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Prologue

B aliel felt the weight of a world not his own before he had eyes with which to see. It wrapped itself around him, smothering his light. The world was dim. Night . He rolled his shoulders experimentally. The skin pulled too tight. Stretching, tearing. The very fibres of the flesh coming undone before his magic sewed it back together over the wings of his shoulder blades. Muscle and tendon too, all tore and healed in moments.

The tarnished glass of a mirror captured an image that Baliel did not recognize. Turning, he surveyed the fragile shell that housed him.

He was still beautiful, his essence carving the bones to better suit his needs. But as it did, he corrupted it.

Even as he watched, the violent blue of his eyes burned the sockets black.

I suppose this will have to do , he thought, curling fingers that were lengthened by his overwhelming essence. The skin over his knuckles split and his lip curled in distaste. An Elysian like him rarely fitted comfortably inside a human shell. With the possible exception of those born with Elysian blood in their veins. At a stretch, even Kairos blood would do.

After all, the humans called them all demons just the same.

Cool air slid along his naked limbs as he stepped onto the street and turned toward the stone church built into the mountainside. He towered head and shoulders above the humans that skittered like rats in the shadows.

Flurries of frozen white danced around him.

Snow , his memory supplied.

He tested the word. Only the ashen scratch at the edges hinted at the breakdown of the vocal cords. This body would not last.

Baliel flicked his fingers, dispelling the flurry, and his magic razed the street. His essence flared, striking the turbulent clouds with a lick of cerulean flame. All that remained of the terraced street were charcoal sticks jutting into the sky like a blackened, burned forest.

Running his eyes over the carnage, Baliel frowned.

He would need to be more careful, this shell barely contained him as it was.