Eager to please, Eloise vanished to obtain the key to the vault, including the permission to use it, leaving Michaeas and Stolas alone to work their way towards the annex in which the vault lay. Still shaken from the unwanted attention, Stolas consistently wiped at his lips, removing the cherry red stain that lingered there.
"You are bleeding," said Michaeas, mistaking the red smeared across Stolas' face for blood. Halting, he knelt down to Stolas' height and analysed the wound, one hand cupping Stolas' face and the other grazing across his lips. "It does not look severe, I cannot see a bite wound."
"It's alright, she did not bite me." Stolas moved Michaeas' cool hands from his face, and although he only saw a mask when addressing him, he could not help but look away as he explained. "She kissed me."
"What is a kiss?"
"Did you never learn that word?" Michaeas shook his head.
"A kiss is a token of someone's affection. But if that affection is not shared, it is violating. I'm sure you saw the look on my face." He laughed.
"Then, the blood?" The angel questioned.
"It is not blood, just her lip stain. It's something girls use to make themselves look pretty." The angel looked thoughtful for a moment before he stood up and they continued along their leisurely pace.
"I struggle to understand human relationships, you work together for common goals, but you never seem to like each other." Stolas barked out a laugh.
"While everyone possesses their merits, I have observed that almost all of the conflict in the world arises from unnecessary family drama and selfishness. Sons and daughters striving to overcome the deeds of their parents. Brothers and sisters competing for success and recognition. Parents preferring one child over the other for reasons as inane as age and sex." His eyes flicked up and he realised Michaeas nodded along, listening to his words intently. "Eloise, for example. She and I are mere pawns to maintain the alliance between Lazeria and Lohur, just as my father and mother were. Whether she truly loves me or has deluded herself into believing she does, I know the simple married life is not what she would choose, but the life of a hunter, a warrior. Now her brother is actually the one who fought in the war and remains in the southern territories."
"This is bad?"
"He is more inept than I am." laughed Stolas. "She is far better suited to the task. I cannot bear to think of how many soldier's lives have been lost in battle due to his incompetence… but my point is that she resents him. I suppose in the grand scheme of things I have been fairly lucky, my brother cares about my existence, even if he is a sadistic, war-ruined man. Although I have a father that does not even attend to me when I get attacked by an angel." Michaeas straightened up.
"That was not supposed to happen with such violence, he has been disciplined." Stolas took in a sharp breath.
"That happened under your orders?"
"Not mine, Tabaan's. You know his name, but it is improper for me to say it."
"I see," said Stolas as he slowed. "Why are you helping me so much? I understand what you said before, but to go to lengths such as punishing your own kind, healing my every wound and even convincing my fiance to open the vault, is it really curiosity?"
"Partly. You deserve a fighting chance. After all of this work you are putting in to rescue those we took from you, would it not be a shame for you to fall before you even reached the dungeons?" Stolas' eyes widened. "You interest me. I have never met a human like you before, and I want to see how far you can get before you perish." The angel's echoing words pierced him like an arrow to the chest and a lump caught in his throat as he subdued the urge to slap himself. Of course Michaeas knew why they sought to slaughter the angels, he just confirmed their guilt. To him, Stolas is just something interesting to play with. The same rang true for his own interest in the angel. He knew this and yet when put so blatantly the prince found himself… surprised.
"You intrigue me as well, Micha," He said with a crumpled smile, grabbing the angel's shoulder and spinning him around until they could feel each other's breath on their faces. Stolas' eyes bloodied and vessels burst until his black iris swam in a sea of red. "But do not be so bold as to assume it will be your victory." Michaeas shot backwards in a blur, confirming to Stolas what he already guessed. Those red eyes terrified him. A spark of anger flashed across the angel's face. Without making it obvious, Michaeas observed his surroundings and the subtle difference did not strike him at first, until his gaze settled on the flowers. For each exquisite rose, a fleshy clone sprouted from stems of bone with leaves of pale glistening skin. They pulsed with a steady heartbeat. The petals squirmed and writhed and instead of morning dew a spattering of blood coated them. Underneath his mask, the angel's eyes reflected the horrifying sight.
"Why did you-"
"You are scared of my power aren't you?" said Stolas as he approached. His heart hammered so loudly he could hardly hear himself speak, but for the chance to continue this conversation he swallowed his fear. "Of course the bottom line is to get me to your 'dungeons' alive, and I suspect it is down to the very same reason you took my people. The very same reason angels attacked Caine, Abel, my father. The very same reason for the kidnappings in Lohur. Tell me Micha, my friend, why are you doing this, what business do you have with humans?" The resounding silence across the gardens punctuated with the soft fluttering of Michaeas's cloak deafened him as he awaited his answer. Slowly, Michaeas raised his hand and wiped off the remaining lip stain from the prince's face, and with each passing second Stolas felt his body tense. As the angel leant in he refused to break his stare.
"It's about the souls of course," Michaeas whispered into his ear.
"Stolas! I got the key." cried Eloise excitedly as she ran over from under a nearby pergola. "I did not see you in the annex so I thought you may still be- oh my where is your friend?"
To Stolas her voice sounded like it came from under the pond, a faint echo barely discernible to the human ear. His gaze fixed itself to the ground yet he did not see it. All he could comprehend was the sheer enormity of what he just learned, and how it only gave him more questions than answers. He scrambled over every line of Caine's notebooks in his mind. Every copy of the Aschan testament he ever read and nothing ever mentioned the use of human souls. It only cemented one thing, and now he understood his use to the angels.
"They want me to make them," he muttered.
The relic vault offered nothing in the end, but as Stolas walked towards Kalou's chambers in which the company would have their unofficial meeting following the one with the Empress, he did not feel a single pang of disappointment. He considered his day wholeheartedly successful, and looking both ways for any guards or servants, he quickly slipped into the room.
"Look who decided to show up." said Caine with no small amount of disapproval in his voice. "You look very fancy, did you enjoy your date while we were out scouring the earth?" As soon as Caine's eyes reached his face however, he knelt forward in this chair and clasped his hands together. "Your eyes look a little red, what happened?"
"I have news." Stolas relayed the day's events, leaving out his uncomfortable encounter with Eloise. Kalou and Éirean sat in silence, absorbing the new information, whereas Caine's expression was one of utter confusion.
"Souls? Why would angels need human souls?"
"Micha was rather vague, but if we take into consideration how long they have been taking people we can only assume it's something big. It has been forty years since your altercation?"
"Try thirty you cheeky git. I'm not that old."
"Regardless, it has been some time, and we can assume it has been going for at least a few hundred years." Said Stolas as the angel's words at the gate came to mind. He spoke Lohurian almost perfectly after all. Kalou stood up.
"He said the word 'dungeons' right?" Stolas nodded. "Then they must be holed up in some kind of old castle. Somewhere defensible. Caine, you said their activity is concentrated in the East. Are there any abandoned fortresses towards the coast?"
Only a few moments later Caine slapped dozens of maps from different periods in history onto the table with Éirean marvelling at the craftsmanship and talent in the illustrations. The four analysed them deep into the evening, going over centuries of information where land borders shifted and the banners changed. Growing restless and frustrated, morale dampened and their eyes formed dark circles. Just as Caine went to voice his defeat however, Éirean cried out.
"Wait, go back!" They all let go. He shuffled through the papers forming them into a pile in chronological order and slowly peeled back the right hand corners of each one revealing the east coast of what is now Lohur, and one tiny island no bigger than grain of rice. They watched as the pages flipped and the label grew from identifying nothing into proudly displaying a village, a town, a city, then until in the end the settlement descended into ruin, and the island no longer featured on the maps at all. "The ruined city of Vlomont, it's perfect."
"I have never even heard of this place." said Kalou as he curiously circled the table and leaned in to get a closer look. "Although I suppose I would not, It disappeared over seven hundred years ago when Solions seemed to be no more than a fishing village."
It is perfect, thought Stolas as he bit at the inside of his lip. His mind started to wonder, but before he disassociated entirely, a tiny shriek practically bowled him over. The roaring red flames in the fireplace turned dark and emitted a timid light, plunging the room into the cool hues of night. This mysterious dragon was entirely black and resembled its egg, just as the drake did. The inky hue seemed to devour any light around it, making its form appear as though it were a living shadow, blending seamlessly with the darkness it created. Only its gleaming crimson eyes and luminous white teeth cut through the obsidian façade, giving a glimpse of its awe-inspiring features. Staring into those eyes felt like gazing into the heart of a smouldering furnace, leaving an indelible sinister impression. The dragon's teeth, sharp as icicles, contrasted starkly against its darkness. As it opened its maw to cry out once more, the teeth shone with a radiant luminescence, illuminating its face in an eerie, ethereal glow. The contrasting play of colours captivated them, drawing the gaze of all in the room. Its wings unfurled from its back, long and slender, adorned with an astonishing display of feathery black scales. The Innovia dragon. Stolas leaped in front of it and lay down low.
"What are-" Kalou started before Éirean covered his mouth with his palm. The prince's eyes widened in alarm and confusion as he tried to push off the soldier's arm.
"Shut up!" whispered Éirean harshly, formality discarded. "He is letting the animal gain his scent. It's part of the imprinting process you fool. My lord you would not have survived long in the dragon pits."