The brightly glowing star that hovered over New Celest spread its glorious light down onto the city walls and buildings, illuminating even in the confines of the new-moon night. The vestiage of the Shakiniel worshippers poured out onto the Pool of Stars below, their songs of praise causing the air to be filled with a sweet and contemplative melody. Meleris, as usual, was of no mind to Metea, who sat on the edge of the Pool of Stars beside him. I've not heard him talk in quite a while, actually, she recalled with a bit of worry, but Meleris was nortorious for keeping his thoughts to himself. She shrugged her small shoulders, as her mane of dark autumn hair shifted down to drip lazily, too, into the pool. The day's passing had been a long one, with little more than more battles with Magnagoran heretics. Light be merciful, I simply wish they'd accept the Light, so we may be done with this endless war, she thought sadly as she turned her attention to the silence that was unusual, even for this time of night. A lone lark rang its voice, lonely and eerie, across the sky above as not even a single albatross added its own ear-shrieking song. Metea turned her attention to the singing from the terrace that swarm down from a flight of stairs, closing her eyes to dip herself into its comforting words.

"Holy, holy bright Elohora. Holy, holy praise to thee. Holy, holy bright Shakiniel. Cherished beauty of Celestia." The song was heart breaking, but still beautiful. I really wish the Prince would order the bards to create some new hymns. These old ones are heart wrenchingly depressing. She knew she was asking for the impossible. Prince Raikogen would have leapt at the opportunity, but this new Prince, Neraka, was finding himself knee deep in politics and war-hungry animals that they called Magnagorans. A presence flittered about Metea's left hand, and she looked down to see a silver-furred cat patting her hand for some attention. She couldn't help but smile at the small beast, letting the cat have its way while it purred contently beneath her moving hand.

"At least you will not sing a tearful song, little creature," she said quietly, only receiving a blink from the cat before it decided her lap would be a more suitable place than the hard stone fountain edge. It curled up, circling twice like a dog, before it began to nap blissfully beneath the care of Metea. She shook her head at the cat's contented purrs, wondering how she had let herself go from a spiritual woman of Shakiniel and Elohora to a cat's nurse. Another presence found itself at her side, but she didn't need to look up from her working the cat's ears with a loving massage to know who or what it was. The archangel looked down at the cat and smiled, putting a hand in the middle of Metea's back. Is all well, my dear? the archangel asked, her voice comforting and loving at the same time. Metea was thankful for the archangel's presence, had quietly hoped that she would come to pay a visit. Aye, she replied, just tired and over worked as usual. The archangel made a tutting noise at Metea's response, causing the cat to open its eyes and look at the archangel with a glare, as if to say, "How dare you wake me!" Its nap obviously ruined, the cat stretched and yawn before jumping from the lap it had claimed and off into a hedge of nearby bushes. She watched it go, with the archangel shaking its head with another tut soon to follow. Those creatures are about as ill-tempered as a child, it said in Metea's mind, who was only too glad to agree.

The two of them sat there for awhile, Metea happy to have another presence nearby, even if they both did sit in silence. The hymns from the Shakiniel vestment soon quieted themselves, the worshippers having long since gone to sleep for the night. Overhead, night had claimed the basin with as little effort as stretching a shadow. Not a single star glowed in the night sky, save for the star that hovered over New Celest as a beacon of light to its citizens and as a warning to its enemies. She remembered first seeing the star of New Celest, remembered how awed she had been as she used to stare at it for hours upon hours as a child. Though, painful memories had followed previously, chasing her from Serenwilde Forest and from her ancestry. She grimaced at the resurgance of the past, quickly tucking it away messily into the back of her mind with as much mental force as she could muster. You will have to eventually deal with that pain, beloved, came the soothing voice of the archangel. I know, she said, but she knew now was not the time and the time was no where near in the future either. Her elven ears and her slanted eyes that were doe-like and quiet held the only visual representations that she was of the elfen race. Anything else, she showed only as a mere human, save for her accent, which could only mirror who and what she hailed from.

The Pool of Stars stirred for a moment, frothing in a sea of bubbles, before Neraka was thrown gracelessly from its depths and onto the hard brick ground. He blinked for a moment, picked himself up, and coughed in embarrassment at being seen in such a humiliating pose. Metea hid a grin carefully, though the archangel was not so humble as it gazed at him with an amused smile.

"Yes, well, good evening," he said nonchalantly, giving her a nod as he made his way up the terrace stairs and out of sight.

What an odd creature, the archangel noted observantly, watching the terrace Neraka had disappeared up with a look of contemplation. You get used to him, Metea said as she mentally agreed her friend as she stood up. I suppose we should go make sure all is well in Celestia, she noted as she turned and looked at the Pool of Stars, knowing full well that she really disliked traveling via its waters. The thought made her stomach swim, even after all these years. That is a lovely idea, came the reply as the archangel simply vanished in an array of light. With a mental groan and a swift kick to herself for being silly, she put her hands together before touching the lip of the fountain. It only took a moment to visualize the heavenly plane of Celestia, and with that, Metea vanished without a trace.

Off in the nearby hedges, a silver cat sat attentively, a white light glowing from its pale and intelligent eyes. Its tail swished back and forth, as it had done for the entire time Metea and her archangel companion had sat quietly by the Pool of Stars. Doman passed by only moments later, and the cat watched him with something kin to amusement in its eyes. Even after he disappeared, the silver cat stayed within the hedges and continued watching, as if it were waiting for the night to shatter itself upon the blade of rightous dawn.

Edited: Mispelled word that Microsoft failed to catch.