A complex circle, pulsing with many different symbols, ran through and encompassed the two. Its light grew brighter, intensity increasing moment by moment.
A wall of the purest form of divinity burst forward from the outer perimeter of the circle, shielding them from any prying eyes.
"Sorry, it'll take a couple of minutes," said Luna, standing next to the boy, a look of boredom plastered on her face.
Ratella merely nodded, a feeling of nausea coming over his mind, disrupting all his senses.
"You okay? You look paler than usual."
Luna looked down at the boy, tilting her head in confusion at his behaviour.
Ratella nodded his head once again, not wanting to open his mouth in case more than words came out. He could only imagine the consequences of spewing his stomach in the middle of a teleportation spell.
Eventually, the divine wall receded, revealing an expansive collection of books, all meticulously categorised by genre and letters. Although only three people lived in Divinations Rest, there were seats and tables littered around the library of the world's knowledge.
Ratella only managed to keep his bile in his stomach, pushing it down forcefully. Not wanting to make a bad impression on whoever was the keeper of this library.
"Oh, I'm sorry. The spell can be quite sickening to newcomers," said Luna, her lips turning downwards into a frown, feeling guilty about not mentioning it sooner.
"It's too late now," Ratella snapped, glancing up at the woman with obvious annoyance.
"Is this Divinations Rest?"
"Yes, it's split into three sections for each of the Seraphim who call this home. You could say this is Zafikel's room," Luna explained.
"It's quite rude to enter someone's room unannounced, Luna."
An unknown voice rang out from behind one of the many bookcases. Its tone is stern and laced with annoyance.
That tone was becoming a common occurrence in Ratella's new life.
"And to bring an outsider right into the heart of the Seraphim. Reckless, even for you. Is this your latest romantic project? A boyfriend?"
A tall man revealed himself, six wings affixed to his back. One holding a book in front of his face, still reading while speaking to the duo. None of his face was covered, one of his eyes holding a void of purple with erratic golden streaks running through it.
His eyes weren't the only intriguing thing about the man; his outfit was odd as well. Down to his knees draped a silver robe, golden and purple chains weaving themselves in a tangle around his body.
The man's name was Zafikel, the third Seraphim.
Zafikel's face twisted in surprise at the appearance of Ratella in his library. He quickly recovered, turning back into an expression of indifference, but his other eye still held all his newfound curiosity.
"Of course, he's not my boyfriend, idiot," stated Luna, cheeks growing red with embarrassment. She adjusted her wings to cover them, only moving them back when they had returned to their normal shade.
"Who is this?" asked Zafkiel, peering into the boy's eyes and walking laps around him, inspecting his wings, holding his fist up to his chin.
His six wings stretched outwards, repositioning the loose books on the shelves and sweeping the dust from the floors.
"Ratella Evergarden, sir."
"Where did you find this kid, Luna?"
"In Nova, he was supposed to be a weapon used against us, but I found him before that reality would be actualised."
"This shouldn't be possible. His wings are real and hold the divinity equal to ours, so he must be a Seraphim, but why wouldn't he tell us he created a new Seraphim?"
Millions of questions wrapped around his brain; the confusion and wild curiosity at Ratella were devouring the other thoughts in his brain. His wings paused their miscellaneous tasks, returned to their original position, and focused his full attention on the conundrum standing before him.
"I do not know, I came here first to hear your opinion on the matter."
"Yes, I wouldn't expect you to know anyway."
Luna faced twisted slightly in blatant annoyance at the man's way with words, apparently not even realising the undertone held within.
"Mhm, boy. Who are your parents?"
"I don't know, I'm an orphan."
"Well, your wings can usually hint at your heritage, but no Seraphim has either of those colours, so you can't be an offspring of a Seraphim. So that only leaves one possibility that he made you, but I can't wrap my head around why or when and why he wouldn't tell his most loyal followers."
"Do you remember anything from your past?"
"The first five years of my life are a blur, sorry."
"Time will reveal the secrets in your mind. Whenever that happens, you will come to me first, yes?"
Zafkiel looked into Ratella's eyes, his thirst for knowledge blatant by ecstasy plastered on his face in the presence of an unknown variable.
Ratella nodded to the man, causing his only eye to grow wider in speculation of the boy's existence.
"So what are you going to do with him?"
"He's a Seraphim. What else but training the boy to stand on equal footing with us?" Luna answered.
"And you want my help with this, I expect?"
"Yes, I'll train him on combat skills while you'll teach the boy about history and the origins of the world."
"Urr sounds boring."
"Like you have anything better to do, and if you don't act nice to him. You might never get the reason for his existence."
"Hm, I suppose you are correct. I'll begrudgingly teach the brat."
"How am I a brat? We've just met."
"Shush, I can just tell," stated Zafikel, dismissing the boy's search for an argument. "So, Luna, what will Michael do to train the brat?"
"When Ratella gets to fifteen, he'll teach the boy how to control his edict whenever he isn't busy."
"Good luck with that, he's always busy ruling the Kingdom."
"Maybe he'd have less stress if you left the library and helped him."
"I can't do that now. I have a brat to teach."
"Yeah, yeah. You're so lazy it's unfitting for a man of your standing."
Their squabbling continued for a couple of minutes before Zafkiel retreated back into his library, getting the last word in, which was apparently customary for the man.
His chains clacked against each other as he disappeared into the expansive webs of shelves.
"You won't be meeting Michael until you're fifteen, if you're wondering. He's far too busy at the moment handling the civil unrest creeping across the kingdom," Luna informed Ratella.
"In three years, then. What will I be doing in the meantime?"
"Training with me and learning about the world with Zafkiel."
"Come with me, I'll show you your room, then we'll start your training."
"Right now!?" shouted Ratella. He thought he would get at least a day to rest before training.
"Yes!" confirmed Luna, a grin spreading across her face, looking more childlike than mature.