“Do Stratóri battle the Zon on Earth?”
“Sometimes. But their primary function is gathering intelligence. Their most powerful ability is persuasion. If a human inadvertently sees something he should not see, Stratóri are called in, and the human is persuaded that what he witnessed was perfectly normal.”
“Are there Stratóri on Olympus?”
“Not since the Zon rebellion. There is really no need for them since mortal Olympians are aware that angels exist. Most angels on Olympus belong to the Warrior Order.”
“So what kind of angel is Galen?”
“He is Stratóri.”
“Um, did he use persuasion on me?”
“Yes. But he said it was unsuccessful. He was very surprised you were able to resist.”
“Son of a…”
My opinion of Galen takes a serious nosedive. I am seething. The strange feelings. I thought I was confused. But I wasn’t. I was fighting his influence.
“Ari, angels are immune to the charms of Stratóri. What surprised him was that you were able to resist without the benefit of training. That fact alone has him convinced that the prophecy is real.”
“I just can’t believe he tried to do that. That’s like slipping something into a girl’s drink. I feel violated. And if I ever see him again, I’m going to kick his butt.”
Davin smiles.
“What?” I ask.
“You have a Warrior’s disposition.”
“After what he did, I have every right to be angry.”
“Let’s just be thankful you were able to resist.”
“Don’t you understand?”
“Understand what?”
“All the time I was with him, I thought I was confused about my feelings. But I wasn’t confused at all. I was resisting his efforts to persuade me! Ooh, I need to slap him, Davin. Will you take me to him?”
“That would not be a good idea. You could kill him, and then once you calmed down you would be distraught.”
He’s probably right.
“Is he a prisoner?”
“It’s more like he’s in protective custody.”
“Will he ever be free again?”
“Eventually. This is for his own good, Ari. It would not be safe for him to return to Earth.”
“Do you think he’s held anything back from you?”
“No. Thalia is very thorough.”
“Thorough is good. But Galen can be pretty slick, if you know what I mean.” I recall some of his more creative seduction attempts. He was persistent.
“Don’t worry, Ari. Nothing bad is going to happen. We will simply not allow it.”
“I guess I’m going to have to trust you.”
“You’re family now. We protect our own.”
“Oh, so I’m in the angel Mafia now?”
“Just keep your sense of humor and leave your safety in my hands.”
I have to smile. He is so chivalrous. “I’ll do that. So, what is the Second Order of angels?”
“They are called Apestáli, which means messenger. They serve as communication links between Paradise and the mortal worlds.”
“Do they have a special ability?”
“They are very diplomatic…and extremely fast.”
“In case someone tries to kill the messenger?” I ask with a smirk.
“Good one,” he says with a grin.
“Do Warriors have any special abilities?”
“Our primary job is to hunt and destroy the Fallen. We are the apex predators of the angel community. The best fighters. We serve as a balancing force, keeping other angels in line. We are…”
“Badass?” I ask with a quirk of my brow.
“Something like that.”
A thought suddenly occurs to me. “I believe you said that the Zon did not take Damas and his Warriors seriously. Can angels not sense another angel’s rank or status?”
“Good question,” Davin says. “The Zon surely knew what Damas was. There is no doubt. We can indeed sense other angels. But the Zon were confident that their superior numbers would provide a tactical advantage. You also must consider the era. Olympian technology was fairly primitive. There were no videos and precious few images. It’s hard to discern the truth from what has become legend.”
“Ah, I see. Then it’s kind of like looking at human history prior to the advent of motion pictures and sound recording. There are a lot of assumptions. We can see photographs of Abraham Lincoln, for instance, but we cannot hear his voice. We cannot analyze his emotions. He is more legend than real.”
“Exactly,” he says, smiling with what looks like pride.
I smile back, proud of myself for impressing him.
“So, Warriors are the Third Order?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“What is the Fourth Order called?”
“Serafeím. They are like princes and princesses, and they act the part,” he says derisively.
“You mean they can be divas?” I ask.
“Yes. They can be quite arrogant and pompous. They are the politicians and the patricians of Paradise.”
“And you don’t like them very much?”
“There are Serafeím on Olympus. But because they are bound to Olympus, they are more…”
“Down-to-earth?” I suggest.
“Yes,” Davin says with an eye roll, which makes me smile.
“You’re getting really good at that.”
“At what?”
“Rolling your eyes.”
“Thank you. I have an excellent teacher.”
I roll my eyes.
“Do the Serafeím have special abilities?”
“They are strong, like Warriors, but they lack our ferocity and fearlessness. They do not like getting their hands dirty. A small number of the most powerful Serafeím possess the ability to fly.”
I gasp. “They have wings?”
“No, they use the Essence.”
“Whoa. Jet Essence, huh?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“What about Sages? Are they an Order?”
“Sages are either Warriors or Serafeím. But they possess more specialized cognitive abilities that make them ideal administrators, teachers, scientists, counselors, and artists.”
“Ah, the celestial cognoscenti?”
“Something like that,” Davin says. “And there is one more group of angels. They are too few in number to be called an Order, but they are significant because of what they can do.”
“And what can they do?”
“They are the ones who altered the paths of evolution on Olympus and Earth. They are called Prostáti. They are able to alter DNA through touch.”
“Do they have other jobs?”
“Yes. They are highly skilled guardians, and are sometimes assigned to protect important humans, such as politicians and scientists, from the Fallen. Prostáti are able to fly. They can also bend light to make themselves virtually invisible. And they are nearly indestructible.”
“Wow. Are there any Prostáti on Olympus?”
“No. They reside in Paradise and only visit the mortal worlds when they are assigned a mission.”
“How many Prostáti are there?”
“Legend has it that there are twenty-four.”
“How many angels are there in total?”
“There are many more angels in Paradise than are bound to the mortal worlds. I am not sure of the exact number.”
“What do they do in Paradise?”
“Many things, but mostly they manage the afterlives of mortals.”
“There are mortals in Paradise?”
“Yes.”
“There is really an afterlife?”
“Of course.”
“So every mortal who has ever lived and died now exists in Paradise?”
“Not all make it to Paradise, I’m afraid.”
“So there is a hell, too?”
“Think in terms of a planetary system that exists in another dimension. The sys
tem includes many worlds, which together comprise what we call Paradise and Acheron.”
“Acheron is hell?”
“Yes.”
“So how many mortals exist between Paradise and Acheron?”
“I’m not sure of the exact number, but it is surely in the billions.”
I blow out a long breath. “This is a lot of information to process.”
“You don’t need to do it in one sitting. Your training will be thorough, and Thalia is an excellent teacher.”
“What about God? Have you, um, met him?”
“We’ve never been formally introduced. And what makes you think God is a ‘he’?”
“Good point,” I say. “A truly nurturing deity may well be a woman. So what about angels who’ve been to Paradise? Have your parents met God?”
“They do not speak of Paradise.”
“Have you never asked them questions?”
“I have. But after several hundred years of not getting answers, I gave up. Those who have been to Paradise are simply not permitted to discuss it.”
I smile. “What happens in Paradise stays in Paradise, eh?”
“Something like that,” he replies.
I sigh and lean back, resting my head on the back of the sofa. “I think I have a headache, Davin.”
“Then put it right here,” he says, patting his shoulder.
“Are you coming on to me, Warrior?”
“No. I’m in a comforting mood.”
“Sure,” I say, as I lay my head on his shoulder. “Aren’t you afraid you’re going to get distracted?”
“We are surrounded by my best Warriors. You are perfectly safe.”
“And that makes you comfortable?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like you to stay with me tonight, Davin.”
“I can’t do that, Ari.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
He sighs. “You’ve endured much these past several days. You need rest and I’m not sure…”
“My mom is working all night and I’m afraid to be alone in the house. You make me feel safe. Please?”
“Alright,” he says, looking a little uncomfortable.
“Thank you, Davin.”
“I need to contact my team leader and advise him that I’ll be spending the night. I may never hear the end of this,” he mutters.
“You mean they’ll think we’re…”
“They could.”
“Davin, do you have a reputation as a player?” I ask with a playful gasp.
“Absolutely not,” he says indignantly.
I toss my head back and laugh. “I’m sorry I’ve put you in such an awkward situation,” I say, as he gets up and walks into the kitchen. “Where are you going?”
“I am going to make a call and I would like a little privacy.”
Davin is so cute when he gets embarrassed. I try really hard to keep from laughing again, with little success.
“Why don’t you go to your house? You can talk to your team and change into running pants, or something more comfortable than jeans.”
He ponders my suggestion and nods. “I’ll be back in about thirty minutes. I’m not entirely comfortable with this, but if you’ll feel safer…”
I give his hand a quick squeeze. “I will. Thank you, Davin.”
He gives me a shy smile and walks outside. I lock the door behind him and head upstairs to change.
“Did they understand?” I ask, when Davin returns.
“More or less.”
“Hmm. I’ll have to straighten them out tomorrow.”
He shakes his head and sighs, and I smile, because it occurs to me that angels can sometimes be quite human.
I lead him into the family room and we sit on the sofa.
“Will you be involved in my training?” I ask.
“Yes. Thalia and I will be with you every step of the way.”
“Davin?”
“Yes?”
“Do angels have souls?”
He looks at me as if I’ve grown a second head. “Of course. Yes. Why do you ask?”
I feel a little embarrassed. “Well, I’ve read a few books about angels…”
“Novels?”
“Yes,” I answer, feeling a bit sheepish.
“We are not mythical creatures. We eat, we drink, we sleep, we love, and we have souls,” he says with a warm smile.
“I’m glad we have souls. Mostly because that means we can have soul mates.”
“I agree. But it’s also good to have a soul because it means that a part of us will always be able to find its way home.”
“That’s so sweet. So profound. Sometimes you truly amaze me, Davin.”
“Touché,” he says, with a big grin.
There is a good chance that what I feel for Davin is due to stress and anxiety. Only time will tell, and I have to give it time. I have to know. I have to give us a chance. I pull an Afghan over us and lean my head on his shoulder. Gosh, he feels so good.
“Davin?”
“Yes?”
“Are you sure I won’t forget what it’s like to feel human.”
“You won’t. You were born and raised on Earth. You will never lose that part of yourself.”
“Do you really remember what it was like to grow up on Olympus?”
“I do. It’s part of me. I remember playing with my friends. I remember school. I remember sitting on my mother’s knee. It won’t go away, Ari. It is part of what defines us.”
“Thank you.”
“Everything will work out,” he says, as he wraps me in a protective embrace.
“Davin?”
“Hmm?”
“You really weren’t hurt? Not even a little?”
“Did you want me to be hurt?”
“No. But if you…”
“Ari?”
“Yes, Davin?”
“If I kiss you, will you stop asking me if I was hurt?”
“I’ll try, but I think it could take more than one kiss.”
“You think?”
“I do. I really do.”
“Ari?”
“Yes, Davin?”
“Shh,” he says, as his lips find mine.
I know I hurt him, but it’s over, and we’re back on good terms. And right now, that’ll have to be good enough.
The sound of my phone’s alarm gradually enters my consciousness and I begin to awaken. A warm breeze whispers across my cheek and I open my eyes. Davin’s face is inches away. He looks so sweet. I can’t resist stroking his cheek with my finger.
“Davin?”
His eyes open slowly and his lips curve into an adorable smile. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I say, returning his smile. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, your sofa is surprisingly comfortable. And did you sleep well?”
“Like a baby. I’m glad you stayed.”
He just stares at me and smiles.
“What?”
“I’m glad I stayed, too,” he says, which makes me smile.
I nod. “Thanks, Davin…for answering my silly questions last night.”
“There was nothing silly about your questions, and I would love to spend the rest of the day answering many more, but we do need to start your training…and I need to clean up. Will you be alright while I’m gone?”
“Yeah. I need to get ready, too,” I say. “Oh, what should I wear?”
“Dress casually. You will be issued appropriate clothing at the training center.”
“Okay. I’ll make us a quick breakfast. Hurry back.”
“You might spoil me.”
“Never,” I tease, as I kiss his cheek.
Davin and I devour a six-egg omelet, several slices of toast, a half-pound of bacon, and a quart of orange juice. “I seem to have acquired your appetite. Do angels eat every meal as if it was their last?” I ask.
“We expend considerably more energy than mortals. We require more fuel.”
“Are there an
y chubby angels?”
“I’ve never seen one,” he says.
“Good,” I reply, as I make a grab for the last two bacon slices.
“Hey, I wanted one of those,” he says as he grabs one of the slices off my plate.”
“Bacon thief. I’ll let you slide, but don’t ever try that with chocolate.”
“I am not that stupid.”
I feel so totally at ease with him. I can let my guard down and just be myself, which is something I’ve never been able to do with a guy before. “Good,” I say, with a big grin. “I’d hate to have to kick your butt.”
“Okay, killer. Duly noted.”
Before I can respond, my mind drifts to a question I wanted to ask him last night. Somehow, I’d gotten off on a tangent and forgot. Until now. “Did you ever meet Moses, or Abraham, or Mohammed, or…Jesus?”
Davin stares at me for a moment. “How did we go from chubby angels and food fights, to religion?”
“Um, I meant to ask you last night.”
“No, I never met those men. And, to answer your next question…” He pauses and gives me a crooked grin. “I do believe they existed.”
“So, they weren’t Olympian?”
“No. It is possible that the answers you seek are known to Paradise, but…”
“No one who’s been to Paradise can speak of them.”
“Correct.”
I sigh. “I guess, in a way, that’s good.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, it preserves the mystery-aspect of faith.”
“Excellent point. Perhaps it was meant to be. Perhaps someday we will reveal ourselves to humans and…”
“And we won’t destroy the foundations of all that they believe in.”
Davin smiles and places a hand over mine. “You have a beautiful mind.”
But what about the mythological gods of Greece. If the Warriors spent so much time in ancient Greece, maybe…
“Do you know how the gods of Olympus came to be invented?”
“As a matter of fact, I have intimate knowledge of that.”
“Wanna share?”
“Some Warriors and Serafeím have the ability to project energy, as a weapon—”
“And you have this ability?”
He nods. “I was assigned to a colony on the island of Crete. One night, I was standing on the beach…practicing. The ability was still relatively new to me and I was determined to master it. It was very late, and there was a full moon. I raised my arm and projected a magnificent blue beam that arced across the sky. Just before the beam left my fingers, I’d noticed two shapes approaching me from the west. One was my friend, Tal. The other was a Kritikí—a native. Tal knew what I was about to do and shouted for me to stop. He had warned me, on numerous occasions, that I should not be doing this on Earth, that a human might see me. So, in his anger and frustration, he shouted the most vile of Olympian obscenities—equivalent to the f-bomb. But I couldn’t stop. As my beam lit the sky, the word echoed across the beach, and a connection between the word and my beam was formed in the native’s mind…”
Ariel Rising Page 12
