It was raining when I met him.

I’d decided to take shelter in an abandoned building and wait out the storm. It was rare for clear, uncolored rain to fall so close to such a large Font. It might have been the last time I would see it for a while, so I watched in silence. Moments like that would be important to remember in the near future.

For a long time, the only sound in the air was that of rainfall. Then, out of nowhere came a small voice.

“So, they picked you.”

I quickly turned around. Just behind me stood what looked like a young boy. He wore a jacket dyed a brilliant red: the color of wine, or perhaps of fresh blood.

“I heard in town that they’d finally found someone to get rid of the demon in the Font,” he went on. “But I never did get to see who it was until now.”

He stepped into the light of the doorway. I noticed then that he had the severed horns and metallic green flesh characteristic of the angels. But his wings looked more like crumpled masses of feathers than functional appendages. He also wore shoes…it seemed that he was somehow unable to fly.

I considered asking him about it, but I decided I wasn’t in the mood for conversation. Besides, angels are rather transient beings; I expected the boy to leave on his own before long.

Instead, he sat down on the floor and continued to speak, still facing the rain. “I guess I should just get to the point: You’re a brave human for volunteering to do this. But you don’t have to, you know. I’m going to handle it myself, so…if you want, you can go home.”

“…What?”

It was the first word I spoke to him. He seemed pleasantly surprised to have gotten a reaction from me. Grinning, he went on: “I’m going to slay the demon in the Font, because I’m the best person for the job. I was only waiting here to tell you that you’re wasting your time.”

The usual angelic arrogance. Nevertheless, there were so many things wrong with the picture that I had to protest. An angel, living on the earth? An angel, slaying a demon? It was all unheard of.

“Who…or what…are you?” I finally asked.

“Just an angel,” he said, turning around. “My name is Knell.”

“…Clarion…”

“Hi, Clarion. I’m just trying to look out for you, you know. It’s sad to watch someone throw away their life.”

“Save your concern for someone else,” I told him. “I’ve been doing this since I was as small as you.”

“So? No two demons are alike, you know. You could kill a million of them, and there’d still be no guarantee that the million-and-first wouldn’t be your end.”

“Nothing is ever guaranteed. But the odds are definitely in my favor at this point. I don’t need your help, so just fly home to the exosphere.”

“I…can’t,” he admitted. I’d gotten him to confirm my earlier suspicion.

But I wasn’t really interested enough to press him on it. Whatever was wrong with him was no concern of mine, and thinking about it seemed to shut him up, at least.

We both watched the rain in silence for about half an hour. Knell was remarkably still for an angel, or for any child, really. He didn’t fidget or turn his head or even scratch. He just sat there, facing the doorway like a statue.

Only when the rain subsided did he finally move. “I’m heading out now,” he said, getting up to leave. “I guess I can’t force you to go home, so you’re welcome to tag along, as long as you don’t get in the way.”

The brat had stolen the words right out of my mouth. But this was no time to be annoyed: when dealing with demons, focus is key. I clutched the silver delta that hung from my neck and took a deep breath.

Outside, the air was moist and still. The humidity had brought some of the colors over from the Font; if you looked closely you could see hints of green and pink in the air.

Knell clambered over the rubble, heading westward, where the colors hung brightly over the horizon in a thick cloud. Reluctantly, I followed.