The group stepped out into the streets of Barcelona. The air was thick with the smell of rot and damp wood, and the narrow alleys overflowed with beggars and waste. They walked north until the ruined city gave way to the outer walls and the main gate.

  Beyond the walls, the open road awaited—lined with caravans and traders preparing their goods for journeys across the kingdoms. A merchant stood beside a small wagon, tightening the harness on two horses. When he saw Anpiel, he waved cheerfully.

  “It’s ready, sir,” the man said as the angel handed him a coin. The merchant crossed himself and wished them God’s protection before leaving.

  The caravan was modest but sturdy, pulled by two horses—one brown, one white. Inside were loaves of bread, dried fish, mutton, cheese, and spices neatly packed for the road.

  (Image created with Gemini AI for illustrative purposes only.)

  Anpiel offered to drive while the goddesses rested in the wagon. Ana and Epona were already bickering again, and Tania seemed lost in her own thoughts, uninterested in joining them. So Rodrigo climbed up beside the angel to keep him company.

  “They never give you a moment’s peace, do they, sir Rodrigo?” asked Anpiel with a grin.

  “No, not really. Hard to believe they’re actual goddesses—they argue like teenagers. And please, call me Rodrigo.”

  “Very well—Anpiel, at your service!” said the angel cheerfully, adjusting the reins.

  “So, Anpiel… what exactly do you do? Ana and Tania haven’t told me much about angels.”

  “Of course,” the malak began, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “We malakim—or angels, as you call us—are intermediaries between Lel and the gods who dwell on Earth. You might say we’re their supervisors. We evaluate the work of the grigori, and their privileges depend on those reports.”

  “Are there warrior angels too?” Rodrigo asked, curious.

  “Yes, my lord. Any malak can lead human armies or even start wars. Our power doesn’t match that of the gods, but we can command the elements as well.”

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  “Do you have an element?”

  “Wind,” Anpiel replied with a small smile. “I can communicate with birds.”

  He lifted his hand, and several swallows appeared overhead, circling before landing gently along the wagon’s edge.

  “And that’s useful in battle?” Rodrigo asked, fascinated. “I’ve seen those women destroy mountains.”

  “It depends on how one uses their gifts, sir Rodrigo,” said the angel. “It’s not about summoning birds to fight—but about channeling their energy. The essence of flight, speed, instinct.”

  He pointed toward the wagon where Epona sat, her arms crossed in irritation.

  “That one—the horse goddess—does something similar. She draws energy from equines to enhance herself. Difficult to explain, but soon enough you’ll see it with your own eyes.”

  “I see… not really,” Rodrigo admitted with a shrug.

  Anpiel chuckled. “In any case, don’t underestimate us malakim. The goddesses you travel with are indeed extraordinary—but there have been angels who far surpassed beings like them. Even nefilim, or simple mortals, have risen high enough to threaten the gods through sheer training and persistence.”

  “I had no idea,” Rodrigo said, surprised.

  “One of the supreme commanders of El’s greatest enemy was a malak,” the angel continued. “His power was so vast that not even the elohim could defeat him. He was the leader of the tannin.”

  “Tannin?” Rodrigo repeated.

  “Serpent gods,” said Anpiel. “Deities with serpentine abilities who wield the element of Death itself.”

  “They were the greatest rivals of our lord El and his elohim. When they were finally defeated, they were exiled from Lel—most sealed away in Sheol.”

  “Sheol?” Rodrigo asked. “I’m not familiar with all these terms.”

  “Don’t worry, my lord. Sheol is what you would call the underworld—or the abyss. That’s where the serpent gods, and their leader, were imprisoned. I’m sure you’ve heard of him… the malak Helel.”

  Rodrigo frowned. “No, I haven’t.”

  “Oh, right,” said the angel, glancing at him for the first time, a faint smile on his lips.

  “In your world, he’s better known by his Latin name.”

  He paused, the wind lifting his silver hair as the horses trotted forward.

  “You call him… Lucifer.”