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April 21, 2009


Angel or demon?

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Stacy: That Is The Question


I turned at the voice, blood dripping from my sword. The house around me was finally silent.

“Raphael,” I said, voice rusty with disuse.

His face wore an odd look, as if he had never before beheld me. A strange sound came from my throat. I realized it was a laugh.

“I am as I ever was, brother,” I said.

Raphael looked round, at the dead and dying, some quite young this time. All guilty. All.

“Peace, Michael. Lay down your sword and come home.”

I laughed again. It seemed it got easier with practice.

“I have no home.”

(Sequel to Warrior)

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