I had no answer, obviously, and I knew he wasn’t expecting one. It was purely rhetorical.
“Goodness is more than a power. It is a belief. An ideology,” Michael said softly. “All of the enduring religions of the world circulate around that basic premise. That Good is what is worthwhile. That its pursuit, doing unto others as they would have done unto themselves, as it were, elevates them. Separates them from the world of beasts.”
“Is it as simple as that?” I asked, wondering. “Being good? ‘Doing unto others yadda yadda? Isn’t it for a goal – to get something out of it? Go to heaven when you die?”
Michael raised his eyebrows at me, surprised at the question. “Admittedly, no. It serves an evolutionary purpose too. Men cannot survive without the goodwill of others, the cooperation of a like-minded society. If all they did was fight each other for resources – to acquire and achieve their own ends – power, as it were, then men would have died off long ago. However, in terms of the afterlife. . .” He shook his head.
“Mortality as you understand it was not in our contemplation. Unless a soul was destroyed by a Creature of Chaos, man and angel would live forever. All life as a finite concept happened just before the great Fall - when the Father took back the immortality of men after they invoked the power of the Disc. In truth, I know not what happens to mortal souls when they leave this earthly plane. On earth, man are accorded a limit on the years they live, and then, they die. I should like to think that the worthy find their way back to the Father, that those who have fought against the blackness inside and have put goodness above evil will find their way back to his blessed side.”
“Oh,” I said simply. I blinked a few times and tried to think of how to follow up from that.
Michael smiled at me. “This is all very much to take in. You’ve undergone considerable ordeals of late.”
“That’s the truth,” I whispered, closing my eyes. I wondered what happened to Sam when he died. If he was watching me from somewhere above, or if his soul had been simply snuffed out with his life. I didn’t want to think that was the case.
“Michael,” I asked, looking up at him. “Why do you think I’m different? What makes you think I’m this ‘Herald of the seraphim’?”
Michael walked towards me and reached a hand down to help me rise. I took it and felt as though a current of electricity passed through my body at his touch. His hands were warm and strong. Wide-eyed, I came to rest inches from his face. I blinked and stepped back, letting go of his hand. He smiled gently, turning towards the door. “I’d like you to join me for a walk, Larin, as there are some things I’d have you see. The rest may make more sense, after.” He turned and looked back, waiting for me. I walked slowly after him, and we made our way into the corridor, down the stone staircase towards the Great Hall.
As we came to the main level, a dozen eyes of black-winged creatures, ‘vessels’ like me, turned and watched us in open curiosity. It seemed it was strange for one of the archangels to be mingling with the common-folk. Michael nodded here and there but largely ignored everyone. We passed through the cavern entrance, the guards lining the way stomping their boots in salute as Michael passed.
“Where are we going?” I asked, still feeling very confused. Michael didn’t answer but looked back and gave me a gentle and reassuring smile. I kept up, my legs short compared to his, as best I could. I also used the opportunity to take in my surroundings again, marvelling at the beauty of the place.
We turned down a narrow pathway on the side of the mountain, the wildflowers lining every nook and cranny, ancient moss-covered trees lining the way. The sounds of the waterfall nearby could be heard and there was a gentle freshness to the air. The mist poked through here and there, contributing to the supernatural feel of the place.
“Avalon,” I said to myself, thinking of the mystical place of legend. Michael turned to me, surprised.
“Funny, you aren’t the first to describe this place thusly. The Citadel has been compared to many great places of magical legend. It does contain a certain charm,” he smiled. “We know it only as home.”
We arrived at another entrance lower down but also bearing the pennants of the Citadel, the ribbons of fabric swaying gently in the breeze. Michael stopped short, turning to me.
“This won’t be easy to see,” he admitted. I merely frowned, shrugging. I expected the unexpected, for better or worse.
We walked through the entrance and were taken to what I could only describe as a medical bay. There were bunks of beds lining the cave, also light and airy, but different from the Great Hall. Here, sounds of pain and suffering prevailed. The beds were filled with vessels, mostly young. . .some very young. The beings were clearly under the influence of some terrible affliction, an illness, and I felt the urge to hold my hand against my mouth, fearful of contamination.
We walked further inside, and I noted others like us – black winged creatures, tending to the ill. Cloths were laid on their heads, wrung out and placed again upon foreheads. Linens were being changed, legs were being rubbed to ease pain. There was clearly great suffering, here, and I tried to ignore the cries of pain I heard all around me but found I was unable. I looked around, afraid.
“Where are we, Michael?” I whispered.
“This is where the awakened come to stave off the sickness.”
“What sickness?” I asked.
“Larin,” Michael said, turning toward me and speaking in low tones to reduce the disruption to the ill. “I told you that you were different. vessels are hybrids. Angels and man, but neither. They have existed throughout the history of humankind, but in small numbers. Their purpose, as much as we can ascertain, is to maintain the balance between the forces of evil. Becoming a vessel, however, is extremely. . .unpleasant.”
“Unpleasant,” I repeated, looking around at the misery that existed here.
“The human body undergoes a significant metamorphosis during the change. It is not built to endure the assaults of the spirit that takes it over. It is a very painful and often a protracted process. It begins with a fever, and when the wings emerge, it can sometimes endure for weeks at a time.”
I looked at him, my mouth dropping open. THIS was what becoming a vessel entailed? I thought back to the twenty-four hours of sickness and discomfort I experienced. It was uncomfortable, but nothing like what was happening here. These people were clearly in agony.
“But, why?” I asked, trying to understand. “This didn’t happen to me!”
“We know, Larin,” said Michael slowly. “You are the first, in all of history, to have undergone the change without any ill effect. And, in fact, to have a sense of commandment of her body. It often takes a long time for the mind to adapt to the needs of the body, to the responses of the signals the wings send to the mind. You are the first, and therefore we cannot deny the possibility that you are special.”
“That I’m the ‘Herald,’” I said, an edge to my voice.
“Yes, Larin,” said Michael quietly. “The Herald.”
I turned around, not wanting to listen to the sounds of suffering anymore and closed my eyes. Michael came up behind me and laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. I felt so overwhelmed, so drained. This turned into a surge of anxiety, and I suddenly opened my eyes and bolted for the entrance. I ran outside and made a turn, not knowing which way to go but knowing I needed air and space. My wings opened as I ran, involuntarily, seeking to balance my body. I thought abstractly that I would take off in flight, and the thought both terrified and exhilarated me. I quelled it quickly, feeling guilt choking me. I did not feel I deserved anything but misery – the misery of those inside the medical bay. Nothing felt right.
I fell roughly at the banks of a riverbed and sobbed. Once I started, I found I couldn’t stop. It was the first moment I’d truly let go, truly allowed myself to grieve for everything that I lost, for everything that was, for everything that should have been.
I became suddenly aware of hands gently touching my should
ers, but I continued to weep.
“It’s so unfair,” I said. I knew it was childish. I knew it served no purpose to say it, but it all felt totally, and utterly unfair. I’d been dealt such a horrendous lot in my life, and now I was being thrown into a world I didn’t understand, a tremendous weight of responsibility potentially on my shoulders. I could barely keep it together as a human, let alone herald the coming of Divine Beings. Michael knelt low beside me and turned me into his arms. I didn’t resist – in fact, it was shocking just how much I wanted him to hold me, to comfort me. I could feel his aura of peacefulness, his tranquility.
“Don’t,” I said, thinking this was an enchantment.
“I’m doing nothing, Larin,” Michael said softly. “But I find. . .I do not wish for your sadness. It. . .troubles me.” He sighed and I leaned my face into his chest, regaining control and breathing in his strange scent. It was sweet, a mixture of the fresh, clean robes he bore, yet also something more. I breathed in quietly, not wanting to seem obvious. It was almost as though everything in his being, his makeup, was meant to be appealing somehow.
I sighed, leaning into the chest of an archangel.
“Are we re-enacting a scene from one of the tapestries in the Great Hall?” I asked, trying to lighten the strangeness of the situation. I could feel Michael chuckle softly.
“Why me?” I suddenly asked. He didn’t answer but rubbed my back gently and helped me to rise. “I’m serious, Michael, why me? I’m not anything. I’m nobody. If you knew anything about me, anything about my life. . .there is nothing. . .holy about me. . . if that’s even the right word.” I laughed shortly, then stopped. I felt like an imposter. I knew there was blackness within me, I felt it emerge with my wings, threatening to overtake me. I looked up quickly at Michael’s face, suddenly ashamed. I couldn’t bear the thought of him thinking poorly of me.
Michael was silent a moment longer.
“There’s an old saying that the Lord works in mysterious ways.”
I looked at him in shock. “You’re not about to sprout biblical on me now? After everything that you just told me. . .about . . .the truth of things? You’re going to crack old lines and clichés now to explain things away?”
“It is a cliché. But can it not also be true?” Michael responded, pensive. He absently stroked my hair, an action so surprising in its normalcy that I felt momentarily confused. It was so human.
“Can it not be true that perhaps the Father is, in fact, watching and working in the shadows? I do not know the answer to that question, but I maintain the faith. Faith in my purpose. Faith that humanity is built to endure, and we, along with it.” He tilted his head, inspecting my face. A cloud passed over his eyes, but he quickly resumed his air of quiet stoicism.
“You still have choice, Larin. It is the greatest gift mankind was given, and despite the calamity of the Fall, the loss of everything that went with it – you still have that power. You may be the Herald, and this I don’t know for certain. It does not matter in the end. You will be given a choice, and what you do with it is up to you.”
I looked at him in astonishment, feeling I had just heard a prophecy. I felt a shudder of fear run over my body. Michael chuckled and squeezed my hands.
“I do not say this to frighten you, Larin. I speak only the truth. Humans, vessels, even archangels were given freedom. It is our most precious gift. Some have used it to create chaos, and some have used it to create light out of that chaos. You may find that soon that the decision is yours. It is yours, and it is powerful.” There was complete silence between us as we looked into each other’s eyes. I felt he had seen my darkness, and I felt shame again. I looked down, unable to meet Michael’s eyes.
“Your heart will guide you, Larin,” Michael said.
He turned suddenly and started walking up the path. I stared after him, feeling a strange emptiness in our physical parting. I felt confusion still, my mind working against the confines of sense and reason.
“Come along,” he said and smiled. “There is more I would have you see, but the darkness is done for the day.”
I sighed, taking a deep breath, and followed.
Michael and I walked side by side for a time, and I occasionally stole sidelong glances at him, marvelling again at his beauty. His aura of enduring power and strength. Michael was content simply to walk, staring ahead with a peaceful expression on his face, his hands behind his back.
“Michael,” I asked, “Why were there so many vessels back there? How come people haven’t ever seen them? Heard of them? Surely these episodes of awakening couldn’t escape notice.”
“That is an excellent question, Larin,” he replied, looking at me. “And under normal circumstances, I would tell you it is absolutely abnormal.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, confused. Michael took a breath, frowning.
“It seems that Azrael has found a means of awakening the vessels in greater numbers.” There was a severe tone to his voice. “We believe he has found an ancient evil that will awaken the armies who will rise again.”
I froze, staring at him.
“What do you mean?” I asked again, more firmly and stopping suddenly. We had come upon a glade in our ascent back up the mountain. An ancient statue poured water from a large jug into a pool where cherubic angles were seen in various stances of play. Birds sat on the edge, speaking merrily to each other in chirps and whistles. I noticed wild rose bushes of deep red surrounding the place, and my mind wandered back into the realm of mystical places of legend I’d read about in books. I tried to ignore the enchanting aura of the place, the benches of stone that beckoned me to sit and quietly absorb the beauty of the natural surroundings.
“For millennia, Larin, vessels awoke once in a lifetime. Usually in response to the loss of another, a replacement. As I said before, vessels are a means of ensuring a balance between good and evil. They awaken in times of turmoil, in strife, when Azrael found a foothold that threatened humanity.”
I looked at Michael, shaking my head. “So, why now? How many are there?” I asked, afraid of the answer.
“When there is a vessel close to awakening, it is like a homing beacon. A signal is sent, and we all feel it, know of it, how to find it. It is how we have avoided the eyes of man for so long. We usually capture the vessel before the awakening occurs, or shortly thereafter. But it seems that there are. . .many more. There are awakenings nearly every day now. Every day.”
He looked troubled, and I could understand why. I shuddered to think of what this meant for the world.
“It is a race to get to them before Azrael,” Michael continued. “Thus far we have fewer numbers than are desirable. We know not how he managed to wake the vessels, though we have our suspicions.” He said nothing more, and I thought immediately of my friends. Of the potential danger.
“Michael, is this the end of the world?” I asked, afraid of the answer. Michael said nothing for a time before sighing.
“I do not know,” he replied. “But part of me, if I am truly honest, hopes so. If it means the return of the seraphim. The return of the Divine Order.”
“You can’t be serious,” I gasped, my mouth opening.
“I told you, I was being truthful,” Michael admitted. “But my priority, my sole purpose, is to protect man. I will do that above all else. Do not ever doubt that.”
I saw a flash pass through his eyes, and I felt I understood it. I, like Michael, felt what it was to be alienated. Alone. Harboring a great secret, and even a responsibility I should never have been given. He would have felt it since the dawn of time. I felt I understood his pain, despite the magnitude of the eras between us. Because of that, I felt I also understood his desire for peace.
“I would give anything for a moment to be back in the celestial kingdom. But to a point,” he added, looking at me quickly. “I would never do anything to expedite or promote humanity’s demise. But I, like man, sometimes struggle with my desires, with my nature. I suppose the Father made us so,
to make us understand humanity. Empathy.”
I nodded, sighing again. “So, how did Azrael go about this, Michael? Will you tell me?” I asked. “Does this have to do with my being the Herald somehow?”
“Perhaps.” He turned from me and took a deep breath, shrugging. “None of us have those answers now, Larin. We wait, we search, and we bide our time. For now, we must continue up the path. I have not finished showing you the Citadel.” He smiled and I knew he was trying to change the subject, but I let it go.
We walked easily together, he occasionally remarking about some point of interest, some landmark of note. There were a great many talented architects who graced these grounds, once. Perhaps still. I wondered what happened to the others.
We walked under a great, stone tunnel nature itself had bore out of the mountain, towards sounds of metal clinking in the distance. I froze, remembering the sounds of Ephreim and the others fighting, still traumatized from recent events.
“There is nothing to fear here, Larin. We are approaching the training grounds.”
I nodded, feeling my heart speed up in response to the sounds, despite Michael’s reassurances.
We came to a field on the side of the mountain, the great valley visible in the distance. Black wings could be seen ducking in and out of the cloud cover beyond, and I wondered again how many creatures were dwelling here in this city beyond the reach of man.
Tristan was standing atop a small hill, his hands behind his back, watching over a dozen vessels parrying back and forth in practice. Iris stood beside him, yelling something at a group who were practicing below. There were various levels of skill here, and I saw those who moved with the grace and ability that comes from long experience. Huddled on one side of the field, several young vessels were sitting around a circle, listening to instruction from a figure in authority who was demonstrating the use of thrusting with a sword.
Iris looked up and noticed our approach, first confused at seeing Michael, then glowering at me when she saw me in tow. Tristan looked up as well, nodding at Michael before giving me a brief smile. As we approached, several other vessels who had been standing near Tristan noticed Michael and ceased what they were doing, bowing respectfully.
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