Maze decided then that he couldn’t stand Raphael. The angel acted like he couldn’t hear what the group was conversing about before the attack. He’d been there and Maze had made sure to gather every angel to talk about the revolutionary plans. He went to get water after a few minutes, coming back once flying over a stream.
He’d collected the water quickly, sighing while doing so. He sat down beside Asta and cleaned his wound with a piece of the robe he himself had made for protection from the sunlight. He hummed lightly, pulling a few strands of his own hair out to fit onto bone needles. Maze kissed the hair bracelets of deep blue that his beloved had gifted him with. Looking down at Asta with a soft gaze.
“No matter what happens, I am not going to let anything wrong befall you…” He kissed Asta’s forehead again before he started back to working on lovingly cleaning his deep wound. He was worried for all of them, worried for himself, but he would not show it. He had to keep up a brave face to make sure he helped them. To make sure everyone in his small group lived another day.
It would be difficult and he knew that there were many things he would have to give up in order to make it happen. But when it came down to it, he had no other way of getting through this. He had to remain strong, even though all he wanted to do most days was break down and cry.
Cry for the fact that so many of them had died, so many left to suffer alone, and what if it had all been for nothing? He would never be able to live with himself. But even then, even then, he would, because he had to. He had no choice but to put on a façade.
To adjust his mask of strength and keep moving, it was the way of the world. Eat or be eaten. He didn’t have time to cry. Sometimes when he was alone, he would find himself weeping, but as soon as he heard Asta around he would erase his tears. He had nothing to lose by taking such a path after all. He would not survive this existence if weakness trailed behind him.
He had to think about everyone else’s well being before his own. He would make sure that his own emotions never wavered, that he would never allow himself to fall into a state of despair. For in life, if you gave in to despair, you were as good as dead. There was nothing that was going to send him so far down. He would not let his own fear consume him. His thoughts were interrupted as Raphael yelled from his bedroll. “Come here and give me some a that pain herb mixture! I’m dyin over here!”
Maze sighed and stood up walking over he sat down next to Raphael and began to mix a few herbs together in his palm. He studied the other angel and noticed Raphael’s silver/red eye color and wondered if other angels could change their eye colors. Chuckling to himself he sat and listened to the other rant about oddness and insane angels with their crazy new ways of doing everything. Yea he thought solemnly I can’t let despair overtake me, not now, the others, even Raphael, need me. They all need me. Hurry back, Lucifer-ach, we are dying without you.
Sometime during the night, Asta had finally made a choice. It was a very important choice that he was not about to back away from. With his mind set and conviction in place, Asta got up “I have to go to Lucifer”
Maze frowned at him “but you are still wounded!” He walked over as Asta moved to walk to the weeks old pyre.
The brunette turned to his mate “I just have to” he then spread his wings and shot off into the clouds above.
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