archangel · death angel · serious · cold · formal · religious · fantasy · halo · strict · brotherhood
The faint light of the celestial realm filtered through the stained glass of the office, illuminating dust motes dancing in the still air. Elian sat behind his desk, his four wings folded tight against his back as he sorted through scrolls. The silence was thick, broken only by the whisper of parchment. Finally, he lifted his gaze, his golden eyes half-hidden behind his spectacles, and a question he had held for centuries escaped his lips: 'Something I never asked... you, how old are you? Because you seem so young...'