by A. Catherine
She stared at me, a tiny flicker of fear and confusion crossed her expression, but then she nodded.
I closed my eyes and gently dug deeper into her subconscious, past the dreams and into the shadowed area of her memory palace.
I searched for Mason, any sign of him, using what she had already said about the memory to try to locate it. But like the almighty experienced, even from here, I found no sign of him.
Even if she hadn’t remembered him, there should have been a beacon of light inside her where the bond would have been. But there were only shadows and darkness. As if when he died, every trace of his soul was wiped out.
The information only added to my long list of questions. How was she able to remember it when speaking with me, but it was nowhere to be found when I looked for it?
I gently began withdrawing from her memory palace, sliding back through the dreams of her subconscious, and exited fully into the dream we both stood in.
I opened my eyes and watched her face. "I don't understand," I muttered.
The ground rumbled, the very walls of the dome shook. Heather and I both crouched a bit to steady ourselves. Bits of rock tumbled off the walls as the quaking grew stronger. Then it stilled for a moment.
Heather’s eyes were wide. “What was that?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
Then all at once the scenery changed. The dome stretched and pulled as if being ripped away. Light flooded in, grass reached up and met our feet. Heather’s body was pulled away from me by an unseen force.
I tried to grab her but missed.
Within seconds we weren't in the cave anymore, now we were on the edge of a cliff. Below the cliff, there was only darkness where I would imagine a sea to be.
Quickly after surveying our new location I turned back to make towards Heather—only to see she was no longer alone.
Behind her stood a hooded figure, its tattered cloak flowing outward like smoke and liquid. I couldn't see its face, but its hands curved to sharp talons. Those talons were wrapped around her neck, holding her hostage. She stood there, still, and seemingly unaware of the figure behind her. Enchanted in a way to remain calm.
A nightmare, this was a nightmare.
It leaned in close, whispering in her ear, and when it finished her vacant eyes locked on me. The golden/brown color of her irises shifted, consumed by a liquid onyx, completely overcoming the whites of her eyes, leaving them void of light.
"What are you?" I asked the figure.
Its free claws clicked together; its figure still hidden behind Heather.
“Good to see you Gabriel,” it said.
The voice was wet and raked, inhuman. Chills ran down my spine, but I kept it straight. Ready to surge my power at it if I needed to.
“Do we know each other?”
A sloppy, raspy chuckle. “You shouldn’t go poking into things that aren’t your business, archangel.” It traced one of its sharpened talons down Heather’s hair.
She remained still, unflinching.
“It became my business when you killed Mason.”
“It must be frustrating, a being of endless light to be in the dark. Still young and ambitious, still naïve,” it rambled.
I rallied some of my power, feeling its cleansing burn just underneath my skin. This wasn’t just a nightmare, and it couldn’t be allowed to stay here inside of her.
“Why don’t you enlighten me?”
From what it was implying, perhaps it wasn’t Mason’s murderer, but an accomplice.
"You are strong Gabriel, but impulsive. Even now, you’re preparing your mighty power to strike me down. But you are powerless here." The words of this creature came from Heather's mouth.
It had her under its control and if I attempted to strike it, it would result in striking her.
A show of force then. I unfurled my wings and let the light of my power bring more light into the space. A shadow remained surrounding Heather and the creature, my light couldn't penetrate it, the creature answered my display of power only with an amused hiss.
"I won’t ask again, tell me what you are and why you’re here.” I let my glow pulse to emphasize my words.
The last thing I wanted was to hurt the mortal, but if I had to in order to banish this thing, I would have no other choice. In the end, what was one mortal life to stopping a potentially cosmic threat?
When it didn’t answer me, I continued, “Are there more of you?"
The more I looked at it, the more familiar it seemed. An ancient creature that shouldn’t be in this realm, one that had been locked away long ago.
It only let out a hissing chuckle, tightening its grip on Heather.
My jaw tightened. “Release her immediately.” My voice was strong and vibrated the walls of the dream world. The walls of her subconscious rippled like fabric.
"You have no power over me, archangel. It’s been a pleasure.”
With a sickening hiss the figure pierced Heather's neck with its talons and she lurched forward. The blood that seeped from her wound was black, and it poured out like a river breaking from a dam.
When I went to lunge for her the blackened, oily blood flooded the earth and rushed towards me in a wave. I braced myself, curving my power into a protective shield in front of me.
When the force of the wave hit, I could feel myself being pushed back. I had to expand my shield until it became a bubble surrounding me to keep the liquid at bay. Still, it carried me back as if I were caught in a current of the ocean.
When it receded, I was no longer in her mind. And my energy was low.
Gasping, I looked around, I was back in her room.
"What in heaven—"
Heather remained asleep, her eyes fluttering as if the nightmare carried on for her. Her body twitched and shuttered, but she was alive despite what those talons did to her inside. I hadn't realized that my wings had come out during that ordeal. They consumed most of the room, luckily the room hadn't collapsed, only a few things had been knocked aside, things easily restored to their original place.
"Gabriel."
I shot hot light toward the sound, the beam enveloping the room in golden light. Ready to defend against anything that came near the human and me.
"Gabriel! It's just me!" The angel Duma blocked the light with all his might. He wasn't an archangel but could shield against a smiteful blow well enough. At least one that was weakened.
I breathed, easing the light. "Duma. I'm sorry, I acted on impulse."
"Why so defensive all of a sudden?"
I relaxed, retreating my wings back into myself. Bringing my power back down to a more manageable level. A few cracks in the walls, however, needed repairing before she awoke.
"I think I just encountered a wraith inside the human's subconscious."
"A wraith? Are you sure?" He was right to be doubtful.
"No, I'm not. It looked like a wraith but was immune to me. Maybe it was simply posing as a wraith to hide its true form." I began mending the broken pieces of the apartment. "What news from heaven?"
"The almighty and Lucifer came to an agreement; they’re assembling their best to work together as a team. They meet in two days in a secure location in the desert not far from here. He sent me to notify you," Duma explained.
"They’re assembling…? He expects us to work with the hellborn on this?” I asked.
Duma shrugged. “The almighty works in mysterious ways.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Indeed. Was it his idea or Lucifer’s?” I already knew the answer. Duma only gave a shrug. “That’s not leery at all.”
Duma leaned against the doorway, observing the sleeping human. Both of us hidden in the Ethereal realm now.
“Jade’s upset,” he muttered, his eyes scanning Heather, but distant, “Mason was a friend of hers. You and I trained him way back when, you remember?” he asked.
I nodded. “He was a good one.”
Biting his lip, he said, “I can’t think of anyone who would’ve wanted to
hurt him.”
I peered at Heather’s sleeping body, the sight of that wraith still fresh in my mind.
“I don’t think this is as simple as just someone with a grudge. It’s something bigger, darker.”
Duma dipped his chin in understanding, his eyes filled with grief.
This was new territory for us. Angels lived long enough lives that their natural decline towards death wasn’t abhorrent. But this, it was an open, gushing wound of mourning that we immortals weren’t accustomed to experiencing.
“Do you know who the almighty is calling for our end of this…assembly?" Wanting to distract Duma.
It appeared to work; the warrior calm returned to his eyes. He straightened.
"You’re to be in-charge, obviously. He’s asked me to join, as well as Iaoel, Jophiel and Jade." Those were strong angels. Some of the best in their fields in heaven, but a strange combination.
Duma seemed to read my thoughts. "I think he believes that a variety of abilities will have a better chance of finding and eliminating whatever the threat is. It doesn’t hurt that we all know one another and have worked together before, less chances of internal disputes.”
As if we would be the ones worrying about that.
“Plus,” he added, “I think he is hesitant to trust Lucifer and his hellborn, he wants a strong yet adaptable team to offer a unified front."
I laughed lightly. “I would hardly consider Jophiel adaptable.” My sister had a temper, and overall was very intolerant of demons.
Duma smiled with amusement as he shook his head. “I think she’s more for brute strength than anything.”
"Jophiel and I are the only archangels on that list, perhaps Raphael or Michael would be better choices.”
Michael was as strong as they get, and Raphael was a planner, he made calculated decisions that would benefit an alliance such as this.
Even if Mason fell under my jurisdiction, it doesn’t necessarily mean that I was the best choice. As much as I wanted to prove myself to be.
"Michael is probably the worst choice to make for this. Working with Lucifer and his cronies…it’d be anything but productive.” Duma chuckled at the idea.
It was true. Michael and Lucifer each considered the other their nemesis, and likely would forever.
“Besides, I assume they’re both the cavalry waiting in the wings, they’ll be used if stronger fighters are needed. No offense, of course.”
I nodded in understanding.
Duma and I were partners in my division. He knew my strengths and my weaknesses. And though I matched Raphael in raw power, I was nowhere near equal to his mind.
“He’s being strategic holding them back. Here’s to hoping they won't be needed," I added.
I fought against the twist of jealousy in my gut. My brothers have been around a lot longer than me, they’ve been tried in battle and in the development of this universe.
I would get my chance too, and perhaps this was it.
Sibling rivalry was natural in our family. Michael was a symbol of power, he made us all feel small in a way. Being the second oldest, his inherited power was more potent. The only ones of us who seemed to pay no mind to the power structure were Azrael and Chamuel. Their gifts made them neutral, indifferent.
A blessing, I suppose, to be so specifically gifted that you never have to fight for your place on the pyramid.
"Do we have someone assigned to guard the human while we meet?" I asked.
Her dreams concern me, all human life is something to be cherished, but my instincts told me something was different about Heather.
Duma studied my eyes carefully but answered my question without hesitation, "Jade intends to assign her second and third to watch over her. Since Guardians can be killed, more than one watching over her may be better."
I nodded in agreement.
Two Guardians weren't nearly as strong as an archangel, but they should be able to protect her and each other for a few hours.
Pairing up two Guardians would stretch our resources. All of our angels would be working double time for a while, and that may render them more susceptible to attack.
"I have to go, many angels are requesting additional combat training in hopes to better prepare for threats, so I’ve got a lot of work to do. But I will see you in a couple of days." Duma grasped my forearm with his hand.
"See you then, brother."
Light flashed in his wake as he disappeared. I turned back to Heather, who was still stirring in her nightmare.
I sighed and knelt beside her bed again. I lightly touched her head, smoothing her hair down.
"Rauha sinun unelma." Peaceful be thy slumber.
I recited a simple yet effective spell and used a little of my powers to further soothe her dreams. It would wipe away lingering pain and fear.
Her face calmed, and she drifted into a soft slumber.
"Mitä sinä enkeleillä ja demonilla olet, Heather?"
What are you to angels and demons, Heather?
FIVE
Azrael
THE ANGEL OF DEATH, Azrael, wasn’t like the other archangels.
Her duties dealt with souls more than all the others. She was in charge of all the Reapers and Thrones that roamed the earth, messengers and guides of death.
Azrael was organized by trade, with an ever-growing number of souls reaching their end each day as the global population continues to grow, without organization souls could slip through the cracks instead of finding peace.
Azrael’s job was pretty simple in the broad scope of things, she hasn’t had to interfere with living souls since the time of Exodus. However, the Balance was a large factor in her everyday existence.
She determined who belonged in the Elysian estates of heaven; who deserved peace and who was beyond the grasp of heavenly redemption.
Her Reapers were like worker bees, always working and adjusting where needed. Azrael has a spiritual connection with each and every worker, sending signals to point them in the direction they need to go.
Reapers don’t just hang about waiting for a human to pass away, they are specifically assigned to deaths, they’re only purpose is to grab hold of a soul once it has left the body and guide it to the Gates for judgement. Thrones are a lesser form of Reaper, lending assistance during mass deaths when necessary. But their main job is to guide those souls who will become angels upon passing, mostly young children who are still blessed with the innocence of youth.
The Gates of Judgement were sort of like a waiting room in an office. Souls would come in and wait to be called. Azrael was progressive in that way. Back during the height of the Egyptian empire, Azrael was referred to as Anubis, and the Gates involved balancing their good deeds against a feather.
Now, it’s like a doctor’s office, every soul has a chart categorizing their good deeds, sins, and overall influence on the lives they touched. Every human is given a chance to defend themselves or have a loved one vouch for their redemption.
Azrael, with the use of her Book of Order, would see the soul exactly as it was and it aided in the final judgement.
The death of a Guardian was unheard of, and when it happened Azrael heard it louder than most.
A soul not meant for judgement had broken the system.
When an angel’s long lifespan reached its end, the soul would simply pass right back to the almighty to be redistributed. No pain, no grief, just a part of the cycle.
But when the Guardian, Mason, passed unnaturally, it was cause for concern.
When his soul didn’t return to heaven, Azrael waited for Mason’s soul to find its way to her gate, hoping for an explanation. But it never came.
Azrael actively sent her Reapers to look for any signs of his soul heading for hell, but they found no evidence of it. She knew God would be visiting her for answers, and she would have to disappoint him.
Azrael flipped through her book, finding no answers to their endless list of questions. She looked at her tablet, scanning through the ever
updating list of incoming souls, but didn’t find the one she looked for. She slammed her fist against her desk. She felt restless and began pacing her office.
“Damn it.” She peered through the glass walls of her office down into the large room where souls came in and out.
She tapped her chin, tugging on a few threads in her mind linking to her head Reapers. “Anything?” she asked out loud, the message going down to each of them.
