by Jorge Silva
He sat down at the dining room table next to Ignacio. Tiberias left for a moment, and returned from the kitchen with a tray.
“You should feed that body,” he said to Ignacio, while he served up coffee and placed some toast on his plate. On top of the table he placed half a dozen jars of jam and opened them one at a time.
“A few days ago, Gabriel joined with the White Phoenix in a dream. The Shadows know it and are after him.”
“How did you know that the Phoenix would show up at my school?” It was one of the questions that Ignacio hadn’t yet answered and Gabriel felt that it was directly relevant.
Tiberias guffawed loudly.
“I see that neither of you is beating around the bush. But first things first, Azrael. You haven’t explained to him how I know so much, have you?”
“I didn’t think it prudent.”
Tiberias got up to search for the sugar bowl and Gabriel couldn’t help but notice that he turned around occasionally just to look at him.
“There’s a war coming. More terrible than Armageddon.” He sat down again, loading six spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee. “I know that you prefer that I be succinct. Lucifer is forming an army of the dead, and she wants to use the Phoenix to take them out of Hell and take the battle to Otherworld.”
Ignacio remained silent.
“To answer your question, young human,” said Tiberias, while he covered his toast with jam. “When you humans dream, sometimes your fragmented souls observe pieces of Otherworld and of Hell. I know this and many other things because I have spent centuries in this world, possessing one human after another. I have lived hundreds of human lives, and in each one I have charged myself with studying the dreams of thousands of you. That’s how I’ve found out much of what happens in the other Realms. That’s how I discovered that the Phoenix would merge with you.”
Tiberias took the toast that Ignacio hadn’t touched and put it on his plate. He took three more from the bread basket and, after coating them with jam, he took a bite and continued telling them about the bodies he had occupied in his many wanderings through this world.
Gabriel waited until Tiberias left to wash dishes in the kitchen. Even though he had many questions, he finally asked the one that had been weighing on his heart.
“Ignacio? If what Tiberias says is true, the dead will get to leave Hell, won’t they? Which means…” He had to make an effort to continue as his throat tightened, making it difficult to speak. “…that my dad would be free.”
Ignacio closed his eyes for a moment.
“Free,” he said, seemingly chewing the word with caution. “It’s true. Lucifer plans to liberate all the human souls.”
“And that’s bad?”
“I would love to be able to answer that,” said Ignacio, while he looked at Gabriel with sadness. “But after living a few eons, I’m not sure that anything as simple as good or bad exists.”
Tiberias returned then, with a spade in his hands.
“Azrael tends to speak in feints. I imagine it comes, at least in part, from having spent so much time fighting with a sword.” Tiberias left the spade leaning against the wall, and he sat on a chair in front of Gabriel. “Ever since Lucifer created the humans, her primary interest has been defending their freedom. I don’t know how that could be a bad thing.”
Gabriel’s mouth fell open, perfectly reflecting the surprise that he felt upon understanding what Tiberias had said.
“Azrael, haven’t you told this poor boy anything? Lucifer is your mother, young human. Yours and that of your entire species.”
Ignacio took up the spade and left for the yard, clearly irritated with the turn the conversation had taken.
Tiberias poured himself a glass of amber liquid and offered one to Gabriel, who decided not to risk it.
“Few know how Lucifer and Yahweh came to exist. Perhaps not even They know. My story starts, therefore, when They, the Elohim, the only beings in the universe, began Creation.
“Yahweh and Lucifer were opposites, different in every way you can imagine. He created His Realm, Otherworld, by way of thoughts and abstractions, pure energy embodied in stable forms thanks to His will.
“He needed allies who could help Him with what He planned for Creation. He wanted consensus. He wanted obedience.
“Therefore Yahweh took half of His own soul and with it, one by one He created the Seven Archangels, each one with a mission that was integral to carrying out His will.”
Tiberias got up and took an ancient book from one of the shelves that filled his house. He laid it open in front of Gabriel. On one page it showed seven winged beings, each one covered in an armor different from the rest. He recognized the grey armor that he had seen in his dream, but it was the figure who wore white armor who caught most of his attention. It was through that being’s eyes that he had witnessed the battle against the humans.
“But Lucifer decided not to follow His Word. She had other plans for Creation, and She didn’t obey Yahweh,” said Tiberias, returning to the sofa. “She didn’t want order, but rather creativity. She didn’t want obedience, She wanted freedom.
“Unlike Yahweh, Lucifer was profoundly interested in matter and in the possibilities that it conferred. She created this Realm, using all the matter expelled in the creation of the Elohim. She devoted herself to this planet first, with the care and attention of a mother preparing her nursery.
“But even before Yahweh created the Seven, Lucifer had sculpted two figures of clay, similar to Them. She took half of Her soul, broke it into billions of pieces and put one in each sculpture. That’s how Adam and Eve, children of Lucifer, were born; created in liberty. The rest of the pieces, she saved for the children that would come.”
Ignacio returned, covered in sweat and dirt.
“And not long after that, Armageddon began because of it. The First War. Which is why we need to go to Otherworld and look for a way of avoiding a Second War. I can’t be sure, but everything makes me think that the Phoenix has returned to stop that threat,” said Ignacio, while he took a sip of the coffee that Tiberias had given him. He put it aside, surely because of the amount of sugar with which it had been prepared. “I hope that Mr. Galen has figured something out over there.”
“But why do I need to go to Otherworld?” asked Gabriel.
“The only way to avoid a war between the angels and the humans will be through the Phoenix,” replied Ignacio.
“But, how will I get there? You said that humans can’t enter.”
“The Phoenix will enable you to. I will go first to make sure the area is secured for your arrival. Tiberias will help you get there after that.”
They went outside to the yard and Gabriel finally understood what Ignacio had been doing with the spade. It was a grave. Ignacio lay down in the hole he’d dug and closed his eyes.
No one had bothered to explain to Gabriel just how one got to Otherworld.
“Just as humans cannot enter Yahweh’s Realm since He established Order, the beings of Otherworld cannot be in this Realm. At least, not without inhabiting a human body,” Tiberias told him. “To do that we take possession of the body of a mortal, displacing its soul to make space for our own.”
Gabriel had to stop looking at Ignacio, who lay motionless in the ground.
“Azrael respects humans, so he chooses to inhabit the bodies of those who are about to die, and thus only deprives them of their final moments. I believe he found this young man in a hospital.”
There wasn’t a second grave. That made Gabriel calmer, but only slightly.
“And how do I get there?”
Tiberias passed him the spade and told him to cover up Ignacio’s body.
“Nobody knows why, but the humans that merge with the Phoenix can die, go to Otherworld, and return to this Realm and the body they left behind. It’s a fascinating process, really.”
At that moment they felt the front door explode and heard noises fill the house.
“The Shadows kno
w that Azrael can no longer protect you,” said Tiberias, while he pulled a dagger from one of his pockets. Gabriel had a feeling that it wouldn’t be much help against the Shadows. He would have preferred to have the flaming sword back in his hands.
Before he had time to understand what was happening, Tiberias stabbed him in the ribs. Gabriel fell to the ground, feeling more pain than he had ever felt in his life.
“The last time the Phoenix brought a human body back to life was two thousand years ago. He took three days to return. Try to make it shorter this time. I don’t know how long I can last.”
Gabriel could see something human in Tiberias then, something in his eyes had changed. Was he sad?
“The Shadows will have your body, but your soul, and that of the Phoenix, will be safe in Otherworld. Tell Azrael what happened before you left.”
Before losing the use of his senses Gabriel saw how the Shadows tied up a defenseless Tiberias with a chain of some strange material. He heard them call him an abomination and ask him what he had done with the Phoenix.
Little by little Gabriel ceased hearing, seeing, and feeling his body. His soul was leaving him. For an instant, he felt the panic of dying, of leaving behind the body that had been his for fifteen years, perhaps the only thing that truly belonged to him.
Thousands of memories appeared in his mind, as though he were watching his life for the last time. He could see some of the shows his band played. The day he spoke with Emily for the first time. The times they hung out, when he still believed things between them could be different. But he was also invaded by memories that he knew weren’t his. The last thing he thought he saw was bloody feathers, and he heard a scream that seemed full of pain. So much pain.
The Shadows took hold of his body, while his soul, human and Phoenix entwined, traveled to Otherworld.
7
Gabriel opened his eyes and saw a completely white sky, without any sign of the blue to which he was accustomed.
He realized that he was on his back. Turning his head, he saw that he was lying in what appeared to be a pasture, though the color of the grass made him question that. It was as white as the sky above him. He stood up with greater ease than he was accustomed to. It was as though he weighed no more than a feather.
He was wearing a white tunic, though he had no idea where he’d gotten it. Once he was standing he brought his hand to his ribs. He couldn’t find any wound from where Tiberias’ dagger had stabbed him, and the pain was nothing more than a memory.
He noted a strange sensation on his back, as if he were wearing a backpack, but he didn’t have time to investigate before he heard a voice say his name.
“Gabriel, welcome to Otherworld.”
His hair was raven black, and in his eyes compassion and the ability to destroy coexisted. He had seen them before, yet couldn’t remember when. Although he seemed human, there was something in those eyes that clearly was not.
Gabriel didn’t know what to do. He needed to find Ignacio, if he still existed. He said he’d be waiting for him, but where?
A flaming sword appeared in the hand of the man. Gabriel had no time to react as the weapon came at him with impressive speed. He closed his eyes involuntarily, and felt the air stir as the blade grazed his shoulder.
He opened his eyes. He didn’t feel pain. Could it be that here in Otherworld it didn’t exist?
The man smiled, and with a gesture he made the sword disappear. When Gabriel turned around he could see a corpse behind him. On the ground he saw a being with the most beautiful features, wearing a tunic like his. His blond hair splayed around him and his sky blue eyes open and unmoving. On his back a pair of white wings still moved involuntarily.
“They already know that you’re here. We should reach Mr. Galen as soon as possible.”
The sword was the same, but his face had changed. Likewise his body was no longer that of a boy, but rather that of a man; slender, but sculpted out of muscle. Could it really be him?
“Ignacio?”
“Ignacio was the name of the young man who ceded me his body in death. We will let him rest now,” he replied as he approached Gabriel. “Here, I am known as Azrael.”
Indeed, the man in front of him was identical to the one he had seen in the dream. The same grey armor, the same bold smile. Except for one thing; now there were no wings. He couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t have time to lose. He needed to explain to Ignacio, to Azrael, what had happened. The questions he longed to ask would have to wait.
Gabriel told him that after he had left Ignacio’s body, the Shadows had arrived at Tiberias’ house, taking him prisoner.
“We’ll have to find Mr. Galen as quickly as possible to explain the situation to him. Tiberias won’t be able to hold out against the torture for long. There is too much human in him.”
“And my body?”
“Don’t worry about it, they wouldn’t dare hurt it. They know that He would destroy them. Or worse.”
Gabriel now understood those pronouns. He was Yahweh. She was Lucifer.
At that moment he felt the strange sensation on his back again, like something has moved. He saw that Azrael was smiling.
“In Otherworld our appearance is determined by our souls, not by matter, as it is in your Realm. I’ve looked the same for eons; this is the external manifestation of the soul that He gave me so long ago.”
Gabriel remembered months ago when he had first seen those eyes. The day he met Ignacio. Months that now seemed like years. Since then, his soul had absorbed the White Phoenix, the only being who could visit the Three Realms. He’d fought against the Shadows, wielded a sword for the first time. He’d left behind his body, thanks to a dagger rammed between his ribs by an ally; an ally that was being tortured this very moment. He had awoken in Otherworld, the place where angels dwell.
“Your soul is one with that of the Phoenix, so here you’ll look a bit different. However, it seems you look nearly identical,” said Azrael, while he touched something on Gabriel’s back. “Except for these wings.”
Surprised, Gabriel opened them involuntarily, and he noted how he raised a few centimeters off of the ground. It took him a moment to regain his balance, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Flying was a dream now made real. He felt like a child again, as he hadn’t felt since his father had fallen ill.
While he placed his feet on the ground, he saw Azrael approach the corpse and, with the fire that emanated from his hand, he made it disappear. There was something that Gabriel still didn’t understand.
“Azrael, how can you tell the difference between Shadows and angels?”
“The difference?” asked Azrael. “There is no difference. The Shadows are angels.”
Azrael said that Mr. Galen would be waiting for them at the Temple of the Light, located just in the center of the City. As they traveled there, he explained the Shadows to Gabriel. As Tiberias had said, the beings from Otherworld had to possess a mortal to wander the Realm of humans. If the faces of the angels appeared to be obscured, it was because the Light of Heaven couldn’t reach them in the Realm made by Lucifer. For someone who could see with the eyes of Otherworld, they appeared to be Shadows.
Sometimes, the human soul resisted, and the angels didn’t succeed in taking absolute control of the body. That was the reason behind people who seemed to be possessed, cursing in strange languages and contorting into painful positions. It was simply the result of two souls fighting for control of the same body.
When everything went well for the angel, none of that happened. They simply became Shadows, indistinguishable from any other human.
But regardless of the body they were occupying at that moment, the eyes —true windows to the soul— were the same in any of the Realms. That was why, even when occupying a human body, Gabriel had seen the same eyes in Ignacio he now saw in Azrael.
“Aside from that detail,” continued Azrael, “because they have the soul of an angel animating a human body, they become stronger, faster and more res
ilient. The same is true for you.”
Gabriel understood then how he had been able to save his mother when she fell off of the ladder, the reason why Nick’s last attack hadn’t hurt him, and the ease with which he had fought against the Shadows.
“Unlike us, who need to displace the soul of a mortal to possess its body, the Phoenix can merge its soul with that of the human. That’s why even though you carry the soul of an archangel, you continue to be you.”
While they crossed the meadows of white grass, Azrael explained the geography of Otherworld.
“This Realm is much smaller than that of the humans. Unlike your world, this one didn’t grow organically, but instead was created by the will of Yahweh. Without making use of matter, He brought forth this place from nothing.”
The grass was a uniform height across the entire meadow, and Gabriel supposed that it wasn’t necessary for anyone to mow it. All the flowers were the same, small black spheres that swayed in the wind, carrying scents he couldn’t identify. For a few moments, he seemed to hear a melody as well, but before he could ask Azrael about it, he saw him point up.
“In the sky, in that place that appears to be a sun, is where one finds Heaven.”
Gabriel looked up, and realized that he could look directly at it, without it hurting his eyes.
“When He created the Seven, He endowed us with wings to return to Heaven after completing the mission that defines each of us.
“The rest of the Realm, though known by many names, is commonly called Purgatory. The angels that live here are those who have failed one of the missions that He has assigned them, and those who have defied His Word.”
Gabriel remembered his dream, the first time he had seen Azrael.
“Why don’t you have wings anymore?”