Lacrimosa (Requiem Series)

by Fonseca, Christine

I tuck my concern behind my warrior’s façade and hide every emotion.

  Time to face my fate.

  The chamber itself is large, adorned with pictures of angels—Mediators, Anointed, Guardians, Sentinals. Every painting is depicted in amazing detail. They shimmer, giving the illusion of movement.

  A lone golden chair sits in the center of the room. It faces a large alter with four majestic thrones. And in the thrones, the four I am most terrified to see. Gabriel, Raphael, Sariel, and Mikayel. The Council Elders. They rise as I enter the chamber, cold and detached. All except for Mikayel, whose anger is almost palpable. He glares at me, slicing through my mask and into my soul. There is little I will be able to hide from him.

  Blazes.

  “Good, you’re here,” Gabriel says, directing me to sit.

  “I came as soon as Raphael requested.”

  “But the question is why didn’t you come earlier? Why did I have to send someone for you?” Mikayel frowns, his voice hard.

  “I don’t think I understand.”

  “Then I’ll clarify.” Mikayel looms in front of me. “Why haven’t you reported? Why does your assignment remain unfinished? And why didn’t you report your encounter with the Dark One?”

  I clench my jaw and force myself to focus. “You know about Azzaziel?”

  “Of course I know,” Mikayel bellows “The point is you should have been the one to tell me.”

  Guilt covers me. I hate seeing my master so enraged, hate knowing I’m the reason for it. “I just thought—” The words die on my tongue. How could I possibly explain this away?

  Gabriel stands, placing a hand on Mikayel. “I think what concerns us, Nesayiel, is that you have never once broken protocol.”

  I feel Gabriel push into my thoughts. Feel them all enter my mind. I can’t resist. I must grant them access or face their wrath.

  “When you failed to report Azzaziel’s presence, failed to secure the UnHoly on two separate occasions, we became...concerned.” Gabriel waits for me to respond. His gentle, relentless eyes lock with mine.

  The Council examines my thoughts, searches my feelings.

  My heart beats once, twice, three times before my mind becomes my own. I wait, breath held, for someone to say something. Anything. Some hint that my weakness, my shame, remains undiscovered.

  “Perhaps it is best to send another team back with you.” Sariel looks to Mikayel.

  They know.

  “What do you think, brother?” Gabriel stares through me. “Shall we send another team? Just to make sure she can handle this.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” I choke on my own words. Of course it’s necessary. I’m broken. “I can handle the UnHoly. I will finish this. I just need another chance.” I’ve never failed. And I refuse to start now. I won’t admit defeat. Not to the likes of that UnHoly.

  Mikayel examines me with his gaze, questioning my abilities. “Two humans have died since you arrived. Not exactly confidence-inspiring.”

  Raphael stands and joins Mikayel, both of them glowering at me. Nothing like being scrutinized.

  “You’re ability to vanquish Aydan is not in question, Nesayiel. But with Azzaziel now part of the equation, additional help would be most prudent, would it not?” Raphael looks at my now-healed scar. “Especially given Aydan’s ability to find your weakness.”

  “What weakness?” I don’t have any weaknesses. That is, if you ignore the whole I-can’t-control-my-feelings-around-Aydan thing.

  “With your armor. Did he not burn your skin with his sword?” Raphael already knows the answer.

  “He did.”

  “Then he has somehow figured out how to evade your defenses. Perhaps a second team would—”

  “Would not understand him as I do.” The words pour out of my mouth too fast. “I know how he fights. I know how to beat him, armor-penetrating sword or not.”

  “And Azzaziel? What will you do if he discovers your presence? Engage him? Prove yourself by trying to defeat him?” Gabriel’s questions sear me with their truth.

  I hate it when he does that.

  I stare at the floor, my silence screaming every word I can not bear to say.

  “You have three days. No more.” Mikayel stands next to me. “If Zanethios has not reported that you have completed your task, I will come myself. Regardless of the reasons for your failure. Do you understand?”

  Mikayel’s threat steals the air from my lungs. He never comes unless an angel has committed a crime.

  “Yes, Sir,” I manage to say.

  “As for Azzaziel, you cannot defeat him. He is not your target. You are to track his movements only. Keep your true identity hidden from him. Once he knows what you are, he will try to persuade you to join him. Azza has been known to be very persuasive in the past. You can not risk falling to his words.” Mikayel’s expression relaxes and his voice lowers.

  “Report in often. Let me deal with the Dark One. Not you. Am I clear?” His voice cracks.

  “Yes, Sir.” I ignore my swirling emotions—fear, anguish, and shame—and leave the chamber, suffocating under the weight of Mikayel’s words.

  And his expectations.

  “So, do they know?” Cass whispers.

  “They suspect.”

  “Are you sure?” she asks.

  “Yes. Mikayel said if I didn't finish this in three days, he would come himself.”

  “That’s not good.” Zane's voice is barely audible.

  “I know.”

  “So, what are you going to do?” Zane asks

  “My job.” I ball my hands into fists, desperate to leave the shrinking chamber.

  “But can you?” Cass asks. Her words sound more like an accusation than a question.

  “I’m not willing to risk everything because of my stupid emotions, human or angelic. I learned to control these feelings once, I just have to do it again. A Sentinal never gives in to feelings. Not ever.”

  “Cassiel and Zanethios, please come in now.” Gabriel’s request holds none of the malice of Mikayel’s demand. They are obviously not in trouble.

  “But you are no ordinary angel.” Cass whispers as she starts through the doors.

  “I am what I’ve trained to be—a Sentinal.”

  Chapter 16 – Answers Revealed

  Nesy

  I walk to the libraries of Celestium, my mind full of Mikayel’s threat and my failures. I have to find a way to finish this. I won’t disappoint my master, not after everything he’s done for me.

  The archives are housed in a remote chamber, far away from the Council. I walk to the center of the small space flanked with private nooks. It looks empty. Perfect. I doubt my brethren would understand my need to know what happened so many centuries ago.

  “Harahel, I know you’re here. You’re always here.” I wait for a response, wondering where the archivist could have gone. Harahel is the master of the libraries of Celestium. If there is anything to discover about Aydan, this is the place to find it. I pace across the floor, begging the documents to materialize in front of me. A pointless act. Only Harahel has the key. There is no way to gain access without his approval.

  I just hope he’ll grant it.

  I call for Harahel again, my confidence waning as the moments continue to click by. Mikayel’s words trickle through my thoughts again.

  Three more days. Finish this or I will come and do it myself…

  Mikayel never makes idle threats. If I fail again, I’ll be the one going to the Abyss.

  Not going to happen.

  I picture Aydan; see myself vanquish him as he burns in the eternal flames. The images tear through my heart and cripple me. Waves of nausea buffet against my body and my legs tremble. I grab the corner of the lone counter in front of me. Relax. Breathe. I attempt to start my breathing mantra, but it’s no use. Something about Aydan prevents me from doing what I must. Even thinking about hurting him fills me with an uninvited pain, as if I will die too.

  I have to understand why. Now.
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  “Harahel,” I call again. “I need you.” My voice echoes through the empty chamber. The ground begins to shake, rattling the few adornments on the walls. Navy blue light floods the dark room.

  Finally.

  The azure light coalesces in front of me. Harahel steps forward and tips his head slightly. He’s tall, like most of the angels in Celestium. His deep set eyes match the navy color of his robes. His hair hangs in a wavy mass of dark brown around his shoulders. He looks far younger than he should, considering his existence predates that of the Council.

  I nod, ready to make my request. “I’ve come—”

  “I know why you are here. You seek answers about the UnHoly. My question is why, Sentinal? Mikayel has not sent you. He does not know of your presence here.”

  “No, he doesn’t. But there is something I need to see about Aydan’s fall.”

  “Is it not enough to know that he fell? Why must you know how?”

  “It isn’t how I am searching for. It’s why.”

  I watch as the archivist considers my request and nods again. “Knowledge is something to be pursued by all, not hidden away in some dark recess. I am proud that a Sentinal has figured out the need for examination of the past, when deciding how to proceed in the future. I will get the information you want.”

  He leaves and returns in the time it takes one human heart beat to pass, carrying nothing but a single piece of parchment. “Take this,” he says as he hands it to me. “It will tell you everything.”

  “It’s blank.” I turn the paper over in my hands. “How do I read it?”

  “The path to knowledge begins with a question. I suggest you start there. You may use the alcoves for your contemplation.” Harahel waves a hand and a blue light directs me to the corner of the room. “Return the parchment when you have discovered what you need.”

  “I will,” I say.

  I go to the alcove and sit, staring at the blank scroll. My hand trembles. Can I do this? Do I really want to know everything? I think about Aydan. About Lori. My instincts tell me who they are. What if I’m right? What if everything I’ve worked so hard to forget is the key to finishing this? Am I really ready to confront my past?

  The questions bounce in and out of my thoughts as my wings flutter nervously behind me. I draw a deep breath and pull on my strength as a Sentinal—what’s left of it.

  I have to do this. There is no other way.

  Harahel’s words ring through me. The path to knowledge begins with a question. I consider the myriad of queries continuing to bombard my thoughts and settle on one.

  Why did you fall?

  The question caresses my thoughts. I whisper the words, wondering why it really matters, what I’m hoping to discover.

  My heart beats too fast as the parchment comes to life. Images blend into the fibers and move like a projection on a screen. Pictures of Aydan. The Council.

  His fall.

  Aydan tumbles onto the floor of the chamber as Mikayel releases him. “Stay,” Mikayel barks, his sword pointed at Aydan’s chest. “I will deal with you later.” He sheaths his sword and fades into the air. Aydan stands facing the empty Council table. His body glows with an almost translucent light that fills the room. His wings unfurl behind him.

  I can’t trust what I’m seeing. Aydan. So beautiful. So different from the Beast I saw tonight. The Beast I almost killed.

  My body begins to tremble as the images swirl and change.

  “Aydan, do you know why you are here?” Gabriel’s voice holds no malice.

  “Yes, Sir. I have broken my vows and I must atone.”

  “That is correct. Let us start with the demon. The werewolf you hunted.” Gabriel studies Aydan carefully.

  “Peeter Stubbe. He was working at the Dark One’s bidding.” Aydan’s voice quivers when he speaks.

  “Azzaziel?” asks Sariel. “Are you sure?”

  “He is,” Mikayel responds. “Azzaziel was present when I retrieved the angel.” Disgust fills every syllable.

  “And yet, you did not report his presence to this Council. Why?” Raphael’s eyes fixate on Aydan.

  “I was...overcome, Sirs.”

  The Council pauses, considering his words.

  Several moments pass in desperate silence. Finally, Sariel speaks, his tone controlled. Dangerous. “So, you loved a mortal? A young farm girl? Despite the vows you took?” Aydan says nothing. “And you love her still?” Sariel asks.

  The words bounce around the great hall.

  “And you sought vengeance for her death. Killed those you were meant to protect.” Mikayel spits every word. “These are your actions, yes?”

  Aydan looks down, stoic.

  “You understand what you have done, do you not?” Gabriel’s voice still holds no malice.

  Aydan’s continued silence echoes the confession the Council demands.

  “Speak!” Mikayel’s voice booms.

  Aydan says nothing.

  Nothing of his feelings for the mortal.

  Nothing of the shame carved on his face.

  Nothing of the rage still blazing through his eyes.

  “So that is it then? You will say nothing on your behalf? No explanations for your deeds?” Raphael stares at the young angel.

  “Aydan. Since you have chosen silence, you give us little choice. You will go to the antechamber and await our decision.” Gabriel motions to the Sentinals guarding the large doors of the chamber. They take their positions next to Aydan.

  Mikayel stands, his expression hard. “Why are we waiting?” he asks, his voice unyielding. “The rules are clear. He should be cast out.”

  “Everything is very precise with you now, Mikayel. So different from before. Life is seldom that simple. It never has been, especially when we intertwine ourselves with humanity.” Gabriel looks at his brother angel, his face wearing the same peace that fills his voice.

  “But the rules—”

  “Are not as absolute as you wish them to be. Something you know better than most.” Gabriel’s voice matches Mikayel's intensity. “Aydan, leave us. We will have our decision soon.”

  The images fade as the parchment goes blank.

  “No, there has to be more.” I whisper. I still don’t understand. I quiet my mind and form a new question. The real question. The one that’s haunted me for the past two days.

  Are you Adam?

  The empty canvas in my hand responds immediately as colors wash over the beige vellum.

  Images of my sister, so much like Lori. My time with Adam. Intimate moments that still leave me breathless.

  A life I vowed to forget. Forever.

  “Don’t go with him. Please. Just forget you ever met him.” My sister grabs my dress, her ghostly green eyes begging me to listen. Auburn hair drapes over her shoulders.

  “I thought you liked Adam. He likes you.” I pry her fingers away.

  “But, he’ll take you away. He will. He’ll take you someplace I can’t follow. He isn’t like me…like us.”

  “Lorelei, you’re just being silly. I’m not going anywhere. Adam and I will get married one day. And we won’t move away. You’ll see.” I take her trembling hands into mine. “Now, you have to let me go and see him. I promised.”

  “I’ll tell Papa everything. I will. He won’t let you marry a farm hand.”

  I drop her hands and walk away, ignoring the pleas of my sister.

  The images speed forward.

  Lorelei’s betrayal as she tells Papa everything…How could you?

  My screams as the wolf attacks…Thank you for saving me, Mikayel.

  And Adam.

  His body encased in flames.

  I stand, desperate to escape the truth in my hands. Trembling, I stifle the scream rising up my throat. The sound of my pounding heart floods my ears.

  I watch the fire consume Adam’s body, hear his screams as he dies.

  The pictures stream faster and faster.

  Azzaziel. The Sentinals. A battle.

&nb
sp; And Mikayel, ripping an angel from my beloved Adam before he dies. An angel with amber eyes and translucent skin that shimmers.

  Aydan.

  “No!” I cry, my voice nothing more than a whisper. Tears flood my eyes and spill over my cheeks, dampening the still streaming movie in my hands.

  Aydan paces across the Council floor, waiting. “I’m sorry, Elle. I should’ve have prevented this. All of it.” His voice cracks.

  “You should not feel shame for your actions,” a voice calls out.

  “Azzaziel?”

  “You were only avenging the death of your beloved. A noble cause. Why should you be punished for an act of justice?”

  “You can’t be here,” Aydan hisses.

  “And yet, I am.”

  “I would rather die at Mikayel’s hands than join you.”

  “After what they are doing to you? This sham of a trial? And for what? Because you dared to love another? Seems quite hypocritical to me. Why don't you ask Mikayel to tell you about his true feelings on angelic love?”

  “Go away, Azzaziel. I’ll never join you.”

  “You cannot undo your vow to me. I am looking forward to training you, young Aydan.”

  The Council chamber grows silent save the sound of Aydan’s footsteps as he continues to pace like a caged animal with no escape.

  Moments click by. Aydan’s expression hardens with each step.

  I can feel his rage through the pictures. Taste the bitter acid of his emotions as they coat my tongue. Torment digs into his features and I fear what comes next.

  Aydan bursts through the heavy chamber doors. “I will not stay here while you wrestle with my fate. Release me to the Abyss—it is my wish. I do not regret what I’ve done. Not any of it. And I would do it again. So, let the flames burn me for an eternity. It makes no difference to me.”