Fragile Glass | Morpheus

Chapter 1

Astraea watched as her younger brother busied himself as normal. There were always books to re-shelve, cups to be put away and tea to be made when she was at Aziraphale's home. Currently, she wasn't at his home. She was in the bookshop beneath it. Though, it made very little difference, there were still books and cups strewn around in his flat. Aziraphale, for an angel, was a particularly messy person, yet he always seemed to know where to look to find things. Astraea's favourite headband had been missing for a year when she finally caved and asked Zira to find it for her. It was a talent of his, it always had been, to find things.

"There's been reports of serial murders happening in the Americas," Aziraphale's melodic voice came from behind a bookshelf that he was in the process of dusting, "Those blasted demons have corrupted another poor soul."

Astraea's hummed response was all that the angel needed to know that she was, in fact, not paying attention, "Astraea, are you listening to me?" Aziraphale had set the book he was holding, The Divine Comedy, down and turned to look at the older angel staring out of the window."I have a bad feeling about today, Zira. The stars show a drastic change occurring shortly."

Aziraphale's glasses slipped down his nose and he had to push them back up - he didn't really need glasses, he was an angel, but he liked the level of sophistication that came with wearing them - before responding to his elder sister.

"Astraea, my dear, I am sure that we have nothing to worry about. The stars often overexaggerate the actual scope of change." Aziraphale's pearly blue eyes met her own much darker eyes as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Despite the fact that Astraea was technically older by a fraction of a second, most people came to the conclusion that Aziraphale was a many few years older than her, and the duo acted like it. Aziraphale was the comforting brother and Astraea was the anxious sister, and nothing was going to change that. He brought her back into the moment and she made him think things through. She had not been with him the day he gave his flaming sword away to the humans.

Astraea only hummed again.

"What was that about a serial murderer?" Astraea's brain had finally processed what Aziraphale had first said. His brightened expression at the change in topic almost made her laugh. He would much rather talk about a serial murder than of the future. Though, she supposed that the apocalypse should be starting in the next 100 years or so - the stars showed that she would miss it.

"Oh, yes. There's a serial murderer in the Americas," Astraea could barely hear him talking, a whooshing noise clouded her ears, "Victims are young men," It was growing louder, she could feel her atoms shifting in place as if they were trying to get somewhere else, "Truly despicable what humanity is capable of," Aziraphale had turned around to face the bookshelf and couldn't see Astraea struggling to remain where she was, she was being dragged somewhere else and she had a feeling this was the bad thing the stars warned her about. "I mean, he removes there eyes!"

That was the last thing Astraea heard before she could no longer hold on anymore and disappeared from the bookshop in London, leaving behind a very confused angel in her wake, "Astraea? Hmmm, must have had to dash." Aziraphale would later come to regret this decision to not look for her in around 102 years when he was facing the apocalypse without her.

Instead, she was now located around 70 miles north of where the angel had previously been, in a basement in a mansion in east Sussex.

She could barely open her eyes, it hurt to open her eyes. Yet, she still looked around as best as she could. A group of humans stood around her in cloaks that could have easily been from a fantasy novel that her brother read. She was trapped in a binding circle. She could feel how weakened she was from it. To her left she saw another in a different binding circle, draped in a black robe and passed out. She was on the verge of passing out herself.