When Stars Collide || On Hold

Preface

THE WIND HOWLED with fierce conviction, whipping through the wispy, dying branches of the shrubbery. Dirtied brown and red and yellow leaves lined the broken stepping stones that sat barely visible under the overgrown grass. The moon shone in full, casting a milky, iridescent glow down upon the cracked and beaten stone. Trees sitting atop the grassy hill brushed at the bottom of the moon's outline, jagged shadows falling on the frigid ground.

The white season was a few moons away, still, death slowly but surely had begun taking hold of the seemingly vacant lands. The names and dates that once engraved the front faces of the stones had faded several decades ago. The only legible words in sight rested on the curved, stone slab above a set of doors carved from the same stone.

En Memorantia du Salvodeus.

"Are you sure this is where it's located?" she whispered, shifting her weight uncomfortably. Though she was sure nobody had followed them, she still felt invisible eyes on her, causing the exposed skin where the holes in her jeans didn't cover to raise. She wasn't even sure if he had heard her faint whisper of a voice over the wind, about to ask her question again when, finally, he spoke.

"Your father said it was the mausoleum built into the side of a hill; do you see any others?" he asked rather curtly, casting a sidelong glance down at her. Never had he looked into such a hard pair of eyes, her gaze was that of the Greek's Medusa. It was something else...

"He also said there would be an angel before the doors," she snapped back, her eyes throwing daggers in his direction. And suddenly he was back from the daze he was in. Coming here was ridiculous, nothing good could possibly come from this mission. "Do you see an angel, Sage?"

"Yes, Thistle, I do." His sapphire eyes matched her stoney glare, unwavering. After a moment of silence, she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, not understanding. "He said there would be an angel before the doors to the mausoleum–"

"I just–!" she attempted to speak but he held up a firm hand, silencing her without missing a beat, as if he hadn't been interrupted.

"He did not, however, say what kind of angel, you merely assumed it would be made of stone." He eyed her warily and shook his head, it was clear that his meaning still eluded her. How he longed to be that innocently ignorant. "You are the angel of which he spoke," he huffed, as if that was obvious.

There was a long pause, he felt the muscles in his jaw tense, the arch of his eyebrow as he watched the comprehension slowly but surely take hold of her features.

She opened her mouth as if to speak again, but was interrupted by the grating sound of stone against stone. Both their heads snapped to the heavy set of doors, watching as they creaked open of their own accord. The shudder that ran down both of their backs was involuntary. The hair on the exposed parts of their skin stood straight up. And as quickly as their bodies had reacted in fear, they both inwardly groaned.

"That was tacky," she said dryly, any trace of shock wiped from her face. "Even for Lucifer."

"You know the Daemonium, everything they do is melodramatic," Sage chortled. "Ridiculously overzealous creatures, that lot." A laugh rumbled through his chest, hearty and deep. She even managed to laugh along with him, this man that she tried to dislike ooh so very plainly.

He ducked his head ever so slightly under the frame, his eyes scanned over her, taking in her small frame. He couldn't believe he, out of the whole graduating class, was the one chosen for this Assignment. "Princess," he mocked, extending a hand for her to take, to lead her down into the depths of Hell.

I wonder if Dante was right about the Inferno, Sage pondered, a smile taking hold of his features as she placed her tiny, delicate hand into his open palm. Perhaps Earth was the first level...