Sentinels of Creation: A Power Renewed

by Robert W. Ross

  “Did he have wings?” asked Liam

  “He did,” answered Micah. “They weren’t visible at first, but when the Angel spoke they unfurled. They were big, beautiful and brilliant white. As you might expect, Tholem was desperately afraid at this point staring up at a large, glowing, greened eyed Angel with flowing wings. But the Angel spoke softly, telling him not to be afraid and that it was his honor to meet the young man. Then he reminded Tholem that he had not yet fully paid for his meal and fire.”

  “The question?” asked Shannon.

  “The question,” answered Micah.

  “The Angel asked if he would be the Sentinel, didn’t he?”

  Micah paused and looked at Raphael, then back to Shannon. “You are quite the clever one - very insightful. Yes, Shannon, that is exactly what the Angel asked of Tholem.”

  “And he obviously said yes,” said Donal.

  “Actually,” began Raphael, “he said, ‘no.’ Or, more precisely, he said ‘not yet.’”

  “Wow,” said Donal.

  “Yes, so the Angel asked what more Tholem needed to know in order to make his decision. The young man wanted to know what would happen if the wrong person were chosen and how might that occur. Well, that gave the Angel pause and then after a long moment he answered. He told Tholem that the wrong person would allow power to corrupt him, to make him prideful, and to allow him to think that he could be as God simply because he had a portion of God’s power. If that happened, the Angel warned, then the Sentinel could turn his back on God, choose to ally with His adversary, and upend the very throne of heaven.”

  “Wow,” said Donal again.

  “That was a good question to ask,” said Shannon.

  “Yes, it was the perfect question to ask,” said Raphael, “and it made the Angel all the more certain that Tholem was the right choice.”

  “And,” began Micah, “It was a good answer, because that answer would shape all the future decisions Tholem would make. He knew he had to avoid the temptations brought on by power and live as purely as possible. If he had a piece of God’s power within him, he would need to honor that by living a life that was always pleasing to God.”

  “No, Micah,” said Raphael causing the old man to turn and stare. “As you said, you have not heard how the story ends and since I have, I can tell you with complete certainty that the answer given by this Angel was gravely wrong.”

  A long moment passed with only the sounds of birds and insects to be heard. Then Micah said very slowly, “Gravely wrong? What exactly do you mean by, gravely wrong?”

  Raphael looked pained as he stared at the older man. “Angels are not perfect and while they cannot lie, they can make mistakes. This Angel was living with the pain of betrayal and his hands were awash with the blood of his brothers from a war that had, as its core, pride and power. But Tholem was not an Angel; he was a man. Angels are either light or dark; there are no gradations, but it is not so with man. Man is a complex weave of light and dark constantly warring for dominion. By giving the answer he did, the Angel thought of Tholem as if he were an Angel and not a man. A man must be free to struggle against his inner demons to reach his full potential. He must risk destruction in order to grow strong enough to choose its avoidance. This Angel set Tholem on a path that would forever avoid such temptations and thus stole from him the ability to overcome them. This Angel, with his answer, not only was gravely wrong, but also did a grave disservice to Tholem. God never intended his Sentinel to be a priest like Micah or a perfectly obedient servant like the Angel. God needed his Sentinel to see into the dark places and risk all to bring His light to them. This Angel, for all his good intentions, failed to properly prepare his Sentinel for the tasks ahead and compounded that failure by not recognizing the need to correct an error he did not know he had made.

  Micah felt chilled to his very soul as he stared at Raphael. “What are you saying, Raphael? Was this experiment all for naught? Was this Sentinel’s life lived throughout the ages without purpose or effect?”

  Raphael reached out to place a hand on Mica’s shoulder. “Peace my friend. No, that is not the lesson of this story. Children, as you must know by now, Tholem was satisfied with the Angel’s answer and accepted the burden he offered. Tholem did great honor to the task before him, never once straying from a path that would have been pleasing to God. He served as a stalwart defender of the light and thwarted numerous attempts by the Adversary to exact untold hardships on the world. He ended wars, avoided others, changed the course of plagues, and fearlessly entered the very bowels of the earth to extract righteous justice on demons who had harried the mortal world. No, this Sentinel was all that is good and fine in the world. And, without Tholem having lived the life he did, the Angel would never have recognized the error of his initial instruction. This first Sentinel lived his entire life outside the sight of God, but when his task was finished and all his deeds laid out, I am completely certain he was welcomed home as a good and faithful servant.

  “Wait,” said Shannon, “You said ‘this first Sentinel,’” and talked about Tholem as if he were gone.

  “Of course,” said Micah, “You have heard the saying, ‘for everything there is a season.’”

  “A time to be born and a time to die?” asked Shannon.

  Raphael nodded. “How cruel would it be to ask someone to shoulder a burden, live outside the site of his creator, and do so for all time? Yes, there came a time for Tholem to set down his burden without betraying his responsibility. As with all things, it was his choice to lay it down. This Sentinel could have held tight to his power, allowing it to grow within him as he continued to live. His adversary made that choice; he refused to give up his power to another. In our story, though, Tholem made a different choice: he set out on one last journey that took him far from all he had known. You see, the Angel had learned his lesson and knew he could not be trusted with choosing Tholem’s successor. The Sentinel had all the strengths and weaknesses of man and thus must be chosen by man.”

  “So, Tholem found his successor and passed on his power?” asked Liam.

  “I think,” said Micah softly, “that is probably another story entirely. And one that will certainly take us past when your father will be expecting you home.”

  “When can we come back to hear that part of the story?” asked Liam.

  “Yes, will Raphael be staying with you a while so we can come back next week and hear?” asked Donal.

  Shannon looked first at Micah and then to Raphael. “I believe Father Mica and Raphael are going to be traveling for a bit. I’ll try and convince them to let me know more about the story while I clean up the mess you’ve both made. Go home now, and please tell papa I’ll be home by sundown.”

  Shannon had employed her “mother” voice. The two boys reacted by instinct - gathering their things and giving hugs to Micah and firm handshakes to Raphael. Moments later they were gone and Shannon quietly gathered up an armful of cups and headed into the cottage.

  Micah looked to Raphael. “What just happened?”

  “I am not exactly sure. I have a sense that...” he cut off as the girl emerged from the cottage to complete her cleaning off of the table. She gave an innocuous smile to each of them as she disappeared back into the cottage.

  “You have a sense of what?”

  “I said I was not sure...just an odd feeling. How old is she?”

  “I don’t know; she’s a girl. Do you remember how old I am, Raphael? I haven’t been able to judge peoples’ ages in centuries. Wait, no, I do remember something. Her father mentioned it the other day. She’s 14; she just turned 14. Why?”

  Raphael thought a moment. “Where were you 14 years ago? What were you doing?”

  “What? I don’t know. Why do you...What are you implying?”

  Raphael had been staring off into the distance thinking, when Micah rounded on him. “Hmm? Oh. No...no, Micah I was not implying that. It is just that the girl seems to have an impression of things.” Raphael’s br
ow furrowed as he sought to find the right words and then just shook his head sighing slightly. “From the very beginning she asked questions and had insights that I found a bit...unique. These things happen from time to time, generally it is because the child was conceived at the same time as some unifying event. So, for example, if you had saved some village from destruction by turning floodwaters to ice at the moment of her conception, she might feel cold when around you. Sometimes these things are subtle and sometimes not.”

  “Well, let me think,” began Micah absently running his hand through the tangle of his beard. “I’ve been living here about eight years now. Four years before that was the situation down south with those demonic insect creatures. Did you even know about that? I called to you about that too. You, of course, didn’t answer.”

  “Micah, please, concentrate now, castigate me later. She will be coming out soon and we need to figure this out; this could put her in danger.”

  “Fine. Two years before that? Nothing really. Nothing out of the ordinary for me anyway - which does leave a fair bit for space for strange things. Well, there was something odd with my ring, but that wasn’t very...”

  Raphael grabbed Micah’s wrist. “Your ring. The ring I gave you when you accepted the power? What happened to it?”

  “Yes, that ring. It’s the only ring I have, Raphael. Well, you know how it glows when certain things are going on - use of power, danger nearby, all sorts of things. By the way, figuring all that out was none too easy either. It would have been helpful if you-”

  “Micah!”

  “Fine. Well, it had been getting consistently dimmer over the years, and really noticeably over the past hundred.”

  “Yes, that was an indication that the time was coming for you to decide if you wanted to set aside this power.”

  Micah narrowed his eyes at Raphael. “Again...would have been good to know. Anyway, one night, and I’m sure it was almost thirteen years ago, that ring grew warm to the touch and went bright as your eyes the night you gave it to me. It stayed that way for several solid minutes and then went back to normal.”

  Raphael got up and started pacing, ran his hand down his face and crouched down before Micah. “This is important! What were you doing when it glowed like that? What exactly were you doing and what were you thinking?”

  “I was sleeping. I wasn’t doing anything. Dreaming, I guess.”

  “Do you remember what you were dreaming about?”

  Micah didn’t answer.

  “Micah?”

  “Yes, it hadn’t happened in a long long time. I was dreaming of my family. The family I never had. The wife I never had. The daughter I never had. I woke up in tears and then the ring started glowing.”

  “Merciful God!” Raphael shouted his countenance growing dark, “That is it. This is not good at all. They are going to try to use her - to kill her.”

  “What? Wait. What are you talking about?”

  “It is complicated and I do not even fully understand it. I am guessing some of it. You are the first, Micah. I do not have all the answers. I clearly have made mistakes and I am sorry for that. But as this cycle came around and you drew closer to the point where you could set aside the power, you became...I am not sure how to put it...closer to your original humanity. Those very human wants combined with your approaching mortality and current power left an imprint.”

  Micah shook his head and waved upraised hands toward Raphael. “Wait. What? I might have understood half of that. An imprint of what...on what”

  “Not on what - on who. On her. Your deep want and deep love for the daughter you never had reached out through your power. You were not fully in control. While you were asleep, it reached out into the guff and imprinted itself on the soul that left to become Shannon at the moment of her conception. She is your daughter.”

  Micah barked a mirthless laugh. “I’m pretty sure her father would disagree on that point.”

  “Not your physical daughter - on a spiritual level. She is connected to you and she will be connected to him, through you. Which is why they will want to use her.”

  “Him who?”

  “Your successor, if you chose to make it so. She will be connected to him through you. So, through her, they can get to your successor when he first accepts the power and is at his most vulnerable.”

  “For God’s sake, Raphael, you know who the man is! I thought you were saying I was supposed to find him.”

  “It is your choice, Micah. I found someone who I think is right, but I do not trust myself to decide and I am certainly not the right person to ask him. You will need to do both.”

  “This is a lot to take in. Even for me.”

  “I am sorry.”

  “You’ve been saying that a lot today.”

  Raphael looked down and said nothing. Micah looked at him and tapped him softly on the head, causing the Angel to look up.

  “I love you, Raphael. I know that even when you didn’t come, you heard me. I felt you with me even when I could not see you. We are a team, you and I. We always were.”

  Raphael looked at Micah. “I wanted to come, but you were not sure if I should. You were conflicted that if I came, it would upset some balance somewhere and cause worse problems. Your concerns became mine and I stayed away. I’m sor-”

  “Don’t say it again, please. You’re right. You were right about everything. Maybe I was the best person for the task when I took it up, but I’m not anymore. You need someone who is not afraid of what they might become. You need someone more aggressive than I have ever been with you. Someone who, when they call you, the sound of their voice is still echoing off the mountains by the time your heavenly self is standing in front of him. And I’m tired, Raphael. I’m so tired.”

  Raphael embraced Micah and whispered, “I know. I feel it. One last task my Sentinel and you will be free.”

  Micah gave a humorless laugh. “One? What about my daughter in there? She seems like quite the task as well. I can’t have my darker reflection coming after an innocent who is only in danger because I dreamed a dream that could not be.”

  “You dreamed a dream that is, my friend. She will be safe. We will make sure she is safe. I will watch over her as long as she lives.” Raphael stared at Micah with eyes blazing as they had that night so many centuries ago. “I promise you.”

  Micah nodded. “Ok, let’s go in and see what she knows.”

  Shannon felt the pressure change in the room as the door to the cottage opened. The two men entered without making a sound. She gave no sign that she knew they were there, just continued to wipe down the cups and plates, putting them away without a backwards glance.

  She pictured where they stood behind her: first together then, walking a couple paces away on either side of the small table.

  Silence. She continued to wipe the plate in her hands.

  One of them, Micah she thought, slid a chair rather loudly. She raised an eyebrow at the clumsy attempt to get her attention. She ignored it.

  Moments passed. She continued to wipe and was down to her last plate.

  Another chair, even more loudly.

  “I hear you and I hate being lied to. You know how much I hate it, Micah. I hated it when my father lied to me about Mother and I like it no better when you do it.”

  Silence.

  “I assume you both are simply staring at each other.”

  Finally, Micah spoke. “Shannon, I really have no idea-”

  “Lies!” She whirled and there was a flash of silver extending from her outstretched hand.

  “Shannon! What has gotten into you, child?”

  She simply stared at Micah, flaming red hair all tousled about her face. A look of anger and determination set there, and her light brown eyes focused on his.

  “Why don’t you ask what’s gotten into your friend?”

  Micah turned to find Raphael standing just as he had been by the second chair, but with a throwing knife buried to its hilt in the center of his chest. Mica
h stared at the Angel and turned to Shannon, speechless.

  “I want that back,” said Shannon flatly.

  “An impressive throw under normal circumstances, but with your back fully towards me,” Raphael shook his head as he grasped the knife hilt and removed it from his chest. The blade glowed brightly for a moment as if it were awash in starlight then faded to its normal metallic hue. There was no blood. “Really, quite remarkable,” said Raphael smiling.

  “Thank you. I still want it back.”

  “You want it back?”

  “Yes, it was my mothers.” Shannon paused and her voice pitched lower as she stared into the Angel’s impassive eyes and growled, “I want it back, now!”

  Raphael’s eyes flashed as he the twirled the knife and, to Micah’s utter horror, flipped it in a blur toward the young girl.

  Instinctually, Micah reached inward and grasped the torrent of power even as his armor shone through its disguise. He groaned with effort as he bent time, slowing it, but Raphael was so fast. The knife was half-way across the room, moving in slow motion. He moved toward it but knew he would be too late.

  He screamed. This could not be happening. This had to be a nightmare, but then he saw her start to shift her weight. First, she turned her face sideways, red hair slowly flying, as she kept her left eye on the blade. Then, the slightest movement of foot and chest. Micah couldn’t breathe, but even as he realized the knife would pass her by, Shannon’s right hand swooped up in a blur. It was impossible to move that fast with time bent as it was.

  He released the power and time snapped back. Shannon deftly scooped the knife out of the air twirled it three times about her fingers, and slipped it back up her sleeve.

  “Thank you,” she said, and walked toward the table.

  “Oh my God!” shouted Micah. “Are you both completely out of your minds? Shannon, what were you thinking? You would have killed him!”