All has been quiet with Freya since the incident with the Arrogance. She has settled into her new position with an ease that surprised her, though it does not surprise me. She has many guards now and is never alone, but I have noticed that she is more comfortable when I myself am close. For this reason I was displeased to have been called away from her, but now I am glad, for it gave me an opportunity that few of us receive. I have had the privilege of meeting a Saint.
One of the Readers gave warning that there was to be an attack on a group of Gathers today, and I was among those selected to make up their guard. Orison, perhaps sensing my wish to argue when he gave the order, explained that it was important for me to see as many of the different varieties of Fallen as possible. “Consider it part of your training,” he told me. “It will make you a more effective fighter, and therefore better able to protect Freya.”
So I joined the group, which included Yael, as well as two other Cherubs I had not met, Adallinda and Boreas. I was the last to arrive, and had little enough time to greet my siblings before the Gathers arrived. Three of them carried faint lights in their cupped hands, the spirits of our brethren ready for incarnation. We Guardians bowed in respect.
“Thank you for coming,” said the lead Gather, the only one with empty hands. “My name is Rammez. When we leave heaven, we must be ready for the attack to come at any moment. Once we have delivered our precious cargo, there will be no reason for them to strike.”
“None except spite,” Adallinda said, “which is reason enough for our enemies.”
Rammez smiled gently. “It is possible, but not likely. Spirits only try to take the unborn. They have no reason to waste their energy on the damned, who will be coming to them soon enough. And they fear the blessed, as you yourselves will see.” They spread their great black wings, five of them. “Come,” they declared, and we took flight.
Adallinda, who was in command of our escort, took point, while Yael brought up the rear. Boreas and I circled the small group of Gathers, keeping watch as we wound our way downwards into the evening. For a time, the flight was almost peaceful, until I felt them coming.
Spirits are the most ephemeral of the enemy, all but invisible even to the Lower Eye. But their hearts are more restless than others that I have sensed, a constant cry of despair in the night air. The moment I felt them, I cried the warning to the others, and we tightened our circle. The enemy formed a ring around us all, and my heart sank at how very many of them there were.
“Boreas, with me!” Rammez cried, and Boreas lifted his icy shield and battered his way through the blockade of the enemy. The two of them vanished with the speed of a howling wind, trailed by half a dozen Spirits.
I was startled by their abrupt departure, but Adallinda seemed to understand. “Hold fast!” she called to me and to Yael. “They will return, and then these disgusting pollutants will flee screaming.” She snarled the last words, lifting fists that were suddenly clad with golden gauntlets glistening like the morning dew.
The line of the enemy whispered and murmured, and one of them slipped closer, translucent and sly, looking indeed like an oily smudge in the air. “Give up the souls, angels,” it urged in a surprisingly sweet voice. “We can all depart secure and safe.”
“Coward,” Adallinda said, and her glance went to me, filling me with the same angry purpose that she felt. My bow came to my hand, and I lifted it, drew, and loosed in the space of a blink, and the Spirit died, its scream lingering longer than its smoky form.
The others howled and attacked, and we were pressed hard right away. The Gathers were closed tightly together, wings overlapping to protect the precious souls in the center of their circle. I stayed close to them, shooting into the haze, while Yael and Adallinda fought around us, giving us with their speed and urgency a sphere of safety. The singing of Yael’s hammer and the crashing of Adallinda’s gauntlets rang all around, and I fired more arrows than I could count, and yet the enemy just kept coming and coming.
Two of them slipped past Yael to claw at the Gathers’ wings, and I spun to strike them away with the end of my bow. But then there was another, digging at my eyes, and I screamed and twisted to get away from its slimy touch. Adallinda swept past me, her wings brushing my face, and carried the enemy away with her, but I could see marks on her where she had been hurt, and Yael, too, was slowing. We would have lost the fight in another few moments.
But then a swift wind tore through the group, and Boreas came crashing down among us, his great shield forming a new barrier between us and the enemy. They recoiled, and I thought at first that it was at the arrival of this new, fresh soldier. But then Boreas stood aside, and Rammez opened their cupped hands to reveal a brilliant light. Even we angels were blinded by the glory of it, and the Spirits positively howled, clawing at their own eyes.
“Enough of that,” said a voice from the light. “You dirty the fine evening with your noise. Begone, and bring harm no more.”
And they were gone. Without a whisper, without a blow, the enemy vanished into the air, leaving only we angels, and the remarkable presence in the light. For an instant, I thought that it was the Heir to the Throne, and my whole body trembled with awe.
But then the light began to dim, and the figure standing in the air, while human-formed, carried no sign of sacrifice or suffering. He was merely a man, his face lined and his beard long and white, but there was a childlike wonder in his eyes.
“Gracious,” he said, looking at Rammez. “Are they dead?”
“So they are,” Rammez said respectfully. “We thank you for rescuing us, Guru.” They and the other Gathers bowed. Somewhat stunned, we Guardians followed suit, realizing only now that this was the spirit of one who had lived a life on the shadowed Earth and passed all of its tests.
“Well.” The Saint glanced around at all of us, faintly puzzled. He reached up to touch his turban, then looked down at his own glowing hand. “I am pleased to have been of assistance, but I admit I am a bit confused. You said that I am dead?”
“Your mortal life is over,” Rammez confirmed. “But there is a greater life ahead of you. I was sent to bring you to the court of the one you know as Waheguru, to your well-deserved peace and rest. I apologize for the delay, but I knew that you would wish to assist the young ones.”
The Saint’s gaze followed the sweep of Rammez’s arm, taking in the other Gathers and the dim lights in their hands. He frowned and walked across the air to stand before them; they bowed and held the lights up so that he could see them better.
“Yes,” he said slowly. “I am beginning to remember. In another life, I was—I had a different name, and I knew different things.” He reached out, very gently, and let his fingers rest just above one of the lights. “They are beginning their mortal life, even as I am ending mine?”
“Just so, Guru.”
The Saint laughed softly, amused by something that we did not understand. Then he tipped back his head and began to sing, a song blessing the souls bound for their mortal life. We all listened in wonder and joy, knowing that the power of this man who had lived well would follow these souls through their lives, and that they would carry a certain grace with them because of it.
When he had finished, he looked at the rest of us, seeing the weapons in our hands and the wounds on our bodies. Adallinda was the worst off, her wounds already carrying the first hints of festering despair.
“You have fought well, it seems,” he said. He came to each one of us in turn, laying his hands on our wounds and singing again, this time a hymn asking for our healing. When it was my turn, I shivered at the warmth and love in his touch, and when he lifted his hands, there was only a dim scar, and the pain was long gone.
“Less fear, my brother,” he said to me, startling me into meeting his gaze. “More love.” He smiled. “Your name?”
“Asa’el,” I answered, humbled to be speaking in his presence.
He nodded and turned to speak to each of the others. I stayed still and quiet, holding his words close to my heart. It is wisdom I have been offered before, but never so simply, and never from someone so close to my King.
Adallinda was brave enough to ask him his name in turn, but he only shook his head. “I had one name as an angel, and another as a man,” he said. “Now I will have a new name, and I am eager to receive it.” He turned to Rammez. “May we go now to meet Waheguru?”
“Yes, Guru. We thank you again for saving us.”
“And I thank you all for your service,” he said, looking around at all of us. “Go in peace and safety this night.”
And then Rammez swept him up in their wings, and they were gone, and the night was that much darker for his absence.
We finished our task with no more trouble, which is good, for we were all still awestruck by what had happened. I always knew that Saints had great power, but I never thought to see it myself while still an angel. What a wonder.
I will have to remember his words. It is not as important to worry for Freya as to offer her love and comfort. What will come will come, and I will meet it when it does. Until then, I need only to stay by her side.