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Heavy curtains drew back, revealing a blackened stage. Red light burned low from braziers - one set in each corner and a fifth against the far wall. Cut into the wood below, a menacing array of unnaturally glowing runes converged at the platform's centre. There, a tongue of flame hung in the air. It pulsed like a disembodied heart.

Footsteps, rapid against stone, cut through the dim. A slender figure in tailored black robes burst onto the stage, stopping abruptly with a curse. Her hood fell back, revealing a shock of neon pink hair and alabaster skin - both bright and visible despite the gloom, as if lit from within.

"Looks like we're late." A voice, sourceless, floated out from the darkness.

"I can see that!" The pink-haired woman snapped. A small length of black wood appeared in her pale hand. She gestured sharply toward the swelling flames, and a short series of arcane words tumbled from her mouth.

The fire contracted, crimson turning to a knot of orange and gold. "Knox!" The other voice was urgent. The robed woman snapped another word, this time flicking her wand over herself. Flames detonated in a wave of orange and gold, exploding out of the stage in an incandescent flash.

"Fools!" A deep booming laugh filled the dark, "Your interference has done nothing!" Gouts of orange-gold fire erupted from centre stage, silhouetting a imp-like being. Equine headed and cloven hooved, the creature's hands were clawed, and the wings behind it were covered in leaf-like feathers.

"That right?" Light, pure and white, rose from the side of the stage. The demonic chimera hissed, recoiling as the pillars of fire around it dimmed. "So you're _supposed_to be that small?" The robed woman stood where she had before, untouched. The light around her rose from the wand in her hand - its tip now a ball of brilliant white.

"You dare mock me!?" The demon roared, the flames whipping around it. The white light around the wizard revealed its skin to have a green cast. "It is my destiny to destroy this foul city!" The being's claws tensed, as it hissed a word in a foreign language. Masses of gold-orange flame caught in its palms. "I need nothing else!" It lashed out, bolts of fire flashing toward the pink-haired magician.

Knox dove away, the stage where she stood exploding. "You sure about that?" The woman taunted, rising to her feet. Another short incantation tumbled from her lips, as she snapped a gesture at the creature.

"Wha -" The amalgam convulsed in the air, hands snapping its snout. A scream of outraged pain tore out of its throat as streams of slick silver burst from its nostrils. Sputtering, the demon fell to the wood below, in a fit of coughs. The flames around it gutted to embers.

"Fish!?" It shrieked, staring down at its hands. Both were covered with the tiny silver creatures, flapping helplessly. The green creature made a disgusted sound, shaking its hands out and scattering them. "What kind of magic is - !?"

The magician snapped the incantation again, turning the amalgam's question into a sickly retching sound. More of the silver fish spewed forth, as it fell to its knees. "My sardine hex." She replied, pale face smug, "You like?"

"No I do not!" The demon shouted, surging to its feet. Golden fire leapt to its hands -

And fish tumbled out of its nose again. The flames gutted as it clutched its snout, crying as it fell to the stage again. "That fucking hurts!" Its voice sounded plaintive and several octaves higher.

Whimpering, it curled it curled into itself.

Sobs began to shake the tiny body.

"Hey."

The robed woman, now in front of the crying creature, knelt. Her voice was soft, as the light from her wand dimmed. "Come on now, don't cry."

"No!" The imp's voice was child-like. It sobbed, sniffling. "I - I'm supposed to - " it whimpered, choked, " - supposed to destroy this city - " the sobs got louder, " - but I got beat by fish!"

"...who told you that?" The woman asked, after a beat.

"T-the forest..." The little creature replied, between sobs, "I - it's my destiny, it said..."

The woman breathed a chuckle, before her wand flickered. A soft word later, and a small yellow flower appeared in her hand.

"You don't need to listen to it." The magician murmured gently.

The creature did not reply.

"You can decide your destiny for yourself." She prompted again, flower held out to it.

Slowly, the little green imp uncurled. It Its eyes - large and brown - looked up at the magician. "...who are you?"

"Vulpecula Knox," the magician's pale face - the half of it visible behind her shock of neon pink hair - broke into a gentle smile. "Who are you?"

"Naomi." The little creature replied, reaching a tentative hand toward Vulpecula's offered one. "...can I really have...that?" At the magician's nod, two of Naomi's clawed fingers closed around the flower's stem delicately.

* * *

Skin pale in the stark light of the room, a dark-haired figure reclined against a wall, eyes shut. Their arms were crossed over the flat chest of their black dress - a broad sleeved garment, tailored to their slender form. A black fox's tail peaked out from its back, curled loosely around one leg.

Black triangular vulpine ears twitched atop their head, at the din of applause filtering through the thin wall at their back. Slowly, their amber eyes opened, and a satisfied smile bloomed on their effeminate features. They flipped a hand through their shoulder-length hair.

That went well.

"Yukiiiiiii!" A small green creature burst through the heavy dark curtain separating this chamber from the stage outside. Its heavy feathered wings were curled behind its furred back, and the imp's gnarled bark-like claws were pressed to its equine nose. The hooves of its feet tapped rapidly as it ran to the darkly garbed figure.

"It hurts!" Naomi cried, plaintively, still clutching their nose.

With a soft chuckle, the fox-tailed man chuckled and bent at the knee, to come level with Naomi's brown eyes. A delicate hand, nails painted a clear lacquer, extended. "Alright, let me see it." Their voice was soft - the same as the one that had spoken with Knox on stage.

Whimpering, Naomi lowered their claws.

The heavy curtain Naomi had entered from was thrust aside. "Woo!" Vulpecula exclaimed, bursting into the into the room. She spun immediately toward the pair, jabbing the air with a fist. "We did it!" The pale woman beamed, flexing an arm, "Crimson won't know what hit her!"

The fox-eared man's gaze strayed from the small green creature in front of them, "Good work out there Knox." They affirmed, moving their hand to rest on Naomi's snout. A whispered word, then pale radiance began to shine from their palm - spreading gently over the imp's nose.

Naomi breathed a sigh of relief. The light faded and, as Yuki withdrew their hand, the imp's hands replaced it, rubbing its snout. "That still hurt..." It muttered, sullenly.

"You were good, though." The wizard replied, tone softer now as she approached. "We'll get you something after the competition's over."

Naomi beamed. "Sniper googles?"

"No." Vulpecula replied, impatience creeping in. "Supper, then some new plants for your room." Naomi's expression fell, "No weapons." Naomi pouted, as the wizard's pale hand found her back between her wings. "Come on, you need to put your clothes back on."

Naomi grumbled, crossing their arms. "...dun wanna."

"You like your dress, right?" When that got a grumble, the wizard continued, more firmly. "You know the guards won't keep letting it slide."

"Fiiiine." The imp allowed itself to be walked off, sullenly.

"I'll see you in our seats!" Yuki called, raising a hand in farewell.

* * *

The wordless melody of a woman's song rose in the darkness. Then, another - rising in an overlapping harmony from a different direction. A third voice joined them, then a fourth not long after - one from each cardinal direction.

The chorus grew, the voices drawing closer. A faint chant, hymn-like, began to filter into the melody. The words were strange, evoking a sense of triumph as they swelled, higher and higher.

The ceiling split. Brilliant blue sky bisected the darkness, sunlight pouring down over the audience.

Stronger than the others, a fifth voice filled the arena. In the centre of the sky rift, a figure hung, suspended on a pair of majestic wings. Gold fabric rippled out from her; a gown stirred by a phantom wind. Locks of red hair flowed in the same wind, fire-like. Gracefully, she began to descend. Her powerful soprano taking the lead, as the other four voices fell to harmony.

Crimson. Seated in the darkness of the theatre, Yuki's lacquered nails bit into the soft flesh of their hands.

Silence filled the now skylit chamber, as Crimson touched down. She fell to her knees, clasping hands prayer-like before her. Her lips moved, and a golden radiance built, stretching gracefully skyward as a pillar of light. From the audience, four like pillars sprung up - each centred on another fire-haired and winged woman, in similarly golden gowns. They now too knelt in prayer - forming a five-pointed star, with Crimson at the peak.

Cheers erupted as the lead angel rose, flashing a delicate gesture heavenward. An operatic and crystalline melody lifted from her, as bursts of golden light began to go off in the audience, timed in sympathy with the music. The awed gasps were quickly drowned as the other four angels joined in harmony. Crimson opened her arms wide. Swells of gold began to pour from her, washing gently out over the audience.

Abruptly, she froze.

The song stopped, the lights faded and she and the other angels turned their eyes skyward as one. A look of displeasure now on their collective features.

The silence stretched.

"...I see." Crimson sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat.

Gold flashed, fiery and incandescent. A comet of flames shot up from the stage where the angel had stood, vanishing into the rift above. From the four women in the audience, four more flashes in answer, and four more comets followed.

The rift closed behind them.

* * *

"Ahem!" Standing under a lone spotlight on stage, a diminutive man in formal blacks cleared his throat. His voice carried through the whole of the theatre, now dimly lit instead of a dark void. "Well that was quite a show, wasn't it ladies and gentlemen?!"

The cheer from the crowd was quieter than it had been when Crimson first took the stage.

A sheen of sweat appeared on the gnome's forehead, and a handkerchief appeared in his hand. "And, as you all know, every good show does come to an end!" He mopped his brow. "But before we announce the results of our competition, our esteemed panel of judges have asked," his voice grew strained, "me," another mop of his brow, "to remind everyone of the rules of this competition!"

As he spoke, he withdrew a plain leather-bound book from a satchel at his waist. The room was silent as the gnome rapidly paged through the text. "These rules," he explained, nerves biting into his voice, "have been the same since our first competition, when the city was founded!" The man's tone was becoming shriller.

"And," he held the open book aloft, "those rules indicate that anyone who does not finish the program they registered - allowing for some reasonable improvisation - is to be," the man gulped, "immediately disqualified!"

The room was silent.

Oh gods. Yuki did not stifle the disbelief on their face. He's talking about Crimson.

"Now that we're all clear on the rules." The gnome's perspiration was worsening, as he was joined briefly on stage by a younger man. A sealed envelope was exchanged. "It is time for us to announce the winners!"

The room was still silent.

I feel sorry for whoever -

"The Ladies in Black!"

- oh no.

Naomi and Knox were out of their seats, cheering. The small green imp took to the air and the pink-haired wizard darted up to the stage, leaving Yuki, looking paler than before, still seated. A smattering of polite applause began to pick up, as the dark-haired man stood stiffly and moved to follow. Knox was accepting a bouquet from the gnome.

This is not going to end well.

* * *

Carved into a wall of pale of stone, legions of winged men and women in regal armor wielded swords aflame. They fought scores of misshapen beings, adorned with forked tails and tongues, bat-like wings and bestial horns, but little else. The monsters' expressions were twisted in terror and hopelessness as they fled before the heavenly warriors, only to be cut down.

Not for the first time, Yuki - black dress now hidden under a white shroud - noted that the depiction was shockingly gruesome in its detail. Bronze details decorated the hem and edges of the cloth, simultaneously reminiscent of fire and angel feathers.

The half-fox's attention, however, was on a hulking figure seated cross-legged before that wall. A brown furred bovine muzzle peaked out from beneath a hood of cloth identical to their own. It was, however, wrapped around a much, much, larger body. Horns emerged from either side of his head, polished to shine in the midday sun, but the rest of his face was obscured.

"...so I got out the back." Yuki concluded, voice soft. Within the shroud's hood, the shadows were unnaturally thick. "After the crowd started to riot."

The bullman nodded minutely. His voice, a rumble so deep Yuki could feel it in their bones, was slow and unhurried. "...was anyone hurt?" The man's bovine muzzle tilted up minutely, the new angle revealing his brown eyes, kind and gentle, to the afternoon sunlight.

Yuki's own gold eyes slipped away from the man's gaze, "...probably." They shook their head, "I wasn't able to get a good look at things, but families and the elderly were in attendance." The half-fox did not raise their gaze from the ground, posture betraying discomfort.

Ponderously, the bovine rose. Even seated, he was near eye-level with Yuki. Now that he stood, he towered over the shrouded man - who had to crane their neck up to see their face. A furred hand, large enough to crush their head, came to rest on the half-fox's shoulder. "I will go look into it." With a gentle nudge, he moved them aside, as if they weighted nothing.

"Wait!" Yuki's hand snapped to the bull's cloak, "Do you have any idea why she left?"

The bovine turned, expression sympathetic. Gently, he moved a hand - really just the tips of his fingers - to grasp Yuki's wrist. He shook his head, before guiding the half-fox's pale grasp away. Footsteps heavy, hooves striking the immaculately pale pavement below, he began to stomp off - leaving the other robed figure alone before the ornate, violent, carving behind them.

"...a pleasure as always," the dark-haired man murmured, "Thornmane."

* * *

Depictions of angels filled stain-glass panels, from which bright afternoon light poured. Unlike the washed-out brutality of the carving, these fiery and golden, glorious and triumphant. Below, rows of wooden pews filled the pale stone space. Most were empty, with only a handful of parishioners scattered throughout. Instead, small crowds were clustered around a handful of white shrouded figures near the edges of the chamber - where alcoves filled with scrolls lined the walls.

Word spreads fast, Yuki reflected, steps silent as they passed through the massive stone doors, thrown open wide. Their eyes quickly passed over the clusters, detecting anxiety from faithful and priest alike - though the priests were trying to mask it with soft words.

In the centre of the chamber was an ostentatious chalice of gold, inscribed with precious stones and holy sigils, more than half as tall as the average man. Beside it was a winged figure. Bare-chested, powerful muscles that covered his body, and strands of golden hair hung past his shoulders. Overlarge swords, sheathed in gold, dangled from a delicate chain around his waist. Arms crossed over his chest - a stance that caused his already thick muscles to bulge further - the angel's expression was foreboding.

It was toward this man that Yuki's steps carried them.

"Sister Yukio." The man's tone was neutral, blue eyes cold. He had not so much as twitched as the hooded figure closed the distance.

The shadows within the hood faded as Yuki drew the white cloth back. They offered a smile; warm, but distant. "Brother Aurum." Yuki replied, falling into a polite and practiced curtsy.

"Have you come to make an offering?" The angel stared impassively out into the church, tone practiced and formal.

Instead of answering, the half-fox produced a leather bag. It bulged, heavy with coin, as they raised to the angel's eye level. There was the briefest flash of emotion across his handsome face, as Aurum's eyes tracked the pouch.

Yukio felt a flash of satisfaction. They were careful not to let it show.

Aurum inclined his head, motioning toward the chalice. His stance - arms crossed - had not changed, despite the brief crack in his composure. The angel's regard quickly returned to the front of the church.

Yukio took the last few steps to the font. Within, a pile of precious metals - jewellery and coins- along with a scattering of gems shone with a faint gold radiance.

"...terrible shame about Crimson," Yukio murmured, maneuvering their arm over the bowl, "forfeiting in the middle of the talent show."

Aurum did not react.

"Do you know what happened?" The half-fox continued, moving - slowly as possible - to bring their free hand to the pouch and lay their lacquered nails against the band hold it closed.

"...that is none of your concern." The response was whispered, but Yukio's vulpine ears picked it up. His voice was tight.

With only the slightest tug, the string came loose. A deft adjustment of the hand holding the pouch and a firm grip on the drawstring kept the contents from spilling out.

"I could help." Yukio slipped honey into their tone.

"That will not be necessary." Annoyance was creeping into the angel's tone. Yukio could almost hear the muscles in his neck tightening.

"Well," the half-fox's voice softened, "will you at least tell Crimson about this?" A slight flick of their wrist caused the coins in the pouch to jingle.

"..."

After the silence stretched several beats. Yukio sighed inwardly.

So much for the easy way.

"Such a shame about Crimson!" Yukio exclaimed, retreating from the font in a flash of white and black motion. Deftly, they tightened the drawstring the coin purse and hid it within the broad sleeve of their dress. With a practiced movement, the shroud of the Sky Father slipped from around their shoulders - returning them to the dark outfit they'd worn on stage, at the end of the competition.

Aurum's expression was a thunderhead - ominous, but contained. The the man's muscles bulged with tension and his white feathered wings showed ruffling. Against his arms, his hands clenched on air.

Your fault, handsome. Yukio dismissed him.

"To forfeit in the middle of a competition!" The half-fox's gaze slipped skyward, faintly swooning. They made the holy sign of the Sky Father in an exaggerated motion, "Such dedication! Such goodness! And such undeniable talent!" Yukio gasped, grasping their heart, holding back feigned tears.

"Well!" An expansive gesture, as the half-fox spun to the crowds of parishioners, meeting a host of curious gazes. "Let it never be said that I, Yukio Mitsumune, would take advantage of the selflessness of such a great woman!" They spun back toward the font, "No, I shall offer all of my portion of the prize to our great Sky Father, as a token to honour Crimson's sterling example!" Steps swift, they returned to the chalice, undid the pouch, and upended it in a smooth motion.

Golden light burst forth from the font as the coins struck the pile of treasure within. The faintest breath of white energy rose from Yukio's skin, as the radiance swept outward - breaking over and sweeping around them to fill the space. Gentle sighs of pleasure followed where it touched - pulled from the throats of the parishioners and attendants both.

When it faded, Yukio turned to face Aurum. The large angel's face was upturned, expression blissful. He sighed again, before offering a relieved smile.

"Thank you for your donation." The angel bowed slightly, "Sky Father is grateful." A murmur rose from those assembled, as the attendants and parishioners - recovering from the wave of ecstasy still - echoed the words by rote.

Pathetic. Yukio hid their contempt behind a smile of honey. They curtsied again to the angelic guard, "In Heaven's Name." They intoned, receiving a nod in reply. Smoothly, they collected their bronze detailed shroud from the polished stone floor and wrapped it around their shoulders in a practiced motion.

They departed the chapel, steps silent.