in the present and in the future. He had never seen the single pool which held the future. Only a few angels were allowed entry to the room containing it in the grand palatial house of Heaven, and those angels were sworn to silence, allowed only to speak to their superior, who in turn relayed necessary information on critical events to other high ranking angels. His superior included. Which led Marcus to believe that he was aware of what fate awaited Amelia. Marcus curled his fingers into fists and frowned at the vambraces protecting his forearms, watching the way the sunlight danced across the blue armour and reflected off the silver raised edges and the silver buckles on the leather straps against his underarms. There was something freeing about changing out of his mortal appearance and donning his armour. He felt closer to home again and distant from the goings on of the mortal world around him. He shrugged his shoulders, raising the blue breastplate of his armour and exposing his bare stomach, and then stretched his arms out at his sides and closed his eyes as he unfurled his wings. Warm summer air tickled his silvery-blue feathers, teasing his senses, and he basked in the sunlight, absorbing the heat and allowing it to relax him and chase away his troubled thoughts. He was a soldier. Soldiers followed their orders. He didn’t have to think. He just had to follow orders and his mission would be over. Marcus opened his eyes and looked at the infinite sky. The pale blue dome turned to green and then hues of orange near the horizon, scattered with ribbons of cloud that caught the fading sunlight and burned gold and pink. It was beautiful and this evening it would be his playground again, his world in which he would immerse himself to escape the mortal realm and find peace for a few brief hours. He would fly until he ached from the exertion, until he couldn’t beat his wings one last time, and then he would return to his apartment and sleep until morning finally came. Free of this world. Five centuries without wings and every day had been torture. He beat his wings and lifted off the tarred roof only to be struck by a shaft of brilliant white light. Marcus closed his eyes and waited for the tingling sensation caused by the light to pass before opening them again. He sighed at the sight of the white double doors ahead and the reception room surrounding him. All he had wanted was to fly for a while. Couldn’t they have waited? By the time they returned him, it would be deep night. These things never moved swiftly and while they could return him to the same moment they had taken him, they never did. Marcus pushed the double doors open and marched straight to the dock, facing the same three angels who had questioned him the last time they had brought him here. “There has been a development.” His superior sat at the head of the triangle closest to Marcus, his sandy hair as neat as his blue armour and the large silver-blue wings tucked against his back. The dark haired mediator and white-blond haired angel of death murmured in agreement. “May I ask what this development is?” Marcus hid none of his displeasure at having his plans for the evening ruined. They had brought him here and he would make the most of it. While they hadn’t answered direct questions about his mission, perhaps they would answer one about the date of the event if he asked it in such a way that linked it to this development. “Does it mean my mission will end soon?” All three angels nodded. “Your final task approaches.” There was no lie in his superior’s expression, or that of the other two angels. “Soon your mission will end, Marcus.” “You have been patient in your duty and we appreciate everything you have done for us. Once this final task has been completed, you will be free to return to Heaven.” The mediator to his superior’s left smiled at him and then looked across at the angel of death. “You must be