Stumbling into an alley between two stone buildings, Patrick was met with a grisly sight. The tanner and his wife’s corpses lay against a destroyed barrel, their flesh flayed and eyes picked out. Patrick slapped a hand over his mouth, to keep from screaming or gagging he didn’t know.

“As is typical, it seems as though Sir Smite was a touch late to the party.” A voice suddenly piped up, startling Patrick. Across the way of the alley, partly hidden by shadows, was a redheaded man leaning casually against the wall. He stared at the same corpses with a look Patrick had never seen before.

Despite his location and subject, he wore an admiring smile that managed to be more distressing than any sort of frown. His eyes bore longingly into the corpses with a hint of envy and amusement. A pen of all things hung from his neck alongside a few small, ragged looking feathers.  He was handsome by all conventional standards and his clothing favoured orange, yet nothing else in his appearance seemed to particularly stand out.

The man looked up to Patrick with a pleased grin. “They chose to perish here, you know. I couldn’t help but bear witness to it all. They own a horse and live on the opposite side of town from where Liefland’s armies approached.” His eyes shut as he sighed deeply. “Yet they came all the way here in an attempt to retrieve their only daughter. For that, all three of their lives were lost.” He looked back to the corpses, placing his hand on his cheek. “How mystifying. Isn’t it lovely, though? Even in such a dire situation where only one clear option will allow them to live on, these humans would still recognize their freedom and prefer to do as they please.” He looked to Patrick. “Well, is it not beautiful?”

“Are you one of them, too?” Patrick asked nervously. Certainly, he had the same piercing gaze, and yet his appearance was entirely normal in comparison. The man’s head tilted to the side in amusement. “One of them?” He repeated. “Hmm, unfortunately.” He pushed himself off of the wall and held out his arms in dramatic fashion. “Well of course I am, though. After all, we were asked to seek you out and watch over you and I stand before you now!” His grin turned mocking with his tone. “Whether we would want to or not we are here for you, you’re just that special. Isn’t it comforting?”

“Special?” Patrick backed away from the approaching man.

The man nodded, grabbing his pen in his left hand and yanking it away from the necklace it hung on. “Indeed! You can’t believe just any average individual would receive a visit from so many angels in a single lifetime? The boss would never allow it, what a waste of our time!” The stranger pointed to Patrick with the pen. “And their acting, it was absolutely dreadful was it not? But here they are, tugging your life around as though you were a mere puppet.” He began approaching the young man, pen still pointed directly at him as though it were a knife. “And for you to not only have such immense awakening potential but to also be so willing to play along, what a catch for them! Today would mark the next test in how tightly they can yank on your strings, too.”

The stranger’s pen dug into Patrick's chest as his smile turned cold. There was an immobilizing hatred in his eyes that terrified Patrick more than even the golden knight’s furious gaze. “What a pathetic creature you are, you don’t deserve to be called human in all honesty.” He spat, leaning in towards Patrick’s face close enough for a stray hair to brush against the young man’s forehead. “All the freedom in the world lies within you, and yet you still do exactly as you are told by them.”

Malicious curiosity filled the stranger’s eyes. “I wonder if I were to dispatch with you what they would do? After all, they’ve only tested what they plan to do to you a handful of times before now. Certainly, they aren’t ready if they’ve chosen to place you in the hands of another for the time being. If I end you right now though, what would they do?” He turned his attention away from Patrick for a brief moment, staring out towards the street before returning to him for more questions. “Would they attempt their plans once again or would they simply give up? I suppose it depends on his mood, would it not?”

Patrick couldn’t reply. The stranger stared him down, a look of deepening revulsion consuming him. After several moments, however, he simply let out an unnerving chuckle and retreated. “Oh, don’t look so terrified. After all, I’m one of them, I couldn’t do such a thing if I dedicated my entire existence to the attempt. The boss' wishes are what I must obey after all.”

He held out his right hand towards Patrick. “I apologize, I allowed my emotion to overtake me, I only truly meant to introduce myself. My friends call me Luci and you certainly seem like quite a friendly fellow.” He chuckled to himself. Patrick’s eyes widened. “Since the boss doesn’t feel it appropriate I have a chance with you as the others do, I’m afraid you and I will be unlikely to cross paths often. But how could I resist getting a closer look at the man who put my dear Uri in such a huff for so many years? He has more important things to think about, you know.”

When Patrick couldn’t bring himself to shake the stranger’s hand he sighed, putting it back down to instead outstretch it in a dramatic shrug. “For six years now, nothing but disappointed complaints. How am I to get any work done in such a situation? How can I not be intrigued? Alas, you really are just as boring and insignificant as he said, I thought for sure there must have been something more to it! But it seems not…” His grin grew in amusement. “Well, that’s how it seems at least. Yet you’re here instead of there, with that oafish Spartan. Why? Did he frighten you? Threaten you?”

Once again the stranger ignored the concept of personal space, pushing his face into Patrick’s. “Or perhaps you have finally taken notice of their strings and have chosen to escape?” There was a curious and excited spark in his eyes as he spoke. He leaned against the same wall as Patrick, causing the young man to flinch away. The orange stranger placed a hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place with a surprising grip. “You are still human after all. I’ve always loved humans, you know? Their freedom, their choices. It’s fascinating watching humans make decisions. I’ve always aspired to try it myself one day.”

He leaned against Patrick’s shoulder, making an expression that may have intended to be sad yet he continued to smile. “It’s why it breaks my heart to look at someone as pathetic as you, who is being strung along into believing they have no free will. Being tugged this way and that by beings beyond your comprehension who have no appreciation for human’s true capabilities to make their own decisions. It’s disheartening, to say the least. If not even a human can resist these constrictions then how can I hope to do so? I’m not fond of such negative thoughts. And that is why I am here.”

“Get away from me!” Patrick finally shouted, throwing the man’s arm off and stumbling back.

The stranger watched in amusement and genuine happiness as he motioned towards the young man. “There! See, even you who has been indoctrinated your entire life can make choices! That’s the true human spirit I love!” He placed a curious finger to his chin as Patrick attempted to get back to his feet. “Tell me, you’ve looked around at this place. It would not have been in such a state, these poor souls dead and their belongings destroyed, if it were not for whom?”

“The Leiflanders,” Patrick answered cautiously. Luci swung his arm in the direction of the abbey. “No, no, you said it yourself did you not? It was them, the paladins who despite all their power allowed this town to fall to ruins before they lifted a finger. And there are even more of them out there, yet the hellish Leiflander army still terrorizes the continent!”

“You’re the devil, why should I listen to you?” Patrick fired back. The stranger smirked and placed a hand over his heart, or rather his pen, apologetically. “Ah, you folks always love to pull this card. I suppose it’s my own fault for letting the zealous brute and his pretty little nanny do all the writing. In my defense, I did so under the belief that they would not figure how to put a pen to paper, nor that their intelligence reached the extent that they would think to ask a human to write it. You’ve met the pair, you can understand my surprise. I commend their growth, if nothing else, despite the trouble it has caused me.”

Patrick stood his ground, however. He glared at the stranger as he dared to step closer. “You cannot trick me, Devil. I know how your lies work. You’re trying to take advantage of all this to weaken my faith!”

Luci raised his hands defensively. “Now, now. No need to say such hurtful things. Don’t be so hasty, you don’t know nearly as much as you believe you do. I’ve only come here to remind you of your humanity.”

“Silence!”

“I’d prefer not to.”

“Your lies won’t work on me, I’ve spoken to the angels myself! They protect me!”

The stranger snorted, his eyes burning with hatred once again. “Really? “Protect?” You truly have no clue. Tell me, where are they now? You’re alone, I’m the only angel here. When your town is in ruin, the folks you cared for dead, and your faith questioned, where are they?”

“We are right here.”

Patrick and the stranger both turned towards the mouth of the alley in surprise. There stood the golden knight. His eyes and earring glowed in the darkness, inspiring fear once again within Patrick. His cape swept away the miasmic haze around his feet as he stepped forward, glaring down at Luci with disgust. Flaming sword drawn towards the stranger, he growled, “And no one said you could show your face around this one, you dissident wretch.”

“No one said I couldn’t,” Luci replied with an equally disgusted look in his eye, somehow only intensified by his continued grin. “But you’ve really done a number on it, haven’t you Mikey? Well not you, of course, but your lapdog certainly did his best to mitigate the damage you might cause. Yet you still manage to mess it up. It’s almost a sort of talent, really.”

“And you seem to have corrected it for me, so I wonder why you’re still here.” The knight shot back as he marched forwards.

The stranger’s grin nearly faltered for the first time that evening. “Indeed, well, it seems too far gone I’m afraid. What a shame, Uri was right.” He spun on his heel, throwing a dismissive gesture at the pair. “Do what you please, I’ve lost interest. Looking at it any longer only depresses me.” He glanced over his shoulder one last time. “Oh, Patrick, the human who gave up its humanity. I hope you enjoy what they will do with you now that you have done so.” With those final words, the stranger rounded the corner out of the alley, fading into the smoke.

Patrick watched the exit for several moments until a strong grip grabbed his shoulder, yanking him back slightly in an attempt to acquire his attention. The golden knight stared down at him with a still burning gaze. “Do you see how it is?” He asked. “This town fell like many others because of the power devils such as that possess. He sought you out because he could smell your wavering faith and attempted to prey upon it. If I had not arrived he would have tainted your soul like he has done to many others.”

“I’m sorry,” Patrick said weakly. “But everything… What am I supposed to do? He is right, everything is dead.”

“It’s because you sit in that abbey, ignorant to the world.” The knight snarled as he led Patrick into the town. “You blame me for not saving this town, yet you yourself never lifted a hand. There is a power within you, however. With it, you may save others from their sin before this happens once again.”

Patrick looked around at the destruction surrounding them as he allowed the knight to pull him around. There was nothing left here. “Can I really do something like that?” he asked quietly.

“If you do as I say I will show you how,” The golden angel replied, a victorious grin spread across his face. Patrick could only nod in acceptance before pausing. “Um…”

“What now?” The knight growled in irritation. Patrick hesitated. “You’ve never told me your name.”

The golden angel stared him down before he turned away and continued to drag them both along. “It is Michael.”

Patrick went with Michael, away from the town and abbey he’d spent his whole life around. With time the structures completely rotted away until nothing was left of the town or abbey, as did Patrick. Year after year, he spent fighting alongside the paladins Michael had raised against Leifland’s corruption. As others gave way to their fears and doubts,  Patrick remained by the golden angel’s side until the very end. They broke through the Leiflander’s ranks and made straight for the King of the Dead, pushing their way through his rotting armies. They would purge his evil from the land and cleanse the earth of the pain and suffering he caused every man in his wake.

Alas, the first vague glimpse of the king Patrick caught would be the last sight he’d see. The cloaked man’s undead servants overpowered the last of the paladins, despite their frail, often childlike bodies. The moment the burning blade was plunged through his chest, Patrick reached out for the fading golden glow that stood before him as it apologized for being unable to grant him much else but this mercy.