Hagoromo pushed the door to the counsle room open heavily. All of the seraphim had fromed around the table except for Tenshi. all of the slight chatter was imideitly extinguished by the doors slam. "Tenshi is dead." Hagoromo announced to the group. "This can not be over looked. Enzeru, I know you think he is helping us, but how is killing one of our own helping? You are to go down and kill him. I will not allow the death of another seraphim!" Enzeru stood to argue, but sat down with out a word. He decided it was better not to push Hagoromo. Enzeru left the room and entered into the armory. The room was lined with armor, swords, and shilds. He removed an silver rapier with a crosshilt shaped like two angel wings from the wall. He slid it into a tattered old scabbard to mask it's true identity. The light that shone briliantly from the blade vanished the moment it was fully sheathed. He pulled a pure white cloak around his shoulders and walked out of the armory. As he walked down the path submerged in clouds, his cloak blew behind him. He steped up to the gate to the mortal realm and prepeared himself to leave. He took in a deep breath and pushed a lock of long silver hair from his eye. Pulling the cloak tighter, he stepped through the gate. He was consumed by light and the familiar feeling of emptyness. He shook slightly, knowing that this day might be his last.
(Just a reminder. The entries are number for a reason. Don't just read this one, start at the begining. Thank you.)
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The story of an angel who just didn't belong
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