by L F Seitz
“When I ascended at the age of 13. While I was asleep, I had a nightmare and created a fire, in which several people died,” I said. Making eye contact with Jimiah as he studied me, I needed him to see it, to know that I didn’t mean it. I was asked not to speak unless I was spoken to, but I needed him to know I wouldn’t hurt anyone on purpose.
“Have you ever thought about hurting someone?”
“Aside from general human anger, such as wanting to punch someone for being rude or mean, no, I have not wished to torture or kill anyone.” My palms were clammy with sweat as I held them in front of me, and kept my expression neutral. My whole body tensed with the quiet in between questions.
“Mr. Anderson explained you have information that could be pertinent to a Nephilim event, file name, The Rising.” The older woman in the center spoke as she folded her hands in front of her on the table. Her attention was completely on me as she stated what Micah must have conveyed when he said he wouldn’t give the information they asked for.
“I was given the location, time, and date The Rising will be taking place. I didn’t know the importance of the information until Micah spoke of it. Miller Baseball Park on December 11th, at the rise of the new moon.”
The room erupted in whispers, making me flinch with the sudden chatter. I could hear some saying that it made sense and others protested, hissing that I was a liar. I concentrated on the papers before the Counsel on the table. Jimiah stood and held his hands up. Moments later, the chatter subsided.
“How did you come to have this information?” Jimiah asked.
I cleared my throat to give the story Micah and I prepared. I hoped he told it somewhat like I did, or we were both in deep shit. I divulged about the night I accompanied Micah in pursuit of the demon Orias, I noticed I’d forgotten my jacket at the lounge. I went back the next day to retrieve it. There, I was approached by a man – a Cambion, I think. He asked if I worked for Orias, and I told him I did, out of fear of what he'd do if I didn't. He said he had a message for him, which was the information I’d just given. I asked what it was for, and he said it wasn’t something I needed to know, that Orias would understand. A day later, Micah brought up his frustrations about The Rising, and I gave him this information. My response sounded more formal than my previous statements, but I couldn’t help the anxiety the assembly made me feel. Like I needed to defend myself as if I was in court. I wanted to convey professionalism to show how serious I was about what I was saying – or at least to distract from my shaking hands, or my dry lips.
Jimiah glanced to Anastasia. What were they saying? Did they think I was telling the truth? Did they know I was lying?
“Did you know Orias before the night at the lounge?”
“No.”
“Have you ever come into contact with a demonic figure of any kind before meeting Mr. Anderson?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Do you know of a demon named Asmodeus?”
“No.” The lie rattled in my bones.
“Do you know who the Nephilim are?”
“Only that you are a group of people part human and angel, that you hunt and kill demons and evil creatures to protect humans. That’s all Mr. Anderson told me.”
My focus dropped to my shoes. I should be staring at the Counsel to show I wasn’t afraid. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t fearless; I wasn’t courageous like Micah. I didn’t want to die.
“You have angel blood, but that doesn’t make you Nephilim. It makes you a Halfling. We are a way of life, of honor, loyalty, and justice. Do you wish to join the Nephilim?”
The room was so quiet my ears were ringing. I swallowed hard as the air in my lungs grew heavy. Do I want to join these people? The same people who wish to condemn me? I heard a throat clear, and I peered up. Micah stood just behind the Council members and the guards. He gave me a determined look and small nod. He was here. He believed in me.
“Yes, I wish to join the Nephilim.”
I wished to join Micah, to fight by his side. I wanted to change the world and show them that if one of them could believe in me, they all could.
“Do you pledge allegiance and loyalty to the Nephilim, even until death?”
I smiled at Micah, because if I could, I would only pledge allegiance to him. Our relationship didn’t start off right: it started off rocky, but now we stood together. He stood for me, he trusted me and I him.
“Yes, I do.”
No one said anything as I continued regarding Micah, who spoke to someone beside him: a tall, dark-haired man with tawny skin. The older man at the table, William, stood and held up his hands while scanning the room.
“And finally, a demonstration of your abilities,” he said.
My lungs shriveled up. Micah’s face twisted into confused anger. I wanted to be angry, but all there was fear, sheer horror.
“How are we to truly understand, to really make a choice without proof?” William said as the rest of the Counsel bore at him. They, too, were surprised by his statement it seemed. This apparently was not planned by anyone but this snake of a man: a slender, thin-faced man with gray hair and menacing intentions. He wasn’t doing this for anyone but himself, to show everyone who I truly was. Once they saw my marks glow red, they’d think of nothing but my blood splattered across the concrete. Not what I had done to help them. Nothing but my hellfire red markings. The room was loud with consensus, and even I knew with a room of this size all in agreement, it would be impossible to say no. Even if the Counsel disagreed.
Someone had to stop him. I gawked at Jimiah, pleading silently for him to do something, anything. This wasn’t the way to show everyone I was on their side. This would only cause chaos. Jimiah stood then and raised his hands to silence the room.
“You will not be harmed during this demonstration. You have my word,” Jimiah said.
I felt light-headed. Micah’s his face was red with rage. He disagreed with this decree as much as I did, but there was nothing either of us could do now. I nodded at him, and he nodded back. As long as he was there, I was OK.
I spoke the demon incantation first. It came easier and quicker than the angelic one. My insides grew hot, and the commotion started before I opened my eyes. People gasped and called out vulgar judgement- disgusting, forsaken scum; deeming me damned and that I should be killed now. My vision blurred as the pain of everything crashed around me. Despite the Nephilim Micah was completely fixated on me, peering into the windows of my soul, and didn’t flinch. My face wetted with tears as he studied me, and I nodded back once more. I was OK.
I closed my eyes and settled the quiet hum of my demonic blood before starting again. Then I softly spoke the angel incarnation to myself. I ground my teeth as the searing pain electrified me, rattling my bones and burning away the darkness that was once visible on my skin. The drop of a pin could be heard throughout the room now as everyone had held their breath and stood motionless as my angelic blood surfaced and set me aglow with sapphire light.
I held the gaze of the only friend I had to help me. He was the only person who saw me, the real me, in that moment. Not a Cambion or even a Nephilim. Just Lamia. I know he did. My skin’s glow – a merciful, innocent blue – dwindled until my skin was back to its original pale color, with undertones of olive. My markings a stark black. The room remained as still as it had when the angelic part of me came to light. They didn’t know what to say, what to think, and I couldn’t blame them. I was just as lost as they were.
“Guards, please lead Ms. Relictus to a cell until we have come to a decision,” the woman at the table ordered, and soon I was surrounded by guards who seized me by the arms and moved me toward the edge of the crowd. I craned my neck, to find Micah one more time, but he was gone.
Twenty.
I JOLTED AWAKE AS THE sensation of my body shaking dragged me from sleep.
“Come with us.” One of the guards who’d escorted me through the building stood over me.
I was curled up in the corner in a dar
k, abandoned room, and despite my fears, I somehow managed to fall asleep. I stood and blinked furiously, covering my crying with coughs as I followed the men out of the room and into the hallway. This was it. When they decided my fate. It was considerably quieter now as we moved from the room into a dimly lit hallway. At the opposite end, it opened up into the assembly hall. The large, empty basement with an open mezzanine looked down from the first floor. It was larger when emptied of everyone but the Council members and their guards. That’s when I noticed the decorative mosaic design tiled into the concrete in the center of the room. It was the symbol for the Nephilim, the one tattooed on Micah’s neck, surrounded by blue fire.
They escorted me to the middle of the room, where I stood before the Arch Council who no longer shuffled through papers. They each had their hands folded as they surveyed me. I began to sweat again.
“Upon the review of information we collected from Mr. Anderson and you, Ms. Relictus, we proceeded to collect statements from the Nephilim. We discussed it and have come to a decision,” Jimiah said, intimidating still.
“Your abilities are new and therefore lie in uncharted territory,” Anastasia explained. Her gray hair was tied up loosely on top of her head. She was willowy and graceful, reminding me of a bird. “We truly don’t know the extent of your powers or skills. You could be very helpful to the Nephilim or extremely dangerous to us. Though your lack of understanding when it comes to this world behind the curtain, so to say, frankly makes you less threatening. Your spotless record only adds to the mystery of where you’ve been the last eighteen years. So we have decided that this is a manner more suited for the Divine Council in Porta Caeli and have requested an immediate meeting with them to decide your fate.”
I faintly remember the conversations Micah and I had about the Nephilim capitol, it was located in the Mediterranean. They basically made me go through that to tell me that they couldn’t decide, so they’re sending me to a different Counsel, so they can decide? I couldn’t keep everything straight.
“That being said, Nephilim aren’t allowed to go to the capital unless summoned or approved, so for now, we will have to wait until that happens,” Anastasia said. Jimiah stepped forward. “You have committed no crime, and you have no negative or demonic incidences on your record. Micah also has a rather clean record and has never broken the rules before, so his record and character were also used to come to this decision. We have decided to keep you under our protection and guardianship until the Counsel in Porta Caeli contacts us. You will be provided a tracking device and given a guardian to watch you.”
“You will have access to the Compound as long as your guardian accompanies you, and you will be able to attend future events under careful supervision,” Anastasia said.
They were being careful with their words, all I could think about is Micah and wishing he was here with me.
“You are not a prisoner, but we see you now, Ms. Relictus, so we must make sure we do everything in our power to help you, given you are Nephilim, but also make sure you harm no one else, since you do have demonic blood in your veins.” Jimiah’s words were harsh, and I tried not to be so openly offended by them. At this point, I couldn’t care. I was alive, and they didn’t plan on changing that. No doubt the slouch was visible in my appearance as the fear of death lifted from my shoulders.
“Please understand, though it is confusing, we have to do what is necessary,” said the man beside Jimiah, and I nodded.
“I am not a part of the Nephilim?” It was a stupid question, but one I was compelled to ask.
“Not yet, though we are positive the Counsel will get back to us before then. We give you a year probation before making any motions to move forward,” Jimiah said.
Elation enveloped me. A year probation. That was a good thing. It meant I wasn’t dying today.
“Do you have any questions?” Jimiah asked.
I didn’t.
Anastasia, who seemed to lead the council, explained that Jimiah would now be escorting me to another room upstairs, where I would receive the tracking device. Then he would take me to meet my assigned guardian.
“This concludes our meeting,” she said with finality.
Jimiah began walking toward the stairs across the room, and I followed him. Two men, his personal guards, accompanied us. I expected more people to be lingering, but it was awkwardly quiet. I wanted a moment to breathe, to take in this relieving moment, and to ask Jimiah where Micah was. But it wouldn’t be possible, as I didn’t have the courage to even take a full breath. On the main floor again, we turned right and walked down another dim hall. It was made up of smaller rooms, maybe even offices, but most of the doors were closed. After a few doors, Jimiah opened one to our left. The room was white, with a soft glow coming from a light attached to a reclined chair: it reminded me of the dentist’s office.
A middle-aged man waited in the corner next to a table with a large, closed case. He had deep copper skin and dreads twisted into a bun on top of his head. The guards took up positions at the door, and I stood next to the chair, slightly nauseated with worry.
“This will only take a few minutes,” Jimiah said suddenly, making me flinch, embarrassed. “This device will be injected into your skin and used to locate you at all times. You won’t be able to see it, and feeling it is possible, but rare. Do you have any questions?”
“No sir,” I said.
He gestured to the table, and the man in the corner opened the case. The case held what I assumed was a tracking injector, gloves, a plastic capsule, and an electronic computer tablet. The man smiled at me as I took off my jacket and sat in the chair. I just want to go back to my apartment.
“This is Gill,” Jimiah said. “He’ll be doing the embedding process.”
Jimiah stood in the corner, and we all sat in the quiet as Gill began the process. He pulled out the tablet and started typing. I sat twiddling my thumbs, wondering if Gill was one of the Nephilim who didn’t mind having me here or would rather see me dead.
“I know it probably doesn’t seem like it, but the Counsel isn’t too bad,” Gill said to me. “Honestly, they are intimidating to everyone, believe me, so try not to worry.”
“I’m trying ...” I trailed off, not knowing the words to say, especially since Jimiah was standing there. I wanted to be honest with someone and tell them that they were wrong: the Counsel scared the crap out of me. They had so much power – a snap of their fingers, and I’d be dead.
“Don’t be scared. They’re just a bunch of old farts.” The words came out of Gill’s mouth, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
I peeked at Jimiah, who was rolling his eyes, but to my surprise, he didn’t look upset, and he didn’t correct Gill. Maybe I’d judged Jimiah wrongly.
Gill asked me to fill out the information on the tablet so they could have it all on file, attached to the tracker. He handed me the tablet and went to open the little plastic box. I filled out my name, birthday, and Social Security number. As I finished, Gill was putting a small silver bead into the injector gun. It was a flattened oval, about the size of an eraser head.
“Happy birthday,” Gill smiled as he glanced at the tablet. He pulled on the gloves and motioned for my arm, positioning it out with my palm up.
“Thank you,” I replied. “You ready?” He took the injection gun and held it in the air. I nodded. Gill pinched the soft skin on the inside of my elbow with his free hand and pointed the gun at the skin. Without a warning, he poked the tip into my skin and clicked the button. A pinching pain shot through my arm, and I gritted my teeth as I focused on not moving. “All done.” Gill put a bandage over the bleeding dot and pulled off his gloves. “Thank you.” I slid off the chair as he handed me my jacket, which I put back on.
“No problem.”
Gill smiled at me again, a genuine smile that came from someone who didn’t see me as a monster. It made me want to shake his hand, but I chose words instead.
“Thank you for being so kind to me,” I sai
d. He smiled and nodded.
Jimiah opened the door without a word and ushered me back into the dim hallway. He was going to take me to meet my guardian now.
“What’s a guardian?” I asked, half doubting he’d even answer. He was stoic and didn’t seem like the talkative type. He also kind of reminded me of Micah.
“Your guardian is in charge of knowing your location 24/7, as well as your activities, and reporting back to us daily. They will accompany you to Nephilim events or anything we decide to invite you to.”
“And they’ll be with me every day for the next year?” I was uneasy with the thought of getting used to another stranger.
Jimiah nodded. We moved back down the hall, heading for the stairs again, with his guards in tow. My anxiety ramped up again as I thought about who might be staying with me or near me for the next year. It wasn’t difficult to get used to Micah, but that was because it was, well, it was Micah. He was an ass in the beginning, but now, he was my life preserver in this raging storm. I couldn’t imagine having anyone else nearby.
The realization came to me this morning about how he’d been risking everything to get the information we have to save his people, knowing how close of a call it was now to the date we were given. Micah said the approval to interrogate Asmodeus would have take days or weeks, and to get him to break would have taken longer. People would have died if he’d not done what he did. Now his people could prepare, and it was all thanks to him. I’d judged him too harshly, and now I saw him differently. He had compassion for people, but he also had flaws. It’s a mixture I want to dive farther into.
We made it down the stairs, and I was so focused on my feet I nearly ran into Jimiah.
“Meet your guardian,” Jimiah said.
I reluctantly peered across an empty Assembly room to him, to Micah. I relaxed at the sight of his familiar face. Pale purple bags rested under his eyes as he watched our approach, his shoulders slouching forward as he slowly stood. He looked as defeated and exhausted as I felt.