"What took you so long? I was starting to think you came to your senses," one of the Heretics said with a sly grin, stepping forward from the shadows. His face was half-covered by a black marks, and the smirk on his lips made Izikel's skin crawl.
Izikel narrowed his eyes. He didn't like how casual the atmosphere was. The Heretics weren't attacking.
He took a step forward, confused. "Why aren't they attacking?" he whispered under his breath.
Raynoel, who stood just ahead of him, didn't bother turning around. His voice came sharp and disgusted. "Don't fucking speak to me, you sinner."
The Heretic let out a low chuckle. "I'm a sinner? You're the one letting me go with your people. That doesn't seem very holy to me."
That was when something clicked. Izikel felt a cold realization crawl up his spine.
"They're not my people," Raynoel said flatly, eyes cold.
Felvin stepped forward, visibly rattled. "Raynoel… what's going on? What are they saying? They're lying, right?"
