Once again, credit goes to Jason Moore for editing this piece. This is my favorite chapter so far and I hope you'll enjoy it!
***
Angelo was the perfect little soldier. He moved when the Cardinal moved and spoke only when spoken to. He might be smaller than the three Angels but he did not skulk or hide behind them. Instead he carried himself with chin held high and senses on alert as the four of them entered the gates of Cyrus's fort.
"Archangel Zilarrezko, we are honored to have you with us," greeted a stunning Fire Ordinal. "My name is Brenna. Please come with me." Her sharp brown eyes lingered over Anthony before they returned to Zilarrezko.
Anthony didn't miss the silent invitation in her eyes. Maybe if he was younger –like Marcus –he would have fallen for it. In fact, Marcus and Angelo who behind him were exchanging looks and he knew why. The Fire Ordinal moved with such seduction; velvet hugging tight over swaying hips. Brenna might look subdued for a Fire Angel but Anthony knew that heat simmered beneath her façade. Those smooth magenta feathered wings would burst into flames when need be.
"Here we are," she finally said, bowing slightly as she ushered the Archangel in. When it was Anthony's turn, she spread her wings out to block the door. "The mortal boy... has no business here." Her eyes stayed focus on Anthony's.
"He is with us."
"Archangel Cyrus does not entertain mortals."
Anthony kept his gaze on Brenna even as he spoke, "Marcus, leave the boy with me. Go inside."
A wing closed to allow Marcus to pass. A few seconds later, Zilarrezko himself came to settle the problem.
"Let them in," he ordered.
"I can't do that Cardinal. It is against the rules of the court."
"Then you should be reminded Brenna... that this court would not even exist without my mother." The words were delivered slowly but the reprimand was a sharp slap on her face.
Both wings retreated shut and she allowed them to pass. This time, Zilarrezko made sure the boy was walking directly behind him.
Cyrus was at the end of the hall, sitting on what looked like a throne. His red hair gleamed against the fiery arch of his wings; a small smile on his lips.
"Zilarrezko."
The two Archangels exchanged curt nods of acknowledgement. Then Cyrus turned to Anthony.
"Brother."
"Cyrus," replied Anthony.
The smile on Cyrus's face widened slightly. "Well now, have a seat please. I'm sure the journey here has been exhausting."
"I am sure you know why I'm here Cyrus," said Zilarrezko ignoring his comment.
Cyrus gave a lazy shrug. "Perhaps I do but why is he here?"
"He is mine."
He laid a hand on Angelo's hand as a warning –both to the boy to remain still and to Cyrus so as not to touch him.
"If you insist. I do not wish to be distracted by the matter at hand."
"Indeed."
"Alas! My answer is no."
Zilarrezko stood up in protest. Was this how he planned to repay his mother's kindness? Towards the end of the Ice Age, she had conceded more and more European territory to Cyrus –allowing the Fire clan to establish themselves in the world once more. Archangel Sona did not believe in subjugating anybody. The Fire Angels deserved to live without fear or humiliation, she said.
His mother was wrong, obviously.
"Before you argue, let me present my defense," said Cyrus calmly. Zilarrezko narrowed his eyes but sat down once again. "As you know, Yuki's territory spreads all across Russia, right to the borders of Finland and Ukraine. Even Noor has the entire Middle East as a buffer –a region that is almost as big as my territory. Do you really expect me to put myself at the risk of an eastern attack?"
"And do you think she would spare you just because you choose to be a neutral party right now?"
"Of course not. Yuki does not think that way."
"And how does she think?"
Cyrus smiled at the mocking in Zilarrezko's voice. "You see, Yuki is very different from Iluna. If you had asked for my help then as you had asked Noor, I would have readily agreed. But Yuki... she has a mind and a heart as cold as her namesake. The moment she wins over your territory and your wings, she will consider herself indestructible. She will then want more."
Zilarrezko frowned. "So you're just waiting for me to die before you surrender?"
"Yes."
Anthony had to physically restrain his Archangel; sustaining deep cuts in the process for Zilarrezko had bared his sharp blade wings in anger.
"Please Zilarrezko, you are hurting him." His expression was one of smugness.
"I am not listening to another word from you!" he spat angrily.
"Your mother never said that to me," said Cyrus slyly.
"And you walked all over her. You mistook her kindness for weakness."
"Likewise in this situation. Surrendering only at the end is not a weakness Zilarrezko. It is the best protection I can give my people."
Zilarrezko was still standing but his wings were snapped shut. "I'm listening."
"My territory would be insignificant to her global conquest by then. Surrendering it freely would ensure no one is killed unnecessarily. A war requires sacrifices –something that I cannot afford. My Fire clan is the smallest and I do not keep a strong Valkyrie army. My region is one that produces culture; mortal pleasures if you'd like –music, wine, literature..."
The Metal Archangel knew Cyrus would not bend. When he remained silent, Cyrus continued, "I'm really sorry Zilarrezko... if there is anything else that I could provide for you, I would... but not war."
"I see."
The room fell into a hush as the Cardinals stared at each other. No one dared to say a word much less breathe.
Finally, Cyrus blinked and looked away; his gaze resting on his brother.
"Do you understand Anthony?"
Anthony did not say anything, simply crossing his arms to show disapproval.
"Come on... surely you have something to say?"
Anthony looked over at his Cardinal who nodded his permission to speak.
"Cyrus... You are not one to be unselfish. You feel certain that Zilarrezko will not lose and end up eliminating Yuki as a threat. In other words, you need not participate but reap the rewards."
Cyrus clapped his hands once and tilted back his head to laugh. "Oh how I've missed your dry sense of humor brother. I have been waiting for you to return home for so long."
Anthony's face was expressionless. "This is not my home Cyrus. If it was, I'd fight to keep its freedom."
Cyrus sighed and shook his head. "Ah... always the gloomy one. Well then my dear guests, I hope you would spend the night here before your flight tomorrow. It's the least I can do."
***
Cyrus, as it turned out, only provided them three rooms. Anthony had volunteered to share his room either with Marcus or Angelo but his Cardinal had taken the child in himself.
"You're expecting female company and Marcus is too young to be left responsible with a child."
Anthony wanted to protest but Zilarrezko had already closed the door gently in his face. He knew exactly whom his Cardinal was referring to and was dreading his encounter with her.
Brenna was already leaning against his room door, waiting for him.
"You shouldn't be here."
"Why?"
Anthony gave her an apologetic look. "I can't give you what you want."
She pouted –soft plump lips that would have sent a younger Angel to his knees.
He tried to open his door but her hand gripped his arm firmly. "I've waited for you for centuries... but you never came home."
Anthony turned to look at Brenna kindly. "I've already built my home with someone else. Good night Brenna."
This time, she let him go –too shocked and disappointed to protest –and Anthony quickly locked the door behind him before sitting on the bed. He had no idea how or why he had uttered that last sentence but now that he had...
"I'll talk to her tomorrow," he groaned before falling backwards onto the soft bed, thinking of the soft white wings of his ebony skinned Light Angel back home.
***
Meanwhile, Zilarrezko was sitting on the sofa watching the boy battle with the remote control to the television. He had instructed the boy to relax before bedtime; their discussion could take place the next day after a good rest. As such, he had expected Angelo to take a bath or perhaps lie down but the boy immediately switched on the boxed appliance.
Though he kept up with technology, Zilarrezko never took a liking to moving people on screen... but he was born in a time when humans still drew on cave walls so he should be forgiven.
"What's that?" he asked curiously. Two overly muscled men were trying to wring each other's neck. That didn't look much like fighting at all.
Angelo looked at him with disbelief. "You mean you don't know?"
Zilarrezko blinked and straightened his back in silent protest. "Surely it is unbefitting for a Cardinal to watch such... mortal affairs."
Angelo made a face and turned back to the television set. Zilarrezko allowed himself to watch as John something tried to trash a Vince somebody with a chair –or was it a ladder?
He couldn't help but grunt in disapproval.
"You don't like it?" asked Angelo somewhat miffed. "He's the coolest wrestler ever! Come on Cardinal... see? John Cena's totally winning the bragging rights for this one!"
Zilarrezko got to his feet and walked over to the front of the television –wings spread out and hands crossed over his chest.
"That's enough television for you. Now off to bed." He switched if off only to receive a groan in response. This was like dragging Lucian away from theatres and silent films all over again. "Look, if you want to learn how to fight, then watching that... whatever that is will not help you. If you want, I will teach you myself."
The groans stopped immediately. "Like really, really you're going to teach me?"
"Yes, but another time. Get yourself washed up now."
Angelo moved without a moment of hesitation. It was then that Zilarrezko knew he made the right choice not to bunk the boy in with Marcus. God knows those two would spend the entire night watching television instead of sleeping.
From the corner of his eye, he saw a blonde head peeking out from the bathroom.
"Yes?"
"Are you really going to teach me?"