Guardian Angel

by Trebus, David

  Without a moment's pause, Jasmine headed straight for the Metatron’s chambers. She passed groups of angels talking quietly to each other. Most ignored her, but some gave her strange looks of concern. Jasmine pushed on, no time to worry about their expressions.

  Up this high, the discordant note was barely noticeable. If she focused on the primary harmonies and sounds she could ignore it entirely. The holy song calmed her as nothing else could and, for the first time in days, she felt as relaxed as before things got complicated. There had been times since Michael’s accident that she had almost questioned divine wisdom, why this had to happen to her and her charge. Now, hearing the beautiful song of order, she knew everything was fine.

  Jasmine strolled briskly through the cloud-lined promenades and up the golden stairs leading to the Metatron’s chambers. She took the stairs two at a time but was stopped short when she reached the top. Outside stood a group of angels in ornate golden armour, all with swords buckled to their waists. The swords glowed with faint, red light, but Jasmine knew, if they were ever drawn, that light would erupt into violent crimson flame.

  At their head stood an angel a full head above his subordinates. Above his head a golden halo sat, pulsing with light to show the power of the being it sat upon. His hair was blond and curled, falling to his neck, while piercing blue eyes shone from beneath it. Gabriel, the messenger and sword of retribution.

  Gabriel faced Jasmine as she slowed her pace. She couldn’t help but bow as his piercing eyes bored into her, examining the very core of her being. The sensation was uncomfortable, and it was as if something were squirming inside her like a snake, writhing and wriggling to stay out of sight.

  “What are you doing here, Jasmine of Seraph?” Gabriel demanded, his tone strong and commanding. It had been a long time since Jasmine had been addressed formally, adding her choir to her title. That was usually only done at formal ceremonies. Taken aback, she hesitated a moment but decided to reply in kind.

  “Gabriel of Ascendant, I have come to petition the Metatron for answers. I need knowledge to better protect my charge from the harms that assail him.” Had that sounded confident enough?

  “You do not tell the whole truth, Jasmine of Seraph. You are here as much for your own benefit as your charge's. It is your duty to be concerned solely about him. It is him you should be with, in this time of trials.” There was a hint of chastisement in Gabriel's voice.

  “I...I...I didn’t know what to do, my lord. I needed guidance to find the path to follow,” Jasmine stammered. Gabriel had seen right through her intentions. Although what she was doing was not against any rule, she felt scorn from him.

  “Regardless, it seems your coming here was not entirely of your own design. It was also foreseen - although a little too late.” Ignoring Jasmine’s reply, Gabriel casting a sidelong glance at one of his companions, in the robes of one of the Throne choir. Thrones were seers, and closest to the material plane. They were regarded as Heaven's scouts, reading the symphony, observing Earth and the Pit from just outside the physical plane. The angel shifted uncomfortably.

  What did Gabriel mean by: “Not entirely of your own design?” Before she could reply the doors to the Metatron’s chambers opened. The Metatron stood at the threshold, leaning against one of the doors and looking tired. He glanced first to Gabriel and then to Jasmine, his face full of concern.

  “It is time, Jasmine of Seraph" Said Gabriel. "Join me in speaking with the Metatron ascendant, and you will gain the knowledge you sought” He his hand out to gesture Jasmine forward.

  She suppressed surge of anxiety, awed by Gabriel’s command, and strode into the Metatron’s chambers with as much dignity and poise as she could manage, feeling inside she felt like a frightened human child. Behind her, Gabriel entered with the Throne angel and shut the doors. Metatron stood in the centre of the room, having returned there as Jasmine and Gabriel entered.

  Once the door had been shut and only Jasmine, Metatron and the Throne were able to hear, Gabriel turned to Jasmine. “First things first. Let us remove that filth from inside of you.”

  He drew his sword. The blade leapt into flames, filling the chamber with red light. Gabriel pointed it directly at Jasmine and took a step forward, so that the blade hovered mere inches away from Jasmine’s head. As sweat poured down her face, Jasmine looked desperately from Metatron, to the Throne and to Gabriel. Metatron’s face remained impassive, while Gabriel’s was full of righteous fury. Was this her punishment for abandoning her charge? She shut her eyes and prepared for the worst.

  Gabriel held the sword there for what seemed hours. He grunted in effort as if wrestling with something powerful.

  “This is strong" Gabriel muttered to Metatron. "No wonder she found it so difficult to contain. This child should be commended.”

  “Can you deal with it? Do you need my assistance?”

  “No, I should be quite sufficient to this task,” Gabriel replied through gritted teeth.

  He raised the burning blade above his head, as if preparing to strike at Jasmine. He held it there poised, closing his eyes and whispering a quiet prayer.

  “Taint of darkness, scourge of light

  No longer are you welcome

  Remove your evil, fade into night

  No longer are you welcome

  BEGONE”

  Gabriel yelled the final word out loud and swept his sword down towards Jasmine. She shut her eyes as a burning heat washed over her, but the blade passed right through her. One moment she felt searing fire, the next cool air. She felt like a burden had been lifted. Her mind was clearer and more focused, as she stood up and faced Gabriel.

  Impaled upon his sword, a small, worm-like creature wriggled and writhed. Its mouth was a gaping orifice with sharp teeth, and it screeched and squealed as the burning blade destroyed it. Gabriel scowled at it with barely contained disdain before throwing it to the floor and smashing it.

  “Do you mind, Gabriel?" Said Metatron. "These are my private chambers, and I don’t really like spell-spawn remains soiling them.”

  Gabriel snorted in reply before allowing himself a small laugh. Both he and Metatron seemed relieved, Metatron's joke breaking the tension.

  “What…what was that?” Jasmine managed, confused by what had happened and the Archangels' levity.

  “That, Jasmine of Seraph, was a spell-spawn." Gabriel's tone was once again stern. "You were bewitched by a demon's curse. Such things are unusual; it takes a strong demon to place such a spell upon an angel.” He glared at Jasmine and was clearly cross about something. Unless of course, Gabriel always seemed that way.

  “Jasmine," Metatron said at length, his expression as grave as Gabriel's, "your return here was expected, especially in light of the spell you were subjected to. We need you to return to Michael as soon as possible, as it is probable he is in danger. First, though, Gabriel and I, feel it is time you knew a little more about your charge and the situation in general."

  Jasmine steeled herself, and stood up straight facing Metatron. With the spell lifted, her emotional control returned in full force. She suppressed her anxieties, fears, concerns, but one emotion she couldn’t entirely push down. Her love for Michael remained, although now in the background rather than screaming in her mind. She nodded to Metatron in assent, anticipating to hear what he had to say.

  “You must have noticed by now that your charge is not ordinary, Jasmine." Metatron moved to stand beside Gabriel. "His ability to perceive you and other angels, for example.”

  “I have. The accident seemed to give him a great deal of perception. I've never heard of anything like it before, and then there were the songs.”

  “The songs," Gabriel cut in. "A simple accident and a bump on the head could not give a human the ability to sing like an angel and tap into the eternal symphony. We were aware of Michael’s ability, even though you neglected to report that aspect to us. Just as we have been aware of your…involvement with your charge, even before the demon spell.” The
re was a note of chastisement in his voice. Jasmine shifted her feet, feeling ashamed of her conduct and weakness. How could she have been so stupid?

  “Did you not find it strange" Metatron said, ignoring Gabriel's interruption, "that at certain times Michael has had the ability to help people? A spoken verse here, a dropped hint there, and someone's life would improve.”

  Jasmine paused for a moment in thought. She did recall odd events as Michael was growing up. Little things that, in isolation, could have been coincidence but, when put together, formed a pattern. Michael’s failed relationships had always led to the other party moving on to success and happiness. When he sung a tune that meant something to him, a kind of aura would develop around him. One incident, when Michael was eight, sprang to her mind. He was playing with friends when a girl had an allergic reaction. While her guardian sang desperately for her, Michael ran over crying and held her hand. He hummed softly, apparently without knowing, in time to the angel’s song.

  Jasmine leant over his shoulder adding her own song when, miraculously, the girl’s breathing eased and a steady, golden glow surrounded her. She opened her eyes and smiled up at Michael as he held her hand. At the time, Jasmine and the girl’s guardian had looked at each other in relief and dismissed the event, but now Jasmine realised it had been Michael’s song that had helped heal the girl.

  “I do remember some events. In the past, I paid no real attention to them, but I suppose, they were a lot like what Michael is capable of now, only intermittent.”

  “Those events occurred because Michael has Grigori blood in his veins.” Gabriel stated abruptly.

  “Grigori…”

  “It is the truth. Michael is descended from the offspring of an angel and a human. We believe it occurred somewhere in the Eighteenth Century. His great-great grandmother bore the child of a Grigori, who escaped our notice until it was too late. The renegade angel fell from grace, leaving the mother to fend for herself. The child showed no aberrant traits and so was left to live and exist as a human. The Almighty himself decreed the child to be assigned a Guardian and left in peace.” Metatron paused to take a sip of spiced water.

  “It seems," he continued, "that those dormant traits have now awakened several generations down the line in Michael. He, like an angel, has the ability to access the symphony and sing angelic songs to affect the world around him. The accident, it seems made him consciously aware of his abilities, rather than accessing them on a subconscious level. His seeing you, Jasmine, was merely a side effect of that awakening.”

  “But…surely his abilities must have been noticed on high before now. Also, why was I not told about this when I was assigned to be his Guardian?” Gabriel grunted. He must have considered her rude for shouting.

  “It was hoped that," Metatron explained, "as his abilities lay dormant, Michael could live a normal human life. Our Lord wants nothing more than for each and every being to live as peaceful an existence as possible. He may not be able to control the actions of other humans, but he can control us and ask us to leave an innocent soul be. The only other option would have been to induct him as a lesser angel; or, worse, bring him on high like the other Grigori offspring before their time.”

  “You were not informed, Jasmine of Seraph, because you had no need to know." Gabriel's stern tone was at odds with Metatron's reasoned and kind voice. "Your duty was simply to keep him safe, not to interfere with divine mandate.”

  Jasmine blanched at Gabriel’s voice but, with the spell gone and her control restored, she restrained herself and instead bowed low, asking pardon. Her mind was spinning with the revelations, but her instincts were telling her something was wrong. She was missing something obvious about recent events but couldn’t put her finger on what.

  “Michael is the first human in centuries to be able to sing angelic song and tap into the symphony." Jasmine pulled her attention back as Metatron continued. "He is singular as an individual on Earth. There are many perceptive humans, and probably more Grigori offspring out there also, but Michael, despite his normal appearance, is very special. This is why we believe the Scourge Garamond has taken such an interest in him.”

  “Garamond….!” Gabriel snorted. “That filth should have been destroyed long ago, by my blade no less, but he cowers and hides, playing through agents.”

  “Indeed. However, he is still a powerful demon, and his interest in Michael is disturbing. We believe his interest is not Michael’s sight, as we first thought, but rather his ability to sing.” Metatron paused, letting Jasmine and Gabriel take in the information before he continued. Gabriel stood with his arms folded, glaring at the instruments suspended in the room, while Jasmine tried to wrestle the thought she was missing.

  “Imagine the damage Garamond could do to the heavenly hosts if he were able to access the symphony again. When an angel falls, he is cut off from that divine music, that guidance, and is forever bound to the Pit. Never in our history has a fallen angel been redeemed. If Garamond could corrupt Michael, turn his abilities against the heavens, he could attack us through Michael and lay heaven low in one fell swoop.”

  “Such a thing could never be allowed to happen!” Gabriel shouted, his arrogant composure gone. “I cannot stand the harming of innocent mortals but this Michael must be kept safe. He cannot be allowed to roam free on Earth any longer when he poses such a threat.”

  “It is divine will that he remains free," Metatron countered. "He is a human, unlike us, and has already done so much good down on the mortal plane. Imagine the further good he could do, if he were allowed to continue.”

  The two ArchAngels' voices seem to fade into the distance as Jasmine pondered all that had been said.. Then one word boomed out in her mind, a single word, spoken as if shouted, “Alone.”

  “Alone,” Jasmine murmured as the argument continued. The two Archangels' turned to her, despite her quite voice.

  “Jasmine?” Metatron asked.

  “I have been such a fool. The attacks on Earth: they weren’t meant for Michael, they were meant for me. The only incident that Garamond intended to harm towards Michael was the original road accident, to force the awakening of his abilities. Ever since then, they have been trying to separate me from him. The imp, the attack in the alley, the spell, it was all meant to get me away from him. Oh lord…no…they succeeded. I am such a fool.” Everything suddenly made sense to Jasmine.

  She stood up to her full height and opened her wings. It was forbidden to open portals to Earth in the Metatron’s chamber, but she didn’t care. There was no time to lose. She flapped her wings once, then opened the glowing ring of light that would allow her to descend into the mortal plane. She sensed Michael down there, but something already felt very wrong. She passed through the portal and rushed down, her wings cast behind her like a swooping hawk.

  ***

  “Putting aside the affront that Guardian just perpetrated in front of our eyes, do you think she was right?” Gabriel asked, turning to Metatron.

  “Yes, Gabriel, I believe she was." Metatron sighed. "However I also sense it may already be too late.”

  Gabriel stood beside him, looking out through a small portal in Metatron's chambers. The dark clouds still loomed and a rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. Gabriel instinctively reached for his sword hilt, and gripped it tightly.

  “What does the voice of God command?” Gabriel asked.

  “What it always commands: Have Faith,” Metatron turned his face to look up.

  Chapter 8: The Fall

  The train ride was as boring as usual for Michael. He hated trains. They always made him feel uncomfortable, mostly due to the odd smells and unreliable nature. The train kept juddering too, which only added to his nerves. Michael found himself staring out the window for things to distract himself and thinking about Jasmine.

  Teenagers kept running up and down the train, shouting and swearing, yanking Michael away from his thoughts. "Bet they end up sitting across from me," Michael muttered. To hi
s suprise they congregated at the opposite end of the carriage; it soon became clear why.

  "Ticket please," a train guard asked. Michael rummaged through his pockets to find the ticket, and handed it to him. The guard looked it over in great detail before thanking him and walking off into the next carriage. He pointedly ignored the teenagers, obviously looking for easier targets to give fines to.

  A woman somehow managed to bump into Michael, interrupting him for a third time and nearly causing him to lose his temper. The woman looked like the girl he had seen at the bus stop, but with longer hair and a more slender figure. She smiled, apologised and went on her way, casting a couple of glances back at him. Why did she make him feel so uneasy? He just couldn't put his finger on it. Michael put it down to feeling guilty for looking at other women when his feelings for Jasmine were so strong.

  He glanced around at the people in the carriage. A father sat with his son in the seats directly to his side. In front of him, an elderly couple talked loudly about the failings in society and the public transport system, and a young man stood by the doors with a bike, propping it up between his legs as he read a book. All of these people had their Guardians watching over them, unlike him. That was why the woman made him feel uneasy, just like the woman at the bus stop, she had no Guardian.

  A sense of danger and a pang of anxiety built within his gut. Feeling very exposed without Jasmine, he looked to see if he was nearing his stop. No, he still had three more stops to go, which would be good ten minutes. He stood up just as a juddering tremor ran through the train, followed by the screech of failing brakes.

  The screeching stopped for a split second. Then came a huge bang and a tearing sound, louder than anything Michael had ever heard. He was thrown to the ground and thrown forward. The tearing sound continued. All around him, there was nothing but a chaotic frenzy of noises, the smell of smoke and darkness.