by Pierce, SJ
Her eyes moved to the grouping of Protector Angels by the stage. She watched broodingly as they socialized and bonded amongst themselves. Memories of days past at the office replayed through her mind, standing around the break room with her friends, talking about the latest gossip and happenings. It seemed like only yesterday, but yet, so far away at the same time.
She knew her days of being well-regarded were over. Even though most of the Protectors seemed nice enough, they kept their distance the majority of the time as though she had an invisible boundary line drawn around her with a sign that read, “Keep Away.” However, there was a select group of girls that had an unabashed contempt for her and would throw a look at her from time to time, whispering feverishly amongst themselves – a grouping of three girls dubbed the ‘Christineth Clan’.
The leader of the clan was a tall girl with long, honey hair and high cheekbones named Christineth – the most petulant of the group. The others were Leena, an Asian girl who could be seen as her sidekick, and Audrey who went along with whatever the two of them said. She appeared to be a sweet girl but duped into being their drone. Cindra had made attempts to be friendly with the three of them a time or two, to be the peacemaker, but because of her unbreakable friendship with Alyx, they continually wrote her off.
Cindra encouraged Alyx to ignore them, assuring her that most of the other girls were already sick of them too. But they were to spend every waking minute with one another. Ignoring them would be a challenge, to say the least.
Standing at a substantial distance away from the ‘Christineth Clan’ were the smallest of the Protectors, Natalia and Serena, who mostly kept to themselves and leaned against the pulpit talking to Willow. Willow aimed to be friends with everyone – even Christineth and her loyal followers, who mildly accepted her since she wasn’t directly linked to Alyx. But Natalia and Serena were completely uninterested in winning over the affections of the ‘in crowd’. They even introduced themselves to Alyx at the Angels’ camp as they dressed into their robes before the mandatory gathering. During the introduction, Alyx had a feeling it was mainly to spite Christineth since Natalia would toss a smirk in her direction periodically, seemingly delighted that her act of friendliness toward Alyx irked her. Alyx assumed the two of them would eventually have a falling out and the thought secretly pleased her. Her money was on the short, no-nonsense Natalia, even though Christineth was easily twice her size.
Normally Alyx would have confronted Christineth to work on making amends, but anytime she came anywhere near the girl she would turn her back or walk away. Her problem with Alyx ran deep, and she couldn’t imagine why something she had done – assumedly kissing Isaac – would offend her so badly. She resolved that it wasn’t worth pursuing to make right. Christineth could be the childish one, and Alyx would try to ignore her as Cindra so persistently encouraged.
To take her mind off of the forced isolation, Alyx’s gaze raked over the horizon. It could have been the new dimension they were in, but even at night the island was a wonderfully magical place. The star-filled sky shone clearer than she had ever seen, and the silver moon that hung amongst them practically swallowed everything beneath it whole. She imagined that if one were to run to the very East shore, their fingertips would have the pleasure of brushing over its craterous, rocky surface.
Even the ambiance at the gathering place seemed fanciful in its own way. The flickering of the torches around them cast dancing shadows on the tents, and the wind had died down from earlier, creating a mood of serenity. If she hadn’t been so melancholy due to her circumstances, she would have enjoyed the atmosphere immensely.
A flutter of purple fabric caught her eye. The first gifted human emerged from the grouping of tents to join them. Alyx set her shoulders back and preened her wavy black hair, hoping Isaac might be among them. If the gateway had healed his wounds as it had her multiple lacerations – courtesy of the beasts they encountered in the other dimension – he might be well enough to join them tonight. Or at the very least, make a brief appearance.
This first human was a slender man with strawberry blonde hair shaved close to his scalp. He appeared to be in his early twenties and had an arrogant way about him as he strolled with his head held regally, observing who was in attendance. A pleased grin toyed with his lips, assumedly because he was the first one to arrive, and he planted himself on the first bench, directly in front of the platform.
The next human caught Alyx by surprise. His peculiar appearance didn’t belong. Long, black hair dusted the rounds of his shoulders and hadn’t been washed in three weeks, at least. His light blue eyes glowered at the grass as he walked, and the circles beneath them matched his purple robe. His head hung submissively, reminding Alyx of a beaten dog, and when it rose to find a place to sit, her mouth dropped. A black marking in the shape of a number four tainted the pale skin of his forehead. Or was it a messy swastika? It looked cryptic, nonetheless.
As he searched the benches for a place to sit, her eyes shifted to his right arm whose hand fidgeted with something inside his robe pocket. Sensing her curious stare, the man’s eyes snapped to hers, and she jerked her head in the other direction. Crap! she thought and her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Her fascination with this strange man had been too obvious.
From her peripheral view, she observed that he sat on the bench directly behind the tall man who shook his hand politely. This astounded her. She assumed by his arrogance that he was too good for everyone and would especially feel that way about the unusual, sullen man.
As Alyx waited for the next human to arrive, she noted that she was the only Protector interested in them. All of the others continued to chatter amongst themselves, totally indifferent to their presence. When their Elders advised them that the humans were “no longer their concern”, they must have taken that to mean in every literal sense of the word. But Alyx couldn’t help it, she wanted to know about the others who shared this island with them and how their gifts would contribute to their efforts.
Another approaching human interrupted her train of thought. An Asian man with a splash of silver in his black hair hustled around the corner of the platform toward the benches. He hadn’t dressed in his purple robe like the others and wore a plain white t-shirt and black slacks. Interesting. Intense focus strained the muscles in his face, and he stroked his chin with his fingertips as he wandered over to the peculiar man, plopping by his side.
Three humans down, five to go, she thought and shifted in her seat, hoping one of the next humans would be Isaac or Micah.
Unfortunately, the next to appear was a sturdy, rigid man, assumedly in his forties, but his leathered skin – from what was probably years of smoking – made it impossible to tell. His indignant brown eyes scrutinized everything around him as though he didn’t trust anything or anyone and was forced to be there against his will. Which technically, all of the humans were, but he undoubtedly resented it. He trudged in a long, slow gait to the back of the gathering place with his arms tightly crossed and stopped at the back row, a few benches over from Alyx and Cindra. The wood creaked beneath his weight, the sturdy joints challenged by his size.
He rested his forearms on his legs and stared at the ground. He clearly preferred the isolation, whereas Alyx had no say in the matter. She secretly wished that it was her choice as his had been; at least then, she would have the peace that came from it being of her own accord.
* * *
Isaac forced his eyes open to make sure what he had seen earlier wasn’t a hallucination. It took a lot of energy, but he had to see.
He lay in the same tent as before, face-down on a narrow cot surrounded by a flimsy mosquito net. A rich, sweet smell saturated the air, which he could only attribute to the burning of frankincense and myrrh. The incense curled up beside him from the floor, and the intensity of its heady scent practically singed the inside of his nostrils. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was destined to smell it forever.
His weary eyes scanned through the
tent for Micah who sat dutifully by his side the first time he awoke. At the time, daylight brightened the inside of the tent, and the only other people inside were a short Asian man who applied a dressing to his back and an attractive, blonde woman insisting he take a few sips of bitter tea. “Drink up, mon cher, this will heal you soon enough,” he remembered the French lady saying. Her voice spread through the air like thick, sweet butter.
To his dismay, the tent was empty now minus a table that held clear jars with herbs, a gas lantern that cut through the darkness, and a surgical tray with clean dressings. But the fact that he had seen his son before meant one of two things; that Alyx had followed through with her promise to help find him, or by some miracle his son found his way back to him. Either way, his presence relieved him.
He attempted to swallow, but his swollen, dry tongue made it impossible. Sweat trickled from his forehead and onto the damp sheets, and his lungs worked overtime to suck in the humid, stuffy air. He felt sure he would suffocate soon, especially with the incense ruthlessly invading his airways.
He wanted to push off of the cot to escape for fresher air but knew that would be impossible. Every time air filled his lungs a merciless, stabbing pain shot down his spine from the gash in his back. Besides, he had yet to feel his legs, and his toes were unwilling to wiggle at his command.
“Hello?” he asked hoarsely and winced. Speaking was definitely worse.
Immediately, the cute blonde stuck her head into the opening of the tent with pursed lips, which then stretched across the width of her face. She pranced over to him and flung the mosquito net open. “How are you feeling?” she asked, placing her hand over his forehand. “You feel feverish.”
“Water,” he croaked.
“No problem.”
She bent to the floor and poured water from a pitcher into the highball glass sitting beside it. She placed a straw inside and gently positioned it to his mouth so all he had to do was wrap his lips around it. He sucked the water down, enjoying the cool, wet sensation as it relieved his parched throat.
“Do you want another?” she asked.
He shook his head as the last bit of liquid slurped through the straw.
“My name is Julie,” she said kindly. “If there’s anything else I can get you let me know. I am your nurse. Dr. Wu went to the meeting and will be back shortly.”
He turned his gaze on the opening of the tent. “Where’s my son?” he asked and grimaced as another stabbing pain blazed through his nerves.
“Micah is asleep. I’ll tell him to come visit you again when he wakes.”
He smiled appreciatively in response, unwilling to speak more than he had to.
His eyes drooped like heavy weighted curtains, and he didn’t have the strength to fight it. Her petite fingers combed through his dark brown hair that curled from the humidity. “Go back to sleep now, I’ll be watching over you,” she said, and he succumbed to another deep slumber.
* * *
The next to arrive were the Elders, Prolificent and Diamort, whom Alyx had already met that afternoon. They strode into the gathering area from the hill behind them, wearing black robes and darkened expressions, perhaps mirroring the tone of the meeting that night.
As soon as the other Protectors spotted them, their chat parties ended, and they rushed to find a seat to sit in respectful silence. But they weren’t the only ones. The humans also went silent to heed their overwhelming presence.
The Elders stepped onto the raised platform and made their way to the back, left corner, stopping with their hands clasped in front of their robes. Prolificent’s black button eyes took in the sparse crowd and rested on the Asian man, narrowing, none too pleased by his casual attire. The man didn’t seem fazed by it. However, Alyx’s insides trembled from merely witnessing the disparaging glare.
In the minutes that followed, an older bald man emerged from the tents clutching a tall, twisted cane. The only hair he possessed was a long, black beard that lay atop his white robe.
Like the Elders, he also had an overwhelming presence, but his jovial demeanor put her soul at ease. His dark, deep set eyes sparkled and had permanent crease lines beside them from where he held a slight, pleasant grin. As he approached the stage, he nodded a greeting at the humans who welcomed him with enthusiastic waves.
He made his way onto the platform and stood on the opposite side of the Elders. Prolificent immediately motioned for him to come hither, and the old man turned his head away.
Did he just… ignore him? Alyx thought, and her insides trembled again. She couldn’t believe he would dare do such a thing. Who is this man?
“Oman!” Prolificent called, insistent not to be ignored.
Oman’s smile flattened to a straight line, and he looked in his direction.
“I need to speak with you.”
Forcing the smile to return to his face, he went to join him.
Prolificent rested his hand on the old man’s shoulder and nudged him to turn their backs to the crowd. They lowered their heads to whisper, and Oman cast a glance over his shoulder at the Asian man and nodded with understanding. Their conversation abruptly ended, and Oman returned to his side of the stage.
Ok, that was weird.
Another old man with a humped nose emerged from the tents. This one also had a long beard but snowy white. A trending revealed itself with their leadership; they were all bald with dark eyes, except the old men’s skin wasn’t as pale as the Elders and possessed a human texture, wrinkled and imperfect. She imagined every crease in their faces had an interesting story to tell, and the preceding days had more than likely added a couple to their collection.
When he climbed onto the platform, Oman spread his arms wide, inviting an embrace.
Prolificent stepped to the front of the stage. “Thank you all for coming,” he roared over the crowd, taking the lead, “all of our leadership has arrived, but are we missing a few humans?”
“I believe we are,” Diamort responded quietly.
Oman released his friend and moved to Prolificent’s side, whispering behind a cupped hand.
Prolificent’s brow rose with utter shock, and he hurried to convene with him for another private conversation. While waiting for the meeting to continue, everyone shifted in their seats. The wooden benches were hardly comfortable.
After a minute of heavy whispers and disappointed scowls between the two men, Prolificent faced the crowd once more. “It appears we will be minus a few this evening,” he said with irritated undertones. “One of our humans was hurt during their travel here and isn’t well enough to attend, one of them is seeing to his needs, one is asleep, and the other refuses to come to the gathering. Nevertheless, we will commence as planned.
Alyx slumped on the bench. His words had crushed her hopes of seeing Isaac tonight. But even greater than her disappointment was the harsh realization that he hadn’t been healed like her. The thought of him continuing to suffer twisted her stomach into a knot.
“I will turn the floor over to Oman who is a Spirit Guide. He will tell you more about why this island was created and introduce our leadership. I expect all of you to give him your full attention.”
He stepped back into place beside Diamort, and Oman came forward. “Hello, all, and welcome,” Oman said with a voice like the soft roll of thunder, deep and powerful, and he rested his cane in front of him, crossing his hands over the top, “I know it has not been an easy journey, physically or emotionally.
Everyone in the crowd nodded in response, muttering words of agreement.
“But none of us can deny that this is a beautiful place that our Creator prepared for us as a safe haven, within a dimension these wicked beings cannot access. It is here that we will find rest and protection while we develop our plan of action.”
The Asian man’s hand shot into the air.
“Yes, Doctor.”
Doctor? Alyx thought. He must be working on Isaac.
“Why is it that we can access it, but they cannot?�
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“Excellent question. You see, only certain individuals can be granted entry into a dimension such as this. They must possess a certain essence about them, a spiritual quality if you will.
Oman extended a hand toward the Protectors. “For instance, Angels aren’t made in the same fashion as a human. They’re created by their Elders outside the realm of Earth, and their souls and bodies have more of a spiritual composition. It’s interwoven into who they are.
He lifted his knobby finger into the air. “The only other kind, besides us spiritual beings, that can access this dimension are humans like you. Your spiritual gifts are so powerful, your auras so pure, you were able to pass through. This place was created on holy ground, and the beasts who have invaded our beloved Earth are unable to find us here. But despite its purity, like everything outside of heaven, it cannot last forever. When we are done here, we must leave.
Alyx peered down to her bare feet. She assumed they no longer wore shoes because an Angel’s tough skin didn’t need protection from the elements, but it never occurred to her that this was a holy place, and therefore shoes weren’t allowed.
“If you have no more questions regarding this island, it is time for a short briefing of our hierarchy here.”
Only silence answered his invitation.
“Very well, then. As Prolificent mentioned, I and my dear friend behind me are Spirit Guides,” he said and stretched his hand toward his white-bearded counterpart. “This is Malachai. We possess many abilities, but our main goal on this island is to work with the humans on their gifts in hopes that they can aide us in this war. I will soon introduce the ones who answer to me and Malachai will do the same. As for who we answer to, we report directly to the Creator Himself.”
He rotated his body toward the Elders, waving his hand in their direction. “Prolificent, whom you’ve already met, and Diamort are the Elder Angels of Protection. As I just mentioned, they created the Protectors in anticipation for the invasion. We were pleased to see that their protégés performed flawlessly, or perhaps, superbly is a better description,” he said and hoisted his cane into the crook of his elbow. “Let’s give them a round of applause,” he said as he clapped.
