They found the stream soon after and followed its course, shallow and slow-moving, for hours, the passing of time marked by the changes in the colour of the mist and light.

Astrid dragged her feet at Azrael's side, letting him carry more of her weight as the time progressed. She was exhausted and dispirited, walking through the fog without ever getting a glimpse of their destination felt almost pointless. What was the reason for anything... apart from Azrael's closeness, the kisses he pulled her in for often enough to remind her that maybe there was hope for them beyond this place, that happiness existed.

When the pearly light of the day morphed into the silver-streaked blackness of the night, they reached shores of a large, shallow lake.

"Is this place safe enough?" Azrael asked Ramiel, who insisted they spend the night right there, on the bank.

"You know as well as I do that it's as safe as any other place. There's no spot to hide in Oblivis, apart from the White Tower. If it was only the two of us, we could go on, but they need to rest. We'll sleep on the bedrolls, forget about the tents, and we'll move on again as soon as there's enough light to walk safely."

Azrael nodded, even as Astrid muttered, her eyes intent on the smooth surface of the water rippling gently in a non-existent breeze, "I'd like to bathe."

"We should all bathe. It will make us feel better," Azrael said, looking at Ramiel and Rigel. The sadness and despair filling Oblivis was getting to all of them.

"You two go first, but keep close. We'll set up camp," Ramiel said.

Astrid rummaged through her bag in search of something clean to wear after the bath, coming up with the last undershirt. She would have to reuse the same dress again, and seeing that the men decided against the tents, she would have to sleep in it, too. Sighing, she pulled a couple of towels from underneath her clothes and books, the sight of the two volumes giving her pause. It felt so long since she had left the castle, those books seemed to belong into another person's life. Opening the Book of Angel's, she found the letter addressed to Michael among its pages. That's why she was here, to deliver this mysterious piece of paper...

"Are you ready, Astrid?" Azrael asked, his eyes darting into the silvery semi-darkness surrounding them in search of danger.

She dropped the book back inside the bag, then accepted his hand, letting him lead her towards the water's edge, to a place hidden from view of their companions by one of the outcrops of rock which seemed to be everywhere in Oblivis.

Astrid shed her dress quickly, and not feeling brave enough to remove her undershirt in front of Azrael, she walked shoulder deep into the cool water before she took off the rest of her clothes, and threw them back on the shore.

"And what was the point of getting your clothes wet?" he asked, his voice laced with laughter, as he picked her long shirt and underwear up and spread them on the rock to dry. "You could just have asked me to turn around if you didn't want me to see you."

She shrugged, feeling a blush spread over her cheeks. That had really been silly of her. Sometimes, she felt like a child in the presence of this... eternal... angel. Sometimes, her mind refused to wrap up around what he was. But, stripped of all names... and clothes, shrouded by the night and the water of the lake... they were just a man and a woman who had fallen in love. The thought made her feel braver and happier. She might not know what would happen tomorrow, but tonight, they were together.

"You said that you would bathe too," she said when he didn't move, apart from his eyes darting into the darkness.

He sighed, and in Astrid's ears, it was a tortured sound, making her loathe the distance between them. They didn't have much time left.

Even without being able to read her thoughts, it seemed that Azrael could still understand her perfectly.

He removed his clothes and reached her in the water within seconds, his body wrapping around her tightly, hers moulding into him to fill every single gap as his lips found hers.

His closeness was perfection, the feel of his bare skin touching hers, with no barriers between them, was making her feel dizzy, his hands caressing her body with gentle reverence were making her feel unsure on her legs. Astrid wished that the moment would never end.

But a sound of movement reaching them from somewhere on the distant shore startled her and made her pull away from him to look around. For those few moments of bliss, she had forgotten entirely where they were and how dangerous this place was.

"There," Azrael said, nodding towards the opposite shore.

Turning in his arms as she followed his look, Astrid noticed a herd of animals approaching the water, the one closest to it beginning to drink, its hooves splashing in the shallows.

Astrid gasped; she had never seen animals like these. They looked like very tall, skeletal horses with huge, bulging eyes, their dark, leathery skin stretched tightly over their bones, huge, bat-like wings thrumming above them as they drank.

"Are they... Thestrals?" Astrid asked, unable to look away from them. They were magnificent, breathtakingly beautiful in their own, eerily haunting way.

Azrael chuckled softly, his warm breath landing on her neck making her shiver, reminding her that they were alone together, shoulder deep in the lake, nothing but the thinnest layer of water between them... She let her body sink back into him, letting his large hands spread around her waist to hold her upright, her feet suddenly incapable of finding purchase on the slippery ground.

His sharp intake of breath at feeling her closeness took her own breath away as he replied, "They are kestrels, the real creatures that served as inspiration for the thestrals."

"Do you know Rowling's books?" Astrid asked, her initial surprise turning into amusement quickly. Azrael didn't seem like someone who would appreciate that writer's books.

"I've read everything you've read," he said, his lips brushing against the column of her neck. "You... intrigued me since the moment I first saw you. I wanted to know you as well as I could..."

"Why are they here?" Astrid asked, blushing as she heard the disappointment in her voice when he pulled his lips away from her and wrapped his arms tightly around her, forcing them both into stillness. But he was right, of course. This was hardly the place to...

"They are here because they were forgotten in your world. No one believes in them any longer."

It didn't make sense... And then it did. All things connected to Azrael were based on beliefs, rather than facts, dreams rather than reality.

"It's not only them, is it?" she asked after he led her out of the water once the herd had drunk and vanished into the night, his hand tight around hers as they waded through the shallows and stumbled onto the shore.

Astrid hoped that her voice didn't shake, that he wouldn't notice the hitch in her breathing as she closed her eyes and let him dry her, the blush suffusing her cheeks as he helped her get dressed-- it was never completely dark in Oblivis and Azrael's faint glow was making the strange night even brighter.

"No," he said, getting dressed quickly once she was ready. "There are unicorns, dragons and wyverns, and others."

He collected all their things, and they made their way around the stone outcrop towards the camp. Then he tensed suddenly, crouching behind the boulder, pulling her down with him.

"What's going on?" Astrid whispered, her heart beating in her ears.

"The undead," he replied, pressing his finger to his lips, standing up to be able to see beyond the rocks.

Then she heard them too-- the shuffling of their feet, the groans they used to communicate, the deep, rattling breaths they took to navigate through space, their sense of smell compensating for their lack of sight.

Astrid sprang to her feet, refusing to hide when her friends were in danger. She shivered at what she saw-- Ramiel and Rigel sitting huddled together on the bedrolls, the fallen angel's arms wrapped around the human, as if he hoped to trick the zombies by covering Rigel's scent with his own. But they wouldn't be fooled, Astrid saw how they moved around the two, coming closer and closer... Without thinking, she grabbed a piece of rock from under her feet and threw it at the closest zombie, making them all forget about Rigel as they, as one, turned her way.

Azrael wrapped his arms around her, but it was too late. The group of the undead started shuffling towards Astrid, their unseeing eyes intent on her.

She wasn't feeling scared. Azrael's closeness did not make her feel invincible but fearless; if she were to lay her life for her friend, so be it. There were worse ways to die, she mused, observing the zombies' faces, still looking shockingly alive despite their deathly pallor, transformed into hideous masks in their craving of human life.

Azrael pushed her behind him, shielding her with his body as the undead approached. But they didn't come too close when one of Ramiel's arrows slid smoothly through one of them, making the corpse collapse even as a gunshot exploded through the silvery semi-darkness, the sound ricocheting off the invisible stone walls surrounding them, reminding Astrid that they were underground, making her realise that Rigel had kept Orion's gun...

Confusion followed. The rest of the zombies screamed in cacophony, the noise so high that Astrid had to cover her ears, then scattered into the night.

Her legs gave way, and she crumpled to the rocky ground, not quite sure about what had just happened.

"Hush," she heard Azrael's gentle voice as he kneeled in front of her, wiping the tears she did not feel running down her cheeks with his thumbs. "Don't. Ever. Do that again," he said, kissing her, then pulling her to her feet and lifting her into his arms when they reached the two bodies lying on the ground.

"What shall we do with them?" She heard Ramiel ask, her face buried deep in Azrael's chest.

"I don't care. But pack up and let us move on. We can't stay here. It's too dangerous."

Astrid knew that she should walk, that she was probably too heavy for Azrael, but his scent, and the rhythm of his footsteps lulled her into a place where nothing but his nearness really mattered before she could make her mind to remove herself from his arms.

"I... love you, Azrael," she whispered after a long while, her words slurred with sleep as he carried her through the semi-darkness, away from the lake.

"I love you, Astrid," he replied without a moment of doubt, only the shadow of grief in his voice suggesting that maybe it would have been better if this love hadn't happened to the two of them.