The angels of high heaven were angry.
“They held so much promise,” one of the council members said. “This is such a waste of a resources. Think for a moment-- can we really afford to lose another soldier?”
The angel beside him shook her head. “We haven’t a choice,” she murmured, avoiding his eye completely. “They’ve broken too many rules. Besides,” suddenly her voice gained an edge, “if that demon were to gain control of them, Hell would have an insurmountable advantage over us.”
Closing his eyes, the first angel sighed. “Of course,” he said, “of course.”
On the stage before these angels stood Rune. Their eyes were shrouded by their hair, which had become knotted and greasy due to their lack of energy. The energy they did have was spent on repairing the wounds they received from the other angels.
“What is it?” they had asked them. “A succubus? A lowly demon? Answer me, traitor!”
But they didn’t. Rune hadn’t spoken since they had last seen Solomon. They had nothing to say; they couldn’t defend themselves nor did they want to. Rune also didn’t want to tell the angel high lords about Solomon.
It was strange, Rune mused. Very strange indeed. The only loyalty they had ever felt was to heaven, but now...
The floor beneath their feet suddenly vanished, the enchanted rope around their neck tightening. GUILTY, said the council. GUILTY, said the jury. GUILTY, said the wind.
But Rune already knew that.