cinnabar came to bury his nose in her stomach and Yawni hid his muzzle in her hand. She laughed softly and strangely, for the first time, Tyrael heard some of Lilith in her laugh. She looked up at him and she knew almost instantly what he was thinking. Her lips tightened a bit but she didn't say a word. She jumped on Cinnabar's back without touching the stirrups.
"Are you coming?"
"Isn't it going to be dark while we will be in the middle of the Verdant Plains?"
Delilah looked at the sun, blinking a little.
"Hmm. Good point. I'm too used to come back around midday from Nyras's temple. Alright, we will stay here for the night."
She led Cinnabar toward the mountains with just the pressure of her knees on his shoulders; Yawni looked utterly disappointed and Tyrael guessed he liked to hunt the furry balls living in the Verdant Plains. He wondered if the funny creatures had a name safe 'furry balls'; maybe Delilah knew. He found strange that, he, an Archangel, had to ask a human to know something but after all, it was her world.
"Do the furry balls have a real name?" he asked aloud.
"Funny you should ask, I was just thinking of it. Mother was always calling them the furry balls or hairy balls, but the name of their species is jonguers."
"And you hate them."
"That's an understatement. The jonguers are carnivores, winged boy, and I don't really like letting Cin's legs near their fangs."
"The rovelshes are carnivores too."
"The rovelshes are organised, they don't jump on everything that moves. The jonguers do. If you harm a rovelsh, the whole tribe will let you alone to care for the wounded - or kill you. Harm a furry ball, the others will continue to attack you, after having devoured their wounded fellow creature, of course."
"They are cannibals too?"
"Oh, yes, did I forget to mention it?"
"Yes. I think I'm going to have the same opinion as you on them."
"I frankly wonder why," she said with a carnivorous smile.
She found what she was looking for and deigned dismount. She looked at Yawni.
"Did you hunt for our dinner at least, instead of quarrelling with Cinnabar?" she asked him.
The rovelsh fell flat on the ground looking crestfallen.
"I'm disappointed, Yawni," said Delilah, trying to sound serious.
She burst out laughing.
"Well," she said merrily, "it seems that after skipping lunch, we are going to skip dinner also. Do you mind?"
Tyrael shrugged.
"Not really. But the horses and Yawni?"
"Yawni is responsible of our starvation, so he'll support the consequences," she replied with a grin. "Cin and the gelding can find food around. Yawni, don't look at me like that, if you're hungry, go hunt!"
But the rovelsh stood firmly, returning her gaze, and she sighed.
"Woe is me! Sometimes I just hate clever animals."
"What did he 'say'?" inquired Tyrael.
"You really want to know?"
"Well, yes."
"He doesn't trust you. He thinks you're going to do something to me - like, turning me into an Angel, I guess - as soon as he'll turn his back and, of course, he doesn't trust Cinnabar for protecting me."
"Oh, I see. Maybe I should accompany him then?"
"Certainly not. He will attack you at once."
"Rovelshes don't know the word 'gratitude'," grumbled Tyrael.
"They do, but I'm Daughter of the Rovelshes, so they protest me like one of their pups."
"Ah! You never told me this."
"I forgot."
"Humph," said Tyrael, not convinced.
"That reminds me... Yawni, go hunt; I'll be safe. If you do not go, I'll break the bond."
Terror appeared in Yawni's eyes; he glared at Tyrael, holding him responsible of the threat, and left running.
"Wow, efficient! Why this terror?"
"If I break the bond while he's with me, he'll be guilty and the elder will punish him. Believe me, you don't want to know how. I certainly don't."
"What is it?"
"It's called the Hundred Pains and, for the little I've heard about it, it's terrible. Compared to it, Yawni's state before you healed him was a joke."
"Alright, you're right, I don't want to know."
Delilah sat at the entrance of a small cave and Tyrael, without being invited, sat by her.
"A house in the rock?" he said with a smile.
She didn't answer immediately and then, dreamily, she said:
"Do you remember the riddle about the house of the wise and the one of the fool?"
"The wise builds his house on the rock and the fool on the sand?"
"Yes. Sandcastles... Sometimes I have the impression my life is a sandcastle. I build it very carefully, with all my heart and then I go to sleep, but when I wake up I have to start all over again because the tide washed it away..."
"Delilah..." he said carefully.
She had a weary smile.
"Don't mind me. My melancholic mood. It comes sometimes, but does not stay long."
He wanted to say something but she interrupted him again, softly:
"I know I'll sound like a fool, but would you tell me something? When I'll die, would you come to say farewell to me before the Demons take my soul?"
She remained quiet a moment while Tyrael, stunned, couldn't utter a word.
"Tell me you will, lie to me, I don't care, promise me you will and do the sign that inverses promises, but tell me you will, please. Even if you don't come. Just so I'll have something to look for..."
"Delilah..."
She looked up at him.
"Please?"
There was a fragility in her eyes that he had never seen before. He put his hands on her shoulders, slowly, carefully.
"I will come, Delilah, this I promise to you. I'll come and you can see my fingers do not do the sign inversing promises. I'll come, but I won't let Demons take your soul. I will lead your soul to Heaven, where you will be given wings."
She was looking at him and her lower lip trembled a little.
"Thank you," she said finally as her vulnerability was fading away, "but I fear you'll find Demons less than cooperative to give you my soul. It has been promised to them a long time ago."
"Did you promise it yourself?"
"I wasn't born yet."
"Then your soul will be mine."
"Who so?"
"Because I claim it as the Angel of Guardians."
"A fight over my soul," said Delilah with a wry smile. "I would never have imagined that."
Tyrael gave up; he knew better than argue when she was in that mood. Without a word he lay on the ground and never saw the expression that passed quickly on Delilah's face.
He didn't sleep well; strange images haunted his dreams, like a court in Heaven, chaired by Mettatron, leader of the Seraphim, and Raziel, leader of the Cherubim. All the great Archangels he knew were there too, Camael, Michael, Raphael, Gabriel, even Azrael - who hated general gatherings - though he looked very serious by that time. He couldn't see the defendant, nor hear the accusations, but it was obvious it was very serious. He woke up, quite distressed. Delilah was still sitting at the cave entrance, Cinnabar nibbling lovingly her hair while she had her arm around Yawni's neck and petted him absent-mindedly. She was tense and he thought:
"Two more temples to go to and after, everything is on her shoulders. Is it what she fears?"
"Why can't you sleep, Tyrael?" she asked without looking back.
"Bad dreams," he replied succinctly.
"Ah. This place is called the Cave of Dreams and Zubaran's priests used to come sleep here once a month."
"I thought the temple was in the Red Plains."
"They discovered the Cave after building the temple. That's probably why they only came once a month."
"So the dream I had was a vision?"
"I don't know. For what I've heard, you can have visions or mere dreams - or nightmares. Only Zubaran's priests are able to make the difference. Why do you think I don't sleep in that cave?"
"Then why did you let me sleep in?" he riposted.
She had a light smile.
"Not everybody is sensitive to the powers of the Cave. I didn't think you would, I'm sorry."
"That's alright."
He came by her side, quietly pushing away Yawni who protested - but no one listened to him.
"Did Yawni have a good hunt?" he asked conversationally.
"Yes; he even brought back something for us, if you're hungry."
"For you, you mean?"
"No, no, for us. Yawni knows perfectly I would give you my share if you hadn't anything to eat, so he hunted for both of us."
"Ah, I knew there was a catch," smiled Tyrael.
"One can do weird things to protect a loved one."
"What is the something he brought? A jonguer?" he asked, feeling the subject was delicate.
"Exactly."
"I'm not hungry," he declared immediately. "What do you have to expect from Vitriana's priests?"
"Answers to ten of our questions... but tortuous. Sometimes Vitriana's priests can compete with Zubaran's as for the convoluted sentences. They have at least ten copies of the Divine Oracles and they probably are the only ones to know it by heart. Even Zubaran's priests took great care to lose their copy and forget every prophecy ever made."
Tyrael laughed.
"That's not nice for Zubaran and Jarlinn who took so long to enounce those prophecies!"
"Oh, Zubaran forgot them all too; he always looks surprised when you quote the Divine Oracles or so I was told. I have some doubts Jarlinn may not have forgotten them, but you never know."
"If they answer your questions, why don't you ask them if you are going to win? Or what is the terrible thing Furtifer's priests punished you for?"
"The first one cannot be answered by Vitriana's priests; they know the past and the present, but not the future. As for the second one... it's probably forbidden by Furtifer and, anyway, I'm not sure I want to know."
"I can understand."
Delilah was looking at the stars in the sky and didn't reply. Yawni tried to make his way back between Tyrael and the girl, but, as no one was moving, he ended up half-lying on Delilah's legs.
"You are worse than a pup, Yawni," she said without looking down.
He began to 'purr', trying to hide his muzzle under Delilah's hand until she scratched his ears. Cinnabar snorted with disdain, as if reproving this lack of dignity.
"What did you dream of, if I may ask?"
Her voice sounded far away.
"The angelic court. There was a... a trial, I think, though I didn't see the defendants and I don't know why there was a trial. But they were all there, Seraphim, Cherubim and Archangels."
"Ah! I was afraid of it. You see, I had that dream when I slept in the Cave of Dreams."
"When was it?"
"Nine years ago, when I began my first journey to see the priests because I was become the Guardian of Moen. I didn't sleep here ever since."
"You think our dreams are connected? That it's a vision?"
"I don't know. That's a question we could ask to the priests of Vitriana. They will know."
"I thought Zubaran's only knew..."
"No, I mean the fact that two people had the same dream with nine years between them. Does that make it a vision?"
"You didn't ask Azrael about that?"
"No, you see, he was in my vision and he looked so serious, I thought that if I was the defendant, for him to look like this, surely I had done something terrible! So I didn't ask him, because he would have told me there was nothing he couldn't forgive me and this time, I wouldn't have believed him..."
"He said you liked Irlenuit's test, along with her knights. Are you one of her knights?"
"No, but I wish I was! If I could choose my god, I would choose her. Something I like with Irlenuit - and her priests - is that you can tell her anything, nobody else but her and you will know it."
"Aye, silence is rare for a woman," said Tyrael teasingly. "Even more when it's about a secret."
"Humph," said Delilah. "Sometimes long talks hide more secrets than two words every week."
He wondered if she was referring to herself; he had thought she was getting more open, more trusting. Was she only answering most of his questions so he wouldn't become too curious about those unanswered?
"What could you tell her that nobody else knows?" he asked on a light tone.
Her face had a strange expression that vanished so quickly he doubted to have seen it.
"It's too early for you to know."
"When will it be time?" he inquired, knowing he was half-right.
"Soon. Much too soon."
She seemed very unhappy about it.
"If you want," he offered, "just forget about it and don't tell me."
"No. I can't... and I think you should know; I don't know what will come from this though."
"Go to sleep, Delilah. I will lay the cloak of sleep upon you."
"What is it? Like a dream-catcher?"
"No, it makes you invisible to dreams, so you won't dream at all."
"Why didn't you use it on yourself?" asked Delilah, yawning.
"Because I usually don't dream so I didn't expect it in here."
"You don't dream? Angels don't dream?" she said, her eyes wide open.
"I don't know for the others, but I'm a non-dreamer Archangel. It isn't that bad, really: you can't miss what you never had. And you have to admit that the example I just got does nothing to show me what I may be missing."
"Are you going to sleep too?" she asked, yawning again.
"No. I have to warn you: the cloak of sleep provokes a deep sleep and you cannot awake by yourself from it. Someone had to wake you up. But you are tired and I thought..."
"That maybe I would trust you enough to let you put on me a deep sleep from which I may never awake."
"No! Cinnabar and Yawni wouldn't let that happen!"
"That's a good plan, you know," mused Delilah. "One good, three bad and you put one bad to sleep to block the two others. Total: three out of the game!"
"You're not bad!"
"Alright, let's just say I'm mostly chaotic good," she grinned.
Tyrael recognised the reference to a popular game but refused to give in her cheerful tone.
"I'm not having this conversation with you," he said firmly, laying the cloak of sleep on her.
She fell asleep immediately, collapsing on her cloak on the ground. Yawni growled and jumped on Tyrael, who stopped him dead just by saying:
"If you ever want her to awake, you better not touch me!"
Yawni looked at him in terror.
"She's in my power now, friend rovelsh," he said softly. "So be nice and everything will be fine."
Submitted Yawni followed him like his shadow, his nose touching Tyrael's heels. Cinnabar neighed interrogatively and the Archangel slowly winked to him. Was it an effect of the light or his imagination, but he had the impression to see him wink back: Cinnabar appreciated Yawni's presence as much as Tyrael and, as the Archangel thought gloomily, there was no better friend than a foe of one's foe...
He pace the whole night long, followed by his four-legged shadow, slightly worried, for it was the first time ever he cast this spell. He remembered the story of an Angel always in a hurry - some dreamers said it was an absent-minded fairy! - who had cast the spell on a maiden begging for sleep and who had forgotten her during one hundred years before having the time to wake her up. Tyrael didn't believe the story, naturally - wasn't the maiden supposed to age during her sleep? - but he certainly didn't want to forget Delilah - not that he could anyway.
The sun slowly rose and Tyrael looked at the swaying of the tall grass in front of him. Yawni moaned, his muzzle on Tyrael's right foot. The Archangel sighed, looked at the pleading eyes of the rovelsh, sighed again and made a simple gesture toward the cave. Immediately Yawni ran there, licking the face of Delilah who woke up with a groan.
"Yawni, go away, silly..."
A few moments later she was by Tyrael's side.
"Good morning," the Archangel greeted her, still looking at the Verdant Plains. "How was your night?"
"Dreamless. Were Yawni and Cin good?"
"Cinnabar was very nice and, after some explanations, Yawni decided to stick to my steps. I'm wondering if my calves have a particularly attracting smell."
Tyrael's tone was very casual, Cinnabar seemed very amused - to say the least - and Yawni looked offended. Delilah sighed.
"Sometimes I hate clever animals and clever Archangels."
"I thank you for the compliment, my lady, but certainly not for the thought," said Tyrael, mockingly bowing.
She glared at him.
"How can you be not serious? Demons are threatening humankind and you are laughing!"
Tyrael sighed.
"Back to the beginning," he said, his good mood suddenly gone.
He walked away, throwing the saddle on the gelding's back. A strange expression passed on Delilah's face, to vanish immediately, but she didn't say a word.
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