by J F Cain
Aranes didn’t seem surprised by the occurrence that had shocked Eiael.
“The qualities Abaddon is developing are unknown to us for the time being. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions about anything concerning him and especially about his true intentions,” she said, her expression revealing none of her thoughts.
“Yes, but the fact that he doesn’t have his angelic consciousness …”
“You forget who you’re referring to,” Aranes interrupted her in a gentle yet determined tone, indirectly reminding her that Abaddon was not only her partner, he was also one of the highest-ranking Celestials.
Eiael was brought up short by her spiritual mother’s tone of voice. The truth was a hard slap on the face, bringing her to her senses.
Aranes was right. She had gone too far. With her stance, she was essentially doubting the Source Itself, whereas just a few moments ago she had said she wasn’t capable of judging the reasons behind Its actions. How could she have dared to question Its choice? Realizing how unbelievably rash she had been, she lowered her head in shame. “Eternal Soul, please forgive me,” she said with sincere remorse.
“You have let yourself get carried away by fear, Eiael. That is unacceptable for a being of your level,” Aranes replied more gently this time. Her tone, however, made it clear that she wouldn’t tolerate a repetition of this behavior.
“I truly am very sorry. There’s no excuse,” the theurgist admitted.
“You’re human and it’s natural to make mistakes. But remember that it is impossible for you to understand, never mind judge, intellects superior to your own, let alone the Supreme Intellect,” Aranes counseled her.
“Rest assured, I will never make the same mistake again,” the head of the Guardians assured her.
Aranes was watching her spiritual daughter’s bent head with a worrying feeling.
“I hope so. As we both well know, my partner is going to suffer great hardships in order to complete his mission. I expect you to support him, not criticize him.”
“Your wish is my command,” the theurgist replied.
“Eiael, look at me!” Aranes demanded and waited for her to lift her gaze. “This mission must succeed at all costs,” she said, her expression emphasizing the undertaking’s significance.
“I will give even my soul to support it,” the Guardian head promised decisively.
“I hope no one’s soul will have to be sacrificed, but if it is necessary, we will do it. The human race must be awakened come what may, before they destroy their kind and the planet with their indifference.”
The theurgist regarded the Superior with an utterly sober expression on her face.
“I understand the critical nature of the situation. The Guardians will do their duty.”
“All of us who serve the Source must honor our vow, no matter the cost,” said Aranes, and at that moment it was as if she was telling herself.
When Aranes entered the room, Abaddon wasn’t there. She grabbed her cape and went down to the entrance hall again. She passed by the castle’s left wing and went out through the back. There, she saw him standing in front of the dais, his arms folded across his chest. He was staring at the wind-stirred remnants of the bodies without really seeing them. A grim nightmare of abandonment and loneliness had cloaked his eyes. And his awful emotional state was only made worse by the inner battle been waged between desire and necessity, the two eternal enemies that fight for dominion in the battlefields of people’s souls.
Aranes approached him and rested her hand on his arm.
“Please, Abaddon, don’t be angry. There’s no other way,” she said gently.
“Are you sure about that?” he asked, without taking his eyes off the fire.
“Yes,” Aranes replied. “My nature doesn’t permit me to get carried away by petty emotions.”
Abaddon turned and looked at her in astonishment.
“Love is a petty emotion?” he asked, practically horrified.
“Love, no; but egotism, yes.”
“Is it egotistical to want to have the one you love close to you?” he asked, annoyed.
“When that can cost humanity dearly, then yes,” Aranes returned steadily.
The Dark Angel shook his head speechlessly. What could he say to that irrefutable truth?
“Abaddon, the Guardians are very important for maintaining balance on Earth,” she went on, her pleading gaze asking him to show the proper understanding. “Even so, today I was forced to make a decision that will wipe out most, if not all of them. Don’t you think we should also make a sacrifice?”
Her question was left hovering in an icy silence interrupted by sudden gusts of wind.
“I know you’re right, but just the thought that we won’t be together hurts me,” he said after a while, discouraged by his inability to change the wretched destiny that loomed ahead for him.
Aranes’ love-filled gaze sank into his soul, there where truth is the only principle and is acknowledged even if one’s consciousness wants to deny it.
“I will be with you, no matter where I am. Our souls are bound forever,” she reminded him, trying to comfort him.
Abaddon moved away from her, deep in thought.
The Source was opening a chasm before him and was taking from him the only guide that could lead him through its gloomy darknesses. Why was It putting him through this? Since It knew that without her, he was lost. Despair made him buckle and he tried to avoid the sacrifice he had to make. “Can’t we leave it all behind us and go back where we belong?” he asked, even though he knew the answer was no.
Aranes gazed at his back sadly. Their connected souls made her feel the intensity of his pain and she suffered with him, but she couldn’t afford to give in.
“Your feelings are clouding your judgment. Remember that we are here for a reason.”
Abaddon turned and looked at her tiredly. The load he was carrying had already started to weigh him down.
“Yes, I know, the prophecy …” he said, his expression betraying frustrated acceptance.
Aranes went to him and rested her hands on his arms, which were still folded on his chest.
“And more. We have undertaken an extremely difficult mission that will truly put our souls to the test. I had told you, Abaddon. This is why I was preparing you all these months.”
“You didn’t tell me you were just going to up and leave me,” he retorted with a frown.
“I’ll never abandon you,” Aranes replied, looking straight into his eyes. “But I have to do my duty, as do you. We are not human, so we can’t stay on Earth and live our love. We are Celestials and have committed ourselves to the service of balance. We can’t avoid the facts. However, their outcome does depend on us.”
Abaddon’s expression turned cold.
“I will do anything for you and our child. But how can I be sure that when everything is over, we will be together? The Celestials’ stance till now hasn’t inspired much confidence. Something tells me that, in the end, they’ll take you and our child and leave me here. Besides, you are their most powerful weapon and I am nothing but a Dark Angel,” he said angrily, avoiding blaming the Guiding Mind directly for his partner’s decision.
His hostility toward the Celestials upset Aranes.
“Weapons are of no value to someone who doesn’t want war. We are forced to fight in order to preserve the balance and so that everyone can have freedom of choice.”
“But apparently, I don’t have any choice in this case, do I?” he remarked bitterly.
“We always have a choice, it’s just that sometimes we don’t want to see it because it requires sacrifices,” Aranes replied and removed her hands from his arms. As she looked at him, her eyes silently begged him to see reason; then she walked away sadly.
Abaddon bent his head and gritted his teeth so that he wouldn’t scream. He couldn’t see any choices. All he saw was a life without her and their child, and was overcome with despair.
He stood at the altar for a
little while longer, staring absentmindedly at the dead Guardians’ ashes scattering in the air, then went in search of a place in the castle that was free of human presence. He wanted to be alone, like an injured animal in the wild that wanted to hide its wounds so that none would question its strength.
Abaddon materialized in a sitting room at the far end of the right wing, which the Guardians rarely used. He sat down in one of the classical armchairs, rested his head between his index finger and thumb and, with his gaze fixed on the cold fireplace, he tried to recover from the unexpected blow.
His superficial calm didn’t reflect his emotional state. After his discussion with Aranes, he had lost all hope of preventing their separation and just the thought was driving him mad. He wanted to transform and swoop down like a wind from Hell and destroy the Demons who were the reason he was losing his beloved partner. He breathed in deeply and tried to gain control of his emotions. The Ethereals, who were definitely watching at that moment, would see his aura whirling wildly around him and would know that he was ready to explode.
What did you expect? he asked himself, trying to think rationally. Aranes was the Source’s most perfect expression and therefore the most glorious of Celestials. It was only logical that It would one day take her back. He had hoped that, because he was the fulfiller of the prophecy, It would do him the favor of leaving her with him. He shouldn’t have hoped. Aranes had told him that, precisely because of that reason, he would be facing great difficulties. But he hadn’t wanted to face the truth. Which was why he was now in this grim position. Even though in his life he had never avoided problems and unpleasant situations, when it came to his only love, everything changed. His deep and unquenchable need for her presence had turned him into a frightened creature dependent on any type of contact with her.
Just days ago he had again found himself in the position of losing Aranes without being able to do anything about it. However, he hadn’t used that premonitory event to prepare himself for the inevitable. And he was the only one to blame for that. Hadn’t It asked him to keep his word at the hospital? What sign could be clearer than that? It had warned him in different ways, but he had insisted on turning a blind eye. Had the fact that the Source had given him Its beloved daughter made him think he was so important that all of his wishes would have to be satisfied? Had Aranes’ tireless efforts to instill in him the spirit of the Celestials had no result? And if so, who or what was to blame?
He wanted to escape his human-centered views and gain a transcendental comprehensive consciousness that would extend the limits of his comprehension. And because—for the time being—that seemed impossible, he devoted all of his mental powers to try and open a crack in the wall of eternity, through which he would perhaps be able to catch a glimpse of the future the Sovereign Power had in store for him. But only perhaps, because from what he had seen, even those who possessed that level of consciousness could never be sure of Its intentions.
His thoughts were interrupted by a pulse that announced the Dark Lord’s entry into the sensory world. Abaddon lifted his eyes from the cold fireplace and saw Lucifer appear in his ethereal form, with his aura rippling around him like a murky black cloud through which his form could be hazily seen. The Lord of Darkness had lowered his vibrations so that Eiael, who was dining with the other Guardians at the other end of the castle, wouldn’t sense him.
Abaddon assumed an expression of extreme animosity and displeasure that would make any other Demon think twice about appearing in front of him at that moment.
“Whoever said that misfortunes never come singly was right,” he said and let his arm drop onto the chair’s arm. “What do you want?”
The incorporeal Ethereal’s clear gaze fell on his rival’s, mysterious and penetrating.
“Conceited and ungrateful. Those aren’t the qualities of an Angel, even a Dark one.”
Abaddon’s self-control was tested by the Demon’s gall.
“I don’t think I owe you any gratitude. I’m sure that you helped me save Aranes because that served your purposes.” He tilted his head to the side curiously. “By the way, why do you keep sending that poor Lyla? Aren’t you tired of seeing her fall flat on her face? Make your move so this can be done.”
If you weren’t so sure that in this case the Celestials would come to your aid again, you wouldn’t look so stupidly confident, Lucifer thought. He slipped his hand in the pockets of his black pants with his usual arrogant ease. “Thanks for the advice, but as I’ve already told you, I’m no longer after Aranes. And as for Lyla, let’s just say that I have a bit of a discipline problem when it comes to her,” he said, once again sacrificing his ego at the altar of his goal.
His lie didn’t convince Abaddon. Even so, he had no reason to point it out.
“That must remind you of someone,” he remarked mockingly.
“Yes, Aranes. She always does whatever she wants without asking anyone. Especially you,” the quick-witted Fallen paid him back in kind. “Females are tough,” he added with false exasperation.
“I don’t think she succeeded in becoming the highest-ranking entity by making wrong decisions, and she doesn’t need to ask me. She knows very well what needs to be done in each situation,” Abaddon defended his partner.
Lucifer’s lips tilted up in an odd smile.
“I must admit, you’re right about that. Her wisdom is one of her qualities that makes her … much sought after, if I could put it that way. But that is something you will have to remember,” he pointed out provokingly.
His words roused Abaddon’s anger, but he quickly checked it so that it wouldn’t show in his aura.
“What are you getting at? Say what you want to say and leave!” he said icily.
“What I want to say is you don’t seem to trust her particularly. You see, although you’re an Angel, you’re behaving like a human, whereas although she’s human right now, she never forgets who she really is. Maybe that’s your problem. It’s hard for a male to accept that his partner is superior to him,” the Lord of Darkness concluded with the seriousness of a professional psychoanalyst.
“Have you ever considered a career in marriage counseling?” Abaddon scoffed.
The experienced slanderer wasn’t affected by the Angel’s tone.
“The truth is I’ve excelled in that too. I think it’s right to help others see the truth about their relationships.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but we don’t have such issues,” Abaddon retorted.
“You’re so focused on one-upping me that you aren’t getting the point,” Lucifer remarked.
Abaddon arched his brows mockingly.
“Which is …”
The Fallen let a few seconds pass to give more weight to what he was going to say.
“That important information is being kept from you,” he replied, hitting his rival where it hurt.
The Dark Angel nodded slowly.
“And I was wondering why you’ve honored me with your presence again. So what is it that I don’t know?” he asked, using irony to hide his avid interest in what the cunning Demon meant, since unfortunately he knew a lot more than he himself did.
Lucifer took a few steps closer.
“Haven’t you wondered who concealed Lyla and her associates? Who has forced Aranes to shut herself up in the Exorcists’ fortress?” he hinted.
Abaddon didn’t know much about the concealment of entities and places. He just remembered the one time, before his transformation, when Aranes had been convinced that the Source would conceal some of their discussions in order to evolve Its plan. The topic had only come up again the previous evening with the Exorcists. He had intended to ask her, but had left it for after the funeral, but in the end, with the upset her upcoming departure had caused him, he had forgotten about it. Even so, it was obvious to him who was responsible.
“The answer is right in front of me,” he replied, regarding the two-faced Demon with blatant loathing.
“Although I must admit I woul
d love to have that power, I’ll have you know it wasn’t me,” Lucifer said with feigned compassion for the clueless fellow at whose expense others were playing their dirty games.
“Really? So then who did it?” Abaddon scoffed.
Lucifer looked his rival straight in the eye.
“The Source,” he stated soberly.
The Dark Angel burst out laughing.
“You’re really ruthless. I wouldn’t put much past you, but this is going too far.”
“You won’t be laughing so much when your beloved confirms it. Ask her. I’m sure she’ll tell you the truth, even if it puts her in the horrible position of having to admit the methods It uses.”
Abaddon’s sarcastic smile conveyed his disbelief.
“I’ll keep it in mind. Anything else?” He wanted to get rid of the Demon before Aranes, who he could see was looking for him, entered the room.
But the Lord of Darkness saw it too.
“Just for the truth to shine,” he replied smugly and jerked his head toward the door. “Just in time. She’s coming.”
Abaddon’s eyes darkened, radiating menace.
“Leave,” he commanded the Demon fiercely, ready to transform and remove him using force.
The Celestial’s aggression didn’t faze Lucifer at all.
“Don’t worry. She can’t sense my presence anyway and you’ll finally realize that I have no intention of taking her.”
Before Abaddon could react, the sitting room’s door opened and Aranes walked inside. As soon as she passed by Lucifer, he looked at her indifferently and then followed her as she headed to her partner’s side.
“I wanted to talk about some matters,” she said, searching his eyes for an indication of his mood.
The greatest of Demons stood behind her left shoulder and regarded the Celestial seated opposite him.
“Ask her,” he challenged.
The Dark Angel ignored him.
“I’ll be with you in a bit,” he told his partner, as if nothing was amiss.