Night had already swallowed most of the city by the time Anaqielle arrived at the old clocktower district.
Rainwater dripped steadily from rooftops while dim lanterns flickered along the narrow streets.
Unlike the polished beauty of the sanctum districts, this part of the city felt worn and alive.
Music drifted from taverns.
People laughed too loudly.
Someone was arguing over cards in an alley nearby.
The scent of smoke, wine, and rain clung to the air.
Anaqielle preferred places like this.
Perfection suffocated her after three hundred years of seeing how superficial it is.
The building she stopped at had leaned slightly to one side as though exhausted by existing.
Half the windows were cracked.
One balcony looked moments away from collapsing entirely.
A wooden sign hung above the entrance: THE CROOKED VEIL.
Someone had added beneath it in black paint; Probably haunted.
Anaqielle pushed the door open.
Warmth and noise hit her immediately.
She came in search of an old friend.
The tavern buzzed with conversation, though several people visibly stiffened when she entered.
It was not because they recognized her but because fallen Serens always felt wrong to mortals.
Even hidden beneath illusion magic, there was still something unnatural about them.
Sin laying heavy beneath their skin.
Anaqielle ignored the stares and moved toward the back staircase.
She headed to the second floor and marched directly to the last room.
She knocked three times.
A voice called from inside.
“If you’re here to kill me, wait until I finish my drink.”
Anaqielle opened the door.
The room smelled faintly of incense and burnt paper.
A man lounged upside down on a couch with one leg hanging over the side, dark wings spread lazily beneath him like spilled ink.
Unlike most fallen Serens, he made no effort to appear dignified.
His black shirt hung half-unbuttoned, silver chains wrapped carelessly around his wrists, and an empty wine bottle rested dangerously close to falling off the armrest.
He glanced at her upside down then blinked.
“Well, well, well,” he said.
“You look emotionally distressed. This should be entertaining.”
Anaqielle shut the door behind her.
“Good evening to you too, Casius.”
Casius Veyr sat upright with exaggerated effort, rubbing his face dramatically.
“Anaqielle Light, you only visit me when something terrible happens.” He narrowed his eyes.
“Did you kill someone?”
“No.”
“Did someone try killing you?”
“No.”
“Did Heaven explode?”
Anaqielle sighed.
The scenarios Casius imagined sounded too ridiculous for her exhausted mind to keep up with.
“No,” she answered for the last time.
Casius looked disappointed but he didn’t let his mind continue running wild.
“Then what’s the problem?”
Anaqielle remained standing near the window.
For a long moment, she said nothing. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
Casius watched her carefully.
He slowly smiled and let out.
“I know that look.”
Anaqielle already hated that tone.
It sounded like a male version of Isa.
“What look?”
“You met someone.”
“N… no.”
“That was a lie.”
“I met the a holy maiden that heaven wants me to corrupt to carve a way back home.”
Casius froze.
Then immediately burst into laughter so violent he nearly fell off the couch again.
“Oh, this is catastrophic.”
Anaqielle glared.
“It is not catastrophic.”
“You.” He pointed at her accusingly.
“Assigned to corrupt a holy maiden.” Another laugh escaped him, he could barely hold it in.
“Radiance preserve us.”
“I came here for advice.”
“And I came into this world beautiful and emotionally stable. Unfortunately, life disappoints us all, sweetie.”
Anaqielle crossed her arms tighter.
She was fee up with his so-not-funny remarks.
Casius finally stopped laughing enough to pour himself another drink.
“So,” he said casually, “how bad is it?”
Anaqielle frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“How bad are your feelings for her?”
“I don’t have feelings. My heart has long turned to stone,” she said.
Casius stared at her.
He then deliberately took a long sip of wine without breaking eye contact.
Anaqielle looked away first.
She knew that look of his all too well, it was one that meant he’d taken a bite at w bone and he wasn’t letting go until she fessed up.
“Radiance above,” he muttered.
“It’s already advanced.”
“It is not.”
“You’re defensive. That’s stage one.”
“There are stages?” she asked.
“There are always stages, love,” He waved his glass lazily.
“First comes fascination. Then emotional denial. Then staring at them for concerning amounts of time. Then suddenly you’re standing in the rain wondering if love is worth eternal damnation.”
Anaqielle went very still.
Casius noticed instantly.
His eyes widened in delight.
“You’ve already done the staring, haven’t you?”
“N… no.”
“You absolutely have, you demon.”
Anaqielle said nothing.
Casius laughed again.
It came out softer this time.
Anaqielle frowned harder.
“What expression?” she inquired even though she knew she wasn’t going to like the answer.
“The one where you look alive, darling.”
The room fell briefly quiet.
That answer unsettled her more than she expected.
It made her aware of something she hadn’t realized and she hated it and inturn hated Laliya for it.
Casius leaned back into the couch, dark wings shifting behind him.
“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “The funny thing about Heaven is that they think corruption always looks monstrous.”
Anaqielle glanced toward him.
She already knew that truth, she herself was corrupted and the only monstrous thing she’s ever done is appreciate beautifully created eyes.
“But it rarely does.” He swirled the wine slowly in his glass.
“Sometimes corruption is simply caring too much or admiring something you shouldn’t have.”
His tone remained casual but there was something old beneath it.
He seemed tired.
Casius had Fallen nearly five hundred years ago.
Longer than most survived with their minds intact.
And he’s resigned to living the rest of his fallen years in pure indulgence.
Unlike Anaqielle, he didn’t wish to return to heaven where he’s be forced to suppress desires and act inhumanely robotic, only adhering to Radiance way of life of keeping his Lumen clean and untainted.
Anaqielle lowered her gaze.
“She cried because of me.”
Casius blinked, his gossip-loving heart snapping awake.
“What?”
“I upset her.” The words came quieter now.
“And she cried. What should I do?”
A slow grin spread across his face.
“Oh, you’re doomed.”
Anaqielle looked horrified.
“I am not doomed.”
“You made a holy maiden cry and now you feel guilty enough to come ask me for advice.” He pointed at her dramatically.
“That is the beginning of every terrible love story. And your damnation to internal darkness in hell.”
“It is not a love story.”
“Of course not. Those are the famous last words of most people and Seren before they fall in love.”
Anaqielle pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I hate talking to you.”
“And yet here you are consulting me. What happened to Isa? Was she not available to hear you out and offer you her counsel?”
Silence settled briefly between them before Casius’s amusement softened slightly.
“Alright,” he said.
“Real advice.”
Anaqielle finally looked at him properly.
She opened her eyes and mind to his thoughts on her trial.
Casius’s dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
“You need to decide something early.”
“Decide what?”
“Whether you want to complete the mission… or whether you want her to care what she thinks and feels for you.”
The question hit harder than expected because deep down Anaqielle already knew those two things might eventually become impossible to do at the same time.
Casius watched realization flicker across her face and sighed dramatically.
“Oh, this is going to end horribly.” He lifted his wine glass toward the ceiling.
“I can already feel the tragedy developing. Here’s to Anaqielle Light, the Seren who’ll soon become a demon,” he made a toast betting that Anaqielle would fail the mission.