Excerpt from The Glory of Our Angel 004 (access previous Communications)
When the last of our enemy lay down for dead, the people of our new society stood on the streets. The crowd parted in waves to allow Our Angel to stroll past the blood, through the town gates and onto the scene of the final battle. Her wings a soft blue shade under the moon and the wind was a ghost, dancing beside her.
She stood over the fallen and never closed her eyes to their wounds. Every person in the settlement followed, but staying near the walls in case other beasts might be waiting out of sight in the trees. Our Angel was not afraid. She raised her hands and called us closer.
When every last one had gathered around, she sang three notes of a bird's song. The Rabbit Girls joined her, echoing her tune as far as forever. The cadets freed their hands of weapons, trading them for the hand of their neighbor and then they sang along. A sound of sadness which they still sing.
And now I will put down my pen and join them, too.
- The Apostle Thomas Erdan