The snow drifted carelessly around them. Dense forest guarded either side, stretching endlessly beyond. Overhead, the sun had peaked. Yet, Alyse could feel no warmth upon her skin. The wind pulled at her cloak. She drew it closer to her body with one hand, watching her breath condense to mist. She turned to Reuben, pale hair shielding her face. “How much further?” She asked, voice thin. He peered intently at the horizon before shrugging. “Soon,” he offered tiredly. He glanced at her. “Are you tired?”
She curled her lip. “No.”
Reuben rolled his good eye, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She leaned into him, burying her face in his shirt. They stood still for a moment—the world suddenly distant and dreamlike—before slowly separating. She met his gaze. “Reu—” But he caught her wrist, running his thumb across her palm, face pained, and shook his head. “No more than this,” he reminded her softly.
Her face flashed with jealousy. “I know,” she spat, turning viciously on her heel. Then, again, trembling: “…I know.” He touched her arm but she jerked away, shaking her head. She knew, of course. She had known since the very beginning. She only allowed herself to look—when he had gone, receding into silence—to watch his hand, almost absently, close around the amulet at his neck.

The war had begun a decade ago. They came from nowhere, materialising suddenly on the horizon. Altazia was the first to fall, led by their hubris; an era of peace coming to a brutal and bloody end. The world stood in mournful silence, in awe of this organic construction that pushed relentlessly forward, unfazed by man nor beast.
And now, an uneasy calm had descended upon them. They lived in the shadow of these colossi; men sacrificed by the legion to keep them at bay—and death’s calling card: an envelope bearing the king’s seal. The Red Keep had received their own a month before. Alyse remembered it clearly: the table ladder-lined by light and shadow, and the pungent spice of incense.
“No!” Alyse swung a fierce gaze around the room.
“We cannot defy the king,” Elizaveta said. Her voice held a thick accent. She wrapped an arm around her waist; her cloak falling still at her feet. For once, she had been stunned to near silence.
“You’re condemning us,” Alyse hissed. There was a ripple of reluctant agreement.
Elizaveta scowled. “Is there a choice?”
Alyse’s face hardened. “A mindless death, is that all there is for us?”

The Construct took her breath away. It was hideously beautiful, suspended in the air, floating—a sentinel cleaved from stone. It carried a large, creviced orb, as if it had plucked the moon from the night sky. The light danced along the pallid surface of its skin, and Alyse realised that it was not stone, but marble. It was carved with a master’s precision—delicate, as if a slight breeze would shatter it into countless pieces.
“It’s moving east,” Alyse whispered. It had yet to act, seemingly unaware of their presence. They were hidden behind low-growing brush, almost pressed against the dirt. She had her sword ready, hand resting on the hilt. It was disportionately large for her size; and yet, she swung it with relative ease. She joked that she must have been chosen, that Morag held some mystical power, like legend.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll see you after,” Reuben said. They shared tight smile before he disappeared with Alain into the forest. She glanced at Elizaveta. “Alain was an idiot,” she said snidely.
Elizaveta snorted. “What is the point? We will see each other again.”
Alyse blinked. Her face grew hot at Elizaveta’s smirk, and she turned away, flicking her hair. She breathed in; the brief camaraderie, if only fleeting, calming.
“Obelyn.”
She looked. Reuben and Alain’s magic, together, had allowed them to summon fire. Crimson-orange swarmed the Construct and, momentarily, it was human: caught off-guard, confused. She and Elizaveta moved forward, unsure, but with growing confidence. Maybe, they could—
It opened its arms, the stone arcing up into the air, effortlessly, held by an unseen force, and then slamming into the ground before them, throwing them from their feet. Alyse rolled onto her front, sucking in air, pushing herself up. It stared at them, face impassive, yet she felt emotion, electric and real; it made her skin crawl.
Behind it, she could see snow, a torrent of white, uprooting trees and scattering birds. She turned to see Elizaveta shouting, soundless. Then, she was gone, flesh seared from bone, until all that remained was a glimmer of the light-ray that had erased her from existence. Around her, those who had yet to flee suffered a similar fate. No space, no time to think, she let her feet carry her. Her breath was like thunder in her ears.
One moment, she saw sky, and then all was dark.

In the distance, she heard someone scream. She bit her tongue, dragging herself forward. Her leg was broken. The pain was like white-fire. She looked around. A body lay close by. A familiar glimmer of silver.
“R… Reuben?” She shook his shoulder. Once, then again, roughly. Her vision blurred, the sting of despair wracking a sob from her chest. In the distance, she heard a rumble—low but quickly deafening, heralding another avalanche. “Elia, save me.”

Ten years was not very long in the eyes of an Angel, but ten years away from a home like heaven felt like a thousand. When the Constructs appeared, god sent out his Guardian Angels, those who connected themselves to humans in order to aid and protect them. Since the beginning of the war, Firaniel had connected himself to five people and had done his best to keep them alive. But in the end, they each were destroyed by these creatures. While the rush of connecting with someone was exhilarating, the feeling of losing a charge, someone you're connected to so deeply, was nearly crippling. It left a deep ache in one's chest that didn't go away until they connected to someone again. That was how Firaniel felt right now, as he soared high above the land in search of a new human to protect.

The snowy landscape underneath passed by quickly, as power wings flapped rhythmically, keeping the Guardian Angel in flight. If he had allowed himself to be visible, the humans still probably wouldn't have seen him. With his snow white hair and wings, pale skin, and almost entirely white clothing, he blended in with the landscape quite well. The only color that stood out on his was the purple and yellow patterns on his robes, and his strange violet eyes. Firaniel had the desire to land and play in the snow for a while, as he found great joy in doing so, but now was not the time. For he has a Construct in his sights. Whether there were humans around to connect to or not, it was his job to help the humans by slaying Constructs.

As he got close, his ears picked up sounds that he was hoping not to hear. The screams of humans. There must have been a group fighting, or trying to fight, the Construct. Firaniel cursed under his breath and speed up his flight, searching the ground below for any signs of them. It was only after dodging around the Construct that he found the group. Diving down he landed in the snow, eyes scanning for any survivors. He spotted at least one, a woman with platinum hair and an obviously broken leg. A man lay next to her, either dead or unconscious, he couldn't tell from here. The Construct had stirred up an avalanche that was quickly headed towards them. Firaniel made a split second decision, and was at the human's side in an instant.

There was no time to heal the woman's injury, or check to see if the man was even alive. The Guardian Angel crouched down in between the two, his hand hovering over the woman's back. A small amount of his power entered her, connecting him to her soul. He could instantly feel her distress, the pain from her leg, everything. Now visible to his new charge, Firaniel stretched his wings out to cover both the woman and the man, something that was against his nature to do in a dangerous situation. Calling upon his Ice magic, Firaniel splayed his fingers out and lifted his hands above his hands. As his hands raised, a dome of ice rose up around the two humans. As long as Firaniel's magic was protecting them, the avalanche wouldn't harm them any further. Especially because he was protecting a charge at the time, which meant his magic was stronger. It was part of the reason he had chosen her as his next one.

Firaniel had two choices when it came to the woman's injury. He could either transfer it over to himself, or use Healing magic on it. Considering that he couldn't heal himself and would have to suffer with a broken leg, just healing it definitely sounded like the better choice. He mainly used the transferring of wounds if it was something that would kill the human before he could heal it. After all, it took far more to kill him that it did a human. Unfortunately, using both Healing and Ice magic at the same time was difficult. But if he put down the shield now, the Construct was going to kill the humans. A small sigh escaped his lips, then his focus sharpened. One of his hands changed from being over his head, to hovering over the woman's broken leg. "This may hurt, but try not to move." He muttered as Healing magic began to pour from his fingertips into the woman's leg. Almost instantly, broken bone began to shift back into place and repair itself.