"He didn't choose to follow Satanael at all," Marchosias answered her, hearing her thoughts. "That is why he too, is one of a kind. The Ophanim had never had a battle before, and so they were new to their roles. Though this has never since happened, what occurred here is a travesty. I will speak no more and let you both see and hear this to you can better understand."
As soon as Marchosias finished speaking, Annaleah felt as if she had been immediately transferred into the scene, mere inches away from the angelic form of the Professor. He stood with another angel who was much taller. Though the Professor's wings were enormous and reached several feet over his head, the creature he stood with had a stature and wings many times his size. The power which emanated from this angel was almost a physical force; heady, strong and demanding attention.
"You cannot save them, Saraphael," the taller angel spoke, his piercing emerald green eyes glowing with ethereal light. Annaleah watched as tears spilled down the cheeks of the Professor, though he showed no shame in so openly weeping.
"I cannot stand by and watch them fall, Matatron!" the angel form of the Professor said. "I do not agree with what Satanael has done, and what is doing now. He is lying to these angels, doing something to their will and corrupting their minds. I cannot let them fall. He has poisoned them away from the truth; their doubt has made them reject the truth and take our home and all the love of the Creator for granted. Let me speak to them. I have to try!"
"My brother," Metatron said gently, his long white hair falling in loose cascading ringlets across his angular face, "If you leave Heaven, you too will be considered Fallen, regardless of your reason. Though your heart is pure and your spirit is brave, you will be locked from these gates and not permitted readmission."
More tears fell from the angelic Professor's eyes, but his expression remained resolute. "I know the Creator mourns, and though Her heart is broken, I have faith in Her. She will not let me down, once She learns of my reasons. I must do what I know in my heart is right."
Metatron hung his mighty head, tears now falling from his eyes, too. He feared that he would never see his brother angel again, at least, not in Heaven. He opened his arms and the full span of his snowy wings, and embraced his fellow angel, holding him tightly. Each knew that it might be the last time they saw the other.
"My brother," Metatron whispered into the angel called Seraphael's ear, "Go in peace and know that you have my support. I admire you greatly for doing what you feel is right. No other will do what you are about to attempt." In response, Seraphael kissed his brother's cheek, the love between the two palpable.
From over them came the scream of a wounded angel, its throat torn and bleeding fire. Seraphael reached out his arms to try to catch the falling, dying angel, and was ripped out of the gates of Heaven, never more to return.
Though he fell with the weight of the dying angel, still he tried all his angelic medicines on the fallen, dying creature. Though many angels are male, this one was female. Her indigo eyes were looking at him beseechingly as they turned from a deep purple blue to a cold sheen of silver.
"You have been lied to, sister," he whispered to her between healing incantations. She tried to speak, but her throat was still open, her inner light growing dim. "I ask of you to turn from Satanael. He is not who or what you think he is. He has turned you from the Creator. Come back with me and ask for forgiveness. I know you cannot speak; do you agree with me? Blink once for yes, twice for no." The angel in his arms blinked once, and tried to speak again. It proved too much for her however, and she shuddered in his arms before finally going still.
Seraphael threw his head back and wailed, the pain in his heart too much to bear. Though his descent had stopped as the angel he held had died, his transformation into a Fallen one had just begun. Many lives had already been lost, and those who had already fallen and were trying to invade Heaven paused for a moment. Never had they heard such a sound of torment before, nor known a sound of grief so raw. Though the Creator had chosen to mourn in privacy, the misery in the spirit of Seraphael could not bear to wait for its expression.
Seraphael, refusing to believe that he was no longer permitted into Heaven, flew back to its gates, still holding the dead angel in his arms, desperate for readmission. He tried to recite the opening words, but the gates refused to obey his commands. Furious, scared, his heart full of grief, Seraphael called to the Ophanim guarding the gates. With sadness in their hearts, they refused him entry.
"Please," Seraphael begged, "she repented before she died. Her spirit should be allowed to come back home! I have not pledged allegiance to Satanael, please, let us back in!" However, the Ophanim would not let them inside and turned from him.
The scene again began to shift in Annaleah's mind's eye, fading out slowly. She felt Marchosias withdraw from her mind.
"You see," Marchosias spoke, "He never really fell at all. He was the only angel who tried to save his brothers and sisters from falling, and was rejected from Heaven by a misunderstanding. His feeling of being betrayed is as great as Satanael's betrayal of the Creator. Now you know why he is bitter. Why he is a loner. Why he trusts no one. You, my dear, were sent here to fix that."
"How?" Annaleah asked, her heart breaking for the man she knew as the Professor.
Marchosias smiled at her warmly, "You Annaleah, are a gift…." As she spoke the last word, Marchosias closed her eyes and winced in pain. It passed quickly however, and the angelic looking woman straightened up at once and cleared her throat.
"I'm sorry, but that is all I can tell you for now. I am told that there is another of us who wishes to speak to you. I believe he will tell you the rest of the story better than I. Besides, you have a visitor, and you're also about to wake up. So for now, Annaleah, remember what you have been shown, and stay strong. There are many, many angels with you. Know we love you very much."
As Marchosias spoke the last few words, she began to fade. Annaleah began to climb the steps on the ladder of consciousness, but she could still see the anguish on the face of the Professor, and it burned its own unique form of pain into her heart. She vowed that if there was anything she could do to bring joy back to him, she would not stop until it was done.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sweet Emotions
Saturday, August 13th
Annaleah has been in the hospital for several days now. My mind wonders to her constantly, though I try to maintain my routine in class. My students can tell I am distracted, and though most of them are mature enough to understand and act with empathy, there are a few who have taken to making this time even more of a Hell for me. If I had the strength they are used to and have come to respect, these creatures would recoil from me in fear instead of causing me even greater torment. It seems that the moment I’ve come to feel deep empathy, there must be a wretched few among them to tease it out of my grasp.
I am experiencing many new emotions since my visitation with Gabriel. Knowing that he has been with Annaleah for so long as her protector and that he sent me such an intense dream has had me doing a lot of thinking. I’ve known since I first saw her that she was different, but for an arch angel to get so closely involved is something I have not seen before. Who is this beautiful woman child? Why can I not stop thinking of her? Yes, she is different. I admit she is interesting to me, but this is the beginning of a new school year and I have many other things to occupy my thoughts and time. Yet, I return to her in my mind and even to her room as she rests. She has yet to awaken when I have visited her. Maybe it is a good thing.
I have held her hand as she slept, fascinated with the warmth of her flesh against mine. Her hand was so soft and small in my own. As I gazed upon our hands entwined, I felt a strange sensation over take me. The longer I looked at them, the more I became aware that just by holding her hand, my own hand became more beautiful. I am not sure if it was my eyes playing tricks on me, from stress and lack of sleep, or, if what I saw was real. In her skin, and in my own, I saw the familiar arcs and fl
ashes of luminosity, the telltale sign of angelic blood. Is she one of my kindred then? If so, why hadn’t I ever seen her in the days I was still....
But I will not revisit there. Suffice to say, I have seen and felt things with Annaleah that seem to change who I am.
Who and what are you, Annaleah? Why does my heart beat like it shall escape my chest when I look at your face? Why do I long to taste your lips, to press my mouth over your cupid's bow and draw your very breath into my lungs? I ache to give you my heat, to see it blossom in your heart and spread its fire in your soul. Never have I felt like this for a human before. It is dangerous. Not only for fear of being betrayed again by someone who has the power to wound me, but because the love of humans has caused many wars. It is forbidden for my kind to love a human. Or so it has been said. Oh, if I could ask the Creator Herself, but no, it is not possible now….
This is another thought that has come to me as of late as well. Through many years of meditation and purposeful hardening of my spirit, I have moved past the betrayal I suffered so long ago. However, for some reason I’m unaware of, this very issue has been resurfacing in my mind. The pain has returned, but with it, as though to take the sharpest edge off of it, have come these new and intoxicating feelings for Annaleah.
Sometimes, when I visit her, I feel that I can feel her heart beating in my chest. As though each pulse is laced with something so profound and intimate it is beyond my ability to describe in words. Her youth, her supreme innocence, as well as the enigma of who she is, combines in her to produce one of the most extraordinary creatures I have ever seen.
Perhaps too, it what happened last night that has me in such a state of affairs. I was beside her bed, looking at her beautiful mouth, when her lips parted slightly and she exhaled a deep breath. I had been thinking about how poorly I had treated her, and of what I would say should she awaken to find me beside her. Her sharp exhalation brought me back to the present. The way her mouth opened ever so slightly reminded me of a woman who was expecting a kiss, and I wished then for her to awaken so that I might have the slightest chance of kissing her. Her sudden clasp on my hand in hers surprised me, but pleasantly so. It was no more than a quick squeeze, and then she let my hand go.
And then she said my name. She did not call me Professor, or Sir. In a loud whisper, as she let my hand go limp in her own, she said, "Sebastian." I think my heart, as well as my lungs, ceased working for a moment. I thought she knew I was with her, but I dismissed that thought as she went still again and fell back to her deepened dream state. I held her hand tightly, willing her to awaken, to say my name again.
It is rare for anyone to call me by anything but Professor in some form. Though the Chancellor does, on some occasions, call me Sebastian, it is never with any form of intimacy or deep affection. When Annaleah said my name, the emotion it carried was unmistakable. I wished so deeply then to know what she was dreaming, but just to know she dreamt of me…. Oh what that did to me!
I want to hear her say my name again, to see her lips part and feel her breath hot against me as my name forms on her lips. It is such a small thing, and yet so deeply personal. Why is it so intoxicating to me, I wonder, to be called by my first name? Perhaps it is partially because it happens so rarely. That she used this form instead of professor makes it much more cherished. She was calling to me as an equal, not as a teacher or a superior.
I leaned closer to her, hoping she would speak again in her sleep. Though I could have peered inside her dreams had I wished to do so strongly enough, I did not want to invade her privacy in any way. To mar her innocence in any manner would be unforgivable. I watched her eyes dart beneath her lids, a sure sign of dreaming. The closer I came to her, the more I smelled her scent. Honeysuckle.
There were too many emotions at once. From her scent, to her speaking my name. Suddenly, I had to get out of there, before I become overwhelmed.
As I turned to leave, one of our students walked into the room. I believe her name is Rachael. She looked a bit startled at seeing me in the room with Annaleah, but recovered quickly.
I hope she is not one for gossip; all I need is to have the ones who have been making the past few days a torment to know I have visited her again. Though I am sure a few teachers would love this little tidbit as well.
I will sign off for now. I am growing tired and need to retire for the night. Perhaps I shall see Annaleah in Dream Time, and maybe, just maybe, I can hear her say my name once more...
~SB~
Chapter Twenty-Five
Annaleah Awakens
As the sight of the forest clearing left Annaleah's vision and she began her ascent back into consciousness, she heard someone speaking to her from very far off. It was a voice she vaguely recalled, and though it sounded as if it were coming to her through thick gauze over many miles, she tried her best to remember whom it belonged to. Moving with a greater speed and awareness, she drifted towards to voice until it became clearer. With effort, Annaleah opened her eyes slightly and saw the yellow tinged lights of her hospital room and the faded white wall across from her bed. She tried to turn her head toward the speaker, but quickly became dizzy. A small moan escaped her lips, and she closed her eyes again.
"Whoa, hey, you're awake!" the voice said excitedly. "Hold on, let me get a nurse. I am so happy you're coming to. I have a lot to tell you!" Annaleah felt someone moving around her bed, and heard a buzzer as a button was pressed. A female's nasally voice responded, asking what they needed.
"Annaleah is awake. Just thought y'all would like to know." Recognition came to Annaleah then. It was Rachael! She smiled, and tried to open her eyes again. The grinning face of her new friend came into view, closer to her than she expected.
"There you are Annaleah. Don't try to move too much. I got the nurses for you. Maybe they can give you something to make you a bit more comfortable." Rachael beamed at her, then straightened up.
"Oh, I want to show you my jacket," she said, turning around. The black leather had long slash marks in it, appearing as if it had been made that way. It looked rather fashionable. "Bubo did this with her claws, but no worries, I love it. Doesn't it look fantastic?" Annaleah smiled at her friend, pleased to see her so happy.
Rachael posed in her jacket a few times before she stepped aside to let the staff that had entered the room do their jobs. Her short black pixie cut looked freshly trimmed and made her large kohl lined brown eyes appear even larger. Rachael took a seat beside Annaleah, as one nurse took her vital signs and another fed something from a syringe into an IV tube.
"How do you feel, dear?" the nurse taking her vitals asked.
Annaleah was happy to discover that her voice had returned, but her mouth still didn't seem to work quite right. Her words felt thick on her tongue. "Better, but a bit dizzy."
After some fussing and a promise to get some medication for her dizziness, the nurses left and closed the door behind them to give the two women some privacy.
"So, guess who just left a few minutes ago?" Rachael asked her, obviously bursting with the need to tell her. Annaleah knew who she wanted it to be, his pale, angular face coming to mind. If she tried, she could still smell his rain soaked leather, the memory of it both embarrassing her and flooding her with a heady, pleasant feeling. Had she really passed out in his arms?
"Tell me," Annaleah asked, a smile playing over her lips.
"I think you know, don't you? Your Uncle John says he's been here every day at some point to see about you. He never says much, but both your friend Seth and your Uncle John seem to think of him favorably. I think he has a thing for you, myself. I don't know how you managed it girl, but there have been many ladies before you pining for the Professor, and he has never once shown the slightest interest in any of them."
Annaleah felt a rush of girlish glee at hearing this. She tried to hide her pleasure from Rachael, but Rachael had already seen her reaction.
"Look at you blushing! You have the hots for the professor too, don't you?" Both
of the young women giggled then, and Annaleah began to feel better, the dizziness abating.
"I can't say I blame you. He might be moody and snarky, but he is tall and handsome.” Rachael titled her head and looked up toward the ceiling, placing her finger under her chin, as if she was deep in thought. “Kinda pale, but it looks great with his long black hair, don't you think?” She looked back at Annaleah and winked playfully. “So what did you do to get him so interested in you, besides passing out in his arms? Inquiring minds want to know."
Rachael’s smile was full and genuine, and Annaleah felt the warmth of knowing she had a true friend glow in her heart. Letting her happy rush fade just a bit around the edges so that she could answer the question, Annaleah spoke truthfully. "I really don't know, Rachael. I'm embarrassed about it actually.” Annaleah grabbed a bit of her long curly hair and wove it in and out of her fingers, trying to ignore the flush that she could feel growing in her cheeks. After a moment she looked up, hoping Rachael didn’t see the discomfort in her eyes. “Can you tell me what happened? How long have I been here?"
Rachael's expression grew serious, and she sat up a bit straighter. "Well, I’m not really sure about everything, but apparently you were bitten by several poisonous spiders. You've had us all pretty worried about you, and that includes the doctors.” Rachael’s eyes were wide as she looked at Annaleah, driving home the fact of how seriously ill Annaleah had been. “No one knows what kind of spiders they were, and that's pretty freaky. From what I understand, it was hard to find the proper antivenin.” Rachael leaned closer, her hands steepled, her eyes holding a sheen in them. Annaleah, you almost died.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “You’re very lucky to be here."
Annaleah looked at her friend, her heart skipping several beats. She wasn’t sure she had heard Rachael correctly. When her heart began to beat once more, it did so at a furious pace. "I almost died?" She asked, her voice thick with awe.
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