Today I was summoned into the presence of Salathiel.
Brid was with me, of course, as was Inca. Eburnean, who was the one to bring the message, came with us, their great white wings shadowing us. Where once that burning aura frightened me, now it fills me with courage.
Orison met us with a smile, his dark face peaceful, and I took hope from his expression. “They are ready for you, Asa’el,” he said, and he stepped aside.
Anteros was there waiting, and his vast presence washed over me. His aura was restrained, and I could see his uncertainty, but I still felt his love, and I was relieved that I had been forgiven.
“There is nothing to forgive, young brother,” he said, meeting my gaze. “Come and meet Salathiel.”
I looked past him, somewhat nervous. The Eldest and fiercest of Guardians—I did not know what to expect. Whatever my expectations were, though, they certainly were not met. Salathiel is a tiny figure, her hair long, her body rounded, her smile bright. Her six wings are short and soft, and the sharpness that I have seen in the other Guardians is only a slight edge in her.
“So you are the young one who has caused such a stir in heaven,” she said, and her voice was rich and kind and lovely. I found myself leaning closer to her, wanting to be nearer to that voice and that smile. “Asa’el, I am glad to meet you at last. Orison has told me much about you.”
I bowed deeply. “Elder, I hope not to disappoint.”
“Oh, never fear in that respect,” she laughed. “I only wish I had been there to see you when you were made. You’re one of mine, sure enough.”
My heart leapt; and then I was embarrassed, and I looked at Anteros. Was he shamed or hurt that I wanted to leave the ranks under his wings?
He smiled, and though there was rue in the smile, two of his wings reached out to me. “We have come to the conclusion that everything that has happened, has been according to the Father’s will. And so your request will be granted, Asa’el, and you will take your place among the Guardians.”
I shivered and bowed again. “Thank you,” was all that I could say.
“For what?” asked another voice, and there was a ripple of sweet laughter. “For letting you be yourself?”
I looked up in astonishment to see that the Elders were not the only ones there before me. Both of them bowed as Peronel came forward, her smile as warm and wise as the day I first saw it. “Well met, Asa’el,” she said. “I thought that I would be seeing you again, and now here we are.”
Twice to come under the eyes of one who speaks with God…I bowed as deeply as I could without falling over. “Sister, you honor me.”
Warm fingers came under my chin, and she lifted my face so that I could see her smile. “You have done as the Father asked,” she said. “You have followed love, and now you have become what you were meant to be. Love has been your guide, and now it will be your weapon—the best weapon there is in the long, hard fight.” She touched my nose lightly. “But it will not be easy. You have much to learn, and you will have to find your way on your own.”
I nodded. “I will work hard.”
“That I know,” she said. “But you must also learn wisdom, and that will begin by listening to those who are above you.” She was serious now, more so than I had ever seen her. “What is ahead of you, Asa’el, is great peril, and you will have to learn fast and fight hard. Let your seniors guide you, and put your trust in them. And let what you have learned of love protect you, for it is the only thing that can.”
There seemed to be something behind her words—not just wisdom to remember, but a warning to carry forth. I took her words to heart, though they frightened me, a little.
She stepped back then, and Anteros came forward. “This is goodbye, then, young brother,” he said, “at least for now. I am sorry to lose such a talented brother, but know that you will always hold a place in our hearts, and that you can come to us for anything you may need.”
I bowed my head, my eyes stinging with tears.
He wrapped his wings around me, and his voice grew deeper and stronger. “It is my hope and my prayer,” he said, “that what you have learned as a Cupid will protect you in the days to come, and that you carry our love and blessing with you into battle.” And he bathed me with love, assuring me at last that he took no offense from my departure.
When he stepped back, my tears began to run faster, for all of my brothers and sisters were gathered behind him, solemn in their ranks, but with wings spread, their love showing clear. Zezette, Danit, Shemida, Kuya, Jariel, Lubos, Adnar’el, Nozomi, Nehisi, Ahury, Alivia, Shahidi, Sixta, Abeer, Imatti—youngest to eldest, all those who have stood with me, worked with me, loved with me, were there to wish me well.
I could say nothing. I only pressed my hands to my heart and spread my wings wide as I bowed. Let me say it here, now, my siblings: thank you.
It was the hardest thing I have ever done to turn away from them. But it is my calling now to do hard things, and so I did it, turning to face Salathiel, who was smiling.
“Asa’el,” she said, “you are something that has never been seen before in our ranks. As a Power already, you bring great strength, but a Guardian’s training begins as a putto and does not stop. There is much for you to learn, and you must learn quickly if you are to fly with us at winter’s beginning. To that end, I call Orison to take on the task of your training, to work with you and teach you to hunt and to fight and to fear.”
Orison stepped up just behind me, his wings at my back like a shield. “I accept the task with joy,” he said, and there was joy in his voice, joy and pride, and it warmed my soul.
Salathiel nodded and turned her gaze back to me. Now there was something there, a fierceness that bordered on anger, and while I knew that the anger was not directed at me, still it made my heart quiver. “And Asa’el, do you swear before these witnesses to listen and obey?”
“I do,” I said.
“Be certain,” she warned me, “for I know that you have a streak of rebellion in you. In the past your faith has always led you right, but still, when recklessness and disobedience may harm not only you, but also your siblings and your charges, it will not be tolerated lightly.”
I shivered again. “I understand,” I said, “and I do so swear.”
She reached out and put her fingertips on my eyes. “Be ours, then, child,” she whispered.
Her touch burned, and when I opened my eyes, my sight was blurred for a moment. When it cleared, I shuddered, for now I could see the Lower Eye in the center of Salathiel’s forehead, dark and flaming with terrible knowledge. In terror I looked at Orison, only to find the same eye glaring down at me.
“Are you afraid?” Orison asked, his voice soft.
I was, and I am. But the fear felt—right, somehow. “Yes,” I answered.
“Good,” Salathiel said. “That is the first thing. The second is to act anyway.” She put her hands on my shoulders and kissed my cheek. Then she turned me around, and I saw with some astonishment that it was not just Brid and Inca and Eburnean behind us. Dozens of Guardians had gathered—more, far more than I could count, standing in orderly rows and watching me. They were fierce and terrible, and for an instant I panicked, wondering how I could ever be one of them.
But then I saw the gladness in their spirits, the pride and welcome—and most of all, their wish to protect and help me. It is the same that I feel when I looked at my charges, the exact same, and it filled me with relief to recognize it.
“Welcome our new brother!” Salathiel declared. “Asa’el!”
“Asa’el!” they roared, washing me with strength and assurance. They continued to chant my name, and in their voices I heard another voice, the voice that was the first to speak my name, to speak to me at all.
It is strange. Always before, thinking back on that first whisper, what I remembered was the love, the warmth and kindness. But now I recall that this fierceness, this fearfulness, was there, too, far greater than a thousand angels could speak.
I wonder if we always see first in God what we see most in ourselves?