by L. J. Amodeo
“Go get some air, Mikael! I will speak with Abigail. Go!” Erez insisted, keeping his voice as smooth and calm as gentle waters. Michael’s body, now a rigid, hard fighting machine, tensed at every clanging of the bells. He reluctantly took a step back. With his hands fisted and his shoulders rigid, he walked out of the room. Erez gently wiped away Abby’s tears.
“Don’t let Mikael upset you, Sister. He’s changed since he’s met young Elizabeth. You, as well as the council, noted the change in him, I’m sure. You know how hard it is for angels to be in physical embodiment. It’s a constant struggle. Now, tell me everything that’s happened.” The high priest led Abby to a seat at the table.
As Abigail explained what had occurred at the lake, Erez and the council members took mental notes. “We left her at The Flame with Deborah and Victoria—it was urgent we find Michael. We hadn’t heard from him, so Faith asked me to come here. I . . . we didn’t realize he’d been here the entire time. And, Freddie—it seems he hasn’t fought to completely rid himself of the mark; this makes it easier for the Watchers to locate him at The Flame. We shouldn’t have left him there with Elizabeth! Why didn’t we leave him at the Cavern? We screwed up!” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“We will fix this, Abby. What about Beth? Did she show signs of being ready to deliver the infant?” the high priest asked.
Abigail nodded, wiping her nose again. “No, I left her sleeping. But I fear it’ll be any day now. She’s grown in size. I fear she won’t be safe there for much longer. Not with Freddie around.” Abby’s face showed fleeting signs of despair.
“She’ll be fine as long as Freddie is contained and she doesn’t wander off the sacred grounds. But I don’t understand how they’ve tracked Elizabeth. They have no jurisdiction within The Flame.”
“I explained it to you. It’s Freddie—his mark has alerted Luca’s army, and they have alerted the Trackers, whom we both know are not restricted from The Flame because they are mortals.
“We’ll get her to safety first, before they step foot on the grounds. Where are Faith and the Legion?” Tobias snapped.
Abigail’s large eyes widened, intimidated by Tobias‘ stern voice.
“The Legion went looking for Michael, and then they’re heading to the caverns. We never suspected he’d return here with Elizabeth in such danger.” Abby stole a glance through the window at Michael who paced nervously in the gardens.
“May I ask why he is here? His absence leaves the south portal vulnerable and unprotected. Without our leader, it gives the Hellions an advantage over Mikael’s Blue Legion army, especially at a time like this!” she reminded the council.
Zadok, a prophet and prominent scribe, stepped forward. Zadok was usually in the vault of the Trinity, documenting his prophecy and transcribing universal laws and historical facts for the council. He came from a long lineage of prophets and scribes and rarely came out to attend council meetings. However, this time Zadok had been summoned to state the laws that had been broken by Archangel Mikael.
“Abigail, Mikael has committed a travesty among the Legion. He has therefore, been stripped of his human embodiment. According to the Universal Code of Creation, which inscribes every creation in our existence, Mikael has broken the foremost critical code in our realm. In the Akashic Records, every human and angel alike is registered. It’s a compendium of records; memories of all events, thoughts, feelings and actions ever presented in our universe. This is what I do and why I’m here today. I record all of these memories, the connections each one, angel or human, has to the other; the entire history of souls since the dawn of creation. But there is one creation that I don’t have any records of. One birth that should not have been conceived.” Zadok’s eyes trained on Michael who continued to pace outside.
Abigail stood silent, trying to process what the prophet and scribe was implying. She wasn’t certain if Zadok had been referring to Elizabeth, who was with Freddie’s child. She was sure that Elizabeth was registered as the chosen one for Luca in the Akashic Records, destined to procreate with the father of the Dark Prince. Somehow, Elizabeth had defied the laws, but Abigail was still stumped and had no idea what any of this had to do with Michael, or why it was Michael on trial and not Freddie.
“Do you believe Elizabeth will be okay? Will she and the baby survive the birth?” Abby asked directing her attention on the other members of the Trinity.
“Let’s hope so,” Zadok replied, turning on his heels to return to the underground archives. Abby quickly snapped a look at Erez, who called for Michael to re-enter the chamber.
Michael was in deep discussion with Erez when Bricius interrupted their conference. “Time is of the essence, Erez. Let’s hope your darling princess stays put and doesn’t run off with the child upon its birth. She seems to have a pattern of epic screw-ups!” he remarked sharply, directing his words at Michael. Michael stretched his neck as the pulse in his temple throbbed noticeably. The council’s chattered abruptly hushed. Abigail sensed the tension between her cousin Michael and the outspoken Bricius. Michael stared deeply at the arrogant council member.
It wasn’t until Philip had stepped into the room that the heightening anxiety in the chamber dissolved like salt in water.
“There is no use arguing over what already exists. If we stand around, I’m afraid Elizabeth will not survive the birth of your son, Mikael. As for you, my son, I’m afraid that you’ve been stripped of your human embodiment and therefore cannot return to The Flame, leaving both mother and child vulnerable.”
All including Abigail stood quiet, suspending a thick layer of tension in the already dense air. Abigail’s face turned to a horrified, jaw-dropping stare, as she sputtered and choked at Philip’s mention of the baby’s father. Yet, Philip’s voice remained calm, as Abigail and Michael could only look to one another, both turning and rushing out of the room, knowing that the child’s birth was only a matter of time. Abigail wept, unwilling to believe what she’d heard coming from Philip’s lips.
“Has Philip spoken the truth about you, cousin? That you’ve been stripped? What have you done? Please tell me it’s not true!” Abigail choked back tears.
Michael could not respond. The tension that mounted in his jawline pulsed at every pounding step he took upon the ground beneath his feet.
It wasn’t difficult for Abigail to keep up with her cousin’s speed. Although, Michael’s legs were longer and more massive compared to hers, Abigail’s small frame allowed for quick movements in and around the terrain.
“Michael, what do you think you’re doing? They’ve taken away your human form! The council has voted that you’re not to return to The Flame!” she shouted at an angered Michael. He wasn’t listening. He continued running, ignoring her words.
“Abby, did you tell Elizabeth to stay put?” Michael shouted as their speed intensified.
“Yes, I told her not to wander—to stay in her room,” she shouted back.
“Did you tell her that she’s safe at The Flame? That the Watchers have no right to enter the territory?” Michael asked more perturbed this time.
Abigail’s face hardened. She, as well as Faith, had reminded Elizabeth numerous times to remain on the grounds. Abby swore to protect her, not babysit her. However, it occurred to the cherub, that she had never mentioned the sanctity of The Flame or to be on the lookout for Trackers, who were not off limits to enter Lake Louise.
Centuries ago, before the Legion renamed Lake Louise, the property known as the Flame had been called Tutum Refugium. It was granted to the Legion as sacred grounds, grounds that were surrounded and protected by blessed waters. The yearly rainfall of the sacred waters cleansed the grounds of Tutum, therefore burning the flesh of any demon who dared to enter. Tutum Refugium was Latin for ‘safe refuge’. These grounds were off limits to the Watchers because of ancient agreements between Dante, his army and the Legion, most particularly Faith, who endorsed the written consent with Dante.
Dante, a handsome man with
deep green eyes and salt-and-pepper hair, was as severe as he was successful in bartering for human souls or recruiting fallen angels. He was Satan’s human counterpart. Each angel, fallen or not, had a human likeness when walking amongst mortals. They were able to adopt a human form to blend in with humanity. It was in the spirit world that their true forms, whether angelic or demonic, evolved.
Dante, had long had a soft spot for Faith’s incredible beauty. He’d tried for centuries to court her, but Faith’s oath was to God and her Legionaries. She was snowy, tender, and delicate on the outside like the bloodroot flower, yet strong and powerful on the inside, like all Legion warriors were. Gentle, soft, and bound by blood, Faith was strictly business. Dante’s charm never impressed her, nor was she easy to intimidate, usually getting what she wanted, including negotiations of Dante’s consent to stay off Trinity territory.
“Michael, it’s not the Watchers we should worry about, it’s the Trackers who have located her,” Abigail informed the troubled archangel. In a flash of fury, Michael’s body lifted off the ground in an angry protest, causing vicious winds to thrash about and howl like the cries of angry wolves. Yet his gossamer wings did not spread out in glorious splendor like they had for thousands of years. Abigail could only watch as her cousin fought desperately to accept his fate at the Trinity.
“Let the shadows come forth, for the signs I foresee are a prelude of their demise. I shall conquer and destroy!” His voice boomed across the land as Abigail’s image slowly faded.
The Guardian Angels of life fly so high as to be beyond our sight, but they are always looking down upon us.
~ Jean Paul Richter
“Ah!” I cringed, waking up to a pain that debilitated me. The ache was excruciating, causing me to pull myself on my side with a little help from the headboard.
“I’ll help you,” a voice whispered from beyond the shadows of the bedroom corner.
Terrified, I sat up rubbing the pain that pulsed on my waist. “Who’s there? I can’t see you. Show yourself!” My voice trembled.
A thin figured man with graying hair walked out of the shadows. My breath caught in my throat as my father emerged, stepping into the ray of light that illuminated my bedroom. Struggling to get out of bed, I very much wanted to run to him and wrap my arms around him. My heart felt broken, and seeing him only escalated my sadness and pain.
“Daddy, what are you doing here?” I asked, reluctant at first about his unexpected visit.
“I’ve come to check on you. I want to make sure you’re safe and keeping yourself strong,” my father said.
“Dad, I’m so sorry about the mess I’ve made of everything. I . . . never wanted this to happen. Are you disappointed with me?” I finally asked, leaning in to hug his waist. The touch of his fingers caressing my hair caused my heart to settle.
“We’ll figure this out. You must remain focused and vigilant, especially now,” he mumbled.
“I’m trying, Dad. It’s so difficult to be doing this alone. I miss Mom.” I squeezed my eyes shut.
“I know you do. I can feel the pain in your heart. Do not feel alone, Elizabeth. You have a legion of adoring and loyal angels surrounding you.”
“Dad, I know they’re protecting me, but it’s not what I want or need right now. I need you and Mom and me to be a family again. Like we used to be.” I tightened my arms around him, never wanting to let him go, as my mind flooded with memories of home. Rousing snippets of my life that flashed before me.
“One day, we will be a family again. Only bigger, happier and for all eternity.” He smiled down at me, kissing the tip of my nose. “How are you feeling? Is the child well?” my father asked, holding me at arm’s length.
“Yes, the baby is fine. The doctor said the baby is healthy and has a strong heartbeat. I only wish Michael were here with me. Dad, do you know where he might be? No one seems to know what happened to Michael. I’m worried about him and I haven’t heard any news from Faith or the others,” I muttered, walking to the window.
“He’s fine, Elizabeth. Get dressed. We’ll talk some more in the garden,” he whispered, leaving the room.
I threw on a loose-fitting top, shorts and flip-flops after a quick shower. Standing before the mirror, I examined my new body. It seemed I had transitioned overnight into an adult, even though I was still a teenager in mind and body. My belly was as round and firm as a basketball. For a brief moment, I slipped my eyes shut when something behind me rustled. Abruptly, I snapped open my eyes and saw her reflection through the mirror. “Abby!” I yelled, turning toward her. We ran to one another and went in for a long embrace.
“Whoa! Look at your stomach! It’s huge, Beth!”
“I know. It’s growing by the hour.” I smiled at Abigail. The angel caressed my round belly.
“You sort of are growing . . . maybe not by the hour, but certainly by the day. Nephilims grow rapidly.” She gave a hesitant smile before looking away, pained by an obvious thought.
“Hey, Abby, what’s wrong?” I asked.
“Beth—” she hesitated. “I know—”
“Know what?”
“About the baby. I know it’s not Freddie’s,” she whispered lowering her eyes.
Taking a deep breath, I held Abigail’s hand. “Who told you?” I asked, breaking the silence and remembering my vision.
“Your father,” she replied.
“I’m sensing there’s something you want to tell me. Is that why you and my dad are both here, Abby?” I muttered nervously.
“I think you should speak to your dad in private. I’ll catch up with you later. Go, Phil’s waiting for you in the garden,” Abby said, squeezing my hand.
“Abs, please keep this between us. I couldn’t live with myself if Michael were to be punished for something I persuaded him to do.”
I stared out the window. My father was seated on the bench in the garden, his hands gesturing as if he were in deep conversation with someone. But no one was there except for him and Zeus.
Slowly I made my way over to the garden. “Dad?” I called out carefully not to startle him. I pulled him away from his thoughts as Zeus trotted over to me. Lifting the puppy, my dad followed the dog with his tired eyes, gently smiling and patting the empty space next to him. Without a word, I sat down beside him with Zeus on my lap.
“You’re carrying a boy, you know. The son of an archangel.” His kind eyes watched me as he held my hand in his.
“A boy? I had no idea. I always knew I’d have a son, but not like this. Michael will have a son . . .” I barely whispered as my thoughts focused on the reality of my infant.
“Yes, you and Michael will have a son.”
“Daddy, I know this isn’t the life you imagined for us, but are you happy for me? For us?” I asked stroking the dog, my mind lost in scenes of Michael and our son, playing ball and learning to swing a mighty sword. Images of our son, strong and powerful, like his father. My cheeks glowed and my lips unintentionally pulled back in an exalted smile as a breeze lapped lazily through my hair. The scent of vanilla filled my lungs.
Inhaling deeply, I focused on the glimmering light flickering before me. Immediately, I put the dog down on the ground. “Mom, you’ve come!” I heard my father gasp, quickly lifting his tired body to face her, his face and eyes struck by her beauty.
“Grace.” His lips trembled her name.
“Hello Philip. I’ve missed you,” Mom whispered back. Their eyes connected, as their energies erupted on contact. Instantaneously, we drew in a breath while a spiraling wind cocooned around us, binding us in its forceful grip. My mother’s hair, like my own, tossed wildly in the tunneling current.
“What is this?” I yelled through forceful winds. Neither parent responded. I felt only the clasps of their hands on mine.
We remained, holding hands, looking up into the tunnel that bound us spiritually. A brilliant blue light projected through the twister, humming a glorious mantra, similar to that at the Crystal Caverns. Gradually, the winds
calmed, showering the three of us with mists of silver brilliance until it eventually settled. Having left me breathless, the vision of the blue light shrouded me like honey; silky, soft, and sweet.
My parents did not utter a word. They only stared into each other’s eyes, speaking the universal language that required no spoken words. Their hands remained locked.
“Why didn’t you return, Philip? I waited so many years for you to come home.” She finally spoke, her voice held the threat of tears.
“I tried so many times. I was too scared and ashamed of what I’d done. How I’d acted. It was never my intention to leave you with such an enormous responsibility. It broke my heart time and time again. If I could only take it back. Do it over. If you’d only give me another chance to make it right for us. For our family . . . I’d—” My mother raised her finger to his quivering lips.
“Philip, I love you, and you did what was best for our daughter. Elizabeth didn’t need you then as much as she needs you now. She needs us both to be strong for her at this time. This is your mission, Phil. Now is the time to protect our daughter, and we will do it together. Our grandson’s birth will be trying for Elizabeth. It will drain her of everything she has and she’ll need us to be there when the boy is born. We mustn’t concern ourselves with the past now. Focus on what is happening.”
My father dropped to his knees, holding my mother’s hands to his lips, kissing them gently as he quietly wept. “I will not fail you again, my love. I am sorry. I love you, Grace—more than you’ll ever know.”
“I know you love me.” Mom smiled, caressed his cheek, and faded with the breeze.
My father remained on the ground for several minutes, pressing his hands over his eyes.