Herald

by J Edwards Stone

  It had been after nightfall when the business of the day was over and a great assembly had been held. I could hear the cheers from my room, the joy at the safe return of the Herald and the acknowledgement I would recover from my injuries. I couldn’t hear what they had said, but I knew when they discussed the fact that the Guardians had been confirmed dead, as there were shouts of vessels seeking answers to questions the Council could not answer. Everyone had been told to continue about their business, to keep collecting the newly awakened, and to be extra vigilant. The same spiel as before, and I knew there was an aura of unrest despite the joy knowing that a victory had been won in my return – that Azrael had faced a very significant defeat.

  I had been sitting up in bed, reading a book from the stacks Michael had retrieved for me from the library. This one, like the others, discussed the history of an ancient civilization. Most, though not all had varying accounts of angel lore, and the roles they had played in times of great strife, and times of great bounty. It was all fascinating, and I combed over the details hungrily. I discussed much of what I read with Michael, trying to help him come up with ideas he could take to the Council. There were tools of magic that often came into play in the stories, and I wondered how many were myth and legend as opposed to fact. Some of it seemed to have its basis in truth, and some of it was lost to the ages. Michael and I would discuss everything as long as I had the endurance to do so, the scholar in him eager to teach me what he knew as much as simply enjoying the time we spent together. This night, he had been content to sit by the fireside, reading a book himself as I sat in bed. Simply being in each other’s company was enough, and often we didn’t need to speak to enjoy our time together. I looked up as Uriel entered the room, expecting him to be there on some council business. Michael closed his book and stood up.

  “Brother,” said Michael, switching to archangel. “What news?”

  “I. . .I wish to have a moment with Larin, if I may,” he said quietly, looking to Michael for permission. Michael looked at him in surprise, then smiled gently at his brother. There was some new understanding between them, and I wondered what had happened in my absence. Michael walked forward to Uriel, putting a hand on his shoulder and nodding. He turned to me and gave me a reassuring smile.

  “I will return shortly, my love,” he said, and I was reminded of childhood cartoons where the character’s socks rolled up and down when particularly lovestruck. I blushed happily, but coughed, aware of Uriel’s eyes upon me. I expected him to look angry, as he had when he had first witnessed the two of us together in the hall – when he had first learned that Michael’s interest in me was more than professional. Uriel merely looked at me benignly. Michael walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Uriel turned towards the fireplace, picking up a book from the chair that Michael had been reading, and turning it over in his hands. His white wings hung low in a sign of ease, and I felt myself relax, knowing I was not about to be chastised for becoming the object of his beloved brother’s affection at that moment. Uriel turned back his face still impassible.

  “Larin,” he had started, “I am going to be brief, as I know you require your rest. I wish merely to apologize to you,” he said, looking up at me. I looked back at him in surprise, saying nothing and allowing him to finish.

  “I was unkind to you. It was unfair and undeserved. Whether I believe you to be the Herald or not, my hostility towards you was unjustified.”

  “Uriel, it’s okay,” I said, “I understand. Trust me, it’s still a lot for me to process and accept. I don’t know what I believe either. I know you’ve been doing. . .what you’ve been doing for a long time. It hasn’t been easy, I totally get it.”

  Uriel regarded me silently, and a moment passed before he spoke.

  “Perhaps I should rephrase. I do believe you are the Herald,” he said, and my mouth dropped open in shock. I wasn’t expecting that. “And I believe you are here to help us find our fallen kin. My actions were unacceptable, my treatment of you. I wish for you to understand something. . .” I saw him searching his mind for a way to explain. “There have been times when I have given over to my despair. When we were first cast here from the Celestial Kingdom, I would have done anything. . .anything to restore us. I was very angry for a long time. I truly believed our Father was punishing us for Lucifer and Azrael’s betrayal. That perhaps he believed we ought to have done something more to stop them.”

  Uriel walked towards the bed and sat down on the end, arranging his wings absently behind him as he did so. I remarked at their perfection, the same beauty I saw every time I looked at Michael. Uriel looked at me and managed a smile.

  “I have many questions without answers. I have learned to live with most. But when you arrived, it caused me to question many other things I found I was not ready to turn my mind to. I feared that with your arrival, the thing we had hoped for so long – that the seraphim, and our true leader, Mattatron, was truly within our grasp.”

  “Shouldn’t that make you happy, though?” I asked quietly, and Uriel sighed.

  “It does, but it also makes me fear. It makes me fear that it will bring about more chaos and strife. That Lucifer will return, and that we will be thrown into a new era of war and turmoil that will confirm what I believe our Father feared the most – that we will destroy each other. Man, vessel, angel - that we will create such a catastrophe that Father will never return. That it will be the final nail in the coffin, keeping us here, in this place.” He sighed. “For truly, Larin, I cannot believe that the return of the seraphim will be as simple as my brothers believe. I do not believe in my heart that they will smite evil where it lies, but that their return will only make evil stronger. The world will fall forever, and we, along with it.”

  I frowned, not knowing how to respond to that. I didn’t think of it that way. I had also believed that the seraphim coming back would signal an end to the war. Maybe Uriel was right – maybe it would only be the beginning. I looked up at him, understanding. I had a newfound respect for his ability to look at the situation objectively.

  “I. . .obviously don’t have the answers, Uriel. I’m just kinda here for the ride right now. I can only hope that your feelings are wrong, but I’m sure everyone will have to agree that those are some valid concerns. I guess it comes down to whether or not the seraphim can really destroy Azrael and Lucifer,” I shuddered at their names, refusing to think of Azrael’s face as it dripped with darkness and bloodthirst, and continued. “I guess we can only hope that the end result is the right result for the world, for us all.”

  “It is true that none of us have the answers,” Uriel agreed. “And it is true that we can only hope. As Michael said to me before, or rather, reminded me. We have to have faith that the ends justify the means. That what you would see as a cliché – that good can and should win out over evil, is the goal to which we must all aspire.” I nodded, looking down at my hands. I touched the small lump of bone at the base of my ring finger that had never been properly set after my father had crushed it in one of his drunken rages.

  “Uriel, I’ve seen the worst of humanity,” I said softly, “but I’ve also seen the best. I’ve seen friendship, and what it can do to heal. I’ve seen it bring people together. I think that we are built to believe – to have hope – in a better future. In what love can do. It’s worth fighting for, and I think if given a chance, no matter how horrible the future or the path getting us there may look like, that people will work towards rebuilding at the end. It may get a lot worse before it gets better.” I paused, looking at Uriel, “but I believe in the end it will be better. I have to have faith, just as you do, too.”

  Uriel rose from the bed and smiled at me. There were no longer traces of disdain or hostility. I saw gratitude there. I couldn’t help myself and smiled back at him.

  “You are indeed very kind, Larin. I misjudged you before. I hope we can. . . work towards friendship,” he finished, taking a deep breath.

  “
I hope so too.” I smiled at him again. He nodded at me, turning to leave.

  “I know you have made my brother happy, Larin, and I am grateful for that.” I blushed, clearing my throat. Uriel chuckled, surprising me. “I expect he will be waiting outside. I will send him back in. Please let me know if I can be of any assistance to you while you convalesce.” He turned and left the room. I watched him go, shaking my head in surprise. It seemed there were miracles left in the world.

  As I came back in my mind to the present, I turned to look at Michael again, beseeching him to see reason.

  “Michael, please. I have to get out of here and walk around for a while. I promise you I won’t go anywhere without an escort. Please,” I said, lowering my voice. I experimentally placed a hand on his thigh beside me and looked at him with what I hoped was a lurid expression. It was meant to be lighthearted in its manipulativeness, but it had an interesting effect on both of us. I felt the action cause him to tense and felt his struggle with willpower. “I’m really feeling much better,” I whispered, and leaned forward to lay a gentle kiss on his neck, and then another. Suddenly, I was feeling something other than just a desire to be outside. Michael stiffened, then suddenly turned towards me and kissed me urgently on the mouth. The action hurt but was welcomed. More than that, as I felt explosions of desire within me. I kissed him back, and Michael reached his hands up to my hair, grasping it in handfuls as my hands pulled him closer. I wanted more and indicated so with my body. Michael responded by pushing me down onto the bed, his mouth never leaving mine. I couldn’t help but gasp in pain as the action caused my muscles to constrict painfully, the air leaving my lungs and my ribs protesting as they tried to fill back up.

  Michael leapt off the bed instantly, a look of profound guilt in his eyes. “Larin! I am so sorry,” he said, reaching down to help me.

  “Stop it, I’m fine!” I said, trying to regain the momentum of moments before, reaching for him to come back. I blinked away tears of pain as I did so, groaning in frustration. He helped me sit up, and I leaned against him, breathing heavily as spots danced before my eyes.

  “Well, shit,” I said, thoroughly frustrated at my body. Michael laughed, surprising me, though he rubbed my back reassuringly in understanding.

  “There will be time enough for. . .that. . . later,” he said, and I sighed. I nodded, not wanting our first time together to be unpleasant for either of us, no matter how much I wanted to expedite that moment.

  “Fine,” I said, then turned back to look at him. “I still want to get outside though. Tomorrow. Please?” I asked, trying not to sound as though I were begging, though I had clearly been reduced to that. Michael shook his head, about to deny me again, and I felt myself start to cry. He looked at me in shock, and I rubbed my hands against my eyes in frustration.

  “Larin, please understand,” he said gently. “I. . .”

  “No, you need to understand,” I said angrily now, “I went through a horrible ordeal. I’m finally feeling well enough to get out of here. I need to feel the sun on my back, Michael. You do not understand what it was like in that. . .place. . .of darkness. . ..and. . .” I cried again, the memories coming back all at once.

  “Very well, Larin,” he whispered, not wanting to see me upset further. I tried to stem my tears, my body shaking from all of the emotions of late. “Tomorrow we will go outside. Tonight, you rest.” I looked at him, making sure he was being serious. He was. He smiled at me, but I knew he wasn’t happy. I didn’t care at that moment, given I felt like an animal shaking at my bars to escape. But I felt immediate relief felt myself start to relax.

  “Do you really think I’ll be able to use my wings again?” I asked, despite having been repeatedly reassured that I would. They had been badly damaged from my capture and made worse by the infection. I just hoped they hadn’t been so damaged that they were beyond repair. I felt sick every time I looked at them, the beauty and perfection considerably tarnished. Michael nodded, looking at me seriously.

  “I do,” he said. “I’ve told you this before.”

  “I know, but I just. . . I’m giving you a chance to be honest with me.”

  “Do you think I would lie to you?” Michael asked me in surprise.

  “Of course not. . .well, not. . . lie, exactly, but maybe not want to make me upset.”

  “You mean lie,” Michael said, managing a grin. I let out a huff of breath, laying back on the bed gingerly.

  “Okay, okay,” I said. “I believe you.” I felt my eyes closing against my will. “You’ll stay all night, right?” I asked, blinking my eyes forcefully. I did not want him to leave. Ever. I found I was being particularly needy these days, and I had been apologizing to him profusely for it. Michael had reassured me frequently that it was understandable, that he wanted to be with me as much as I wanted him to be around. Archangels slept little, but the times he did he would either sleep in the chair by the fire, a book in his lap, or sitting up beside me in the bed. I woke up on several occasions with my arm draped over his lap, turning to him in my sleep as though his presence beside me was the most normal and natural thing in the world. I remembered the first time I had seen his face when he slept. It was absolutely beautiful at rest. Peaceful, almost childlike with an air of innocence despite the ancient being I knew him to be. I found I could watch him sleep all night.

  “Of course,” he smiled, sitting down beside me and opening his book to where he’d last left it. He put the other arm around me and kissed the top of my head gently. I fell immediately into a deep sleep, my excitement thinking about being outside put on hold for the time being.

  “Gently!” snapped Michael, and even Tristan seemed to have trouble hiding his irritability with Michael’s micromanagement of my rehabilitation efforts.

  “My lord, she is stronger than you may believe,” he risked, staring up at him as I sighed again in frustration at Michael. Tristan had been tasked as acting as one of my escorts and had been helping me flex one of my wings, holding it out while Chase and Lyric held the other. I had been wincing in pain, holding onto Michael’s hands while we worked at loosening the stiffness in the joints out of my wings.

  “I am, Michael,” I said, looking at him. “It’s already going much better, see?” I said, pulling my wing free from Tristan’s grasp and giving it an experimental flap. It actually did feel much better the more I moved it, despite the ugly patches where the feathers were missing.

  “Actually, you can let go, Chase,” I said. Michael was about to protest, but Chase let go and Lyric stood back. I flapped both wings together, heaving a huge sigh of relief in the process. It was much better.

  “I think I just needed to work them out properly,” I smiled, and Tristan met my eye, smiling back.

  “Vessels are quick healers, indeed,” he agreed. “Wings are much like any other muscles, they need to be used so that they do not atrophy from disuse.”

  “We’ll get you back off the ground in no time,” Chase grinned, and Lyric joined him. Their combined happiness was infectious. I was truly enjoying being around them both together, and I was so happy that Lyric had found her freedom and made it back to the Citadel to be reunited with her brother. I knew she would be a welcome addition to all the vessels, and I could see she had already made friends as people called out to Chase and waved to Lyric as she caught their eye. She, like Chase, was very attractive, her flaming red hair likely attracting attention for more than just her friendliness. Her brother was apparently oblivious to it, and I smiled to myself as one vessel waved shyly back to her, failing to see his friend in front and bumping into him from behind awkwardly. I tried not to laugh and tactfully looked away, focusing on Michael instead.

  “You are looking very well, Larin!” said Gabriel, landing a short distance away and walking over to us. “I could not be happier to see that. Even your wings are much improved. I see Michael has made an excellent nursemaid,” he grinned, looking at his brother good-naturedly. Michael rolled his eyes but returned the smile.
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br />   “Have you not got other matters to attend to, Brother?” he asked, clearing his throat.

  “Nope.” Gabriel continued to grin, folding his arms and watching my wings stretch.

  “I think I need to sit down for a few,” I said, still feeling somewhat weak though markedly better simply from being outdoors.

  “Of course,” Michael said, taking my hand and leading me over to a bench nearby.

  “Neesha has been asking about you,” Chase said, walking along beside us. “I told her you might stop by later if that’s okay with Michael,” he eyed Michael carefully. He had accepted our relationship but knew better than to walk on his toes. “Lyric has a bunk beside her, I think they’re going to be good buddies.”

  Lyric nodded happily. “She’s a sweet one, that’s for sure,” she agreed, and I smiled gratefully at her. I don’t know why, but I felt particularly fond of little Neesha. Maybe it was from the first time we had met. She had looked as sad on the outside as I felt inside. In any event, I was glad she had been making friends. That they had both been making friends.

  “I didn’t get to thank you yet, Larin,” Lyric said, looking at me. “You got a taste of what it was like. . . there. . .” She gulped, and I shuddered, understanding and remembering the unpleasantness myself. I’d only been there for a short time, and I could hardly bring myself to even imagine what it must have been like for her. For the others with the misfortune to have Azrael find them before the Citadel teams. “I’ve been trying to give the Council as much information as I could, you know, to help,” she said, looking at Michael in awe. I understood how she felt, remembering the first time I laid eyes on him myself. “But unless you’re in the upper ranks, you aren’t really told anything other than what to do.”

  “Your assistance has been very much appreciated, Lyric,” said Michael kindly. “I’m certain you will make excellent contributions to your peers here.”

  She blinked at him, still unused to a creature with white wings showing her any kindnesses. She swallowed, nodding appreciatively. “I’ll do my very best, sir,” she said, and Michael and I smiled at each other.