Herald

by J Edwards Stone

  “You were given a very precious gift,” he said quietly. “You glimpsed the past. The promise of what was and what could be.” I stared at him, not understanding.

  “You saw Eden.”

  My heart stopped. I turned to him and saw him smiling at me peacefully. There was no other motivation, no demand for a message he knew I did not possess. At that moment, it was just us.

  I stared at him, trying to gauge his reaction to figure out what my own should be. I couldn’t. He looked up, that strange aura of power and serenity seeping through the darkness, enveloping me. My heart caught in my chest, and he turned back to me. His expression was so gentle, so unexpected. I smiled at him, feeling a quiet peace in knowing I believed him. I believed that I had seen a world without pain, a world of exquisite light and beauty. It somehow gave me new hope for the future.

  “Larin,” Michael said softly, breaking my reverie, “there is something I wish to say.” I looked at him curiously, noting the uncharacteristic furrow to his brow. I had assumed it to be related to my revelation, my discovery of the world he once knew and was torn from against his will. However, in watching the thoughts chase each other across his face, I knew this was something different. He stood up, giving me a hand. I took it, coming to stand just inches away from his face. I could smell the strange sweetness of his scent, the feel of his soft breath against my lips, and my own caught in my throat.

  “Today, in the training ground. I was unkind. More than that. I was boorish. My behavior was inexcusable, and I would beg your forgiveness.”

  Startled, I raised my eyebrows. “Michael, it’s. . . it’s fine.”

  “It is not,” he replied shortly, taking my hand and gently pulling back the sleeve of my robes, still muddied from the events of the day. His hand paused, hovering over my arm, and he looked to me with the question of permission in his eyes. I hesitated, then nodded. He traced a soft finger up my forearm, where the scars had all but disappeared in my transformation to vessel. I looked down at his hand, noting the finger touching one that remained, faded, but apparent. Reminders of my past, badges of dishonor I would carry for however long my new life may be. Maybe forever. Had it been anyone else, anyone else at all, I would have snatched back my arm. Years of self-preservation was so deeply instilled in me, it was difficult to let go. But Michael’s touch felt familiar, comforting. I didn’t understand it, but I didn’t want to question it. I sighed, lowering my head and letting him do as he would. “I know little of your human life, this is true. But what I do know is that you have suffered. I need you to know – to understand, Larin. I would never do anything to cause you pain or discomfort. I am a creature of deeply ingrained habits, of leading my people in ways that are direct and controlled. I attempted to bring out the soldier in you, but I did not take care to keep your discomfort in mind. Your emergence as Herald, your abilities are unprecedented. You have been through more in your transition than any vessel here, and you have only ever carried yourself with courage despite your fears. It is beyond admirable, and I have great confidence in your abilities. I will take greater care in bringing them out in the future.” He took the hand away, reaching up to my chin to lift my face so I could look into his eyes.

  “I beg your forgiveness. I will never push you as I did today. I truly care for you, Larin. I do not fully understand it, I admit. But I do.”

  “I forgive you, Michael,” I started, reaching up and taking his hand and lowering it from my face, feeling the softness of his palm with my thumb as I chose I words. I wanted to tell him of my past, but it was also something I wished to leave behind. “I have a history, yes. Maybe one day I’ll tell you about it. Men haven’t been kind to me in my life. I... appreciate your apology more than you know. I want to trust you.”

  Michael reached both arms upwards, coming to rest on my shoulders. He looked at me in a contemplative way, searching for something in my eyes.

  “The thought of anyone hurting you – of what you may have gone through in your life causes me great distress. If I could erase those pains somehow, I would do so.”

  “Michael,” I whispered when a look of confusion suddenly crossed his face, and he frowned. I continued to stare at him questioningly. I was about to speak, when he suddenly grasped me, kissing me.

  I was too shocked to move. He pulled away just as quickly as he had moved in, a flash of horror in his striking black eyes. My stomach clenched at the void created by our physical parting, and I could only blink at him in dismay. “Larin! I apologize, I should not have -” he started, but before he could finish his thought, I found myself pressing against his body, my fingers weaving themselves through his thick, soft hair. He froze, then wrapped his arms around my back, releasing a short breath as he gave himself over to the moment and kissed me back. I couldn’t believe my boldness, but I revelled in the feeling of his lips against mine, soft and yielding, and refused to imagine any possibility of it ending. Refused to imagine anything other than the taste of his lips against mine. We continued to kiss, and I felt restraint in the gentleness of his touch. I could also sense something else as his mouth searched mine - his doubt, but also his desire, and it was enough. I kissed him back, our lips matching perfectly, seemingly built to be pieces of the same puzzle. It was the most natural thing in the world, and I imagined myself to be melting, every piece of me giving in to whatever it was that was happening at this moment.

  He pulled back, frowning at me in uncertainty and searching my face to see if he should stop, and I shook my head.

  “Don’t,” I whispered, in warning. He smiled, a dazzling sight to my eyes, and leaned in to kiss me again.

  The moonlight continued its descent upon us, oblivious to the two beings caught up in the glade – wings of white, and wings of darkness, drawn tightly against each other, and I imagined for a moment. . .we were meant to be.

  Michael and I arrived back at the window, slipping into my room unnoticed.

  We walked forward inside, and I stopped at the bed, looking at it in abject exhaustion yet again. I had a different thought about the bed, suddenly, and looked shyly at Michael. I felt self-conscious. I had had minor dalliances with local boys growing up, looking for affection from those who would not provide it to me at home. The memory of those aching moments, the voids of loneliness, still tugged at my heart. I somehow always had the presence of mind to never let myself go too far, probably the result of my self-consciousness at my physical imperfections, not wanting them to discover the marks that marred my human body. Eventually, even the boys lost interest in whom they had presumed to be an easy target. I knew Michael was not the type to abuse my affections, and I felt I could give myself to him physically as easily as I had given him my heart. I wanted more at that moment and looked at Michael’s face as he watched the memories, and the sadness, play out on my face. He smiled at me gently, and I felt my body melt again, stealing a quick glance again at the bed. He grinned this time and cupped my face, and I knew from him expression that it was not the time for more. Michael started to walk away, holding my hand for as long as he could, and I left it outstretched until the tips of our fingers separated reluctantly. We were smiling at each other, and despite how tired I was, I felt such profound happiness that it radiated throughout every inch of my body. Michael seemed to echo the sentiment, something new in his eye I had never seen before glimmering gently. They had never looked so startlingly brilliant. I felt I could stare at them forever.

  I remembered the events in the meadow, but not even that fear and uncertainty could dampen my joy in the feeling Michael’s looks were eliciting inside me. We hadn’t lingered long in the glade, knowing others would have questions and soon discover our absence. With considerable reluctance and restraint, I agreed to go back when he told me it was time to leave.

  “Rest,” he said gently. “I will see to the Council and advise the others that there is nothing new to share. There will nonetheless be much joy in this confirmation of your status.”

  “But what will t
his mean?” I asked, sitting down slowly onto the bed. “What does a Herald even do? How will I. . .” I searched my mind for the right questions to ask, coming up blank.

  “We must first confirm the Guardians are no more,” Michael said, a dark look passing over his eyes. “It has been too dangerous to risk their exposure, should the rumor of their deaths have been a ruse to lure Azrael to them. But we cannot hold off for long. The answers may still be in their Sanctum, no matter their fate.”

  I swallowed and nodded, accepting what he said, though I still didn’t fully understand the implications of being the Herald. I imagined that I would have another vision at some point, or some other creature of magic or mystery would know what to do. I found myself shrugging internally, finding little surprised me anymore. I trusted Michael to find the answers, and that was enough.

  My heart sped up again at the memory of the glade, and I felt my cheeks flush hotly. Michael was watching my face, and he grinned.

  “Sleep now,” he whispered, turning to leave. Before he did, a thought occurred to him. He strode back to the bed where I sat, and leaned down, kissing me gently on the forehead. My entire body exploded at the sensation, and I reached up towards him, wanting more. He laughed, kissing my lips, and lowering my hands gently into my lap.

  “There will be time for us to see each other later,” he said. “For now, the others wait.”

  “Right,” I sighed, resisting the urge to beg him to stay. Aside from the fact that I just didn’t want him to physically separate from me, I also had many questions for him, but I tried to take comfort in knowing he would answer them all in time.

  He walked to the doorway, pausing at the threshold to flash me one of his brilliant smiles. I returned it, sinking down onto the bed and letting out a great breath. I thought again to the meadow, to the vision Michael was convinced had been one of Eden. I wondered if that were true, or if it were a figment of my imagination – a mental breakdown of some sort considering all the strenuous events and confusion of late. It didn’t explain my speaking in a strange, dead language though, and I found I believed what Michael had told me to be the truth. I had witnessed Eden. At least, I hoped it was. I wanted to imagine a place of such beauty could ever have existed, even if it was a thing of a past long before any but a precious few were left to remember it. Before I could think further on it, I fell into a deep sleep.

  The next day I woke up, smiling to myself, remembering again the expression on Michael’s face when he looked at me, the softness of his hands and they touched my face. I couldn’t wait to see him and leaped out of bed, walking to a bowl of water near the fireplace and splashing it on my cheeks rapidly, trying to hurry. I looked quickly at my image in the mirror as I dried myself, caught up suddenly in my expression. I can’t remember the last time I ever actually saw myself smile. Not in any mirror in my human life. It was such a strange thing to witness, and not at all unpleasant. It seemed something that completely transformed me, and my strange metallic eyes shone back at me. Even my hair seemed blonder, radiating brightly with health.

  I opened the door and stopped abruptly.

  On the floor lining the hall from my door towards the base of the staircase lay rows upon rows of freshly picked flowers, brilliant colors and shapes, smelling of spring. I followed the path with wide eyes, coming to rest at the end of the stairs. Raphael had been standing at the bottom, speaking to two guards. He caught my eye and smiled at me in his usual friendly way.

  “Gifts for the Herald, I suppose,” he said, and I looked down again at the flora left there for me to walk upon.

  “Can you. . .ask them not to do that?” I bit my lip, feeling uncomfortable. Raphael laughed and shook his head.

  “I suspect that would only dampen their spirits. The vessels here all needed an injection of hope, considering the dark days of late,” he said, and the smile left his face. I thought again to Gideon, and I nodded, understanding. I picked my way gingerly through the make-shift garden at my feet, and I noticed absently an awakening-call, having now gotten relatively used to them. Raphael nodded to the guards, who strode off. “Let us walk a moment,” he said, smiling again and putting his hands behind his back. I walked up to him and together we made our way down the hall to the war room.

  “It has been a very exciting few days, has it not?” Raphael asked.

  “Is that a rhetorical question?” I replied, knowing it was. He chuckled, shaking his head and looking forward again as we walked. We rounded a corner and nodded at a guard who eyed me as though I was about to perform some feat of great magic in front of him. I looked away uncomfortably.

  “There are still a great many things we must see to in the days to come, Larin,” Raphael said more severely this time. “You must be trained, as a start, to learn to defend yourself.” I frowned up at him quickly but saw the glimmer of good humor still in his eye, and I thought with some annoyance there were probably many people with the same amusement at the memory of me trying to fight off an archangel. Still, I knew there was truth to what he said. I nodded, conceding defeat.

  “I guess,” I said, though the thought made me gulp. Raphael patted my shoulder reassuringly.

  “I have no doubt you will take to it as you have done everything else.”

  I didn’t respond, and Raphael suddenly stopped. I also paused, looking up at him curiously. He was studying me with a serious expression now, and I found it made me uncomfortable. I looked away, feeling strangely as though I should be blushing.

  “About Michael,” he started, and then the blush came in earnest. I looked down, clearing my throat. I turned and started walking back down the hallway.

  “What about him?” I asked when he reached out a hand and stopped me. I turned around and looked back at him.

  “Michael is our leader, Larin,” he said. “He has always ruled since the Fall with an even hand and sound judgment. With grace. I fear he may have cause now to have his judgment. . .clouded.” I felt myself frown, and he continued hastily. “Do not mistake my words, as I wish only for my brother’s happiness. For the happiness of all my brothers. For your happiness,” he said, staring me unflinchingly in the eyes. I swallowed, and he continued. “But if ever there comes a time that whatever it is going on with you both. . .creates a reason for me to believe he cannot make the right decision when it really matters,” he paused, eyeing me seriously, “then I will ask you to consider the virtue of continuing your relationship. I believe that despite all of his years of experience on this earth, you may actually be the one to know when that time would come, to decide the right thing to do.”

  I stared at him, not knowing what to say. My first reaction was to be embarrassed, then angry. Then, I realized there was nothing unreasonable in anything he said. It was actually the most reasonable thing to say, and I understood it. He had a duty not only to his brother but to all of us. To all of humanity. The weight of that responsibility was enormous, and I respected him greatly. I nodded at him, looking down.

  “I understand Raphael, don’t worry,” I said quietly. He regarded me a moment longer, then nodded, satisfied.

  “Shall we go see what the others have gotten up to while we’ve been chatting?” he asked, his good humor back in force. I followed him, but I was lost in thought. I didn’t even notice when we had reached the doors to the war room. The guards opened them, and I blinked up in surprise to see we had reached our destination.

  We walked inside and saw the others standing around the table, discussing strategy and options. Michael stopped talking to Tristan and looked up at me, meeting my eyes and giving me a dazzling smile. I am pretty sure I could have melted into an actual puddle right there, and I heard Raphael clear his throat inconspicuously as he passed me. I blinked, ignoring Raphael and smiling at Michael, and then noticed the others around the table, staring at me. They all looked exhausted.

  I noticed a strain in Michael’s face I hadn’t seen before.

  “Have you guys been at this all night?” I asked, shocked. />
  “We require little rest,” said Uriel. He was eyeing me suspiciously still, though not with the same usual intensity.

  “So I’ve heard,” I replied, and Michael grinned at me. He left his place around the table, walking towards me and guiding me to the door. I thought he was going to leave with me, but he turned and beckoned Tristan, who walked forward. I frowned, wanting to be alone with Michael for a few moments.

  “We’ll speak later,” he whispered. In a louder voice, he said, “Tristan will take you to the training grounds. We are not finished discussing matters here, and there are still other matters in addition to recent. . .developments. . .” he said, searching for the right words, “that require our attention. We will call you soon, but we must focus on having you learn to defend yourself properly now.”

  Tristan had reached me, nodding his white head at me and giving me a respectful smile. I frowned internally but agreed and turned to leave.

  “Larin, a moment,” said Gabriel, and the others looked to him.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “Did you have any further visions? Any dreams? Is there anything more you can tell us at this time that. . .may be important?”

  I frowned, shaking my head no. Gabriel looked disappointed but managed a kind smile in my direction.