#and the differences

Rizzar saw the flash of amber in the distance--a streak flickering between the detritus of destroyed foundations and retaining walls. It was all that remained of C'janus. If any buildings still stood, they lacked any useful function, save as a place to hide from the demons. With the roofs blown off and the windows broken in, any of the old homes or businesses were more likely to be painful hazards than shelters from the near-constant storms.

But Rizzar held little concern for the storms with a demon skulking about the ruins. If he'd learned anything over the last decade, it was that they couldn't hide the sulfur-glow of their sickly eyes. Spot that, and you stood a chance. Spot that, and your natural demon-sense kicked in.

He waited for the hair on his arms to stand on end, and for the pine-needle prickles to shiver up his spine. When neither occurred, he wondered if, perhaps, the demon wasn't here to feed...

Cautiously peeking around the wall, Rizzar found himself face-to-face with--

"Hello," it said, yellow eyes blinking in surprise.

Rizzar should have already been dead. Demons didn't talk, they devoured. But all he could think of to say was, "Why couldn't I sense you?"

"Sense me?" the creature asked, then nodded. "Ah, I see."

As Rizzar's terror kept his attention focused on those bright eyes, he realized they weren't yellow at all. They were gold--bright, shimmering, hopeful gold. Unsullied gold, like sunlight on forest leaves, cascading with lazy abandon into even the darkest crevasses where light dared not tread.

"You're not a demon," Rizzar said. "You--Where have you been?" Stupidly, he clenched both fists and struck the angel repeatedly on the chest. Or where he thought its chest was. Celestial creatures didn't exactly look human, nor were they always logically-shaped.

With comforting gentleness, the angel took both Rizzar's hands. "Locked away. Imprisoned. I am here. I am the scout."

His anger spent, Rizzar sobbed. "Please..."

and it was my idea.