“Where do these come from?” he
asked but Sahel was already out of sight.
Azazel hurried behind him promising to
himself that he would have to come back to this place. He could live
here, it would be much better than the class they had at the
sanctuary. The teacher was great but they were a bit lacking
diversity. Most of the things they were taught here had to deal with
Watchers and safety and on how to control your powers so that nobody
noticed that you were a Nephil. He had spend years of his life in a
cage for being a Nephil, surrounded by Watchers, he knew enough about
them, he knew more than he wanted to already. But this place was like
a paradise, everything he always wanted to know was here and even
things he had never though existed. That would give him much to think
about. Sahel pushed on a shelf and a hidden door opened. Azazel
followed him in the room.
The place smelled like magick. It
smelled like Magick so much that Azazel felt the need to cover his
nose afraid that the Magick would enter with oxygen as he breathed.
“What is this place?” he asked.
“The place where everything began”
Sahel answered.
“You said this about the school too”,
Azazel answered looking around. There were candles run out on the
ground and a pentagram on the floor. It must have been normally
hidden under a carpet as the mark of the clay was a bit erase at some
places and a carpet was rolled on the side. There was a bottle on the
ground with viscous liquid fallen out. Whoever had drink it up had
had to leave precipitately.
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