A legion of angels had descended from the sky through the dark clouds, a flurry of white light glistening over the darkness. Sera, upon noticing this, stood in front of Lily and the unconscious Hariel, "Lily, take Hariel and run."
"What?! What about you?" The protest was evident on Lily, the shakiness of her voice told Sera everything that was left unsaid.
"Don't worry about me, worry about Hariel."
"But—"
"Now is not the time for 'buts', Lily! These beings are angels, a legion of archangels. And them being here, at this exact location, means they've discovered Hariel. You have to go." Sera urged, grasping Lily by her shoulders. She was reluctant too, as parting with them at that moment meant leaving them vulnerable, just like the first time.
But the witch had the same thinking, though for a different reason, "I am not leaving you."
"Lily." Her words held a tinge of finality, one that Lily knew there was no fighting with, "I'll be fine. I promise. I'll come back and find you two."
She relented with a soft sigh, her wand at the ready to disapparate, "… Alright. Be safe."
"I should be the one saying that to you."
Just as they disappeared, angels in golden armor had kicked the door open while the rest scanned the entirety of the house. Elyndar, a high-ranking archangel of the heavens, entered after the legion.
"Elyndar. Of course, they'd send you to come after me." Sera scoffed.
Elyndar was known among the angels in heaven as being of equal rank to Sera; his trademark no-nonsense kind of thinking made him popular and most favored among the elders. "I had no other choice, Sera."
"I know…" Her tone was soft, having known the angel for as long as she had lived, back when their ideals were the same.
"Tell me where they are, Sera, and perhaps I can persuade them to take pity on you."
"And sell my family out, Elyndar? My wife and my daughter?"
"They are human, Sera."
"And the one you're hunting down is of my flesh and blood, one I've carried for months."
With a heavy sigh, the archangel signaled for Sera to be taken in by the guards, with the condensed divine energy of the Aetherlight shackles binding her wrists together and her divine abilities suppressed. "Under the commandment of the first Covenant, you are hereby condemned."
The journey back to heaven was quiet, lasting for nearly thirty minutes before an angel shoved her into a large white chamber enclosed by huge mahogany doors with golden details as if she weren't still a high-ranking angel.
"Sera, Head Seraphim of Heaven, I assume you know why we have called you here?" Elyndar spoke at a podium with a few high-ranking angels, asking her the obvious question for the rest of the angelic jury who weren't present during her capture.
"Yes." The angel answered, head held high out of respect but not out of subservience.
"You insolent daughter of light! That witch has blinded you, darkening your wings of its purity." An elder, long-bearded with a shiny head, spoke out in rage.
"You mistake your rank for immunity, daughter of light. How dare you anchor yourself to such… a being." Another commented, all pompous looking with puffed-up hair and a glistening silver monocle in one eye.
"You were created for a better purpose! For greater obedience!" An archangel with golden laurels in his hair boomed, voice echoing like thunder, "We expected more restraint from someone of your standing!"
"Enough." Elyndar's voice rose above the elders, "I understand your grievances towards our fellow archangel here—"
"Fellow?! How can I call someone whose wings have softened—" The sharp glare from Elyndar made the elder pause, clearing his throat in nervousness, "... Yes, right… Continue."
"As I was saying, we will hold fair judgement upon Head Seraphim Sera. If proven innocent, she will be of surveillance until dictated upon."
"And if she is found guilty?"
"... Then her wings shall be clipped." Murmurs erupted at the punishment. Every angel in heaven knew what that meant: clipped wings signified the beginning of one's status as a fallen angel. Sera's wings frazzled at the thought, but she stood steadfast.
"Clip her wings now; it is apparent that she has disobeyed our laws." An elder with flowing robes spoke, arms crossed over her chest, "Then we seize whatever half-breed that being is."
"Don't you dare." Sera gritted her teeth, "That half-breed you're talking about is my child! She's not a violation of whatever law you lot are used to! She is a miracle, someone who is able to use witch spells and divine magic. And right now, instead of having me detained here, you should all help me protect her!"
"And why should we?"
"Because the divine creator said that all life is precious. Try to hurt her, and you're all just as guaranteed to have your wings clipped." She snarled, the Aetherlight shackles pulsing as it stopped her abilities from resurfacing. Murmurs of agreement and disagreement echoed in the white chambers, each elder with varying reasons for their decisions, but they were at a standstill. They had expected Sera to beg, and cry, and plead for Hariel not to be punished, but instead, she appealed to the values each elder shared unanimously through their traditional views. She continued, "Hariel is a life. Are you saying you were going to take care of her by ending her life? Is that what our Heaven was meant for? The end of a life because of the mistake of a parent?"
The whispers grew even louder, and Elyndar felt the need to step in once more, "Quiet. It seems the elders have mixed opinions on this matter, so we have no choice but to call forth Judgment Day. Sera will be unable to return below until judgment is passed, and we will have watchers assigned to her. Furthermore, attempts towards the child are forbidden. Will this be satisfactory to both parties?"
Sera let out a small breath, nodding, grateful that despite Elyndar being bound by duty, he was still sympathetic beneath it all.
Meanwhile, Lily managed to apparate to an unfamiliar land of gas lamps and grand stone buildings with iron fences. It wasn't like their home or the people they grew to know. But it was for the best. For Hariel. Lily roamed through narrow streets and horse carriages trotting down cobblestoned roads, nearly stumbling from Hariel's weight in the search for a place to rest.
But she forced herself to continue through the haze of confusion, exhaustion, and the sights all around her.
Hariel still lay unconscious on her back as she adjusted her hold. Lily needed to move even while the nausea she felt after the apparition still plagued her. It didn't help that the place they found themselves in was cold, with her breath visible at each laboured exhale. Hariel's weight felt heavier than it should be, but Lily knew her daughter was alive. The soft beat of her heart against Lily's back was the only reassurance she needed to push through.
Horse hooves clattered against stone as she turned into another alleyway, this one wider than the previous street. Soft music played just across by a man with a fiddle, entertaining children and women alike, and the scent of fresh bread drifted as she passed by a stall. Finally, she came across an inn, entering through the door with a soft creak of the wood. The innkeeper greeted her, but the language came out as gibberish.
"Room?" She asked, using her actions to gesture to her and Hariel, "One? Please?" But the difference in the language still proved to be a barrier between her and the innkeeper. She cursed to herself, resorting to muttering a translation spell she didn't think she would use in her lifetime before speaking again, "Can… we have a room? H-How much… Even if it's just one bed, please…?"
"Ah, one room…" The innkeeper smiled softly, shoulders relaxing as she finally understood the words, "We have a room available on the second floor." Lily nodded, placing the pay on the table before moving up the wooden stairs.
In the safety of the room, she lay Hariel on the bed, brushing back the strands of hair that littered the front of her face, "… Don't worry, Hariel… I won't let anything harm you…" She whispered before murmuring to herself, "... Oh Sera… What am I supposed to do now…?" Lily stood, walking towards the window and gazed outside.
Moments later, Hariel stirred, waking up in a strange room. She shot up from under unfamiliar sheets, only for Lily to push her back down, "Mom—!"
"Shh, sweetheart, it's fine. You're safe."
"Safe? But… Where's mom?"
"Sera is…" The words lodged in her throat, finding it hard to explain the depths of what was happening, "She's… Safe. She'll come find us. Sera promised she would."
"But where is she?" Hariel continued to ask.
"I don't know myself, sweetheart. We just have to trust her."
"And what about the man, Alaricus?" She questioned before looking around the room, noticing the difference from her own town, "A-And… And where are we?"
Lily brushed back Hariel's hair, fingers trembling from her barely concealed fear, "The demon should still be in Hogwarts. And as for where we are… We'll figure that out together. I apparated us to someplace safe, but even I don't know where we ended up." The distant sound of carriages and music was faintly heard outside before she added, "We'll try to settle here until Sera comes for us, but for now, no magic or divine abilities. Do you understand?"
"But…!"
"No buts, Hariel. Not until we know you'll be safe from whoever is behind that Alaricus." Her daughter gave in, nodding.
"Yes, I understand."
"Good… For now, we'll stay here temporarily. Then find a place to settle in." She smiled at Hariel, trying her best to pull herself together, "Sleep. You still need to rest after fainting…"
And for the first time that day, a bit of tension left her shoulders. Her daughter was safe and awake in front of her, albeit in a strange town hiding and running away like fugitives. Now all she had to do was pray for the safety of her wife and hope that the heavens hadn't abandoned them yet.
Lily didn't sleep.
She lay on the narrow bed beside Hariel, one arm curled protectively around her daughter's shoulders, listening to the unfamiliar rhythm of the city outside the thin walls of the inn. Carriage wheels rolled past in uneven intervals. Somewhere nearby, laughter drifted upward, light and careless, belonging to people who had no idea what was happening around their small bubble of comfort.
Every sound made her tense. When Hariel's breathing finally evened out, Lily carefully slipped from the bed and crossed the room. The floorboards creaked under her weight, the sound painfully loud in the quiet space. She winced, then stilled, listening. No footsteps outside. No voices in the hallway, only the wind brushing against the shutters.
She pressed her forehead to the cool glass of the window. She wished Sera was there with them right at that moment
The city stretched before her, lanterns glowing softly in the encroaching night, rooftops layered like the backs of sleeping beasts. She did not recognize it. The language outside, the architecture, even the stars above seemed wrong. She had apparated without coordinates, without anchors, without thought—only desperation and the single thought of survival, the safety of their daughter.
The following morning arrived grey and damp. Hariel woke up, disoriented, eyes blinking against the unfamiliar ceiling. It took her several seconds to remember where they were. When she did, her stomach twisted. Lily was already awake, sitting at the small table by the window. Her hair was loose around her shoulders with dark circles beneath her eyes.
"Morning," Lily said softly.
Hariel pushed herself upright. "Did you sleep?"
Lily hesitated, then offered a small smile. "A little," Hariel didn't believe her, but she nodded anyway.
"What are you doing?" She asked, looking over the piece of paper on the table.
"I'm… thinking. Of what we'll do. Of how we'll survive here. We can't stay in one place, but we can't exactly move from town to town without getting caught." Lily muttered, brushing back the loose hair in her face, "We'll… have to settle somewhere around here."
"You mean… here?" Hariel asked quietly. Lily nodded.
They dressed slowly. Lily helped Hariel tie her boots, the way she used to when Hariel was younger, and for a moment neither of them spoke. They dressed slowly. Lily helped Hariel tie her boots, the way she used to when Hariel was younger, and for a moment neither of them spoke. When they stepped into the street, Lily kept a hand wrapped around Hariel's wrist, not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough that neither of them could forget it was there.
Months. It took them months before they could settle in a shack at the outskirts of town. The place had once been a storage shed for some forgotten trade route, long abandoned and barely standing. Its roof sagged on one side, the wood darkened by age and damp. Ivy crept up its walls like it was trying to swallow the structure whole. They managed to buy the thing with more than half the money they had. But that didn't matter. To Lily, it was safety.
And during those months of searching, she learned, bit by bit, about the city: which streets and alleyways were safe once dark, which inns they could temporarily stay in that didn't ask too many, or the stalls and shops that allowed her to work for a penny or two without questioning who she was or where she came from. They cleaned it together. They fixed the broken latch on the door with wire Lily transfigured from scrap. They laid blankets over the wooden boards and pushed two old crates together to form a table. A candle became their only light at night. It wasn't home, but it was theirs.
The city beyond the outskirts felt distant from there; its noise muffled, its dangers less immediate. At night, they could hear frogs near the marsh and the slow rustling of trees. Hariel slept better. Lily finally allowed herself to sleep more than an hour at a time. She even found work in the city washing dishes at a tavern near the river. The owner, a thick-armed woman with silver in her hair, never asked questions. Lily worked from afternoon until nightfall, her hands raw and her back aching, returning to the shack with bread tucked inside her coat and exhaustion heavy in her bones.
Hariel stayed behind during those hours, recalling what she had studied back then in Hogwarts, when her memories during her days of study didn't plague her. Sometimes, she'd ask herself how her friends were, if they were even safe after the attack from Alaricus. She also thought about her Uncle Severus, if he worried for her too. She shook her head, trying to focus on recalling theory magic.
Sometimes, when the silence became too heavy, she went outside and sat on the steps of the shack, watching the marsh grass sway in the breeze. The outskirts were quiet in a way that felt unnatural, broken only by insects and distant birds. The city loomed far off, its towers and spires faint against the horizon, like something from a dream that did not belong to her.
She missed Sera with an ache that lived in her chest. She missed the sound of her laughter, the warmth of her presence, the way she always seemed to know when Hariel was scared even before she spoke. Hariel wondered if Sera was hurt. If she was searching for them. If she even knew where to begin.
When Lily returned each night, Hariel always noticed the way her shoulders slumped, the way her steps dragged, the way her hands trembled when she set down the bread or whatever scraps of food she had managed to secure. She tried to hide it, but Hariel saw. She always saw.
But the answer was always 'I'm fine' even though her body said otherwise. Hariel decided to stay quiet.
Alaricus hummed to himself as he walked along the dimly lit halls of the manor. Dark iron torches flickered against the decaying walls of dark mahogany and yew. He skipped as he walked, once and twice, with his heels clicking, waltzing into a room where his employer was. The man in question had waxy, bone-white reptilian skin—jagged in some corners and at the top of his head, with snake-like slits for nostrils and dark scarlet eyes with their pupils akin to a cat's irises. One would think he wasn't human, but he was. And his soul was so enticing to the demon that he found himself serving him, "My lord! I have returned—" A high-pitched shriek erupted from his lips, cutting himself off.
The man stood, skeletally thin and pale, with unnaturally long fingers over a large hand wrapped around a phoenix-feathered core wand of yew wood, "You failed."
"Ah, ah… I may have failed, but I got you something better~"
"Don't try to weasel your way out of this, demon. I specifically told you to bring me the angel."
"Duh, yes, but…!" He ran a hand through his combed-back hair, wiggling a finger, "I found something better! Although I initially wanted to experiment with the cute little thing, I suppose this serves a much better purpose. Yes! A grander purpose!"
"Out with it, Alaricus." The man was growing impatient with how Alaricus dawdled. He should have been the one to push his plans into action, but unfortunately for him, he was too weak at the moment. He needed more power.
"A half angel!"
The man growled, standing up from his seat with a loud thud, "That's only half an angel's worth, you fool!"
"Wait! Here me out!" He raised his hands in surrender, frantic to tell him about Hariel, "It might be half an angel, but she's much more capable than a pure one, I swear! She's also able to perform the same spells you do! Wouldn't that be better than a low-quality pure angel for the great Tom Marvolo Riddle—"
"Do not call me that."
"Yes, yes… How could I forget? It is Lord Voldemort now." Alaricus smirked, letting out a breath. His life extended momentarily, "Anyway, it's the daughter of the angel you wanted me to target. Now, isn't it better if I capture the human with divine abilities than a regular angel, huh?"
Voldemort took his time thinking. It was true; it was better than having an angel. A human with divine abilities made it more likely to succeed in getting stronger, "… And where is it?"
"No clue."
Voldemort nearly snapped his wand in two at the carefree statement. If only he could use the killing curse on him, but the demon was still useful despite the eccentricity.
"Tell me then…" He exhaled through the slits of his nose, "… If you have any idea where this child might be or so help me, Alaricus, I will snap both of your legs and feed them to the hounds!"
"Ah! But the chase is half the fun, my lord!"
"You test my patience."
He cleared his throat, determined to backpedal from his usual antics, "W-Well, consider it my personal mission then. Though, it has come to my attention that even the heavens have just become aware of the child. If I simply just follow their trail, I shall be able to find where the child is."
"And if they don't look for it?"
"My dear lord…" He chuckled, voice deep and filled with amusement, "A child of a witch and a divine cannot simply hide their gift so tightly in a world full of the ordinary. Sooner or later, the divine aura within her would burst and erupt and, well, become easily trackable if I do say so myself."
Voldemort raised an eyebrow at his words, further contemplating the next course of action, the hems of his dark robes flowing like black smoke across the stone floor. His skeletal frame creaked softly at each movement he made as if the bones in his body echoed the sinister plans that were forming in his mind. "You promised me power, Alaricus."
"And that you shall still have. But the child is still young, a bit of cultivation won't hurt the wait you have already endured, no?"
Voldemort stopped walking, facing the demon, "It is unstable then. Very well, that child will draw attention soon and when it does, we will be the first to strike. I will have that power, extract it from that child and harness it for myself… Then I will be unstoppable!"
"Unstoppable indeed or…" Alaricus whispered conspiratorially, leaning in with a mischievous grin, "... Surpass death. Command it even if you wish."
Voldemort's breathing hitched at the thought of commanding death, already imagining the fear and respect that came with it. He had already imagined it once, back when he and Alaricus first met.
"Reveal yourself. I know you're following me." A younger Voldemort with his wand raised and figure still of the dashing Tom Riddle everyone knew of.
"Following is such a… predatory word. I would prefer to use sought instead. Your soul called for me, mortal. Sang of the wickedness and darkness that you try to hide beneath this feeble vessel of yours." Alaricus appeared from the shadows of the dark alleyways.
Voldemort froze, realizing the man before him was not human and was noticeably powerful. But that didn't mean fear rendered him still. It was the fact that his thoughts and ideas had called forth a being such as the one in front of him, "Explain."
"Allow me to introduce myself." He bowed, a complete 180 degree with one hand in front of his chest and the other on his back, "Alaricus Vercimille. A being of hell, at your service."
"A demon…? So your kind exists…" He murmured.
"As well as angels, mind you." The demon scoffed lightly, though there was no real heat behind it, "Humans, treating almost everything as mere fiction. Quite laughable, really."
"So, why have you come for me?"
"For a proposition. I'll grant your heart's deepest and darkest desire."
"And what do you get out of it?"
"A front row seat." Alaricus grinned almost maniacally, teeth sharp and the ends of his lips nearly reaching his ears, "And perhaps a bit of a cut of the spoils. I, myself, am quite interested in this human matter called research. Hell doesn't give much of an opportunity."
"Research?" Voldemort asked curiously.
"Research." The demon repeated.
"Very well then. But if this is some trick—"
"Not a trick. You see, aside from mortal ways for you to gain what you desire, there are also the ways of the divine and demonic that I am sure you would find my help rather useful." With a snap of his fingers, they arrived at an abandoned estate in the middle of a dense forest, "This. This is a gift from me to you. A place where you can do as you wish freely."
Voldemort gazed back at Alaricus, "I can do worse, you know. I killed my father and his parents with a killing curse."
Alaricus merely laughed, "Oh, I know. And I also know you could do far worse than what you think you could do."
And the demon's words were true to the point. The manor filled with screams and pleas for mercy as Voldemort transformed from the dashing Tom Marvolo Riddle to what he was now in his conquest for power.
"No, no, no! All of them are useless!!" He screamed one day, eyes a blaze of fury as his current source of power died once more. His hair had already fallen off, and his nose had disappeared in place of snake-like slits. His skin had also turned into a sickly pale colour dotted with dark, scale-like spots.
"You seem distraught."
"Alaricus." He turned towards the voice immediately.
"Hm… A wizard, I see. Must you always grab the lowest quality?"
"What do you mean?" Voldemort asked, eyes narrowing at the question.
"I meant that it would have been more effective if you had simply taken an angel instead of these… mortals."
"An angel." Voldemort's already sour expression worsens at those words, "And pray tell, how should I have taken one when I already have a hard time capturing these witches and wizards?!"
"Why… Through me, of course, your ever-so-diligent demonic servant." He bowed theatrically as he had done the first time, "I have my ways of finding the highest quality of ingredients."
Voldemort didn't flinch at the thought of whatever ways he had. In his mind, there were other options for him, better options, and who was he to deny it? "Very well. Get me some, and I'll provide you with humans to experiment on."
Alaricus laughed at the promise, "Your wish is my command, my lord."
Voldemort snapped his thoughts back to the present, turning to Alaricus with a determined gaze, "You have not disappointed me… until now." He muttered before letting out a breath, "Fine. Bring me the child alive. Though it would be a bonus if the angel we were targeting before were to come as well."
"It shall be done." Alaricus's grin lingered long after the words left his mouth. With a flourish of smoke and heat, the demon bowed low before vanishing, his presence dissolving into the stale chill of the chamber.
The dark iron torches lining the chamber pulsed in response, flames stretching higher as if reacting to the promise itself. Shadows swayed against the mahogany walls, bending and twisting, forming shapes that did not belong to any one world. The manor had been many things across centuries — a noble's residence, a forgotten fortress, a slaughterhouse, a laboratory — and now, it served as the cradle of something far more terrible.
Voldemort returned to his seat upon the obsidian throne, fingers drumming against the armrest of carved serpents. His crimson eyes followed the demon's movement, studying him with the same scrutiny one might offer a volatile ingredient. He did not trust Alaricus — but trust was a concept for lesser beings.
Power was the only truth.
Voldemort began to think once more when Alaricus had left. The silence in the chamber did not feel empty. It pressed against him, thick and expectant, as though the very walls were listening—it always has been with the amount of people that he killed, their grudges forcing them to stay within the darkest corners of the manor, whispering their words of hatred, contempt, and revenge even from their graves. His reflection caught in the warped sheen of a blackened mirror mounted along the far wall; tall, skeletal, and pale as a bone. The remnants of Tom Marvolo Riddle were barely recognizable now, eroded by years of ritual and a thirst for power. His skin had stretched thin over his frame, and snake scales littered all over his skin. Even the air recoiled from him, the cold pooling at his feet.
"A child," he murmured. A half-angel. He laughed loudly to himself.
Not pure divine blood but one filtered through mortal flesh. Something neither Heaven nor Earth could fully claim. Voldemort's lips curled. He crossed the chamber, robes trailing behind him like smoke, and approached the stone table at the far end of the room. Upon it lay scattered tomes, scrolls, bones etched with sigils, and vials of glimmering substances whose colours did not belong to any natural spectrum—all of which he had collected throughout the years, and with the help of Alaricus. He brushed a long finger across a page of one of the ancient books, the parchment whispering beneath his touch. Still, he hadn't found anything regarding half breeds, no precedents, no nothing. He had to work from the bottom up. But he also couldn't afford to waste such a one-of-a-kind specimen on failed attempts. He decided he'd have to study it first.
The thought lingered as he straightened, the low light of the chamber catching against the pale, scaled ridges of his cheek. To rush such a discovery would be foolish. Even Alaricus, for all his theatrics, had understood that much. A being born of mortal will and divine essence did not simply exist—it defied structure, defied order. And anything that defied the natural laws of the world could be reshaped into something far greater. Voldemort turned away from the table and paced slowly across the chamber, the soles of his boots whispering across cold stone with each step echoing faintly, carrying through the manor's hollow bones.
"Madak!" He called, shouting over the dark halls of the manor for one of Alaricus' lesser demons, "Bring me an angel."
"W-What? But my lord!" The lesser demon protested. It'd be hard for them to capture one, let alone defend against it. But it also knew they couldn't afford angering the dark lord, "W-We're not as strong as Sir Alaricus… W-We might not be able to get one…"
"Nonsense. Even the lowest rank would do."
"B-But—!"
"Silence!" The lesser demon trembled in fear, "I'll provide you with a few Death Eaters then."
The lesser demon bowed profusely before hurrying to do the task. Voldemort watched the creature retreat, its hunched form dissolving into the shadows of the corridor beyond the chamber. The torches flared once more as the manor seemed to inhale, then exhale, the sound of ancient stone shifting deep within its foundation like the groan of something half-awake.
He turned back to the table.
The thought of an angel, even a lower one, stirred something almost nostalgic within him. He had dissected witches and wizards, siphoned magic from creatures that crawled the deepest trenches of the earth, bargained with demons and ancient things older than language. But angels… angels were different. He needed to prepare far more than he realised.
Angels were not like other creatures. They were not merely reservoirs of magic; they were like sources, an overwhelming well of a source. Their very existence bent the laws of spellcraft, rewriting the world around them in subtle, catastrophic ways. To contain one, even briefly, required preparation bordering on obsession.
He crossed the chamber once more, retrieving scroll after scroll, laying them across the table in precise formation. Incantations in languages long forgotten, symbols that had no mortal pronunciation, diagrams depicting circles within circles, each marked with warnings scribbled in blood. But taught him how to experiment with the angels, but it did tell him how to contain them.
"... Aetherlight shackles…" He grinned maniacally at the words, loud laughter filling the halls. He had learned that word through Alaricus, whispered between infernal negotiations and blood-stained research. Aetherlight. A material not forged by mortal hands nor born of earthly elements. It was a restraint formed from condensed divine energy, a binding that did not wound flesh but contained their divinity itself, rendering them unable to use. If it were used to shackle one of their own, then it would suffice for his purpose. But the thought of receiving one was the problem.
He couldn't make it on his own. And in that respect, he needed an angel on his side—someone who would align well with his goals. Voldemort exhaled slowly through the narrow slits of his nostrils, the sound almost like a hiss as he reached for another tome and dragged it closer. His long fingers, tipped with clawed nails, turned the pages with deliberate care, looking for the answers he could not find to the questions he had in his mind.
Voldemort's hand tightened around the edge of the table as the thought settled. He had searched. Extensively. For decades. In every library he had ever stolen from, every ruin he had plundered, every forbidden vault he had cracked open with blood and bones and will. He had found records of demons who bartered power, of spirits that devoured souls, of wizards and witches that whispered madness into the world, but angels?
Nothing.
A guttural sound left his lips. Why is there nothing easy for me in this world?! He thought. He swept a stack of parchment aside in irritation, scrolls tumbling onto the stone floor with a dry hiss. He paced the chamber, robes whispering like dead leaves behind him, mind working furiously. Even demons, for all their treachery, left behind methods. Contracts. Symbols. Rules. Angels left nothing, which meant one of two things: Either angels were truly the holy beings they are, or Heaven had erased every trace of those who were not.
Voldemort stopped before the mirror again. His reflection stared back, eyes burning, skin stretched thin, scales glinting faintly in the low light. "Impossible," he muttered. Everything bent eventually. Even gods. If he can't find it, he'll make it himself.
"Sera…" Elyndar muttered, quieter than usual when he entered the chambers where Sera was being held. It was a voice that had commanded legions and shattered battlefields, yet now it carried something dangerously close to hesitation. It had been a couple of months since she was taken in by the legion, and her worry for her family only worsened as each second passed. She hadn't had a time to herself since then, but she had to endure.
Sera lifted her gaze.
The chamber in which she was held was carved entirely from pale celestial stone, its walls engraved with ancient sigils that pulsed faintly with a restrained, watching light. Aetherlight shackles still coiled loosely around her wrists — not tight enough to wound, but heavy with authority. They hummed when she shifted, reminding her that even as Head Seraphim, she was still subject to Heaven's law.
"Have you come to pass judgment, Elyndar?" She asked softly, yet her eyes had not dulled with fear nor submission.
"You do not have to sound so cold, Sera. Your family is safe."
"That is not what I asked."
Elyndar sighed, "... Yes, the decision has been made, and the Speaker is present for this day."
For a moment, the chamber seemed to grow colder.
Sera did not move.
The name alone carried weight—the Speaker, "Then it is time," she spoke after a moment.
Elyndar watched her carefully. She hadn't slept for days. Not really. Her wings, though folded neatly behind her, had lost some of their former brilliance—not from corruption, but from the slow ache of separation, of fear for her family, of being held in the chambers while the world beyond these walls moved without her.
Then the doors to the grand hall opened.
The Hall of Judgement was large beyond belief. Its ceiling arched into constellations that shifted with the world outside, and lights made into living galaxies carved from light and fire. Pillars of radiant stone stretched upward like frozen lightning. Along the perimeter, thousands of angels filled the ascending terraces, their wings casting rivers of silver and gold across the chamber.
The elders stood at the sides, their murmurs echoing loudly while the Speaker of God sat in the middle of the Hall of Judgment. Her presence itself spoke volumes, pressing against the minds of those near her.
"Sera, Head Seraphim," the Speaker started, causing the rest to quiet down, their voice echoing in every direction at once, "you stand accused of violating the First Covenant."
Sera lifter her head, "I do."
The words landed like thunder. The Speaker raised an eyebrow at the words, "You confess?"
"I acknowledge," she corrected, "that I loved a human woman, and that from that love came a child."
The chamber erupted just like the first day she was brought in. Words of outrage, disbelief, and horror spun around the hall, but the faint curve of a smile on the Speaker's lips was only noticeable to one. She liked how Sera admitted to her actions.
"Enough." Silence swallowed the noise like a tidal wave, "Why?"
"When I decided to change the rules of Heaven with your guidance after Sir Pentious's redemption, I began to observe the humans, to understand what kind of changes were necessary for us." She spoke, a faint tremor ran visibly through her wings, "And I ended up staying…"
"For what reason?"
Images flickered in her head, offering it for everyone in the hall to see. The happy days with Lily, her laughter, their hands together, the shared whispers, and finally, the birth of Hariel through her, "This… This is my reason for staying. I watched her kindness, the resilience to care for our daughter during days when I am needed here. I had not abandoned my duties, but took in more instead. The duty of caring for a life. And when a demon came and attacked our home, Lily was the one who protected our child at the cost of potentially losing her life. If she and our love were to be the cause of my downfall, I'd do it all over again."
When the Speaker rose, Sera braced herself. Even the elders wait with bated breath at the anticipation that she be punished for what they thought was a crime, while Elyndar's shoulders stilled, "... Not guilty."
The words rang through every realm of Heaven as the elders erupted in anger. Elyndar, however, let out a quiet breath of relief. Aetherlight shackles dissipated slowly in the air, "... Why?!" An elder spoke out.
"The covenant exists to preserve creation, not to extinguish its heart. Sera acted within the highest law of existence: to protect life and nurture hope." The Speaker answered before turning to Sera, eyes warm over the angel whom she had known for far too long, "... You are free now. Go and find your family, Sera."
She didn't wait, her wings unfurling from being restrained for so long, "... Thank you." That was what she had only said before flying off out of the Judgment Hall.
But even after flying out of Heaven, she had no idea where Lily or Hariel were. If they were safe or even alive. No, they had to be. She would find them even if she had to tear Heaven and Hell apart.
"Lily, Hariel…" She thought as she landed in the vicinity of their old home. There were no residual traces of magic left, and dust had already settled on the furniture, "Where are you…?"
Before she could even take another step, she felt an unknown presence entering. In an instant, she hid herself, masking her presence until she was sure she was safe.
"Kik-kik… Boss should love pushing this stupid grunt work to us…" A high-pitched voice echoed, complaining rather loudly.
"Because we're grunts, Chilik." A deeper-sounding voice answered, "Be glad Sir Alaricus hasn't thrown us to the fire yet."
The two were lesser demons, minions of Alaricus that were sent to find out where Hariel went. The way they handled the search infuriated Sera as she helplessly watched them knock over furniture and throw around items haphazardly.
They didn't move with care over the items that her family had memories over.
One of them, Chilik, kicked over a small wooden table by the window—the same wooden table Lily had repaired herself and proudly shown off. The other one searched a chest of Hariel's things, tearing Hariel's favourite doll to pieces, believing they might find hidden leads. It hurt that she couldn't do anything about it.
"Kik-kik… Nothing here." Chilik hissed, his red eyes narrowing into slits as he scanned the room, "Smells old. Dust. Human scent gone too."
"They ran far, Chilik." The other answer, tossing a broken frame aside, "Sir Alaricus won't like that."
"We be getting beheaded if we return empty-handed, Rikk."
"Nothing we can do about it." Rikk answered, "Let's go. Angel's trail cold too. Lord Voldemort won't like that either…"
Their footsteps retreated, claws scraping across stone as they vanished into the thinning veil of shadows. She walked slowly through each room, her fingers grazing walls, doorframes, the edge of Hariel's small bed. The air carried no magic now, no warmth, only the echo of what had been taken too soon, as if reminiscing of the days before the demon came for them.
"I will find you." The promise was echoed as she unfurled her wings again to continue her search. Even if she had to scour the whole world for them, she would.
Sera searched the mortal realms for days. She searched blindly, the trace of Lily's magic long gone in the air. She crossed villages and forests, rivers and shattered ruins, moving faster than any wind when she thought she picked up a trail, slowing only when it faded once more.
By night, she listened for familiar whispers, separating them from the prayers of mortals for salvation. But it was still useless. She couldn't hear them. She couldn't feel them. The stress came doubly as each day passed.
Until one day, she heard it for a moment. The soft call for a mother. Sera could recognise the tone anywhere; her daughter was calling for her. With that, hope returned to her. And Sera's wings snapped wide in a hurry.
By the time Sera reached the unfamiliar city, dusk had begun to bleed into night.
The streets were narrow and winding, lined with stone buildings and iron balconies. Gas lamps flickered to life one by one, their glow reflecting off damp cobblestones. Voices echoed in a language she did not immediately recognise, laughter mingling with the rumble of carriages and the distant music of a violin.
It was beautiful.
And terrifying.
And new. But all she could think about was the hardships Lily and Hariel must have had to fit in and settle down while hiding away from the people hunting them. Sera walked the streets, following the residual trace from her daughter until she came across a shack at the outskirts of town. She swallowed, knocking on the door.
Then came the voice she missed, calling out to wait for a moment before the door swung open.
"Sera…?" She froze, dropping the rag she was using to dry her hands.
"Lily." She breathed a sigh of relief, the tension finally leaving as she hugged her, "You're safe… You're really safe…"
"Mom? Who's at the door?" Then came the voice that made Sera freeze. She turned towards the source as her wings trembled the moment they made eye contact, "... Mom?"
"Hariel."
The name left her lips like a prayer.
Hariel stood dumbly for only a second longer before crossing the space between them in a rush and colliding with Sera's chest. The impact nearly knocked the wind from her, but Sera wrapped her arms around her daughter without hesitation, wings folding instinctively around both of them. "You're here," Her daughter whispered, "You're actually here…"
"I'm here," Sera murmured into her hair. "I'm here. I'm so sorry it took me so long."
Lily closed the door behind them quietly. For a few seconds, the only sounds in the room were Hariel's faint sobs and the faint creak of old wood beneath their feet.
When Hariel finally pulled back, she looked up at Sera as if trying to memorise her face all over again.
"You disappeared," She said, "Mom said you stayed behind. H-How did you get here?"
"Let Sera rest, Hariel… She must have flown all the way here." But Sera only laughed at the words.
"Rest? Why should I rest when I just saw you two? I want to know all about what you two have been doing since we got separated."
Lily shook her head with a soft smile, "Sit. You're shaking…"
Only then did Sera realise it was true.
The long months of restraint, of distance, of fear, of searching—now that she was here, now that she could see them with her own eyes, her body was finally allowing itself to feel the fatigue. Her wings trembled as she folded them in, light feathers brushing the wall as she lowered herself onto the chair Lily pulled out for her, "Thank you, Lily…"
"What happened, exactly?" Lily asked, offering her a glass of water.
"... I was put on trial." Sera recounted the past couple of months, "If they had decided against me, I would have had my wings clipped."
"Clipped?" The concept was lost on them, as they failed to understand the significance of having an angel's wings clipped.
"It means we'll become fallen angels." The silence that followed was heavy, the realisation creeping in.
"What?!" Both Lily and Hariel reacted, with her wife scrambling to form the words with this truth, "They… They would do that to you? Because of us? Sera…"
"It's okay…" She reassured them, "The Speaker of God… She told me I wasn't guilty for all the things I have done, that I wasn't guilty for falling for you, Lily, and for having our Hariel."
Both wife and daughter let out a breath of relief at that, "That… That's good…"
"I also found out about something after leaving the Judgment Hall." Sera turned to Lily, "It's about the demon and his employer. Alaricus' henchmen came over to the house, looking for traces of you. And they mentioned someone else, someone by the name of Lord Voldemort."
"... Voldemort…" Lily whispered.
"Do you know them, Lily?"
She nodded, faintly, before muttering, "The dark lord… His name is so taboo that we never dare say his name lest we call him to where we are. Everyone in the Wizarding world fears him so much that he was called 'He-who-must-not-be-named'. The most brilliant of wizards turned to the dark side by greed for power…"
"Then we must stop him."
"If he were someone so easily stopped, he would have been imprisoned in Azkaban long ago."
Sera's fingers tightened around the glass of water, "Then he is not a man who can be ignored."
"No." Lily said quietly, "He isn't."
Hariel had gone still beside them, her hands curled tightly in her sleeves. She had heard stories back in Hogwarts but hearing the name spoken so plainly, so close, made the danger feel so real, "What does he even want with me?"
"I don't know, sweetheart. But it's clear he won't stop until he finds you or me."
"He's looking for you too?"
"From what little I could gather from the minions."
"We had to move around too… Not because we thought we were being followed but… it was just easier, fewer people knowing us and fewer people around whenever Hariel had fluctuations with her divine abilities."
"Her magic is still growing. Strong emotions can amplify it. Or cause it when you least expect it."
Lily nodded, "I know."
For a while, the room was quiet again. Outside, the city hummed with distant life—carriage wheels, raised voices, the echo of boots on stone just a few blocks away, distant but still heard. None of it felt like home, but for the first time in months, Sera could breathe.
"Why here?" She finally asked.
"It's farther from everyone but close enough when we needed things," Lily answered.
"Mom got work during the afternoon." Hariel piped up. Sera raised an eyebrow at the information.
"Work?"
"Just… to have food on the table. Cleaning dishes."
"Oh, Lily…"
"I'm fine. It helps us to blend in."
"But still…"
"It's really fine, Sera…" Lily smiled before standing up, "Well, I should fix the bed for us. Hariel, could you finish up the dishes for me?" Hariel nodded, heading out with a pail to fetch water for the rest of the dishes.
"... Fetch… water?"
"We had to." She started, "We had to limit our interactions with others. That way, we'd leave fewer traces." Sera closed her eyes at that. Not in anger. In quiet, aching understanding. The lengths Lily had gone for them. Hariel returned a moment later with the pail of water, carefully setting it near the basin. Her movements were natural, learned through clumsy days of repeated routine.
"You shouldn't have had to grow up this fast," Sera murmured, watching her daughter and feeling something ache deep in her chest.
Hariel shrugged lightly. "I'm fine."
"Don't you resent your mother…? Without me—!" The sound of skin hitting skin echoed when Lily slapped her, a furious look on her face.
"This is not your fault," She jabbed a finger against the angel's chest.
"This is not your fault," she jabbed a finger against the angel's chest. "Don't you ever say that again."
Sera froze, swallowing the lump in her throat, "I know… I just… thought… a lot of what ifs. And the inkling feeling that you two were too afraid, and I wasn't there to ease that."
"We were afraid, yes… but we were together. And we knew you'd come sooner or later. That's what mattered to us."
"So um…" Hariel piped in, "If… the judgement had gone differently…"
"I'd become a fallen angel."
"Because of me…" Hariel's jaw tightened.
"No!" Both her mothers spoke.
"Goodness sake, you two are really mother and child. You two have that same self-deprecating thinking." Lily huffed, which brought a soft smile to Sera.
"Sorry, darling, for letting our little Hariel inherit such a thing."
"You better!" Lily smiled, leaning against the wall with her arms folded, the tension in her shoulders finally beginning to ease now that Sera was truly here. Not a memory. Not a hope. Not a distant promise. Here, just within her reach, "Hariel? Go and head to your room. I need to talk to Sera."
Hariel pulled back, looking between them. "You're not going to argue, are you?"
Lily smiled faintly. "No."
"Okay…" Hariel hesitated, then nodded before heading to her room, the door closing with a squeak behind her.
Lily finally spoke. "You can't stay long."
Sera didn't argue, though she did correct her, "We can't stay long."
"Ah–right. We can't stay long; they'll find this place eventually."
"Yes."
"And when they do—"
Sera cut her off with a stern look on her face, "I won't let them touch either of you."
Lily pushed herself away from the wall and stepped closer, "That's not what I mean." She searched Sera's face. "We can't fight them head-on. You said so yourself, their boss is the Dark Lord. We can't be too complacent just because we don't see any of them."
Sera's gaze hardened. "Then we move."
"We just did."
"Then we move again."
"And Hariel?"
Sera glanced toward the door. "We prepare her."
Lily went still. "She's just a child."
"She's not," Sera replied softly. "Not anymore."
Lily exhaled. "She shouldn't have to be what this world is forcing her to become. We already forced her into Hogwarts, and now we're forcing her into something much bigger than she can potentially handle? Sera… I'm not letting them ruin my child into some glorified thing."
"No, we won't let that happen," Sera agreed. "But if we don't help her learn, others will exploit her ignorance. Or worse."
Silence stretched between them.
"At last…" The two froze, their head turning to the source of the voice. Their eyes widened when they saw the pale face of the man they had just been talking about earlier.
"Right, my lord?" Alaricus laughed from behind, "The angel, the witch, and the half-breed that I'm sure is hidden somewhere in this… tacky house."
"Alaricus!" Sera snarled.
"Ooh, feisty. I like that in an angel." The demon winked.
Lily's breath hitched. Her hand tightened around the edge of the table as though the wood were the only thing anchoring her to the floor. Every instinct in her screamed danger, but not the sharp, frantic kind, but the deep, ancient terror that crawled through bone and blood.
Sera's wings unfurled in a single, violent motion, the feathers catching the dim lamplight and burning gold. The room felt too small for her suddenly, too fragile, as though it might shatter beneath the weight of what had just entered it. "How disappointing," he murmured, "After everything you are, this is where you choose to hide."
Lily shifted subtly, placing herself between Sera and the narrow hallway behind them. But Voldemort's gaze saw the movement. A thin smile curved his mouth, "There she is," he said softly, like a taunt, "... A witch. A mudblood."
Lily froze at the word. She hated the term, much like the others, but that was the reality of her status, "You don't belong here," Lily said, voice steady despite the way her pulse thundered in her ears, "Leave. Now."
Alaricus let out a delighted laugh. "You really think he listens when people ask nicely?"
Voldemort raised one pale finger. The demon fell silent, and the pressure in the room thickened. The air itself seemed to compress, making every breath heavy and labored. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then Sera stepped forward, her wings scraped against the low ceiling, scattering dust from the beams as light bled from the feathers, a warning flare of gold and white that filled the cramped room. The glow reflected off the glass of the small window, off the scarred tabletop, off Lily's pale face. Sera's eyes burned, fixed on the man before her with a fury that had been building for months. She created a barrier between her and them before calling out, "Lily! Get Hariel now!" The witch nodded.
Alaricus leaned against the wall, arms folded, clearly enjoying the tension. "I told you she'd be fun."
Sera didn't look at him. Her focus remained locked on Voldemort. "You followed us."
"Of course I did," Voldemort replied calmly. "You left such a… distinctive trail."
Meanwhile, Lily ran to her daughter's bedroom, hissing as she reached it, "Hariel!" She pushed the door open and found her daughter sitting upright on the bed, eyes wide, already trembling.
"Mom? What's happening?"
"No time," Lily said, crossing the room in two strides and grabbing her coat from the chair. "Shoes. Now." Hariel didn't ask questions. She swung her legs off the bed, hands shaking as she shoved her feet into her boots. Lily's hands weren't much steadier as she fastened Hariel's cloak, her fingers brushing against the familiar warmth of her daughter's skin.
Then, a violent crash shook the house. Dust rained from the ceiling. Somewhere, glass shattered. The two hurried to the source of the sound. Sera was there, letting out a ragged breath as she defended from Alaricus' attacks, the demon overjoyed to test the limits of an angel's barrier. The floor beneath their feet groaned as another impact rattled the house.
Sera stood at the center of the ruined front room, wings half-unfurled, their glow uneven as she strained to hold the barrier in place. The golden wall of light pulsed violently each time Alaricus slammed his blazing flame into it, the force of the blows shaking the beams overhead. Cracks webbed across the floor. Plaster fell from the ceiling in chalky bursts.
Alaricus laughed, teeth flashing. "Come on, Sera. I was promised entertainment!" Her light flared brighter, the barrier thickening, pushing the demon back a step.
For a heartbeat, the room seemed to hold, then Alaricus lunged again, striking the shield with both fists. The impact echoed like thunder. Hariel grabbed Lily's sleeve, frightened, "Mom—"
"Behind me," Lily whispered, already pulling her wand free. Sera saw them. Relief and fear crossed her face in the same instant.
"Lily, take her and go!" Alaricus's head snapped toward them at the angel's words. His grin widened.
"There she is."
Before Sera could react, the demon twisted, his body blurring in a ripple of heat and shadow as he hurled a blast of infernal magic at the back wall. The explosion tore through the wood, sending shards flying. The barrier buckled as Sera cried out, wings flaring as she poured everything she had into reinforcing it. The house creaked. Voldemort stepped forward at last, his crimson eyes gleaming with fascination as the fragile structure around them collapsed inch by inch.
"Remarkable," he murmured. "You still have this much power left."
Sera's breath came ragged. "You will not touch them."
Voldemort's gaze drifted past her to Lily, then to Hariel. The pressure in the room shifted. Lily felt it like a hand closing around her lungs when she locked eyes with Voldemort. Hariel whimpered, clutching Lily's coat.
"Mom, I don't—"
Lily pressed her palm to Hariel's back, feeling the strange warmth already building beneath the skin. The air around her daughter shimmered faintly, "Close your eyes. You don't have to look at him."
Sera lunged. Her wings flared fully, light bursting outward as she hurled herself between him and her family. The force of her movement drove Voldemort to take a step back, the only sign of resistance he had shown.
"You will not have her," Sera growled.
Voldemort's lips curved, "Anything can be taken."
"Not from us."
Dust hung in the air like falling ash, catching in the faint gold glow of Sera's wings. The barrier between them pulsed violently, a thin, straining wall of light and will. Cracks spider-webbed across the ruined walls of the house. Somewhere in the distance, glass shattered as another shockwave rolled through the street. Voldemort studied Sera with open curiosity. "Such conviction," he said softly. "It almost makes you interesting," He then lifted his hand as the pressure in the room spiked before casting a spell without his wand or uttering it, a blast targeting a weak spot in Sera's barrier.
"Mom!" Hariel cried out. The spell struck as the barrier shattered, shock etched on Sera's face.
"Well done, my lord!" Alaricus laughed, clapping his hands slowly, impressed.
Voldemort did not move. His hand remained suspended in the air, fingers relaxed, as if what he had done required no more effort than brushing dust from his sleeve. Sera forced herself upright on shaking arms. Blood streaked down her cheek from a cut where a shard of her shield had clipped her face. Her wings dragged, feathers scorched at the edges, the golden light flickering erratically as she fought to stay standing, "You still stand." Voldemort muttered. He muttered something under his breath before Sera's body slammed down on the ground as if an invisible hand forced her to.
"Sera!" Lily yelled, "What do you even want from us?!"
"The child. Give me the child, and I'll spare you all." The Dark Lord spoke.
Alaricus cleared his throat, "... Don't forget the angel as well, my lord."
"Ah yes, that's right. I want the child and the angel."
"Over my dead body."
"So be it." Voldemort stepped forward as Lily wrapped herself around Hariel, turning her body into a shield against the man. But Sera stood, forcing her wings to spread, four white wings instead of two, as she moved between him and her wife and daughter. A dozen eyes littered her hair and wings, her expression tinged with deep-seated anger.
"Not one. More. Step." Sera growled, emphasizing each word. Alaricus moved, the demon bursting into flames, ready to assist the man. The angel didn't retreat, her partial-angelic form standing as an obstacle for them.
"Fascinating… So you can change forms." Voldemort mumbled, fascinated by this development. He decided then and there that he would study this change once he captured the angel, "Alaricus. Continue."
The demon bowed before hurling himself towards the angel. Sera met Alaricus head-on, her barrier flaring as the demon's claws tore into it. Sparks of light and hellfire sprayed outward, the impact shook like an earthquake, carving scars into the walls of nearby buildings as the people screamed in surprise and fear. Sera's feet slid across the broken stone, but she held, teeth clenched as she shoved the demon back with a roar.
Alaricus then twisted mid-air and slammed his elbow into Sera's chest. The impact threw her backward, skidding across the ground. Before she could recover, he followed, flames coiling around his fist as he drove it down. The angel screamed and cried in pain; the flames singed against her feathers. She rolled, barely avoiding a second strike that tore against the floorboard through the ground where her head had been moments before. Sera forced herself back onto her feet. Blood dripped from her mouth, but her wings flared again, the new ones trembling as she lifted herself from the ground. The eyes in her feathers tracked Alaricus with predatory focus.
Sera barely had time to react before he reappeared behind her in a burst of heat. His hands lit up in a bright orange flame, ready to drive it down against the angel again, when Voldemort finally lifted a finger, "Enough." He spoke calmly.
Alaricus whined, "Already? I was having so much fun even."
"You'll have your chance again." The devil grinned as his flames disappeared, brushing back his hair, disheveled from the fight.
Hariel took this chance to run towards her mother, "Mom!"
Lily, on the other hand, shakily stood beside her wife and daughter, her wand raised in defense even though she knew it was useless. Voldemort approached, a hand wrapped around Lily's throat, "Pathetic…" His grip around her neck tightened.
Hariel's eyes widened, fear looming over her. Her forehead scar pulsed as her eyes glowed lightly, "Let my mom go!" A vibration of divine aura swept harshly around her, making Voldemort stumble and loosen his hold on the witch. He stepped back, surprised at the sudden display of power, albeit weak. Lily gasped for breath the moment she fell to the floor with a dull thud.
"Perfect. The goal was to confirm the nature of my prize, and it did not disappoint." He turned around, ready to leave the house. He paused by the doorway, looking back at the family of three, "What is your name, child?"
"... Hariel."
"Hariel…" The dark lord tested the name on his lips, repeating it a few more times under his breath, "I shall let you live for now, be grateful. In return, foster that power so that it will become utterly sweet once I take it from you."
With that, the darkness then folded around them. The demon and the Dark Lord vanished, leaving only the wreckage from their fight and the trembling silence behind. Sera's many eyes slowly closed, her wings shuddering as the light finally began to fade, her appearance returning to what it once was as she fainted from exhaustion.
Hariel didn't understand why exactly that man and Alaricus were after her, why he spoke of his goal as if testing her. But one thing she knew was that, because of her abilities, her family was in danger. She needed to grow stronger, knowing Sera nor Lily wouldn't be able to protect her for long. And she didn't want to burden her mothers forever.
For now, she rests with them, forcing herself to carry them into their bedroom even as her scar pulsed painfully. She slid in between, holding on to the last thread of peace she'll probably ever know.
And for the first time that night, the city was quiet.