by Jorge Silva
There, Tiberias would tell them about the progress of his research. In one form or another, he wanted to bring Azrael to this new Creation. The Archangel of Death had saved him on innumerable occasions, as he recounted in his book, and he felt as though he owed him.
“On the other hand,” he said, “as long as I don’t succeed in bringing him here, I don’t have to worry about time. I’ll be immortal along with the rest of the humans.”
It was during one of these gatherings that Gabriel dreamed for the first time in this new world.
He saw how Azrael flew through the universe that they had left behind, his six wings protecting him and giving him a speed that exceeded Uriel’s Light. Even though it was only a dream, Gabriel felt the presence of It, which stalked his brother from nowhere and everywhere.
As fast as Azrael was, Gabriel couldn’t avoid thinking that the flight of his brother would never end. How did you escape from something that wasn’t anything? From something that was not? Furthermore, Yahweh also wanted to recover the broadsword, since absorbing it would leave only Azrael’s soul between Him and becoming One again. Fortunately, He had lost half of His strength when He created the broadsword and Azrael was more powerful than any archangel, thanks to Lucifer’s gift.
Gabriel awoke, dizzy with disorientation from following Azrael’s flight without any point of reference. How long had he been flying with the sword in his hands? How long could he resist It?
He saw that Lucifer had Her eyes open and he whispered in Her ear, “I just dreamed of Azrael.”
She remained silent as they embraced each other for the rest of the night.
When the sun rose, Lucifer gave everyone an apple and Gabriel spoke to them all about his dream.
“I also dreamed of him,” said Raphael. “It was similar to what Gabriel saw, but sometimes I heard a noise that didn’t come from Azrael, which makes me think it could only have come from It. It was a sound like a storm that reverberated the air. Just as in the past, in the dream I could read Azrael’s mind. He cherished hearing that sound, even though it wasn’t pleasant, because he preferred it to silence. Whatever it was that allowed him to sense his enemy was better than sensing his absence, though he knew it was impossible.”
Tiberias asked for another apple from Lucifer, and he admitted that he too had dreamed of Azrael.
“I don’t recall his figure, but I know it was him. It’s one of those certainties that only come in dreams. For a few moments I thought I also saw It, even though I don’t think it was anything more than my mind trying to make sense of what was happening around Azrael. Would I be able to see It even if It was right in front of me? Would something that was nothing have an image? But It couldn’t be invisible either, because that would be something, being invisible.”
Lucifer interjected.
“When I gave Azrael half of my soul, he became something distinct from an archangel. I suspect that as one of the Seven he wouldn’t have been able to resist the influence of It for long, and he would have gone insane after being stalked continuously for so much time. I think we can rest assured that as long as Azrael doesn’t stop, the Void will never catch him and our new Creation will be safe. And if Yahweh tries to take the sword from him, he will face an opponent worth fearing.”
Gabriel, just for a moment, longed for Oblivion. He could never be at peace knowing that his brother had to hide for eternity, always at the mercy of It. Without even knowing if the strategy that he had come up with would work. Without knowing if their gamble had paid off.
The four parted ways; Tiberias and Raphael headed north together, while Gabriel and Lucifer headed south.
They walked for a long time searching for a place to settle. The soles of their feet were already hardened by the contact with the ground. On top of a mountain one day, taking Her by the waist, Gabriel whispered in his companion’s ear, “What would you call this world?”
Lucifer smiled.
“I would call it Earth.”
25
Gabriel had already read Tiberias’ book, in which he called the women and men who had lived for centuries Methuselah. Without the fear of death, humans had dedicated themselves to harvesting the earth, hunting animals without knowing their deep kinship, and enjoying the fruit that the trees gifted them. They only interrupted their calm existences with occasional quarrels brought on by Vengeance.
Each time they met Tiberias he had new entries in his book. He had continued to write, trying to be sure that nothing from the first days of this new Creation would be lost, that nothing was forgotten by its inhabitants.
One day, Gabriel saw Tiberias arrive at the refuge that he had built with Her. They had chosen a place hidden in a dense forest, crossed by two rivers.
He called out to Lucifer as Tiberias approached. She was wearing a dress of leaves sewn together with threads so thin that they could have been hair. He wore an animal pelt hanging from his powerful shoulders, strong from the use of his ax. Between them, a child played with a wolf, chasing it and being chased, both baring their teeth and rolling about in the dirt.
Gabriel hugged Tiberias, who smiled, surprised by the gesture. Lucifer took the hand of the boy and brought him over to them.
“Dear Tiberias, I’d like to introduce you to our son, Ignacio.”
The surprise on Tiberias’ face grew, as he bent down to offer his hand. Ignacio shook it, then returned to playing with the wolf.
“But how?” Tiberias asked Gabriel.
“Apparently, we’re completely human,” he replied.
“So it would seem,” said Tiberias, with a tinge of worry. “We need to talk.”
They spoke for a long time by the warmth of the fire. Lucifer had gone to bed early, taking their son into their tent made of branches and pelts.
“I know that what I’m proposing to you is difficult, even more so now that you’re tied to Earth not only by your love of Lucifer, but also by your son.”
Gabriel remained silent for a few moments.
“Are you sure it will work?” he asked, playing with a stick in the fire.
“No,” said Tiberias. “But it’s a good bet.”
Gabriel smiled and pulled the stick from the flames. The tip was alight and he brandished it, remembering Azrael and his flaming sword. Azrael had been the one who had last said that phrase, and he had won the bet.
“Let me say goodbye,” he said to Tiberias, and he entered the tent.
In whispers, so as not to wake their son, Gabriel explained everything to Lucifer. Any other human would have resisted, would have begged or demanded that he not leave Her side. But, She had already waited for him for thousands of years. She could wait again.
“Promise me that you’ll return to us,” She said.
Gabriel would have followed Tiberias’ plan even if it had only meant a possibility of saving Azrael. But it was also the only chance the humans had of recovering Death.
The Earth wouldn’t last long without anything to limit the existence of the living. If it continued this way, their son would end up living in an overpopulated world; where pain, hunger, and the suffering they caused never ceased.
He kissed the forehead of his sleeping son, then Her lips. He whispered, “I promise.”
When he returned to the fire he had tears in his eyes, but Tiberias said nothing of it.
“Ready?” he asked.
Gabriel nodded.
They left, walking in silence, with the stars above their heads. In his chest Gabriel felt the gleam of a memory, of a human who had, in a place far away, decided to sacrifice everything to save Creation.
It wasn’t just matter that had made him human. He would risk everything to save Azrael and the inhabitants of Earth. Being willing to leave Lucifer and their child, without knowing how he would return to their side… that was what defined him. He didn’t do it as a mission assigned by someone else, he did it freely.
Gabriel kept walking, with his head held high, towards his sacrifice.
0
Ignacio could barely keep running, but stopping wasn’t an option. The Shadows that pursued him were too close. He didn’t need to look behind him to know that.
He had never seen a Shadow before, but after the long minutes of running from them he knew them well enough. They wouldn’t stop until they had him.
Snow covered his brown hair, and the animal pelt over his shoulders didn’t manage to protect him. It was so cold that his throat hurt with every breath. Yet he could sense that if one of the Shadows managed to reach him he would feel a chill much colder than the air that surrounded him.
The stone walkway over which he ran offered him a clear path to follow. He couldn’t remember how he had gotten here, but that didn’t matter now. All that was left was to run. To escape. To prevent the Shadows from touching him.
It was a dark night, but a hoary light allowed him to see a few meters ahead of him. Though he couldn’t be sure, it seemed as if the light became brighter and brighter as he ran, as though he were getting closer to its origin.
How much longer would he have to run before he reached it?
It was then that he felt it. Something had grabbed him by the ankles. Something colder than the snow on which he trod. Ignacio tripped and fell hard to the ground.
The Shadows surrounded him and now he couldn’t see the light that he had been chasing. A darkness even blacker than the night enveloped him. He couldn’t see anything, he couldn’t even breathe. He knew he was going to die.
He was only fifteen.
Someone began to sing then; a feminine voice, sweet but firm. He couldn’t decipher the words, but he understood their meaning. They were about the light that he should reach.
The song sought him out, getting closer and closer to where he had fallen. The Shadows receded, as though they had been dispelled by the music, and he could once more see the light.
Clenching his teeth, numbed by the terror of being touched by them again, he ran. He ran with the speed of a man fleeing death itself.
The song grew fainter and fainter, but the light shone brightly on. When he was only a few meters from it, he no longer felt the Shadows behind him.
What he saw, however, was not a light, but rather a giant bird, whiter than snow, more radiant than the stars.
With a smile, Ignacio approached it and caressed one of its wings.
Acknowledgements
I wrote this book before I met Lucifer.
I want to thank her for taking the time to revise, comment, critique, destroy, and improve it, and above all, for being alive.
Thank you Kait Moon, this translation is even better
than the original thanks to you.
Rita took the time to edit this book as a favor, and she found inaccuracies from plot holes to wrong pronouns; all of which she brought to my notice with snarky comments that made me smile.
Thanks for making this book better than I deserved.
Sam read the book so many times (even backwards once),
and she was able to find typos and make great suggestions.
I am most thankful for her unwavering support.
Thanks to Kateryna, Seth, Stephanie, and Susan,
who found typos and mistakes that were overlooked,
and saved me from embarrassment.
Finally, I want to thank all the people
that backed the translation, and made
the English version of Sacrifice possible.