“I do not. I only know that a prayer came and I was sent with great haste.”

Sotare looked at the man. “He is not one of ours. Today he was almost seduced into suicide by a demon.”

Nomos responded. “If a prince is here, then this man holds great importance.”

“Yes, and it means that a battle is coming.”

The angels looked up at Nabal. Its huge breadth cast a shadow over the gazebo. The light of the sun passed through the spirit-demon, and its intensity lessened in the process. Around the prince, an aura of light shimmered slightly as the sunlight glinted off the edges of its tight leathery skin.

The slave demon flapped its wings. One of them sliced through Nabal’s shadow, sending darker slivers earthward.

“Nabal has many slaves,” said Nomos. “I see only one.”

“It would seem that the others are doing its bidding elsewhere.”

Sotare glanced around uneasily while Nomos studied Mark.

***

Mark was very tired and utterly downcast. He slumped in the seat. A subtle urge to cry returned, but he forced it away with a groan and a flex of his fists. He let his body collapse further in the bench. Despair coursed through him. He stiffened in defiance and hit his thighs. “Crap!” he muttered.

Completely dejected, he sat alone in the garden’s shadows. He thought about the inner voice that now seemed somehow not his own. He frowned and gritted his teeth. It didn't make any sense. But he couldn't shake the idea, the feeling that there was something else involved. That's when he thought that maybe there was a spiritual force influencing him.

“I’m losing it,” he said aloud. “I must be going crazy.” The two angels listened carefully, as did the evil creatures above.

Mark shook his head. “It doesn't make any sense.” His own words were somehow soothing. “I've never seriously thought of suicide before. What’s happening to me?”