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nebu-hii-ejamu:

A seraph about Sorey’s physical age glanced out the window, sporting a shiny silver regalia with the ancient crest on it and light blond hair tipped with silver at the ends. He also had an eerie holy glow about him. “Ladylake…. There was a time where this land belonged to the ancient Midgand empire. Humans walked the streets with ancient seraphim, called malakhim at the time, fearing malevolence and turning to the Shepherd of the time…”

He turned to face Lunarre. “So, you’ve come. I bid you greetings, young hellion.”

“Save the pleasantries,” Lunarre spat. “I don’t care about any of that ancient crap.” 

This resonance emitting from the cherubic seraph was unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was immense. It was sickening, so much that it took all Lunarre’s concentration to speak without ejecting bile.

Was this a big mistake?

“What do you want from me? Why bring me here?”