Her father had told her that she was welcome to visit anywhere she pleased on his lands. She found herself wondering just how large it was. Celeste longed to learn everything about it. How far did it expand? What were the people like? She hoped that there were more than just the undead. It was a little unnerving getting used to the handmaidens of bone and the zombie-like warriors. She had so many unanswered questions. Her first thought was to visit the library, but her father insisted that she must first fully awaken before she could understand.
He was as kind as he was frightening. There was something there, a fascination with strength and power. He was the sort of man that led the army into the charge, not sit from the sidelines. There was a fierce sense of love and loyalty. Yesterday he had trained for well over ten hours beside his generals. Much to her relief, the generals were at least more human looking. She wondered if it were a sign of rank to have all of your flesh covering your body.
It was obvious that her father demanded what he expected of himself, and yet, that same man didn’t bat an eyelash at her killing a servant girl that had been good to him for years. What did that say about him─ about her? She was, after all, his blood.
If this was who he was, who was her mother? Her real mother. Celeste frowned, looking down at her hands. She had killed a woman, permanently. She had the power to actually do that, to anyone. She should have wept when her father told her that the handmaiden was gone and would never return. She should have, but she didn’t. Who am I?
If the other existed─ why was her father so eager to unleash that. Her body convulsed uncontrollably, the chair straining beneath her. What good could come of something whose sole purpose was to destroy? She hoped that her mother’s lineage was enough to balance her impulses. Perhaps that was why she was here, to meet her mother and be trained. Her father had been very quiet over the entire matter and told her that it would become known in time.
Her thoughts wandered to Lain. How was she coping with the loss? Celeste wanted to go back desperately, but her father had forbade it. She secretly hoped that someone else had taken her in. The young girl had so much potential and love to give. You could take her away from that. The thought shook her, but she found that curiously she wasn’t upset. The child would be better off. There was little things worse in this world than family that cared nothing about each other. People stealing money off of their own blood was completely unacceptable. When she got back, that would all change. She had the power to change that. Maybe this new life wouldn’t be so bad after all. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was something different about her─ something indifferent. It was as if all of the rage and hurt had left from her body the moment she woke in the chamber.
She would have welcomed this before. In another lifetime. Celeste was barely even identifying as herself anymore. She was slowly becoming Kiwako, and knew that it was only a matter of time before her human memories were forgotten. Daniel’s eyes flashed in her mind and a slow smile spread across her face. How had he been since she was gone? Hopefully, living his life and happy. It must have hit him hard when she was there and then suddenly gone. There was something about him─ some way that she felt connected to him even now. She found herself longing for more and more. Maybe soon, her father would allow her to surface or let Daniel visit. Of course, he would have to side with her father’s sentiment and her own, but she was certain that wasn’t an issue. They were meant to be.
There had been someone else there before, she could sense it, but couldn’t quite remember. Bits of dark hair and pale grey-blue eyes were all she could recall. Scars─ There were definitely… scars. The thoughts left as quickly as they had come and she moved on. Her Earth father was more than likely exhausting every resource he had to find her. She hoped that Scott above all would quickly move on with his life and find more than her to worry himself over. She could hope, but she knew what was really going to happen. He would search the earth and afterlife looking for her. It was a shame that he had dedicated his life to his family. She silently prayed that he would eventually give up. He deserved happiness and that’s where it needed to end. As much as she wanted to deny what was happening to her, she knew that it was inevitable. Why does it have to be? Celeste snapped at her, after all we are one in the same. We can fight this.
She dismissed her human thoughts and stood suddenly, eager to be rid of them. Kiwako crossed her room and then walked out into the hall. The single corridor that ran from her room was lined with soft yellow lanterns every so many feet. They cast a narrow half-circle of light that kept the space lit, but not bright. She barely glanced at the atrium as she strode over the large, smooth stepping stones. The Japanese maple were beginning to turn colors. She frowned, realizing that it meant they were heading into the fall. It meant that it was at least October. Six months. How time had flown. Kiwako was surprised to find that seasons existed here. She secretly wondered if her father had done it to make her feel at home.
She expertly crossed through the maze of hallways, and then paused before the great hall. She breathed deeply as she stepped into the warm, earthy space. The entire room was covered in trees, greenery and a singular large, clay statue. The first time she had seen this place, she felt how special it was. There was a feeling of wholeness, and purity. It was the kind of room a person could become lost in meditation.
She removed her house shoes and stepped onto the cool pebbles. They gently massaged her feet as she padded to the clearing in the center of the floor. She knelt on the ground and took a long breath before eventually letting it out. The air was pleasant, but slightly humid against her skin. Her gaze shifted to the grand statue before her. The woman stared down at her, the epitome of beauty if there ever were. Her face was smooth, and delicate, her hair so long that it reached the ground. Her kimono was a real jūnihitoe, the long train rippling behind her like water. The multicolored sleeves dipped elegantly, nearly touching the floor. The intricate purple-blue patterns of the twelve-layer kimono were wove together in such a way that they could have been plucked from the night’s sky. Its multi-layered texture was bulky, yet smooth as silk. Atop the woman’s head was a delicate half-crown of gold. The light burst from behind her body, casting a halo.
Mother.
Kiwako wept, finally cleansing herself from her former life. Celeste seemed as if it really were all a persona, or a past life. She looked back at all of the sadness that her life left in her. There was nothing but stress, hurt, loss. How could she have really been so full of that many emotions? It was exhausting. The haunting blue-grey eyes appeared again. Yet, as hard as she focused to remember it was replaced by another. Someone that felt as if they were a part of her. Not next to her, because she couldn’t envision their form, only how they made her feel. Strength, power, completion. It was as if this particular part of her was a piece that was missing. She had a feeling that this is what her father had meant when he said that she would only be able to understand once she was made whole. After some thought, she realized that the girl’s death─ her father’s concubine meant nothing to her. Many things were slipping from her, like sand through her fingertips. There was one thought, first and foremost burning through. She looked up, her mother’s marbled features as proud as they were gentle. She must keep alive what her father had fought for all of these years, building up this world to one day face the enemy. Her sadness was strong, yet fleeting and though it had been virtually eradicated, her emotions still existed in waves. Her real mother was alive.
11 Azrael
“Fuck.”
Michael glared across from him. “You do realize that damn mouth of yours is what got us into trouble in the first place.” John nodded, unable to hide his disappointment. “But, we really are stuck here? There has to be another way. What about the tests?” Michael groaned, massaging his shoulders. “Yes,Uriel, we are stuck. Last time I checked, Fallen do not have souls.” John clenched his jaw at the mention of his given name. “Don’t.”
Michael stood and pointed a f
inger, “this is on no one but you. You had to get here, your way, and now it has cost us everything─ me, everything.” John winced at Michael’s quieted voice. If he thought Michael was finished, he was sorely mistaken. “What’s more, I am now stuck in this god-forsaken husk. I am dying every second that I draw breath.” Michael’s head fell, “Once the General of Light, fighter of evil, he-that-leads-an-army-against-the-dark-prince and his legion as it is foretold in the book of revelations─ to now being as mortalas they come.” His voice was nearly a whisper. “Mikail, I─” Michael held up his hand cutting him off, “Yes,Uriel, I am ecstatic to know that I will soon join the Æther rather than the spirits of my brothers for all of eternity as a mindless mass of energy that exists between the realms.” He paused, looking to the dark hallway facing the North, “Or worse, become nothing. None of us really knows what happens after our eternity has been stripped from us now, do we?”
The atmosphere was deadly, silent. He was right. Of course he was, but Michael had never said it this plainly before. It was he that everyone had feared before. If John had a tenth of his power, they could simply waltz into hell and scoop up whomever they wanted. It had been his job, after all, to preside over the abyssal kingdom. He was the Archangel that many had come to fear. In the days of old, it was him that had been assigned to check for the sign. During the Mad King Herod’s Killing of the Innocents, Messiah had fought back, proclaiming that every first born child would be taken unless the family marked the door with a sacrificial lamb’s blood. All of this after the earthly king had been warned to release those that he had wrongfully enslaved. It was Uriel that had been tasked to take each life. Stunned, he blinked several times. A memory had returned to him. A real memory.
Michael had been chosen for his ability to inspire others through speeches, and fierce battling skills like no other. John couldn’t meet Michael’s eyes. He hadn’t even processed what all of this meant for his brother. He had been so selfishly caught up in restoring Mitsuko that everything else had fallen to the wayside. In all of this he had lost himself and taken an innocent down with him.
John had abandoned his angelic name long ago. Its meaning was useless to him now. He had taken his earth name because it belonged to one of the most beloved prophets of all time. Ages ago, John had saved the infant during the Killing of the Innocents. What better way to honor him, than to take the boy’s name? He hung his head in shame. He was no prophet, he was no longer the fierce archangel sent to destroy legions of darkness alongside his brother in arms. He was a selfish asshole.
John swallowed the knot forming in his throat. Finally, he found his voice, “I promise you. I will find a way.” Michael’s gaze finally met his. The fire in his eyes had subdued to a dull roar as he shook his head, “there is no way out of this mess. Even if we were to complete the tests, we would have no way to return.”
“You will let me be the judge of that.” John and Michael jumped at the deep rasp behind them. Michael flashed in front of him, his arms held out. “Azrael, don’t. It is─”
“Shaâs Mikail, Broddah. Oesh’ braė hâ.”
Michael relaxed and his arms fell to his side. The language of a thousand waters was too high born for John. He had long forgotten angelic tongue, but he knew enough to realize that Azrael’s words meant peace. It wasn’t simply the tongue he recognized, it was the sensations that came with each phrase. He too relaxed and stepped from behind Michael’s broad form. John’s eyes turned to the sky. If ever a doubt had existed in his mind, at this moment it was screaming incoherently. The creature that towered before them was no man.
Peeking from his robes were bits of flesh covered in thousands of dead, unblinking eyes. Its back sprouted wings that stretched behind view and were many. So many, that he could not count. His robes, though covering most of his body, moved as if something bubbled beneath. They flowed in a steady, water-like movement. His voice had been a sound that would bring leagues of grown men trembling on their knees. Its face, though slightly luminous, was kept hidden beneath the billowing hood. John could barely make out an outline of the sharp, angled face and lithe, sinewy appendages. The air pressed heavy upon him─ every draw of breath more labored than the last.
John fell to his knees, his mortal body struggling to stand before such magnificence. Wetness gathered and then spilled over his face. Michael, almost still full power, remained stoic but slowly inclined his head in respect. There was something that John had not felt his entire days in the Æther, or in all his days as a human. In seconds, he was made new. A child-like fascination awoke within him─ his world was opening to countless possible futures. The possibilities as endless as they were obtainable. Yet they were happening at this very moment, yesterday, today, at this very second, thousands of years ago. He was a young woman, no, an old general, no─ a child freezing in the arctic air─
“Close his eyes.” Azrael snarled. “He is not yet ready.”
His world fell to the darkness. John jerked his hands upward, desperate to rip his eyes apart. He wanted to exist here, now, in this forever. John’s hands were roughly pinned and then bound behind him. He roared in protest, straining to pry his eyes apart.
12 Internal Affairs
The flames danced along the length of his frame. He was held by a woman that bathed in the same golden light. The screams rose around them. Her own voice rising in a fierce battle cry as she charged forward, leading her brothers and sisters against the impossible waves of the opposing army. They fell from the sky by the thousands, shining wings on their backs and spears gleaming from the newly rising sun. Her legs never stopped moving though it was clear that the odds were stacked against them. The sound of men and women’s cries faded as the gap closed. He frantically called to her, their minds linking together. Small snippets flashed from her mind to his. There was a plan, he sensed it within her. Something stupid, desperate, and genius all at once. He tried to draw more from her, but she steeled herself from his prodding. The men shifted into formation, the archers shifting into three rows in the back. The front line formed the arrowhead, hoshi formation, and his eyes widened. No, this was for familiar terrain, close quarters and level ground. Their enemy was falling from the sky! A gleam from the empress’s hand caught his attention and he glanced over. He stared in disbelief at the tiny metal─ it was a ring, glowing with tiny sigils. He squinted to make out more, but all too soon, her hand was hidden from view. The gap closed between the ranks and seconds before the inevitable collision the front line blinked, leaving only their archers behind them bordering the outside and the eastern front.
Silence, dry brittle air, and a crackling storm ignited all at once around them. They blinked back into existence along with half of their army. He opened his eyes─ the world was normal but it was wrong. They somehow were flanking the enemy from true west. Even confused, the seasoned warriors recovered in seconds, charging next to their empress. The opposition had realized this a fraction of a second too late. They had the advantage for as long as they needed. The arrows flew into the fray, attacking first the enemy and then crashing into them.
Daniel jolted out of his chair. He frantically searched the room, his body crouched in defense. Renji spat, hissed and then bolted from the room. Rubbing his eyes, he slowly oriented himself to the space. Home. He was home. “What the fuck,” he muttered stumbling down the hall. He searched in the bathroom and then circled back to his room. He finally located the terrified ball of floof under his bed. Renji was so puffed up his tail was the size of Daniel’s arm. “Easy boy,” he murmured, stroking the cat behind the ears. Renji growled, and then chirruped quizzically, but allowed his gentle intrusion. Daniel stood finally and walked from the space. Renji would come out when he felt that the danger had passed. He didn’t blame the poor little guy. That was some yell he had let out earlier.
He let out a sigh as he stepped under the hot water. It had been a long time since he felt a connection like that. The last time had been when he was with Celeste. That thought gave hi
m pause. Was he seeing the future or the past? Was it simply a memory like the last connection they shared? There was something about the visions that seemed─ off. He is always there, at her side but he isn’t. Maybe he was only able to see through her memories. He turned off the water and stepped out. The last one he had seen was Celeste’s childhood memory. Did they all work that way? As much as he wanted to assume, his detective side was screaming at him. There was something that he was missing, something big. So the ring did have a purpose. The question was, how did it work? The lab had come up with nothing, it was completely clean. He needed to investigate it more, but for now it would have to wait.
He shrugged into slacks and a sweater, tugged on his boots and grabbed his keys on the way out. His shift didn’t start for another two hours, but there was no way that he could go back to sleep. Not after all of that anyway. He turned left onto Renner Parkway, following the route that spilled onto Renner Road. It was early, but traffic was always bad off of Campbell to merge southbound on to 75. Especially anywhere near the university. Hell, since they built the new Toyota building 75 was a nightmare in both directions. He sighed at the small line of cars in the turn lane. Schools were nearing midterms, which meant double the usual morning traffic. It was a little slower to go the back route, but he knew these streets in and out. He had been a patrol officer for nearly six years and was born and raised here. At this point, he could probably drive with his eyes closed, even down most of the residential areas. Still, this was abnormal for five in the morning. His work ringtone went off and he quickly answered, “Detective Wallis.” “Good morning, detective,” she responded, “I’m surprised that you’re already awake.” He chuckled, “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep, what have you got for me?” Kate typed in a few things before responding, “We’ve got a signal 7, Detective Paloma is 10-49. Are you ready to copy?” “10-4 dispatch, show me en route.”
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