"I'm telling her." Raoun said to Naia, his voice stern. He was fed up with whatever game she was playing. This was just another rescue until this whole 'she's protected' bullshit had happened.
Raoun, no-!
Before she had finished her words, Raoun's eyes re-lit, and the slim bathrobe the healers had given him began to burn off in bronze flame. Wings, actual, real, metal wings sprouted from his back, tearing his skin, through which he bled gold. Under the robe, impossibly, shining mail adorned him, and a breastplate and pauldron to match them. The daggers from before circled husband left hand, a bow was holstered on his back, nestled between his wings, and a spear with a flaming tip was in his right. A circlet lay under the hair on his brow, and when he opened his mouth to speak, it sounded like bells.
"We are the Guardian. Raoun is a Nephilim, son of an angel, and Naialei a Dol-Seraph, fallen from grace. Together we take this form, and we serve as protectors. Do not raise your anger to us, Meriana."
