The kind stranger led Azealous through the rain splattered streets towards his home. Azealous hoped that his kindness was genuine, something he'd long forgotten it could be. He doubted that it could be true, but hoped anyway. He didn't want to have to run once again. 

He clutched the buttons of his coat tightly in one hand, his arm pressed against his chest. His eyes kept darting back and forth across the streets around them, fearful of any sign they were being followed. The stranger seemed oblivious to his fears and kept strolling at an even pace. But was that obliviousness just an act? He couldn't tell. 

Yet he didn't have long to fear their destination for they soon arrived at it. The stranger stopped and turned to the front door of his house, turning a key in its lock. "Here we are, then," he said, motioning for Azealous to join him inside with a friendly smile on his face. Azealous gave him a long, considering look before slipping inside first. 

Once inside the stranger's home, Azealous carefully stepped away from the front door, his eyes once again darting about his surroundings. But he didn't see anything too odd, perhaps it was a bit cluttered but it seemed a nice enough place. He let himself relax slightly, focusing on slowing his anxious breath. He didn't notice the stranger enter behind him and shut the door. 

"Welcome, you can hang your coat here-" the stranger motioned to a coat rack "-and I'll go make us some tea. Any preference?" The stranger gave him a warm smile as he spoke. Azealous didn't keep him waiting on an answer, almost immediately shaking his head in silence. The stranger, who Azealous just realised he didn't know the name of, walked off to the kitchen, leaving his visitor by the front door. 

He stayed still by the door, debating whether or not to remove his coat. On the one hand, this stranger had already seen a glimpse of his wings, would a full look hurt any more? Yet on the other, he was still terrified of the possibility that this man could just wish the hand him to his hunters. He glanced between the coat rack and direction the man had left in.

With a shaky sigh he unbuttoned the front of the coat, taking his time to not stretch the material too tight across his back. As the two sides of the coat swung free once more, he slipped his arms up the sleeves, leaving it resting on only his shoulders. A final bit of doubt made him pause and begin to reconsider but, after idling for a minute, maybe two, he shrugged the heavy coat of his shoulders.

Beneath the coat he worse a simple, well worn shirt obviously slightly too big and long for his frame. His arms were clearly muscled but stayed by his sides as his fingers played with the shirt hem. His trousers were in a similar state to his shirt and had holes on the knees. His shoes were only sandals, held together by twine, hopes, and dreams. Yet those weren't the most remarkable things about him. 

On his head, just above his pointed ears, flapped a tiny pair of wings. They'd been uncovered while he walked but pressed so rightly to his hair they just blended in. From his should blades grew a pair a ragged wings, bent at crooked angles and uncared for, for years. And just over the waist of his trousers came a feathery tail. Together they shared a colour scheme, mainly white with flecks of a dark brownish black across them. 

Around his waist was a simple leather belt with sword and sheath attached, but further straps secured the sheath around his thigh as well. The hilt of the sword could be seen above the top of the sheath, made of a shimmering combination of a rare white and black material. A pair of wings, one white, the other black, connected to the blade. 

To anyone who knew anything about the winged races of the realm, this was a sign of an outcast. An individual with no place to truly call home. And Azealous was no exception as he waited by the door, his head wings fluttering nervously. His left hand rested on his sword, out of instinct and experience. 

The stranger returned, carrying a tray on which the tools of tea drinking sat. A pair of cups, a teapot, a small bowl of sugar, an some milk. He blinked in surprise at how different Azealous looked without his coat and looked like he longed to badger him with questions, but simply motioned for him to follow him to the dining room where they could sit and talk. Azealous followed, a little less wary of this man.

The stranger placed the tray on the table and pulled out a chair with Azealous copying his motions. They sat in silence across the table for a few moments, Azealous watching the stranger for any sign of betrayal. The stranger was the first to speak, "It's wonderful to meet you, my name is Thaddeus." He smiled and offered his hand across the table. 

Azealous paused to consider his next move but soon accepted the hand and shook it. "Likewise, my name is Azealous," he replied, a cautious tone obvious in his voice. "Why did you invite me here? Especially after you saw my wings..." 

"Ah, curiosity I suppose. I hope you don't mind if I ask you to tell me about yourself?" Thaddeus asked as he poured both of them some tea. Azealous sipped it quietly before shaking his head. "No, it's fine. It's quite a long story, however.." He replied, placing the cup back down. 

Thadeuss smiled and looked at Azealous, "That's perfectly alright, tell me as much as you want." Azealous nodded, collecting his thoughts in his head. How much did he want to tell this stranger? He supposed he had a right to know if he was in his house... 

"Well, as I said, my name is Azealous," he began. "I'm the child of a female seraph and male imp and was raised, until just after I turned ten, in the cloud cities of the seraphim and imps. Neither race wanted much to do with me, they're both almost constantly fighting each other and could see the traits of the other in me, no matter which side it was. 

"I was pushed off the edge of the clouds by my peers, falling to the ground below. I landed on my wings, shattering them irreparably, and it left me unable to return. Which is exactly what they wanted. I met a friend, a shapeshifter, who had black wings like the imps. But the shapeshifters are an ancient race, completely different to either of the modern winged races. 

"To help both of us manage to blend in on the ground, I made her an imp sword with the materials all seraphim and imps are required to carry. Then we had to run, and we've kind of been running ever since. I've spent hours upon hours in town libraries, looking for a way to fly again... There's just nothing in the books and I have no magic of my own."

Azealous shrugged as he finished, taking another sip of his tea. He watched Thaddeus carefully for his reaction, noting how calmly and quietly the elf drank. He'd noticed his attention on him as he told his story but he feared the reaction he was going to get. The pair sat in silence for a few moments, both drinking tea as rain pattered outside. Azealous' headwings fluttered for a moment before being consciously pulled back against his head.

"Well, I see.. I think I can help you," Thaddeus replied. Azealous was surprised by his tone, it was calm but with undertones of excitement. His heart leaped, perhaps he would soon have an answer to his issues and finally be able to live without fear. He bounced out of his seat, a couple of drops of tea splashing out of the cup. "You can?! But how?!" He exclaimed, blinking in surprise for a moment before quickly taking a seat once more. He leaned closer to the table.

Thaddeus smiled, "Give me ten minutes, and I'll show you." Azealous nodded and quickly picked up the tea tray to take through to the kitchen and clean up. He wasn't even aware of his usual worries about acting strange to the 'common' folk, he was just too excited for whatever answer Thaddeus may have. He turned the tap on in the kitchen and began rinsing the remnants of tea from each of the cups and the tea pot. His hands flew in graceful, well trained motions as he did so. Each was soon perfectly clean and dry, left on the side as Azealous didn't know where they were stored.

He returned to the hallway outside the room the pair of them had drank the tea, remaining outside to not disturb Thaddeus in his work. He fidgeted and tapped his feet, trying to calm down or even just to force time to go a little faster. He soon found himself pacing back and forth out of impatience, his headwings flapping furiously on the sides of his head. He jumped from glee and surprise when an "Aha!" came from the room.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, trying to calm his bouncing. Thaddeus invited him to look at the scroll he had found and unrolled on the table. Azealous peered down at it, finding his jaw hanging open in shocked surprise. The paper stared back at him depicting a pair of seemingly functional wings. He reached out to touch the parchment but recoiled as Thaddeus began speaking once more. "The only inconvenience," he explained, "is that I need a special kind of metal to construct them from if you want your magic back as well."

Azealous' attention was locked on Thaddeus, he was willing to do anything to get his flight back. Well, most things. "The good part is, I know where to find it," Thaddeus continued, silently sending his hawk away to perhaps retrieve something. "The bad part is that it's a very dangerous journey to get there. So, what do you say? Are you ready for an adventure?"

A deep, shadowy ravine gaped open in front of a strange pair of travellers. The sides, made of wet, grey stone and almost perfectly smooth, slipped down into a bottomless blackness. One of the pair, a younger man on the shorter end of the scale with a crooked pair of wings, took a brief glance into the chasm before quickly stepping backwards again. He caught the inside of his lip between his canine teeth as he stared across the gap with wide eyes. "And now what?" He asked of the other man, internally wincing at the impatient tone of his voice. 

The man beside him, taller and wingless, sighed at his question. The annoyance he was feeling was almost palpable to the winged man as he turned to look at his impatient companion. "You know, it's not my fault you were holding the map upside down. But, of course, we had to take the shortcut. I'm here because of you, remember?" He reminded him, shaking his head as he spoke. 

He offered the map to him as he rolled his eyes. "Well, Thaddeus, if you are going to tell me that constantly every time I make a mistake," he exclaimed, "I might as well just go home! I didn't ask for your help, remember?" With his last sentence, he mimicked the tone of Thaddeus' similar last line. 

That, however, isn't quite the beginning of the story. In fact, it's somewhere much closer to the middle. The story begins with the meeting of these two men: Thaddeus, an elf with empathic abilities; and Azealous, or Azzy, a half-seraph, half-imp individual who is often referred to, by friend and enemy alike, as a seraphimp.

It was a rainy day, one of those days where the clouds open up and you'd much rather stay indoors to avoid it all, with a gently, chilly breeze just to knock the temperature down even closer to freezing. The streets were rather empty, most were hurrying to their destination to avoid as much of the downpour as they could, and no one was idly wandering or standing around. 

No one except this man. His untamed hair with an unusual colouration stood out against both the rain and the large, thick coat he wore tightly around him. He stood in the doorway of perhaps the shadiest inn in town and peered around the corners to look for anyone approaching. He took a deep breath, screwing his eyes shut for a moment and reaching down to pat his hip. He breathed out, relieved it was still there, though he didn't know why he bothered, he'd never taken it off. 

With another quick glance both ways, he stepped out from the doorway and began walking. His strides were uncomfortably long and he feared himself slipping on the wet ground. But he didn't slow down, he kept the pace he had as he tried to look more confident, more normal. The back of his coat rustled ever so slightly as he tried to feel more comfortable. He winced, such a small movement it was almost imperceptible unless you were looking. 

His destination slowly neared as he hurried along the empty streets. How he wished he could have been closer to it, his choice of inn was on the very edges of the town, but he dared not risk being caught. He paused in the soft lamplight spilling from a half open door, the building inside smelling friendly, familiar, and comforting. He smiled and stepped closer, carefully pushing the door wide enough for him to slip inside. 

Shelves upon shelves of books and scrolls ascended into the dark crevices of the ceiling. Precarious platforms and walkways extended out from these at regular intervals, perhaps to allow mindless browsing. His attention turned to the librarian, an older gentleman who seemed quite busy dusting and cleaning older books and those that had just been returned. He walked up to him, putting a friendly smile on his face. "Excuse me, sir?" He asked, still unused to human formalities. The old librarian's face broke into a warm smile. "Azealous! You're back, I got you your library card sorted. You can take those books home now," he replied, his tone excited but kept quiet as to not disturb other visitors.

Azealous grinned with relief, he no longer had to worry about being caught from spending hours in public. He nodded his head to the librarian, "Thank you, I'll come back with what I want." He turned and walked away from the desk, trying to ignore the growing discomfort from his coat, it was hot and sweaty but he dared not take it off. He immediately strode towards the magics collection, browsing the shelves for any hint of a book that contained what he wanted. His finger trailed across rows of book spines, his eyes following its path closely. He eventually pulled an older tome from its place, the cover worn and dusty but its title holding hope for what he needed. 

He quickly turned and walked back to the circulation desk, clutching the tome and his coat close to his chest. The librarian greeted his with a smile. "Ah, that's the book you want? Can do, young man," he said, taking the offered book from Azealous. He swiftly scrawled the borrower's name one a sheet of parchment and slid a dated card inside the cover. He handed the book back. "You've got three weeks with it. Make sure it returns in the same condition, we went over the fines yesterday," the librarian grinned, "Anyway, apart from that spellbook, was there anything else you wanted?" 

Azealous shook his head, offering another friendly smile before turning to leave. He noted a new visitor standing nearby, a hawk perched on his shoulder. He seemed to be watching him, but then, who wouldn't be? He shook the stranger from his mind and hurried out into the rain, eager to get back to his room. 

But as he did so, he bumped into the stranger, spilling all of the books the two were carrying onto the floor. Of course he'd been to preoccupied to pay attention to what he was doing, of course he had. Frustration grew in his mind, doubling in intensity once he realised his spellbook was among those now on the ground. Without hesitation, he snatched it back to his chest, his arm moving at clearly inhuman speeds, he pressed it to himself once it was back in his grasp. 

Yet the situation was not over yet, horror struck him as he realised his coat had slipped and he quickly tugged it tight round him again. He hoped the stranger hadn't seen it... He looked at him, stomach plummeting to new depths as he recognised the look on his face. He'd seen them. He cursed himself. 

"I'm sorry," he murmured, unsure how loud he could be, "Let me help you." He helped the stranger restack his books, not glancing at the titles as he did so. It wasn't his business what anyone else did, as long as it did not threaten him. Once the books were once again nearly stacked, he straightened up, ignoring the familiar pain shooting through his shoulders as he did so. 

To his surprise, the stranger spoke to him. "Would you like to join me for a cup of tea?" He asked, "My house isn't far from here." Azealous looked at him, wary and confused. What good reason could a stranger want to talk to him, especially after seeing beneath his coat? He gave him a nervous look before replying, "Sure.. I guess..."