Once again I have been tested, and thanks be to the Father, I have not been found wanting.
The test took place on Earth, on Orison’s mountain, in fact, which was a kindness I appreciated. The familiar surroundings were a comfort to me, though Orison did warn me that I would have to be able to accomplish all that happened in the test in other places, as well. I am not worried about that—at Rumael’s suggestion, I have spent a good portion of my training time in traveling, working to familiarize myself with all different environments.
I expected to be nervous, but in truth there was a current of excitement running in me while we waited for the arrival of the seniors. I felt strong and ready. I could tell, too, that Orison was not worried at all—he waited with me in silence, unsmiling, but I could feel his pride and assurance.
They came together, Orison’s companions-in-arms, three stern seniors, and despite my confidence I shivered at the sight of them. I had met them all individually, but together they are entirely awe-inspiring.
“Hello, Asa’el,” Ero’an said with his ever-present smile. I have never met an angel who glows as brightly as he does, with the exception of Peronel, who could credit that to the grace of the King. Ero’an’s light comes directly from his own spirit. “You are ready, then?”
“I am, brother,” I said with a slight bow.
“None of that,” Anathalie ordered me. “We are all warriors alike.”
I nodded, but it was hard to see myself as her equal. Anathalie trained Orison, and it was from her that he took the dark sharpness in his aura. While in him it does not hide the warmth and kindness he feels for others, there is no such visible softness in Anathalie. She is all angles and anger, a Cherub of terrifying power.
“Then we are only waiting for Salathiel,” Ruhamah said. “She will not be long.”
Even as he spoke, there was a rush on the wind, and then Salathiel was there, folding her wings and smiling at us all. I am not certain, but I think even Anathalie’s expression softened under the gaze of the Elder.
“We are all ready, then?” she asked. “Then we can begin. Asa’el, I hope I will not make you anxious if I remain to watch.” She winked at me. “I admit to a healthy curiosity about your progress.”
“I am delighted that you have taken the time, Elder,” I answered her. “And no, you will not make me anxious.”
“Confidence,” she said, laughing. “I like it. You may continue, then, Ruhamah.”
Inclining his head, Ruhamah turned to me. He is a Dominion, like Salathiel, and not much younger than she, either. Orison told me that when the last Elder of the Guardians went into incarnation, either Salathial or Ruhamah might have risen to leadership. In battle as well as in age, they are equals.
“But if you ever have the fortune to see Salathiel in battle, you will know why she was the obvious choice,” Orison told me. “She has something that Ruhamah does not.”
I still am not sure what that may be, but I hope to learn it someday. But I am getting distracted.
“Asa’el,” Ruhamah said to me, “the most important thing for a young Guardian is that you know your enemy. Are you confident that you are familiar with the many ways the darkened world can endanger your charges?”
“As much as I can be confident without having experienced it myself,” I answered.
Ruhamah smiled. “A good answer. Tell me, then, four particular dangers that a child living in a city might come across.”
I answered that, and he continued to question me, giving me examples of different charges I might have to protect, sometimes pressing me to give details on how I would handle a situation. His expression was hard to read, but I know that once I surprised him—he had asked how I might defend a young woman walking alone at night from an attack by a strange man. I told him that I would look first for another woman to accompany her, and he lost the flow of his questions, looking curiously at me.
“Your first act would be to endanger another woman?” Anathalie asked, speaking for the first time since the test began.
“Of course I would protect them both,” I said, “but even one more woman can make an attacker hesitate, and just as importantly, the company of another would be a comfort in a traumatic moment.”
The seniors absorbed this, glancing between one another.
Orison spoke up from behind me. “In this matter, Asa’el does in fact have some experience, having defended one of his charges from just such an attack—before she was his charge, even.” I glanced over my shoulder, and he was smiling at me.
I wonder that I did not realize where I was going in my life long before.
I am not sure what the seniors thought of my answer, for Ruhamah went on with the examination without further comment. I answered thoroughly, taking time to think if I needed to. My examiners only listened closely, not showing their reactions, but Salathiel would occasionally nod or smile or, once or twice, frown. I made note of the latter so that I could return to those particular answers afterward.
When Ruhamah had finished, there was only a brief pause before Ero’an stepped forward. “Asa’el, who is the most common enemy among the ranks of the Fallen?”
“The Violence,” I answered.
“And what is the most common method of attack by the Violence?”
“They will either turn the wrath of humans against their targets, or they will use the environment to cause what the humans would see as accidents.”
“Explain to me how a Violence and a Nightmare are different.”
“A Violence attacks the body, while a Nightmare attacks the spirit.”
“And what Fallen also strikes at a human’s spirit?”
“A Cynic.”
“In what way do the two differ?”
“A Nightmare gives visions of pain and fear, while a Cynic gives visions of failure and defeat. In other words, a Nightmare’s weapon is fear, while a Cynic’s weapon is doubt.”
So it went, Ero’an’s questions coming as steadily as Ruhamah’s did. I did not falter in my answers—perhaps my fascination with the Fallen is a bit morbid, but it served me well for this portion of the examination.
Finally, Ero’an nodded and stepped back again. Now it was Anathalie’s turn, and my anxiety rose again as she lifted her eyes to mine.
“Your knowledge has been tested,” she said. “Now it is time to test your skill. Orison will stand in as your charge—defend him.”
There was an earsplitting crack, and a heavy branch broke from one of the trees, plummeting towards Orison’s head.
I knew that I could not move the branch itself, so I moved Orison instead, sweeping him out of the path of danger.
Only an instant later, a tiny stone came flying through the air with the speed of a bullet. This I simply knocked aside, though it came very close to the target.
Finally Anathalie simply came forward herself, fists raised. I stepped between her and Orison, my own hands up, and turned the blows away, at the same time pressing confusion and nonaggression into her spirit. She stumbled and blinked, and then stood back, looking at me with new respect.
“Well done,” Salathiel said. “You have a light touch, Asa’el. That can be a disadvantage, but you seem to have learned to play to your strengths. I like your subtlety.”
I bowed at the compliment, but Salathiel’s mind seemed to be elsewhere. She looked at Anathalie, and some communication passed between them that I could not read.
“Elder,” Orison said quietly, and for the first time he sounded uncertain.
Salathiel looked at him, and then at me, the Lower Eye seeming to glimmer more brightly on her brow. “Asa’el, you have done well thus far,” she said. “Would you be willing to undergo one more test? It is not part of what you will need to know in order to fly with us at winterstart, but I am curious to see how you will do.”
I was a bit unnerved by Orison’s reluctance, but it pleased me that Salathiel wanted to test me further, for it meant that I had done well indeed. “I am willing, Elder. What is the nature of this test?”
“Simply to protect yourself,” Anathalie answered, and before my very eyes, she vanished.
I had only time to blink before a heavy blow caught me alongside the face, and I staggered. The blow came again, nearly knocking me over, and with it the sharp cold sensation of a Fallen’s presence.
“Do not hesitate,” said Anathalie’s voice out of thin air, and I felt that icy cold moving closer, that feeling of something stalking me.
I was bewildered, but I managed to block the next blow, just. It fell on my shoulder rather than my face, at least, but it left my whole arm feeling cold and heavy. I retreated, backing away from the others, and then suddenly a fist of ice struck me right in the center of my back. I fell nearly at Orison’s feet, and he helped me up, but then he stepped back again. I looked up into his face, hoping for an explanation, but his expression was remote.
This is a test, I reminded myself, stepping back again into the open space. None of them are alarmed, so it is Anathalie who is doing this, and she will not harm me. But I have to prove I can do this on my own.
I took a breath and turned all my attention to the feeling of that stalking presence. Once again the touch of it on my heart turned into a needle, and I used it as the needle on a compass, pointing directly to my opponent.
I deflected her next blow and managed to lever her away from the others. I felt her circle around me and dodged a sweeping strike by ducking under it. Another blow came through so fast that I could not avoid it, and now my chest was burning with cold.
“Fight back,” Anathalie hissed.
My immediate reaction was opposition—this was my senior, after all. What if I hurt her? But I realized almost right away that that was prideful and foolish. Anathalie is a Virtue Cherub, with long years of battle behind her, and I am a bare novice, despite my four wings. Nothing I could do would harm her. And my seniors needed to see what I am capable of.
So I hardened my heart, and I charged directly along the sight of the needle, striking twice and backing away to wait for the response.
It was a blur of harrying blows then, moving back and forth between us, and I hardly remember which blows fell where or if they landed at all. The difference once I’d hardened myself was astonishing—suddenly Anathalie’s blows had only half the power, and I recovered more quickly from them. I felt that I could move quicker and strike harder, and I did. It did make it a bit harder to sense where she was, but I learned that if I waited for a blow to come, I could then catch hold of her and use that leverage to strike back.
“Enough,” Salathiel said.
The cold sensation vanished, and Anathalie reappeared before me. She seemed hardly scathed from the battle, while I felt battered and weak. Still, I held my head high, for I had done my best.
“A fair showing, for someone with only a few weeks’ training,” Ruhamah murmured.
“Fair?” Ero’an repeated, laughing. “To have lasted a sparring session with Anathalie and remained on his feet? All his hard work has paid off, it seems.”
Anathalie said nothing, but she patted my shoulder as she went past me, and some of the weakness went out of me. I wonder how she did that? I will have to ask Brid.
Salathiel came forward, smiling at me. “I like what I see very much, Asa’el,” she said. “You have worked hard, and it shows. You lack precision yet, but that will come with time. You have tenacity and resilience, which will serve you well.”
“Good use of strategy, too,” Ruhamah said. “Using her blows to find her allowed you to put more strength into your shield.”
“Thank you,” I said, my voice a bit faded.
Salathiel put her hands on my shoulders. “What I like best of all,” she said, “was that you still thought of your ‘charge’ even when you yourself were in danger. More than once you put yourself at risk to draw Anathalie away from Orison and the rest of us.”
I was a bit surprised by this. I had not noticed I was doing so.
Laughing at my surprise, Salathiel patted my cheek. “That it is instinctive makes it all the more impressive.” Stepping back, she put her hands on her hips. “I am very pleased, Asa’el. And I would be very glad if you would fly with us.”
The rush of excitement at her words left no room for lingering pain. “Salathiel, thank you! I will not disappoint you, I promise!”
“How could you, when you bring joy to the eye and the heart?” Salathiel said. She held up a hand as I opened my mouth to speak again. “And yes, as soon as the flight is done, you may go and take up your post at Freya’s side.”
I all but flung myself into her arms. To be with Freya again! I can hardly wait.
“Mind you, you still have some work to do,” Salathiel pointed out. “When you are not on Earth, I want you to continue your work with Orison and Rumael. And on occasion, when his work allows, I would like you to work with Ero’an.”
I inclined my head to Ero’an. “I would be honored,” I said, though I wondered why in particular he would take the time to train me.
They did not explain, merely wished me well and departed. Orison alone remained, and he told me how proud he was for my performance.
“I would never have been able to do it without your teaching,” I said to him, and I meant every word.
“I have not been the only one to teach you,” Orison said, shaking his head. “You would have done very well with anyone, I think.”
“I am not so sure,” I said. “Another might have had the wisdom or skill to teach me, but you were the one who had faith in me. You saw what I could be even before I did, and you have always believed in my potential. I am more grateful than I can say.” And I bowed to him, because I knew no other way to show the depth of my appreciation.
When I finally looked up, there was a gleam in Orison’s eyes—even, I think, in the Lower Eye, sharp and intent on me. “I think that you will do great things, Asa’el,” he said. “A warrior with love to lead him forth—you are a rare creature, and one that the world sorely needs. I think I will only continue to be proud of you.”
I hope he is right. I hope that I can accomplish something good, even if it is not so very great. But today, I feel that I could accomplish anything. I will fly with the Guardians! And when that is done, I will see Freya again. My heart is full.