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... he marble underfoot holding the faint warmth of morning light spilling through the tall crystal insets.

Kivas’s stride was unhurried, Samael trailing half a pace behind with her usual folded-winged stance.

The doors ahead stood open, and the faint scent of burnt resin and archival paper drifted out—a mix that always meant Karasu business.

And as expected of the inky presence, Azulus was there.

She stood just inside the threshold, her small, mouse-eared silhouette ...

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All that remained was a millennium passed in vain, and a grave disease.

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