Wynter didn’t know what she expected but it definitely wasn’t this. The door opened to a place that certainly should not be above a Chinese restaurant. A lobby wide and long enough to be a hotel reception area had floor to ceiling windows that reveal the whole of Arizona below, a brilliant cacophony of lights and sound. And all around them, moving about with the buzz of business about them, were people.16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHl26Mw0uAh
And hardly normal people.
If you’re thinking people in business suits and briefcases, it was none of that.
There were men and women in all black, clad in leather pants that stuck to them like second skin and instead of perhaps a jacket, they wore long-sleeved shirts that looked like scales that rippled about them as they moved. Not to mention, they were armed to the teeth. Seriously, they were strapped in so many variations of weapons, it made Barbara’s collection look like a garage sale.
As she and her brother stepped off the elevator to allow the people to climb in, she saw that their weapons were made in the same manner as Barbara’s bows and arrows as well as Evan's sword. Glowing blue metal etched in live runes that slithered up and down their length.
And they were hardly the only ones with a strange take to a black tie party because if they dressed like warriors bred to kill, the people standing by the windows dressed like the Pope’s close associates.
In a perfect contrast, the men and women dressed in white robes that fell around in rivulets of silk, the women’s long skirts caught in a nonexistent breeze while the men’s trailing capes…well, was utterly ridiculous to be honest. Clearly Superman was not dressed in white for a reason.
They made their way to the reception desk where a thin woman in white sat in front of a screen. The desk was littered with…paper planes?
“Um, hi miss?” Evan cleared his throat and the woman looked up. She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear and glanced askance, “Yes? Can I help you?”
“Yeah, er, we were hoping to get an audience with the Head?”
She arched her brow and then dismissively turned to her screen and began typing away, “Young master, the Head is very busy. If you have nothing significant to report then I suggest you-”
“But we do,” he interjected, “We know where the demons are.”
The woman looked up at them in alarm, “How can you possibly know that?”
“They chased us here!” Wynter said impatiently, “Look, just take us to the Head.”
The woman hesitated for a moment then reached for a piece of paper and a pen and began scribbling. When she was done, she folded it into a simple plane and threw it into the air. It should have immediately fallen after five seconds of flight but it didn’t. It shot through air like a jet and zoomed down the hall, up some stairs and out of sight.
Before Wynter could process what happened, the woman spoke, “Climb the elevator behind me,” she gestured and there, she couldn’t believe she didn’t notice, was two gilded elevator doors, “Press the topmost button and head straight down the hall to the Head’s office, okay?”
They nodded and thanked her then climbed the elevator. The interior was much different from the earlier one. Reflective gold walls all around with a long row of buttons on the side. Evan pressed the button at the top and a woman’s voice in cool tones announced, “Arizona Sanctum, Head’s Office.”
The floor jolted beneath them and they headed up, steady and slow. Wynter glanced at herself in the mirror and frowned. She looked like a scarecrow’s wife. Her pale hair looked like it went through shock therapy, the strands standing on end every which way. Her dress, once pressed and neat, was now nothing short of a thrift store hand-me down, crinkled and stained in mud and something dark and sticky. Ew. Not to mention her face, blotchy and red and…was that a pimple on her nose?!
“Ugh! Gross. I’ve never been this disgusting in my life!” She wailed as she racked her hair down then cautiously lifted her arm and smelt her pit…then immediately gagged.
“EW!”
Evander’s lips twitched dangerously and narrowly dodged a sharp elbow to the gut, “What?! It’s not my fault you smell worse than gym socks.”
Wynter’s eyes flashed and she swung for his head. He dodged, laughing.
DING!
The doors opened with a swoosh and several Seraphim entered. They got shoved into a small corner as the air filled with chatter and buzz.
“Did you hear about the new deaths cropping up in the Vermillion cliffs?”
“Yes. They has made it passed the wards”
“It's like the Dark times all over again”
“If we don’t contain the threat before the humans step up, it will cause an uproar.”
Murmurs of agreement went all around and for the first time, Wynter paused to think about all that happened. Why were the demons chasing them? What about these scrawny little orphans was worthy of a legion of beasts to infiltrate their home? Was there a reason they were abandoned on those cold stones all those years ago? Was there a reason…their parents never came back for them?
Her reverie was broken when the woman’s cool tones sounded again, announcing their floor.
“Head’s Office.”
The doors slid open and they pushed their way out, the doors closing to the continued murmurs of the Seraphim behind them. Wynter looked around. There was still the brilliant view from the windows on either side of them with the cacophony of city noise significantly less since they were way up. They’d entered what was clearly a waiting room with black and white checkered tiled floors. The furniture itself held true to the colour palette: alternating coloured sofas of fine leather sat systemically around the room and next to them were small tables upon which were fine geometric art pieces like mini paintings or stationary moving objects. It was bougie and very niche…but cool.
At the far end of the room was a wide black door with a golden knob. They approached and Evan gave it a sharp knock.
“Enter,” called a calm voice from within and with a slight pause, he turned the knob.16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjA4Ywoi5gG
Taking in the sight of the Head who stood behind her ebony desk scatted with countless unfolded paper planes with her hands behind her hands, Evan had to say, he felt a slight heat in his neck. He thought all this time that the Head was a man…yeah, absolutely sexist right?
But to be fair, his assumption was well warranted when you took a good look at her office. Ignoring that the desk being nearly black everything was quite depressing grey. The two walls on the left and right were bookshelves with books coloured coordinated to every shade of grey you could think of, there were light grey tiles, dark grey decorative pieces, little paintings painted in what colour? Grey.
If there was anything that gave at the very least a hint of warmth, it died alone and afraid.
That’s why when the Head spoke, Evan had to hide his shock.
“Afternoon, children!” she said warmly in an upbeat tone that rang like a bell, “Sit, sit! I’ve been expecting you.”
You have?
They sat at the two leather seats in front of the desks but the Head didn’t sit down instead she leaned over and shook their hand politely, her silky black hair falling gracefully around her attractive face.
“I’m Amelia Aviatrix, Head of the Sanctum as you obviously know. And you are?”
“Evander and Wynter Nighlark,” he said for them, noticing how her dark blue eyes narrowed slightly.
“Of course, the Exile’s charges! I thought she was making that up.”
Evan’s brow furrowed, “You know Barbara?”
“Know her?” she gave a light chuckle as she took her seat, a new burning curiosity alight in her eyes, “We were friends once upon a time.”
She smoothed the creases of her evergreen pantsuit, “She, of course, told me quite a bit about you two. How the increasing demon sightings were related to you.”
“So, you already know about them chasing us through town?” Wynter asked.
“Of course, I’m the one you suggested she bring you here. There is nothing that happens in Arizona that I’m not aware of,” She gestured to her desk where a serving of tea and cookies sat on display, “Please, help yourself.”
None of them moved. It took a moment for that to sink in…
“You knew they were after us,” he didn’t say it like a question.
The woman eyed them for a moment, her initial warmth fading into an unreadable expression, “Yes.”
“Why?” Wynter leaned forward, her expression tense, “What aren’t you telling us?”
She blinked, a slight frown formed around her pressed lips, “She didn’t tell you? Typical. Green was never one for the honest approach.”
“Miss Aviatrix, why haven’t we found out about the Seraphim until now?” he asked, a dark suspicion growing from the pit of his stomach.
She glanced at him, “Because it was a secret. An order from your parents.”
A sharp intake, “Our parents?” Wynter breathed.
“Yes, they brought you here, far from the supernatural realm but near enough so if the need rose, we could take you home. When you were ready.”
“You still haven’t told you why,” he pointed out.
Aviatrix leaned forward, her gaze taking on a dark sheen of caution, “Are you sure, young man? The truth was kept from you for a reason.”
“Tell us.”
“They hid you here because of the Prophecy.”
“What prophecy? What are you talking about?” The air seemed thin or was the collar of his shirt tightened?
Amelia leaned in even further and for a moment he thought he could see the trap snap shut.
“The prophecy where one of you must die…to save the world.”
16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMXRVMQ5gYg
