Aharon picked up his sleeping charge and rested him gently onto the worn out blankets in the corner of the Shul; what, tp Akseli, passes for a bed. He looked at the boy's furrowed brows and scoffed lightly.

"Even in sleep, Wrath takes over your features. You are quite troublesome, Akseli Aerstein." He whispered fondly, slipping out the doors of the Shul and looking to the rising sun; much time has passed since the boy fell asleep and it was already time for the city to Awaken to a new day. He spreads his wings and takes off without a second thought.

Strangely enough, he ends up back at [i]The Inferno[/i], and he tilts his head nervously, as Wrath and Slaughter still hang heavy in the air around the building. His wings fold into themselves as he thinks of how he did nothing to stop the deaths of so many.

"Father forgive me..."