Prologue

Love is patient, love is kind but above all, love is hard.

"I am here to see the Archangel."

"Aren't we all?" Replied the guard after chuckling at the blatant naivety of the frail woman. "Name?"

"I'm here to see the Archangel." She replied stubbornly still not looking up from her shoes that peeked out from the bottom of her cloak, revealing more of her toes through their large holes than the muddy, worn leather that formed the patchwork shoe itself.

They were her last pair.

Not that she had taken many substitutes with her when she had left. A hasty departure was never well planned.