Uriel

All was quiet when Uriel stepped from the roots that made up the door to the little house. the hum of old lights was the only sound to be heard but if he listened carefully, he could just make out the steady cadence of a heartbeat and shallow breathing. For a moment he just stood and let the sounds soothe the jagged parts of his soul.

This was the one place he could almost call home.

Almost.

He went first to the room on his immediate right. It was a greenhouse of sorts with a floor of exposed earth and lamps lining the ceiling. Rows of lush seasonal vegetables and herbs spanned nearly half a football field, and along the walls, trees that bore fruit all year round despite their subterranean environment.

The ceiling had been dug out much higher in here to give the trees space to grow and had been painted to look like the sky. Painting complete with sun and clouds but was a child's rendering and a poor imitation of the real thing, its colors too bright if not entirely wrong. The walls too were covered in paintings, but these were abstract and wild compared to the ceiling. Some were of poorly drawn animals; others were shapes and bright colors layered over older images as if the artist had grown bored with them and decided to make something new.

Uriel descended the short steps and went to the trees first. Walking along the room's perimeter he touched the trees, taking a few seconds to feed each one power that sent it blooming anew. When he was done, he went to the center of the room. Crouching he sank long fingers into the dirt and let the beast sift through the minerals. They had become sparse since his last visit. He pulled at the ground calling up richer fertile soil and careful not to disrupt the spring that fed the houses well, letting the fatigued earth sink deep to be rejuvenated. It was a temporary solution, but it would do. He would have to come back later to find out what had stripped the soil of its vitality so quickly but for now, he had other things to do.

Leaving the underground garden, he went down and a short hall to the living room. Like the garden, its walls were covered in a strange collaboration of color and paint and sparsely furnished. Just a faded old couch, an overflowing bookshelf, and a small table with a shallow bowl on it. The place was also a mess. Paper, pencils, and trash were all over the floor and furniture, while the couch was out of place and housed more books than the bookshelf.

Going to the table, Uriel pulled a little pouch from a hidden pocket. The diamonds inside it felt heavy making the beast poke its head up in curiosity. Upending the pouch, Uriel poured the gleaming crystals onto his hand. Letting his power flow, he infused the gemstones with it until they show with their own inner light. Any stone would do for what he needed but Diamonds were always best, and these were almost perfect. He dropped them into the bowl adding the diamonds to the fortune already piled inside it. Rubies, sapphire, opals, and emeralds glinted like a living rainbow of living color in the light and the beast wanted to touch.

But the beast had no hands and Uriel was its keeper, not its servant.

His last stop was the kitchen. He had to duck to avoid the herbs hung to dry in the archway, and If houses were people, this one had a split personality. Unlike the rest of the house, this room was spotless. Pristine counters, clear floors, empty jars stacked by size and shape; everything where it was supposed to be and so clean it could make OCD happy. Unfazed by the odd contradiction, Uriel checked each of the cabinets. Taking stock of the canned goods that simply could not be recreated in the kitchen, he took note of the sparse pickings.

He had let too much time go by since his last visit.

And how long had it been since he had slept? Days, weeks? He couldn't remember and it was too easy to forget when chasing the sun across time zones made each day merge with the last. He didn't need to rest like most people but was old, older than most of the mage, and the beast was getting more demanding, more insistent every time he let it out of its cage.

Exhaustion flooded him and weariness seeped into his bones. The beast pressed against his mind, testing its bonds and his control as it urged him to stay. He was tempted to listen, to stay like he wanted to. And he was so close to giving in when felt a tug on his mind.

His next task was calling him away.

So, he went.

And bound the beast under another layer of steel and hate.