Justice for the Fallen

A myriad of emotions played on Sannarah’s face. From genuine surprise, through worrisome unease when her dark eyes darted to me, to tight-lipped determination when she quickly made up her mind.

“Milla, can you take our guest with you for some tea while I’ll deal with the customer?” she asked, getting up from the chair.

I frowned. It was clear from Sannarah’s anxiety what kind of business she was about to conduct here. I had no right to intrude on that, even though I wanted to grab her arm and plead not to do that. All my insides were twisting at the thought.

This poor misguided mortal was about to sell his soul.

“Sannarah,” I started, but her face became a cold and unfeeling mask. Gone was the young woman tending to my wound with pure kindness, sharing her troubled past in this unexpectedly precious moment we shared. Now there was a demon, and she meant business.

“You should go now.” She nodded to the old woman.

“Here, wear this.” Milla handed me a clean shirt. “Come, sir. A nice warm tea will get you back on your feet better than any rest.”

I clenched my jaw and put the garment on. Sannarah was not looking at me, tapping her fingers impatiently on the back of the chair, clearly waiting for me to go away. There was nothing I could say that would change her mind.

I got back to my feet and nodded to Milla. “I’m grateful for your hospitality, madame.”

“Come.” She turned on her heel, and I followed.

The older man waited in the hallway, nervously squeezing a crumpled flat hat. His clothes were simple but clean and well made. The pleasant aroma of food surrounded him like a tight coat. Sweat was beading on his balding head, even though the morning air was still chilly. When we appeared, he nodded curtly and looked away, hunching and trying to make himself as small as possible, which was a challenge with his tall frame and big belly.

We were already at the end of the hall when I heard Sannarah’s surprised voice.

“Mr Booth? What are you doing here?”

But I couldn’t linger anymore because Milla gave me a stern look that only women who spent years working with children can master. We entered a spacious room with a huge table to host around twenty people. It had been already set up, and although all the dishes were mismatched and chipped, it somehow looked inviting.

In the middle of the table stood two big pots with grey-tinted gruel. On smaller plates was an assortment of overripe fruits and stale-looking bread. Clearly, the food the orphanage could afford would be barely edible for regular people.

“Take a seat. You can help yourself to whatever you’d like to eat. I’ll be back in a moment with tea,” Milla said and disappeared in the side door before I could utter a word.

I sat reluctantly at the edge of the table, but I wasn’t going to touch the food. I didn’t need it to sustain me, and this place looked like it barely had enough to put anything on the table. Instead, I focused on listening to my surroundings.

My senses were enhanced, so I could hear and see far more than mortals. This place was falling apart, so the wooden walls didn’t block the sounds effectively. And Sannarah’s room wasn’t far from here.

I ignored the busy kitchen noises Milla was producing and the steady rhythm of sleeping children’s breaths nearby. And there, barely on the edge of my hearing, voices sounded.

“…people talk, Sanna,” the man said in a hushed, nervous tone. “And I have a problem I can’t deal with without your help.”

“My help doesn’t come cheap, Mr Booth,” Sannarah replied hesitantly. “You know what I mean, right?”

“I know,” the man confirmed, although his voice shook. “But I have no other choice. I told this bastard I would kill him if he laid a finger on my daughter! And now she’s pregnant! My poor, poor baby….”

“But what about your daughter? I thought she said she loves him?” Sannarah inquired.

The man’s reply was drowned out by the click of opening doors and a loud yawn. I turned at the newcomer, and my eyes went wide.

The boy was no older than ten, but he was the most bizarre child I’ve ever seen. He had no hair, and his fair skin was dotted with green scale patches. He stopped when he spotted me, tilted his head, and blinked a few times. His lids were closing vertically, not horizontally.

“Who are you?” he asked with fear and curiosity.

“I’m Melkyal,” I said in a friendly tone. No matter how weird he looked, he was just a kid, and I didn’t mean to startle him. “I’m Sannarah’s friend. What’s your name?”

“I’m Albie,” he replied cautiously and sat at the other end of the table, still eyeing me suspiciously. “You don’t look like Sanna’s friend.”

I raised a brow, intrigued. “Why?”

“You are too good-looking. And too clean.”

I snorted. Yes, I could imagine that. “Well, we are currently working together.”

“Working on what?” the child asked, filling his bowl with unappetising gruel.

Before I could reply, the door to the kitchen opened, and a beautiful girl came in carrying a tray with a teapot and cups. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. It was like light itself had illuminated the dark chamber. She could be no older than sixteen, her long fair hair was curling around her delicate frame, but her eyes were downcast, hidden behind long lashes. When she put the tray on the table and glanced at me, I noticed her eyes were yellow with narrow slits instead of normal pupils. Once I realised that, I spotted more abnormalities. Her fingers seemed a bit too long, and something on her head could be small horns, although it was hard to tell with hair styled neatly to cover them.

So, that was what Sannarah meant when she said it’s an orphanage for special children. Their auras were purely mortal─I could see the light flicker of their souls without a hint of demons’ darkness. But one of the parents must have been a Fallen.

Angels were strictly forbidden from having personal relations with humans, but demons were never bothered by such regulations. The offspring from such a union would not inherit any dark powers, but unfortunately, they always had some traits of their demonic parent. Those children were treated as cursed and shunned by most societies or often even killed. It was heartwarming to see they had found a haven like this.

The girl reprimanded Albie in a hushed tone, warning him not to be rude, but the boy only shrugged and stuffed his mouth with more gruel. More doors opened, and the room was slowly filling with children. They were all different ages but had one thing in common–physical signs of demonic ancestry that probably prevented them from joining the wider society.

They were all giving me curious but also wary glances. The pretty girl poured me tea, but her hands visibly shook as she moved the cup in my direction. She was afraid.

“Thank you,” I said with a soft smile, but she retreated to the kitchen hurriedly.

The room filled with children’s chatter, and there was no chance for me to eavesdrop on Sannarah’s conversation. Instead, I focused on observing the kids. Despite the altered appearance, they acted like any other humans–they joked and laughed and grumbled while rubbing their sleepy eyes.

The door to the kitchen opened again, and a delicious smell hit my nostrils. Milla was carrying a big plate laden with fluffy pancakes. The children perked up, and quite a few cheers escaped their lips.

“We are in luck today,” the old lady announced, placing the plate in the middle of the table. “Mr Booth visited us today and brought us these delicious pancakes. Now, stop pushing! Everyone will get one.” She swatted the grabbing hands with a kitchen towel and started distributing the rare delicacy. I couldn’t help but smile, seeing those often odd eyes filled with sudden joy and excitement.

The atmosphere in the dining room was so lively that I missed the footsteps in the hallway. Only when Sannarah entered did I realise her meeting was already over. What I didn’t expect, though, was to see the man following her. He looked less disgruntled as if some burden was lifted off his shoulders. And to my utter shock, his soul was still shining purely inside of him.

I raised my brows and tilted my head, looking at Sannarah. She only glared at me, clearly conveying wordlessly that I should mind my own business. But I couldn’t help it, as my curiosity peaked. The mortal came to her ready to sell his soul, yet she didn’t take it. The need to know the reason behind her not-so-demon-like behaviour was burning inside me.

Sannarah exchanged a few words with Milla, and the old woman led Mr Booth back to the hallway with a warm smile and kind words. Sannarah poured herself a cup of tea and took an unoccupied chair in the middle of the table. Most of the conversation died down, and the children curiously glanced from Sannarah to me and back.

“So…” Albie pushed away his empty bowl with a mischievous smirk. “Is he your boyfriend, Sanna?”

Sannarah scoffed, grabbed a plump, overripe piece of pear and threw it at the boy. But before it hit his face, a lizard-like tongue lashed out, catching it midair and dragging it into his mouth. The boy grinned triumphantly.

“He’s not my boyfriend, you goof. Also, aren’t you a bit too young for such comments?”

“I’m almost eleven!”

“Exactly. Anyway, we are just temporarily working together.” Sannarah shrugged, sipping her tea.

“He’s an angel,” said a small voice. I turned in the direction to find a girl no older than five. She had her chin propped on her hand, and her huge blue eyes looked at me in marvel as if I was some precious picture. She seemed almost normal until she smiled, showing her razor-sharp teeth.

“Shoot, I forgot you can see us too.” Sannarah sighed, but I barely noticed it because of the commotion that erupted at the table. Some children were visibly scared and looked for reassurance from their older peers, while others seemed more curious or even delighted by the discovery.

“You are working with an angel?”

“Why is he here?!”

“Did he come here to take us away?”

I raised my hands in a peaceful gesture, but I didn’t even know where to start explaining that I meant no harm. Sannarah seemed accustomed to such outbursts because she put down her cup and stood up, clapping her hands, to silence the raving children.

“Now, now, calm down. Golden Boy is here only because we have some things to do. I’m helping him with his investigation.” She turned to me and smiled mischievously. “Because I’m that kind.” She gently patted the head of a boy sitting next to her. “It has nothing to do with any of you. No one is in trouble, all right?”

“Are you sure?” the beautiful girl who poured my tea earlier asked, barely audible.

Sannarah gave her a stern look. “I’m sure.”

The girl was almost trembling with anxiety. Curious. Unsaid things hung in the air. I wondered what could cause such a strong reaction to my presence. Probably she was involved in some minor criminal activity.

“Does it mean you won’t have time to teach us anymore?” a boy sitting next to Albie asked, stroking his furry neck.

“I will get back to it when I’m done. I promise.”

“Fine,” the boy huffed. “But I bet I can snatch more purses than you on the market!”

Sannarah laughed. “You wish.”

“That’s what you teach them?” I asked before I could stop myself, bitterness tainting in my voice. “How to steal? They are kids, for the glory of the Mighty!”

A sudden silence fell over the table. Some children hunched over their plates, trying to make themselves invisible, while others glanced between Sannarah and me with unashamed curiosity.

She narrowed her eyes and turned to me. “I teach them how to survive in this city.”

“This is not the way. You make criminals out of them before they even get into adulthood. What kind of life do you expect they will have after that?”

“The only one they can,” she spat. “Stop being so high and mighty, Golden Boy. Look at them!” She gestured widely over the table. “Do you think they can get a job in a shop or on the market? Do you think society will reward them if they work hard enough?”

“I’m sure there is another way. If you are struggling, you can always turn to the church. They are always helping those in need.”

There was a brief silence, and I thought my words finally reached them, but then Sannarah laughed, and all the children joined her. I stared at them.

They laughed.

“Oh, that was so good,” Albie wheezed, wiping a stray tear. “Is he slow?”

“No, he’s just….” Sannarah rubbed her brow with an exasperated expression. “I don’t think he comes down to the city often.”

“Because luckily, there is no need for my intervention often,” I said, crossing my arms and frowning. For some reason, they took me for a fool. “I understand you might not like the Mighty’s church much for… reasons, but if you are desperate, you should seek help, not resort to breaking the law.”

“Do you think your precious church gives a damn about the likes of us?” Sannarah asked.

“Well, maybe not for you as you are… you know what. But the children are still humans. I’m sure Peace Keepers wouldn’t turn them away.”

“Oh, you are so preciously naïve.” Sannarah sighed and shook her head, spilling her dark hair over her shoulders. “We don’t have time to argue about it now. We need to go. Come, Golden Boy.” She left the room without waiting for my answer or looking at me twice.

“You’d better go, sir. She won’t wait for you,” Albie said with a grin. “And thanks for the laugh!”