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Sera found a moment of serenity at dusk, watching the star sink below the city skyline. Bringing memories.
The mythological epithets were commonplace: Lucifer, the morning star, the light bringer. But, among the seraphim, he had another nickname. Songbird.
It was bestowed by the Speaker herself. She was always meant to be impartial — but even she had favorites. The runt of the nest. Little songbird. He filled Heaven with sweet music.
Loyalty was a mortal convention. Sera owed nothing to him for being his sister. But, in the stillness of evening, it lingered.
Songbird, Heaven is much quieter without you.