Zephiel's commander had said nothing about his long absence. Somehow his unit had been informed that he had been wounded and was resting with the healers. Which was true, in a sense. What had not been mentioned was that the healer in question was a demon.

The angel didn't ask any questions after returning to Heaven. He was not supposed to. But he did watch everything with new eyes and tried to piece together who knew the truth behind their endless war and who didn't. Commanders certainly knew. Probably healers too.

None of the battle angels other than him seemed to have any idea why they fought. They just did.

~*~*~

All the doubts aside, he still was completely focused on his duty. Whatever the reason was – and even more so if the very existence of Heaven was dependent on the conflict -, he would still fight to the best of his ability. So when his unit was ordered to move out, he obeyed without hesitation.

It was stormy in Limbo this day. The strong gusts of wind forced even experienced angels to pay attention to the simple act of staying airborne, and the multitude of colors one could see from the corners of their eyes flickered like periodically hit by lightning. Otherwise the scenery was the same dull gray as always, but if you looked at it just right...

It had been disorienting on his first visits, but by now he was used to the phenomenon.

There weren't many combatants around. The commanders on both sides must have pulled their less experienced soldiers back due to the weather conditions. Zephiel moved with speed and grace from one small cluster of fighting to another, his twin blades dancing to the music of combat, yet always keeping his companions from pursuing when the injured demons fell to the murky mists below. No point to risk an ambush, was what he told them.

But in the end, he forgot to take his own advice. Two demons – young, probably on their first real battlefield – thought they were clever by luring him to their friends. The children soon learned that the odds of five to one was not nearly enough to beat him.

Their apparent leader, a girl with black snake-like skin and wiry reptilian wings, still clashed her blade-staff with his swords in a desperate attempt to give her injured companions time to flee. She was also bleeding but would not relent.

Well, Zephiel was not averse to killing as it was. If it was necessary-

Vivid red like the succulent fruits growing in the gardens of Heaven obscured his vision suddenly, velvety in its touch on his skin. When it pulled back, the girl was gone. Instead, in front of him stood – literally, hovering in the air without wings – a man with platinum blond hair, donning a red cape and with eyes like starry sky.

Another demon. A dangerous one. He could tell just by looking at him, although he carried no weapons other than a plain wooden staff in one hand. A magician, most likely...

Despite attacking with every skill he possessed, he could even at best only keep things at a stalemate. The staff wasn't the main issue – it was the...things nipping at him from directions where he wasn't looking. Wherever he turned, they always seemed to be behind him.

Then the demon put some distance between them, his cape glowing faintly in the dusky scene. Zephiel found himself unable to move closer, like held back by an invisible wall. And in some way, he was relieved.

"You're a peculiar one for an angel. It seems to me like you hesitate because of someone in your heart," the man spoke. "Someone who makes you question too much?"

Zephiel had no idea how anyone could know that. Surely Malach would not have told...No, not possible. He had made sure not to speak of his own traitorous feelings even to the demon. But this man seemed to genuinely believe what he was talking about. He was not stabbing around blindly and hoping that something would hit. "...Who are you?"

The man bowed. "Duke Saleos, at your service. Now, I don't suppose you and I could just go our separate ways? I'm not exactly fond of fighting either."

A duke?! That explained the vast difference in strength. But he had never seen anyone of higher status take to the front lines before. Even the army commanders usually gave their orders before the battle and left the unit leaders to deal with the rest.

He wanted to agree. But could he? Why would this demon suggest not fighting to begin with? He must have known Zephiel was nothing more than a battle angel. Not a commander. He shouldn't have known the truth behind the conflict.

It was in the middle of his mind going over these questions as quickly as it could that he noticed that the wind had stopped around them. He looked around. The perpetual dusk was...fading, revealing the rainbow colors shining through everywhere. Fractures of the deepest black were slowly appearing around them, like they were inside some breaking shell.

Saleos moved far too slowly to dodge as the fractures revealed their true form as some kinds of serpents that almost instantly swarmed them. No, not serpents. Something like sandworms or leeches, Zephiel realized as a huge, round maw opened and attempted to latch itself to his chest. His chest plate – one of the few pieces of armor he wore, in addition to basic frontal leg plates and bracers - repelled the assault, and his sword shredded the creature to pieces with barely more substance than shadows.

But then the pieces formed back together in front of his eyes, and the resurrected worm bit deeply into his upper arm. Another coiled around his waist, trapping his other arm against his side. These things were fast! He wasn't sure if they had some kind of poison or if they were just sucking out his blood, but he felt weaker with every passing second.

The demon had probably already lost consciousness. He wasn't moving. Zephiel felt sick in his stomach watching how the monstrosities crawled over his body still floating in the air, biting through cloth and skin equally easily.

He had to make a hard decision. He might kill Saleos if he used holy magic. But if he did nothing, they would both die with certainty.

He held out one hand and whispered, "Lux."

Their surroundings filled with light. When it faded, the creatures were gone. Everything was back to the usual grayness. But he could still feel them. Their hunger.

Saleos was falling, the vivid red of his cape a stark contrast to the bleak mists. Quickly Zephiel dove after him and caught him to stop his fall. Even that little exertion made his vision swim. Somehow, he managed to descend in a controlled manner until they passed through the mist and his feet met the surface at the very bottom of Limbo.

This was as close to enemy territory as he could come on his own. There was a very high risk that he'd run into battle demons willing to kill him on sight. And carrying the bloodied body of one of their nobles certainly would not endear him to them. Then he spotted someone walking closer. The first thing he noticed was the white robes, but as the figure approached, he realized who it was. Malach.

Zephiel silently thanked god. He would not have been in any shape to fight any more.

He fell to his knees, barely able to lay the injured duke on the ground instead of simply dropping him. "He's one of yours. Take care of him."

Malach only nodded, knelt down next to his fellow demon and laid his hands on his chest. Red mist like blood flowed from his hands into the injuries, which knit themselves closed almost instantly.

Saleos slowly opened his eyes and sat up. "How...is Cimeles faring?" he asked, like nearly dying was not the foremost concern in his mind.

"She returned a long time ago, Your Highness," Malach replied curtly. "And Lady Astaroth has been furious that you are still missing."

He laughed but stopped abruptly, quite obviously in pain. "Sorry. There were some...unexpected circumstances. I'm just glad they didn't decide to come looking for me."

"Unexpected circumstances?" Malach cast a questioning look at Zephiel.

Zephiel shook his head slightly. He didn't really know what it was that they had run into. "Some hellspawns that looked like giant worms completely covered in darkness."

"Not...hellspawns," Saleos breathed out. "Void-eaters."

"What?!" Malach's eyes widened, and he clenched his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. A bit too slowly for Zephiel not to notice.

He firmly stomped on the sudden urge in his heart to hold and comfort the demon.

Malach caught his hand. "Let me tend to you too. I don't want you to die."

"You shouldn't expend any more of your own lifeforce," Zephiel told him. Angel healers could pull on the divine light of Heaven for magic – all angels could -, but as far as he knew, demons could only use their own energy and replenish it by devouring other creatures inhabiting Hell. "I'll be fine once I return home."

The demon's grip suddenly tightened enough to be painful. "You don't understand! Void-eaters are extremely dangerous! Even those who have somehow escaped have died within hours unless their lifeforce is immediately replenished."

Zephiel really didn't understand anything anymore. Malach seemed...desperate. Genuinely afraid.

"He loves you," Saleos stated softly. Then he chuckled. "I assume I forgot to mention that one of my titles is the Sage of Hearts. Humans sometimes try to invoke me to make someone they fancy fall in love with them."

Zephiel looked away. "It's not mutual."

Saleos smiled, a knowing kind of smile. "You can't lie to me in this matter."

He noticed that Malach had decided not to wait for permission when a hot wave slowly passed through him, starting from the hand the demon was holding and spreading to every corner of his body. "Don't overdo it," he only warned.

Exactly what should he make of this new revelation? He had known that there had been admiration – even attraction, something to never act on – between them, but...love? Demons and angels weren't supposed to love each other. As a matter of fact, battle angels were not supposed to love, period. That was something for those who didn't live to fight.

"Anyway..." Saleos started. "I think we should return to Hell. I need to inform His Majesty that the void-eaters have made an appearance again."

Zephiel nodded in acknowledgement. "I need to report to my superiors too."

"Oh no, you're coming with us." A magic circle started etching itself around them from where his hand rested against the ground. "I will take care of notifying Heaven. Later."

"I'm an angel-"

"You will be my guest. I need you to describe what you saw to His Majesty." He paused, that knowing smile playing on his lips again, but this time it didn't reach his eyes that were clouded with bottomless sadness. "And you should work out your feelings with our healer friend here. This may be the last chance you get."

Malach's expression was also somber. It made Zephiel's heart constrict painfully in his chest. The demons -knew- what he did not, and their little actions spoke volumes.

Something much worse than the war was coming.