The Crossing Point

by August Arrea

  “You are correct,” answered Thaniel whose knowledge about all living things and otherwise inside Eden, as well as outside, knew no bounds. “The Herrinsu vine is as far as I know indestructible. An attempt to slice through its delicate stem would be like trying to run the end of one’s sword into the side of mountain made of corundum.”

  “Unless the sword you are wielding is Destiny,” Gotham interjected. “Then cutting through the vine is as easy as snipping a strand of hair from one’s head.”

  ~~~

  Gotham continued as best he could with his telling of the story that, until that evening in the privacy of Anahel’s domicile, had existed only as whispered lore to the small band of angels gathered in the small, fire-lit room.

  “I knew Samael would not be stupid enough to show himself to me no matter how long I stood in the middle of the Infernal Desert and beckoned for him. Yet there was one bait I had which I knew he could not refuse,” said Gotham.

  “The Sword of Destiny,” said Anahel.

  “And his unquenchable hatred for me,” said Gotham. “I placed the sword on a nearby rock and cried out to the ears I knew were listening. ‘Come face me, and it’s yours.’ Finally he appeared and, when he saw the look in my eyes as I came at him with no weapon drawn but my bare fists, the grin that had seared itself in my memory was nowhere to be seen.”

  “For two straight days Samael and I fought, but no amount of pummeling one another seemed to exhaust the hatred and rage driving our balled fists. He knew not of the strength of the Herrinsu vine, but he eyed it suspiciously and there was a wariness in his eyes as he silently tried to figure out why I’d chosen to come armed with such a flimsy rope of a plant instead of the most powerful of swords I had long ago claimed,” continued Gotham. “My countless attempts to tether him proved fruitless, but shortly after dawn on the third day he made a fatal move and I managed to snare him. Once in the clutches of the vine he quickly realized his defeat.”

  Occasionally, while they quietly listened, the other angels would glance Damiel’s way, and the angel who had borne partial witness to the events being recited would nod agreement.

  “I soon had his arms and legs securely bound,” continued Gotham, “then stood over him watching as he flailed about like a fish cast from the water upon dry land. And the more he struggled the more the vine tightened its python-like hold and he quickly realized there was no escaping its painful binds. ‘So now what? Is this the extent of your vengeance?’ he hissed at me. As he writhed on the scorching clay-baked earth, he saw my intent was to leave him imprisoned in the wasteland surrounding him—the most desolate, uninhabitable hellish pock of desert I knew to exist in the mortal world—and he began to laugh; the same laugh he made heard as I cradled my dead boy. ‘You’re a fool, Gothamel. Surely you know this can’t hold me forever,’ he cried. And I bent down to him and I said with more glee than hate, ‘You can summon to your aid all the retched souls from the depths of the Underneath, including the Dark Dragon himself, and if it pleases you to do so you can fashion Hell fire into a blowtorch and turn it on your shackles. But it will be fruitless, and you will only find the vine grow tighter in its binding. There is only one thing that can be used to cut you free, and the sword you used to lead my son to his demise now holds court over yours.’ And he saw what I spoke was the truth, and as I left him to his rotting he attempted to bring sway over me with promises of riches and rule as though I were a common civilian. When he saw his words did not slow my footsteps as I continued to walk away from him he began to curse me in the vilest of ways. I found such cries to be the sweetest of sounds. For I knew I had rendered unto him something far worse than death.”

  “It is true,” said Damiel. “I stood watching from a distance when Gotham spotted me atop a ridge of rock, as I shared with you once already. As he came toward me I could see Samael bound tight by the Herrinsu vine, and even though he appeared as a watery vapor through the searing heat I could see in his fit of rage his body beginning to morph into unnatural forms as he thrashed wildly upon the ground in a futile attempt to free himself. And his screams soon became demonic growls sent across the barren pit of desert where not even bone-picking birds dare venture.”

  The room fell silent once more before Anahel cleared his throat.

  “Then it is true, and it explains the marked change in the air I sensed those many years ago, as if the Darkness had retreated from the shores of existence in a perpetual low tide,” he said thoughtfully. “Which bring us to the boy.”

  All eyes followed the mighty leader’s slow steps as they paced back and forth along the terrace. The breeze carried by the night gently fluttered the hem of his shirt. “While it was beyond clear to all us when we first laid eyes upon him the remarkable resemblance seen in the boy’s face—particularly around the eyes— the question demands to be asked,” said Anahel, before stopping and looking pointedly at Gotham. “Is he the offspring of Samael?”

  Gotham gave a hesitant glance around the room to the other angels readily awaiting to hear his answer.

  “Yes,” said Gotham when he finally answered. “I believe him to be Samael’s son.”

  ~~~

  When the tide of grumbling voices from the other angels greeted his answer, Gotham was not surprised. It was not every day the offspring of the enemy was brought willingly into their sanctuary. And now he braced himself for the expected backlash for being the perpetrator of such an unsanctioned breach.

  “But how can this be?” inquired Eksel. “If what you have claimed tonight is true, then Samael has been left bound in some desolate desert for at least the last fifty-odd years.”

  “Meaning?” asked Gotham.

  “Meaning,” spat Eksel snidely, “how do you account for him being able to sire a son who can be no more than fifteen?”

  “He is sixteen, to be exact,” corrected Gotham.

  “Sometimes, Eksel, I am amazed you can ask such questions and still claim yourself a Guide,” said Anahel with an exasperating sigh that brought a rare smirk to Gotham’s face.

  “By what are you implying with that remark?”

  “I believe what he’s inferring to,” Zuriel quickly broke in, “is the fact that while an angel, Fallen or not, can be bound as Gothamel states he did to Samael, it does not bind his power to move outside his physical presence.”

  Eksel looked to his fellow angels somewhat baffled. “Then what may I ask was the point in binding him with the Herrinsu vine?”

  “An angel’s ability to roam free of the body is similar to the way the Infectors choose to move in shadow among civilians, but in a much more diminished capacity,” explained Anahel. “Samael may be able to exercise that power, but he is basically a powerless apparition, like a figure in a dream.”

  “Except to breed if he so desires,” said Eksel. And from the look crossing Anahel’s face, no further comment was needed. “So then, with all due respect, not so powerless as you attested.”

  “And how is it the child found its way into your charge?” Thaniel asked Gotham.

  “The mother is the daughter of the woman who came to bear my child. And, no, before you inquire, I do not believe that is mere coincidence” answered Gotham. “I’m sure you’re all sharing the same silent question in your mind, and that is why now? As far as any of us are aware, this is Samael’s first and only child. For reasons unbeknownst us, he has refrained all these centuries from siring a son. So why now? And why choose this woman?”

  Anahel’s gaze fixed intently on Gotham suddenly cast itself to the floor as the growing conjecture heard in the angel’s voice made its way around the room. “And why do you think that is?” he asked, but the tone in his voice indicated he was already privy to the answer.

  “He knew the boy would be safe,” answered Gotham. “He knew suspicion over who the father was wouldn’t come until after the boy had grown some and began showing the obvious resemblances. He gambled that I would not be unable to strike down another innocent Fledgling, even one who t
urned out to be his own son. But more importantly that I would find it impossible to bring upon Ava the devastating pain that would come to her by committing such an act, especially after what had befallen her own child. He gambled right.”

  Anahel mulled the answer quietly with an understanding nod of his head. “And what of the mother?” he then asked. “What does she say of the father?”

  “It was a struggle for her to understand. I came to learn he came to her on several occasions in her dreams while she slept, or so she believed at first. He was charming and kind, deceptive in form as an angel of light, not dark. To say she was devastated when she learned the true nature of the stranger visiting her would be an understatement,” said Gotham. “Long ago she sought my vow to bring the boy here to ensure he would become what his father is not. It was the only way she knew to attempt to combat this terrible deceptive act heaped upon her, and the boy whom she loved dearly. She has recently passed, which is how he has come into my charge, to answer your question, Thaniel.”

  At that moment, Eksel suddenly pushed his way past his fellow Guides.

  “You may have proved yourself too weak to sever this dangerous bloodline, but I am not,” he said with a determined growl. And, as he reached behind to his left wing to retrieve a gleaming sword, Damiel stepped forward and placed a halting hand against his chest.

  “You would dare draw your sword here against one of our Fledglings?”

  “Maybe yours, but not mine,” snarled Eksel, before pushing Damiel aside.

  He took only a couple steps toward the door when in a blur of movement Gotham was suddenly standing before him blocking his path.

  “It will only be over my lifeless body that you be allowed another step!” said the angel with a steely coolness.

  “Don’t tempt me,” said Eksel.

  “Enough!” barked Anahel, before ordering Eksel to return his weapon back into the plumage from which it was drawn. And with the fiery glare of Anahel’s eyes narrowed on him, Eksel knew better than to challenge him.

  “Now, then,” Anahel, turning to Gotham after taking a calming breath, continued, “last time we were face to face, you placed before me a difficult decision, one which created an uneasy and marked division within the Garden that remains to this day. And now you return these many years later with an even more difficult situation in need of ruling by me, and already you can see here tonight the conflict it is causing. So I ask you, what do you believe would be fair?”

  “A chance,” Gotham offered simply. “The boy deserves as much. Despite who his father may be, he remains a Nephilim, the same as the other boys who are gathered in the Hall tonight, and as such a member of our clade. We have an obligation to provide him equal guidance. Otherwise, we willingly cast him to the Darkness to meet what we have already perceived to be his fate.”

  “And what of Samael?” growled Eksel. “Do you think he is going to stand by, bound or not, to his son being brought here?”

  “Since when has Samael achieved success in sending a yellow stripe between your wings?” Gotham snapped back.

  Before another spat could erupt between the two angels, Zuriel stepped forward between the two. “I must echo Eksel’s concern. While I tend to agree with Gothamel about our duty to the Nephilim, whether they come from Fallen stock or not, this goes beyond the pale. Allowing the boy to remain will cast a dangerous pall over Eden. The Darkness with see this as a willful affront and an act of war on our part.”

  “A war that is destined to be waged whether the boy stays here or not,” argued Damiel.

  “Then you stand in support of what Gothamel has laid at our feet?” asked Zuriel.

  Earlier in the day Gotham had appealed to Damiel for his support as the two walked through the Forest accompanying Jacob to the Garden. Now, Damiel found himself sharing a hesitant look with Gotham as he continued to waver over what he knew would be a divisive stance on his part amongst the other Guides.

  “I do,” he finally said with a finality void of question, at least none betrayed in his voice.

  “Have you taken leave of your senses, Damiel?” Eksel bellowed in angst. “Was it not enough Eden and everything residing in the Light was nearly lost at the hands of Gothamel’s own son? You want now to hold open the door and invite in this same messenger who now gifts us with a Trojan horse crafted by the Darkness itself.”

  “My senses, razor sharp should you care to test them, Eksel, remind me that the argument you continue to scream forth concerning Gothamel’s son is exactly the reason why we should support his request,” answered Damiel brashly. “Despite whatever personal feeling anyone in this room may have where Gothamel is concerned, you cannot deny he has paid the ultimate sacrifice to both Eden and the Light. Nor can any one of you, whether you care to admit it outright, lay forth the claim he has not been loyal and true in his service when he had no right or gain to be so.”

  The fervency with which Damiel voiced his words of support seemed at first to catch Gotham off guard and drew a thankful, heart-felt nod from the angel. Gotham then turned to Anahel who was carefully taking in everything being spoken. “You know I would never do anything to bring unnecessary danger to Eden, or to those of us outside its boundaries. I have weighed this decision until my head ached from the uncertainty. Be assured, however, if you deem it to be too precarious a situation beyond your comfort, I will return the boy with haste and without ill will to the outside world and provide him, to the best of my abilities, with the knowledge and training he would have gotten here.”

  Anahel left Gotham’s side and all eyes watched as he wandered about the room. With a deeply pensive look, he looked to the night sky above where the stars appeared as glittering diamonds strewn across a fathomless black sea. And when he finally took a breath and parted his lips to speak his decision, a relieved smile came to Gotham’s face.

  “With all due respect, Anahel, I would offer that a decision of this magnitude should come forth from the full council of the White Circle,” said Zuriel.

  Anahel turned his gaze to Gotham. “No, I don’t believe the White Circle need concern itself with this matter,” he said, after momentarily pondering the Guide’s words. “I have always trusted Gothamel’s judgment. If anything, he has earned the right from us to at least entertain his request and see how it goes. For the time being at least.”

  “Then you will choose to honor the wishes of a Fallen over the rest of us?” spat Eksel with contempt.

  “What I do is not tied to the honor of anyone’s wishes, but based on the oftentimes forgotten reason why Eden’s Gate was reopened in the first place, as well as the duty that has been bestowed upon us, which Gothamel has well reminded me,” answered Anahel in a voice rising in growing frustration toward the Watcher. “You’d be well-served to refresh yourself on that matter.”

  Eksel’s eyes flashed with malice at Gotham and, turning abruptly on his heel, he quickly made for the door before being stopped once more by Anahel’s voice.

  “One thing more, Eksel: stew if you so choose to,” warned Anahel, “but I caution you now, you will treat the boy as you would any other Nephilim left in your instruction. Understood?”

  Want as he might, Eksel knew better than to argue a directive coming from Anahel. So smartly holding his tongue he continued his leave from the room.

  “Need I say that goes for the rest of you, as well,” said Anahel to the remaining Guides who quickly followed in Eksel’s steps, but with less charge and with much less anger.

  ~~~

  “There’s no love lost between him and I, is there?” Gotham remarked to Anahel when they were alone.

  “Eksel is a good soul. Hot-headed and simple in his own way, but good,” replied Anahel, before casting a serious look onto Gotham. “And now that he and the others have gone I must be blunt with you, Gothamel. I sided with you tonight because it was the right thing to do, but I will be honest and tell you I share many of the concerns Eksel voiced, and more. Be sure I do not come to regret the decision
I have made.”

  Gotham nodded with understanding. “There’s just one thing more.”

  “There always is,” said Anahel with an sigh of exacerbation.

  “It is with uttermost importance that what has been said here tonight in regards to Samael remains in this room.”

  Anahel cocked his head with curiousness. “Am I to make from the concern heard in your voice the boy doesn’t know Samael’s his father?”

  Gotham shook his head. “For some reason he hasn’t inquired yet about who his father might be, but I can sense the question on the edge of his tongue. When the time comes I would like to be the one to offer the answer. Right now, though, I’d like for him to just get his head wrapped around where he is and who he is.”

  “Whatever you deem best for the lad, I will comply,” said Anahel.

  “You will see to it then my request is honored by the others a well?”

  Anahel nodded.

  “I’ve noticed in this short amount of time tonight since your arrival that you’ve taken an unusually protective stance when it comes to the boy,” Anahel commented as the two began making their way toward the door.

  “What’s so unusual about it?” asked Gotham.

  “Nothing really. After all, he was put in your charge. And, considering who his mother is, it’s only natural you would be cautious of his well-being. Yet I can’t help but wonder.”

  Gotham waited for Anahel to finish the thought that for a moment drew a pregnant silence.

  “What do you wonder?” he finally asked.

  “If maybe you see an opportunity to steal from Samael what he first stole from you.”

  “Trust me, Anahel, were my aim to smite the boy I would have done so long ago and saved myself the aggravation of bringing him here.”

  “Who mentioned anything about smiting the boy?” questioned Anahel. “There are plenty of methods to do unto Samael that which he has done unto you without the aid of a sword, and just as insufferable.”

  Gotham was visibly taken back by Anahel’s pointed if not perceptive suggestion. Before he could answer, Anahel opened the door to his room where sitting on the other side was Jacob, patiently waiting with his wolf at his side.