It started with a look.

Quick. Fleeting. A fraction of a second. Gold flecked blue crossing crimson in passing.

It was a glance that could have meant dire consequences if seen on the battlefield. But no, this was on neutral ground. The trade house bustling with seraphim, cherubim, and nephilim intermingled with daemon, wraith, and other abyssal creatures conducting business side by side as if there wasn't some millennia long war being waged just beyond the gates of A Sapah Salamann. But accorded neutral land was accorded neutral land and punishment was swift and unforgiving for those who violated the most sacred of treaties. It shouldn't have meant anything to briefly catch the eye of one of them. After all, tales told of their covetous ways, their jealousy of the celestials.

Little did I know, it was a glance that would mean my downfall. My arms were loaded with various sundries, little things requested by my order, and as I slipped out of A Sapah Salamann I felt a gentle tap to the back of my arm. Caught terribly off guard, the circle I spun nearly upended the entirety of my load until a flaring of wings balanced me out.

"Rit. Conisa ol ge om elasa?" He asked in rather terribly broken Enochian. Why didn't he know me" My chin tilted up slowly to meet his gaze, matching the deep ruby with the azure-gold of my own eyes on his. He was, in short, beautiful. A head and a half taller than me, broad through the shoulders, impeccably dressed. Temptation in its worst form. I resisted the urge to stare and instead managed to look down my nose at him.

"Elasa conisa ge." I spoke levelly, tone curt and clipped. We may have been on neutral ground but outside of those gates, this creature was the enemy of my people even if he was superficially easy on the eyes. I knew what his kind were capable of, unspeakable things, the stuff of nightmares. It is why you never get close to a daemon. He evidently understood my apprehension and he revealed the faintest touch of weakness with a rub of his hand across the back of his neck, a lopsided grin slashing a jagged swath of white between the warm tones of his lips.

"Irgil ol?" He seemed to struggle for the proper word before settling on his own language, "pwofry?" I couldn't help but laugh at the strange way he requested how to fix this fact. The mix of Enochian and the forbidden language was almost endearing. Sweet in the way he tried to string together the clashing consonants and awkward alphabets together to form some sort of understanding between us. I was smitten, just a bit.

It was the beginning of a beautiful and terrible relationship.

From afar it was a picture perfect sight, I'm sure, a scene that could have easily been transcribed to frescos high above the chapels of the mortals below that worshipped my Creator. The lights of the wee folk illuminated the wispy canopy of the willow we sprawled beneath, giving an ethereal glow to my skin and his alike. We were wrapped within the sheer privacy afforded by the swaying limbs.

Or so we thought.

Hidden away from prying eyes and suspicious questioning, we took turns feeding one another wildberries by hand, a rare commodity thanks to the desolate landscapes that lay beyond the gates of our neutral safe haven. The War of Eternity had wiped out much of natural flora and fauna, making fresh fruits, vegetables, and many times meat a direly scarce thing. Thankfully, so holy was our lord of hosts that my people wanted for little despite the endless battle that raged on.

"Xyoisebid Amriel." He mixed the infernal rumble of his language with the angelic lilt of my name, lifting a berry, deep burgundy in color, to my lips. Delicately, I captured the fruit between my lips and freed it from his grasp, my teeth sinking into the sweet flesh of the treat. Once his fingers were fruitless, he slipped his hand to the side of my cheek, fingertips catching a free strand of wheat like gold to tuck the tress behind one of my ears.

"Turbs." I offered out the Enochian equivalent. We had been trading back and forth at much the same rate we had exchanged food. It was a slow dance of exploration, something strangely sensual about sharing the stealthily packed assortment while acquainting one another with another way to communicate. The touches and caresses between us spoke more than words could though and the chemistry that crackled and tingled between us was so heady you could almost feel it. We got so lost in each other that I completely lost track of time, the light fading outside of the tree's glowing blue underside. Nightfall's trumpets sounded and jarred from my private reverie with the temptingly sweet Nemiel, I jumped, scrambling back to my feet.

"Niis! Niis! Ol barinu adagita niis!" My frantic words came quickly, hands clasping about his and trying to pull him to his feet. He got up as well, pulling me close for just a moment. The trumpets continued to sound and it would not be long before the gates to Madariatza were closed until daybreak. We were running out of time but that didn't stop him from brushing the gentlest of kisses to my forehead, the contact between us sending electrifying shivers through me. He reluctantly released me and nudged me toward a parting in the branches.

"Niis turbs Amriel. Ol gemeganza ooaoana elasa apeta aiad." Murmured words caught on the breeze tickled my ears with their near innocence with which they were spoken. Yes, we would see each other soon if I had my way. His tone carried a touch of sadness as well, something I attributed to our hasty departure and with one last sorrowful glance exchanged, we went our separate ways. From my back erupted three pairs of wings, unfurled and spread fully to allow me to take flight. I saw not where Nemiel disappeared to as I sped off, all six beating as hard as they could to launch me toward the soon to be closing gate. The day's last rays were sinking sleepily on the horizons and as the ancient barriers began to sway, I shot through in the nick of time. Breathing raggedly, I slowed, relief awash upon my features.

Until the sonorous voice met my ears.

"Bajileim bolape elasa niisa, Amriel?" The question made my soul ache and I sank to flat feet, letting the lowest tier of wings envelope my lower body. The middle pair drooped uncharacteristically, weighed down by the guilt due to the accusation. The highest, the most humble set of wings folded around me to mask my features, my head bowed as I cloaked myself in darkness. Coraxo, the thunders of judgment and wrath boomed around me and I knew, I just knew, that

"Solpeth bien, Amriel. Torzu zacar od zamran aspt sibsi butmonah." The great voice sought my ascent and so I rose to meet the covenant.