by Jorge Silva
“Perhaps it was from being in Lucifer’s Realm or perhaps it was from being so far from Him. Maybe it was because Obedience no longer existed in Creation, or it could have been the influence of the Archangel of Mercy. The only thing I know is that I thought, for the first time, of disobeying Yahweh. I knew that taking Gabriel back to Heaven would mean the end of his existence, like Michael. Or worse that He might punish him with a new mission, as He did with me when He divested me of Justice.
“I hadn’t spent long with the mission of Death in my hands. If my fire separated humans from matter, and thus their souls escaped to the Paradise created by their mother, what would happen if I granted Death to an archangel? Would it free him? Would it save Mercy? What would my fire burn when it came in contact with my brother?
“I still don’t understand what happened. I only know that after incinerating Gabriel’s soul between my fingers, the next time that I saw him he didn’t have his old appearance, but rather the form of a white bird. Gabriel had reincarnated as the White Phoenix, the only being in all Creation that can cross freely between the Realms. Thus, despite Order, Mercy can still be present in all three Realms.”
Gabriel remembered what he had read in Heaven and what he had dreamed about in the human Realm. This time it was he who sighed, remembering his dream.
“Lucifer’s tear was the key.”
“Love, Mercy, Death,” Azrael closed his eyes while he said those words, as if they were a prayer. “I should have imagined that was the answer.”
He opened his eyes again and continued his story.
“I had to leave Paradise as soon as possible. At any moment Yahweh was going to establish Order, and there would be a barrier that not even I could get around.
“While I flew, I could see how the human souls hid from me, remembering still how I had brought them Death. At that time I didn’t feel remotely guilty. I had simply followed what was decreed by His Word. I was happy to see what a beautiful place their mother had prepared for them for their final rest.
“But it wouldn’t stay that way for long. Even before I had left there, Yahweh had begun to throw fire and ashes down upon Paradise. I had known that He would leave the souls trapped in that place thanks to Order, but I didn’t understand the reason for attacking defenseless prisoners. I had been Justice for too many eons to be indifferent to that spectacle. In a few seconds everything was burning, and I was witness to the absence of my previous mission in Creation. I thought about going down to help them, but that would mean staying trapped there.
“I flew with a speed I have never achieved since, and I arrived in Heaven exhausted and broken. Not only had I burned the soul of my brother, but now the destiny that awaited all humans after death would be Hell. Raphael approached, ready to carry out his mission with me, but I explained to him that what was shattered inside me was now beyond even his ability to restore. Perhaps that wasn’t true, perhaps he could have done something, but I wasn’t sure that I wanted to close that wound. Raphael knew that it wasn’t the moment to ask me what had happened with Gabriel.
“I returned to the Throne Room. Yahweh has never been omniscient, as ever since His creation it has been impossible for Him to penetrate Lucifer’s mind; but in Heaven, nothing that the Light touches is unknown to Him.
“When he saw that I hadn’t returned with Gabriel, He asked me about the Archangel of Mercy. I admitted that I didn’t know where he was; He didn’t need me to say anything else. He knew exactly what my disobedience had been.
“Yahweh approached. Resisting didn’t make any sense. His powers are at least seven times greater than mine. But before He could touch me, a white bird appeared in a flash of light and flew between us. It was giant and shone as bright as a star.
“I recognized it immediately. That Phoenix was, somehow, Gabriel. What was it that I had caused by granting him Death? At that time I didn’t know. I saw the Phoenix throw itself against Yahweh, trying to defend me. Even though there was no chance of winning, we fought together against Him. The bird flew around Him, biting and scratching with its talons. I brandished my sword and tried to injure Yahweh, even though I knew that was impossible.
“A few moments earlier I had wondered what would happen if I granted Death to an archangel. Now, shrouding my hand with purifying fire, I wondered what would happen if He were to receive it. He who, to carry out His Word, had been willing to sacrifice my brother Michael. He who had deprived the children of Lucifer of their earned rest. He who had decided to torture me with visions of every death in Creation. When He saw the fire cover my hand, He stopped His attacks for an instant. Had He felt fear?
“He didn’t need to call on another of the Seven to help Him. In a movement faster than it was possible for me to perceive, He grabbed my wings and immobilized me.
“I still remember the pain, and that I had to collect all my strength to exhale a single word, ‘Flee.’
“The Phoenix understood and disappeared in a flash. Lucifer and I were in agreement about at least one thing. If something should remain in Creation, it was Mercy.
“Yahweh needed Death to continue to exist. It was the only way for Him to send humans to Hell and leave them trapped there. But He wasn’t willing to tolerate a danger so close to Him. With a wrath greater than I had ever seen in Him, He destroyed my wings until my back was covered with two terrible wounds, but not a single feather.
“Without releasing me, He went through the doors and onto the bridge where the rest of the archangels were waiting. Upon seeing me divested of my wings they all understood the message. From that day forward Death would be barred from Heaven.
“He let me fall. Without wings that allowed me to fly I gained speed at a dizzying pace. Above me I could see only a trail of blood, caused by my wounds, and below me a grayish field that was quickly getting closer. When I finally hit the ground I produced a crater on impact.
“And that’s how I became the first inhabitant of Purgatory.”
16
When Azrael finished his tale, the three remained silent. Tiberias took the opportunity to scout ahead. There was something strange going on. Despite the fact that they’d been walking for a few hours, they hadn’t run into any people.
“How much time passed while we were in Purgatory?” asked Tiberias.
“Two months, more or less,” replied Gabriel, who’d done the math. “Why?”
“Since we’ve come back, we’ve seen only Shadows. Where are the humans?”
Gabriel had been concentrating on Azrael’s story so he hadn’t really noticed. The Archangel of Death invoked his sword, and gestured to Gabriel that he should do the same.
“I hope it’s not too late.”
Despite containing souls from Otherworld, their human bodies wouldn’t allow them to run with the speed that was required. Hours passed jogging and walking, resting when they had no energy left. Some dogs and cats followed them, coming closer whenever they stopped long enough to pet them, even if only for a few seconds. But they continued on without encountering a single human.
They saw some empty cars on the side of the highway. Tiberias got into one that still had the keys in it, after brushing away a white dust that covered the seat.
“Buckle up tight; it’s been a long time since I last drove.”
With all the other cars immobile on the highway, he could easily move around them. Tiberias kept his foot glued to the accelerator as Azrael sat quietly in the passenger seat. Gabriel spoke from the back, “What happened here?”
Azrael shook his head and gestured for silence. “I’m not sure yet.”
Just below the sign that announced the entrance to Gabriel’s city, they saw the first human figure, unmoving and ghostly white, with his eyes fixed on the heavens.
Tiberias stopped the car and they all got out. Azrael approached the figure and put his hand over it. It came apart and fell to the ground. Gabriel moved to touch the scattered white grains on the ground, the only remains of the figure. He raised a hand t
o his mouth. It was salt.
He looked up and saw that Azrael gripped his sword with so much force that his knuckles were white. Tiberias put a hand on his shoulder and gestured for him to look ahead. Hundreds of white statues were in the street. Some vehicles even had drivers made of salt, unmoving behind the steering wheel.
Gabriel had never seen Azrael furious before. Without saying a word the archangel began to run in the direction of Gabriel’s house. There were too many abandoned cars in the middle of the street to start driving again anyway. Each time that they passed one of the statues it would scatter in their wake.
They ran behind the Archangel of Death, trying to keep up. There weren’t only statues in the area. Whenever they came across a Shadow the flaming sword didn’t give it time to react, leaving only a few to be caught by Gabriel’s shining sword or the dark spear of Tiberias. As they passed through the street, they left a trail of ash and salt behind them.
Gabriel stopped in front of a house. Tiberias was about to say something to him, but Azrael shook his head. Gabriel knew that Azrael would remember who lived there. After all, she had been his classmate too.
He was going to ring the bell, but the door was ajar. In the foyer there was a salt statue which, judging by its size, had probably been Emily’s father. Gabriel climbed the stairs quickly. He knew he should get to his house as soon as possible, but he needed to be sure. Perhaps he could save her too; perhaps he could see her one more time.
Standing next to the door was Nick, turned into salt, with one hand extended as though he had tried to defend his girlfriend. Gabriel found her on her bed, with her gaze eternally fixed on the ceiling. Her black hair had turned white, as had the rest of her body.
He felt like time stopped while he looked at her. He found himself unable to take his eyes off her. Ever since he had seen Lucifer, he hadn’t thought much about Emily, but now that he had her before him his feelings for her returned, even if just for a second.
When he had been only human, he hadn’t been able to save his father from death. Now that he carried the soul of an archangel, he still hadn’t been able to save the person who knew him best. “At least,” he thought as he left the room, “I’ll be able to see her again in Hell.”
He descended the stairs in silence and ran past Azrael and Tiberias to keep heading towards his house. They didn’t need words to understand what he had seen.
After a few minutes they arrived at Gabriel’s house. Azrael and Tiberias went in first, the flaming sword shining in the archangel’s hand.
In the living room, the black stains still on the carpet, a man was holding a giant broadsword in one hand and Gabriel’s mother, her face wet with tears, in the other.
“What took you so long?” he asked in a derisive tone.
Gabriel didn’t recognize the man, but he knew that he was from Otherworld. His blood-red eyes weren’t human. Nonetheless, he didn’t have the darkened face of a Shadow. Gabriel tried to throw himself at the man, but Azrael and Tiberias held him back.
“It won’t be with weapons that we save your mother. I would recognize those eyes anywhere,” said Azrael. Yet it was Tiberias who whispered the name.
“Ramiel, Archangel of Vengeance.”
“Gabriel?” asked his mother, in a voice broken by pain. She had spent months living with the greatest suffering that a mother could endure: thinking her child was dead.
Ramiel lightly touched his weapon to Gabriel’s mother’s head and a lock of her hair turned rigid and spilled to the floor.
“He wants you to return to Heaven. Right now. Do it, and I’ll spare your mother.”
Gabriel had returned to the human Realm to send his mother to Hell. Did it matter if it was Ramiel and not he who dealt the final blow?
The archangel ran the point of the sword into Gabriel’s mother’s hand. The cry of pain lasted longer than the instant it took for her hand to turn into salt. Her wedding ring, which she had begun wearing again since the funeral, fell rolling to the floor.
“It would appear that your son is indifferent to your fate.”
Gabriel got on his knees and looked at his mother. He tried to calm her, but he knew it was in vain.
“Mom, everything will be fine. Soon you’ll be with dad, and there will be someone watching over you. Everything will be fine.”
Ramiel smiled, raising only one side of his mouth.
“Azrael, do you want to explain it to him, or shall I?”
Azrael put a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. With each of the bodies that the archangel had possessed the comforting gesture was the same.
“Gabriel, in the statues that we’ve seen, I haven’t been able to sense the trace of a soul passing.”
Gabriel turned his head and looked at him without understanding.
“I don’t know why, but the humans turned into statues of salt haven’t received Death, so their souls haven’t followed the path to Hell.”
Ramiel laughed then, and Gabriel guessed that Archangel of Vengeance knew perfectly well why that was the case. He stood up, and once more tried to liberate his mother by force. Once again, Azrael and Tiberias stopped him. Gabriel knew that it would only take a second for the archangel to turn her completely into salt, but he couldn’t control himself. His mother was in danger of a fate worse than Death. What would happen to her soul if it didn’t go to Hell?
Ramiel ran the blade of his weapon over the arm of his captive, turning it to salt. His mother didn’t even have the strength to scream anymore. It was the first time that Gabriel had seen the Archangel of Vengeance, but he didn’t need to see anything else to understand what Ramiel was capable of.
“Lucifer and traitors like you three have made it impossible to carry out His Word. We must remove the blight, before it ruins what we’ve planted.”
He raised the broadsword, and the ground began to tremble. Azrael took a step back, his grey eyes wide with surprise.
“The humans don’t deserve to rest anywhere, not even in Hell. They don’t deserve to be immortal and sully Creation for all time.
This broadsword was created by Him to deal with them,” said Ramiel, with the same conviction that Gabriel had heard before in Uriel.
“The souls are absorbed by it and remain prisoners within!” exclaimed Tiberias.
Ramiel smiled as he nodded in agreement.
“Uriel thought that if she showed you Heaven, the difference between the peace of following Him, and the suffering of the mortals, you would ally yourself with us,” he said, lowering his weapon. “Cerviel and I knew that you were a traitor. Because of you, Lucifer and Her pestilence continue to swarm over Creation. Aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to hear His version? You would blindly ally yourself with Lucifer, who your own species has called enemy for thousands of years?”
Tiberias threw himself at Ramiel, who grinned. Even though both of them were occupying human bodies, the powers of an archangel were incomparably superior to those of a mere member of the celestial host, even when limited by matter.
With a simple movement, he rammed the broadsword into Tiberias, slashing through his body with ease. Before he turned into a statue of salt, the angel managed to whisper a single word.
“Now.”
While Ramiel absorbed Tiberias’ soul, Azrael leapt towards Gabriel’s mother and took her in his arms even as his left hand began to burn. Ramiel tried to free his weapon, but Tiberias had the blade grasped between both hands while his body, bit by bit, turned to salt.
In a few moments the woman lay dead on the floor, and her soul flew towards Hell. Azrael hadn’t only prevented her from becoming a prisoner in the broadsword, but he had saved Gabriel from doing the unthinkable. It would not be him who had to kill his mother.
“Good luck explaining what happened to Yahweh,” said Azrael, as he abandoned the body that he had used and returned to Purgatory.
Gabriel prepared himself for his own flight; anchoring himself on the memory of Hell, he focused on arriving near his mother. Hi
s body fell to the floor on his side and he placed his hand on hers. Thanks to Tiberias’ sacrifice, the next time that he saw her would be in Hell. The last thing that he saw was Ramiel, whose red eyes shone with fury as he looked at the motionless bodies around him.
17
Gabriel opened his eyes.
His mother was kneeling by his side, caressing his face with tenderness. He saw that her arm was restored. It was one of the few advantages of having left matter behind.
He got up and helped his mother to do the same. He opened his wings to cover her and protect her from the ash and embers that fell from the sky.
“Gabriel, am I dead? Is this Hell?” she asked, caressing his cheek just as she had done in life.
“Yes, Mom.”
Gabriel had wondered if it was better to lie to her, but the truth would become impossible to hide soon enough.
“I tried to be good. I really tried. I never thought I would end up here,” his mother began to cry, and Gabriel hugged her, letting her bury her face in his chest.
“Everyone ends up here,” he told her, as he kissed the top of her head for the first time.
“Everyone? Who is everyone?” asked his mother, raising her head to see her son.
“All humans come here when they die,” he said, and he felt the same ire that he had felt when Azrael had first told him that truth.
“Does that mean that you’re dead too?” she asked, with her eyes full of tears.
“No, Mom, I’m not dead. Not yet,” replied Gabriel, watching as his mother lowered her head.
“I thought that you were dead. Over two months without hearing from you.”
Gabriel realized that his mother was less concerned with being dead and being in Hell than with having finally found her son.