“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Erys asks, staring over the edge of the cliff.

I smile, stretching my newly healed wing and wincing with pain that doesn’t come. No. I reply, fiddling with the strings of my shirt. But I’m positive it’ll be interesting. I grip his hand, and he doesn’t even have time to process what I’ve said before we’re both in the air, soaring above the earth.

“Fuck!” he yells, his other hand grabbing onto my wrist. I laugh, then literally toss him into the sky, causing him to curse even louder. He lands in my arms like a princess, and I give him a smug look. “Holy shit. Never do that again. Please.”

Sorry. It was kind of hard to carry you like that. I should’ve thought it through more. I stare at the ground, smile growing. I’ve never gotten the chance to just fly before. The first time I did I was being chased… My eyes go wide. Shit, I forgot about the guards. So… I might be a wanted target now. Well. That’s fun. Hang on. I close my eyes, and I being to change. My hair turns white, falling into my face in loose waves that I push back with my fingers. My chest gets slightly flatter and when I look again, I can see my icy blue eyes reflected in his.

“…Fuck…?”

Oh. Right. Angels can change their appearance at will. I thought I told you that already.

“You said they can change their gender.”

Right. And their appearance. Now you know. Sorry if I scared you.

“What—” he starts, and I look at him. He blushes, turning away. “What, umm, pronoun do you want me to use?”

I stare at him, unable to process what he said.

“I mean,” he says quickly, “I’ve been thinking of using they/them, and I didn’t know if that was…” he trails off, and I can feel hot tears sting my eyes.

You— you haven’t been… I smile at him. I was told that people don’t really understand angels, so they always just choose a gender for us. But you didn’t… I can’t tell you how much that means. Even where I’m from, people usually referred to me as a girl, because being genderless was an honor they deemed unworthy of a half-breed. If it makes it easier for you, you can use whichever pronoun makes sense for the form I’m in.

“So, he, then.”

I nod.

“I’m sorry for whatever happened to you before. But you’re not there anymore, and I promise I’ll do my best to protect you.”

I smirk. Says the one being carried.

He sighs, a grin creeping onto his face. “You think we could overlook that part?”

I shake my head. No, most definitely not.

The village isn’t at all what I expected it would be. Usually it’s rare to find people of different races so close to each other. Or at least, that’s what I’ve heard anyway.

I notice two young goblin girls playing tag with an elf, and they seem to be having a lot of fun. The elf catches up with them, talking them with a laugh and ruffling their hair. After she helps them up, they run off again, laughing and shouting at each other.

The crowd begins to grow, and my hand is ripped from Erys’. I try to call to him, but my words get lost inside my head. People swarm me from all sides, and I feel myself slipping down a wall and covering my head with my hands.

Arms wrap around me, and for a moment I panic, before I realize it’s Erys and relax against him.

“Not a big fan of crowds, then,” he whispers into my ear, and I shake my head.

I’m going to need to figure out how to talk. Otherwise I might lose you.

“That’s probably a good idea.” He stands, helping me to my feet and leading me to a quieter alley. “Let’s start with this.” He rests a hand on my jaw, mimicking the movements as he sounds out the word. “Erys. You need to close your teeth on the ‘s’ and blow through them to create the… err… hissing sound, I guess? Other than that, you shouldn’t need to use your tongue too much, so that might be helpful since you’ve never spoken before.”

His hand leaves my face, and he nods for me to try it.

“E-Erys,” I try, the sound of my voice catching me off guard. Husky and rough, as if I’ve been screaming for my whole life and only just now stopped. Deeper than I imagined it, too, though I’m sure it doesn’t sound nearly as cool to the outside world as it does reverberating back in my own ears. He seems to notice it, too, because his eyes grow wider and his mouth opens is surprise. He coughs, regaining his composure.

“That was really good. Don’t feel rushed. Take it slow; words are tricky little bastards. They have a tendency to mess you up and hardly ever mean what they’re supposed to.”

“Th-thank you. I-I think it sh-shouldn’t be too hard. I know all the wor-words, I’m just not used to saying them out loud.”

He stares at me, eyes bordering on hungry.

“How old are you, then?” he asks suddenly, turning away. “You said time was different for angels. Exactly how different is it?”

“Oh,” I say, smiling as my voice hits my ears again. “I guess it would be… about one year to your one hundred. That would make me about 1,800, but now that I’m down here I’ll age in accordance to this time. Of course, around the time we turn eighteen, we stop maturing physically, which is a part of why all angels look so… well, immortal, to put it bluntly.”

His expression turns to one of disbelief. “1,800? That’s insane.”

“Easy there, or I might get offended.” He blushes, which makes me smile. “You have to keep in mind that one year for us really means one hundred for you. Our days, weeks, months- everything is longer. It simply doesn’t feel like it. I guess because we’re so used to it. The way our bodies develop, if we were to spend more than a few hours down here before we stop maturing, we wouldn’t…” I pause, trying to find the right word to describe it. “Let’s just say it’s dangerous for our physical state and can lead to potential problems when we get back to Brecht. Because of the sudden increase in time, and then, returning to a place where time is that much slower. Honestly, leaving at all is risky.”

“Wow. I had no idea.”

I laugh, thoroughly enjoying the sound. “Of course not. If it was common knowledge, people would be able to use it against the angels.” I tilt my head, and my hair falls into my eyes again. I run my fingers through it, smirking icily. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” My smile fades, and my eyes latch onto his. I lean in closer, lower my voice so it’s barely a hoarse whisper. “I need you to forget everything you’ve ever been taught about angels. Though it’s horrible to think about, those in power tend to be the ones who write history, and they almost always bend the truth. Angels are manipulative and deceitful, and the so-called hierarchy is anything but fair. They’re pulling the strings on reality. They even pulled the strings on me. Believe me when I say that they cannot be trusted.”

He gulps, biting his lip. I notice my gaze drift over them, and I close my eyes.

“And… do you include yourself as being manipulative and untrustworthy?” he manages. My eyes snap open, and I stare at him.

“Oh. I-I guess I just gave you a pretty good reason to abandon me, huh?” I laugh, but its hollow and pained.

He looks up at me, and I realize now that our faces are only inches apart. Blushing, I lean back against the wall. My eyes slip closed again, and I let out a long sigh.

“Good and evil are just constructs created by those in power. Lies they tell us in order to control us,” I whisper. “That’s what makes it so beautiful, I think. It’s all relative, y’know? To them, I’m evil. Half demon and a threat to their society. I suppose the whole world would see me that way. But I’m not evil, and neither are angels. Demons, humans, vampires,” I say, nodding at him. “None of us are truly good or evil. Pure of heart is just a saying. A hope for kids who need to believe that their heroes are flawless. People can do good things or bad things, but nobody is inherently good or evil.” I smile as a tear falls down my face. “Does make everything easier, though, doesn’t it? Anyway. I think I’ve calmed down, now. It would probably be better to avoid the main street, though. Growing up the way I did… I’m not very used to crowds.”

He stares at me for a moment before leaning forward and giving me a hug.

“I’m so sorry for everything that happened to you,” he breathes. He pulls away just enough to kiss my forehead gently and then stands, offering a hand to me. I take it, letting him pull me to my feet and guide me through the semi-busy streets.