The Halls of Worship were always alive with the sound of choral music - haunting, triumphant, the harmonies always seemed to reach to the High Heavens. It wasn't the Trisagion, but human hymns had their own beauty.

Still, the Archangels were busy and there was rarely any reason to go.

Janus threw down his invitation and threw up his hands. "Honestly! We don't even know who that guy *was*! Why should we go to some kind of crazy obsessive cultish wacky worship of his birth?"

Marc turned his own invitation over and over in his hands. "...Well," he said at last, answering Janus, "Because we've been invited."

"*So*?"

"So someone thinks this is important enough to warrant it."

"Well," Janus said, and crossed his arms. "*I* don't."

Michael considered the invitations, then tucked his in a pocket of his fatigues. "I'm going," he said, and headed for the door.

Huffily, Janus said, "It's a waste of time. That's all it is."

Marc smiled and rose to follow Michael. "It's just music, Janus. If nothing else, it's not harmful."

"Fine!" Janus said. "Go! Waste your time in a stuffy church for a few hours. Your loss!"

He watched them leave.

"I'm really not going!" Janus yelled.

Michael waved to him vaguely and rounded the corner. vanishing.

"*God*," Janus said with disgust, and followed.

When they arrived, the Halls were packed, though space was quickly made for the Archangels. Looking around, Janus could see others - Novalis down by the front, and if he didn't miss his guess, that shadow by the pilliar was actually Dominic. He stuck his tongue out in its general direction.

Marc dodged several people in the crowd, coming up with programmes. "Looks like the evening's going to start with 'Hodie Christus Natus Est'," he commented. "That's a nice one at least. You'd like it, Janus."

Janus frowned at him. "Don't expect me to stay," he said. "Two hours of music is too damn long."

"Quiet," Michael said.

One by one, the choir took up position. Janus grumbled under his breath when he saw Laurence, dressed in a simple white robe, take a place at the front of the choir. "Great," he muttered. "Laurence. He sings, he dances, he commands the armies of God!"

Marc nudged him.

A silence fell across the room as Laurence raised his hands. He smiled faintly at the silence, then opened his mouth and sang: "Hodie, hodie..."

Janus listened and watched. The singing was good, he decided eventually. Nothing to write home about, but good. But-

Laurence had joy written on his features, eyes closed as he sang and listened and sang. Despite his shadowy form, he seemed to glow; despite his wrathful nature, he seemed at peace.

Crossing his arms, Janus leaned on one wall.

He could stay for a *little* while, at least.