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I have no idea why I’m back here and I don’t know how to go about finding out. Demetrius? Dem? Any thoughts?”
    Phoebe looked up at her friend and found his eyes fixed ahead of him.
    “Finding out what you’re meant to do may not be just as difficult as you think…” said Demetrius in quiet, almost whispered tones. As his voice trailed off, Phoebe saw that his jaw had dropped slightly open and he was gazing intently into the horizon. She followed his gaze and had to plop back down on to the rock in sheer surprise when her eyes locked on to what Demetrius had spotted. There, no more than ten feet away, was a figure – a giant, muscular, glowing figure!
    “Dem…” Phoebe grabbed Demetrius’s hand. “So I wasn’t dreaming! That’s an… It’s a… He’s an…”
    “…an angel.” Demetrius finished Phoebe’s sentence for her as the teenagers stood to their feet and gawped like dumb-struck children at the imposing creature that was approaching them. “Yes Bird, I can definitely see that…”
    “Phoebe,” Cosain’s voice was authoritative but gentle. “Phoebe, don’t be afraid. We have been sent to help you. I am Cosain, Captain of the Heavenly Host, and the Atoner’s commander in chief. The Atoner has a job for you to do. It is crucial to your future and will affect more people than you could realise. I cannot fully explain now, but we must hurry, there is not a lot of time.”
    Phoebe and Demetrius were rooted to the spot, and neither knew whether to stand there and hear what the angel had to say, or run away screaming. A part of Phoebe still believed herself to be dreaming, and she shook her head and blinked, half expecting the eight foot stranger to vanish. But he did not vanish. Instead, Cosain held out his hand to the wary teenagers, beckoning them towards him. As Phoebe and Demetrius moved tentatively towards Cosain, suddenly the rest of his troop appeared, resplendent and ready for the task at hand. Cosain smiled at the angelic warriors, so unwavering and dedicated to the task in hand.
    “This is Phoebe Wren, the one to whom the Atoner has assigned this task.” Cosain smiled again at a bewildered Phoebe and then introduced her to the other warriors.
    “This is Solas the Bright,” he said, placing an arm around the broad shoulders of the first angel. At well over seven feet tall, Solas stood only a few inches shorter than Cosain. His jet black hair was pulled back from his face in a braid, and his sharp stoic features reminded Phoebe of a picture she had seen once of a Sioux Indian brave.
    “This is Dilis the Brave,” Cosain continued, nodding to the gentlest looking of the angelic troop. Dilis had the same broad shoulders and imposing stance, but his brown hair framed his face in soft waves, accentuating his hazel eyes, which exuded a kindness that made Phoebe feel at once safe with him.
    “This is Lasair the Fiery,” Cosain introduced the next giant, who had bright, eager green eyes, and fiery red hair. ‘He looks Irish!’ Phoebe thought, and smiled.
    “And Trean the Loyal,” Cosain smiled across at Trean, and it occurred to Phoebe that this great warrior had a Nordic look about him, with fine features, piercing blue eyes, pale skin and hair so blonde it was almost white.
    “Neam the Defender. And Croga the Valiant,” Cosain gestured to the remaining two warriors. These angelic giants stood upright, their dark skinned faces set like flint, yet kind and soft behind their steely gait. Both Neam and Croga had long, dark hair, and they reminded Phoebe of Maasai warriors. They were all, without exception, dressed for battle, with imposing looking breastplates, and long leather laced boots. She noticed that most carried one enormous sword which, for now at least, was sheathed and hanging at the angels’ sides. Croga, however, had dual swords, which were strapped to his muscular back, their handles forming an ‘X’ just behind his head.
    “This will be strange and new to you,