AZRIEL

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The following day I arose late into the morning - or what had felt like it, considering even the mornings here included a night sky with stars and a moon.

I stayed in bed. The tenderness of the silk sheets against my skin stopped me from leaving, but what sounded like sudden commotion from outside my window had pulled me straight out. 

Rushing to my window seat, I peered outside and tried to make out whatever I could see in the darkness. It looked like a group of five, six or maybe seven people gathered outside, all looking down at something on the ground which I couldn't see.

Without thinking I grabbed my satin dressing gown hanging off the foot of my bed and hurried into the corridor and out the door leading to the front courtyard of the house. I pushed past a couple of the people, realising they were house servants, and eventually made my way to the front of the crowd. What I saw next made icey chills summon down my back.

A head.

The head of an actual dead person - or angel, lying there on the cobbled ground of the courtyard. There were murmurs of horror and shock coming from the small crowd gathered around it, and I swear I felt bile coming up in my throat just at the look of it. 

"Alright, there's nothing left to see here," called a male voice with a tone laced with dominance and authority. Azriel appeared from among the crowd and the servants instantly bowed their heads and quietened at his presence, Julian stood at his side. "Everybody please return back to your roles in the house."

Reluctantly the servants started to turn away a few by a few, leaving until it was just myself, Azriel and Julian stood with the dead head on the ground. 

"What is it?!" I instantly asked Azriel, shuddering at the sight of it. Azriel placed his hands behind his back, looking more disgusted than I was as he prodded the body part with the tip of his boot. 

"Biological warfare," He answered with deathly calm, "From Ancient Pandaemonium."

"They're known to be the most gruesome district in existence," Julian added, his face lethargically pale. 

I took a step back from the head, noticing the murder blade was still in the forehead of the angel. His eyes were wide in perhaps a combination of pain and shock, his whole area beneath his neck severed. Poor soul.

"Why did they do this?" I whispered, looking to the faces of the two males besides me for answers. 

Azriel shrugged, his eyes still fixated on the severed head by his feet, "It's a war tactic. It's used to dampen morale - make the opposition, meaning us, think twice about attacking."

"Well, are you thinking twice ?"

"Not at all," He replied sharply, "In fact, I won't stop until it's the King's head which is severed at my feet."

I chose not to reply, but grimaced at the thought. 

"Julian," Azriel turned to his male counterpart, "Inform Raymond that we require him to come and dispose of this."

Julian nodded and instantly turned to leave and oblige to his master's orders. I on the other hand, as lethargic as I felt, couldn't stop staring at the head on the ground. What confused me was how although there was a hole in the skin where the blade had gone through, there was no wounding or bleeding of any sort which I found extremely strange.

"Angels don't bleed," Azriel spoke up, his hands in his pockets as he wiped the tip of his boot which had touched the head into the gravel perhaps to wipe any germs off, "That's one of the few things which differentiates us and humans. We also don't throw up, or receive wounds."