That night, Nerluce and others were placed in a large, open building with many others, both those who came to Ethera to train as Seraphs, and patrons of the temple who needed a night's rest before their pilgrimage home.

It was late. Nerluce could hear the soft sound of snores of the people around him as he tossed and turned. The futons were thin. The sheets were rough and riddled with holes gnawed by mice and insects and time. Nerluce wondered if he was really so spoiled his insomnia was caused by all these minuscule factors. But considering how he'd dosed on dirt and in trees, Nerluce didn't think so.

Giving up on sleep, Nerluce got to his feet. He moved like a shadow through the room, stepping over outstretched legs and hands, careful not to brush against any. It was a skill that had taken many years to hone but just like the servants of Hebikoti Castle, Nerluce was good at not being seen when he didn't want to be seen.

Nerluce shivered as he stepped into the night air. He tugged his red cloak tighter around his body, wishing he had something warmer. Or maybe he wished he'd bothered to put on his boots. But that would've taken too much time and would've been too loud so instead, Nerluce walked barefoot across the grass, feeling the ache of the frost on his heels.

The moon was full and bright, hanging high above the clouds. Full moons were a good time to practice Magick. Nerluce couldn't remember exactly why - something about tides and pulls - but his his masters had him sit outside all night on full moons, attempting to meditate and failing. Attempting to fight off exahstion and failing. Attempting to control the flames and failing.

The moon had always been and always would be, just the moon.

Its position in the sky indicated that it was an hour or so after midnight. Nerluce huffed in defeat. The sooner he got this pent-up energy out, the sooner he could get to sleep. So, he started to walk.

At first, Nerluce wandered around Ethera's grounds aimlessly. He didn't exactly have an objective, it just seemed that walking would help ease both his excess energy and deep cold that seeped into Nerluce's bones. That quickly morphed into a desire to explore. After arriving, there hadn't exactly been much of a tour.

The temple was larger than Nerluce had first thought. The buildings were arranged in an odd and twisting manner and many of them looked similar. However, Nerluce eventually found a pattern. There was a rhythm to the buildings and Nerluce stopped trying to force a way through. Instead, he walked with them, following where they lead until he was in the innermost part of the temple.

Nerluce knew he shouldn't be here. He knew it because he had seen the guards. They stood - relaxed and sleep deprived - as Nerluce slipped through the shadows behind them. Nerluce knew he really shouldn't be here. He knew because the innermost portions of temples were the most sacred places. Nerluce knew he really, really shouldn't be here. He knew it because if he was caught he'd be punished; sent back home or worse.

Yet he did not return. He was a heretic in burning glory.

The heart of Ethera was a pond garden filled with lily pads and small water spirits - no bigger than Nerluce's thumb - skipping across the water's surface. Twisting rock paths danced through it and a bright red bridge jumped across on the far side. In the middle of the pond garden there was a tree in full bloom. It was the wrong time of year for any fruit tree to be blooming, yet this one did so anyway. It was a beautiful sight.

Nerluce bounded across one of the rock paths, the water - which held the reflection of the full moon - nipping at his toes and the hem of his robes. He grinned, feeling giddy. This was the exact kind of thing he'd been looking to find. Someplace to play and relax. Someplace like the apple orchard.

However, that was when something sliced through the beauty of the scene.

A baby, screaming.

Nerluce lifted his head, glancing around the garden but no one seemed to be coming to aid the child. He frowned. Nerluce waited a while more but still, no one came. All the while, the child's screams got louder and more desperate. Nerluce furrowed his brows and made a stupid decision.

He started in the direction of the crying baby. Why was he was doing this? His chances of getting caught would increase exponentially. But... hearing the crying baby... Nerluce felt hot with rage. It wasn't directed towards the child, but rather to all the adults who heard it and responded with deaf ears.

It wasn't hard to find the child. It was crying so loudly Nerluce didn't know how the whole temple didn't hear it. What was odd was that the nursery was right next to the garden, the innermost sanctum. Perhaps the temple had a long-standing history of keeping its children here in the safest place. Nerluce huffed. A lot of good it did keeping them safe if no one came when they cried.

Nerluce plucked the squirming infant from the cradle and began to rock it. He had no experience with children but he had seen plenty of mothers rock their infants like this. It wailed a bit more but slowly it started to calm down. Nerluce kept rocking as he looked down at the infant who couldn't have been older than a month or two.

It was ugly.

It was fat and its arms and legs didn't seem the right length. Its skin was an odd color. Too yellow for it to be human. The dark, black hair of the infant was like mildew growing from a piece of rotted fruit.

"No wonder no one came for you," Nerluce mused looking at the ugly baby in his arms. "They probably couldn't stand looking at you."

It grabbed at Nerluce's clothing, making small sounds. Nerluce readjusted the baby's weight into one arm so that he could pull his cloak from its tiny, grasping hands. However, in doing so, the baby latched onto something else: Nerluce's index finger. He frowned and gave a slight tug, but the infant held tight. Nerluce looked at it and sighed.

"You are kind of sweet," Nerluce said, with a little smile.

And that was when Nerluce heard something.

He turned instantly. A figure stood just outside of the nursery. Nerluce has never been particularly religious yet the moment he laid eyes on the figure he could only think: angel.

He was perhaps around Nerluce's age but standing, bathed in moonlight, he seemed... eternal. He was taller than Nerluce - if only by an inch or two - and his body was toned, muscles strong and powerful. His skin was dark, made darker still by the long shadows of the night. The whites of his eyes seemed the shade of the moon and the irises they cupped were dark as ink pots.

Nerluce had barely heard him approach so the only thing his mind could assume was that he had come down from heaven. His white robes billowed in the wind - the outermost layer made of a fine, decorative fabric that almost looked like frost upon ice - and the sword he brandished was just as fine as his robes and pointed directly at Nerluce.

"Who are you?" the boy asked.

The words were harsh. Frigid. Like the hiss of breath escaping a clenched jaw. And, most notably, in the dialect that originated from between the border of Itoroh and Tilica. It was a mongrel tongue, something caught between two kingdoms and two languages. It was considered crude by most. Dirty by many. Yet hearing it from the mouth of this boy... Nerluce could almost mistake it for the tongue of the gods.

The boy came a bit closer. His sword caught the moonlight and Nerluce realized that it wasn't made of steel but of ice. So thin he could basically see through it. So sharp it could probably cleave Nerluce's head from his shoulders.

"Who are you?" the boy asked again.

Nerluce's heart skipped as his eyes went from the sword to the boy and, in the border dialect as well, he said, "It's rude to ask people their name without giving your's first, angel."

The boy's lips twisted and his expression became something dark and deadly. Uneasiness struck like a bolt of lightning through Nerluce. He tensed. His heart accelerated. The infant, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, began to cry. The wind screamed.

Slowly, deliberately, the boy lifted his sword. His eyes were cold. Divine. "Return Kierli."

"What?"

"The child," the boy snapped. "Give her to me."

Nerluce felt his own expression darken as his teeth sunk into his cheek and he started to gnaw. Was he the baby's caretaker? Something a lot like resentment began to build, mixing with the unease already there. It left a foul taste in his mouth. He glared at the angelic boy and pulled the baby, Kierli closer to his chest.

"Why were you ignoring her?" Nerluce asked.

The angelic boy seemed to want to run Nerluce through with his sword. "Give her to me now or else I will have to use force."

Force? Nerluce nearly scoffed at the idea. If he was killed here then Lord Father would have just the excuse he needed to take this place by force. The angelic boy clearly didn't see the irony in his words. He clearly had no idea who he was threatening. Outside of Hebikoti Castle, there was no one in the world who could hurt Nerluce. He didn't know why he hadn't realized it sooner. Perhaps leaving the castle was the best thing to ever happen to him.

So he threw back his head and laughed. "Get better at your job, angel," Nerluce said, carefully returning Kierli to her cradle, pulling his finger, at last, from her tight grip. Her wailing increased in volume.

Nerluce smirked as he brushed past the angelic boy, leaving the nursery.

He walked slower than he needed to when leaving the pond garden, listening to Kierli's cries. He didn't leave earshot until they had stopped and then Nerluce returned to his aimless wandering, feeling more worked up than he had when he'd started it. The moon seemed just as restless as him as the pair walked side by side until the golden light of dawn broke over the mountaintops.