A flutter of wings stirred Astrid from sleep, a whisper of feathers so soft as if it belonged to her dream.

Or maybe it was the flutter of the fabric Rigel's balloon was made of... Her heart thrashed against her ribs like a caged bird, her lungs struggled for air as she recalled the vision-- in her dream, their balloon fell into the sea and Astrid was drowning, the rainbow-coloured envelope morphed into a spiderweb she could not escape, trapping her, pulling her underneath the cold, agitated water.

As she sat up on the bed observing her surroundings, remembering where she was, she heard the soft flutter again. What was it?

"Are you all right, Lady?" Azrael's voice seeped through the fabric of the curtain, startling her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he added as if he could feel her panic either from the sound of her crazily beating heart or her racing thoughts.

"What are you doing out there?" she whispered, deciding quickly that the fire was burning so low that the angel wouldn't see what a mess she looked, just awoken. "Come in," she added, unable to resist.

Azrael chuckled softly, setting her cheeks ablaze when he walked in through the heavy curtain without bothering to move it aside; two doves perched side by side on his shoulder.

Astrid smiled at the sight, wondering if they were the same pair she used to find in her castle's library, even as one of them flew towards her, cooing, expecting her to feed it. She reached out towards the table that stood behind the bed, remembering her uneaten dinner, reducing a piece of bread into crumbs, then offering them to the white bird who studied her expectantly.

"They always liked you," Azrael observed as the second dove left his shoulder to join the first, who was now pecking at the crumbs on Astrid's bed.

Astrid smiled at him, then shivered as the memory of the doves pulled another into the forefront of her mind, the memory of his bow ready to send an arrow into her heart through a crowded ballroom, the bow she could see even now slung across his back.

She could hear the hitch in his breath when the image reached his mind and he removed the bow, dropping it on the floor next to the entrance before he approached her, saying, "It wasn't personal, and I'll never forgive myself for it."

He ran his hand through his blond hair in a gesture of discomfort which made Astrid want to abandon the subject, even though she wanted to know why he had tried to kill her, why the fallen angels killed her people every Black Night.

"Only demons, Lady, and humans of demon descent who sympathise with them. No one else. We believed that you, Arcturus' niece, were as much of a demon as he, but I know now that your demon part is insignificant... Arcturus and your fiancé, on the other hand, descend from the last few ancient bloodlines; they are almost pure-blood demons."

Demons... Astrid started to shake her head. It sounded impossible... But what if he was telling her the truth? She already accepted the existence of fallen angels; she was on her way to meet an archangel... Seeing that Azrael was willing to talk, she patted the place on the bed freed by the doves who were now perched on a tall bookcase on the other side of the room which Astrid had not noticed before.

"My book says that you, the fallen angels, are demons. The angels who sinned, and thus were banished from Heaven," she said even as he sat down, so very close to her that it took all her will not reach out and touch him. Why was it so difficult to keep her distance from him? What was he doing to her?

A ghost of a smile fluttered over Azrael's lips before he replied, "That's a very simplified truth. Yes, some people call us demons, but there's a difference. The true demons were cast out from Heaven for having committed a sin, and then, unrepentant, they repeated their sins until they lost their souls and any trace of their angel magic. All that remained to them, what they pass on their offspring, is a talent of manipulation, persuasion, the power to make others believe that they still have the powers they don't possess any longer, making them see what they want them to believe. That's why your uncle..."

"... keeps Deimos," Astrid guessed, remembering the power of the sorceress' magic, the way she spoke into her mind without her uncle noticing. "He uses her magic. Does he keep her against her will? Is she an angel?"

"She's a human of angel descent, like the 'witches' Arcturus persecutes out of fear that they might join us and turn against him. But I don't know why Deimos stays with him; she must have a very good reason. I couldn't read her mind on the few occasions when I met her in your castle. She knows how to protect her thoughts," he said thoughtfully. "She knew about my presence, and yet she never said anything to anyone..."

"She told me to find Michael," Astrid said.

Azrael's forehead creased in thought at hearing that, but Astrid pushed on, not giving him time to think. She had other questions, she needed to know about Orion.

"Are they all bad?" Astrid asked, blush creeping up her cheeks again as she felt him reading her mind to understand what the question really meant.

"Not all of them, and not entirely. However, they can justify even their most cruel actions. They do not feel remorse, and they are incapable of loving. That's why they say that love doesn't exist."

Astrid inhaled deeply and opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. She didn't know what to say to that; if she liked it or not, it was all making sense. So Orion really did not love her, he couldn't... She shivered, pulling the blankets closer around her as Azrael continued.

"And this is not happening only in Eurovea. Kings and queens, presidents, politicians, and the most influential people of the whole world are of demon descent. You can ask any of the people living in these caves; some of them came here from countries where humans of angel descent are even more cruelly persecuted than in your kingdom."

"Is that why you kill them? Is that the reason for all those wars?" She stared at him through the semi-darkness, appalled by herself as she felt the impact of his words on her conscience-- the Black Nights were starting to look less evil.

"We waged a few wars against them initially, yes. But the cost of innocent human lives..." he trailed off, his seafoam eyes forlorn, incredibly sad and bleak as he stared into the dying fire. "We proposed the treaty, and one of your queens agreed..."

"A treaty that permits you to kill any number of... demons each month," Astrid said, frowning, still unable to accept it despite everything he had told her.

"Which brings us back to the differences between us, fallen angels, and your demons, Lady. Like them, we lose our wings for having sinned. But we repent and don't repeat our mistakes. We keep our magic and serve out our sentences as God's soldiers. Once we punish enough demons for the crimes they committed, we get our wings back."

Astrid tried to picture Azrael with a pair of huge white wings, as one of the breathtakingly beautiful, ethereal creatures her book claimed were angels, failed, and giggled, making him roll his eyes as he read the following question in her mind before she pronounced it.

"And you need those wings because...? I saw you flying even without wings. Is getting your wings back only an excuse to fight the demons, or is it a question of beauty?" Astrid didn't mean to laugh, but she couldn't help it.

However, her mirth evaporated with his reply. "We are not allowed to return to Heaven without wings, Lady, it's impossible. Without wings, we are destined to live in Oblivis, or in your world, unaccepted, feared, hiding like Jophiel. It's not the best way to spend one's life."

Astrid wasn't sure what made her ask the next question, but the words were out before she could stop them, whispered in a plaintive voice she barely recognised as hers. "Once you get your wings back, will you still be able to remain?"

"No."

Astrid nodded, trying to convince herself that Azrael's wings were not her concern, but even if she could fool herself, she couldn't fool him.

"Have you ever wondered why everyone and everything in your world is named after celestial objects?" he asked as if he felt the need to distract her, and maybe himself, from the subject of his leaving Eurovea forever. "The demons and even their descendants who had never seen it yearn for Heaven. The stars hovering in the night sky are the closest things to home, where they can never set foot again."

"Is Heaven beautiful?" Astrid whispered, bewitched by his words.

"Yes. Heaven is... perfect."

Do you wish to go back home, Azrael? she thought, unable to pronounce the words aloud.

It took a while before he replied in her mind, I'm... not sure any longer.

The answer was so unexpected that it took Astrid's breath away, creating a completely new sort of confusion in her mind. Why would he say that? What did he mean? And why did she have the feeling that she influenced that answer somehow? But how? Why?

One of doves landed on his shoulder, and Astrid, taking a deep breath, used it to change the subject.