Hope's Light

Chapter 34

by Erisian

Book 6

 

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

Into The Light

Hope you enjoy!

 

Chapter Thirty-Four - Departures

 

Having become acclimated to flying the spaces between realms, the trip was uneventful and direct. Not as quick as an immediate translation, but I wasn’t ready to test such maneuvering to patterns not ingrained in both memory and heart.

Somehow both felt necessary.

Arrival through the mists to the beach lined with shadowed cliffs was therefore simple, and without delay the moss-tinged angel Posri led again up the mountainous steps to the garden and its many statues of memorialized sacrifice.

Passing by them all, I chewed a lip, wondering if our host had yet erected one for Tsáyidiel. If he had, I wasn’t sure I wanted to see it.

Breaking down in front of a fallen archangel was not something I wished to deal with.

Again in his simple wheelchair, we found Asmodeus waiting instead before the empty plinth where Camael’s wing had once floated, the marble surface still pitted and scarred from the absent feathers’ dripping flames. He huddled now under a thick beige blanket against the chill wind whistling between his treasured memorials.

Noting his shivers, I skipped the usual formal greetings. “Maybe we should go inside.”

“Hmph. I would claim that I am fine, but such would be an obvious lie.” The one eye burned red and irritated, and the skin even on the face’s undamaged side hung sallow to droop over the bones. “Not,” he said with a rough chuckle, “that I am a stranger to fabrication.”

“You really don’t look too good, Asmodeus.”

“Manifestations of the deeper trauma,” he admitted. “Still, I yet exist.”

“I received word you wanted to see me.”

“Yes!” With effort, he straightened. “Travel, as you may imagine, for me has become troublesome. Having just arrived, I held no desire to again immediately depart - yet I wish to convey congratulations on your victory.”

“Somehow I doubt you had me visit just for that.”

A chuckle turned into a wrenching cough, and with a sneer of disgust he spat blood to the side. “Of course not. Follow.” Gripping the metal circles inscribed within the rubber wheels, he pushed himself across bare rock.

Curious but cautious, I walked behind him, and soon we sat and stood before that smaller yet more violent plinth I had noticed before - the one whose contents were bound by a fiery seal forged of the fallen archangel’s will and Name.

That which was trapped within continued to rage.

Sparks and flame, occluding any vision of what was inside, continuously boiled against the imposed script, as energy pulsed with determined fury of crimson-tinged indigo.

With Asmodeus’ failing condition, those securing bonds had begun to crack.

“What’s in there?” I asked, fearing he was about to give me something new to wrestle against.

He gestured towards the writhing binding. “When last we spoke amongst my pearls, it appalled you to conceive our great War against Heaven as necessary. Yet I know with certainty that Hell still serves a greater role, that our existence and struggles were not only right but needed.”

“Still serves? Or potentially could serve. The two are not the same.”

“You were not there, when Lucifer in his rage-filled pride falsely believed we no longer deserved existence.”

“I have borne witness to Gabriel’s memory.”

The bloodshot eye swung up, and after a moment’s consideration, the angel nodded. “Then perhaps you will understand after all.” Without waiting for response, Asmodeus plunged a hand through the binding, the intact half of his skull snarling fiercely with the effort.

And against the pain.

Hot flame burst up his arm, and with a shout and toss, what he pulled free clattered and spun across the stone floor.

“There!” he snapped, as he smothered his still-burning skin with the blanket. “There lies the proof! Though it curse my every touch!”

Glowing as if retrieved direct from an active forge, a sword’s hilt smoked where it had landed upon the rock. Only a sharp nub of a previously attached blade extending from the black circular tsuba still remained.

I couldn’t help it. I gaped in absolute astonishment. “Is that…??” Words failed.

“Behold,” he growled, his own fury smothering the pain, “that which was the second-most prized item of my collection until you shattered to pieces the first. Behold this shard of Azrael, cast unto Darkness at the moment of our false imprisonment!!”

Taking a step towards it, the handle - wrapped and bound like the most simple yet elegant tachi - sparked fresh fire. Not daring to get closer, I crouched before it instead, and the flames died down - though not entirely. “It’s really not happy.”

“Not…happy?!” Asmodeus' laughter grew into a bellow, before twisting instead upon additional choked and bloody phlegm. Wheezing, he wiped a tear from the eye with a freshly-seared hand. “Are any of us?”

“How…?”

“How did it get here?” He inhaled, a process slow and painful. “More appropriate is not a question of how, but why.”

“Then why?!”

“Creation refused to let us fall into nothingness. That should tell all that you need know.”

Having spent a fair amount of time pondering that vision, I nodded. “Hell is still a part of What Is.”

“And Azrael…” he prompted.

Dang, this was like being stuck back in Kirov’s metaphysics classroom. “Azrael defines the boundary, at that level he is the boundary. For Hell to still be part of Creation, Azrael must encompass it. A piece of him had to come here.” Like with the Seals on Earth. Good grief. ‘As Above, so Below’ in spades. “Why show this to me?”

“Because I offer a trade.”

“A trade?” Attention tore away from the black-on-black handle, and returned to the broken - and freshly singed - angel.

“Your time as Warleader has closed. Much as I desire for your continued service in uniting us against our truest foe, your Purpose clearly draws you immediately elsewhere. Even now you endeavor to again escape this prison, though likely not by use of the same dramatic method previously employed.”

“How would you know that?”

Sharp yellowed teeth grinned, and they weren’t exactly friendly. “Because your overly-tender heart upon that sleeve cannot bear to do such alone a second time.”

Being unable to deny, I said nothing.

“Fear not, for I wish only for your success! Indeed, I offer assistance.” He pointed a finger more bone now than flesh towards the handle. “For a price.”

Tensing, or more accurately bracing for impact, I went ahead and asked the question. “Which is?”

“I am owed a crown, Archangel and Archon. Leave me your freshly-leafed circlet of gold, and take with you instead this slice of Judgment.”

“You want to keep a piece of me here in Hell.”

“We had but one tiny shard of the Light on which to hold, and by your hand was it destroyed. And the greater threat of Leviathan remains.”

“That relic you clung to, with its fading battery of ancient power, at the core that crown sat empty! It contained not his Name, surely you knew this!”

“Very few could see that deep. It was a symbol, nothing more…and nothing less."

I glared as emotion churned against reason, and again said nothing.

“Is it so wrong,” he added to the charged silence, “to ask for another?”

Remembering similar words, the golden leaf-embossed crown slipped free from my hair. “No. Damn you, but no. Keep it safe, Asmodeus - and if you cannot, it goes to Nathanael’s keeping, you understand?”

An eager yet damaged hand took the gleaming wreath from mine. “I do, and also-”

His words cut short, as the circlet flared with interruption. To our mutual bewilderment, the flesh across his fingers began to heal - not the underlying scourge inflicted by the Child of Leviathan, but only that which the implement of Azrael had moments ago imposed with its fiery rage.

When the Light eventually faded, the hand was again whole.

I broke our mutually stunned silence. “You were going to say something.“

He continued to marvel at skin no longer damaged. “I was.”

“Not used to being surprised?”

“After a status quo of eternity? I suppose not.”

I scoffed. “Happens to me all the time.”

“And this is why you may succeed.” Resting the circlet on his covered lap, even his breathing began to ease. “The artifact of he who renamed my lord’s shattered seat is yours. If you intend to use that Spear of impossibilities to strike down Elohim’s Wall, with this relic I suggest an alternate course.”

“Which is?”

“Build instead a bridge. Remove not the hilt and the power it represents from Hell, nor keep it from Heaven’s reach.”

I reached out from the crouch, fingers filling with Light both mine and from above. For they filled with all the love I held for my incarnate brother and Aradia’s angelic uncle.

The fires within the handle dimmed, accepting the tentative touch.

As I lifted the precious item from the stones, the Fallen angel’s bloodshot eye squinted against the glow. “You burn with the holy flame of a Seraph in her prime. Beware not to scorch those you would carry, for that full glory shall be needed to succeed.”

“I know. I’ve an idea about that.”

“Go then, and pursue it.” He smirked as the redness within the eye also began to clear. “Perhaps I shall yet bear witness to what must come.”

“In that case, Asmodeus, until we meet again.”

“Until then.”

Both lighter and heavier than before arrival, on wings of crystal did I depart.

There was only one more place to visit before everyone needed could gather at Lilith’s painted tower.

 

~o~O~o~

 

Before me again rose a towering grey-cloaked spirit, his sandaled feet straddling the felwood decks of a mighty vessel. Except this time I hovered at his eye level, shining truth instead of dissembling as I had previously.

This had thrown the poor guy off his game, as twice already had he raised finger as if to say something then stopped, thinking better of it.

I smiled. “You’re wondering why I am here.”

“In this form, you have no need of the boat.”

“Ah. Well, on that you are incorrect.”

“You have wings on which to soar.”

“So do you. I caught a glimpse of them before.”

“Gone are those days of Host and Glory.”

Feathers behind me stretched further, bathing him in illumination as they also spread their shine across the past.

To see there what had been expected.

“How many,” I asked more softly, “did you save as they fell between these realms unto the Abyss? Before the Light dimmed beyond what was necessary to trace and catch their passage. Before heartbreak brought you here.”

The boat tilted, floating there upon boiling waters which were not water. “Not enough.”

“Then I ask, would you rise to those heights once again? For many have need.”

“I am the Boatman, nothing more.”

“Yet within you lies another moniker, one sleeping and buried but there - for in ages past before the Houses united, you shepherded angels across the vast churning Deeps between, and not over this shallow and acidic reflection.”

“I…I am the Boatman.”

“I care nothing for the lesser labels others have since applied. And I see true, you have never forgotten.”

“I am…”

A brightness more intense than the flaming ceiling high above burst outward, driving away all shadows upon these bony shores. Indeed, skeletons collapsed into fine powder, their dust sweeping clear by a rising wind. “Hear me, Supreme Lord of the Waters - angels and souls again call to your glorious Purpose! For they are in need of passage betwixt tides they otherwise may never cross!!”

Behind the tattered and sea-weary cloak, a lattice of feathers other than mine began to spark and glitter. “But I am-”

“You are the angel Phuel!! And by this redeclaration of your holy Name is the price paid for your freedom, and for your aid to all in such need. Do you accept?!”

The mindless souls serving at the oars upon the boat trembled, and with return of long-forgotten awareness, all peered into the burning Light hovering above.

And also to the brightly winged giant angel standing tall upon their ship.

“I do.”

 

~o~O~o~

 

Beautifully colored paintings hung over us, their towering figures arching across the broad and domed ceiling. Gone was the hole where conflict had opened passage to burning sky, although the fresh patch of concrete remained blank and unpainted.

Despite our feathered gathering having taken forms much shorter than illustrated, Lilith’s actual presence dominated the carefully crafted reproductions stretching above. Her emerald dress no longer bore the stains of slaughter, but threats of possible resumption of such burned behind violet eyes - and in words’ tone.

“My son and granddaughters, I was led to believe they would be here.”

“As was I,” said Abagor, whose attention kept flicking towards the simply robed angel standing off on his own in contemplation of the small ritual wading pool besides the portal stones.

“Should we come to an agreement,” I said, “then will they come.”

“Agreement?” Lilith’s arms crossed below silk-covered curves. “They are mine.”

Abagor, as always wearing the bland business suit, refocused. “They have been convicted of high crimes in my domain. Their release would cause-”

“Not my concern!” she hissed. “Your fear of additional rebellion against the feudal demons matters not!”

His features hardened. “This goes beyond responsibilities within my realm, but to the compacts between the Sarim necessary for our preservation. Perhaps instead you prefer I invoke a Conclave and enjoin your offspring’s testimony with our former Warleader set as Judge?”

She shook her head. “Careful, Abagor, you know where that would lead.” She readily met his glare. “You have no more desire for that than I.”

“I am prepared for truth. Are you?”

Without shifting her gaze, she spoke then to me. “Amariel. Clearly you have an alternate proposal, or else that one,” a purple-painted fingernail pointed towards the figure bending over the pond, “would not be here. Let’s hear it.”

Despite the tension flaring between them, I shrugged. “It’s simple. Vance and the Twins shall be banished from Hell entire. The politics become rather moot at that point, would they not?”

Abagor blanched. “Surely you don’t intend to carry them through the Chaos? Their spirits cannot withstand-”

With a laugh filling the vast chamber, Lilith interrupted him again. “Not through the Chaos, idiot! Yet something equally ambitious and dangerous.” Her righteous irritation tempered into a sly smile, and she finally looked at me. “Think you can actually do it?”

“Yes. With your help, both here and there.”

“Then I agree.”

A timeless face scrunched as Abagor attempted to puzzle it out. “Agree to what?”

The fingernail shifted to point at the pool itself. “Sending them to Earth, using the connection already constructed that holds myself as tether on both sides.”

The gears clicked in the Maschitim’s head, as he took in again the waters, the grey-robed angel, and finally me. “If you leave that door open, everything shifts. This could restart the War.”

“Not necessarily,” I said. “Not if access is carefully controlled.”

“You would bar the Host from crossing in force?”

“If I must.”

He took several moments to consider, but finally nodded. “Then what do you need?”

“Several things,” I replied. “Cassiel’s permission to bring the Lilim and others here for starters.”

“Others?” He ran a thumb down his black tie, not that it had gotten wrinkled.

“No way I’m doing a jailbreak for the Lilim alone.”

“Ah. What else?”

I looked to Lilith. “This is going to strain that connection something fierce, even before we get to the Wall. As I understand the process, forging this working needed a mortal wizard.”

She nodded. “Only a mortal soul can thread a fresh needle between Elohim’s Decree. The original wizard died long ago, and so has the most recent replacement. Safely cleansing your wing exacted a price.”

“Oh.” I winced. “I’m sorry.”

“Worry not. Her soul currently receives the promised alternative rewards here in Hell. She understood the risks.”

“Do you have anyone else?”

“Not at present. The specific expertise required isn’t something one simply posts to the mortals’ Internet to find applicants.”

“Damn.” Biting a lip, I physically and mentally chewed it over. “You know, I think I know someone who could qualify.”

“Would they be agreeable to the potential outcomes?”

“Yeah.” I grinned. “He believes he owes me one.”

Abagor was unconvinced. “That must be a substantial debt.”

“A neglectful father’s guilt is a powerful thing.”

Lilith peered upwards past the paintings covering the ceiling. “Yes, it is.” Meeting then my gaze, she gave a nod. “Let us prepare.”

I gave her the contact information, and we both got busy making some calls. Overhearing some of Lilith’s conversations through the shimmering pool, I about lost it with laughter when catching a certain detail. I couldn’t help it: here we were, planning to take a magic boat between Hell and Earth, to cross over to where Lilith’s other self had prepared a receiving magical pond. And where did the other Lilith live?

In a house bordering some woods within the state of Oregon.

More specifically, she lived in Portland.

 

~o~O~o~

 

For once, time was with us - quite literally in this case. With the weird and ongoing fluctuations of the timestreams, we caught a break where Earth’s frame was spinning only slightly slower than down here. This meant that within a sleep’s rotation everything was ready both here and there.

Not that I’d actually slept.

Instead, I’d spent most of the time staring at Lilith’s inset pond, occasionally catching glimpses beyond the waters of her mortal-incarnated self as she worked to reinforce the spells bound to the ring of stones on that side. She hadn’t changed much from when she’d pulled Tarot cards to read my fortune in that weird vision projection I’d had before waking up in the hospital in Dis; the curly hair was still a bottled red, and she’d needed a cane to hobble between the circle of stones - due to knees no longer up to the stresses on their own.

While she may have physically been practically the opposite of the svelte yet curvaceous manifestation here, the broad face carried much more warmth - as emphasized by the numerous laugh lines resting besides kinder eyes. While the Lilith in Hell had proved prickly as a thorned rose, the one on Earth seemed more an orchid.

Make of that what one will.

With the reactivation of the portal between the embassy and the Spires out on the Rock, many folks crossed through. Vance, Ruyia, and Yaria had been followed by Twitch, Maddalena, Barry, and Leila. The last kept clinging to Twitch’s hand, triggering somersaults of worry across my stomach that he still might not go with us.

Okay, maybe a part of me was also envious of the touch. Seven years (or the estimated equivalent) without will do that.

With them came Raguel, who upon seeing Phuel immediately embraced his restored brother. The two then conferred together regarding the needs of the yet-to-be-manifested boat, as its usual crew of souls had disembarked prior to us coming to this tower.

Realizing I was putting off the inevitable, with a tight chest I walked over to where Twitch and Leila sat beside the still-glowing portal.

Seeing my approach, they both stood. “Thank you,” she said, bowing her head, “and thank you for taking care of Twitch.”

I smiled. “I think you’ve got that backwards - he took care of me. Whenever and however I needed him the most.”

Undernourished and looking like a stiff wind could knock her over, she still gave Twitch a forceful look. “He’s been arguing that he should stay here. With me.”

With hunched shoulders and still holding her hand, the scarred soul shuffled his feet - and, of course, didn’t say anything.

Not that I needed him to. “He loves you.”

“And I him. Yet he should go.”

Squeezing her hand, he shook his head.

“No, Tommy,” she said firmly. “We’ve been through this. For what I did in life, I belong here. You don’t. And Raguel says I can be useful, that I am needed. Whereas you…you still feel her prayers, right? You said you did before.”

This was news to me. “Wait,” I blurted. “You’ve been able to feel Jenna’s prayers??”

Not meeting my startled gaze, he reluctantly nodded.

“I didn’t know that! I just knew she had prayed every day for you - ever since, well, since she and I got attacked together in a forest.”

Leila looked at me curiously. “You’ve met his sister?”

“She’s one of my dearest friends.”

After letting go, she placed a hand against the wraps covering his cheek. “It’s meant to be, don’t you see? God sent you an angel. You.”

The wrapped cheek leaned into her hand.

She understood, just as I did. “I know,” Leila said. “But Raguel says she needs you. And your sister does too.”

By the entrance more figures were arriving, and I spotted one in particular. “Tommy, I flew back to Hell to save two precious friends who don’t deserve being here. And the other has taken on a burden of Purpose from which he cannot return. Please,” I said, shifting to stare uncertain into his eyes, “let me free at least you. Please.”

Fighting back a tear, he finally nodded.

He’d agreed.

And I found myself able to breathe again.

 

~o~O~o~

 

Leaving the two to their last few and bittersweet moments together, I went to deal with a number of folks with whom I needed to talk. Namely those who had just arrived.

Cassiel led them all in. First was Krux and his Citadel officer aide, followed by a platoon of the General’s armed lunks escorting the two political prisoners.

Edgar and Nadia.

After a nod from Cassiel as he went over to Raguel and Phuel, I crossed to the two souls dressed in clean Citadel tunics, ignoring the salutes from the bat-winged devil and the accompanying goon squad.

Hey, I wasn’t Warleader anymore after all.

Edgar, missing the original corporate slacks and suspenders, placed himself in front of the only-slightly smaller Nadia. But upon seeing me, he moved aside.

The glowing mark of the star upon her forehead glowed brighter the closer I approached.

Stopping a few feet away, I looked them over. I’d managed brief visits with them when I could at the Citadel in their more luxurious prison cells, though with the war with Beelzebub keeping me busy, such visits hadn’t been as often as I’d have liked.

This was the first time, however, that they’d been taken anywhere, and I could tell they were greatly afraid.

“Did these idiots explain anything to you?”

Nadia hesitated. “No, milady.”

I sighed. “They were supposed to. We’re preparing to do the impossible, and while it’s risky, I’m inviting you two to come with. You’re too entwined in that political mess we’ve discussed, and I’d prefer Cassiel not being stuck with any part of it.”

Edgar, looking at the active standing stones, made a false assumption. “Are we to go through the portal back to the Spires?”

“No,” I told him. “We’re going through the pool. To Earth.”

They both boggled, but it was Nadia who blurted, “Earth?? Is that where the…the stuff in the barrels went?”

“Yep. And there’s a chance this won’t work. But with time itself going crazy, I have no idea when again I’ll have opportunity for a second trip. Or even if Heaven will allow such a thing.”

Edgar ran a hand through thinning blond strands on their way to balding. “A one-way journey.”

“Exactly. Once-in-a…well, a once in an eternity offer.”

He pondered. “What will happen to us if we succeed? Purgatory?”

“Not sure. You may instantly end up reincarnating. Or maybe hang out as ghosts for a bit until I can work out the details. But I’ll do my best to take care of your souls one way or another.”

They looked at each other, and while he seemed unsure, Nadia stepped forward. “I’ll do it. I’ll go. By your hand am I marked, where you go I should follow.”

“You don’t have to.”

She smiled. “All the more reason.”

I returned the smile, then looked to Edgar. “And you?”

He remained silent, deeply troubled thoughts chasing across his face.

“Edgar, I need an answer. I won’t force it if you say no.”

“Souls have never escaped Hell.”

“This is true.”

“I am a coward.”

Nadia startled, turning to face the shorter man. “Edgar! You-”

He cut her off. “But I am. Carlos fought when they came in, fought and became a stone. But I did not. Afraid was I in life, too fearful to do what was good. To be righteous. And in death, I remain so still.” Looking up to me, he spoke in but a whisper. “She deserves not Hell, but I do. How could my escape be right?”

Meeting his haunted gaze, I grew stern. “Would you act different if again faced with the same challenges as in life?”

“I…,” he said quietly. “I would like to think…yet have not…I do not know.”

“Then find your courage. Embrace the bravery to simply hope, to believe you too can change. Decide to face either annihilation with this venture or its success. Put it all on the line, here and now.”

Nadia, finally understanding, put an arm around his shoulders. “I don’t wish to go by myself.”

Swallowing, he reached across his chest to place trembling fingers over hers. Not able to say it, he simply nodded.

That earned him a warmer smile still. “Good. See the grey-robed angel standing next to the one with the shepherd’s crook? Talk to them; they’ll get you two prepped.”

Eager to get away from the soldiers, they hurried off. Which left me standing with the Citadel forces.

I deliberately continued to ignore Krux, instead turning to the aide at his side.

“Hello, Santiago.”

The soul smiled. “Greetings, Jane. Or should I call you Amariel?”

“Still hanging out with short-stuff here?”

Said short-stuff was mid-gesture at magically lighting a cigar, and with an annoyed cough managed to set half of the wrapped plant-stuff on fire. Cursing, he dropped it and stomped about with a taloned (and apparently fireproof) foot.

Santiago chuckled. “Fortune has favored, and I continue in pursuit of the best opportunities.”

Pulling out yet another cigar, Krux paused. “Hey, did you want to take this guy with you? Lord Cassiel briefed me on this op of yours - thought I’d bring him here and offer.”

“Why? You wouldn’t do that out of any goodness in the lump of coal you call a heart.”

He snorted. “You wound me.”

Feeling increasingly suspicious, I looked again at Santiago.

And finally registered the four-pointed star pendant hanging below the pressed shirt.

“So that’s it.” Eyes growing dangerously brighter narrowed. “He’s still in the Apostle’s cult, whatever and whomever still remains after that ritual. You brought him here to witness all this - to grant him more credibility, to manipulate them in my Name. You knew I wouldn’t take him with us.”

Krux smirked, and Santiago stood there nonplussed without reaction - yet still was equally smug.

Yeah, that didn’t sit well.

The metal star upon his chest flared, and the soul gasped as the sparks drove him to a knee. With the scent of burnt flesh invading nostrils, Santiago ripped the shirt’s top set of buttons free as the metal began to cool. “What have you done?!”

“The Apostle’s followers believed in me,” I said, calm yet with veins filled with ice and fire. “They believed in the Light, and begged for redemption. Whereas you…you carry no guilt for the pain inflicted by your life’s choices. The stains covering your soul dragged you here, but you yet refuse to acknowledge how they haunt your every gaze.”

Wincing against the smoldering star now embedded into the skin, the soul defiantly rose again. “I have done always what I needed to. For myself, for my family. Such is the way of the world - why then should there be guilt?!”

The gold star pulsed. “That question you must answer as that star whispers through your sleep - whispers the agonies felt by your victims and the families they too left behind. When you fully understand, then and only then shall it release you.”

Krux finished a puff on the cigar, and opened a smoke-filled mouth to say something. Then wisely thought better of it and chomped back down on the slowly burning leaves.

“For this, a curse?!” Santiago’s face twisted with harsh yet tightly controlled anger. “Shall I in turn set your followers against you? For they are fools, lambs too willing to stumble towards slaughter!”

The Light within was resolute. “Señor Hernandez,” I said, using the name originally granted at his birth upon the Earth. “I could, if I wished, make it so that from your tongue would be heard only truths regardless of what is intended to be spoken. But I shall not, for I believe not in such censure. I warn instead that words carry consequences, and that the new Lord of Dis shall be watching from above. And the Apostle’s flock shall not treat with mercy should that Lord find need to repudiate any falsehoods fallen from your lips.”

The soul, smart enough to hold now his tongue, remained still. Smoldering yet controlled…and silent.

Looking then to Krux, I gave a short nod. “General.”

“Archangel.” He saluted, rather crisply too. And kept his own mouth from offering any additional smoky comment.

Leaving them there, I turned to stride across the hangar-sized room. Cassiel was standing apart watching the others, and raised a bangs-covered eyebrow as I got close.

“Everything alright? You pulsed.”

“Yeah. Something irritated me is all.”

My friend chuckled. “Thought that was my job.”

That earned him a sardonic (but not really) smile. “Always.” I looked around and frowned. “I know Nathanael is still quite busy with the Grigori, but where is Camael? I thought he’d be here.”

Cassiel resumed being serious. “There was an attempt to force access to New Eden, he’s dealing with it.”

“New Eden?”

“Nathanael thought the moniker appropriate. And even I couldn’t argue.”

“Does Camael need help?”

“He reports that he’s got it covered.”

I wasn’t convinced, and through the connection established with the healing of his wing, reached out direct.

“Camael - we are about to depart. Should I delay?”

The response was instant, and infused with visions of fire and steel. “Worry not for me, my lady.”

“I had hoped you would join us.”

“My presence would complicate your impending meeting with the Council of Heaven. For now, my Purpose lies in supporting what your glorious Name has crafted here - as its existence itself shall add complexities to those discussions all their own.”

“Nathanael crafted it, not I.”

“By your Light was this miracle accomplished. Though it is not yet complete.”

“Someday I hope for it to be. But I know not how long until this door may again open.”

“In the fullness of time, it will.”

“Belief alone will not make it so.”

“No, my lady. But you shall.”

“Because of Creation’s needs?”

“And yours.”

“We shall see. And when this tempest has abated, perhaps with good wine at hand, I wish to hear your story in full.”

“Then this too shall come to pass. Take good care, my lady. And may the Light forever hold us close.”

“May it be so.”

Refocusing again on where my toes actually stood, I sighed - a sound of wistful sadness yet resolute.

Cassiel noticed. “Should we hold off? They’re loading up.”

Floating in the ten-foot wide pool now sat the boat - miniaturized to fit, though it still took up most of the pond. Upon its deck stood Phuel, smaller in size to match the scale and holding things steady, as a stream of bright white-robed souls flowed out from Raguel’s chest to manifest again as men and women. These proceeded aboard to assume their places as rowers and filled the empty benches. All told it took about a hundred of them, yet within Raguel were orders of magnitude more.

Safely held, but each shining with a patience which could only be maintained for so long.

Everyone else coming was also on board, standing on the deck and gazing upward at the larger-scaled beings waiting outside the ring of now-burning stones that surrounded the water. Small waves churned across the surface, and through them flickered the Earthly face of Lilith as well as someone else: a certain goatee-wearing wizard whose rescued daughter had helped save that world.

Through this link I could only smile, and Martin Diego smiled warmly back.

Not that there was anything more needed to be said between us.

“No,” I said, feeling the truth of the statement. “It’s time.”

Cassiel nodded, then gave a wry smile. “This has been quite the field trip, wouldn’t you say?”

I grimaced. “Mine usually are.”

Unexpectedly, he pulled me into a fierce hug. In that embrace I felt both a young boy who had outgrown all classrooms, as well as an ancient spirit finally achieving a peace thought lost forever.

Either way, I hugged back my friend as tight as he gave.

He spoke quietly into an ear. “Give Jenna my apologies and thanks. And if you can, I ask that you visit my father. Help him to understand, for he will be terribly alone.”

“I will.”

“Thank you.” Letting go, he took a step back. “Your vessel awaits.”

“You know, the last time we said goodbyes you mentioned something about Khan. Been meaning to ask about it. Care to explain?”

The boy still within the angel couldn’t help but grin mischievously. “No, on that subject these lips are sealed.” He then looked more thoughtful. “Other than that I bet that cat is likely knowledgeable about certain things.”

“Certain things?”

“Exactly.”

“You angling for cheesecake?? That’s hardly a help.”

“It is if you’re smart enough.” His grin widened. “So, as usual-”

I said it for him. “-Don’t be stupid!”

After we both stopped laughing, he added, “Unless absolutely necessary. Now, if you believe all is in place, get going. Everyone is waiting.”

With a deep inhale, I performed a mental checklist:

Spear, check. Book, check. Sparkly pendant, check. Hilt of the Sword of Judgment, check.

Everyone I loved whom I could feasibly take with me, check.

Flexing wings, I shrank down to an appropriate size and floated across to stand on the deck with the other passengers. Handing the pendant along with one last glittering and not forgotten bluish stone over to the Supreme Lord of the Waters, I then spoke. “Alright, Captain. All are aboard.” Stepping back, my friends surrounded me.

As Twitch’s hand found mine, Phuel’s booming voice called out.

“Then we go.”

I’d like to say our launch was a gentle castoff, as if drifting out upon a tranquil ocean framed by magical sunset, and not at all like being rapidly flushed through a porcelain throne.

Except, yeah, it was totally the latter.

 

 

Final chapter coming this Friday! If you're enjoying the story, let me know in the comments below! The end is nigh!!

- Erisian