The spire of the Supreme Seraphim of the Golden City. Three o'clock, forty-eight minutes of the afternoon.
A dark office filled with muted light, barely penetrating through the blinds that barely let in God's light, made in the form of perfectly even, perfectly symmetrical and harmonious with each other in color rectangles, barely noticeable to the eye changing its position, when the seeking soul entered this spacious room.
Golden eyes, quickly noticed the flying dust particles, hardly noticeable in the stale air of the long unventilated office, and the nose was hit by the characteristic smell of heaviness, clearly perceptible to the soul that had just come in from the street.
Lute didn't even need to search the office with her eyes to spot the body lying among the paper, sometimes crumpled, sometimes torn, sometimes covered in liquid or food residue.
The victim's body had purple-blue feathers in three pairs of wings, clad in a white toga that had a small purple and white cape over its shoulders, diluted with gold inlays. The toga at the waist turned into a violet dress, fastened by a golden belt with inserts of violet rhombuses, made in a translucent fabric, as if made from a piece of space, where myriads of stars were visible, on the front of the dress was the usual "working" pattern for the robes of the Third Circle, and the victim's feet were dressed in tight shoes without heels, similar in style to the cape.
The lifeless, almost blank stare of the violet eyes, the halo hovering over the head, the light of the Seraphim barely glinting, and the face had an indifferent expression.
So too there were stains of liquid, probably tea or some milk drink, and the tips of the lips bore the marks of a recent meal. One whose wrappings were on the coffee table near the entrance, as Lut immediately noticed.
Her legs and arms were spread apart, her head practically buried in her gray-purple hair, and her barely open eyes didn't even pay attention to the entrant, who barely wrinkled her nose at the full range of smells in the air.
" Who killed you, Seraphim Bearer of Happiness?" - Lute asked a meaningless question aloud, slowly entering and deftly sidestepping the waste paper, sometimes filled, sometimes half-written.
" Work..." - wheezed a tired voice, barely audible over the quiet rustle of the blinds, which had begun to bang quietly against each other, clearly not fastened, which did not speak in favor of the mistress of the office.
"Do you need help, Mistress?" - Lute asked in a steady voice, stepping close to Seraphim and looking down at her. The Lieutenant's response was a strange mixture of mooing, wheezing, and some semblance of words as the God Servant's shell slowly rose. Lute immediately picked up Emily, who mumbled something in thanks, helping her to stand up and shake herself off.
"What day is it?" - Emily asked sleepily, wiping her eyes as if she were actually waking from sleep. It took Lute a moment to remember that Emily, despite being too similar to humans, didn't even need to close her eyes to keep the light out.
Lute thought for a moment that Lady Sera could also "sleep" without closing her eyes, as had been shown in many of the recent films of Paradise, or Joraso of the Stardust Crusaders, the protagonist who had demonstrated his training, skills, and adaptability, despite his young age of a quarter of a century, and considering who he was up against....
"Lut?" - Emily asked more cheerfully, noticing the Lieutenant's cheeks reddening for a moment as she barely audibly cursed to herself. - "Are you alright?"
"Perfectly fine, Milady." - Lute immediately perked up and pushed the thoughts out of her head, her voice smooth and clear, even if she hadn't stammered once before. - "In answer to your earlier question, today is the tenth of November in the year one thousand nine hundred and forty-seven of the New Age." - Lute's report was a familiar one, and Emily grimaced as she looked around the office, where the blinds were still drawn.
" Here we go again..." - Emily muttered, bending down and beginning to slowly pick up the papers, first the ones closest to her and then the others that flew up in a purple swirl, immediately laying down on the large desk, covering old parchments and some writing utensils.
" Mistress..." - Lut reminded herself cautiously, to which Emily jumped up slightly, as if she had forgotten about her.
" Oh, I'm sorry, Lut!" - Emily's voice returned to the notes Lut was accustomed to, though not completely. Lut suppressed a sigh as she stood still, watching Emily hastily arrange the waste paper, creating a semblance of order and sorting, searching between the layers of paper for writing pens and ink stains that were visible in the middle and on the edge of the table.
It wasn't the first time Lute had found Emily in this form, or condition. Last time it was a half-full bathroom with the shower on, where a tired and sad Emily sat eating some kind of ice cream.
"So... "- Emily paused, taking a deep breath, fixing her hair in a manner familiar to Lut. - "What did you want, again?" - Emily smiled awkwardly at her, to which Lut didn't hold back a sigh, allowing herself a small slack.
...
Emily was tired.
She wasn't used to talking, or even thinking about herself in that way, because up until then, most of the time, she'd thought of Sir and Virgil in that way, but not of herself!
"So Adam's asking about some documents from the Sin Department that were supposed to be...corrupted?" - Emily asked, receiving a tired nod from Lute, whose eyes were filled with irritation and a hint of anger that was not directed at her boss, but rather at the poor angel in that department.
"Mistress Eve recently decided to 'help'..." - Lute exhaled tiredly, slumping her shoulders. - "To an Angel from this Division for her own personal purposes, but due to her ignorance of modern protocols and regulations, the Mother of Mankind made a number of unknowing errors in the paperwork, from which..." - Lute stretched out the last word, speaking more and more slowly, to which already Emily sighed heavily.
" Eve messed up the R&D Department's paperwork for some reason, messing up the quarterly reports and now Adam is asking to clean up after his wife?" - Rubbed the bridge of Emily's nose, dropping her head into the palm of her hand, looking up at Lut's diverting eyes that said everything Emily needed without words.
No, Emily was happy for Adam. The wife that had been missing for ten thousand years had returned to him, and the man himself had endured more than a little grief! But what followed...
Emily was forced to admit that she had been wrong. She was beginning to understand Sera's anger, sharpness, and some impatience with some of Adam's jokes, and sometimes Adam and Lut...
After all, they could just ruin a mountain of work that she was the one who had to fix!
No, Emily had grown over the year to fully share Sera's opinion on such "antics" or "jokes" not only from Adam, but also from Eve, who wasn't far behind, for they were one in the same, Lord!
"It's one thing to watch it from the sidelines, but if it's your work that's being spoiled or deliberately hindered and obstructed, there's no patience, understanding and kindness left!", Emily thought as she worked on what Lut had asked for, finding in a couple minutes...
" These are... drawings of eyes and halos...?" - Emily tugged at the words perplexedly, trying to make out anything intelligible in the scribbles. Lut simply shrugged. - "A male figure standing next to... a wall with branches or sticks?" - Emily unfolded several sheets of paper to Lute, but she just shook her head negatively, not even trying to look at it.
" It burns." - She shrugged as she looked at the drawings again. - "Kind of..." - The woman immediately added uncertainly, tilting her head to the side.
Emily sighed, immediately getting to work on fixing or "cleaning up" the First Man's wife, sending Lut back to her, assuring her that she'd take care of the matter.
"More paper..." - Emily moaned, collapsing her head on the desk. Herve, who was delivering the stack of papers, glanced around the dark room awkwardly before quickly placing it on the desk, moving the sheets that filled the desk quite neatly and then flying out of the office.
Work, work and more work, followed by mental fatigue, the lack of sleep Seraphima was accustomed to every day, and a heap of stress from various situations where the Adam and Eve moments were only third on the list of her personal confinement, a prison woven from her own innocence and shortsightedness.
"Stupid Virgil and his Weaves, making these complicated things look so easy and simple...", Emily scolded to herself as she slowly read the Earth Division's next proposal to implement some sort of approach for the church, banning magic even more than it was now, hunting down heretical books, and so on....
"And that's just for today, because tomorrow it'll all happen again..." - Emily stretched out, closing her eyes, opening the window and letting the fresh air into the office with a thought. It had recently snowed outside, and the Righteous were clearly eager to get an early start on making snowmen, castles, and other things out of snow, playing snowballs and just having a great time....
Emily could have been among them too, befitting her title, but she, such a fool, had chosen to follow the example of her boyfriend-lover-closer who worked so hard and rested so much, clearly having gained forbidden knowledge somewhere, allowing her and Sera not to do this...
Emily took a deep breath, savoring the fresh air that clearly 'felt' like the first snow of the end of this year. Seraphim exhaled slowly, noticing that the afternoon wind had blown the paper around the office, for the windows, like everything in the Golden City, were high, and Emily hadn't bothered to limit the latitude of the window opening. Again.
Emily dropped her head back onto the desk again.
...No, she could have given most of the work to Sera, seeking to prove nothing more, the latter obviously fully understanding and supportive, but...
Emily needed something to fill her head with.
Emily, over the past few years, had long ago realized the approximate course of events of that ill-fated thirtieth year.
Virgil, who was up to something, had gone off somewhere, apparently 'saying goodbye' to her and Sera while Adam had flown off for his Division's annual training and practice. Virgil was part of, or responsible for, the Song of Light or the Punishment of God, and then... disappeared. Sera says he's dead, but she's lying, since she's bound by Oaths and Duty, and Adam, the creep, says he's looking for him, though he obviously knows something, especially since Eve came back.
Emily had also noticed that he'd been working too hard and having fewer "incidents" since his thirtieth year, or rather his thirty-first year, when he'd gone back to Earth to practice, before his wife had returned.
Previously, Emily would have dismissed those pieces of the mosaic, but after her extended interaction with Virgil, she decided for herself that that was when Eve... flew to Paradise? Emily didn't see how that would be possible, since no one tells her anything, but she's an intelligent soul, so she had her guesses.
"Plus, those nice dreams exactly on Adam's practice day..." - tapped her quill on Emily's desk, exactly in the small gap between the sheets of parchment for the Third Circle.
It was these "dreams" with Virgil's images, these sensations of his soul, or rather its semblance, that gave the Bringer of Happiness hope that Virgil was alive, not from Adam's or Lute's words, not from Sera's or Michael's innuendos, but by clearly confirming the truth of those thoughts and beliefs.
Virgil was alive, as Emily had become convinced, probably in Hell, either as a prisoner or as... A sinner? A fallen angel? Emily still hadn't found anything on the subject in the libraries, and Adam and Sera, along with the Shield Sisters, were stubbornly silent, annoying Emily even more.
Seraphim shook her head, shaking out her disheveled hair, small flecks of it falling onto the sheets. Emily would need to get herself cleaned up.
Preferably this week. Without another marathon for the purpose of forgetting herself.
No, when... Virgil was "gone"? Did Virgil die, or did he just disappear into Hell? Either way, their relationship, if not over, was clearly on hold for a while, Emily...
Didn't start looking for a new one, because she'd gotten along just fine without one. Instead, she was trying her best to cheer up Sera, who had fallen back into her old self and was drowning in work.
Emily decided to take at least part of the mountain of paper that Sera sorted out every day, trying to help her in some way and... Emily already regretted it, because now she could rarely go out to "bring happiness" and organize any events.
Geez, she even missed a couple of Amazing and Unique Paradise Fairs!
Emily counted the clouds passing outside the window while the paper flew around in some sort of dance, mimicking some sort of activity, while Emily tried with all her might to force herself to sit down to work.
"No, but who knew there was work... work at work!", Emily thought irritably, penalizing that stupid and naive self who had decided that she knew better and Sera could somehow spend more time with her....
Right now, Emily wanted only one thing. Sleep.
And eat some sweets. Preferably in silence, without the annoying Heruvs, the perpetually disgruntled Archangels, and the Seraphim making her nervous, because working with them Emily simply had no margin for error.
"Then... pack that stuff... pack that stuff and... go see Sera!", Emily came up with a plan for the evening, wanting to put an end to the misery of the last month and give herself a rest. A couple days, maybe weeks.
...And then she'd go looking for something about Virgil again, figure out how to coerce something out of Adam on the specifics of the "Virgil's in Hell and he's probably a Fallen Angel" hypothesis, and get used to the fact that her boyfriend might be a Fallen Angel, which meant....
She has to find the one on Earth or in Hell somehow, with the fact that she's not allowed to go either way.
Emily doesn't want to forget about Virgil, doesn't want to "move on" in any way. Not without definitive proof that he's forgotten about her too, but even so... Emily just wants to talk... to hug and kiss a long lost soul. To bask in his light once again and just get that Wonder he used to easily spread paper with.
Emily sighed as she watched the paper and parchment gather into stacks with a satisfying rustle, sorted by Circles, Departments, Divisions, and task types.
"The main thing is that Virgil is alive and well... in his right mind and soul, and there... we'll figure it out!", trying to remain optimistic again reminded herself of her own words over the last... almost twenty years.
Emily froze, thinking about that number, for she herself felt those years as two, maybe three or four years.
She shuddered, forbidding herself to sit too long at her work, because it was too time-consuming. Figuratively and naturally.
...
The top of the Supreme Seraphim Spire. Supreme Seraphim's office. A little later.
"...But... But... How can a soul that brought so much pain and sowed the seed of distrust be at the same time..." - hid her face behind Sera's palm, trying to formulate that storm of emotions into some semblance of words.
Now, hidden away from all the extra souls, almost alone with herself, alone with her thoughts again, Sera... Sera was confused.
She felt Anger, she felt Grief, she felt Betrayal and Understanding, she... Sera couldn't make sense of herself and for once there was no one who could understand her, no one she could be completely honest with without fear of revealing herself and violating her image.
" Sera, calm down." - The soft voice of the Speaker, who placed a palm on her shoulders, in an instant dispelled the darkness of emotion that surrounded her soul, allowing her to breathe more freely and nod gratefully to her interlocutor.
Speaking in the name of God. An ancient Seraphim, Metatron's right hand, delivering God's words personally to Sera and the rest of the Golden City, effectively being 'her superior' as the younger souls would say, increasingly replacing the older and tired souls of the Celestials and Righteous.
"In the midst of multitudes, you cannot find the truth." - The gentle voice, so pleasant to the ear, once again gave her pleasant "cold waves of the mind," dispersing her thoughts and allowing her to breathe more easily. - "Please, give yourself time and find the right words for yourself." - Lowered her palm, the Talking One lowered her hand and placed them together in front of her, looking at her with a soft smile.
Sera nodded, fixing her hair and looking over Seraphim's taller figure.
A long, blue-white, shimmering, robe that transitioned into "bottom feathers" at the hem, from which came several "tail branches" separated by large "feathers" between them, creating the semblance of a tail instead of the bottom of the robe. The long white sleeves rolled up and exposed palms with long dark claws, covered by large white and blue wings larger than Sera's own, three pairs of which proudly emitted a small glow, illuminating the room.
Long hair, as if it were part of her head and halo, developing in the invisible wind, shimmering with "stars". Long eyelashes coming from blue eyes that had no pupils in them, and above a small bird-like face, with a beak hovered three light blue blobs like the beams of a crown or hoop.
(Author's Remarks: Darlings, I honestly watched-listened to-thought of Vivzi's streamings, where she said something about a certain supreme Seraphim.... Here, I thought that I have Metatron, calling God on the phone, so why not add a similar character, but in the style of Vivzi, and there is also an image! The angels would not knock on the wall of the courtroom a simple picture with a unicorn and a bird).
(I also tried to draw my new OS (but the name might probably be next season, no idea, honestly), but figured you didn't need to see my horrible attempts at drawing...)
The Speaking One was the messenger of Lord Viceroy Metatron, the Last Become First, carrying the word to all who are destined to hear it.
Sera had heard that the Speaker was in the business of enlightening souls, or helping Metatron himself in some way, but rarely, often once every couple centuries, or at significant moments like this.
Behind the one smiling with her beak, bearing the title of Speaking in the Name of God, or simply Speaking, floated a large vertical halo with a multitude of rays outlining the center of Seraphim's Holiness. Several strands of hair, curved as if they were elements of jewelry, fell around the edges of the "bird's" face.
The speaker does not interfere in Sera's affairs, even though she stands above her in the hierarchy of Heaven, fully trusting her wisdom and discretion, but as Sera has heard and now knows personally, anyone can confess to her without fear of having their secret revealed or shamed.
Speaking voice for the last words, letting a drop of playfulness drip into the caring voice, along with the jocularity.
" If... If you had..." - Sera cast a glance at the Talking One, immediately averting that one to the window and the sight of falling snow. - "If Adam or another soul had..." - Sera immediately corrected herself, eliciting a playful shake of her head from the Talking One.
"You're hurting me Sera." - The Talker's smile grew slightly wider, and sparks of feigned condemnation appeared in her eyes.
" I'm sorry, I mean...!" - Sera began to bounce from thought to thought again, stopped again by the Speaking One's raised palm, followed by a calmness that came back. - "If the two souls had a... close relationship." - Sera averted her gaze, hoping the Godspeaker would think of her and Emily or Adam and Eve. - "If one soul..." - Sera continued, looking out the window while the Speaking One no longer interrupted the Supreme Seraphim in any way.
"Sera." - She put her palm on Sera's shoulder again, and the Talker flew up. - "Every soul has secrets, even from those closest to them". - She spoke softly but firmly as Sera avoided a direct gaze. - "Ask yourself. What would have happened if that soul had told the other about this 'secret'?" - The Speaking One's words filled Sera's soul with thoughts once again.
Sera thought again about what would have happened if William had told her about his idea. An idea that required a pact with the First Fallen Angel, an idea that, it turned out, involved Eve, that eventually ascended to Paradise, that William was also responsible for....
Sera... for once forced herself to admit to herself that she could understand William. He was afraid of her reaction, afraid of being forbidden his impudent idea that he wanted so much to realize and had worked so hard for... Sera only wished....
for William to tell her about it. She wished that Sera had heard about his plans from him, and not from fucking Michael, God forgive him, who had been pulled from his vacation because it seemed to them that the Devil himself had come out of Hell to launch the Third Invasion.
Instead, the Athanim brought William's mutilated body, with a broken halo and scorched wings. Sera had learned much from the Heresy Division's reports, and had rejected many of the Good Division's offers.
"...But what about the fact that this soul..." Sera continued, turning away as the Talker waited patiently for more words. - "Had done something unpleasant and bad? What if the second soul thinks it doesn't know the first now?" - Sera lifted a pitiful gaze, looking into the soft light of the Speaking One's eyes.
"...If things are really that painful for this soul, then she should forget about the first soul. Let her go." - pressed her voice, gazing intently at Sera, causing her fists to clench in a convulsive sigh. - "But, if the crimes before that soul's heart are not so great and catastrophic, then..." the Speaker continued more softly, flying closer to Sera and getting in line with her. - "They should talk. They should talk about what's wrong and end this chapter in their history." - The Talking One said firmly, just as Sera did, looking out at the falling snow and the setting sun.
" Even if a few rules have to be broken?" - Sera asked quietly, looking into the Speaking One's understanding eyes. - "Even if...it hurts?" - Sera asked vulnerably for advice, receiving a short nod.
- "If that soul wishes to continue their shared history and not cut it off, then they must both bear the burden and no other way." - Shook her head, three wings covering the smaller figure of Sera that was Speaking just below her chest.
" ...And the rules?" - Cautiously reminded Sera, receiving only a soft chuckle.
" Some rules can be broken, if fate allows." - said the unknowing Talker, to which Sera only smiled meekly.
They both watched the snowflakes fly by, each thinking about her own, each looking at the crystal particles, noting some of the irregularities and imperfections that fit so harmoniously into the overall harmony of order and chaos.
"Thank you for your time, Mistress Spoken." - Sera nodded gratefully, turning to her companion, receiving a similar nod.
"Not at all, child." - smiled, turning her head toward the door of her office. -" Especially when the wisdom of that soul was needed by two others." - playfully remarked the Speaking One on behalf of God, forcing Sera to 'listen' to the soul behind the seals....
" Emily?" - Perplexed and somewhat annoyed Sera asked, watching as the front door slowly and carefully opened, revealing the Elder Seraphim to one Younger.
" I'm sorry, Speaker, I didn't..." Emily bowed immediately, and Sera was about to rise to her defense, but they were both interrupted by the palm of the hand of the quietly laughing Speaker.
" Nothing, sweet souls." - The Talking One covered her beak with her palm, watching as Emily flew over to Sera, bowing again in a welcoming manner. - "After all, what's a simple piece of advice for those in need, much less..." the Speaking One's eyes twinkled with playful sparks, and Sera was already trying to think of a reason to escort the high ranking soul out. - "When such interesting souls demand advice, previously not needing even a simple conversation about it." - The Talking One shook her head slightly disapprovingly, immediately nodding toward Sera's desk.
"Please consider these reports, Sera." - She said more seriously, causing Sera to stop trying to hide Emily with her wings, not wanting to draw attention to her. -" Lord Viceroy Metatron is worried about what's happening on Earth, about those poor souls." - she said as she floated toward the office, glancing at Emily out of the corner of her eye. - "Lord Apothikarius Raphael's suggestion did not help, so Metatron, who has not waited for the voice of God, wants to try to solve this problem in another way."
Sera, along with Emily, nodded to the departing Speaker, who, without another word, walked off into the white light.
There was a moment of silence, during which Sera pondered the words of the Elder Seraphim... That God Himself had given no guidance for those poor souls who had suffered because of the Song of Light? Sera... knew that God had given them all a new trial, allowing them to resolve this tragedy themselves, but...
"If Raphael himself couldn't heal these souls, then... how did William manage to harm them in the first place, and in such a way that the Aspect of Life can't heal the soul's wounds?", Sera thought as she slowly floated over to the table, delving deeper into the document and...
Apparently Raphael had been able to find a way to ease the suffering of souls, but those... left 'scars' if not a 'mark' on the very soul of people. Whatever happened to those souls, whatever William did to them, Raphael and his Department could only fix half, if not a quarter of what had happened.
That alone suggested terrible thoughts about the depth of William's soul's fall, but... Like the Speaker had said, he and William needed to talk and only then would Sera draw conclusions.
" Sera?" - Emily whispered, which was clearly audible in the silence of the Supreme Seraphim's office. Sera raised a weary gaze to her Youngest. - "Are you mad at Virgil?" - Emily asked in a pitiful voice, causing Sera to sigh.
"Yes and no, Emily... I haven't made up my mind yet." - Sera admitted, for once, or rather for the first time in ten years, speaking frankly with Emily, that she hadn't noticed the passage of time either, having gone into herself with her, not noticing the deadline.
" Did he... do something bad that day?" - Emily asked quietly, folding her palms together, looking at her. Sera looked away, struggling to think of something. Something to answer and deflect the subject, something... Something... To lie to a dear soul. Again. But...
Sera, for some fucking time, wanted to tell the truth to her loved one.
" Yes, Emily." - Sera nodded as she returned to her paperwork, hearing Emily's surprised sigh. - "William did... do something bad." - Sera exhaled, reading the lines of Metatron's message.
"...He was the cause of the harm to those souls, wasn't he?" - Speaking more quietly with each word, Emily stared at the floor, lost in her own thoughts. - "But... Those souls... What about them? What was the Godspeaker talking about?" - Emily begged, and Sera paused to continue breaking her Oaths.
" I do not know exactly, for it is the little that is hidden even from me, for it is not part of my duties... But what has come to me from Raphael is a certain... " - Sera looked up at the dome of the ceiling of the study, remembering the exact wording of Raphael's Archangels. - "'Distortion process' of the souls of men that... strangely materialize or... embody the hidden things of each soul? Heaven doesn't know for sure yet, but it sees that 'distorted' people have become more impulsive, overly dogmatic and... fall into emotion and Sin more easily?" - arched her eyebrows at Sera, struggling to ease those canvasses of terms and references for a misunderstanding Emily.
Sera didn't fully understand the details herself, leaving those to the Department of Life.
Emily cautiously flew closer, glancing around the ajar door of her office, examining her desk.
" ...Couldn't people already be evil or horrible on their own?" - Emily whispered, looking carefully into the one the Talker had brought, expecting Sera to chase her away, but the latter simply nodded.
"It is their choice, influenced by their birthplace, their families and surroundings and wealth, but it is up to them to decide what they will become and how their journey will end, for which their deeds on Earth will decide their fate. "Sera nodded, looking at Emily's frowning face with a small smile as Sera told her what she had said long ago.
"That's not an answer and you know it!" - Emily exclaimed weakly, clearly nervous, glancing more and more at the open door that Sera was about to close.
"...Because of the Distortion, these souls have no choice." - Sera covered her eyes, speaking in a more mournful voice, bringing Emily's attention back to her. -" Like an innate disease, this phenomenon robs them of their will to resist, hindering and complicating the lives of the innocent, as if..." - Sera looked up from her papers, slowly rounding her desk and taking a seat in her chair. - "On one scale more than one weight was placed, and on the other some other weight, thus creating chaos in perfect balance."
In response, Emily only nodded, reading more openly into the documents, allowing Sera to begin her work, or rather continue on from the 'confession' of such a rare guest of Sera's office. As rare as Metatron.
"Do you think William deliberately decided to 'give' this to people?" - Emily asked, this time also not taking her eyes off the sheets.
" I don't know, Emily." - Emily shook her head. - "Adam still hasn't found him in Hell, where he fell to after the Sentencing." - Sera used all her courage, all her concentration, to tell this important part of their dear soul's fate to Emily in an instant, without thinking further, as she usually did, using William's method.
The younger Seraphim froze, stopping even to breathe, which was more of an unconscious habit, nurtured by living with Adam and the Righteous than a necessity.
"...He'll talk." - Emily said, in a voice that scared Sera and made her feel sorry for Adam for a moment.
...But remembering all the "childish" things he'd done with his wife over the past year, Sera immediately forgot that silly feeling, just nodding and hiding a small smile.
Sera only had to decide whether to tell Emily about that "gift" of Adam's, which according to the First could allow to somehow contact William, "establishing a stable connection", as the latter said...
And either the latter had asked his children to help her somehow, or... He had found William, which was what had made that seal, but somehow he didn't want to tell her.
" ...You know, Emily, Adam also relatively recently gave me one thing that might help me contact William..." - the words, almost slyly hidden behind Sera's distracted tone, drew Emily's eyes to the shell of the Elder Seraphima in a flash, whose smile grew wider as she abstractedly told Emily about Adam's 'gift'.
Sera only hoped she could decide "where" on the shell to put that strange seal she had to earn for the next Slaying. Maybe Emily could help her, or Sera would forget about that one again, immersed in her work....
Speaking of which, William was able to pass on the knowledge of the Song of Parchment and Quill to her, maybe Sera should tell Emily that too, what makes their shared work...
"By the way, Sera..." - Emily smiled embarrassedly, hiding her hands behind her back and nudging her wings. - "About work and papers." - Emily's tone didn't like Sera anymore, and the suspicions about the open door to the office, that small smile of the Talking One on the way out, as if she hadn't closed the door on purpose, leaving in the light....
"You don't mind, after all, you said yourself earlier that you could take some of my work..." - began to summarize Emily aloofly, Miracle bringing stacks of paper into her office while Sera could only see off those carloads of dirty and sometimes torn paper with wide eyes.
...And she was almost done, and there was still a good five, if not a dozen hours to go, given that Emily hadn't screwed up protocol or violated terminology....
Sera reconsidered helping Emily and decided to let her suffer for a couple more years. Maybe that way then she could learn to respect other people's labor and time while she rested herself.