Interlude
The Beginning
No one dared speak when Commander Xadriel was near.
Heads were kept bowed and bodies in line, marching like clockwork soldiers across an endless stretch of empty field.
A row of weapons waited, their steel glinting beneath the sunlight. Tools that Yuri knew the names of but had never touched. Lances, maces, swords both short and long.
Sabriel cut straight to the swords, eyes gleaming as he drew one from the rack. His hand curved around the pommel, a perfect fit. He lifted it proudly, testing its weight.
There was no question that Sabriel was a Soldier. The sun itself seemed to anoint him, casting his body in a halo of light. The longsword in his grip gleamed gold, as though it, too, recognized his destiny.
Yuri wasn’t the only one who noticed. From a distance, Xadriel watched them with the eyes of a hawk.
Yuri, liking the way the sword looked in his friend’s hand, picked one up for himself. But the steel was cold against his palm, biting into his skin. He set it back quickly and tried the lance next. It was far too heavy.
Down the line the angel went until, finally, he came upon the bow.
It was a simple thing carved of wood, and he welcomed its lightness.
Its surface was smooth, worn by the hands of those who had trained with it before.
There was a quiver of arrows on the rack, and he slung it over his back, drawing one free as if he’d done so a million times.
His thumb brushed the fletching, the movement as natural as breath.
Sabriel turned, eyeing the bow. “It suits you.”
Yuri smiled despite himself. Behind him, he felt the commander’s eyes.
“If everyone has their weapon,” Xadriel said, “it’s time we begin the trial.”
The angels formed a line before the commander.
“We’ve prepared a trial that will mirror what it’s like to face a demon horde. Your lives will not be in danger, but minor injuries are inevitable. Should you suffer what would be considered a fatal blow, you will be removed from the trial.”
A sudden gust stirred the grass around them before light flared across the field, twisting and morphing into faceless demonlike figures.
Several angels appeared close to fainting.
Yuri understood the feeling. Less than an hour ago, he’d brought a girl back from the brink of death. He’d healed her, and the sense of purpose he’d felt clung to him like a craving.
It felt wrong to hold a weapon. Wrong to take away life when it had felt so good to give.
He was not like Sabriel, who grinned at the challenge ahead, a wolf among sheep.
“The trial is simple,” the commander told them. “Survive, and kill as many demons as you can.”
There was nothing more to warn them of the attack. No bell to signal the start. All at once the demons of light lunged forward, baring fangs and claws that swiped out at the angels.
The first wave sent several reeling back. One angel screamed. Another dropped their weapon and fled the battlefield entirely. The redheaded girl from earlier took a slash of light to the throat. A glowing mark seared her skin, signaling her defeat.
“Step aside,” Xadriel commanded, cold and indifferent. He did not look at the fallen, focusing only on those who remained.
Yuri clasped his bow, holding it tight so that none could see how he wavered. The very thought of loosing the arrow made his heart ache, and he danced back from any demons who neared him.
Ahead, Sabriel was thriving. He cut through the battlefield like a wildfire, each swing of his sword painting the air with silver arcs.
There was no doubt of where he belonged, yet the heat of the battle consumed him so thoroughly that he didn’t notice the demon approaching from behind. He was too busy wrenching his sword free from the body of his last kill. Too focused on the glory of the fight to notice his own impending doom.
Yuri could see it play out in his mind as if in slow motion. The demon would strike, and his friend would fail.
He couldn’t let that happen.
Shutting one eye, Yuri drew the bowstring and took aim. In that moment, it was as if the world cleared. The noise, the fear—all of it fell silent as he focused solely on the demon that lay ahead.
Sabriel had just noticed it. The angel turned, wrenching his blade up, but he was too late to protect himself.
Yuri loosed a breath, and with it, he let the arrow fly. It sliced through the air, burying itself in the very center of the demon’s head. Sabriel stumbled back, breathless, as the creature evaporated in a flare of light.
Yuri’s chest burned, though not with the regret he’d anticipated.
This was a different feeling, a thrill that rose with the kill.
From the look in Sabriel’s eyes, he’d expected it to feel like a fire raging within him.
Instead, he felt only coolness settle over him, a quiet stillness where his anxiety did not matter.
There was only the battle ahead and the understanding of his duty. One demon, then another.
Yuri settled into the stillness, into the strange bloodlust that ensnared him. One by one he let the arrows fly. It wasn’t until six more demons had been felled that he finally paused, breathing hard as he searched for the next. But the battlefield was wiped clean.
Only then, as his mind slowly emerged from the dregs of battle, did Yuri’s chest tighten. They were not real demons. They were merely figures of light, and yet his heart raced as if they’d been alive.
Guilt seized him. The same hands that had once coaxed life back into broken bodies now held the power to end it.
He didn’t know what to make of that realization, nor of the eerie calm that had settled over him.
Healing had been fulfilling. It had brought him joy.
But the battle had steadied his mind and silenced thoughts he hadn’t realized were so unbearably loud.
There was a dark pleasure in each kill. A bloodlust that consumed him in a way nothing else ever had. But that wasn’t what he wanted, was it? Surely that darkness wasn’t something to seek out.
At least, he hadn’t believed it was—until he saw Sabriel across the battlefield, dark hair askew, looking at Yuri as though he were something magnificent.
He wasn’t the only one watching. With every demonic figure evaporated, the commander stepped onto the battlefield with his chin held high.
“Very well done,” he said. And though there was nothing effusive in his tone, it seemed as grand a compliment as the commander was capable of giving. His gaze settled on Yuri, whose chest still knotted with tension even as his breathing steadied. “The two of you make a fine pair.”
Sabriel beamed, his wings fluffing wide.
“You were amazing out there,” he told Yuri, who again found himself in awe of the other angel’s earnestness.
He hadn’t felt amazing, but when Sabriel said it, the words felt true.
“Clearly you’re a Soldier. You’re a natural.
” His voice was low, but he wasn’t trying to hide his words from the commander.
“We should be partners. You really saved my neck out there.”
“He did,” Xadriel agreed. “Which is why it would be wise for you to remember that there is more to battle than the kill. You let the thrill overtake you.”
Sabriel’s wings sank as he scrunched his nose in distaste. Yet, surprisingly, he took the criticism in stride. “It won’t happen again.”
Xadriel studied them both for a long while before murmuring almost to himself, “Like fire and ice.”
Without another word, he turned and took his place at the head of the congregation.
“Your trials are now complete,” he announced, wasting no time with pretenses or kind words.
“You should have felt a pull toward one of the paths. Though your choice should feel clear, we offer you a short respite to consider your options. Remember that whichever you decide, you decide for life. There can be no changes, nor should there be. When you know your purpose, you know.”
But Yuri did not know. Even as the other angels broke into groups, their voices rising in excitement, he kept to himself.
Across the field, Azriel’s eyes settled on him, warm and expectant.
It was clear he believed Yuri would be joining him, and why shouldn’t he?
Yuri had been the best healer among them.
The bow had not felt more natural than healing. It shouldn’t have been a question.
Except … He couldn’t stop thinking about the rush that had come when he’d struck the demon down, or the way his mind had emptied.
He was so in his own head. So nervous wondering what everyone else thought.
But for that span of the battle, he’d not thought of anything but what it would take to strike each demon down.
There was something addictive about that silence.
He looked to Sabriel, remembering how the boy had looked at him as though he were a marvel. What would it be like to be his partner? To go with him in battle, and earn that look day after day?
Yuri ached to know.
One by one, the angels stepped forward, announcing their choices. The redhead chose the path of a Herald, her voice timid but steady. Another angel declared her path as a Soldier, the next a Guardian.
Yuri shivered. His decision was getting closer.
How could they make such a choice so easily? They hadn’t been alive for a full day, and already they were expected to decide how they would spend their eternity?
Weren’t any of these angels uncertain? Didn’t any of them feel like fledglings shoved from the nest, forced to fly or fall before they’d even found their wings?
“I choose the path of a Soldier.” Somehow, it was already Sabriel’s turn. He stepped forward without hesitation, grinning up at the commander, whose expression remained unreadable.
“You are accepted.”
Sabriel hooted with joy, and the sound struck Yuri to his core. He turned to look at him, only to find the young angel already staring back, smiling so brightly it almost hurt.
What should Sabriel’s decision matter? It wasn’t as if Yuri really knew him. And yet, the idea of never seeing him again made his chest ache.
“Yuriel?” Azriel’s voice was soft, gentle. “It’s your turn.”
A Guardian. He wanted to take the path of a Guardian.
And yet when Yuri opened his mouth to speak, those were not the words that came out.
“I choose the path of a Soldier.”
Azriel’s face fell, and Yuri looked sharply away.
“You are accepted,” Xadriel said, and he smiled. It was not warm, like Sabriel’s, but a cold, sharp thing that sent a shudder down Yuri’s spine.
He tried to ignore it. Tried to push aside the gnawing doubt in his chest as Sabriel took his arm, linking it through his own.
“You made the right choice.” He was grinning. “We’re going to be the greatest Soldiers that Sanctuary has ever seen.”
Yuri didn’t dare look across from him at Azriel for fear he would change his mind. Instead, he forced his lips into a smile, and prayed that Sabriel was right.