Professor Layton and the Angel's Prophecy

The Angel's Prophecy

The first thing that struck Layton and his friends as they entered the cavernous Cathedral, was not its splendour, but rather, the encroaching darkness. It swallowed them, choked them even.

A long corridor stretched down towards the main attraction: the pews before the altar that rested beneath the dome. Light filtered in from the dome roof itself, and more usually would, though large sheets had been drawn along all other light sources. The only thing that lit their way were the large sconces that flickered with candlelight.

Stepping cautiously, the group made their way towards the centre, eyes always alert, vigilant of hidden figures in the shadows. They could see marvellous patterns etched on large arches and pillars, lit only by the low dim of the candles, but most light seemed to filter down to the altar itself, where a lone figure stood.

Donned in white, his back turned to them, there was no mistaking the identity of the figure.

He stood before a table that faced the altar, and Hershel struggled to make out what the shape was on the table itself. A slight movement confirmed it was a person. But whom?

Sofia could feel the fear biting at her, digging deeper with each step, and bending over, she whispered for Alexai to go hide. He tried to protest, but he could tell his mother was distressed, and without another word, he scuttled off into the pews, moving towards a pillar he could sneak his way behind.

When the group reached the very centre, their steps no longer echoing over marble, Cassiel spun around with a flourish, revealing a large, ornamental knife clenched firmly in his hand. Hershel gritted his teeth, which only drew a twisted sneer on Cassiel's lips. Shaking his head, he nodded to the figure on the table before him, and stepping aside, Hershel could not help but exclaim, his cry only matched by Flora's.

"Luke!" she shrieked, and her terror clearly tickled Cassiel, who slipped into a fit of giggles.

"I... I didn't think this would be so fun!" he said, wiping away a tear. "Never have I ever desired another's death, but certainly you and the boy are the exceptions."

Luke seemed to be unconscious, and only now did he stir, drawn awake no doubt from Cassiel's mad laughter. As his eyes flickered open, he took in where he was, struggled with the ropes that stretched his arms and legs wide to the table, and then he looked over to see the group opposite his captor. Never had he been happier to see the Professor, and he was taking into account his reunion not fourteen months prior.

"Professor!" he exclaimed. He caught sight of Flora too, taller, her face sculpted, her eyes as dazzling as ever, lit by the warm orange of candlelight. "Flora!"

"Don't worry!" Flora shouted, anger taking hold. "We're here for you!"

Cassiel once more erupted in laughter at the sight before him. Luke struggled in vain with his ropes, stopped and then turned to his captor.

"Who are you? Where is my father? And Emmy!"

Hershel started, looking around. Emmy was here?!

Cassiel's laughter died down, and he rested the tip of his blade on Luke's chest, drawing a grimace from the boy. Flora screamed in fury, but Cassiel only chuckled at her pain.

"A lot of questions I'm sure you have. But come now, take a closer look. Surely you recognise me, boy. After all..." He drew his face closer to Luke then, and as Luke took in all the details – he was the same, a few more lines, and his eyes looked far more damaged, but there was no mistaking the man – he felt the colour drain from his face.

"Costillos...."

Flashing Luke with a toothy grin, Cassiel drew back, removing the dagger's tip from the young man's chest.