Hope's Light

Chapter 35 & Epilogue

by Erisian

Book 6

 

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

Into The Light

Hope you enjoy!

 

Chapter Thirty-Five - Doors

 

The transit was taking forever.

From one perspective, we were as small charged pulses of electric current fighting to cross a wire spliced between the twin anchors provided by Lilith’s aspects: one in Hell and one on Earth. Overcoming the ridiculous voltage differential across the circuit required applying a greater counter voltage to reverse the natural direction of travel.

Or - as how it appeared to my assembled senses - Phuel’s boat rowed mightily against a slender yet fast-moving river, one cutting directly between two sheer and unclimbable cliffs. Below those rapid waters lay that remaining narrow connection still maintaining the link between Hell and the rest of Creation, while above us sat the blank yet flickering border to the Abyss, upon which the film of Primal Chaos pulsed and swayed. The mixture of mortal wizardry and Lilith’s will had forged the river of our passage, laying it directly alongside the fragment of firmament leading from the Gate into Hell. Their combined efforts maintained the channel, though Phuel and I had worked to expand the width, turning it from the thinness of a drinking straw through which she’d shoved Beliel’s Tears to the admittedly slender waterway we now navigated.

Raguel’s bright souls manned the oars with committed focus, their natural buoyancy aiding to push against that downward flow. The resonance of their faith and purity moved steadily forward one stroke at a time, as their oars slipped below the wet surface churning with all the negative backwash spilling from everything above.

They weren’t exactly conscious, either, those souls. They were held in a trance, a state maintained by Phuel whose overall pattern of boat and helmsman wrapped around the occupants to keep them from having to swim (and drown!) directly. Twitch and the other passengers stood on deck with expressions also blank, for their minds lacked the capacity to arrange the crazy experience of this travel into a coherent vision within which to act.

Even the three Lilim struggled, holding tight to the forward rail and bravely staring dead ahead into the waters streaming towards us - reminding of how I too had needed to do similar when my own perceptions had been scrambled. Their angelic heritage contained the potential to resolve the inputs, but they were entirely untrained - this was quite different than using a prepared portal to simply step between realms.

Only myself and the grey-hooded winged helmsman were properly aware, and he wasn’t exactly the type to brim with casual conversation.

“You sure there isn’t anything I can do to speed this up?” I asked for possibly the hundredth time, shouting to him from one end of the boat to the other, my pacing having taken me to the front yet again.

“Not without damage to those in our care.” His voice reverberated as if spoken more from the ship itself than from the looming figure upon the rear deck.

“Ugh.”

Said boat, of course, was bathed in the Light from the persistent fires within my feathers - a constant stream was needed to bolster Phuel’s Word, as even he would have found this passage impossible otherwise. Beyond us, however, that Light immediately faded - leaving the cliffs at our sides as hesitant lurking shadows slowly slipping past. As for the Chaos above, the less I looked at it the better.

Lest a perceptual interaction stir something undesired.

Walking back across the creaking beams, I stood again beside the angel manning the single massive steering oar. For whatever reason, the river - even rushing by as it did - filled the air with a salty and stagnant musk, the moisture clinging to every exposed surface.

“This whole connection thing is trippy, don’t you think?” I asked, wiping at my face with a silky sleeve which itself was also damp. “It’s astounding a single mortal wizard is able to slip it past Elohim’s great Wall. The balancing act between that magic and Lilith’s feels awfully precarious.”

He said nothing, rotating the wooden oar ever-so-slightly to adjust our heading. Whether doing that was actually necessary, I didn’t know. Or maybe it was simply a metaphorical perception on my part of his overall will guiding us forward.

Like I said, trippy.

“Still, it’s odd,” I continued since he hadn’t responded. “I mean, I see far ahead of us Diego’s magics holding the door - for lack of a better term - open. Yet the pattern employed isn’t entirely his.”

“Solomon.”

“What?”

“The structure is Solomon’s.”

“King Solomon? From the Bible?”

“He once held the Book tied at your belt. To him was the glory of Humanity revealed, along with its great and terrible potential.”

“You’re talking about true choice. The ability to create beyond the existing pattern.”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” I chewed at a lip. Or did I? “Wait, are you saying Solomon was the first to do this? Heck, Camael once said Solomon had asked him to bury the tome because he thought it too dangerous.”

“The wise king made such possible. All others stand upon his works.”

I thought about it for a few minutes. Or maybe an hour - hard to tell in this timeless place that wasn’t properly a place. “If a single soul could do that, what if thousands tried to do something? Or billions??”

“Working together there are potentially no limits except those they impose upon themselves.”

“That…that’s what Beelzebub was trying to do, wasn’t it. Take over enough souls, and if he could tap into that…” Words trailed off.

“Yes.”

I shuddered at what could have been, only to further worry the poor lip over thinking about what still could be. “But I can do that too. Without needing to take over souls.”

“You are without restraint. For unlike the First, you may reforge your pattern as you will.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Already do you transcend your heritage.”

“I…oh shit.” With a thought, the Spear appeared in my hand, along with the memory of a dark sword plunging into my heart - and of shouting my Name into that blade of Chaos while burning as bright within as possible. But the Name…I’d shouted my own nuances upon it, thereby writing it anew within my greater self.

A miniature act of Creation.

Fingers trembled, and I almost dropped the Spear, the luminescent artifact which had been reforged twice already.

Well, only once - the second was more an evolution or final tempering from concrete realization of everything that had happened in that original moment.

“I was going to use this to widen the wizard’s door so we can actually slip through. Because it carries Elohim’s Name.”

“The Throne cannot work against itself. By your will and choice alone, shall this journey be accomplished.”

“But I can do it.”

“Yes.”

“Huh.” Planting a glowing end against the planks at my feet, I leaned a shoulder against the weapon. “It’s a weird thing. Part of me understands all this - without words and without thought, but it does. And the rest of me gets to run around confused all the time until the greater self reaches down and takes action.”

“True knowledge flows through the layers of abstract. From above to below. But also from below to above.”

“How do you know all this? Is it just inherent to you as an angel, or did you have to learn?”

“To fulfill Purpose, all is known.” The angel paused, even as oars continued dipping into the waters sloshing past. “Yet below my second master’s wings did I learn more.”

“Second master?”

“First was the Lightbringer, then was he whose shard you hold.”

“Azrael. You studied under Azrael.”

“Yes.”

I grinned. “Is that where you learned the whole booming-voice-from-under-a-hood trick?”

“…Yes.”

Not able to help it, I snickered. But before I could follow with a teasing comment, a change twisted the air.

Salt spray hinted now of pepper, and then of lemons.

Which was quickly followed by a cascade of other entirely random scents, some recognizable like the sudden assault of gasoline vapors…and some not.

Refocusing to where I hadn’t wanted to look, I saw why, and with Spear in hand, bare feet floated off the deck. “Hey Phuel, if this goes badly, flee back to Dis. Don’t worry about me, take care of those in your charge.”

“Understood.”

Within the fractal dimensions coursing above, a great shadow moved - and smaller ones began fizzling across our wire’s boundary to drop into the water ahead of us.

They weren’t exactly fish.

Like the collations of Chaos witnessed before my latest leap past the Gate, the clumps of entities refused to align into categories and therefore proper description, and they swarmed towards us. And then only towards me as I pulled away from the boat - something which worked, in my opinion, to an advantage in that upon four wings of brilliance I was able to lead them yet further away from Phuel and his precious cargo.

Naturally, however, they weren’t constrained to the river’s water and leapt, floated, flew, or even blipped, directly at me with tentacles covered by bulbous eyes and many razor-lined hands stretching out to catch, crush, and slice me entire.

Again there was no foretelling their acts, no vision of them in future lines within the bounds of Creation.

Training and a certain sharp pointed stick would have to suffice.

Feathers spiraling with gathered frenetic speed and a harmony all their own, I danced across the waters between the many manifestations - plunging Spear’s burning tip into each of their cores to slam Light across their projections and thereby destroy them. They were fast, and I faster - though with their growing numbers inevitably a talon, tooth, or whip still would lash out to reach my otherwise unarmored and oddly barefoot form.

Which wasn’t actually true. I was protected, not in metal, but in Light.

As with Beelzebub that power hardened to repel contact, refusing any strands of the Unknown purchase upon my inner pattern - that core which actually mattered. This space was more abstract than solidified, even our madly fought dance more concept over substance, though their intent lay clear in the attempts to snap at the case dangling from my belt, before the spinning Spear of shining fire simply sliced them away.

Yeah, no. There was no way I was going to lose this Book again.

But, given how the first dribbles of invaders quickly transformed into a flood all their own, I needed to step it up a notch or else be simply overrun. “Phuel!” I shouted across the distance between us, while darting between three more blobs of randomized constructions to shred them to tatters with the blade burning at the end of the lengthy rod of Light. “Brace yourself and everyone! I’ve got to go nuclear - can you handle it?!”

“Within certain limits, yes.” Around the boat a translucent blue nimbus appeared, ready to safely channel energy away from those inside.

It was time for six wings.

Perception expanded alongside the additional blazing feathers to encompass the boat, its occupants, and the entire strand of passage. Enough that every invading force crystallized within my vision, and in that moment of comprehension all were cut down in flashes of brightness beyond brightness.

For at its core, the Light was an act of Perception by the Source. And, once fully perceived, these blobs of Unknown became Known, their forms transfigured as fixed entities vulnerable to the rules of Creation.

In other words, killable.

Carcasses suddenly fixed and describable began to smash through the river, limbs and torsos of creatures beforehand not ever imagined leaking their heart’s blood and effluence into the stream. Their corpses cascaded past as the ship slammed through, leaving multi-colored smears across the hull.

The smell was equally horrible, and I began to really miss that quick citrus scent from earlier.

Watching yet even more of them spill across, focus shimmered and pulsed brighter still - which is when I saw it: a tiny speck lying ahead of us just beyond the boundary, barely the size of a chickpea yet infinitely dense like a black hole.

With an equally infinite hunger.

Phuel did too. “Amariel!”

“I see it!”

“I have not the strength to fight a full spawn of Leviathan!”

“It’s the source of all the smaller ones, isn’t it?!”

“Yes!”

“Well, that sucks! I can’t just keep fighting off these tiny extrusions!”

“Do we flee?”

“Dammit!” Anger flared, which caused worry for poor Phuel - he too could be overwhelmed from an emotional burst from my six-winged state. But no, the holy script of his Name around the boat solidified further.

He was using the Light I channeled to protect against even itself.

“Maybe I can drive it off!”

Harnessing that instinct, I burst forward at speed transcending speed, hoping to drive the Spear through that terrible dot. If I could harpoon it…I mean really harpoon it…maybe it could be yanked across entire. Maybe it, too, could then die.

At least, I hoped.

Except it had a different plan entirely, one in my blindness to the Chaos I had failed to foresee.

As I got close, ripping through emanations by the dozens, the Child began to pull away.

And Phuel again shouted in sharper alarm.

“WAIT!”

But it was too late.

A second Child of the Depths, wounded still with crackling static from my prior eviction notice, reached past the Chaos as well.

Not before us, however.

From behind.

With a shriek to loosen bowels and sanity, its madness wrapped around the tether of our passage, and even as I prepared to blip instantly to it, the monstrous thing squeezed tight.

The stream of magic anchoring us back to Hell, back to Dis, snapped.

Without that tether, the river bucked wild like a dropped yet active firehose, tossing helmsman and the boat about like a piece of freed candy from a piñata by a Major League home run king, aimed directly at the waiting Abyss above. The recoil then whipped past like a vacuum cleaner’s cord retraction, its passage shredding the rest of the spellwork leading to Lilith’s opposite anchor on Earth.

Shrieking in throat-ripping horror, I watched Phuel’s glowing ship plunge across that boundary.

Maddalena and Twitch stood at the railing, her eyes closed with lips moving in silent prayer. Twitch, though, he stood still, staring across the rift between us.

Eyes open but unseeing, yet unafraid.

Marshalling resolve, I flared brighter still as the surrounding Chaos swallowed me as well.

All senses went, naturally, absolutely haywire.

 

~o~O~o~

 

Perception shatters into Everything and Nothing. All of history blending with all that could ever possibly be.

Don’t panic.

Existence within loops of existence within loops of existence. Pulling and tugging, ripping and tearing, dissolving and never having been.

Don’t panic!

Tools.

I hold many.

Hilt. Book. Spear. Wings. Light.

Solutions. Need solutions.

Without destroying a Creation solid yet fragile. Without forever losing those I would hold tender and close.

The Book. Secrets within Secrets. Mysteries within Mysteries.

Focus. Inward only, for I exist. For and against everything, I exist.

Pages fighting for coherence turn. Concepts are shared. Comprehension gathers.

Anchors. Tethers to frames of reality.

Ahead and behind, behind and ahead.

Realm and crown, crown and realm.

Pieces of self, yet always one.

Always One.

By heart’s Choice, One also with the Source of All.

And thereby with Creation.

In understanding, Light explodes outward as infinite of infinites.

A shard of Limitation cuts to required narrow size.

With wings expanding six by six by six, feathers crackle with brilliance to catch at lost ship and dimming guiding angel, enfolding a Word holding true by strength of the burning faith of those it carries.

Yet a Wall immovable prevents reaching desired anchor.

Frustration. Fury. Spear prepares to tear all down, despite dire warnings from Book and Hilt.

But there, a pinprick in that fortress, a piercing by a soul’s frantic invocation of a Name.

Name of an Archangel.

Name of an Archon.

Mine.

By restrained application of Spear to that smallest act of Creation, we slip through the provided door.

 

~o~O~o~

 

Another’s voice snaps across reassembling perception.

“Michael, hold!!”

Manifesting through gates isn’t always instant, especially when needing to realign differing time and abstract streams to juggle lower-level consciousness into syncing properly. Plus all those trifling details such as needing arms, legs, wings, eyes, lungs, these kinds of things.

Below spread the lake within my realm Gealltas, winter-chilled waves crashing mightily from the abrupt disturbance that a Gate fifty feet wide and twice as high assembled of silver and platinum bars makes when it appears suddenly right in the middle. With the metal opening wide, water rushed through to spill beyond, even as shimmering green ivy began to coil up and around the gleaming rails.

Also below was Phuel and his boat, battered but intact, and to great relief, every one of the passengers were starting to wake from terrors of horror and madness, visions now slipping away like ephemeral (and hopefully forgotten) dreams. On the sandy shore could be seen a hastily painted four-pointed star, with other holy names inscribed along the edge of a containing circle. Within those intricate patterns, a rather tired wizard sat atop the holy script of my own Name, which his exhausted throat chanted repeatedly. Next to him knelt a beautiful knight, with golden sword placed tip-first into the earth at circle’s center, that its connection could grant success to their combined magics. Outside the lines and script two more figures flickered into view, both rather surprising with their own emerging presence.

What lay above, however, demanded full and immediate attention.

Arrayed across the realm’s star-studded night hovered cohort after cohort of the Host, heavenly armor gleaming bright in the reflected shine of a full and rising moon, their uncountable banners and pennants whipping in the upper winds keeping the horizon’s clouds at bay - with their numbers stretching beyond the boundaries of the realm itself. Most were uniform in size and accoutrements, others varied with all the differing animal heads and bodies found in nature, and more still were as spinning wheels of eyes, wings, and flame.

And all had arrived ready for battle.

It was Raphael who had cried to the Defender of Glory, requesting their awe-inspiring leader to stay his attacking command.

Said Defender floated there before the endless armies of Heaven, sword and shield blazing golden fire, and his answering shout shook the surrounding forest where many spying fae shrieked and fled to their burrows and leafy homes.

“A breach of Elohim’s Edict lies before us, and you say hold?!”

Understanding dawned, and with a gesture the newly forged Gate swung closed with a loud metallic clunk. “There,” I announced to the glorious army within and past the sky. “It is closed.”

“Michael-”, began Raphael, but his brother interrupted.

“Let her and only her speak,” commanded the warrior Archangel, the massive pressure of his voice abating, but only a little. “Amariel - explain this. And explain these who have followed with you, for they too stand in violation of the Edict.” A rising golden plume, matching the same shine as the helm itself to which it attached, whipped about in that wind, and the Defender’s mighty presence again rattled the realm.

But this was my turf to protect and hold dear.

Holding aloft the scroll plucked from my belt, I shouted at he who in truth had invaded my domain.

“By order of Metatron, and thereby the Council of Heaven, have I retrieved the Sefer Raziel! In this I fulfill the will of Heaven!”

His sword’s flames grew longer still. “Yet you also dare free those condemned beyond?!”

Lowering the scroll, I responded. “Most aboard are those selected by the angel Raguel, he whose Word encompasses Justice! He has deemed these worthy and, in all truthfulness, in great need of return. The others are by my choice - a matter to be discussed at length with the Council where I intend to hand over this Book. This new Gate is closed, though admittedly not sealed. Hold but a moment, oh Defender, and more shall become clear.”

“To leave any vector of threat is intolerable.”

I met the gaze bearing down from above, and refused to shrink away from its monumental force. “And to risk foolish decision by impatience is equally intolerable! You invade my domain, Prince of Heaven. Should my cause be righteous in the eyes of the Most High, an attack here by you and yours would undermine the essence of your holy Word. For our sake, as well as your own, I humbly ask forbearance!”

He hesitated. “You ask then for a Judgment?”

“In a way, yes. Will you abide to witness a resolution I trust to be acceptable?”

After focused consideration, he replied. “I shall.”

As one, the army flying behind him pounded swords to shields and shifted to stances awaiting orders.

You know, instead of preparing imminent full-frontal charge.

Doing my best to not show the incredible relief at having won that much, I lowered closer to the boat.

It wasn’t in good shape.

The oars were all not so much snapped as dissolved entire, having finally plunged into an acid even they could not withstand. Viscera-smeared planks and siding equally showed gaps where chunks had been eaten free.

Yet it floated still upon the lake’s now calming waters.

Swallowing a heart’s flutter of realization how close things had been, I looked to their helmsman who had remained at post, his robe now as threadbare and tattered as the old cloak he’d worn when we first met.

But intact.

He saluted, as did everyone standing bravely on deck, though many had wide and anxious eyes under the gathered and clearly threatening Host of Heaven. A quick sweep of souls and spirits showed all hands accounted for.

I returned those solemn salutes, more seriously than ever I had before.

Wings then flew me across to the beach, where a bespectacled attorney’s expensive shoes sank into wet sand.

Well, the dream of those shoes did anyway.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be here,” I said to my friend before pulling him into a fierce hug.

“Diego mentioned it was urgent,” said Isaiah, once I allowed his lungs to regain some air. “Though he left these sorts of details out of it.” His eyes flicked to the ominous sky.

“He was certainly correct.” In warm acknowledgment, I waved to the sweat-drenched and blue-robed wizard with limbs too weak to stand. The usual ponytail had fallen free, and long brown hair in the wild breeze had become entangled with the goatee. “Thank you, Diego. How did you…?” I gestured at the ritual as well as his presence.

The wizard, chest still heaving with catching breath that had run out along with all his mana reserves, coughed. “She said it might work.”

“Lilith?”

“Si, señora. When our ritual failed, she demanded to know what if anything you’d left behind that was truly yours. A call to the Academy revealed you’d created this realm. She instructed the rest - including contacting señor Cohen - and your knight here also was most amenable to the attempt.”

“Now I owe you one.”

He gave a light and raspy chuckle. “Hardly, señora.”

Smiling, I looked to his side where my knight still knelt, his hand touching pommel of the sword forged of my heart and will. “And thanks to you as well, my Knight Champion.”

The plate-armored but currently helm-less Sir Gwydion, the single scar across a cheek marking otherwise perfect yet older fae features, bowed his head. “My Queen.”

I had to keep myself from touching that cheek. Which was really, really hard.

“What’s all this about a Judgment?” Isaiah then asked, pulling attention back to the matter at hand. Namely, how I was going to avoid a war with Heaven itself.

“Come and see.” With a gesture, earth rose from within the lake to provide a thin path from shore to the Gate, and I began walking across.

Having caught the deeper implications of that particular choice of phrase, my friend paled.

Yet he followed.

As did his accompanying legal assistant whose image was still trying to decide whether she had found herself in court - or upon a full blown battlefield.

Not being able to resist, I commented to my friend as we walked. “So you actually answered your phone when they called?”

“Not me. Tracy did. She paid the extra fee.”

“Fee?”

“We’re currently asleep aboard a plane back to the States.”

“Oh.” Sure enough, the slippery tendrils of projections connecting them back to their incarnate forms on Earth were visible.

Made sense. Gealltas was, after all, a dream-realm.

We said nothing more as we followed along that reef, his shoes getting muddy while my bare toes remained clean. On the boat, passengers gathered at the railings, though they too held their silence.

Probably smart.

Reaching the Gate, I could feel energy still slipping past its bars. I’d stopped the flow of water (which was probably making a mess of Asmodeus’s statue garden wherever he’d placed my crown), but it wasn’t in my nature to seal things.

That was someone else’s domain.

To Isaiah - my dearest brother, my dearest friend - I held out the hilt of the sword broken long ago.

His eyes went wide behind the glasses. “That’s my…his…”

“It is. And I ask that you take it - take it and insert unto this Gate. By your will should this be Sealed, that only those you deem worthy may pass.”

He stared at the hilt, and all remaining color fled his cheeks entire. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I ask that you make something right. All of Creation should share the hope of Heaven, no matter how hard or difficult the path. Such needs exist.”

Pain-filled and haunted eyes turned back to mine. “Still…you don’t understand. If I take this…” He swallowed.

I gazed back with saddened necessity. “I think I do. I knew you in the past, and I know you now. But there is no one else who can do this: your alternate self wields one half, you must wield the other.”

“Doing this will not heal the breach.”

“Yet it is a step forward.”

A hand touched his shoulder. Tracy, with image still dancing between holy warrior of the Maschitim and a pantsuited soldier of Earth’s legal system, spoke to him. “Fear not, Boss. There are those of us who shall stand with you. Always.”

My friend shook his head. “If I take this, then someday…” His face clouded, as if afraid to finish the sentence.

The hilt turned over in my grip, waiting to drop into his hand and his alone. “I know.”

“Do you?”

I attempted to smile into my friend’s worried eyes. “I have faith in that future - and in you.”

Bowing his head - to me, and perhaps also to the inevitable - a palm the shade of obsidian reluctantly extended.

And what was his was thereby returned.

As the perfectly tailored suit darkened into a hooded robe spreading two wings of star-studded night behind, he stepped to the newly-forged Gate. Into the waiting slot of perfect size did that hilt slide, and with an echoing click the bars fully locked. Withdrawing the hilt, its true weight sat heavy to his hand.

But the relic remained connected to all which lay behind the Gate, as key and lock now were bound as one.

Turning, we both then looked above to where the gathered Host had borne witness.

I called out, voice cutting across the sky. “Michael! Is this satisfactory to our beloved Defender of the Throne?!”

With a slow nod he spoke, the words shaking trees and mountainside. “It is. For now. But tarry not, as the Council awaits. And should we accept, then this Azrael must render Judgment upon those whom you have brought over.”

Left unspoken was what would occur should the Council decide against.

“Very well. Until then, these shall remain as guests within Gealltas.”

The uncountable horns of Heaven blew, a sound filled with infinite music and thunder, and with a tremendous gust of wind their innumerable wings carried them away.

Leaving only Raphael, who glided down to join us, and a boat from which rose tremendous cheers.

After sending mental commands to Gwydion to prepare lodging for all on the ship - along with instructions to keep any from somehow departing - I turned to Raphael, and on impulse threw arms around him. “Thanks.” I even kissed his boyish-yet-not cheek.

Surprised, but not unwelcoming, he chuckled. “For what?”

“More than I can say in this moment.”

“Then we should proceed to the Council. The others have gathered in the Lower Heavens.”

I wasn’t sure what was meant by ‘Lower’, but such was unimportant right now. “There’s one thing I need do first.”

The Archangel of Healing frowned. “Wouldn’t you agree the current urgency is rather high?”

“Yes, but this will not wait - nor take long.” I looked to the Azrael standing at my side. “And I’d appreciate it if you came with.”

“I shall.”

I smiled at him, with more than a small measure of relief.

Because despite the booming voice echoing from underneath the dark hood, still was worn the face of my friend.

Even if his ever-present glasses had disappeared.

The gangplank descended upon the shore, and those in white robes along with the mix of other outfits slowly walked across, led first by a smiling Twitch holding Maddalena’s hand. Each passenger gaped in astonishment at the lush spectrum painting forest and lake, the fae-sung splendor assaulting senses accustomed only to the dullness stagnating within the depths of Darkness. Many paused to blink overwhelmed eyes at the surrounding glory, inhaling deep the vibrant scents of towering trees, budding flowers, and brisk waters all teasing upon the breeze’s tender touch.

It was Vance, putting arms around equally stunned daughters as they stumbled ahead of a teary-eyed Scotsman, whose words of wonder carried across the clearest:

“Is this not a paradise?” marveled the son of Lilith. “Here the music not only plays, but breathes itself anew!”

 

~o~O~o~

 

Two angels hovered behind, reverent in their silence, reverent in the greater stillness of this place.

This cavern. This Monument.

Uncountable alcoves stretched around a space larger than any human city had ever reached, each filled with unique and sacred items, and within those endless spaces moved images of angels. Dancing, singing, contemplating, and yes, fighting - within the glow cast from my wings each became animated around the specific reliquary still holding portions of their holy Names.

And now, with tears already streaming free, I added to their number.

Within an empty alcove, I held out the offering: a piece of armor, the glittering white and gold which had protected beautiful feathers of a most noble companion. A fragment carrying a special message left behind just for me.

As Gabriel’s magic gently lifted the armor to bring once more alive the vision of glorious panther blended with raven, I stepped back before falling to knees as sadness crushed through my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I know it’s what you wanted, but still am I sorry. I chose them all over you - and I put you in the position where such a sacrifice became necessary. You deserved better, my beloved Hunter, my beloved friend. You deserved…” I choked up, unable to complete what I wanted to say.

Arms enfolded me, and I leaned into an embrace more Isaiah’s than Azrael’s. Raphael, too, reached out to gently brush a cheek damp with the cascade of tears.

“He saved them,” I said past the sniffles I couldn’t stem. “Billions of souls, stripped of their histories and reduced to their initial sparks. Yet he couldn’t abide their enslavement.”

“Through your Light, was he redeemed,” said Raphael.

“No.” My head shook firmly. “I but opened the door. In stepping through, his redemption belonged entirely to him.”

Both angels remained quiet, letting me gaze past blurry wetness upon the illusory images flickering past.

Until finally I nodded, and pushed to stand again.

Reaching towards the shimmer of a softly feathered face I’d never again caress, I spoke again. “Rest well, beloved. And know I shall fight to my last drawn breath for every precious spark you have saved - and for all whom you would have wished to save at my side.”

Turning, my sleeve wiped away lingering moisture from both cheeks.

Tears easily dried, but only from skin’s surface.

Raphael, with sympathy and mirrored pain for all the others remembered within these hallowed alcoves, regarded me in full seriousness. “The Council awaits. Are you ready?”

Squaring shoulders, my words echoed sharply across the vast and ancient cavern.

“I am.”

 

Epilogue - Seals

 

Within the mostly empty first class seating aboard a late transatlantic flight, two passengers slept deeply. The first, with deep burgundy skirt and lighter blouse, had slipped unto the realms of dreams with a thick book open upon the tray table before her, pages hidden now by dangling coils of striking crimson hair.

The second, whose deep and mighty snores could be heard even within the main cabin, clutched eyeglasses above a thigh covered in the finest Italian tailoring.

His other hand, free of constraint unlike its gloved opposite, had reached out to gently rest upon hers.

Standing over them, however, was not a uniformed attendant. The woman’s long and flowing platinum hair curved around a body too perfect for fashion, though the silk and silver dress clinging tightly to skin’s perfection attempted its best. Reaching a smooth and sleeveless arm towards the man, sharp fingernails stopped just short of the sleep-gasping throat.

For she knew he was one she could never touch direct, despite Aristotle’s solution to Zeno’s conundrum.

Instead she laughed as her hand withdrew, a sound of metal chimes dragged across broken glass.

As she walked away, the only other first class passenger - an older businessman enthralled by her incredible sensuous beauty, yet also terrified of the raw predatory aura lurking behind every movement - overheard her words before she vanished in the transition between cabins:

“Five down, two to go.”

 

 

To Be Concluded in Book Seven:

Light of Heaven

 

 

Thank you for reading, and special thanks to Emma Anne Tate, D. Eden, AKiwi, Bibliophage, and Voldy for their many great comments across all these chapters!

And super special thanks to Kimmie not just for commenting, but for her tireless efforts reading through the entire work to spot all those lost commas and misused hyphens - even when doing so caused tears to run anew. You deserve not just cookies but entire cheesecakes!!

- Erisian