I feel that I should use this post to express my deep gratitude and humility, and I do. I am overwhelmed by this kindness and trust. But there are other, colder emotions living in me at the thought of what happened today.
It was the first time I have been privileged to attend a strategical session among the Guardian seniors. Salathiel was there, along with all of my teachers—Ruhamah, Anathalie, and Ero’an—and several other high-ranking Cherubim. Kasfe was there, looking worn and sad, as well as Simmah, who nodded solemnly to me. Orison was there, and he took up a position at my shoulder as soon as I joined the group. And standing to one side, with wings as thin and lacy as a shroud, was the Elder of Gathers, Sakina.
Before I could greet her, Salathiel had come to me, touching my brow and brushing my wings with her own. “Asa’el, we are so relieved to see you well again,” she said, looking me up and down. “You seem well recovered. Does your scar give you any lingering pain?”
“None, Elder, I thank you.”
She gave me a sad smile. “It will,” she assured me. She turned and indicated her peer in the gathering. “You have not yet met Sakina, I think?”
“I have not had that honor,” I said, bowing to her. “I am pleased to have it now.”
Her smile was thin and tired, but her voice when she spoke was rich and deep. “It is indeed good to see you well again,” she told me. “Your loss to heaven would have been a very great one.”
What could I say to that? I only bowed again and looked to Anathalie. “I am ready to hear what news you have of Asoharith.”
“News, little enough,” she answered, her head bowed. “As you may have guessed, she has burrowed very deep into the realms of the lost to hide from us. We went so far as to request that the Saints seek more information, but we were denied.”
“Because she will be back, I am certain,” Salathiel said grimly. “Is it not so, Simmah?”
He inclined his head. “That is inevitable, Elder. I do not yet know how or when, but Asa’el and Asoharith will face one another in battle once again.”
I did not lie to Salathiel when I told her that my scar no longer hurt; as my strength has returned and I have spent more time with Freya and the others, the pain has faded away entirely. But when Simmah said that and made another encounter with Asoharith a certainty, it flashed heat and sickness in my chest just for a moment, and I understood the Elder’s comment a bit better.
“But that encounter is some time in coming,” Simmah went on. “And the reprieve has given us a chance to learn more how Asoharith became what she did.” He looked at Sakina, and the rest of the gathering turned their attention to her as well.
She sighed before speaking. “It is not often that a spirit is fully lucid in the moment of death. Most of them are too filled with confusion to register what is happening, and it is not until we reach the Veil that we can get them to understand. But some are aware, and with these it is our practice to maintain silence so that they do not learn anything that it would be dangerous for them to know. Unfortunately, this was not the case with Shannon.”
My heart dropped, and my scar seared again with pain as I remembered the horrendous aftermath of Shannon’s death—my own cries of pain, the voices that spoke all around her. I did not think that she could have heard or remembered all of that.
“Shannon heard your voice, Asa’el,” Sakina went on, “and recognized you enough to know you to be an ally and friend. She heard your farewell, and it frightened her. She knew that there was nothing you could do to help her. This increased her despair when she learned what was to be her fate.”
I put my hand up to my chest, and Orison took hold of my shoulder. “If this is too much for you, Asa’el—”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I know my own strength, Orison, and all I can do for Shannon now is hear how she became what she is. Please continue, Elder.”
Sakina bent her head to me. “I know that this is difficult for you,” she murmured, “and I hope you know that I bring no judgment to you.” She lifted one hand. “For the rest, it is easier if I show you.” And she opened a window into the Repository, to show us, indeed.
The Veil, it seems, is a white space quite literally in the middle of nowhere, disconnected from all other realms and filled with peace and silence. This is where spirits are taken before their final destination, and there in that white space stood Shannon, her red hair loose and flowing around her, her eyes filled with fear and anger.
“No,” she was saying. “No! You take me back right now! It’s not time for me!”
“I’m afraid that it is, Shannon.” Haizea could not be seen, and from the way Shannon spun around, she could not see her either. Her disembodied voice was quiet and firm.
“I’m only twenty-four!” Shannon cried.
“Some lives are long, and some are short. Some are graced with good fortune, while others are cut off by the choices one makes.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault?” Shannon demanded.
“Yes, Shannon,” Haizea answered, not cruelly, but honestly. “That is the nature of free will. You make your choices, and then you face the consequences.”
Shannon was white with fear, but she did not back down. How brave she was! “And just who is it who gets to judge me?”
“One who knows your every thought and desire. And you have been found wanting, Shannon.”
“Wanting of what? What is the standard that I was supposed to meet? I have a right to know!”
“What was expected of you was simply that you bring more good to the world than evil. And I am sorry, Shannon, but you did not.”
Shannon was quiet, her eyes wide.
“In this moment,” Sakina explained to us gently, “she was beginning to remember all the knowledge that was kept from her during her physical life. She remembered her nature and name as an angel, and the laws and expectations of heaven. It is often in these moments that lost souls repent, knowing themselves to be guilty.”
For a long moment Shannon stood in silence, listening to the past that had been taken from her. She pressed her hands to her face, swallowed, and then drew back her shoulders. An ugly, haughty look had come onto her face.
“Maybe I did fail,” she said, “but I wasn’t the only one. What about those who were supposed to protect me? What about my parents, or my friends?”
“They will be judged in their turn.”
“I didn’t have enough time on Earth to learn what I needed to learn!”
“For that you may look to your own actions.”
She shook her head forcefully. “You can’t accuse me for what I didn’t know!”
“Ignorance is no excuse.”
“No, no one could have done better without all of the information!”
“In fact many have done far better with much less.” Haizea’s voice was growing harder and colder. “But what is relevant here is your own behavior, and nothing else.”
“Bullshit,” Shannon snapped. “No one lives their lives uninfluenced by anyone else. If you’re going to accuse me, you have to accuse others. And you have to accuse yourselves, too. Isn’t it your task as angels to help us?”
“We can only do so if you accept the help. You made the decision to hold yourself aloof from any such guidance.”
Shannon’s fists were clenched. “And what about Asa’el?” she demanded, and the sound of my name on her lips sent lightning through my chest. “He said himself that he bore fault for my death—he apologized! So let him bear some of my punishment.”
I felt blackened. How could she wish that on me, after everything I did for her?
The terrible thing is, if she had asked me with real regret and not selfish rage, I would happily have taken some portion of her pain, if not all of it.
“Asa’el,” Haizea said, her voice empty of emotion, “has loved you far better than you deserve.”
“And what good is his love to me now?” Shannon asked.
When there was no response, her face twisted, and suddenly I saw Asoharith in her features. “He would have done better to have kept it to himself.”
The window closed, then, and I found myself leaning back against Orison, his arm around my shoulders. I shuddered and turned my head into his embrace.
Salathiel set a hand on my back and turned to Sakina. “By this,” she said, and I heard the anger in her voice, “do you mean to say that you were aware of the danger to Asa’el, and you did not speak it?”
“In fact,” Sakina replied, “I did speak of it. It was on my request that both Simmah and Kasfe were alerted to the possible danger. My mistake was in underestimating Shannon’s hatred and determination. Before now, I would have considered it impossible for a new soul to reach the rank of Apostate in such a short time.” She looked at me. “I should have expected more from a spirit that called to you so strongly, Asa’el. If you have advanced so quickly, why could not she?”
“She always was excellent at whatever she did,” I murmured into Orison’s shoulder.
“In any case, I am deeply sorry I did not come to you directly with the full truth,” Sakina said sadly. “I hoped that I was wrong, and that I might spare you the pain of this. Instead, I bear the guilt of both Haizea’s death and your injury. I ask your forgiveness.” And she bowed to me—she, the Elder of Gathers, bowed, spreading her wings as she did so and laying them flat before me.
I stood straight, reaching out to her. “Elder, please, I am glad to forgive you. If I had not been willfully blinded about Shannon’s nature I might have guessed it much sooner. Let us speak no more of the past today.” As she took my hand and straightened, I looked at the rest of them pressed close around us. “Shannon is dead now,” I said, though it seared black pain through my scar. “She has chosen to set aside everything worth loving, and every trait that I admired she now uses for evil. So please, let us leave the name of Shannon to rest and speak only of Asoharith from here on.”
“Wise words,” Salathiel said. “What do we know of Asoharith, then?”
“She has risen quickly through the ranks of the Fallen and has made it her habit to use the petty and weak to do her work for her,” Kasfe said. “In the past she accomplished this with persuasion and the knowledge she had of her enemy.” Her eyes flickered to me. “This knowledge was not much at first, but from the earliest days after her death she was able to find and to watch you from a distance, Asa’el, and she learned from that.”
I am chilled even to think of her watching me, hating me, from so early on. And not just me, but my charges, as well.
“With several successful escapes behind her, she gained influence, and then attention from the higher ranks,” Kasfe continued. “Now that she has an official position, she can command the rabble to do as she wishes, and once it is known that she wounded a Cherub, this influence will only grow. Other Apostates may well join in the battle.”
Anathalie took up the thread. “She is a patient and skilled hunter,” she said, “who delights in the use of the foulest methods. She is an artist at manipulating and sacrificing others to protect herself. She is imaginative, cautious, and vicious.”
“She takes joy in the suffering of any angels,” I said, the words burning my lips as I thought of Haizea’s light glowing horribly on Freya’s wall. “But her ultimate goal is to hurt and kill me. She blames me for her death and her fall.”
“And is wrong to do so,” Salathiel said, putting her hand on my shoulder again.
I looked at her, and I felt a great quiet come over my soul. Having heard Shannon’s last words—for they certainly were the last things she said before truly becoming Asoharith—relieved much of my guilt over her loss. Even in that moment when all the knowledge of heaven was returned to her, she would not acknowledge the slightest bit of fault. She kept herself closed off, holding her own self higher than anything else. I would have battered myself to pieces against that pride, and she still would have fallen. I did my part in loving her; she was the one who chose not to accept it.
“I know, Elder,” I said softly.
Her grip tightened as her eyes glowed with approval that warmed me and eased the lingering pain in my chest. Then she let go of me and turned to the rest of us. “Such an enemy will try again,” she said. “How can we be ready for her?”
And so we fell into discussion, the details of which I am charged not to reveal. There are ways for the enemy to look into the Repository, after all. But I can say that I will no longer be personally involved in the hunt for Asoharith. As I am her ultimate goal, it would be foolish for me to go into her territory. Instead, Anathalie and Orison will lead the hunt, as they have during my illness. I will stay back to protect Freya, to help train Kara and George in hopes of having their assistance—for Simmah believes that all three of them will have a part to play in the final encounter—and to be guarded myself. Two other high-ranking Cherubs, Rachmanes and Therai, will join me in watching over the house, to lend George and Kara the same level of protection that Freya has, and also to help protect me should an attack come to us.
“We want you to have as much time as possible to regain your strength,” Ruhamah told me, “for according to what Simmah has seen, it must be you who brings an end to this fight.”
In a very strange way, I was glad of that. After everything, I want to be the one who ends this menace once and for all.
“But knowing that, we will give you every advantage that we can,” Salathiel said. “And to that end, Asa’el, we would like to present you with your fifth wing. This will make you a match for all but the most ancient and dreadful of the enemy’s servants.”
And so it was that when I went to join Freya this evening, she was startled at first. Once she had accustomed herself to my changed appearance, she explained that I was brighter and taller than before, and it made my eye and my scar seem darker. “And you’re lopsided,” she added with a laugh, pointing to my left side where three wings now curled around my shoulder.
Her laughter faded, however, when I had told her everything. Our plan made her face turn white, but she lifted her jaw and asked only, “How can I help?”
And then when I had finished filling her in on the details, I lowered my head into her lap and told her what had been weighing on me since I realized it. “Asoharith heard Haizea’s name from my lips. She knew to seek her out because of me.”
Freya couldn’t actually rub my shoulders or pet my wings, but she traced the outline of them as she saw them, and the mixing of her aura with mine accomplished much the same comfort as the touch would have done. “It was her choice, Ace, not yours.”
“But I enabled her to do it. Haizea died before she could live because of me.”
There was nothing she could say that would take that pain from me. So Freya sat with it and with me in silence for a long time.
“We’re going to get her, Ace,” she said at last. “We’re going to take her out.”
I lifted my head. She was frightened, but the fire of her blazed hot with a martial light.
“Yes,” I agreed. “We are.”