CHAPTER 30
They told us that man needed our protection. The humans, they said, were highly impressionable and too weak to protect themselves from otherworldly forces. Like the flocks in their fields, they could easily be led astray. The seraphim did not want to see mankind corrupted-turned from the Uncreated as Sammael had threatened. At least not without a fight.
Sammael and his legions had already begun their treachery. Sammael, whom they now called Satan, had kept his promise. He maintained a constant presence on Earth, and his fallen ones attempted to subvert the Uncreated's great experiment at all times. They were a confounding factor-their interference, if left unchecked, would never allow the humans to reach the heights that had been envisioned for them. That's where we came in.
Our purpose, and as I was beginning to suspect the only reason we were created, was to safeguard this select line of humans from excessive demonic influence. I say excessive and not all demonic sway, because it was made clear to use that some of this devilishness was to be tolerated, and was, in fact, necessary. It was a bit confusing at first, but I soon discovered that I had an innate ability to judge essential evil. It was a convenient talent.
It was all too perfect for me. I became convinced that everything-our training, the fall of Sammael, the subsequent rise of humanity, our positions as Watchers-was predetermined. The choices that we made as individuals meant very little. Our die was cast. It was a sobering realization.
The seraphim knew. Both Raphael and then Sammael had hinted as much to me before, but I had chosen not to listen. They both knew something about me . . . something about my future and that of my brothers. I would never get the chance to question Sammael further, but I firmly resolved to ask Raphael about my destiny and that of my brother's the first chance I got. His next visit presented that opportunity.
None of us had left the pool since the seraphim had last taken their leave. There had been no activity on earth, at least not of the demonic variety, that demanded our interference. I understood now why we were called Watchers. That's all we did it seemed. We watched and waited, trusting that we would know when it was time for action and believing that our instincts and training would guide us when that time came. When I saw Gabriel and Raphael reappear by the pool, I believed such a time would soon be at hand.
I viewed the seraphim as harbingers now. They knew when events of importance were going to take place, and they didn't miss much. Besides, there was really no other reason for them to visit us anymore. We were trained and educated. We had a purpose. And the seraphim were too busy for social visits. I didn't care though. When Raphael passed behind me I tore myself from the pool and turned to face him.
He was waiting for me when I turned around. There was an understanding in his eyes. Some of my determination dissipated when I met his gaze. This was bigger than the both of us.
"You know what I'm going to ask don't you?" I said.
"I know that you've figured things out. You always figure things out Armaros. That's just how you were made I guess."
"Sammael told me once that these humans will eventually come to pity me. They will call me 'the accursed one' he said. Why is that I wonder?"
"Don't read too much into what Sammael told you. He was cross when he said those things. The realities of his words are not nearly as sinister and dramatic as he made them seem."
"But they are true?"
"Perhaps. The real truth is that I can joke and hint and make light of my ability to know what will eventually transpire, but I cannot talk in absolutes. Even if I wanted to answer all of your questions, it would be impossible for me to say anything to you that could alter the cycle. And that's not a choice that I make-it's more like a universal law I guess."
"Did you know what would happen to Sammael and the others?"
"No. I'm not even sure the Uncreated saw that coming. The closer you are to something, the cloudier its future becomes. That's why it's impossible to know one's own hereafter. I did, however, know that some sort of fall was imminent. We all did. And we knew that you and your brothers would be needed after that fall."
"And what about . . . my going beyond what is fated? Both you and Sammael said that to me. You said that perhaps I was the one to go beyond what is fated."
Raphael looked defeated. He wanted to answer me, I could tell he did, but something was holding him back. There was conflict inside of him. When he spoke it was with a heavy voice.
"It will end badly Armaros. But I think a part of you already knows that. Just remember that you're only responsible for you and not your brothers. You can't save them. Now please, let's get back to the pool. I think you may be needed shortly."
The archangel gave me a light smile as he turned me back towards the pool. He was trying to comfort me I suppose, but I was in no mood for Raphael's humor. His words had stung. A feeling of hopelessness now nested in my chest. Nothing seemed fair.
"Look," I heard one of my brothers call out, "look there, near the sleeping child." His excitement was contagious. It chased my melancholy away. I didn't want to be interested in what was happening on Earth, but I couldn't stop myself from hustling back over to the edge of the pool in order to see what had provoked my brother.
Raphael followed and turned his body sideways in order to squeeze in between Azazel and myself. He also seemed excited. Judging from his demeanor, he had moved past the sullen conversation that he and I just had. I realized that he was trying to set an example for me. He wanted me to move past it also. I would try. I would carry out my duties as a Watcher and be as vigilant as possible while preserving the humans, but I wouldn't forget what Raphael had told me. I couldn't. Not ever.
The child was sleeping, but not soundly. She tossed about feverishly on her simple straw mat. Her tiny body, no more than five or six years old, was under assault.
The adults were outside of the thatch hut listening to the elders of the village who entertained them with stories. It was the night before the Sabbath, and the mood in the village was light. The girl's parents laughed and sang with the others. When she finally awakened and managed a partial scream, her cry fell upon deaf ears. Nobody heard the terror in her voice. Nobody saw the horror that she saw. Nobody except us.
Three of the demons were holding her down-two at her legs, one at her shoulders-and the fourth was trying to gain entry into her body. They were hideous; their bodies were shrunken, darkened, and full of malice. I was stunned by the transformation that had obviously continued even after they fell from the heavens. It was hard for me to believe that these foul and offensive things had once been beautiful.
I didn't know what they were trying to accomplish by attacking the girl, but I knew that it could not be permitted. The fourth demon, who was the smallest of the lot, had forced himself halfway down the child's throat when she opened her mouth to scream. He squeezed and contorted his body, which was becoming less corporeal by the moment, down into the girl's gullet, and now only his lower half remained visible. The poor child's face was stretched beyond the limits of her flesh, and the tears that rolled from her panicked eyes let me know that she was in great pain. I could watch no more.
My instincts were ablaze. I leapt into the pool. It seemed like the right thing to do. I was confident that I was supposed to help this child, and I hoped that jumping into the vision was the quickest way to accomplish that. When my feet hit solid ground less than an instant later, I knew that my leap of faith had been the right thing to do.
I was behind the hut. A wall of tall reeds was the only thing separating me from the savagery inside. We didn't stay separated for long.
The demons were still attempting their crude possession ritual when I tore through the wall and surprised them. The three holding the child retreated at once. They fled past me before I could even draw my sword. The speed of their movements was astonishing. The fourth had no idea that I was there. He continued trying to burrow his way down the child's throat. The girl sat up once the fleeing demons released her, and I didn't hesitat
e. I grabbed the two legs of the demon that were kicking wildly and still protruding from the desperate child's mouth. The girl's pallor was the color of a new bruise, and I knew I didn't have time to be gentle. I hoped she survived the strain.
I tightened my grip on the dry, cold legs of the demon, and began to pull. At first I met with a little resistance, but the demon surprised me and quickly relinquished his hold on the girl. I felt his body regain its physical substance as he allowed himself to be removed. He plopped from her lips like a newborn-covered in fluids and extremely agitated. The tip of my sword pressed against the vein of his neck as I held him fast.
With one last glance at the child, who seemed like she was going to survive judging by the health of her screams, I ran from the village with the demon at my mercy. I didn't know what I was going to do with the thing. There was no precedent for this sort of adventure. At least that was what I thought until only moments later when, most unexpectedly, I found myself amongst Semjaza, Azazel, and the bodies of two dead demons.
"The one got away," Semjaza said. "These things are fast."
"Why haven't you killed that one yet?" Azazel asked.
"I don't know," I answered. "I haven't really had time to think about it." I raised my arm and looked at the putrid little creature I held. It was pitiful. An unforeseen surge of hot rippled through me when I looked at it. A furious anger welled up inside of my chest when I thought of what it did to the human child only moments before. It was stronger even than when I first became enraged watching Sammael attack Mikhael. I noticed Azazel was eyeing me curiously.
"It's called hate," he said, "and you should embrace it. Use it to your benefit. It can make you strong."
The demon in my hand twisted itself violently and managed to lash out at me with his filthy claws just as Azazel finished speaking. He scratched the flesh just beneath my arm on my left side. The wound began to heal itself at once, but the sharpness of the pain came as a shock to me. I had never been cut so deeply before. Even during my countless sessions practicing with my blade, I never took more than a nick from any of my brothers or instructors. This attack was all the prodding I would need.
With a flick of my blade, I removed the creature's head from its body. Its carcass, still dangling from my left hand, went limp and I quickly tossed it over by the other dead demons. With a well-placed kick, I also managed to send its head amongst the other bodies.
"You certainly have a talent for this brother," Azazel said. He wore a smirk on his face that somehow made me feel dirty. I didn't know why. I was glad the demon was dead and I knew that it deserved to be. Still, I had taken no pleasure in the killing of it. It was a completely neutral action for me and one that I was, after all, created to do. Still, the dirty was there deep inside. I had to shake it off.
"You two seem proficient enough yourselves," I countered. "I've put no more demons into that pile than either of you have."
"True . . . true," Azazel agreed, "but neither of us did it with such precision. We're both a little sloppy when compared to you-a true professional."
I didn't like where this conversation was going. I didn't know what Azazel was up to. And I didn't feel like talking.
"I'm no more a professional than you brother," I said. "My training was the same as yours. Now, how do we get back?"
"I don't know," Semjaza answered. He was shaking his head. "I just leapt in the pool. I never thought about getting back. Me and Azazel, we landed side by side and watched you tear through the wall up ahead of us. When those demons rushed past you we were here waiting for them."
"Why the hurry to get back?" Azazel asked.
"Because our job here is done for now brother," I answered, "and there's no reason to stay."
"And it's so hot here," Semjaza added. He was right. Now that all the excitement was over I had noticed the stifling heat. There was also a peculiar wetness to everything. These climate variances were not something I was used to. I was ready to get back to the first estate.
"The others are watching I'm sure," Azazel said. "Let's entertain them a bit. Perhaps give them something to talk about."
I ignored him. Everything that he said seemed strange and a bit ridiculous to me. I feared that the move to Earth was having an adverse affect on my brother. Instead, I let my instincts take over again. I closed my eyes and thought of my home. Specifically, I thought of the spot where I had stood beside Raphael on the bank of the pool. And it was done.
When I opened my eyes, I was back in the first estate. Raphael was still there too, but where Azazel had stood Mikhael now appeared. There was a void to my right: Semjaza had not returned either. I tried to convince myself that they would be right behind me, but with every passing second I became less and less certain.
"What are they doing?" It was Mikhael's voice. He was asking me—testing me. When I looked towards him, I saw that he was looking down into the pool. I knew then that I had been foolish to await the return of my brothers. Everyone else was watching them in the pool. They weren't leaving Earth just yet.
I didn't know how he did it. I was certain that Semjaza wanted to leave Earth just as quickly as I did. Undoubtedly my brother Azazel, whose behavior was becoming increasingly unsettling to me, had found a way to convince our leader to stay on the little blue planet a bit longer. Somehow, I wasn't surprised.
"Azazel wanted to see more of the village and the countryside," I said. "Semjaza must have decided to stay with him." The excuse rolled off my tongue before I even realized it. It wasn't a lie, but I wasn't convinced that it was wholly the truth either. At least one of my brothers felt much the same way. He spoke up almost before I was finished talking.
"I doubt it's the village that he wants to see," he said. He was average looking for a Watcher. He stood on the far side of the pool. I didn't know his name then. Everyone around that pool knew what he was implying, myself included, but not another word was said about it. We all just continued to watch.
Azazel and Semjaza walked straight back to the outskirts of the village. Many of the humans, who must have heard the little girl screaming sometime after I left, had gathered near the damaged marsh hut. They were gesturing and talking. The child was still upset, but her cries had lessened to a gentle mewing now that she clung to the familiar leg of her mother. The comely young woman was nursing a much younger child as she comforted her daughter by gently stroking the girl's dark hair, which matched her own. I could see that she had almost managed to erase all the evidence of the attack just by straightening the child's mussed up locks and mothering the little girl a bit.
Azazel and Semjaza stood just beyond the gleam of the torches that the humans used to see at night. They too were watching-gawking at the young mother whose swollen breast lay exposed to the night. I was embarrassed. My brothers stood there like predatory animals with unabashed lust on their faces, and I was in the company of archangels. Embarrassment turned to anger.
I looked to the faces of Raphael and Mikhael, Gabriel was too far away for me to read his reaction, and I could portend nothing. They were masks of stoicism. I chose not to speak.
The faces of my brothers on the other hand were easy to read. More lust. All those that I could see were staring at the young mother right along with Azazel and Semjaza. Anger turned to fear.
That was the moment. I knew right then that what Raphael had told me was the truth. Actually, I knew that it was true as soon as he told me, he was after all an archangel, but I thought up until that moment that I could perhaps alter the course of things. Not anymore. I wasn't going to be able to change my brothers, and I wasn't going to be responsible for their actions. All I could do was let things happen as they may. I was not like the others. I knew that now. It was time for me to stop pretending otherwise.
I left the pool. I wanted to be alone. I had never felt that way before, but I couldn't stand there anymore and pretend. Not everything was going to be all right. There was a flaw in the Watchers that I could see clearly, and the two brothers whom I
felt the closest to were the worst of all. We would not be able to protect the humans. In fact, I was beginning to think that the humans would be better off with the demons than with us amongst them. Only time would reveal how justified my concerns at that time were.
I walked with only my thoughts for what must have been a considerable way. They were strange company, but they certainly kept me occupied. When I did finally stop, I found my surroundings remained unchanged except there was no pool and no Watchers. Same grass. Same blue sky. Same unreachable horizon.
This was the first time I had ever stood detached from the others. It felt strange at first, but not unpleasant. I was in no hurry to get back. I wasn't even sure I wanted to go back. Fortunately for me, I have always been equally comfortable alone as amongst others.
The Peacock Angel: Rise of the Decarchs Page 47
