by Roy Bright
“Hello, my dear old friend,” Jesus says, with a warm and inviting smile. “It has been a very long time.”
Sixteen
Loud footsteps echo as a black-suited Archangel Michael strides down the corridor, flanked by his two lieutenants, Raphael and Samael, who are dressed the same. The hem of his dark overcoat flaps against his trousers as he moves with the determination and purpose of a senior military official. He is the leader of Hellwatch, an order of Archangels tasked with the defense of the White Kingdom and maintaining the status quo between demons and angels. Chosen by Gabriel himself and in charge for ten millennia, his courage, loyalty, and ferocity in battle is matched only by his compassion, reason, and the strength of his love. When it comes to the art of war, only tenth level demons are capable of standing toe-to-toe with him in combat.
Michael’s summoning (an order reserved for only the most important of occasions) has bolstered him, as on the face of it the Apocalypse appears to have been contained, with his team now ready to support The Light on her journey to heal the realm of man. However, as he marches toward the antechamber he senses that something else, something big, might be on the horizon and he is eager to find out what it could be.
Samael smiles, running his fingers through his thick long hair. He speaks with a gruff, gravel-like tone. “So, whaddya reckon? Babysitting duty or ass-kicking time?”
Raphael smirks and looks toward his compatriot, “You spend far too much time in the realm of man, Sammy. Must you talk so?”
Raphael is in stark contrast to his partner. Where Samael, the Angel of Death, is Viking-like, strong, and brutish, Raphael carries himself with much more elegance and finesse, his attire reflecting these values. He moved up in rank to lieutenant when Michael took over as leader and both he and Samael share a unique bond, forever pecking at each other to get the upper hand or outdo the other in contest, as great friends often do.
Samael laughs, “C’mon man, this is 2014 not the dawn of time, we should embrace modern culture and reasoning and not treat it the same as some bullshit ‘forbidden fruit’ story.”
“Oh, here we go again,” Raphael quips, rolling his eyes, “A rambly rant about man’s interpretation of life and the whole Eden thing.”
“Hey pretty boy, it’s not a rant okay? They just get on my nerves when they mess with a tale and get it so wrong. Why do they always have to be making stuff up or changing the whole context of a story, huh? All I’m saying is that they should, even now, start to get some of their damn facts straight.”
“Gentlemen,” Michael says, his voice commanding, “we are about to enter the highest ranked room in the kingdom, I suggest you conduct yourself accordingly and watch how you speak.”
Samael smirks, “Yes boss.”
Raphael bows, “Of course sir.”
“Of course sir,” Samael says, mocking Raphael, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Michael stops and stares at him, his eyes burning. “Are you deliberately trying to antagonize me right now?”
The berating from his Commander subdues him, and he ceases his mocking, straightening up. “Sir! My apologies.”
Michael continues to stare at him for a few seconds more then turns and continues toward the Council Chamber.
Raphael glances at Samael and shakes his head, then sets off after his leader.
Closing his eyes and murmuring under his breath, annoyed with himself, Samael follows behind.
“To answer your initial question regarding whether this is a protection or offensive mission, Samael,” Michael says, “I think there are elements of both in this request to attend the meeting. I think we will be working with The Light and testing our combat talents.”
“But the Apocalypse is over, Michael,” Raphael responds, “Iscariot and The Light put a stop to it, didn’t they?”
“We can’t be sure Raphael, no one can. All we know is that it seems to be contained and calming down, but since the event our ability to know and see all has been severely compromised and not even the Council knows what is happening nor what will come to be, and that is a source of great concern for them.”
Samael catches up to them. “So you’re saying that Lucifer could easily be on the march right now and, we wouldn’t have a clue about it?”
Michael stops once again and looks at him. “Yes, I am afraid that is exactly what I’m saying.” He glances at Raphael.
The lieutenants exchange a glance and Raphael raises an eyebrow, then all three angels continue walking.
“One other thing I do know, gentlemen,” Michael continues, “is that Iscariot will be at the meeting too and I believe that he has quite a serious request.”
“Oh?” Samael says, his intrigue evident, “What might that be?”
“Well, that is what we are here to find out I expect, Samael, among other things.”
Reaching the Council Chamber door, Michael places a hand in the center and it opens.
Seventeen
Standing up, Jesus smiles. Stepping around the Council bench he stretches out his arms, beckoning with his fingers, laughing as he approaches Judas. He embraces him, patting him on the back, and then takes a short step backwards, cupping his hands around Judas’ face. “My friend, my dear, dear friend,” he says, his face beaming, “how wonderful it is to see you again.”
Returning the smile, Judas takes a hold of his hands and a wave of serenity spreads over him as though all of his troubles disappeared in an instant. “My Lord, I have imagined this moment for an eternity. Imagined everything I would say to you, everything that I would do to make things right and now that I am here, in this moment, I cannot for the life in me think of what it was I actually intended to say.” His mouth twitches as though he was about to laugh, but then he decides against it and he stares into his former master’s face, searching for the right words. Shaking his head, his eyes wandering away from Jesus for a moment, he concedes, “How cruel our fates may be, eh?”
Jesus grins at him and then places a hand on his shoulder. “My friend, there is nothing you need say other than hello, nothing you need do than be here in front of me.” He brings his hands together and up to his own mouth, “And please, let us dispense with this, ‘My Lord’ nonsense shall we? It makes me feel far too formal and indeed pompous.”
They both laugh, enjoying the moment, enjoying being in the company of each other once again, a reunion long overdue.
Since that fateful meeting with Gabriel in Father Keel’s church a little over 18 months ago, where it was revealed that he was not responsible for the betrayal of Christ, Judas has yearned to be reunited and reconciled with the man. Of course, he was now well aware that the betrayal had not been his doing, that it had been nothing more than a part of the Creator’s master plan to save humanity, a plan that had required the sacrifice of two souls. Nevertheless, he could never shake the images of the pain and suffering that his friend had endured for all humankind and no matter how much he tried to bury the guilt, he still knew that he was a part of that torment and it had bothered him a great deal, almost every day since the event. Now, however, stood in his presence and looking into his eyes, he knows that he can let go of those negative feelings. He can let go of the pain and the guilt, as it is clear to him that his former master bears him no ill feeling, nor proportions him any blame; it had just been a necessary event in history, nothing more, nothing less, and he need not consider it ever again.
Music starts to play in the Council Chamber, soft and soothing, as though dozens of crystal wind chimes dance together, their song appearing random but with a structure that still sounds intentional.
Judas adores it. It is everything that he had imagined the White Kingdom would sound like upon his arrival and it is a beautiful piece that reveals itself often when he is in his happiest of moods, the calmest of situations. He has come to realize from his time spent here, however, that each person’s ‘little slice of Heaven’ is quite unique and different, attuned to how they perceive it should be, and he is we
ll aware that no one else in the room may be hearing the same music that he is. It is for that reason that he looks in amazement at Jesus when, as he takes him by the elbow and leads him to one side of the room, he refers to it.
“It really lifts the ambience, doesn’t it?”
“What?” he replies, his eyes wide.
“The music, it really is beautiful and uplifting; it always makes me think of home.” He smiles.
“You hear this particular piece too?” Judas asks with a small smile of his own.
Jesus chuckles, looking down for a second, “What can I say? I am the Son of God after all.”
Judas rubs the back of his neck, realizing how dumb his question must have sounded to him, “Yes, yes you are my Lor—,” he stops himself mid-sentence, pursing his lips together tight and huffing through his nose, “I mean, my friend.”
Nodding, Jesus places an arm around his shoulder. “So, how goes all with my little sister, has she been behaving herself?”
“Yeah, she has,” he says, with a small chuckle, “and in many ways she is a lot like you, but in many others you couldn’t be further apart. Thankfully, you do share all of the great and important traits.”
“Maybe I would have been the same if I had been born into modern times,” he says, grinning.
Up until now, Judas hadn’t given any thought to the fact that Charlotte had actual relatives that she should meet and get to know. All of the time they had spent together he had come to think of her as an only child, his adopted daughter with no real family of her own. It was only now, as he made idle chitchat with her older brother, that he came to understand their familial bond and he feels an intense desire to ensure they meet as soon as possible.
Led away from the others, and now finished moving to a quieter corner of the room where they can catch up and talk undisturbed, Judas stops and turns to face Jesus. “Clearly you are aware of the alternate existence that I asked to be created for her?”
He nods, a wry smile across his face.
“You approve?” he says, raising his eyebrows.
“Actually Judas, yes I did. It was in fact, myself that allowed this to happen when Gabriel came to me with the request,” he motions to the Archangel, standing over at the Council bench, conversing with the higher angels, “I thought it was a great idea, well thought out, and clearly in her best interests. I mean, how could she possibly save the world if she didn’t have at least a small working knowledge of it? The inner machinations of the minds of humans are complex and that is putting it mildly,” he says, rolling his eyes, “so the greater understanding she has of all things the better, in my opinion, especially before she takes up the crusade proper.”
Judas nods, happy to hear that his friend is in accord. “Those were my exact thoughts and I think she has benefitted from it immensely. Plus it gave me time to train her to be able to defend herself.”
This time Jesus sighs, a look of concern spreading over his face. “Hmm, well that my friend is where I do have to disagree with you. I do not think that it is her or my place to be weaponized, that is best left to people such as yourself, Michael, and the Hellwatch.”
Judas shakes his head and is about to respond when the door to the chamber opens and the three members of Hellwatch step through.
“Ah good,” Jesus says, clapping his hands together, “everyone is finally here so we can begin.” He then whispers to Judas, “and we will continue this little discussion another time, my friend.”
Judas acknowledges him then looks over toward Michael and offers a slight nod, a gesture returned by the Archangel. “What’s going on?” he says to Jesus. “Why are Hellwatch here?”
Jesus ceases walking toward the Council bench and moves back toward him. “We have called Hellwatch here, Judas, because your request is a very grave and serious one, and we need input from the highest order of protection for the kingdom. That is why Michael and his lieutenants are here.” He places a hand on his shoulder, “Come, let us discuss what you hope to achieve here today.” He smiles.
In all of the years that Judas has known the Son of God, the one thing that sticks in his and the minds of all those who meet him is his warm and gentle smile that is almost a permanent feature of his face. One that puts people at ease in an instant and relaxes them even when the matters at hand for discussion are of a troubling nature, and now, as he smiles at him once again, all protestations that he has about Hellwatch’s presence are forgotten, as though they never existed in the first place.
Jesus makes his way toward his seat but stops and greets the three latest additions to the meeting, taking his time to share a kind word with each and shake their hands.
Judas makes his way over to the middle of the room, eager to get the proceedings underway and as he approaches his position, he acknowledges the presence of Samael and Raphael.
Samael nods. “S’up?”
Judas laughs. As always, Samael’s devotion to behaving and speaking in the ultra-modern tongue amuses him. “Hey Sammy, not much buddy, how about you, all good?”
“Ahhhh, so-so, you know – the usual. You?”
“So-so,” he replies. “The usual.”
They grin, reveling in the daft little game they have just engaged one another in and Samael winks while pointing at Judas and makes a clicking sound with his mouth, causing Judas to laugh even more.
Judas then turns his attention to Samael’s partner. “Hey Raph.”
“Hey,” comes the response, their exchange of pleasantries brief and to the point.
Clearing his throat, Jesus brings the session to order. “Good day gentlemen, and thank you for attending at short notice. Michael, I know you and your team are always busy, so we shall try to keep this brief.”
Michael nods, then gestures with his hand that he appreciates the Council’s understanding of him and his team’s importance. “Thank you my Lord. It is an honor to serve the Council, as always.”
Samael rolls his eyes and whispers to Raphael, “Kiss ass!”
Annoyed, Raphael shushes him.
“Thank you, General,” Seraphim says, bowing a little. “We welcome the Hellwatch and I am sure you will be most interested in what Judas has to say here today.” He motions to him. “You have the floor, Iscariot.”
“It’s Judas, my Lord,” he says, as he takes a few steps forward, “just Judas.” He nods.
“My apologies Judas. Please, tell us why you are here today.”
Clearing his throat, he takes a moment to study the faces of each of the Council members in an attempt to assess their states of mind, to see if he can determine whether they will authorize his request or if they are already determined to veto it. He cannot tell either way, and so glances to his left, at Michael, and then focuses his attention back on the Council. He offers a small bow. “My Lords. I am sure that you are all well aware of my involvement with the start of the Apocalypse and my failure to contain it properly.”
“Judas, what happened was nobody’s fault, least of all yours,” Jesus says, his tone comforting. “What happened, happened.”
He nods, “I understand, my Lord, but nevertheless it was on my watch and so, despite your kind words, I do feel responsible. Very responsible, in fact.”
An air of acceptance and appreciation forms around the Council table and Judas pauses to allow what he has said to sink in, once again studying the faces of the Council members, attempting to assess their reactions. He has always been good at reading people and understanding their emotions, had always possessed great skill in noticing the little signs that give them away. In particular, when they try to conceal certain feelings or hide a truth; that is when the signs manifest themselves as ticks, sniffs, itches, and the like. Yet as he studies the Council member’s faces he sees none of those, rather a great compassion and understanding for his past deeds. It was not what he had expected. He had been prepared for a lambasting, for terrible anger, and much scorn for failing to prevent the Apocalypse, despite success in his mission to save C
harlotte. Combined with everything else that he is preparing to say here today, he thought that would be the cherry on top, the icing on the cake. But such a notion is the result of his human frailty seeping through and it is not the way of the highest order of Angelic beings to behave in such a manner.
Samael leans into Michaels left ear. “Old Jude is taking one for the team there. I always liked him.”
Michael looks back at him, his movement slow. He is unimpressed. He then turns back to the Council members with the exact same speed.
Regaining his composure, Judas continues. “As a result of that failure, I feel it is only right that I do everything in my power to set things straight and help humankind win this war and regain their world, their very lives.”
“What war?” Seraphim replies. “We know of no such war. Lucifer has been defeated by The Light and he will take many, many lifetimes to resurface. Surely you are worrying about nothing, Judas?”
“I’m afraid I am not, Lord Seraphim,” he replies, turning to face the angel, “I think the time-altering events that Lucifer forced upon the world have had a much deeper and troubling effect than we first imagined. It is my belief that during the time we were trying to evade him he had gained too much power, that it had risen too high and the banishing ritual that Charlotte performed on him was nothing more than her gaining us a period of grace to collect ourselves. I believe, my Lord, that Lucifer is on the rise yet again and this time, with the rulebook thrown out of the window and the Kingdom of Man in chaos, he will come back stronger than ever. This is why we need a response team, we need to take the onus, and gain the upper hand.” He pauses for a moment, staring into their faces before delivering the request he has been eager to reveal since he got here. “I have been made aware of a powerful artifact that can win us the war, before the balance of power tips against us.”
The Council shift in their seats, some of their faces now exuding concern. Those that were leaning on their hands, listening to Judas, have now sat up straight, their interest piqued. The atmosphere within the room has changed and the serene music that had been warming Judas has now faded away.
