by Carol Robi
Are you crazy? My mind screams at me as the rush of air bites at my flailing body, before limbs clutch at my weightless body and stop my freefall.
When I next open my eyes, allow myself to think, I realize that legs are acrobatically holding me tight against the angel’s body, as he swings two swords with both his hands before my eyes. I curl myself into a small ball, and mold myself tighter against his body, as we swerve on either direction at extreme speed until I am so dizzy that I barely know my way up from down.
Despite all the fighting going on, I notice that we seem to be flying towards one particular direction. Every time Raphael's path is blocked, he finds a way to go around or through the opponent.
I feel the intensity of his determination, he needs to break through and move forward. It is safe ahead, his feelings seem to be saying. It is safe in the Epitome. I now note that there are no angel's behind us, but they are in front of us and to our sides, trying to stop us from advancing.
An opposing angel flies past Raphael's and Azrael's swords expertly, taking them by surprise, and swings his sword at me with such ferocity, slicing me upwards from my thigh through to the side of my stomach, though most of his blow is absorbed by Raphael's leg around my waist.
Wrenching pain courses through me, and it takes my all to try clear my head, not wanting to distract the warriors with my pain. I must keep my emotions at a minimum, I remind myself.
There are 99 green bottle standing on the wall, I begin my relaxation mantra, trying as hard as I can to compartmentalize the pain. It is too much though, the pain, and I have no idea what the next words to the rhyme are.
Raphael dives backwards, instantaneously swinging the two swords in his hands against the head of the angel that had just cut me open, beheading him with that single swing. I watch the head fall down into the darkness, as the headless body sways away blindly, just as Raphael dives back to block another blow from a second fallen angel, a little too late though. The opponent’s sword slices across his chest, missing my head by inches.
I must have a new haircut now! I think to myself, using my dry humor to distract myself from more pain than I ever thought possible, that I even don’t bother screaming. The four angels before us get bolder, and one after the other they come after me.
"Get the girl!" One shouts in their angelic language, which I understand because I am in physical contact with Raphael.
"Why?" Someone shouts from the side, her gleaming green eyes watching me intently, her sword raised menacingly.
"She is important, for some reason," their leader, or what I assume he is, says.
Two of the fallen angels now approach us from either side, and I know I am dead. I can see Azrael is struggling, blood gushing from his countless wounds as he fights off one of the angels. Another is fighting Raphael from the front, and two are approaching me from the sides.
"Taβatiγa βaγukire, Azrael narakuringire hanga. Utaγacha uβatiγe βai nauwe, iγa?" I stop in surprise upon hearing Raphael speak in my mother's vernacular fluently. Let them kill you, he says, Azrael will give you back your life. Do not let them capture you! I hesitate, thinking I must be delusional, or have misunderstood him.
“Uiγure?” Do you hear me/understand me? He asks, when I do not answer him.
“Tantebia, mbe! Βatamanyiri Iγikuria. Itaana mana kwao, na itariho hanotuβasingire,” he shouts out with frustration. Tell me if you understand me! They do not know the language. They wouldn’t have bothered to learn it as it is classified under insignificant world languages for most, and it was not in existence when we imprisoned them.
“Iγanki uraisumancha, mbe?” How comes you can speak it then? I ask puzzled.
“Nkuiγure ure, mbe?” So you do understand it, he exclaims with relief.
“Iγanki uraisumancha, mbe?” How comes you can speak it then? I repeat the question- confused, frustrated and scared out of my wits at his instructions to embrace my death.
“Nuwe ukoreiγo!” It was your doing, he claims impatiently.
"Iγanki.. Iγanki uratuna nikwe?" Why? Why should I die? I scream back at him as he swerves violently to meet a blow from the green-eyed angel with the wild red curls and a determined expression to hack my head off.
"Uwe takora iγo!" Just trust me! He shouts. My heart is ramming hard against my chest, making it hard for me to hear my thoughts, as I ponder on what I have just been told.
Am I supposed to just let myself die? Just give up? I watch one of the angels from my left swing his sword hard towards my head, not a fatal blow, for he uses the flat side of his sword. I know however that it’ll be painful, so I swerve away from it by instinct. I doubt my subconscious would let me die.
So should I die just because he’s asked me to? I puzzle over it as a robust swing sails towards me again from my right, and I am too late at swerving away this time as it slashes open my upper arm, causing me so much pain that I uncoil my tightly strung limbs.
I try to assemble myself again, but the next blow from my left tears at my dangling legs, and something unhinges sending blinding pain through my body. I feel Raphael's feet shift slightly, as he begins to let me go, and I panic, flailing my hands and just manage to clutch at his ankle.
"Please, I don't want to die!" I cry, hoping Raphael can hear my voice above the battle noises.
If he ever had an inkling of a soft bone in him, this is his chance to show me. Another stroke of blinding pain rocks me as another sword slices open my stomach area. My hand loses energy, beginning to slip away from the ankle.
"Please, Raphael, help me," I cry, as my fingers struggle to hold on, clawing at his ankle. My eyes start to shut slowly, as I fight not to fall, just managing to lock my eyes on a flat glittering sword that appears to be aiming at my neck.
I won’t be killed for a stupid cause, I think to myself defiantly.
With the last traces of energy in me, my hands still holding around Raphael’s ankle though now slippery from blood, I swing myself just in time high in the air, kicking my leg so hard as it comes into contact with the hand holding the sword.
The black as night eyes look momentarily surprised that I countered his move, but my triumph is shortly lived as a second sword swings towards my neck from the green-eyed angel.
It is too late for me to swing away this time or counter the move. My end has come. I welcome the darkness, glad that at least the excruciating pain from my injuries will be no more.
Chapter 20
“Archangel!” He calls out panicked.
“Mhh..?” She starts up disoriented, only to tense up ready for battle as her eyes fly open, radiant copper beams shining through.
“Archangel, thank goodness we caught you on time. You must revert back to her conscience soon, before Azrael comes for your soul...”
“Araqiel, Penuel? What are you two doing here in the underworld?” A puzzled Azrael asks a few moments later.
“I felt my charge die,” Penuel rushes to explain apologetically, “and I came here to ensure Samael didn’t get to her before you did. Araqiel only came as my back up,” he explains, still holding Caroline’s limp and immaculate body in his arms, though he knows she’d suffered many gruesome blows before her death.
“I can do my job just fine! Why don’t you stick to your guardianship duties from now on,” Azrael states assertively, taking the immobile body from Penuel’s arms effortlessly.
“Of course, Azrael, we apologise,” Penuel chooses to reply meekly, before moving to hold Araqiel’s hand, and they both promptly disappear, going back to earth, back to their guardianship duties.
“Time to go back, princess,” Azrael whispers into her wild hair, before they too leave the desolate underworld.
"Caroline?" A voice calls out. “Caroline, it’s time to wake up.”
“Caroline?”
"Mmh...” She starts to open her eyes, before the shock of mind wracking pain renders her unconscious again.
"Caroline?" The voice calling her seems to be coming from insi
de her head, however. An unfamiliar voice.
"Caroline! It's good you came...”
“Who... who are you?” She asks, chancing to open her eyes, only for blinding white light to send her pressing her eyelids tightly shut again.
“Oh god! I’m dead!” She cries out panicked.
“Yes, but all will be alright!” The voice echoes with benevolence, though it lacks tenderness.
“I’m dead! I’m dead...”
“Relax. Azrael has your soul now.”
“And?” She asks terrified, her voice a high pitched shriek.
“He will give you back your life.”
“Who are you?”
A sigh escapes her before she answers, “Archangel Gabriel!”
“Oh!” Is all Caroline manages to say, as shock of the incredulity of it all weighs down on her.
“As I was saying, it’s good you came. Now I can grant you what you need to be strong in your quest.”
“It's not my quest!” She manages to retort firmly.
“It is all mankind's quest...”
“It is a battle of angels against fellow angels!”
“Yes, but it is for mankind's sake.”
“I just wish you’d all leave me alone,” she implores.
“I’ll grant you some tools...”
“Can’t you pick another soul to do this...”
“Would you stop being difficult!” The voice orders firmly. “You are currently the only portal back home, the only channel of communication. I can’t risk not putting you back to life for the chance that another child born would host my consciousness so effectively.”
“What about my free will? Do I get a choice in this?”
“You’ve always had a choice. You agreed to this before you were born, you yourself chose your own destiny in this lifetime. But in the next one, if by some miracle you refuse, something you’ve never managed to do in the past thousands of lives that you’ve lived...
“Thousands!”
“..You will get the choice again,” the Archangel finishes curtly, attempting to suppress her impatience.
“I don’t understand...” A strange warmth radiates through her body right then, stopping her words mid-sentence as it sears her nerves. But the sensation is gone just as quickly as it began.
“Go back. You’re now well equipped with the necessary tools...”
“What tools?”
“Communication, the grace of perseverance, among others. Tools you’ll need for your quest...”
“I told you, it is not my quest..!”
"Caroline?"
"Caroline?"
“Why is it taking so long?”
“I don’t know. She should be back by now..”
"Caroline? Caroline!" A voice calls from somewhere in the distance.
"Caroline?"
Did I just die? I think to myself. However even just trying to think is painful, so much so that I seek the dark abyss in a certain corner of my mind and hide there. I won't leave this place, I think. I will not get out there. I don't know how long I stay there, before the voice starts calling me again.
"Caroline?"
I hear it call, sounding like it is coming from a very distant place. I don't move from my dark corner, scared of the unbearable pain any movement could create.
"Why isn't she rising?" Another voice sounds in the distance. A worried voice. "This was a terrible idea!"
"It was your idea!" Another bellows in repressed anger.
"You two shut up! Maybe she is just scared. Caroline?"
"Princess, princess open your eyes," another gentle voice calls, but I don't obey it, I don’t move, I don't let myself even think. Out there is pain, in here is calm numbness and darkness. I am not getting back out there. Instead I cocoon myself in the dark corner of my mind, creating the walls around me and making them thicker and thicker.
"She is slipping further away...”
“It’s your fault! Now we can’t go home!” A sound like a loud clang of swords meeting angrily ensues, right after the sounds of powerful wings snapping open.
"You said you’d bring her back!" Another voice accuses, before the sounds of steel meeting steel over and over again continues.
"I assumed she’d want to come back! I did not think she would embrace her death!"
"Stop you two. Stop this instance!" A different voice calls frantically. "You are acting like cherubs! We need to put our heads together and come up with a solution!"
“Caroline, get out now!” The one with the cold blue eyes grinds out with impatience. “Get out now, or I’ll hurt you so bad, you’ll beg me to stop!”
The grave threat paralyses me with fear, but the memory of the excruciating pain awaiting me beyond the walls I’ve created in my mind prevails.
Chapter 21
"She is human," the voice I know to belong to the green-eyes with golden speckles speaks up again. "Threaten her where it hurts most, and maybe I can bring her back."
"Threaten her with what?"
"Her humanity. Whomever she loves most."
No! I moan to myself in my dark corner, hugging my arms tight around my knees and pressing my eyes tightly shut.
"I have seen her with a certain brunette girl many times, we could threaten her." I choke back tears as I hear the voice I know to belong to the beautiful bronze-winged one.
How could she suggest such a thing? I thought I knew her, that she’s my friend, but clearly they are all cold-hearted pragmatists who only pretend to care about me.
"What about her father?" The voice I know belongs to the brown-eyed one speaks up.
"Or her mother. I know where she is. I’ve overheard their conversations," the unmistakable sound of the blue-eyed one rings out.
"Or both of them," the green-eyed one says.
"Yes, good." Raphael confirms. "Cassiel, bring me that map. Travel to this point, there are a few villages in the area. Ask them for the teacher, Weigesa is her name. They all know her. Bring her back with you."
No! I think, but no one hears me. No don't you dare!
"Ambriel, you know where to find her father," the cold voice continues. Bring him!"
I immediately jump up. I can't let them hurt my family, my friends! I begin clawing at the walls I’ve built in my mind. Screaming out to the angels to stop, but they do not hear me. My walls are strong, and hard to demolish. My nails start bleeding, or maybe they just do in my mind- but it hurts just the same. The grit from the walls I am clawing at stick into my fingernails as I claw on like one possessed, until I create enough room to squeeze myself through.
“Careful, Caroline. Don’t step all the way out.. Damnation!”
"No...!" I moan out groggily.
"Hush now... Don't move" I obey the command without any protest, for any kind of movement is sending sharp stabs of pain up and down my body.
"She is back!" Azrael's annoying voice announces happily. I instinctively clench my hands into fists, wishing that I could sucker punch him right about now, but the motion sends waves and waves of excruciating pain through me, that I’m forced to take a step back again into the dark corner. There is just too much pain out there.
“She’s gone again...”
“All be damned!”
"Caroline, dear?" Uriel's honeyed voice calls out to me. “You have to come out here, you have to let your soul rise.”
She threatened A.M. I remind myself angrily. They are all ruthless monsters, despite their honeyed voices and angelic looks. There is nothing about angels that is sweet and loving. It is all about pragmatism and the end game. How many times do I have to remind myself of that?
“Caroline? Are you in a dark corner? If so, just step out to the light first,” Azrael’s voice says with concern, concern I remind myself not to bank on.
“Just to the light, no further,” Azrael repeats. I remain put.
“Go get her parents if she won’t...” Raphael’s impassive voice starts.
"Don't. Hurt. My. Parents!" I rush t
o grind out between my teeth when I step out into the light as Azrael instructed, only this time I don’t meet the pain I expected. Just numbness.
"She is back!" Ariel's voice exclaims, as he envelops me in a hug. I brace myself for the excruciating pain, but surprise myself at its absence. I pry open my eyes, squinting at the bright light beam pointing at my face. I loll my head to my side to try avoid the light.
"Shut off the light, Uriel!" Raphael's voice calls, and I am glad for his consideration when the beam goes off, leaving other softer sources of light to illuminate the room.
My eyes adjust slowly, and I make out the familiar stone walls from their cave. The smooth stone floor below is covered with pools of blood around the table I am lying on. It is the dining table we’d sat around and drunk tea like normal people.
Then I make the mistake of looking at my body. My face freezes with horror when I see the large open gash across my stomach, revealing my insides. A better inspection reveals large cuts and gashes on my limbs and the weird angle at which my right leg faces. I then note to my horror that my neck is placed awkwardly to my body. Is it detached? No, but it is slightly dislodged, so it must have been hacked at. How can it be that I am alive then? How can it be that I feel no pain?
"What’s happening to me?" I croak alarmed.
"You are still dead," Azrael says with a shrug, the golden speckles in his green eyes gleaming as he looks back down at me.
“Oh my god...”
“So you’re a human of faith..!” Azrael began with a chuckle.
“Be compassionate, Azrael,” Raphael said sharply, and the angel of death feigned a demure face instantly, though his eyes still gleamed sardonically, betraying his true emotions.
"We’ve been trying for hours to retrieve your soul, princess. You fought hard against coming back, and the times you did come, you stepped too soon into consciousness, and the pain shocked you back."
"I feel no pain...” I whisper bewildered.
He nods patiently before responding. “Yes, you finally listened to my instructions and only stepped as far as the light,” he says, the whisper of a cheeky smile at the corner of his lips, disregarding my obviously horrified state. “Now hopefully you won’t be shocked by your body’s pain when you step the whole way out...”