Still in the library, Haneul’s eyes skimmed over the books around her. The texts she usually loved to immerse herself in just couldn’t seem to hold her attention today—riveting titles such as Architecture Through the Ages, A Green Thumb’s Guide to Divine Flora, and, of course, the famous passages of Nature’s Aubade: A Lunar Laud of Longanimity. The last was a terrific essay about the two moons shared by the Divine and Abyssal realms and their prominence as a timeless reminder of treaty.

    The moons had names. Aos, the moon more closely connected to the Divine realm, was always visible to the angels at night, bright and shining in a bluish hue amid the darkness. Eris, more closely connected to the Abyssal realm, was visible to the angels only during the day, appearing faded like a red mirage in the sky. The demons’ view of the moons was reversed, so Haneul had once read, with Eris at night and Aos during the day. Though Eris was smaller, both moons were still very large and provided a wondrous spectacle at any hour. When not reading about them, looking up at the moons was one of Haneul’s favourite things.

    But she had had enough of reading for today. She was restless, needing to get out and stretch her wings regardless of whether or not her father wanted her leaving the palace today. It was beautiful out—the sun was shining with hardly a cloud in sight. Staying inside seemed like an absurd idea.

    Returning the books to their proper shelves, she was just about to leave when she noticed a single, large scroll laying out of place. It wasn’t even so much in the wrong place as it was simply crooked, and Haneul was so attuned to the layout of the palace library that it was enough for her to notice. It wasn’t a scroll she or Youngjae would have retrieved—scrolls generally contained dry, uninteresting information kept merely for archive purposes such as legal documents, records, and schematics—but she hadn’t noticed anyone else in the uppermost level of the library with them that afternoon. This scroll in particular appeared to contain details of the palace’s construction, such as the materials used, expenses of the project, and a copy of the original blueprints. Haneul shrugged and put it back without much further thought.

    She made her way through the main tower of the citadel, turning down a large hallway with large, open archways along one side and a door at both ends, each transom light adorned with stained glass depictions of nature. Sunbeams soaked through the air, giving it a golden tint. A young man stood watching the realm below go about its daily business; Eris loomed above the horizon watching over in a similar fashion. Haneul’s face brightened as soon as she saw him and he noticed her presence as well, recognition quickly flashing across his expression. He turned and held out his arms with a big grin, and Haneul eagerly went to them.

    “Peace within your heart, Cheonguk Ddal, it’s been a long time. How have you been?” he asked as they pulled apart from their embrace.

    “Jongin, since when did you become so formal? I’ve been well, thank you,” she replied warmly, and he nodded.

    “I guess you're right. Even if you are the Daughter of Light, to me you are simply…Haneul,” he smiled. He then put on a mortified expression, holding up his hands in repentance as he jokingly added on, “For dishonouring thy grace's title, please forgive my sinful words!” He topped it all off by bowing deeply, and Haneul laughed.

    “How is the training going?” she asked.

    “Good, they say we’re getting close to harnessing our inner powers,” he trailed off, thinking proudly about his progression in the training field, “Sehun and Chanyeol have already discovered theirs, and Joonmyun says Kyungsoo is getting very close as well. I think I am too, I can feel it. And then it’ll just be Baekhyun left before we’re all finally empowered.”

    “You mean…like the demons?” Haneul whispered, and Jongin shook his head, not liking the comparison.

    “Soon, our team will be the best defenders this realm has ever seen,” his eyes twinkled with ambition, “We will have mastered the natural elements, able to harness them at our very will. Not like those blasted demons and their strange, mutated powers… Nothing is natural about those damned beings.”

    “You know, they say the Abyssal forces have a demon that can heal, just like us angels,” Haneul said carefully, having heard such gossip among Divine commanders.

    Jongin spat in distaste, “A demon is still a demon, no matter how similar they think they are to our kind. There’s a reason demons don't have wings, you know—they will always be below us.”

    Haneul thought better of mentioning that some demons did in fact have wings, as yet another of their many mutations. She was quiet for a moment, but then shook off her uneasy feeling, grabbing Jongin's hand as she pulled him away for a walk through the palace. She hadn’t seen Jongin since his training with the Ancients had begun; she couldn’t tell anyone about it, either, as her father had insisted on keeping the team a secret until they were ready. They had so much catching up to do, and the rest of their conversation was exchanged not through words, but rather through the clasped hands of two old friends.

. : .

    “What are you doing here?” Yongguk asked in surprise, and Junhong avoided his condemning eyes. Junhong was a young angel Yongguk had practically grown up with. He regarded him as a little brother, which made his concern even stronger when he had showed up to the gathering.

    “The peace in your heart is simply overflowing,” Junhong replied cheekily as he held his palm out in greeting, “It’s good to see you too.”

    Yongguk’s palm met his, and he let the matter go. As far as he was concerned, the boy was still too young to get swept up in serious matters like this, but he also knew there would be no talking him out of it. Junhong had always admired him and supported everything he did. At the very least, Yongguk knew he would be a dependable advocate of his cause.

    After the appearance of the Archangel’s guards in the courtyard, Yongguk had become more careful with whom he chose to share certain sentiments. Even with this added precaution, however, it only took a couple of days to get word to those who needed to hear it.

    Yongguk’s father was a skilled stonemason, a profession highly praised in the Divine realm as it involved turning something as pure as rock into something both beautiful and practical. It was an art that required skill and years of devoted experience. Stone was also very absorbent—of energy, that is. Some may even have called it magic. Whatever the energy was, only the Ancients knew how to harness it, and they utilized primarily stone tools to do so. Yongguk’s father provided most of these to the palace—odd little trinkets, talismans, and sometimes even weaponry. He did not question the designs or the purpose; he only built them. Angels didn’t use fatal weaponry since murder of another living creature was an unspeakable sin, but once imbued with the Ancients’ energy, the weapons needn’t kill their target. They were powerful enough that violence was not necessary.

    His father’s shop was a second home to Yongguk, as he had spent much of his childhood around the rock-dust laden workbenches learning the craft. Junhong often kept him company. Though spacious enough, the size of the shopfront where Yongguk’s father did his work was dwarfed by the large depository for storing wares that was behind it. Crude slabs of rock delivered by the ton, extra tools, scrapped projects, and finished pieces awaiting shipment cluttered the otherwise barren room, arranged in rows and piles with no apparent pattern. Along the easternmost wall near the door, however, was a clearing amid the clutter—a clearing just large enough for the group of angels that now stood there, listening to Yongguk speak.

    The enclosed establishment offered a more intimate setting for Yongguk to get his words across. There would be no guards intervening this time; the only ears here were ones that wanted to listen. The angels who had gathered were mostly just strangers, albeit strangers united by genuine concern for their realm.

    “Peace within you, comrades,” Yongguk began, “I think it’s obvious why we’re here today.”

    Nods swept through the group; glances were exchanged. Something had to be done, and Yongguk knew that the capable young angels in front of him might be just the visionaries to help him make it happen.

    “While favoured belief may have the majority of our realm thinking that our leaders are taking adequate measures to protect our homes and families, it is becoming increasingly apparent that this is not the case,” said Yongguk, pausing just a moment for good measure, “And so it falls to us to take action. We must tread where others fear to venture. We must spread our wings in protection over those who cannot protect themselves. We must stand today, so that we may stand tomorrow.”

    The look the group of strangers gave to Yongguk was unanimous. It was one of respect, one of admiration, one of near idolization. One young citizen named Jongup—a boy still in his adolescence, probably not much older than Junhong—stepped forward to speak.

    “I will stand, brother,” said Jongup, and others began to join him.

    “I will stand.” Another had stepped forward, and Junhong and Himchan grinned at each other.

    “I will stand!”

    From the edge of the group, Youngjae and Daehyun glanced around as the chorus grew louder, then held their heads high with the others.

    “I will stand.”

. : .

    A world away, a young demon was making his way through familiar streets. A sleek, well constructed metal jungle, the Abyssal capital was a bustling metropolis. Skyscrapers pierced into the jagged skyline like teeth, holding the clouds captive in the tight steel jaws of the civilization that lay below. Crowning the land stood a black, metal insignia of power—the Free Realm's Fortress, aptly named so for the intense sentiment of unity and patriotism shared by all demons. As a species of misfits, the demons had always been ostracized by angels for being imperfect, flawed, different. In their own realm, demons lived as they pleased. But upon seeing the way demons had come to treat each other—the bitter anarchy that had evolved, the vast division of power and wealth, the antagonism and hostility amongst a realm of so-called brethren outcasts, and the self-empowered, tyrannical government—one began to wonder about the perception of ‘freedom’ within the Abyss.

    The young demon headed towards this fortress was named Myungsoo, though his titles were countless. ‘Shadow Walker’ was the most common of these, because of his particular power. He was able to sink away into shadows in the blink of an eye, making himself completely invisible. An ability like this was not only a valuable asset to the Tyrants’ army, but also one they wanted to keep an eye on. Being one of their soldiers meant great honour, but it also meant obedience. The Abyssal leaders wouldn’t want any powerful demons acting out against their own interests. Myungsoo had been taken at a young age to be trained under direct command of the Archfiend, and to this day he upheld his reputation as one of the best assassins in the Tyrants’ arsenal. Lately, however, the targets he had been assigned were a little farther from home.

    “Grass still greener on the other side?” Shrill laughter greeted him as he entered  the fortress’ main chamber, and Myungsoo immediately dropped to one knee before the Archfiend’s throne. “Tell me, how is that old mook doing these days?”

    “The Archangel is in good health, m’lady,” Myungsoo reported.

    “Shame,” the Archfiend replied, then gestured for him to stand.

    The Archfiend was a dangerous woman. Though just as old—if not older—than the Archangel, anyone who didn’t know better would never be able to guess it. She did not consume food; she consumed energy. Her ability was a formidable one, as she could draw the very life force from any living thing she touched. From this, her face and body were as youthful in appearance as any of the young soldiers that served her, and they would remain this way for eternity so long as she continued doing so.

    This was another duty as an Abyssal soldier. For the ones that she liked, she often showed mercy, only drawing small amounts of their energy at a time, as if taking a sip from the brim of their life pool, which would be replenished with one or two quality nights’ sleep. Anyone who got on her bad side, however, was not extended this merciful consideration. As punishment for disobeying her, or sometimes even simply irritating her, she would every last drop of life out of them if she so wished to. Sadistic if nothing else, she usually did. Death would come quickly, though the last few moments of your existence were guaranteed to be spent in agony.

    “So? Get on with it then, what do you have to report?” she hurried him along, already bored and fancying a snack. Strong young men like Myungsoo were her favourite, but he was simply too valuable to expend on such a whim.

    “The Palace of the Ancients is an impressive pile of rocks they have up there, though the majority of the upper levels are only accessible through flight. There are no stairs. A circular chasm runs down through the centre of the tower, giving access to every floor from the middle-most rooms; other than that, the only way to get around is through the archways on the outer surface of the citadel. They’re like doorways, but slightly larger and always open. I got a hold of the original blueprints for the tower, but I’m not sure if there are any defence mechanisms or ways to close these entrances. Each one has a guardian situated near it at all times.

    “The lowest levels have regular citizen access; libraries, dining halls, civil posts. Above that is mostly lodging for guards and other working class residents of the palace, while the highest levels contain the royal family’s living quarters as well as that of other dignitaries. The top level, of course, is the Ancients’ Alcove. The only thing beneath the tower is a series of tunnels, most likely leading to chambers reserved for militia and discreet government proceedings.”

    “As expected,” the Archfiend glanced down at her freshly done nails lazily, “Even in such a large hiding place, none of the nobles will be too hard to find. The palace remains unaware of your presence, correct?”

    Myungsoo hesitated for just a moment, but it was long enough for the Archfiend to notice.

    “Correct?” she asked again, though she really disliked ever having to repeat herself.

    “Yes,” Myungsoo assured her, though he knew lying would only get him into hotter water than he already was. “There is a girl that frequents the libraries, and she noticed a scroll I may have left slightly out of place. She didn’t think anything of it, though.”

    The Archfiend still seemed displeased. “Come here,” she said.

    Myungsoo held her steely gaze, but did not move.

    “I said come here, boy.” She narrowed her eyes, having repeated herself twice now. Myungsoo knew he would probably regret pushing her to three, so he walked over to the tall throne upon which she was seated.

    He knew it was coming, but he couldn’t stop the wave of nausea that swept over him as the Archfiend grabbed his chin harshly in her hand. Sharp pains rippled through his body while a dull throb pounded in his head like a war drum, and with each pulse his heart and every other muscle in his body seemed to slowly grow weaker. Her eyes glowed a brilliant red—the colour of blood—and the faint dark circles beneath her lids disappeared.

    “I didn’t send the Shadow Walker out just to step into a spotlight. I don’t care which Ancient it is, but I want one dead before Eris is next born.”

    She was referring to the new moon but, still only a waxing gibbous in the night sky, Eris would still be around for well over a fortnight. That was plenty of time for Myungsoo to devise a more careful plan. He was not one to rush into things unless necessary.

    The Archfiend finally let go of him and his blood stopped feeling like acid in his veins. It took all his effort to remain standing; if anything, he would make sure to leave this room with dignity. Not bothering to ask to be dismissed, he bowed curtly, only to have the blood rush out of his head when he returned to an upright position. Still, he didn’t wince until he had turned away from the Archfiend. Prey never showed weakness towards a predator, this much Myungsoo knew.