Guardian Angel

by Trebus, David

  Jasmine crouched down beside Michael, putting her hand on his shoulder to reassure him. “Is there anything you can do for them?” Michael asked her.

  “Leave usss be…..” the red eyed Guardian whispered before she could reply.

  “I...I don’t know. I can sing songs to heal, to help but it’s really only something I can do for you. The corruption that hurts her and her angel comes from within her. She’s given up hope; she feels she has nothing to live for any more.”

  “Try anyway; sing for her, for him…please?” Michael pretended to get change out of his pocket to keep Claire from getting impatient and coming over.

  Jasmine shut her eyes and stood up slowly. She tilted her head to the heavens. Her small wings manifested and spread out behind her, bathing Michael in light no other human could see and she sang softly.

  “When all hope is lost, when love is gone

  Sing with me, raise your voice

  When all is sad, when you're alone

  Be healed, rejoice, For hope is never lost.”

  The only effect was the woman’s Guardian starting to cry and singing the same song softly himself. The woman didn’t stir, the Guardian didn’t heal. Michael looked at Jasmine desperately, and she repeated the song again, seeming to feel the same sorrow he felt.

  Michael hummed the song out loud, oblivious to Claire as she walked towards them. He murmured the words, repeating what Jasmine was saying in a kind of duet. He even raised his head up to the sky, somehow imploring the powers on high to help this woman.

  A single sunbeam shone on them from the sky. A cloud had passed over the sun and through a small gap, one lone ray of light shone down directly onto the woman. It was like something from a movie, just as corny, but just as moving.

  The woman stirred in her sleep. Her Guardians wings began to glow, and his feathers returned to a lustrous white, although only a few new ones grew, leaving his wings still bare. The red faded from his eyes, replaced by a soft blue, and he looked up at Michael in amazement, tears streaming down his face.

  The woman awoke and rubbed her eyes. She looked at Michael in an odd way but didn’t recoil at the stranger sitting right next to her. She even smiled slightly.

  “I saw you in my dreams…,” she murmured, half asleep.

  Michael almost burst out laughing in joy, but contained himself.

  “Sorry to wake you up...Here, I just had some spare change for you.” Michael stood back up to give the woman some space.

  “Thank you,” she replied, her Guardian mirroring the words as she spoke them.

  Jasmine, Jazen and Claire all stared at Michael in wonderment. The Angels had seen what had just happened in all its glory, the restoration of a blighted soul. Claire also had seen the sunbeam and dimly perceived something special had happened. Michael tried to focus on Claire, knowing if he started speaking to Jasmine it would look like a crazy person.

  “Uh...sorry to keep you, just got talking,” he managed weakly.

  “What did you do?” Claire's eyes narrowed.

  “What do you mean? I just gave her some spare change.”

  “No, not that. Something's changed. What about that sunbeam? Don’t tell me nothing happened I even heard you humming, sounded almost like a spell.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I was just talking to the girl.” Michael tried to flannel Claire and get away from the topic. In reality he wasn’t even sure what he had done; he was just happy it had worked.

  Michael breathed a sigh of relief when Claire seemed to let the matter drop. He knew she suspected him, with the sun beam, her instincts, the spell or song, the girls comment and reaction. But he wasn’t going to tell her willingly and pressing him would be pointless.

  Michael gestured for Claire to carry on; they still had not found a bench or even had their drinks which were probably bordering on cold by now. She walked back to the path and they resumed their search. Jasmine and Jazen again fell into step behind them although, while Michael and Claire walked in an awkward silence Jasmine and Jazen were talking.

  “What happened back there?" Jazen demanded. "I don’t think I have ever seen a human do that before, use an angel’s song.”

  “I don’t know…He just sang with me and I could see and feel the woman's hope returning. It’s like he managed to shine a tiny light into her soul and bring her back from the brink. I mean…thinking about it, is that strange? Humans console each other all the time, use inspiring words, and comfort each other. That can have the same effect.”

  “Oh come on we both know it was nothing like that. The woman wasn’t even awake, and the effect was almost instant. Also, don’t tell me that wasn’t the divine light shining down in response to your song. The symphony heard and leant its strength to your…his pleas.” Michael overheard Jazen argue.

  “I really don’t know, Jazen; this is as surprising to me as it is to you. But...he can see us, he’s different to a normal human. Perhaps this is just part of that. He really is special you know, such a kind, loving soul.” Emotion crept into Jasmine's voice.

  “Now you're starting to sound like me…” Jazen replied causing Michael to hesitate for a moment. What did he mean by that?

  ***

  The Symphony heard the human's song. His gentle voice lifted up borne on his Angel’s wings and joined the great chorus. Metatron heard the change instantly and smiled, a small luxury he allowed himself on occasion. Jasmine and Michael really had been destined for each other since Michael had been born. There was to be another angel assigned to the new born but Metatron had been told to intercede and assign Jasmine for reasons at the time even he didn’t fathom.

  Those reasons now became clear to him, hearing for the first time in decades a human's voice born aloft to join the angels and seeing how strong that it could be. A song that could bring hope, and could heal, probably the most powerful gift anyone on Earth had. It was worth more than fame, than riches, more than career. The simple gift to change people's souls for the better.

  Metatron knew, however, that the gift would attract the attentions of others; the infernal too, would have noticed what just happened. Michael had been of interest to them before, especially to Garamond, the Beast’s hand on Earth. Now he would be a threat to them. When Metatron had asked this question on high and asked what he should do, the reply has been two words.

  “Have Faith.”

  ***

  “This human is more powerful than we had imagined. We must turn him to our cause.” A dark voice spoke from a pool of utter darkness suspended on a wall. The chamber was dimly lit with gothic-style sconces whose flames burned a dull purple. Even this light however could not permeate the dark rippling pool where the voice had come from.

  “I have put things into motion that will corrupt the mortal my lord; we will have him join us.” Garamond despised kneeling to anyone. To this being, however he had no choice.

  “See that he is. Failure on this issue will make me most displeased, Garamond. If you cannot turn him, then you must dispose of him. A mere human cannot be allowed to disrupt the flow of my legions.” The dark voice boomed with malevolent force causing Garamond to wince.

  “Yes my lord,” Cowed by the sheer power of his master, Garamond even felt a thrill of fear run through him, shaking his tattered wings. He relished the sensation for a moment letting it fuel his malice and determination to grow in power.

  The dark pool faded, ripples vanishing to leave a mirror. Garamond looked up at his reflection, standing slowly from his prostrate position. His reflection stared back at him with fierce red eyes. He shifted his featherless wings hearing their bones creaking. He stood up straight and walked towards his own Earthly throne room, he hesitated at the doorway still enraptured by his demonic reflection. His legs ended in large, obsidian hooves, which stamped as he moved.

  Garamond looked upon himself and smiled- he was a Prince of Hell. He had gained dominion over the Pit’s works on Earth so long ago in mortal terms, yet to him it felt like yesterday.
He still remembered his fall from grace, his corruption by mortal soul, but in truth before that he had always wished he had joined the rebellion in heaven. One day soon he would rebel again; it was in his very nature. Why would anyone settle for prince, when they could be King?

  The mortal, Michael, presented a golden opportunity to realise that ambition. With his abilities, the souls of weak mortals would be his for the taking, along with their angelic guardians. The army he could build would be enough to besiege the gates of Hell itself before moving on to destroy the heavens.

  Garamond was lost in thought staring at his reflection and imagining all the possibilities that lay in front of him. All he had to do was gain sway over one small mortal. The thought amused him, for all the power they had, one single mortal could still make all the difference.

  He stretched out large dark wings and stood to his full height. He continued to revel in the possibilities of future glories and his ascension to the infernal throne. He could picture himself sitting on that throne of dark iron surrounded by lava, succubi at his feet performing base acts for his pleasure.

  “Soon!” Garamond hissed.

  ***

  Michael and Claire finally found somewhere to sit; they had ended up drinking their coffee and eating their snacks on route to avoid them growing cold. They sat on a graffiti covered bench by the old British Warship HMS Belfast, a London tourist attraction. The sight of the ship brought back memories of his trips into London as a child with his father. Michael couldn’t help but smile looking at it.

  Michael remembered being so excited about setting foot on the ship, seeing the big guns, being on the water. He also remembered getting very scared when his father took him into the lower decks of the ship. He had cried and wanted to go back up, scared to be so deep in such a confined space. He had felt soothed after seeing a young girl. He wondered if it had been Jasmine? The souvenir shop and an ice cream back on top had cured him of any remaining fear.

  Claire looked the old ship up and down, seeming to Michael like she wanted to say something, but was hesitating. Jazen and Jasmine stood by the grass verge a few metres away paying little interest to the ship, it being just another monument to humanities desire to cause harm. They continued to talk softly just out of Michael's earshot.

  “It’s a nice view isn’t it? My father brought me here as a kid” Michael followed Claire's gaze.

  “I suppose. I can't say I ever visited it. Big guns and grey metal never really did it for me, I was more of a Barbie girl as a kid.” Claire spoke coolly, brushing a strand of blonde hair from her face.

  “I loved all that stuff, which I suppose is kind of normal, being a bloke and all. I always wanted to join the RAF, become a hero. Never thought I would turn out working in some publishing firm and seeing…” Michael stopped himself short and swore at himself in his mind for almost letting slip. He was so used to discussing the issue with Jasmine, now he saw it as normal conversation.

  “Seeing what?” Claire asked her eyes narrowing into accusing slits.

  “Uh... Seeing sights like this instead of working on them,” Michael managed awkwardly.

  “Uhhmm…ok then” Claire shrugged, looking at the grass.

  The awkwardness broken a little Claire leaned forward. She shifted in her seat, biting her lip and feeling the nerves creep up on her. She pushed them down with sheer willpower, refusing to allow any anxiety to take hold. In reality, the fear that she'd lose control was what made Claire seem so cold to others.

  “About my dream Michael... I know people think I’m a little weird, it’s just the way I am…” Claire hesitated.

  “But I honestly had a dream about your accident, Michael; it’s not just coincidence or me being odd. I saw you getting hit by that car and some…force, something else behind it guiding the car that hit you. But I also saw a woman with wings standing over you, and I knew you would be ok. I know we aren't exactly close, but I was still really worried about you." They sat in silence. "Blah I'm rambling,” Claire said after a while.

  “First, ok, I admit you do come off a bit strange sometimes Claire." Michael strained to think of a way to respond.

  "But you’re a cool person, and I have always enjoyed working with you. As for your dream, well, I don’t know what to say other than I believe you.”

  “Really? Even the blonde woman with wings bit? I mean, most people don’t believe in angels and all that. Everyone these days seems to at least be pose atheist.”

  “Even that bit. The accident…well, it kind of changed my perspective on a lot of things, including angels. So don’t worry, I believe you. The last few days have been a bit of an eye-opener for me, just hope things calm down a bit.” Michael hazarded a glance at Jasmine, who grinned broadly and waved like a Japanese tourist.

  Claire narrowed her eyes. What had Michael had meant by “change of perspective.” Something about the way he had said it meant more than simply being involved in a bad accident and gaining a new lease on life. When Claire had first met him he'd seemed fairly mundane. Slightly above-average looks, fair sense of humour but just...normal. Now that perception of him was being blown out the water. The guy was surrounded by mystery.

  ***

  Jazen sat next to Jasmine on the grass. Just like Claire, he narrowed his eyes at Michael, and Jasmine could tell it was because of Claire’s growing interest in him. She put her hand on his shoulder to reassure him.

  “You know, it’s just because she's interested in all the mystery around him, Jazen, so don’t get worked up.” Jasmine suppressed a tiny pang of her own feelings as she watched Michael and Claire talk.

  “Anyway even if she decided to date someone it’s not your business to interfere." Jasmine went on looking directly at Jazen. "You’re her Guardian and not her lover; you could even end up hurting her. That’s why there's so many strict rules for us, that’s why we always have to keep most of our feelings suppressed.”

  “I know Jasmine!" Jazen raised his voice.

  "I had the lecture from the Choir, thank you...I just can't help it, I really…am devoted to my duties. I will try to abide by the Choir’s wishes, but I will always stick by her side, Jasmine. And my feelings help me help her not hinder, if only those on high realised it."

  “I think they do, but we are also here to help them, not to follow our own selfish needs. We are angels, we don’t enjoy the same freedoms humans do. It’s not the purpose for which we were made. We are here to serve and protect. Our love comes from the lord and the great symphony.” Jasmine felt her conviction wane slightly as she talked. In some ways she was starting to feel like Jazen; she was just better at hiding it.

  “Whatever, Jasmine. I doubt we will ever agree on this one. Don’t you ever feel jealous when your charge is with other women?”

  The question caught Jasmine off guard. In the past, she would have replied with a very quick denial. Jasmine had watched over Michael while he'd been with girlfriends, although she'd always left the room during intimacy. It was only decent, after all. But now, when she thought of the prospect, she wasn’t so sure she would feel the same.

  “No,” Jasmine replied, after a pause.

  “Fair enough,” he replied. Jasmine saw that Jazen knew he had hit a raw nerve, from her reaction.

  Jasmine tried again to suppress her emotions. She felt no jealousy about Claire. She knew Michael’s type well enough and Claire definitely was not it. But Jazen had tapped a part of her she had not even known had existed until today. It might not have even been there until recently. The thought of Michael with someone else troubled her now and being troubled by it, disturbed Jasmine even more.

  Jasmine sighed and thought of Metatron again; his letter, his advice that she should take note of the lesson that Jazen represented. Maybe somehow he knew what was happening, what was going to happen with her and Michael. She stood up and stretched. Things would be ok as long as she had faith in herself and her charge. She should just focus on being there for him and everything else would fall i
nto place. She watched Michael from where she stood, Jazen still sitting on the ground next to her. He seemed to be awkward.

  ***

  “So." Claire decided to cut through the treacle. "Would you like to meet up again sometime to talk more as I have to be leaving soon, perhaps for dinner?”

  “Uh…uh yeah, I suppose so. I mean I’m still off work for another couple of weeks, so I should have plenty of free time. When were you thinking?”

  Claire put on mock-pouting expression. “You suppose? Charming.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that." Michael stammered out quickly. "you just caught me by surprise with that one.”

  Claire laughed "That’s more the Michael I know. I was thinking Friday this week. Unlike you, I only have today off. Some of us have work."

  “Yeah, should be fine. I don’t have anything planned. What time and where?”

  “How about round mine? I'll email you my address and directions. It isn’t a long walk from the station and I could meet you there if you like. At around seven?” Claire replied shifting her position. She was exposing her cleavage again, it might be deliberate but he couldn’t be sure. She was so calculating.

  “Ok then, sounds fine." It occurred to Michael that it had been ages since he had last got a train. "Uh...do you know when the last train is?"

  “Not a problem. If you end up round mine until late, you can just sleep on the sofa and get back in the morning,” Jazen’s ears pricked up from behind and he pulled a sulky expression.

  Was Claire really coming onto him? Or was it just his imagination?. He had that sense from women before and been way off, though. Perhapse she was just trying to pry into his special circumstances. While he found Claire physically attractive, for some reason the thought of intimacy with her wasn’t quite as exciting as he imagined. Everytime he thought about it, like any young healthy male, he couldn’t help but wonder how Jasmine would react. It was an odd feeling.