The arrival of Ashakiel, though she did not know the demoness to be named as such, did not go unnoticed. How could it in all its palpable dark energies and murderous mantras? Sarathiel was given the distinct impression this demon once knew a better life among the damned. Her unsettled composure and haughty tones screamed of her former status in sacrilegious tomes. Sarathiel listened in mild amusement to the banter exchanged between the princess slave and the adjacent incubus. His attitude betrayed his youth before Ashakiel drew attention to it. Her brow lifted with interest as the demoness self identified as a descendant of the Fallen. She logged that little nugget of information away for latter reference.<br/><br/>The clamor of the messenger's approach drew her eyes and ears him. You didn't need to posses a knowledge of the ages -which she possessed, presently crippled as it was- to guess at the origins of that dog headed beast. She took the demoness' name from his lips but turned her attentions from him when he broached the topic of carnal urges with the incubus, and as such missed his assault on the demoness. Her eyes were instead for Zehair, rapidly closing the distance between them as far as their bars would allow.<br/><br/>Sarathiel couldn't help but force a smile at former archangel's chivalrous display.<em>Ah the warrior choirs</em>, she had nearly forgotten their impulsive natures and propensity towards dramatic codes and pledges. At least his taint hadn't drained him of all former habits, as reckless and impractical as they may have been to someone of a more academic design.<br/><br/>"Careful, brother. Don't go forging oaths impossible to keep. I am here by virtue of my own disobedience and foolish pride." She chided quietly, giving a slow hake of her head.<br/><br/>As if on cue, the demoness in silk and leather chimed in. Sara smiled, unable to offer up a counterargument to her stinging venom. "She may very well be right." She murmured to herself, thumbing at the band of leather about her throat. Who have thought such a simple, inconspicuous chestnut colored strip with its few sparse symbols could have been the source of such great restraint against her abilities? The roars of the crowd above drew her from her bitterly amused introspection.<br/><br/><em>ALTICUS</em><br/><br/>She knew the name. It rested somewhere within the reaches of her caged memory, barred beyond her grasp. "I know that name." She whispered in a hiss, giving her collar a frustrated futile tug. "From where do I know that name?" She paced and pulled to no avail.