Monastery of the Seven Forms, Lamashan 21, 4592 AR (part III)

“No.” The word slipped between his lips, without even thinking.

The angel raised her thin eyebrows.

“Don’t be shy, my dear.” She held out her hand. Its ebony complexion seemed almost ethereal, yet not as pale as Ayalal's.

The little boy shook his head in denial and hid his hands behind his back. Sëdara's smile wavered for a moment.

“Why not, little boy?” She asked, still holding her hand, palm up. “I’d take good care of you, you’d have what you desired, you’d be happy. You would have a family.”

“You're scaring him, my lady.”

Ayalal took a deep breath and looked away to the side of the corridor, where Lysa was approaching from the top floor. When she reached him, Ay reached out to grasp her hand, anchoring himself to Lysa’s presence and protection.

The angel stared at the newcomer and slowly straightened. She was about a hand taller, and all her divine countenance cast a heavy shadow over Lysa’s simplicity. But the young woman stared at her firmly, not allowing anything in the stranger to intimidate her.

“Am I? I did not mean to,” she remarked. As she spoke her blue eyes measured Lysa, paying particular attention to the scar on her face. “It’s a pity that such a special child does not want to come with me. He would be welcomed and no one would look twice at his... provenance.”

Ay’s small hand tightened even more firmly.

“He doesn’t want to go,” Lysa said, being direct.

The angel heaved a sigh and shrugged, resigned.

“If so... but you still have time to change your mind, little one. Time to choose having a family.”

Other than Lysa, no one seemed willing to dissuade Sëdara. Some of the children even threw glances of envy at such insistence.

Ay took a deep breath, finding some courage.

“Lysa is my family.”

For an instant, Sëdara’s eyes froze. The little boy shuddered and moved closer to Lysa’s skirt, trying to protect himself. Before the angel could respond to that statement, a male voice from the entrance called her. The cold disappeared and she turned around, watching the approaching man.

Ay also looked at him. Inside a well-cut suit, he was tall, elegant and handsome; but the little boy saw none of it. He took a deep, audible breath, his eyes widening. There was something wrong, something bad around that man. He shook his head, frightened by what he felt and was unable to comprehend.

“My lady, we can’t delay any longer,” the man said. He looked at Ay for a fleeting moment, only because he realized that it was with him that Sëdara had been speaking. He was going to look away with disinterest, but noticed how the child looked at him and frowned.

“You’re right. I was just finishing,” she remarked. “I can take my children right now, right, Headmistress?”

“As we agreed,” said Drane, looking at the five chosen.

Myria leapt into place.

“I'll get my doll!”

And she was about to start running, when the newcomer stopped her, bending down and grabbing her arm.

“It is not necessary. We have lots of dolls,” he said with a kind smile. “Pretty like you.”

The little girl hesitated, her enthusiasm fading a little.

“But Mimi will be sad if I leave her here... I can’t really go? Please sir?”

It was Sëdara who answered, approaching and placing a hand on her head in a caress.

“We'll come back for Mimi later” she said.

The words convinced Myria and she let herself follow the man who had come to call the angel, along with the other children. The man did not look back again, but Sëdara did so, staring at Ayalal. His attention wavered between the man who was already disappearing in the corridor, and the angel.

“I wish you to be happy with your family.” Sëdara glanced at Lysa, before moving away.

The words transmitted nothing more than sincerity, just like her angelic smile. However, Ayalal was unable to believe either of them.