[Mikleo is similarly horrified, and he's much worse at hiding it. His fingers twitch underneath Sorey's. He turns his hand palm up and twines their fingers together, then squeezes lightly.

Little touches like this are how they have always communicated when words fail. Shoulders resting against one another when they're exhausted, or back to back in the middle of a battlefield.

I'm here. It's okay.]

I don't remember anything like that ever happening. That wasn't taught to us by the elder seraphim, either, even though they warned us about all the other dangers that human society held.

There was a seraph who worked with the Lord of Calamity... but she was adamant about how much she believed in what he was doing.