Guardian Angel

by Trebus, David

  What should he do? His heart told him to reveal himself but he still remembered the choir's verdict and the rules. But Claire already knew of him, and not through his own design, so revealing himself at this stage would not break any edicts. In any case the situation was exceptional and he very much wanted to help Michael.

  The war in his mind settled, Jazen took a deep breath and stood up next to the door. He bowed his head and let his wings spread. Pressing his hands together, Jazen gave voice to a song seldom sung by any Guardian: the song that would allow his charge to see him. The last time Jazen had heard of an angel using this song was in the time of the Grigori, before the rules became so strict.

  A bright light engulfed the room as the song reached its climax. Jazen emerged from the light, hoping he looked suitably impressive for Claire. Then, without warning, the light was gone, and before a very surprised Claire stood her Guardian, the angel Jazen, in all his glory and for once not at all sullen. He smiled at Claire, trying his best to make a good first impression.

  “Hello..,Claire,” was all he could manage.

  “Jazen…” Claire seemed equally lost for words. She never imagined her Guardian would be so attractive. In fact, Jazen's appearance was just like her perfect man. Slim, bright eyed, intense: she knew she was facing the man she had been waiting for. It was like some cheesy romance novel or mushy film but, for once, the thought didn’t make her feel ill.

  The thought brought her up short, though, as she remembered the man sitting across from her. Michael had made this possible. He had been the small force for change that had turned her life upside down, and now he needed her help. Romance and angel dating could wait until later. Gesturing for Jazen to sit next to her, Claire her attention on Michael.

  “So…now you’ve turned my life into a supernatural romance, what can I…we do to help you?”

  ***

  Michael couldn’t help but smile. The chemistry between the two radiating across the table, reminded him of the chemistry he and Jasmine had shared. Claire’s straightforward manner was charming, and he had no doubt if Jasmine had not come along he could been with Claire happily.

  “Well…that’s the bit I’m stuck on," he replied. "I don’t know what to do, I'm kind of playing this all as it comes right now."

  Claire glanced over at Jazen who met her eyes briefly then looked away, clearly unused to the attention. She looked back at Michael, tapping her finger against her bottom lip in thought.

  “Ok then, Michael." She said. "What do you want to do? Forget what you feel you can't do, what do you want to do?”

  “I want to bring Jasmine back.” Michael's instant reply brought a wide smile from Claire.

  “Well, now we know what you want to do, we just have to find a way to make it possible, don’t we?” Claire tapped Jazen on the shoulder and gave him an expectant look.

  “I hate to put a downer on this," said Jazen. "But all but I’m not sure there is any way we can help. There is no record of angels being turned back once they have fallen to darkness. The only way to stop the fallen is to banish them back to the Pit, or to destroy them utterly. I'm sorry, Michael.”

  “But what about on the Thames, Jazen, when Michael sung for that girl? Surely her angel was dark?”

  “That angel had not fallen. He was close, but his chains hadn’t dragged him down into darkness. Michael’s unique gift only saved him because it influenced the angel's charge and helped her heal, as well as him."

  “But you yourself said his gift is unique," Claire pointed out. "So how do you know it wouldn’t redeem a fallen angel?” Michael sat silent, letting Claire finish her chain of thought.

  “In truth, I don’t… It’s possible...but if it didn’t work.” Jazen was clearly unsure of himself.

  “It’s possible…” Michael murmured.

  “Huh?” Claire said.

  Michael ignored her, recalling again what Metatron had told him: that he had the power he needed to save Jasmine. Michael strained, to push through the fog of his depression and feeling of powerlessness. He remembered that little spark inside him that said “Never give up," trying to rekindle it into a fire.

  Then his mind ignited, and everything clicked into place. He knew what he had to do. Metatron had been right; he was exactly where he needed to be, and he had all the resources he required to save Jasmine. All he had to do was believe in himself and his own strength; he could and would save Jasmine, no matter what it took. Hope and self-confidence flooded back into Michael, as he turned to Claire and then at Jazen.

  “It’s possible,” Michael repeated.

  “How can you be so sure?” Jazen demanded.

  “Because I have faith in myself. I can do it, I can bring her back to me.”

  Claire grinned, “So how can we help, Michael?”

  “Help me get to her. Help me get down into Hell.”

  ***

  “You can't simply just walk into Hell. It’s not like the UK border.”

  “There must be a way, Jazen," Michael insisted. "If anyone knows, it would be you. You’re the only angel here."

  “Hell is a spiritual realm, for a start. Only your soul can manifest there; your body remains here on the physical plain. If you want the easiest way to get there, a life of sin and evil is a sure-fire way of gaining access, followed by death, of course. I seriously doubt you're capable of that, Michael.”

  Michael shook his head in frustration. Jazen was holding something back, probably to protect Claire and maybe even himself. But Michael was determined now. Nothing was going to stop him from getting to Jasmine and at least trying to save her. His whole life had been leading up to this moment, and even the fear that knotted deep in his gut only leant strength to his determination.

  Claire stood up abruptly and left the room without word. Michael looked on after her with a puzzled expression but didn’t have to wait long until she returned. Claire held an old book in her hands. The cover was cracked and the leather binding worn, but somehow it held together as if the book was determined to keep its form. Jazen gave a look of disgust when he saw it.

  “I’ve never been one for demonology or any dark magic stuff. But I found this book in a dusty corner of a charity shop in Cambridge a few years ago. It’s pretty dark reading, all dark ritual and demon summoning stuff, no idea why anyone would be stupid enough to try anything like that though." she sat down, looking pointedly at Jazen. “I must admit I have only ever looked over it a couple of times, but I swear I remember seeing a reference to gaining access to Hell."

  Jazen said nothing, but his expression spoke volumes. Michael leaned forward to get a better look, his expression hopeful at a possible way to get to Jasmine. Claire thumbed through the pages, then stopped, putting her thumb over an interesting passage. Red spots dotted the page, and Michael didn’t want to think what they were made of.

  “Ah, here we are. “A ritual to gain access to the infernal realm.” All it requires is that me and Michael," she read out deliberately, "shed blood while engaging in a carnal act within an unholy circle in a church. It should take us right into the center of hell without a problem.” Michael, thoroughly confused, was about to protest when Claire gave him a “shut up” look.

  “No!" Jazen yelled. "I will not allow it, damnit!” He put his hand over his mouth, realising his blasphemy. When he spoke again, he seemed defeated. “There is a way….”

  “Oh?" Claire raised an eyebrow, placing the book on the table. "What do we need to do?”

  “Through your dreams.”

  “Spit it out, Jazen," exclaimed Michael.

  “Sometimes, in exceptional cases, mortal souls have been brought on High through a special song. This is to guide them, for us to give them a message. Hell can do much the same, and the same principle applies to getting there. The song is sung while the mortal is asleep, temporarily separating the soul from the body to travel in dreams. However… I have never attempted to get to Hell before. I don’t think any Angel has; it would be…wait a m
oment.” Jazen looked down at the book on the table, his face turning white.

  The pages contained pictures of various erotic positions and poses, and the red spots were clearly ink that had run. Jazen’s face turned pale. Claire had tricked him into revealing what he knew. He pointed his finger at her, looking indignant.

  “I’m sorry, Jazen. We don’t have much time, and I had to trick you into telling us." She smiled warmly. "I know you're far too devoted to my safety to willingly tell me how to go to such a dangerous place. Please forgive me, but I am determined to help Michael, and I hope you will help me."

  “Please, help me get to Jasmine." Michael pleaded. "I will go alone. You and Claire don’t have to come, just help me get there."

  “Oh no you don’t." Claire jumped in before Jazen could speak. "I…. we're coming too. I’m not letting you go somewhere like that alone" She looked at Jazen determinedly, "and I’m certain Jazen won't let me go unescorted, either. Whether you like it or not, you're stuck with us. So get used to it, buster. You won't be fighting this battle on your own.”

  Jazen raised his hands, his expression defeated. “Fine! You two win. I'll help you. I owe Jasmine for all she has done for me in the past, and I suppose I owe you for finally letting me see Claire,”

  “So what do we do?” Asked Claire.

  “Clear the coffee table out of the way and lie down on the floor next to each other. But don’t get any ideas. I need to sit over you and have physical contact while I sing." Jazen helped Michael and Claire move the coffee table out of the way, before turning back to them. He swallowed nervously. "I’m going to take us to the elemental plane of fire, to Hell’s gate. It would be too dangerous to take us right in as they'd sense us instantly."

  "Heaven wouldn't be too happy if I delivered what Hell has been after ever since this stupidity started.”

  Michael and Claire lay down on the cleared space between the sofas. Claire’s breathing became erratic and Michael wondered if she was having another panic attack. He reached his hand over to hers and squeezed it, trying to reassure her.

  “How can you be so calm at a time like this?” Claire asked, her voice broken and on edge.

  “Because I know it will be ok." Michael was keeping his own fear tightly bottled up "I know we can do this.”

  “I need you both to close your eyes and try to relax now. "Jazen said, pressing his palms together." I'm going to send you both to sleep and then begin the song. If all goes to plan, when I ask you to open your eyes it will all be done.”

  “Light has embraced you

  Hope has empowered you

  Spirits will guide you

  Angels beckon you

  Beyond the mortal realm…”

  Jazen's voice was strong and resonant. He placed his hands on their foreheads and continued to sing, but the song became distant and fuzzy. The light of Jazen’s wings seeped through Michael's eyelids, he resisted the temptation to open them. Then the light's consistency changed to a red hue.

  Michael opened his eyes to find himself standing next to Claire and Jazen. They stood on the edge of a rocky cliff with a sea of fire stretching out before them. Molten lava and uncontrolled flames flowed and danced freely. In the distance, Michael caught sight of a huge red door wreathed in darkness. He knew instantly that was his destination. Straight into the gates of Hell.

  Chapter 10: Through the Gates of Hell

  Gabriel stood before Heaven's gate, looking over the white fields that stretched out before him. The fields weren’t really fields as Heaven, was a spiritual realm, but the perceptions of the viewer gave them form. The threat of storm clouds on the horizon, however, was very real and represented extreme danger, whatever perception one chose.

  He'd often stood on the battlements above Heaven’s gate, but only once before ready to defend them from the fallen. Usually he'd climb up and look out over the calm landscape, watching the many souls living in peace. The sight always relaxed him, when he allowed himself the emotional freedom.

  Today, though, he was anything but relaxed. Metatron had gone missing, and that idiot Guardian Jazen had tapped into the symphony and transported the mortal Michael right outside the gates of Hell. There would be a reckoning, if Jazen ever returned on High assuming his infatuation with his charge hadn't already made him fall from grace.

  Gabriel paced up and down the battlement over the gate, watching preparations being made. The weapons looked like crossbows and fortifications from a mortal perspective, but were spiritual defences and potently bound songs designed to slay and banish demons. He nodded to his fellow angels as they worked and stopped a couple of times to assist.

  As he bent down to assist with attaching a ward seal, he saw the soul of a small child staring up at him. He caught the little girl's scrutiny. She smiled at him and, before he could catch himself, he smiled back at her and managed a small wave.

  “They say one’s true nature is reflected in the souls of children.” A familiar voice spoke from behind.

  “Where in the seven planes have you been?” Gabriel turned to face Metatron.

  “I had to run an urgent errand. How are the preparations progressing?” Metatron too waved at the little girl.

  Gabriel grunted before replying. It wasn't hard to guess what the errand was.

  “The preparations progress well. We will be ready, should the worst come to pass and the symphony be corrupted. I'd have thought the Metatron would be at his post in such a time of crisis, not putting outlandish ideas in the minds of mortals.”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about." Metatron continued to humour the child below, by waving.

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Metatron." Gabriel warned. "I have known you for centuries. Your grasp of the rules has always been flexible. Our father allows you too much latitude."

  “I merely advise. Mortals possess free will, and make their own choices. As for Jazen, he was maneuvered into his position, he couldn't abandon his charge, after all. Leave his punishment to me, should he return.”

  Gabriel grunted in annoyance, and moved off down the battlement to help his comrades. Sometimes, he really envied Metatron’s outlook.

  ***

  Michael glanced at his two companions. Jazen looked worn, his wings fully manifest but glowing only faintly. A nimbus of light played around Claire's form, flickering white against the red backdrop. They both looked surprised, but clearly not at the change in scenery. They stared straight at him with confused faces.

  Michael looked around him, ducking and turning; expecting an attack any moment. A faint outline of wings loomed behind him. For a moment he squirmed, trying to escape the outlines behind him, until he realised they grew from his own back.

  “Wha?”

  “Well," said Jazen, his voice tired, "that explains why you can tap into the symphony. Seems like you have a little of the divine in you. We are seeing the manifestation of your soul here. It’s why we can see your wings, even if they are very faded.”

  “So..you're saying I’m part Angel?” Michael looked over his shoulder again, trying to make out the faint outline of his wings.

  “Something like that. Somewhere in your distant past. Angelic blood entered your line. It’s not going to be much use here, though in the plane of fire, we can barely tap into the symphony. When we enter Hell, we will be totally cut off from it. The only thing I can do is manifest my armour and weapon. Perhaps you can too, but I doubt it will be very strong.” Jazen Stooped to run black sand through his hands.

  “Well, well, well, I always knew you were a special one,” Claire remarked, turning away from the awful vista all around them.

  “Metatron did say…” Michael murmured to himself. He remembered his brief meeting with the Archangel.

  “Huh? Metatron?” Jazen's head bolted up to face Michael.

  “Oh, no, nothing. It’s all just a bit confusing…I mean, jeese,” Michael managed weakly. He had never been very good at lying. Jazen’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.


  “So, how do we get in….there?” Michael gestured to the red gate in the distance.

  “We cross the plains over the fire and slip through somehow. You ever see that film where the little men try to slip into that dark land? It’s not going to be that easy.”

  “Won't you be detected easily?" Claire Asked. "I mean being an angel?”

  “Cut off from the symphony, my presence is vastly reduced, and I can mask myself so I look like a human soul, at least for a while. The only way we're going to pull this off is if we enter Hell with one of the processions of the damned. Bind ourselves to their chains and shuffle in with the rest of the dark souls."

  “It seems like we have a plan, then,” Michael said, trying to move his apparitional wings.

  “We do, but those,” Jazen said, gesturing to Michaels faded wings, "could be a problem. They want you, Michael. and those are a big giveaway as to who you are. You need to suppress them, like I do mine.”

  “How do I go about doing that?”

  “It’s all down to willpower. concentrate on them and will them to be hidden. Focus all your energy on them and imagine them invisible. Then keep that thought in the back of your mind at all times. If you let it slip for more than a moment, they will begin to return.” Jazen paused. “Before I forget, manifesting armour and a flaming weapon is much the same. If we get into trouble, you should try it. It may save your soul.”

  “I'm beginning to feel rather mundane here, I must say,” Claire remarked.

  “Claire, you are anything but mundane. You are the most special...” Jazen was interrupted by Claire putting a finger over his mouth.

  “I was joking, Jazen. But thank you."

  “Two other things, before we set out," said Michael, unable to take his eyes off the red gate." Once I find and save Jasmine, how do we get out? And thank you both, I owe you so much."