Hope's Light

Chapter 30

by Erisian

Book 6

 

If you have yet to read the saga - the tale starts here:

Into The Light

Hope you enjoy!

 

Chapter Thirty - Diplomacy

 

With everyone watching, I stepped to the table, filled a goblet, and downed it in one go.

Ugh. Whatever vintage Horatio had brought out this time, it wasn’t Asmodian. Nor I’d bet of the wines Vance had spoken highly about a long time ago, those crafted by the elves of Nidavellir. I’d forgotten how bitter were most of the offerings in Hell - heck, I’d even have preferred that Chardonnay from the dragon soiree I’d attended with Isaiah.

Dangit. Isaiah.

What was I going to tell my friend? That his greater spirit would eventually decide whether I should be allowed to exist? And if decided against, Azrael would be forced to destroy me.

Would that mean Isaiah would have to try to kill me too?

And what if I resisted? Or what if he did?

Crap. Crap crap crap.

I refilled the cup, and cringed through another long swallow.

No one spoke while I did. Some may have been holding their breath.

“Alright,” I finally said. “That sucks rocks disguised as chocolate covered almonds, but alright. It’s a future bridge to go storm and fall off of.” Deciding the alcohol was no longer worth the slime across the tongue, the goblet returned to the table. Looking the Servitors over again, I posed the obvious question. “You’re all free of Samael. And I could use the help. By show of hands, how many of you are willing to serve under my command?”

A small number of hands went immediately up - including Eleleth’s. But some stared at the table with unmoving arms, and others exchanged uncertain glances.

Saphiel spoke up. “You don’t mean to force us?”

“Hopefully not,” I said, face squinching like I'd bit into a lime. “But as Eleleth said, the other Sarim will hunt you if you just go off on your own. And I’ll be honest, proper wartime strategy would insist on heavily guarded protective custody rather than letting Beelzebub get his pincers into you.”

He frowned. “Then what choice do we truly have?”

I pointed to the end of the table. “Here’s an alternative. Serve him instead.”

All eyes followed, and Raguel - who had been deep in contemplation of all the consequences of the recent revelations - startled upright. “Excuse me?”

“You. Angel of Justice, Protector of Sanctuary. You need guarding, and also forewarning. As soon as there’s opportunity, Beelzebub will certainly make another attempt to ruin your day. From those attacks he wasn’t just trying to shred your manifestation - he wanted to end you entire. After all, oath-wise you’re fair game. But I figure with the help of these seers, you should stay one step ahead - and they can get word to me to pop my feathered butt over to save you should the need again arise.”

Camael, still sitting, nodded in agreement. “It is an excellent choice. The ideal of Sanctuary must be preserved.”

I stared at Camael, and considered. “You know, as Regent of the House of Light, you could simply take command of them all.”

He shook his head. “These crossed unto Hell before the title was granted. Just as you, I would needs must force their compliance.”

“Huh. Oh well.” Gesturing at the Servitors, I walked to the end of the table where Raguel and Camael perched. “Figure it out, folks. Take a moment amongst yourselves to decide.”

Chairs scraped against dirt floor, and some of them began to huddle. Whereas those who had already raised hands stayed put with airs of hard-earned patience despite any and all circumstance.

Standing close to the two at the corner, I regarded Raguel - and this time took a much deeper look. Wings were still out, so this time a pulse of brightness caught it.

Sanctuary.

Camael had been right, it existed within Raguel’s spirit - a necessity folded into the pattern where the brightest soul-orbs I’d ever beheld sat secure within an alternate space of lush greenery, freshest of streams, and gentle sun above, each radiating brilliant auras which would have shamed entire rainbows.

A miniature paradise locked into a timeless and unchanging scene.

There they waited, these souls of transcendent peace and serenity. Marking the continual ticks of clocks across eternity, all while yearning for release from these realms of perpetual darkness - away from an existence which could do naught but taint their glorious purity.

My god, they were beautiful.

In awe, I asked, “How could such exist in this place?”

Raguel smiled with great tenderness. “How can you?”

Staring at them, staring at him - a realization came into focus. “Your core, where Elohim’s Name once sat, their hope - their faith - keeps it full.”

“They sustain me, and I them. As I am their sanctuary, so too are they mine.”

Feeling remarkably unworthy, I worried a lip and came to decision. “Camael is right. This needs protection. What must we do? Hide you somewhere else?”

The smile faded. “The enemy knows my whereabouts. And any new place of mystery shall be revealed immediate within the Book of Secrets should he keep looking.”

“I’ve now taken the measure of this spot, these Spires. If need be I can port here direct from anywhere.”

Camael tapped the table. “Raguel’s presence - his essence itself - buttresses the effort of our friends. More will believe in their mission simply by his spirit being here. It is good if he stays.”

He may not have realized what he had just said, but I did. Camael had referred to Twitch, Maddalena, Horatio, and all the rest as ‘our’ friends.

They’d claimed his heart too.

“Then we fortify it further,” I declared. “Once a small matter is taken care of, I’ll send Nathanael and others here to supplement the defense. Deal?” I offered a hand to Raguel.

Reaching past the staff resting against a shoulder, Raguel clasped at my forearm instead, and wrist-to-wrist he held firm. “You know what truly must be done.”

Meeting the gaze of gold peering out from behind bangs of white, I nodded. “I’ve some ideas.”

For a moment the expression on the older being’s face was as fierce as his defense against Samael all those eons ago, but it - and the strength of his grip - then softened. “We shall abide. But there are many who have been doing so since time immemorial.”

Still dazzled by what lay hidden within him, I couldn’t stop staring. “I’ll try to hurry.”

“This is all for which we may ask.” He let go, but other weights remained.

Camael then spoke up about one of the many.

“How did Beelzebub achieve the Book?”

“Long story.” Okay, I may still have been giving the Regent a bit of the stink eye, and the clipped response carried that too.

Not that he was deterred. “Kalka’il was to give it to you.”

“Yeah, well, too-rigid secrecy interfered on several fronts. Then Alal meddled, and Matityah got his hands on the tome before I found Kalka’il.”

“Matityah?”

“Azrael’s son. Busted through the Fourth Seal and tossed the Book beyond Hell’s gate to keep me distracted. Kalka’il and the Powers were to continue chasing him and his pet Chaos blobs.”

If that shocked the ancient warrior, it didn’t show. Though the crimson fire from the uncleansed wing pulsed brighter. As for the one I’d reattached, it glowed a brilliant white almost as pure as my own.

“The Book,” I continued, realizing he really did need to be brought up to speed, “did its thing once here - appearing before a demon fanatically seeking the mysteries behind who and what I was. Beelzebub took it from his corpse while I was busy playing with a Child of Leviathan.” A hand moved to protectively cup the tiny spark dangling from my neck.

“Ah.”

Hmm, what else was there he needed to know. “Also, Shemyaza is now Cassiel and ruler of Dis. And most, though not all, of the other Sarim made me their Warleader to fight off the nonstop invasions of Flies - like the one you just witnessed.”

“You have been busy.”

“When the heck am I not? Speaking of which-” I turned back to the murmuring (or possibly bickering) Servitors, and called out to them. “Time’s up, everyone. As much as I’d love to stay here and abuse the generous hospitality, I’ve got places to go, enemies to defeat, and better wine to drink. What’s the breakdown? Any others willing to offer me their aid? Let’s see it.”

The suite of golden eyes stared back without blinking, and just over half now raised hands. To my surprise, Saphiel’s was among them.

Within, the Light did not hesitate - or give room for second thoughts. A burst flared from feathers spreading wide, and into all who’d lifted arms poured blazing intent as fresh letters of purest fire inscribed themselves unto the smeared space within where once Helel’s and Elohim’s Names had burned so true. This wasn’t simply a replacement, either - no, it was as an intricate key fitting into a perfectly matching lock. And having opened, the connection sparkled clear and immeasurable.

They now were mine, and I too was theirs.

There, in those shining presences, I felt something not experienced in a long, long time:

An absolute sense of belonging.

 

~o~O~o~

 

As much as I wanted to stay with Twitch and everyone else, certain pressing business simply couldn’t wait. Therefore did nine angels, glittering like diamonds reflecting a noonday sun, follow Camael and I between the realms, as we sped our return to Dis and its Citadel hovering between layers of fire and earth.

Nathanael and Cassiel met us at an entrance hatch more properly designed for a naval vessel, both boys earning rolled eyes and quick gesture for them to not bother with all that kneeling or saluting nonsense. As for Tsáyidiel, I’d already reached out to give him his orders on the way.

“No time for formalities, gents,” I announced. “Abagor is in his office, and his crew is in the war room. Nathanael and Cassiel, head to the Aerie with whomever you’ve rounded up - and take these Servitors with you. For now, they’ll follow Nathanael’s commands as if they were my own.”

Catching sight over my shoulder of the many additional presences burning behind, Cassiel’s eyes widened like a brilliant summer sky. “Where did you-”

“Tell you later. Camael is with me. Move.”

An impulse to argue flared, but Nathanael’s strong hand on a shoulder cut that short, and Cassiel instead only said, “Yes, Warleader.”

Nathanael did, however, ask a question. “Is Abagor being arrested?”

“Remains to be seen. Be ready either way.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Nathanael took a step back, pulling Cassiel with him to give enough room through the metal opening so I could step inside.

Camael and I then marched through the structure, wending our way through battle-focused corridors until reaching stairwells leading to the more opulent yet functional quarters above. Demon soldiers and officers, those who kept this station operational, carefully got the heck out of our way.

As we went, I caught myself absently rubbing at empty wrists. Glancing to the side to where the missing bracers had returned to be again amongst their matching pieces of armor, I forced myself to stop doing that.

Their true owner noticed. “Do you wish for them back?”

“No, I need to learn to stand without.”

“Ah.”

“They just…they’ve been a comfort.”

“I am glad.”

The last was spoken softly, and through the awkwardness lingering from our earlier conversations, we walked on in silence until we stood outside the wide double doors leading to Abagor’s personal office. It was one of many along this gilded and lushly carpeted corridor reserved for visiting angelics.

“Should this go sideways,” I said quietly, “remember that I want him alive.”

“Understood.”

Without further ado, the doors pushed open and we strode in.

Abagor, wearing the usual grey suit and black tie, sat behind a broad desk which took up the far side of the room. Unlike some who had set up offices here, he hadn’t wanted a circular mini-conference table, so the entrance and center were bare with only the thick burgundy carpet. In fact, he hadn’t even wanted chairs in the room besides his own high-backed leather executive.

Sure, a refreshment cart - one of those with two wheels which function a bit like a wheelbarrow when moved about - lurked in the near corner with glasses and decanter standing by, due to diligently being refreshed every few hours by an orderly. And the walls were painted with abstract lines weaving the impression of mountain peaks covered by fog, so it wasn’t entirely without something to stare at, if one got bored since there weren’t any windows.

He looked up as I came in and was about to say something, when Camael stepped in after me. Whatever words Abagor had in mind never got spoken, as all expression froze upon his carefully chiseled features.

“Butcher,” he said with forced calm, as the air around a hand shimmered from preparing to manifest a weapon.

“His title,” I said, striding purposefully across the empty carpet, “is Regent of the Seat of Light. You would do well to remember that.”

Because I willed it, the doors behind us closed on their own after our wings had cleared the doorway. My feathers may also have pulsed dangerously.

“Of course,” Abagor said slowly, gesturing away the floating displays which had hovered over his desk. “Warleader, you have returned.”

“Are you surprised?”

“That he…the Regent…is not only present, but healed? Yes.”

“Did you know where he’d been held captive?”

“Not before you.”

“How did…actually, nevermind. That’s not important.” I moved to the side of the desk, keeping wings to the wall. “What IS important is the detour we were forced to take before getting back here.”

“Detour, Warleader?”

“The Rock, Prince Abagor. Your assigned realm as Caretaker.”

Forefingers steepled above fists, and were brought against lips. “I see.”

“Do you. Because funny thing, that. Beelzebub attacked…and none of your Maschitim showed up to destroy his portals.”

“Unfortunate.”

“Isn’t it. If I hadn’t been able to transport instantly to provide aid, much would have been lost.”

Camael stood silently, with feet planted slightly further apart than parade stance would allow. Oh, and the blood-fire wing kept dripping flames onto carpet which had therefore started to smoke.

When you think about it, when needing a heavy as backup against a fallen angel, across all the manifest universes there probably wasn’t a better choice.

“I should check on them, then.”

“You may want to. Their eardrums are likely still ringing from the pulse Beliel’s instrument sent out to shatter those portals.”

That caught him, and the surprise registered as a blink. “The mace…took action?”

“I asked it to. Politely. To defend what you and yours would not. What was your price, Abagor?”

“Price?”

“What did Beelzebub offer you? And, by the way, I highly recommend being honest here. Otherwise the Servitors of Light I picked up along the way will pierce the past to discover it all regardless. I’m sure your people downstairs have already filled you in on their presences.”

The fingers lowered, and he reclined further in the chair. “You truly are astounding, Amariel.”

From behind, Camael in a gruff tone agreed. “She is.”

Not wanting the conversation derailed, I growled. “Spill the deal, Abagor.”

He considered, then nodded. “Very well. In exchange for my non-interference with his removal of Raguel, Beelzebub agreed to two terms.”

Maintaining cold focus, I said, “I am all ears. And they are?”

“Chiefly, that the Rock would never again be a target of his assaults.”

Okay, that earned a frown as implications began to dawn. “Interesting. And the other?”

“That, in the process, he eliminate a problem you and I share.”

A foot took step closer to the desk before catching myself. “You can’t mean-”

“I do. That situation requires resolution. But as you did not immediately declare to arrest, or even attack, my personage - then the Lilim and the rebels against the Ducal Council must still live. Or by my calculation this conversation would have already been less friendly given your...proclivities.”

“You bastard!” I snarled. “The Lilim are safe and sound, though many of those you called ‘rebels’ paid the price in full for this! Oh, and Raguel is just fine as well by the way!”

He had the audacity to sigh. “Also unfortunate.”

The desk was looking eminently punchable. As was the jerk sitting behind it. “You should pick a different term.”

“It applies. This arrangement would have protected Beliel’s artifact - which as you have seen up close carries tremendous power. Should Beelzebub manage to incorporate it into his ego-gestalt, he could gain the strength to shatter the Gate, and the Throne itself would tremble. All would suffer should this come to pass.”

“Like you care! You only wished to preserve your assignment, your status! And eliminate those who could testify against you regarding those Tears!”

“An added benefit. For both of us.”

“For me? How-”

“It should be obvious.” If he had dared, he would have rolled those harshly penetrating eyes. Instead he remained cool, something I was having a rather hard time with. “You are not Queen over Hell, Lady Amariel. The crown you wear, by your insistence, is that of Warleader only. Therefore you have gained no authority to pardon the Lilim for their crimes against our laws. This leaves Lilith open to conflict with the rest of the Sarim, which at present for our tenuous alliances we can ill afford.”

“Yet you betrayed-”

“I betrayed nothing. By this agreement was the realm under my protection assured of safety, and a political liability for our entire war effort potentially removed.”

“No, you betrayed me!”

“I promised no interference only at the arena - the Lilim are still within my protectorate, and you left them there. And you also abandoned your post here, without notice, to personally challenge Samael.”

Both hands pressed into the desk’s corner, causing wood to creak. “Did you know Raguel was at the Spires?!”

“Beelzebub informed of this via channels with his initial offer.”

“Raguel is under my protection, do you understand?!” That need flared within, the resulting power burning into the fallen Maschitim’s unwavering eyes.

“I do now.”

“So,” I said with clear distaste, “now what?”

“This depends on you.”

“Does it?!”

“Will you take vengeance upon me, Amariel of the Light? Shall you indulge that desire?”

“I desire justice!”

“To gain in war requires sacrifice. My acts were to advance the greater cause.”

“Does that make them right?!”

“Right or wrong is meaningless. Necessity in such circumstance rules all.”

“I don’t…I don’t know that I agree.”

“Then have the Butcher attempt arrest, and in my efforts to resist he shall destroy me. And watch then as this alliance collapses, watch as Beelzebub triumphs and swallows all.”

The thought of all those lost to this mess lay even more bitter across the tongue than had Horatio’s cheaper wine. Abagor was wrong, horribly wrong. Yet, from his perspective he was right - increased prevention of Beliel’s strength from ending up in Beelzebub’s greedy fingers was worth a lot. And arresting Abagor or causing any fuss over this would make matters worse - so much worse. The Fallen would first turn against me, and then immediately upon each other.

Their fears would rule.

“Dammit. And damn you!”

“I am in Hell. Already have I been damned eternally.”

I looked to Camael, looked to see what I should do.

From within that gold-lined helm, eyes burned not with suggestion. No, they sat calm and awaiting my order. Calm and…sadly resigned.

Crud.

“We,” I said bitterly, “seriously need to work on our communication.”

“Communication?” Abagor raised an eyebrow.

“Never mind. Fine. Say I don’t have Camael cut you down. At least, not today.” Past grinding teeth, I forced the words asking the immediate question. “Where would we go from there?”

Slowly the chair pushed back, and he stood. “We evaluate options. And with the unique capabilities you’ve recently demonstrated, along with the aid of the Servitors of Light you have brought, we proceed and win this war.”

“How?”

“By first deploying the Seers, and then proceeding much like you have wished for some time. If you’ll allow us to the War Room, I shall explain.”

Looking to me for permission to walk ahead, with a sour nod I gave it. Camael, however, didn’t budge, so Abagor needed to step around the armored warrior.

He made sure to give several feet of extra room as he did, and Camael swiveled to follow.

Exiting after them, I paused once in the hallway. “Hold up.”

Abagor stopped, and looked back.

While maintaining eye contact with the Fallen prince, I gave a short whistle. Out of the room behind us immediately came trotting an immense black panther who pulled up to brush against my hip.

I threw a not-entirely-pleasant smile to Abagor while scritching my beloved Hunter. “Now we can go.”

 

 

New chapters posted every Monday and Friday! If you're enjoying the story so far, let me know in the comments below! Thank you!

- Erisian