✹ Dawn ✹ [w/ Serilda]

Sunlight began to peek into the city of Era. The rays illuminated the tops of the tallest buildings, slowly making its way down into the streets as dawn progressed. With the light came people. Cityfolk began to stir, waking to start their days. The city slowly came to life. Cool night air was whisked away by the heat of the sun. The nocturnal creatures stowed away in their dens, awaiting darkness once more. The light brought beginnings to the city, drumming up life in a formerly quiet establishment.

Yet, not everything in Era was as bright and peaceful in the morning light. Despair and sinisterity lurked. A figure hung limply from the front of the Rune Knight headquarters. Light highlighted the edge of hundreds of feathers, formerly a pristine white. Drip, drip. Crimson streaks marred the pure color into a dappled canvas of brown, red, and white. The large wings from which a man hung were pinned into the wall with bone spurs that protruded like gnarly nails. Through the rips in his clothing, bruises were visible. The marks had become a dark purple and black after having time to deteriorate. This angel, just recently so lively and healthy, hung like a limp ragdoll. Tear stains wove down his pale cheeks, creating a stark path against the blood and grime on his face. He was a gruesome sight that greeted whomever may approach, an omen of warning. The symbol carved into the stone below him was a calling card. Its intent was to tease and taunt, proudly claiming ownership to the broken body above.

Beaux had been unconscious for a while. The pain was constant, pulsing through his torso and wings with each beat of his heart. Even in his comatose state, his nerves felt every movement, every kiss of the breeze against open wound and sensitive flesh. After Sanguine had left, the struggle to stay awake was quickly lost. What was the point? Someone was bound to find him eventually, dead or alive.

The sunlight began to heat the angel’s skin. It slowly pulled him to the waking world like a horse would pull a cart up a hill. It struggled, pulled, shoved with the effort as the man’s body resisted. The muscle and bone needed to heal so his mind resisted, but at last gave in. Baby blue eyes crept open to a blank lidded stare. It was a while before they moved, taking in the sunlit scene around. Beaux blinked slowly. He was enjoying the warmth. It was a small pleasure to be had in the situation he was in.

The memory of Sanguine’s predatory gaze flashed through his mind. Icy blue eyes with slitted pupils stared into his soul. Beaux’s eyes shot open wide as a rush of fear and adrenaline shot through him. His heart began to beat and he gasped for air. Pain shot through his broken ribs, but the terror kept him inhaling anyway. Panic filled the angel as he glanced around desperately. He had to get away from the terrors in his mind. “H-help!” he wheezed. “Is anyone around? Help me please!”

The horrified shriek of a familiar voice graced Beaux’s ears, a comfort despite the volume and pitch. Someone had heard his cries! His eyes raised to the sight of Serilda standing below him, her wolf at her side. Beaux felt himself begin to be pulled away from the wall, likely with the Marshall’s magic. The angel felt an odd sensation as his wings passed through the bones that pinned him without pain. Down to the ground he was gently lifted until cool grass pressed against his battered back. Limp wings spread out across the ground, a few fallen feathers littered around. Beaux’s pain begin to ebb as healing magic flowed from Serilda. He could finally inhale a little easier now that each breath wasn’t met with jabs of white-hot pain throughout his torso. The explosive punch Sanguine had landed on his stomach had certainly broken many ribs and may have punctured some organs too. Though the man was divinely influenced, he was still human first. Such a physical attack would leave physical and mental scars.

Relief crashed through Beaux so strongly he felt as though he may weep again. After the attack, he had given up hope. The despair of being at Sanguine’s mercy made the angel give in to old woes. He had been close to death for the third time in his life and the reality of it made him wish for a swift end rather than to suffer any longer. To give up on life once again had scared Beaux to the core. It had been so easy to accept death in the moment, so easy to just pass instead of suffer. Now that Serilda had found him, he was glad he hadn’t passed.

A woman appeared next to Serilda. The Marshall instructed her to fetch a medical team, and the lady suddenly sprouted wings and flew off. Normally Beaux would worry about such a stranger but right now all he could focus on was the relieving coolness of the healing magic being channeled into his body. He would take all the help he could get. As Serilda addressed him, he heard a slight shake in her voice. Beaux knew he was in a bad condition, but seeing his superior so stricken made him realize just how awful he probably looked. Bloody wings, black and purple bruises covering most of his chest and back - he was a horrible sight.

“Th-thank you Madame Serilda,” he whispered. “I don’t know how I can repay you…” Speaking was surprisingly exhausting. A few deep breaths later, he continued. “I was coming back to the barracks from the library when I came across a woman in an alleyway.” Beaux paused again, relishing the cool feeling of the magic that was relieving his pain. “She seemed to have killed someone… a man. I don’t know who he was. Then she attacked me. I tried to fight back, I really did…” The angel’s words trailed off as he turned his head away in shame. If only he was stronger or had fought harder he wouldn’t be where he was now. He had been overtaken so easily, he felt weak. Beaux continued to beat himself up inside as he regained enough stamina to speak again.

“She used her hair to grab me, I think it was a kind of magic. I was thrown against a wall but I couldn’t move because of the hair. She said her name was Sanguine.” Beaux flinched at the thought of his assailant. His heart started to race again. “She looked half human, half dragon. Some sort of blood came out of her scales and she punched me here,” he attempted to raise a hand to gesture at his chest and stomach.

“Then she flew me here and she killed two guards.” Beaux continued, raising his hands to cover his face as grief contorted his face with a horrified sob. “A-and she used their bones to pin me up… merde!” Shakily he inhaled and exhaled at a rapid pace, fighting the sadness and panic rising inside. Two lives had been lost because of him. Beaux wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear, but in his current state that wasn’t possible. He resorted to turning away from Serilda so she didn’t see his tears. Baby blue eyes traced up the building to where he had hung. He noticed a symbol carved into the wall below the bloody marks. It was the Errings Rising guild mark, but Beaux didn’t know that.

“Look,” he said to Serilda, hoping she would recognize the symbol. “Sanguine left that.”