“I suppose I’d better get on with it then,” he said to the lion who growled in agreement. The dark-haired man peered quickly down the bridge, left first then right, before vaulting onto the stonework. He spread out his wings, letting the breeze tease his feathers and stared down at the churning water rushing below. For a brief second he wondered what it would be like to fall forward and let the cold water whip about his wings as the river washed his body out to sea; but he quickly shook these thoughts from his head. He had more important issues that needed attending to than his musings on death. Closing his eyes, he turned his face to the sun and drew his wings about him.

He could see nothing now, only the faint sounds of the lion’s claws scratching the pavement as he paced were audible. It was distracting. The man closed his ears against it; he would not allow himself to be unfocused as he tried to reach the Conductor. The noises faded as his breathing rate slowed and a strange, floating sensation came over him.

He opened his eyes.

Nothing but blackness lay around him but he was not afraid. The dark was in his mind only and it was not threatening. He waited for a moment to get accustomed to his surroundings and to enjoy the peaceful silence. He flexed the muscles in his back, stretching his wings out and with a quick downward beat, flew up into the dark.

“Ephraim Aurelius, Number two-oh-six, requests the presence of the Conductor,” he called out into the Nothing. There was no reply. Ephraim waited as the silence echoed around him.

“This is Ephraim Aurelius, Number two-oh-six, requesting the presence of the Conductor. It concerns the matter of Marcus Umberto,” Ephraim tilted his head listening for any sign of the Conductor’s arrival. Finally it came; a faint whisper behind him made him turn and he watched as the vague outline of the Conductor began to materialize.

“Hello, Ephraim,” said the Conductor. He was dressed in stainless white that seemed to make him glow against the Nothing around them. He was much older than Ephraim, but his skin betrayed no sign of his age; it was smooth and flawless. His grey hair was swept away from his face although a few strands hung down in his light blue eyes. Even in his old age, thought Ephraim, he still looks like a fledgling. He remained quiet until they had descended and both stood on the ground that neither could see.

“Conductor,” he said and bowed respectfully, sweeping his wings out to either side of him. The Conductor nodded, and draped the excess fabric of his robes over a tanned forearm.

“I assume you have important news for me, Ephraim Aurelius two-oh-six, if I am to be called out of meeting with the Order,” he did not bother to hide the irritation from his eyes, but Ephraim was unfazed by the Conductor’s annoyance.

“My Second and I have finally located Marcus Umberto, Number seventy-three,” he reported unapologetically, “he is currently residing in the human city of Levithas near the Bordersland River. We were led there after hearing human rumors of ‘angels’ flying overhead. Naturally it had to be Marcus. You asked me to contact you as soon as I had sufficient information regarding his where-abouts.”

“My, my. This is important news then,” said the Conductor with raised eyebrows. He looked Ephraim over, registered the wide brown eyes and the strong jaw. It was really the first time the Conductor ever paid attention to his appearance and he was surprised by the confident air this young Seraph possessed. “I am impressed Ephraim. The Order was debating whether you were capable of ever finding Marcus Umberto. How long has it been now?”

“A year,” he replied. His calm voice belied the feeling he had about his situation. He resented the Order for uprooting him, forcing him out on a wild goose chase after a rogue. He was never even told why he was sent out in the first place; it seemed unlikely that Marcus was a criminal of some kind. He was always known as the Order’s Golden-Boy.

“It’s been an entire human year, sir, since I was-” he choked on unfamiliar emotions, “since I left home.” He thought back. How badly he wanted to fly back home! He longed to relax with the others of his kind and sleep nestled against the warm bodies of those beside him.

“Well, you will be home again soon, Ephraim,” said the Conductor unconvincingly, “the Order and I want you to watch Marcus Umberto, Number seventy-three. Do not approach him directly if possible; stay in the shadows! We need you to watch and assess the situation. You will need to report back to me on his activity, so that the Order can act accordingly.”

Ephraim’s face did not display the anger that bubbled behind it. So, he thought bitterly, I am still on this on this wild goose-chase then. And the Order still won’t tell me why... He bowed and made sure his cold gaze was aimed at the Conductor’s feet.

“As the Order wishes, Conductor,” the Conductor nodded his approval and rose into the air. He looked down at Ephraim and suddenly reached out to touch his face; sympathy shone briefly in his eyes. Ephraim twitched uncomfortably at the touch of the Conductor’s fingers against his skin. He had grown used to humans keeping their distance from him and after a year without contact, he had forgotten what another’s skin felt like.

“You will come home soon. As once as Marcus is dealt with, you will be allowed entry back. You have my word,” and with that he flew higher and disappeared. Ephraim relaxed. He had not realized how tense his muscles had been throughout the meeting. He lingered for a while in the Nothing wanting to absorb the silence into the very marrow of his bones before heading back into the chaos of the humans’ world. Finally, and with a certain degree of sadness, he closed his eyes and hung his head. Slowly Ephraim became aware of his surroundings shifting about him. A rushing sound reached his ears and he felt his feathers being ruffled by a cold wind. He flung back his wings and arms and opened his eyes to find himself standing on the edge of a stone wall, on a bridge, in a world where he did not belong.