Sentinels of Creation: A Power Renewed

by Robert W. Ross

  Lamia frowned and stopped moving towards him, eyes turning to the deadly ice, and held up a hand placatingly. There was a soft splash as they all returned to water falling back into the stream.

  “I ask you three times, who—will— Asmodeus—kill?”

  “I already told you,” she replied, voice hard! “You didn’t believe me.”

  “Your babies?”

  She nodded.

  “You have children?” he asked, a bit surprised.

  Another nod. “Three. Two girls and a boy.”

  “How—” Kellan began…

  “Do I really need to explain these things to you, mighty Sentinel? You seem old enough to know how and where babies come from.”

  Kellan flushed and she smiled wickedly, but he didn’t feel her direct any effects towards him. Her smile faded and she continued, “Asmodeus killed their father, my husband, Taliesin, and stole them from me. He promised to return them unharmed if I served him for one thousand years and a day without fail. I was sent to kill you and if you still live when my time of service ends—my children will die.”

  “We’ll see about that. How many years have you served him so far?”

  “999 years, 342 days.”

  “Oh, wow, that totally sucks. You were less than a month from being done and he laid this one on you. Bad timing, Lamia.”

  She glared at him with undisguised hatred. “You would mock my pain, Sentinel?”

  “What? No? I’m serious. Really bad timing—or really good timing on Asmodeus’ part. Still, we have 23 days to figure this out. Do you know where he is holding your kids?”

  “Why?”

  “Well, maybe I can get them back for you.”

  “Why would you do that?” she asked with a sneer.

  “Because stealing someone’s kids and holding them for a 1000 year ransom is a serious dick move and I don’t abide dick moves—that’s all.”

  She laughed bitterly. “You can’t help a demon, Kellan Thorne.”

  “Really, why not?”

  Lamia seemed momentarily at a loss for words then answered, “Because, you are God’s Sentinel. His unchecked hand upon the world. You kill demons. It’s what you do.”

  “Well, maybe I’m just a kinder, gentler Sentinel who only kills the demons that need killing. The question then is: are you that kind of demon, Lamia?”

  The two stared at each other for long moments and when she finally broke the silence, Kellan heard her voice crack, thick with emotion as she pressed both hands to her stomach and sank to the ground. “I just want my children.”

  Lamia looked up and her face was a mask of grief. This was not the recent loss of a friend or loved one. No, this was deeper, broader, and more engrained. As Kellan stared at her, he had flashes of insight come unbidden to his mind. Images, scents, and sounds—a cacophony of disparate information from which he gleaned a single, crystal clear insight. Every aspect of the being that now knelt before him radiated vast sadness and emotional trauma so powerful that Kellan felt himself stumble back at its all encompassing nature. She continued, “I fell with the other Angels and am forever damned I suppose. I don’t even really know what being damned means, but I wanted no part of this endless war between Order and Chaos. However, those stronger than me held sway.” Her eyes became wistful and she closed them, lowering her head, “I am a cliche’,” she sighed, “The demon who sought to cause a man to fall and, instead, fell herself. I loved Taliesin, my beautiful bard for he could play the strings of my heart better than ever did he play those of a lute, and his skill with the lute brought beggars and kings to tears of joy. I bore him three beautiful children, two girls and a boy, each with a spirit as filled with light as my Tal. I loved him. I loved my children. I loved them all and someday I will have their stories told. But this story is not a fairy tale and its words are written on pages dark as pitch because Asmodeus found me and,” she waved her hands, “this nightmare began.” Her voice became hard and she rose to her feet, taking a step toward Kellan, eyes beginning to glow red. “Do you think I want to serve the Angel responsible for killing the man I loved, who stole my children, and who has used mythology to paint me as a monster who consumes the innocent? All this I suffer for the sin of simply wanting freewill and thus being cast down. All this for the freewill that is showered upon you humans and which is protected, for you, regardless of cost. So, judge me now, for that is what you Sentinels do; That is what Micah did. You judge and execute.”

  Kellan stood firm, stared into those flaming eyes without flinching, and spoke softly, voice filled with sadness and empathy. “I came to love Micah in a very short time, but I am not he. I will not judge you beyond knowing your pain is real and holds no glamor.” Kellan shook his head slowly and continued, “No, Lamia, I do not think you wanted any of this at all.” Instantly the heat went out of her and she slumped, staring back at him in disbelief.

  “You—are an enigma, Sentinel Kellan.”

  “Yeah, I actually get that a lot from women. Nice to know it applies to female demons too. It’s a gift.”

  She looked at him for a long moment, then laughed. It was a strong laugh— good, pure, and bright. It rang off trees, stone, and grass. Kellan saw its cathartic nature and found his laughter joining with hers. After long moments, her laughter and smiles faded into a contented sigh and she sobered. “You cannot save them. It’s not like they are held captive in a cave or a tower waiting for a heroic, if delusional, Sentinel to come rescue them. Asmodeus is an Archangel, a fallen one to be sure, but an Archangel nonetheless. He holds them in a pocket universe of his own creation; they are bound there by his very life force. So long as he lives, they cannot escape and none can reach them unless he wills it.”

  Kellan hummed to himself. “Pocket universe? You mean like the workroom?”

  Lamia started, eyes going wide. “God’s workroom?”

  “Yeah…” Kellan replied, curious at her response.

  “You’ve been there?”

  “Sure. Micah trained me there. I’m not particularly fond of it. No birds. I like birds.”

  She grabbed Kellan by both shoulders, staring up at him urgently, “Can you get back there?”

  Wow she is so strikingly beautiful. I’d really like to—

  “Hey!” Kellan yelled pushing, her back. “I thought we were past that. You just tried to whammy me again.”

  Lamia held up her hands. “No, no I didn’t. Well, not intentionally. Sometimes it just leaks out when I’m excited.”

  Kellan narrowed his eyes. “Ok, but I’m watching you. To your question, yes, I can get back there easily. Why is that important?”

  Lamia had begun pacing. “I can’t believe this. This could actually be possible.” She realized Kellan was just staring at her uncomprehendingly. “Asmodeus was not in God’s workroom, Kellan. No fallen Angel can ever go there on their own. The last one to ever be there was Lucifer; that was right after the fall and only because God took him there. The pocket universe to which I referred is but a pale shadow of the workroom.”

  Kellan was nodding. “Ok, so I just need to go to his B-grade pocket universe, spring your kids, and bob’s your uncle.”

  Lamia stared at him, then shook her head. “What? What are you saying? No, don’t try to explain. You cannot go there. It’s impossible. You’re only hope is to collapse it which would cause my children to be freed.”

  Kellan shrugged, “Collapse it, enter it—whatever works. So how do I collapse it?”

  Lamia’s eyes grew large and she shook her head, speaking very slowly, “There’s only one way to collapse it.”

  Kellan laughed, copying the cadence of her speech, “And that is? Out with it, demon.”

  She didn’t smile, but rather leaned in closely and placed a soft kiss on Kellan’s ear. His eyes grew wide as insight flashed into his mind.

  “Holy shit! I’ve got to—”

  Lamia placed a finger on his lips. “No. Never out loud.” She stepped back again, looking dejected. “I k
now…it’s impossible, reckless, and stupid.”

  Kellan closed the distance between them, took her face in his hands, and looked down. “Lamia, you are my favorite demon, and here’s a secret you can take to the netherworld. I specialize in the impossible, reckless, and stupid— especially the stupid.”

  She raised her hands, wrapping them around his, tears flowing down her cheeks even as she gave a relieved half laugh. “I’m your only demon.” Then she raised up on her toes, kissing his lips and lingering there for the span for three heartbeats. Kellan knew it was a more sincere and chaste kiss than any he’d received since those placed by his own mother long ago.

  She settled back on the soles of her feet, still staring into his eyes. “Amy. Call me Amy. It’s what Taliesin called me and the only name more precious to me is the one you are helping me to hear again.” Her voice became a whisper nearly swallowed by the soft gurgling of the nearby stream, “Mama.”

  Kellan shot up, eyes blazing to life, as the icy water shocked him awake, sputtering even as dark clouds gathered overhead charged with electrical energy.

  “Jesus, Shannon, what the hell!”

  The young woman stood before him, face a thunderhead to match those above, one hand on hip and the other holding an earthen pitcher darkened by smoke and cracked by heat. Her flaming red hair had begun to rise slightly before Kellan became aware enough to dispel the lightning clouds he had caused to form.

  “What,” she began, eyes narrowed to mere slits, “do you think you were doing?”

  Kellan had slid back down against the massive tree where he had found a soft, mossy spot between its roots to nap. He looked up at her exasperated. “You know, Shannon, this…” he waved at her, “is a good reason why I am not married.” He felt power course through him in response to what seemed to be an almost reflexive reaction to the pitcher she hurled at his head. It shattered against a shimmering shield, shards of clay falling harmlessly to the ground.

  “Like any sane woman would have you!” She pointed to his right and he turned to look at the smoking ruin of Micah’s cottage.

  Kellan sighed. “I had a rough night.”

  Shannon stared at him, sputtering, but no words came.

  Kellan clapped. “You’re speechless? Well, now that I know the trick to that, I just need to find a steady supply of houses to burn down.”

  “You idiot! You know nothing,” she sobbed as she turned, running back toward the ruined cottage, leaving Kellan in bemused silence.

  A few minutes later he had walked up the gentle hill to find Shannon silently poking through the charred remains, picking up the few recognizable things that had miraculously survived the fire, and placing them gently in a pile.

  “I am an idiot,” he said softly from behind her. She stiffened but didn’t turn.

  “He was like a second father to me, and this was all I had left of him.”

  “I know. I’m an—”

  “Idiot. Yes, we’ve established that.”

  Kellan remained silent and she finally turned to him, eyes red with tears.

  “It’s not about the things really. It’s about the place. We had so many good times here, my brothers and me. And then there’s this,” she said, holding out her hands which held a small blackened object.

  “What is it?” Kellan asked softly.

  Shannon sighed. “What was it you mean. Nothing important—just a box we made for Micah. All of us. The boys found the wood and carved it. I created the inlay and stained it. Then we each brought him little things from time to time. Treasures, he called them. They were all in this little box and now their gone, just like him.”

  Kellan felt sick. “I’m sorry Shannon. I really am.”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you or,” she paused, “tried to kill you with a pitcher to the head. What happened?”

  “C’mon. Walk with me and I’ll tell you.”

  A few minutes later, the two found themselves down by the stream, Kellan having related the night’s events, with some notable exceptions dealing with Asmodeus. She patted the large boulder. “So, it’s Shannon’s Rock now, is it?”

  “It is, indeed.”

  “Well, every girl needs a big rock to sit on, I think,” she said absently, picking up the charred remains of Micah’s box that she had gently laid at the base of the stone. “I think I’m going to let the stream take this and then I can pretend that it’s flowing to meet him somewhere.” She smiled sadly, “I just wish I could go back in time and save it from the fire; I should have taken it home with me yesterday. It’s really my fault that I didn’t. Stupid really…I kind of wanted it to stay there as if he were coming home to look through it.”

  Shannon knelt down, reaching out to set the blackened wood adrift in the crystal clear water as it splashed past, but Kellan placed a hand on her arm.

  “Just a moment—something you said. You just stay here and keep your rock company. I’m going to try something…”

  “Stupid?” she asked, only half joking.

  Kellan cocked his head, speaking slowing, “I…don’t think so. At least not very stupid on the official Kellan scale of stupidity, but I suppose we’ll find out shortly.”

  “Delightful. What exactly are you…” Shannon trailed off as she saw Kellan’s eyes begin to glow brightly and he held up a hand. She took that to mean that he couldn’t be disturbed.

  A shimmering oval rotated into view in front of him and he leaped through, snapping it shut behind him, and leaving her alone by the stream.

  Only a few minutes had past when the sound of feet crunching on dried leaves drew Shannon’s attention and she saw Kellan walking toward her with a very self-satisfied look on his face.

  “You look very pleased with yourself,” she said warily. “What did you do, Kellan Thorne, and what are you are holding behind your back?”

  Without a word, Kellan gave his best sweeping arm flourish with his free hand as he knelt before her, and held out his other hand, “For you Milady.”

  Shannon drew a quick breath as she saw what he held, eyes misting over as they took in the small, intricately inlayed oak box.

  “How?”

  “You wished to go back in time,” Kellan smiled. “I made it so.”

  “But, I still have the ruined one,” she said reaching for the small blackened object resting at her feet. As her fingers touched it, the ruined box wavered a moment and broke apart like motes of dust. “Magic,” she whispered.

  “Science,” Kellan replied as she accepted the pristine box from him, “Well, science’ish. The ruined box represented a paradox so it couldn’t exist for long since there can only be one reality, and I made that reality the one with,” he pointed to her, “that box in it.”

  “Paradox?” she said, sounding out letters as if they were thick on her tongue.

  “Yeah, like when I made that portal back to yesterday. I had to sneak past the two of us, get into the cottage, swipe the box and then hope you didn’t notice it was missing.” Kellan paused, thoughtful. “Hmmm, I wonder if the reason you didn’t think to take the box with you last night was because I had already stolen, it and it wasn’t there to remind you. And I guess I really needn’t have tried to be so stealthy because surely if either one of us had caught sight of another “me” sneaking about we would remember it. So since we didn’t remember it then I didn’t get caught—which means I didn’t even need to sneak.”

  Kellan smiled triumphantly. “See! Science—ish”

  Shannon looked at him blankly. “Do you actually understand what you just said? It makes my head hurt.”

  Kellan waved her thought away. “Timey wimey, wiblly wobbly…don’t worry about it; just enjoy your treasure box.”

  Shannon had it open and poked about with a finger, smiling to herself then looked up with moist eyes. “I will, Kellan. I really will.” Then she closed the distance between them and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you—so much!”

  “Twern’t nuthin but—
listen, Shannon. Part of what happened last night made it pretty clear to me that,” Kellan waved his hand around, “this time, was just a pit stop for me. I have to get back to my own timeline.”

  Shannon lowered her eyes. “Eight hundred years from now, when I’m long dead.”

  “Stop,” Kellan said lifting, her chin with two fingers so he could look at her, and pointed toward her eyes with his other hand. “Don’t forget those sparkly peepers you have, Miss McLeod. Micah said we’d be meeting again in my time and that guy, he’s as straight an arrow as they come. Annoyingly so sometimes, but, point being, if he said we’ll be meeting up it’s because Raphael told him so and that Angel, while being twice as uptight as Micah, cannot even tell a lie if he wanted to.”

  “But when?” she asked, “What do I do now, and what if I need your help?”

  Kellan finally saw the young part of this young woman. He put both hands around her shoulders, grasping them reassuringly. “Shannon, you are a true badass.”

  She pulled back slightly, frowning.

  “No, no…it’s a good thing,” he continued, “It means you are tough and can handle anything life throws at you.

  However,” Kellan tapped his temple, “remember, we have this thing going on now, and I’m absolutely sure that if either of us needs the other, we’ll find a way to get there. Have some faith—”

  She laughed, “Says God’s Sentinel with the seductive demon friend.”

  “I never said she was seductive.”

  Shannon looked at him flatly once again, assuming a posture older than her years. “Kellan, you didn’t have to. It was obvious.”

  “Oh, really? Oh, well…that doesn’t matter. As I told you, I’m not going to prejudge people, demons, or whatever. Once they prove themselves to be douche canoes, then I’ll kill ‘em. As for you and what you do now, well, you live your life. Have fun, take care of your family, grow up a bit and live a little. It’s all stretched out before you, Shannon. Life is a giant adventure and you are just the gal to grab it by the horns and kick its ass”