An incredibly handsome man with long, flowing blonde hair and large teary green eyes that seemed to pulse under the streaks of sunlight. Honestly, if anyone saw him in public, they would call him angelic. His features were just too refined.
The man's foot steps were assured and unhurried as he walked down the modest hallway, passing by photos made by friends who were washed away by the ruthless march of time. In them, he didn't look any different did he did now. Even the constant small smile on his face was the same.
People of all backgrounds stood with a single figure as the focal point of each photo. It was a blonde woman with delicate features and bright blue eyes that paired greatly with her wide inviting smile that still to this day could quell even the most violent of people.
But as he progressed further down the hall, one by one the group of people fell and the girl grew older. That thick mane of blonde slowly beginning to thin and visibly smile wrinkles began to appear more often. But still, she was smiling just the same.
This continued until the very last photo. It only had 2 people present. An old woman with long, wispy hair that flowed like a river, deep seated wrinkles and those once vibrant blue eyes now clouded in gray. And of course, him who still looked the same.
He stopped in place as his journey came to and end, knocking slightly on oak door etched in Enochian runes that pulsed warmly as though to welcome any of who wishes. But he wouldn't be fooled, having sensed the amount of radiance that was jam-packed into ever line which could hold back even the most persistent of intruders.
"Lord Michael."
The maid said as she bowed deeply to the Archangel before her, opening the door for the man that just oozed power gifted and handcrafted by the God Almighty himself. Nodding, he stepped into the modest room that held something that most of his halls lacked. There weren't any grand displays of art nor were there any magic items that wished to draw the eye. It was just a simple room one would fine in any middle-class family's home.
The gentle crackled of the fireplace, a multitude of nick-knacks, photos and books were laid uniformly all around the room. Honestly, this place felt like it was the closes he would get to actually being home.
Before him, a young girl with long light brown hair that was tied up in adorable looking twin pony tails. She sat primly with a book in hand and softly read aloud the words to a woman that looked like she was on her last legs. Who just laid there with her eyes close and a small smile that was like a mirror image to the one's in her youth.
Michael stood back for a few seconds as the youth finished up. A sense of amusement welling up in his chest as he spotted a serious looking girl with short blue hair just off to the side, her yellow eyes downcast as she bowed. She looked slightly flustered as she practically screamed at her friend to hurry with her gaze alone.
"Thank you Irina for keeping this old woman company."
The gray haired woman said, her smile growing wider as she gentle patted at the girl's hand. Who stopped in her reading before sending a smile of her own that seem to brighten up the room.
"It was no worries, granny."
She cheerily, a hint of youthful awe filling her voice. Michael had to hold back a small chuckle that wanted to escape, the youth taught in there schools all grew up with stories of this legendary woman and this girl made it her business to humanize the myth. And judging from the Saint's lack of reaction, she had long stopped trying to correct the girl.
"You are dismissed Irina." Elizabeth said with a verbal eye-roll," You too Miss Xenovia. It was very nice to meet you."
"The honor was mine Saint Elizabeth." Xenovia said stiffly, practically dragging the bubbly girl out of the room," Then please excuse us Saint Elizabeth, Lord Michael."
Nodding slightly, the two watched as the pair practically flew out of the room with Irina bowing one last time before closing the door behind her.
Looking down, he took in the legend's form. She was old. Oh so incredibly old. Deep wrinkles etched into her face and honestly made her look like a raisin past it's expiration date. Her long gray hair practically pooled under her and filled the blanket in a sea of silver.
Her long finger were cupped in such a way that if he hadn't her speak, he would've assumed she was lying in her casket.
"It's nice to see you Lord Michael."
She said, and instantly it brought back deluge of memories to the Archangel. The adventures and battles they fought side by side, experiencing the world together and building up the organization itself. Elizabeth was Michael's last remaining friend in this world. And knew only her company kept back the march of time on his heart.
"No need for that old friend." He said, smiling while taking the seat vacated by one of his most talented exorcist," And why are speaking as though it has been years? I was here just last week."
"A day, week, month or year." She shrugged her thin shoulders," It all means the same."
"Hmmm." Michael decided to humor her, pretending that what she was saying wasn't complete nonsense. He wasn't aware of when it happened, but she had started to spout out nonsense in such a way that it sounded profound in some way. Most people attributed it to her age, but he knew it was because she still had that mischievous side to her. "Gabriel wanted to be here but issues popped up."
"That's a shame," She said," But I'll see her next time, we have that afternoon tea in a couple of days."
"While it is nice to see you, I don't wish to take up too much of your time."
She continued, probably noticing the man's pause.
And he could only sigh, his smile slowly dropping as he pulled out a report that had landed on his desk a few days ago. It was shocking, unwanted and dread inducing news that he had to hold back from just shooting over here immediately. It wouldn't do anyone any good if their leader was spotted being harried.
"He's back."