Jamael thought his promotion to archangel and then to guardian of the Spawn Sanctuary was a huge surprise. Not that he doubted his abilities or capabilities. Any angel who survived the rebellion deserved a promotion to archangel by default. In fact, anyone who survived the rebellion deserved more than just a promotion. That was his deduction, and he believed his logic to be both valid and true. So why was his promotion and special assignment a surprise? Jamael had no answer.
Perhaps it was the subconscious fear that the Spawn Sanctuary was part of the reason why his predecessor, Maziel, had joined the other side. Perhaps it was a subconscious, deep-seeded feeling of self-doubt about his merits. Perhaps it was because, unlike his predecessor, it had been a different archangel who had given him this special assignment. For him to hold a position of such high importance, why had Michael, archangel supreme, himself not appointed him? Why the change in procedure? Was his new position meant to be a promotion or an insult? To offset the sour feeling in his essence, Jamael constantly reminded himself that being the guardian to the Spawn Sanctuary was a position of high importance.
So why had he not alerted Celestia when his predecessor, now Kazuk, the King of Hell Realm, had contacted him, as per protocol? Was it the shock from Kazuk’s sheer audacity or was it just him, Jamael, being his usual confused and indecisive self? It was more than a bold move from Kazuk, and it seemed as if Kazuk had taken a huge shot in the dark. Or maybe, after all, there was a reason why Kazuk was the king of Hell Realm. Word on Celestia’s streets was that Kazuk was doing a wonderful job turning Hell into a haven. But that could have been propaganda from Hell Realm sympathizers, however many they were within Celestia.
Kazuk had wasted no time in introducing himself. The non-corporeal, sub-Celestial vibrational frequency Kazuk had used was, indeed, genius. Kazuk’s communication had bypassed Celestia’s entire security systems, and Celestia had detected absolutely nothing. Against his every conscious effort, Jamael had listened. Against the warning bells that went off in his head, Jamael had paid attention to Public Enemy Number One. Against all logic, Jamael had allowed a seed to be sowed into his subconscious, even though his conscious mind pretended to riot against, and reject, whatever Kazuk had to say or was trying to say. Against his own willpower, Jamael had succumbed to the seduction that was Kazuk. Jamael still remembered how that conversation had gone and how he had felt that moment.
***
“First of all, I would like to congratulate you on your promotion!” Kazuk said telepathically. “You must feel honored to be the guardian of the spawn sanctuary.”
Jamael did not say anything. He wanted to say something, anything! But he just could not say anything, and he did not know why.
“So, I’m sure you went through the vigorous selection procedure with Michael, no?” Kazuk asked but without really expecting a reply.
Jamael’s surprise must have been so palpable that Kazuk must have picked up on it, wherever he was. What was Kazuk trying to say? Jamael was never tested! He never underwent a selection process! An archangel, whose name Jamael could not even remember, had walked up to him and told him that he had been specially selected by Michael to be the gatekeeper to the Spawn Sanctuary. And just like that, he had been stationed. So, what selection process was Kazuk insinuating? Jamael had NEVER even been anywhere close to Michael in his entire existence.
“Oh wait! You didn’t go through any selection process?” Kazuk had asked, and even in his non-corporeal tone, Jamael could detect Kazuk’s surprise.
Whether the surprise was genuine or not was another matter altogether.
“Let me tell you about what I went through before I was made guardian of the spawn sanctuary,” Kazuk continued.
Kazuk then proceeded to narrate, in as much detail as possible, the test he went through with Michael and all the compliments that Michael gave him. He made sure he focused a lot on his experiences WITH Michael, the highest-ranking archangel ever. Jamael could neither talk back on shut Kazuk out. Yet, Jamael still did not alert counter-intelligence.
“I can’t help but wonder why you weren’t tested the way I was,” Kazuk had said.
Kazuk’s attempt at adding extra unintended low blows was working.
“Well, I won’t distract you any further now, Jamael,” Kazuk had added kindly. “But I shall return later. If you’d like, I could teach you how to communicate with me through this undetectable frequency. But if you prefer not to learn, I’d recommend that the next time I try to reach you, you could go ahead and sound the alarm and alert Raphael.”
Kazuk waited a little for Jamael to digest this subtle offer.
“I’ll talk to you later, Jamael,” Kazuk said and ended the telepathic link.
Jamael had chewed on this for several moments. Was it true what Kazuk was saying? Maybe Kazuk was lying. After all, Kazuk was the King of Hell and could not be trusted for any reason. But such details could not easily be fabricated. What did Kazuk stand to gain from telling him this story? That was a loaded question. It was clear that Kazuk’s move was carefully calculated. As Jamael played with these thoughts in his head, he concluded that Kazuk had initiated contact with him for the sole purpose of trying to recruit him.
Jamael’s anger flared at the thought of even paying attention to the King of Hell Realm. Jamael decided he would sound the alarm right there and then. He was about to react on impulse. But he changed his mind. For some reason, he had a change of heart. He wrestled with his options. In the end, he decided he would report the situation later to someone in counter-intelligence and let them handle the situation.
But what if Kazuk was telling the truth? It did seem a little odd that an assignment as important as being a guardian could be handed over with such nonchalance. If what he had heard about Michael was true, then Kazuk’s story was more likely to be the truth than to be a lie. And if Kazuk’s story was the truth, why did he, Jamael, not go through the same testing and selection process like Kazuk did? Was it because he was not even considered worthy to be tested? Was it because he was just some archangel without a purpose and he was given this assignment out of pity? Was it just because Michael, or whoever had selected him, thought that he, Jamael, could use a little boost in self-confidence? Jamael was starting to feel the flames of rage come alive in him. How dare they! Who did they think they were? Just because he was of a lower rank than they were, did not give them the right to shove such blatant disrespect in his face!
As his anger grew, his envy and jealousy for Kazuk grew as well. At least, even though Kazuk had defected to the other side, Kazuk knew how to take a stand and make something for himself. Kazuk was even tough enough to last a few moves with Michael. Kazuk had been tested AND selected. Kazuk was certainly a better archangel than he, Jamael, was. And why had Kazuk initiated contact with him? To taunt him? To mock him? To gloat? He would certainly report Kazuk. But not until after he had had words with Kazuk. For now, he would play along, just only long enough to lure Kazuk in for an eventual capture. Once Kazuk was out of the way, he would seek audience with Michael. Now that would be a more serious and, by far, tougher feat to accomplish. But Jamael was sure that, in his seeming stupidity and low self-confidence, that he would come up with something.
So Jamael waited for Kazuk to initiate contact again. With each passing moment, his fury grew, as well as his desire for payback. His ego was badly hurt, and his ego demanded retribution for such blasphemy! Yes, this was blasphemy! He did not know how he would get retribution, though. All Jamael knew was that, by his wings, there was going to be some retribution, even if it meant burning down Hell and Celestia, he would burn down both realms! Nothing would appease his ego until both realms had paid for this insult.
And as Jamael’s thoughts raced in every direction and his emotions boiled over, The Scribe rolled his eyes in boredom. Planting all these thoughts and emotions in Jamael was far too easy and even beneath a multidimensional being like himself. But he had to do it. He could trust no one but himself to see every p
iece of his grand plan to fruition.
“Hello, Jamael,” Kazuk’s voice cooed telepathically from nowhere. “Have you considered my offer yet?” Kazuk asked and waited.
Jamael maintained his position.
“I take it since the alarms haven’t gone off,” Kazuk continued, “that you have decided to at least let me teach you how to communicate on this sub-Celestial vibrational frequency? I’ll wait for a few moments, and if nothing happens, then I’ll take it as a yes.”
A few moments later, with Jamael still maintaining his position, Kazuk took it as an affirmation from Jamael.
“Great! Someone will come to you shortly and teach you,” Kazuk said, with a little more excitement than warranted. “Hold on, please.”
Jamael was nervous and confused at the mention of ‘someone’ coming over to teach him. Anyway, there was no moment to worry about that now.
“He’s all yours, Scribe!” Kazuk said.
“My, my, my! He is a feisty one indeed, my king,” The Scribe said.
Jamael was startled by the other voice. Someone called Scribe?
“Just get on with it, Scribe!” Kazuk ordered.
“Of course, my king!”
The Scribe was being kind to Kazuk. He did not want to disrespect the King of Hell Realm in the presence of a potential recruit, especially one of such high importance. He then turned his attention towards Jamael. He smiled at Jamael’s confusion and inability to see him.
“This may sting a little bit, but you’ll be fine,” The Scribe said to Jamael.
Before Jamael could process what The Scribe said, a sharp pain radiated from the base of his neck to the left side of his head. He winced but tried not to make any sudden moves. He was not sure if anyone was keeping an eye on him or not. He squeezed his eyes shut as the pain increased a little and when he opened them, he realized everything around him was different. Everything was brighter, more colorful, finer and more beautiful. It felt like he could see and touch things that he could not see and touch before. Jamael smiled and relished the moment. He turned around to look behind him, and when he saw a stranger standing casually behind him, he almost screamed and attacked. But The Scribe lifted his hands in the air to indicate he came in peace.
“You don’t want to attract any attention now, do you?” The Scribe asked.
The Scribe walked towards Jamael, who took a step back, ready to summon his spear.
“I am The Scribe,” he said. “You can see me, no one else can. And no, don’t worry; the alarms have not been triggered, in case you didn’t realize. Now, try to say something, Jamael!” The Scribe ordered.
Jamael opened his mouth to say something, and The Scribe shook his head.
“Without using your mouth,” The Scribe prompted.
Jamael tried again and still opened his mouth. He closed it quickly before The Scribe could say anything. After, two more attempts, Jamael still failed.
“Just try to THINK of what you want to say and then mentally vocalize those words,” The Scribe prompted. “Like telepathy, just not at Lemuria’s frequency.”
When Jamael failed on another attempt, The Scribe shook his head in disappointment and turned to walk away.
“I told you, my king,” he said. “He’s no good!”
“And who are you to tell me I’m no good?!” Jamael screamed with his mind.
Then, Jamael realized that he was able to speak like they did. His anger quickly gave way to excitement.
“Ah, the power of persuasion!” The Scribe said smiling.
The Scribe then turned and addressed Kazuk.
“My work here is done, my king!” and without waiting for any reply, The Scribe vanished from sight.
“I’m glad you’re able to communicate with us now, Jamael,” Kazuk spoke cordially. “I believe you have many questions for me. So, please, ask away.”
“First of all, why did you tell me your story?” Jamael asked, trying to keep his feeling of shame and humiliation under control.
“I told you; because I wanted to share my story with you,” Kazuk replied.
“Nonsense! You wanted to gloat, did you not?” Jamael could feel his anger boiling over already. “You wanted to make me jealous! You wanted to make me know that you’re so much better than I am, did you not?”
“Are you assuming that I was already fully aware of the fact that you did not go through any form of testing or selection?” Kazuk asked calmly.
“I did assume you knew already!” Jamael spat. “But now the real question is, how did you know already?”
“I will be completely honest with you, Jamael,” Kazuk’s tone was loaded with sincerity and empathy. “I did not tell you my story to gloat, or taunt you or to make you jealous, even though I was fully aware of how you got your assignment.”
“Then why did you tell me your story?” Jamael asked.
“I did tell you a story, Jamael,” Kazuk replied, calling Jamael by his name.
It was a subtle way of letting Jamael know that he, Kazuk, could relate to Jamael, even though they both lived in different realms.
“But my story was not what I was trying to communicate to you. The real story I was telling you was one that is felt, not heard.”
Kazuk paused for a moment to let the implication sink in.
“I don’t follow,” Jamael said, feeling his anger turning to confusion.
“I already know of your story because I have brothers and sisters among you and they keep us informed of certain matters of importance, high value, and purpose,” Kazuk explained.
He could feel his words working their magic into Jamael’s mind.
“You mean spies!” Jamael’s sense of loyalty to Celestia kicked in.
“I will never use the term ‘spies’ to replace words like ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters,’ Jamael,” Kazuk rebutted.
“But that’s what they are!” Jamael retorted. “They ARE spies!”
“To you, they are spies, Jamael!” Kazuk fired back. “But to me, they are MY brothers and MY sisters! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?!”
Something about his sudden outburst seemed to take a strong effect on Jamael. Jamael could not explain it, but his resolve weakened in the wake of Kazuk’s outburst. Maybe it was the authority that came with it. Or maybe it was the sense of loyalty, conviction and determination Kazuk portrayed as Kazuk spat out the words.
“And I will strike down anyone who tries to harm a feather on their wings!” Kazuk added, not wanting to let the momentum die. “Do you understand me, Jamael?”
“Yes,” Jamael replied as if he were under some kind of trance.
“Good! Now, do you understand the story I was trying to tell you?” Kazuk asked, feeling satisfied that Jamael was already a little broken inside.
“I’m not sure,” Jamael answered.
“How did you feel when you learned that I went through a selection and testing process, but you did not?” Kazuk asked.
“Foolish, disrespected, humiliated, insulted,” Jamael said.
“Angry?”.
“Yes!”
“Furious?”
“Yes!”
“Used?”
“Yes!”
“Now you understand how I felt then!” Kazuk let his tone reflect his sentiments.
“How so?” Jamael asked. “Did you not get to meet with Michael in person? Did you not duel with him and last three moves? Did he not give you many compliments? How then could you possibly have felt what I felt?”
“Because it was all a lie!” Kazuk erupted. “It was a sham! Michael staged everything to make me feel good about myself. He wanted to make me feel important. That’s what I learned later. That’s what Luciel told me; what she confided in me!”
“Are you sure?” Jamael asked. “Because if it is the Michael that I have heard of, he would not go to such lengths just to make someone feel important. All he would have had to do would have been to just shake your hand and congratulate you on the new assignment!”
“And you are
absolutely correct,” Kazuk agreed. “But it is more than that. It is not about the assignment. It’s about the most important thing that lies within the walls of that sanctuary. In fact, it is so important that it terrifies him, but he would not let anyone else know about it.”
“Anyone else?” Jamael asked.
“Yes, anyone else,” Kazuk agreed. “Because there are some who know, and one of those is Malichiel.”
“Is it true that he now goes by Metatron?” Jamael asked with more excitement in his voice than Kazuk expected.
“Yes,” Kazuk replied dismissively. “But that’s not important right now. What is important right now is the question that I want to ask you.”
“What question would that be?” Jamael asked.
“Can I call you my brother?”
It sounded like a simple question. But this question was far from simple, and as Kazuk had expected, there was a moment of silence. He understood that Jamael may even need some moments to process the situation. Some recruits were easy, others were not so easy. But so far, Kazuk had had a one hundred percent success rate at recruitment.
“What is in it for me?” Jamael asked.
“A shot at payback to the one who insulted us both,” Kazuk replied.
“That is quite a feat you hope to accomplish,” Jamael said. “Need I remind you that you are now in Hell because she had the same intention as your do now?”
“No, you do not need to remind me,” Kazuk retorted. “But I am not here in Celestia, and I am not going to cause another rebellion. My goal is simply to eliminate the head, and the rest will follow. She failed to see this, and that was why the rebellion was bound to fail from the onset. As long as Michael is around and as long as he lives, Celestia will thrive and remain strong. But remove him from the picture….”
Kazuk left the sentence hanging.
An Archangel's Ache Page 24
