Virgil entered the small Temple of Asren, only to find that the interior was much more grand. The ceiling stretched higher, the rooms bigger. It was as if inside this small overgrown temple was a castle dedicated to the divine being he was soon to meet. As Virgil walked through the halls, lined with gold accents and teal-and-white marble, his footsteps echoed on the floor. He could feel his stomach twisting with unease. This particular morlak had no wings, yet claimed to be divine nonetheless.

Finally, he came across a large door, with runes written in Divenli.  “Ul tur cira, ni ilsi jisti tur wilsi.” Virgil quickly opened the bag slung around his shoulder, and removed a book of translation. This particular book was enchanted to translate whatever words the user wrote within it. Virgil wrote the runes inside the book, and the words shifted into Common-Tongue.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. A divine being with humor? Please.” Virgil remarked sarcastically, huffing before stating something that would ultimately humiliate him in front of his audience of zero.

“If you open, I'll grant you cheese.” He spoke, his voice deadpan.

The doors opened, revealing a large cathedral-like room, filled with treasures of gold, artifacts, and gems. Virgil’s pupil’s dilated slightly at the sight. It was magnificent, the amount of wealth held in one space could free him from work for more than one lifetime while still spending carelessly. He walked idly, paying more attention to the material possessions than the divinity he had approached.

“Ah, I get your kind so often. Tell me, what is it you desire, mortal?” A voice spoke, smooth and regal.

“What do you mean ‘my kind’?” Virgil asked bitterly.

Asren  looked down at him, his eyes calculating, yet a smirk on his lips. He could see into Virgil’s soul. Despite Asren’s smirk, he felt a sense of kinship with this particular human. They were alike in many ways, and it unsettled him, their similar trauma’s hitting too close to home.

“The greedy kind. Most people who come to me want either power or wealth. You are one of those same greedy humans who can’t settle with what you have. However, I will give you credit for one thing.” Asren spoke with amusement in tone.

“I’m not some average man with a greed problem.” Virgil sassed.

Asren chuckled, “Of course you aren’t. You have something they don’t. A history of worthlessness that you wish to change. I understand that far more than you know,”

Virgil scoffed, “How can a divine being such as yourself have any idea what I’ve gone through? You have everything handed to you on a silver platter!”

Asren’s eyes narrowed. He kept his smile, but internally something boiled. Rage, and something else he’d rather not acknowledge. He rose to his feet, towering over Virgil.

“Let’s not assume you know people’s lives based on appearances. I know your history, as I can read your soul. You do not have that ability, so if you’d shut the fuck up that would be greatly appreciated. Now, moving on, what was your wish?” Asren’s tone was polite, but carried a sharp edge.

“If you can read my soul, shouldn’t you know my wish?” Virgil raised an eyebrow, frowning,

Asren’s eye twitched. “Because that’s how this whole deal works. I know what you want, but you have to say it aloud.

Virgil cackled, “Well that’s idiotic. But fine. I wish to have enough wealth that I can live the rest of my life in luxury without ever having to work again.”

“Like I said, greedy, though I should have also mentioned your laziness. Before I grant your wish, I must warn you, mortal. Some wishes have  consequences. Do you still want this wish?”

Without hesitation, Virgil nodded. Asren motioned for Virgil to step back. When he obeyed, Asren took a deep breath, closing his eyes before weaving a magic circle in the air with his fingers. When he opened them again, his iris glowed electric blue as he whispered an incantation in Divenli. 

“Lor sha selsh orna Rosili, jisti lis nol.”

The symbol in the air burst into sparkles of light, and Asren smiled slyly. 

“It is done. Do have fun, my dear.” He sat on his throne, watching as Virgil left.

Asren felt a creeping guilt, knowing that wishes made from greed have terrible prices to pay. Asren felt a sense of kinship with this human, something he never quite felt before. Asren suppressed these emotions, however, and continued taking wishes. His wish granting had to take an abrupt halt, however, as a large storm quickly approached. He dismissed the rest of his clients and returned home. Though before he reached his door, the storm hit.

A hurricane swept through their village, flooding the streets and tearing apart houses. Asren was swept away in the flood. Rather than being afraid, he was simply annoyed and let the flood take him where it wanted. He was immortal, but without his wings he couldn’t avoid the water. It’s hard to fear death when you can’t die.

It took two days for it to end, and many lives in the village were taken. However, thankfully it was small. Though one problem was immediately clear. The hurricane had taken the life of the village mayor. With no one to lead, the village would be in anarchy. Asren felt a knot weave in his stomach at what this meant. The standing heir was Virgil. Asren’s wish granting had taken Virgil’s father’s life.

Asren suddenly had a thought he considered even more pressing. His temple was probably in shambles. He rushed through the soaked village streets, wishing once again that he could still soar like he did in his youth. Upon seeing it was still standing, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank the heavens.” He muttered, laughing at his mistake.

Of course it was  fine, it had a protection spell. Asren stood before the temple, and placed his fingers to the cool stone on the exterior. He muttered an incantation in Divenli, renewing the  protection spell. 

“Lor sha selsh orna Rosili, scylin nur hila.”

Asren jumped as a voice shouted his name. He growled softly.

“Look at that! You interrupted my protection spell for my damn temple,” Asren exclaimed, then turned, “And now- oh… shit.”

Standing there, was the angry, and clearly brokenhearted Virgil.

“You killed my father.” Virgil growled, his voice holding a sense of danger.

“Virgil, darling, you know I had nothing to do with that. I didn’t summon the hurricane. You’re the one who made a wish out of greed, wishing for the riches that you just received. We all know that man was hoarding money illegally. He used the role as mayor to loiter money from the people, and didn’t do anything productive except make decisions for people.” Asren put up his usual careless facade, pushing down his guilt.

“You granted the wish! You made the consequences be this… this!” Virgil shouted.

Asren winced, “Virgil, this was out of my control. I don’t choose the consequences. They happen like this when a wish is born from greed. Your own greed caused this, not me.”

“You’re a divine being! If you don’t control the consequences of wishes you grant, then who does?”

Asren paused, the fur on his tail pricking. He didn’t want to tell a mere mortal about such a problem. Something that put Asren at the mercy of something greater than himself. Seeing the tears Virgil failed to conceal didn’t help his guilt. Asren’s face showed a rare moment of empathy.

Why did he feel guilty for something he couldn’t control? The purple sky highlighted Asren’s features as he steeled himself, regaining his usual composed demeanor. The blue star dipping lower indicated that sunset was beginning to get close.

“It’s not something I go telling random mortals.” Asren replied, his voice calmer than usual, “If I could have prevented it, I would have. I never want people to suffer for other people’s wishes.”

“Please…” Virgil fell to his knees, bowing before Asren, surprising even himself, “There has to be something you can do… Grant me another wish.”

Asren pondered for a long few moments. For the first time in years, he wanted to do something to help. He hates humans, after everything their kind had done to him. But this particular human… he related to. They both had feelings of insignificance, of worthlessness, of pain. Both have childhood trauma. Both have had terrible parents who neglected them.

“I can’t grant wishes to undo wishes, but there is one thing. Have you heard of the Mirrorheart?” Asren prompted.

Virgil’s eyes widened, “You know where it is?”

“Yes. Well, sort of. I have a lead, but I wasn’t going to leave for it until I had a more definite location.”

Virgil looked Asren in the eyes. “Then we’ll find it.”

Asren nodded, “I’ll help you. It’s dangerous for a mortal to go by himself.”

Virgil scowled, “I’m no mortal. I don’t see why you keep calling me that.”

Asren, “Oh my apologies. But you’re definitely not a god or angel.”

Virgil snorted, “I’m starting to doubt you are either.”

Asren growled softly, “I am. I’m a morlak, an angel by blood.”

Asren’s ears perked, and he quickly shushed Virgil. Virgil protested, and Asren covered his mouth.

“There’s someone here. Show yourself!” Asren spoke threateningly.

“There you are… coward.” Spoke a voice. “Time for our angelic soldier to return home.”