"Hey, Michael, have you looked at the sun today?"
"Yeah, I've seen it, What about it?" Michael asked, barely interested as he struggles with his wings on the leather couch. It was impossibly hot for some unknown reason, and it had been a week since they had moved in. Every single day, Ray had went and looked out the window, looking for something that he couldn't seem to find. Michael didn't really care; so long as he wasn't found by Azka, he was fine with anything. He struggled with his wings again, trying to make a dip in the leather couch that just wouldn't happen, his wings feeling achy and restricted against the material. Eventually he gives up, rolling over onto his stomach and lifting a magazine off the shelf and flicking through it quickly as he actively talks with Ray. "Is there something wrong with the thing that gives us our ever-so-precious sunlight?"
Ray blinks, turning to look over his shoulder at Michael, his gaze flickering back to the sun every so often. The sun was growing brighter every single day and burned the Demon's eyes, but Ray still looked, trying to figure out if anything was wrong. Michael couldn't really bring himself to care anymore - would Azka really wander into a MineCraftian city looking for one of his best soldiers? Probably not - Michael couldn't see the being wandering into a city haphazardly looking for him. "No, it's just that the sun - it's grown bigger. Like, way bigger. It looks like it's consuming half the sky, literally."
At that, Michael shoots off his seat and throwing himself at the window, squinting at the bright sunlight and trying to make sense of it. He swallows, realizing what it is, and he twists around as he unhooks the bearskin from his neck, shoving a bunch of his stuff into the centre and threw it over his shoulder in a bundle, demanding that Ray do the same. Ray stared at him, tilting his head in confusion even as Michael spread his great now-ashen wings, about to throw himself out the window and soar into the sky. "Ray! C'mon, we need to go! Now!"
Ray blinks, sliding off his hoodie and shoving a mass of things into it the same way Michael had, and spread his leathery wings as well. "Are we really going to ditch this apartment for something that probably doesn't mean anything? It might as well be something that happens all the time for the MineCraftians - I mean, they have new moons and red moons and shit, I don't think that this really is anything different at all." Ray was yanked by his arm towards the window, and he lets out an ungraceful squawk as he continues to speak. "Michael! You aren't telling me anything! You'd better explain this to me, Michael! What the hell are you-"
"That's not the sun!" Michael yells as he tugs Ray into the sky. There wasn't any time to explain - he just had to hope that Ray would listen and follow through - they can't do anything anymore, this is the only option - to run away and hope that they won't be found. Thankfully, Ray seemed to understand immediately after Michael screamed his second sentence through the winds that tore his voice away from his throat as they surged through the air flying in the opposite direction of the thing eating the sky with tongues of red and yellow fire. "That's Azka!"
"Oh, Notch," Ray mumbled. "C'mon, Michael! We're heading to Zenith's country! It's the only place where we can flee the light - c'mon, Michael, this way!" Ray immediately dove, apparently seeing something or someone that Michael could not. "There's someone chasing us - one of the Guards of Azka's - the one that was going up when your friend told you to go! We need to be careful, Michael, I'm not a citizen of Zenith's anymore!"
"Alright, which direction!?" Michael yelled, not even going to try and argue. Common sense told him that the Kingdom of the Dark would never allow the king of the Kingdom of the Light through - not even on peaceful business. That was only done on the border, and even then it usually only ended up in blood splattering over the Overworld, who laid in peaceful obliviousness about the wars going on above them. Dead Demons and Angels would litter the ground, but as soon as they died their identification of a Demon or Angel would simply melt away. "Ray, think!"
"Towards the moon!" Ray yelled, and Michael twisted round to see who was following them. The actual sun was sinking into the ground of the horizon, turning everything coal-black against a bright orange backdrop, though the light never changed, instead sparking brighter. A speck was immediately to the front of it - Azka - and when the speck got closer and started to form a shape, Michael let out a scream and yelled at Ray to fly faster. It was a certain man with a Rubik's Cube hoodie.
"Skit's coming!" Michael screeched, to which Ray could only reply with a 'fly faster'. Their flying pattern grew erratic - they looped around each other, rising and falling with the wind and diving into all the clouds they could find in the hope of confusing Skit into being unable to follow them. All hopes were dashed by the time an arrow surged over Michael's head, shot by Skit in an effort to stop them both in their tracks. "What does the entrance look like? I'll meet you there!"
"It's a deep hole in the ground, you can't miss it!" Ray yelled, and immediately the Demon veered left. Without any hesitation, Michael turned a sharp right. Azka followed him, and hopefully Skit wouldn't be - if they split, there was a chance that the two would split as well. He was right - when he looked back, he noticed that Skit was nowhere to be seen. He only sees a light shining brightly; blinded, he falls before he regains his vision and his randomly flapping wings were shoved back under control.
Eventually, he finds a deep hole in the ground and immediately dove into it, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Skit aim at him and fire; he ducks, and it flies over his head. Unfortunately, he finds another lodge itself into his shoulder and he falls from the sudden pain. He hears a roar of anger, presumably from Azka, and he breathes unevenly before he raises a hand to check the walls. It was pitch-black, and he couldn't see anything. He goes down further, seeing as how that was the only direction to go, and he was suddenly snatched out of the air and a hand was placed over his mouth. He jolts in shock.
"Shut up," Ray mutters directly into his ear. "We're trying not to be caught, remember? Just in case you don't, we are essentially trespassing and we might as well be thrown directly into prison, so don't you dare talk. I can get through easily enough, but you're gonna need a bit more thinking-through."
He hears the rustle of wings - two pairs of wings. "Is that yours?" Michael whispers, and he hears a pause before he hears a 'no, stop' from Ray, a panicked sound that sounded so much more further away, and he blinks, trying to find his way through the darkness. He suddenly feels a large weight on the back of his head and he falls forward, only to be caught by a pair of arms. "R-Ray?"
"Shut the hell up," says a voice, not sounding like Ray's at all. It was deeper, and Michael immediately tried to wrestle out, but his vision, though dark, was fuzzy, and he could barely move his limbs. "Jordan, did you not whack him over the head hard enough? He's still conscious." Silence, followed by another voice talking, interrupted by the person that was carrying him. From the direction his hair was being blown, he supposed that they were still moving downwards. "No, he's not moving, he seems to be unable to."
"Ray?" Michael asks, terrified. He feels himself shift in the stranger's arms, followed by a deep sigh and a 'why am I doing 'dis'. He blinks, his vision clearing and he could actually see again. "Ray?" he repeats, struggling with a stronger vigor, and the man holding him cursed. He feels something slam on the back of his head, and he nearly blacks out.
"I'm sorry, Michael," he hears Ray say softly. "I really am."
When Michael wakes up again, he finds himself in a dim cell with no windows. The floor and walls were all rock and very hard, and when Michael raises a hand he finds a bandage wrapped around his head. He frowns, trying to regain his memories. And he remembers what had happened when he hears a lone voice call out towards him from outside the bars. He looks up at the sound of his name.
"Michael," Ray asks, and Michael notices how Ray looked curled up in a corner, watching him as he attempted to clear his vision. The bars separated them, just like how it was back in the Aether when they talked. Now, he felt nothing but anger towards Ray, who crawled up to the bars with a look in his eyes that begged for forgiveness. Michael huffed, twisting round and pointedly ignored him. "Michael, I'm sorry."
Michael turns, his eyes burning with rage, and Ray backs up. Michael realizes how much his throat hurts due to dryness when he attempts to speak. "Why?" he asks, his tongue dry as sandpaper, but still he grated out the words past it, his voice rising in volume though it burned his throat. "Why?" he repeated. "We... were friends. Were." Ray blinked, reaching a hand through the bars, trying to grasp Michael's, who snatched his away. "No... no homo, remember?"
"Michael, do you remember when you were bound by the rules from Azka?" Ray asks softly, and Michael nods slowly. Ray clears his throat, looking to the side swiftly before looking back. "Just like that, I'm bound to the rules from Zenith, just as much as you were bound to the ones of Azka. You need to know that, Michael. I'm sorry."
"You sound like a broken record," Michael spits. "'I'm sorry'. 'I'm sorry'. Does it mean anything to you in the end at all?" he snarls, mimicking Ray's voice terribly. "We were friends, Ray. We used to be better friends. Ant was right - you're a whole lot of filthy liars. I should have trusted him from the beginning."
Michael's glare withers when Ray looks at him with sad eyes, holding out a bottle of water in offering. Michael takes it from him, gulping as much of the liquid down as he could whilst still keeping an eye on the Demon. Ray lets out a sigh when Michael finishes and flings the bottle away from himself, taking out a flower that looked like a rose with ripped edges.
Michael frowned. He had been thinking too much of Azka, he had forgotten all about the dangers everything else could bring. Ant's words echoed in his ears - "I hope you know what you're doing", and his heart swells with guilt. He didn't know what he was doing - he was just wandering around aimlessly following someone on a relationship built on very shaky trust. And as far as he was concerned, that trust was broken.
"We never really finished the lesson on flowers, but this is the best I've got," Ray says, pushing the flower through the bars and letting it fall. "I would give one to you, but..." Ray falls silent, pricking his ears, listening to something that Michael couldn't hear. "I'm sorry, Michael, but I need to go."
Michael stares at the flower. It looked like a rose, but it had no thorns at all - at least, none that Michael could see. The petals were seemingly ripped and torn at the edges, almost, but by the amount of care he knew Ray could give, this was its normal status. It was yellow, but each petal were accompanied with a strange red that only lined the edges of each one.. He takes it, lifting it up as Ray stands up to leave.
"I'll get you out, Michael," Ray says softly. "I will."
A/N) Huzzah! The next chapter will be Ray's POV... not that Michael could really do anything, being stuck in jail. :v
I'm not the best at writing chapters, so everything is probably rushed as all hell vnv I'm so sorry for that.