by RAVENC JAMES
Come to my House and face the truth.
And I promise you. It will hurt.”
With my eyes still wet with tears, I flew upward, passing one house after another, and used my wrath to speed up my flight. The phrase it will hurt was stuck in my mind. Whatever this Great Riddle was, he’d better not. He’d better not. I was so focused on reaching the top that I did not notice another presence flying beside me.
“Orieumber, take a deep breath.”
Although his voice startled me, I did not slow down.
“I don’t have time for this,” I told Traquus without looking his way. I could not, even if I tried, for my eyes were once again filled with tears.
“You have to remember. This is an academy. It is a learning place. You’re safe here. Everyone is safe here.” His voice was calm and soothing, but it failed to appease the burning feeling in my chest.
“He took Venir. That darkness took him!”
“All you have to do is learn the lesson.”
This time, I slowed down a little to face him. “Lesson? Isn’t it enough to read books, acquire knowledge? Isn’t that what it’s all about?”
“You’re not a simple receptacle of knowledge and information. You are a person. This academy is more than its books. And everything is not what it seems.”
“Is there any other lesson deeper than the thought that this academy is my mother?” I scoffed.
“Then trust her,” he said, his eyes starting to glow. “A mother wouldn’t hurt her children.”
This knowledge strangely mollified me, and my fear lessened a little. Please let his words be true.
My heartbeat started racing again when I reached the top house and descended on its tread. But before going inside, I turned to Traquus.
“Do you advise every angel on their way here?”
“No.”
“Why me?”
“Because I don’t want you to fail. You have so much potential,” he said, smiling sadly.
“I know you’re not an ordinary angel, so you might as well tell me. Are you one of the guides in the academy?”
His eyes glowed, and a smirk curled his lips. “Something like that.”
I nodded and turned toward the entrance of the House of the Great Ordeals. But I swore, before I was engulfed in complete darkness, I sensed a huge shadow pass over me.
Did Traquus follow me into the house?
CHAPTER 18
Sitting on a marble chair, Damien examined the document on the table. Down below, the floor was littered with six-inch tablets—all made up of yellow sapphire. Nine piles of tablets, each of which was three feet in height, were spread across the floor.
“You must not like what you are reading to have your brows twisted.”
Damien grinned before he shifted his gaze up to meet the owner of the familiar voice.
“Were you finally bored on Earth that you decided to fly back here?” Damien asked, his eyes appraising his friend’s suit-and-tie ensemble. If not with the pair of wing-like rays, Ali could be mistaken for a human. Ali was an agent of Intelligence Cabinet, a department responsible for securing highly confidential and security-related information inside and outside of Ether.
“I was brought here to help you with your case,” Ali said.
Damien’s eyes narrowed. He watched Ali saunter and sit on the stool across from him.
“So, what’s our case?”
“We have lost many angels to the mist,” Damien answered.
Ali shook his head. “The mist has been in existence for quite a while now. It’s been established that it’s a kind of portal and that those who disappeared with it were transported to another dimension.”
“We now have evidence that the mist is intentionally abducting angels against their will. And we have evidence that links it to the Great Riddle back in the academy.”
“Let me get this straight. Are you saying that the mist is no longer considered a natural phenomenon? And it’s somehow connected to the Great Riddle?”
“Yes. And yes.”
“But isn’t the Great Riddle just a test in the tenth house?”
“It was, and it still is. However, the mist disguised itself into a Great Riddle to abduct the angels at the academy.”
“You’re talking about it as though it’s a creature with intelligence.”
“Evidence suggests it’s an intelligent creature that chooses its victim well. Thanks to our scribes in the angel-tongue department, we know those who were taken exhibited red eyes.”
“So that’s why they brought me in on the case because they thought the angels were demon-possessed? We all know demons can’t possess an angel.”
“We think that the mist is either a demon creation or a demon itself.”
Ali’s mouth hung open. “A demon here in Ether? How did it get past our guards?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
He knew he was coming the moment he heard the whistle. When you heard it, everyone knew Archibard was nearby. His whistle was distinguishably his. Bard was the chief scribe of the angel-tongue department. He collected and translated ancient stories and books into angel-tongue and delivered them to the academy for study. His department’s main job was to sort out information by level of difficulty while throwing untranslatable books into the mix.
“Damien, Damien, are you deliberately standing in my way?” he said.
“Do you have a minute, Bard? I just want to speak to you about something.”
“Oh, sure, whatever it is, it should be about something.” He laughed, amused by what he just said.
“It’s important. Are you headed home? I’ll walk with you.”
Archibard grinned at this statement.
“I would love that. A walking companion! It’s been a long time since I had one.”
“Bard, don’t go there. This is just a one-time walking companionship.”
“One always comes before the next and the creation of many habits,” he said and then smirked. “You shall find out that my companionship is quite addicting.”
Whatever, Bard. Heading south, they walked along the garden walled with red flowers.
“Do you have some good stories for me?” Archibard asked. His voice belied genuine excitement.
“Not this time,” Damien answered nonchalantly to Archibard’s disappointment.
Archibard stopped walking. “What would make you a good traveling companion then?”
Damien knew that Bard was not joking this time. Everyone needed to prove his worth for Archibard’s attention. They resumed walking.
“I just want to know if you have any more information about the angels with red eyes.”
“I won’t tell you unless you answer my riddle.” Archibard grinned, amused at Damien’s frustration.
“Alright,” Damien answered dejectedly.
“Good!” Archibard then started.
“Who is he that courts everything,
Gods, angels, demons, or fellow being,
Except for one that scares him at night,
Who is bound to get him with a scythe?”
Damien glanced in Bard’s direction and answered, “It’s easy. It’s a man.”
“How did you know?” he asked, striding on the grass-covered pathway surrounded by flower beds. This was the area in Ether where the flowers were taller than angels.
“Well, you mentioned all the possible beings except man.”
“Right, right.” Bard paused and bent down to pick up a glowing rock. He examined it closely before putting it inside his pocket. “So, do you want to know about my latest findings?”
“That would be helpful.”
“My initial analysis was that they were all demon-possessed. But I revised my analysis after I examined a few cases with a similar appearance.” Archibard’s cheerful tone turned gloomy. He stared at Damien with a distant gaze. “When my last report came, I was first shaken with fear, and then it hit me. No one should know this.”
“Wha
t is it? Give it to me.”
“No one is ready to know this.”
Archibard gave him a strange look and then clasped Damien’s hand.
“Home sweet home.” He smiled at him. He strode inside his house of sphere and closed the door without much of a thank-you or an offer of water. Damien stared at his hand that Archibard a minute ago held. He opened it and found a ruby stone.
The brilliance is stronger in the morn,
But shrouded in eternal fantasy,
Of descending not from its amber throne
And burst in deep ruby.
Damien repeatedly read the verse until it was rooted in his memory. But what good did it serve him when its message remained elusive? It was not unusual for Archibard to write his findings in verses, and he would usually understand, as his verses were simple. This one, though? He found it utterly confounding.
At home in his sphere, Damien was playing a board game called Master Mind while floating in the air with his legs crossed. The game was played with a silver checkered board. Projecting from the middle box was a piece resembling an angel. The player needed to direct the angel’s path as he moved to increase his navi, represented by an orb hovering about its head. Each time an angel stepped on a square box, an enemy or a foe would spring out of it. It was a mind game, as the player needed to figure out a pattern to find which tiles to skip, avoid, or proceed. With the way the game was progressing, Damien could almost smell his impending victory.
He was deep in concentration when the small crystal orb sitting on the table below him started glowing red. He lowered himself to reach the orb and touched it with his palm. Its inside cleared out, and Ali’s image appeared:
“Damien, you’re needed at the Communication Garden.”
The Communication Garden was built in the middle of a crystal-clear lake that served as the watershed of all the water-communication tributaries in Ether. The water would absorb everything—all the angels who passed by the stream and the conversations they had during that time, so on and so forth. All of this would be sent to the crystal lake and be recorded by the water's ruby stones. Then it was the responsibility of the angel-analyst to interpret the data.
“There is something we’d like you to see,” Ali said, leading him into the communication room. The officers stationed there were surprised at his presence.
Damien’s gaze fell on the ruby stones on the table.
“Is there something wrong with them?”
“You tell me,” Ali said. “These stones are considered corrupted, according to our analysts. We’ve exhausted all the available resources to interpret them, but the information remained unintelligible. We started to think the stones are malfunctioning.”
Damien knitted his eyebrows. “Malfunctioning?”
“Whether naturally or deliberately, we don’t know yet.”
Damien’s frown deepened. “Let me see the stones then.”
“Help yourself.”
Damien picked up one ruby stone and examined it.
“It looks like there are linguistic patterns inside.”
Ali came to his side. “You think so? That’s new. None of the analysts said anything about patterns. They just assumed it’s all a bunch of gibberish.”
“How many stones are affected?”
“A hundred, and there must be others that are yet to be discovered,” Ali replied.
“That many?” Damien peered at the stone in his hand. “What are you hiding, little stone?” He could see the strokes, but he could not decipher their meaning. His forehead puckered. “I don’t see anything wrong with the stone. It did its job, recorded raw information directly from the source. It doesn’t interpret data. It doesn’t translate the information.” His gaze shifted back to Ali and then moved to the other angels standing in front of him, patiently waiting. “Have the archangels been informed about it?”
“Do we have to?” Ali said, clearly surprised at the implication of Damien’s question. Involving the archangels would elevate this case to Archangel Level. Agents who handled this type of case were required to have a maximum high-security clearance—that was, a kind of clearance only given to an archangel.
“I think we have to. This is not a garbled message. The stone recorded a very ancient language, much older than the oldest angel.”
He did not have to look at their faces to know what their reactions were. Mouth-gaping, eye-bulging, mind-baffling—these were all expected. After all, what he implied was something everyone believed to be inconceivable.
“Are you saying…” Ali paused to gulp, “that what was brought by our channel and was recorded by the stone was information about a god?” Ali looked dumbfounded.
As far as angels’ memories were concerned, the gods had long been gone before the angels got the chance to meet them.
“Aren’t they all dead?” one angel voiced everyone’s question.
CHAPTER 19
The Communication Garden was teeming with angels scurrying back and forth, freaking out with excitement at the incoming archangel, a major one at that. Who else, but no other than the archangel Gabriel himself? Although archangels were the chief angels that ruled Ether, it was a rare occurrence to glimpse one of the elder archangels, and Damien, just like the rest of the angels, was basking in the rarity of such a sight.
Major archangels such as Gabriel had a long and wide energy glow that brightened the entire garden. Although his presence may signify ill-tiding, they could not help but be enraptured, for the archangel was the closest they had to glimpse the face of a god.
Gabriel walked along rows of angels standing at attention and stopped at Damien.
“Come with me,” he said.
Flabbergasted by the sudden turn of events, Damien followed him, leaving confusion among his comrades. He had never attended a High Meeting before, for a simple and obvious reason: he was not an archangel. It was absurd that what others may feel exciting was to him a slow walk to his execution. He recalled whatever things he had done to get him in this situation. They’d already submitted a report regarding the messages trapped in the ruby stone whence he thought his expertise ended. Was it insufficient? Inept? Amateurish? The archangels possessed more understanding of the ancient language than Damien could only dream of having. They did not need him. Hence the question. What had he done that warranted his presence in the High Meeting?
Gabriel stopped his strides and, with his sword, drew a figure of a portal in the air. When the portal was created, it glowed and threatened to suck Damien in. But he resisted, rather clumsily that he stumbled a little.
Gabriel stared at him in amusement. “It's just a door, Damien. Now, get in there.”
And because he trusted the archangel with all his life force, Damien heeded the order and walked into the threshold. He found himself in a chamber with walls of glittering diamonds.
“The last time we were like this, we were heading to war,” Gabriel said to the already-seated archangels.
Damien’s heart was heavy, beating loudly in his ears as he hid behind Gabriel. But when the archangel took the seat next to the still-empty head of the table, Damien was nonplussed. Where would he sit? The only thing working in his favor was that they did not seem to notice his presence. Not yet, anyway.
“I could use some action myself,” Uriel said, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
“How’s Earth nowadays, Gabriel?” Raphael asked in a somber tone.
“There is nothing unusual. However, the mortality rate of the mortals tripled in the last decade.”
“And you don’t find it unusual?” Jophiel asked.
Damien knew all the archangels, as it was part of the lessons in the academy. He knew who they were and what they all looked like, but he had not seen all of them in person, especially Michael. He felt a flutter in his stomach at the idea of meeting the chief archangel. They said that if one wanted to see what God looked like, he simply needed to behold the visage of Michael.
“I should, but I can’t
find evidence other than it being part of a natural selection.”
“It sounds like a disaster to me,” Jophiel commented nonchalantly, yet his face was defiant, as though he was daring Gabriel to prove him wrong. Damien assumed Gabriel would take it with levity or otherwise completely dismiss it with practiced charm. It, therefore, caught Damien off-guard when Gabriel instead did something completely undignified—he scowled at Jophiel. This was a different kind of Gabriel from the one Damien pictured him to be.
“So it’s my job to watch over them?”
Gabriel’s repartee was met with silence, when suddenly in synchrony, they all rose. Damien stiffened and rooted to the spot. Although he could not see him yet, he knew who was about to join them.
To Damien's right, a portal appeared. The Chief of the Archangels strode into the room, his radiance blinding Damien momentarily. When Damien's vision cleared, Michael had already claimed the head of the table. The archangels sat back as soon as Michael was seated.
“It is not Gabriel’s responsibility to protect mortals, but mine,” Michael started to say. “Can someone provide our guest a seat?”
Gabriel swiveled his head in Damien's direction and grinned.
“There you are.” And then to Jophiel, he said, “Mind if you give up your seat for him?”
Jophiel’s eyes narrowed. Damien stopped breathing. But when the archangel vacated his seat, he released a loud sigh that gave the archangels a good chuckle. With his legs stiff as wood, he made his way to the offered seat.
“Is this meeting about Earth?” Raphael asked.
“No, it’s about Ether,” Michael answered. “These…” He raised the pouch and poured its content on the marble table.
“Ruby stones?” Raphael asked, confused.
“Take one of those stones and tell me what you notice,” Michael urged.
Each archangel, except for Michael, picked up a stone for examination. It did not take long for Gabriel to put his back.
“Damien here,” Michael pointed at him, “is the one who discovered that the messages inside the stones are not garbled, but instead written in an ancient language, which you are all familiar with.”