Dark Requiem [malexmale]

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

The gala was beautiful.

Not what I was expecting, really. Performances done by multiple guests, including Ambrosius, and it had lasted well into the night. It was nearly three in the morning when everything had ended and I found myself walking down the street back toward the guests house with Michael right beside me. He'd been completely absorbed in the performances. His eyes had followed Ambrosius all over the stage, the bright flashes of magical lights reflecting off his blue eyes. He'd tensed during all the jumps, as if he were praying Ambrosius made each one flawlessly, and he had.

He'd also gone backstage to personally congratulate Ambrosius on his performance. Ambrosius had been caught off guard by the compliment, but took it with a smile and promised to return later in the future when his personal issues had subsided. It was his way of saying that once the child was born, he would probably get back to work.

As we walked down the street, it was pleasantly warm once more. The cold sensations had subsided and the air smelled fresh and clean, crisp with the cool night breeze that rustled plants and flowers.

I'd kept the unease to myself. After all, could I truly be sure that evil had arrived in heaven? Perhaps it was my boredom getting the best of me, or paranoia... Yet, it felt so familiar. That cold sensation, that sugary sweet smell, like cotton candy maybe.

I rubbed at the center of my chest again.

"You've been doing that all night," Michael said, making me blink and look at him to see him watching the street ahead, "Do demons get heartburn?" I raised an eyebrow. Was that his attempt at a joke? I had no idea. It was hard to tell considering his tone was flat.

"Just mild discomfort. I am still unaccustomed to this world. The atmospheres are different in each one, the air unclean and clean in others. Thick and thin. I am used to Atlantis's air, thick and humid," I answered. Michael seemed to accept that.

"Atlantis has been doing well for itself. It's only been eight months since the inauguration into the United Pantheons and it seems to have already settled in. I hear you've opened the resorts and the spas. A tourist industry?"

"Yes. Hannibal wants everyone to be able to experience the new Atlantis."

"Hardly new if you're using the same gods. Some of whom sided with Atlan during the battle."

"Be that as it may, Hannibal believes in forgiveness."

"That's naive," Michael said, making me glance at him to see his expression becoming sour, the light in those blue eyes becoming shrewd, "Forgiveness is a weakness. Once tainted, the garden can no longer blossom." I frowned.

"That's a very pessimistic view," I pointed out, but Michael snorted.

"I'm being realistic. The sinful cannot become righteous.They did not trust their creator and thus failed the ultimate test."

"Are we talking about Atlantis or Heaven?" I asked now as we came to a stop outside the guest house. Michael's eyes snapped fire and he turned on me with a seething glare.

"Let's get something straight," he said, making me arch a brow as he stepped close to me, and somehow I could not be intimidated by a pretty angel that only reached my chest, but he still seemed keen on trying, "I do not like you. I know all about you and what you've done. You betrayed your creator and you sided with that monster. Rumor has it you still weep over his death, and I find that utterly abhorrent. Those who are tainted by evil should not be mourned. The only reason I treat you with the hospitality my Father values so highly is simply because of that; my Creator has commanded me to do so, so I will follow His orders. But that does not mean I have to like you or agree with anything about you. Simply having you here in Heaven makes my skin crawl."