Orison called me to heaven to meet him this afternoon, and I arrived to find him standing with Estael, a Principality Guardian I have met in passing, and a putto who despite his youth towered over both of them, and over me.  He was a narrow creature, with quick eyes and, as I learned, a sharp tongue.

On my appearance, before I could even speak, he blinked and said, “You?”

Estael sighed.  “Taralom.”

He ducked his head.  “I am sorry, brother.  I was merely surprised.”

Though I was not quite certain as to the nature of his surprise, I told him he was forgiven and greeted Orison and Estael. 

“Estael, who knows the putti better than I do, has recommended Taralom to be your watcher,” Orison explained to me.  “Taralom is nearly finished with his training and has already done this service for several Guardians, and he is known for having a quick eye.”

“Then I shall be glad to work with him.”  I noticed, however, that Taralom was still staring at me, and there was consternation in his spirit.  “But you have reservations, brother?” I asked him.

He hesitated, glancing at Orison, and I remembered in that moment what a figure of awe I found Orison to be when I first met him.  And at the time I was a Principality myself!  As a putto I never once met an angel of such high status.

“Speak your mind, Taralom,” Orison said, amusement in his voice.

“With kindness,” Estael said warningly.

Taralom looked back at me.  “You were a Cupid, and now you are a Guardian,” he said.  “Forgive me, but I would not have thought such a change could ever be made.  More to the point, I do not believe it is wise for one such as you to move so quickly into guarding individual charges.  I worry that your inexperience will weigh against you, and put your charges at risk.”

Now it was my turn to be surprised.  I have not spoken to many putti since I was one, but whenever I did I was greeted with more deference.  True, there was no scorn in Taralom’s voice, but there was not much respect, either.

But there was truth in his words.  “I understand your reservations, and in truth I share them, for I proposed to Orison that another might easily take my place with this case.  But I am not afraid to take on the challenge, and I am confident at least that my protection for Miranda will be better than no protection at all.”

Taralom did not seem to share this confidence.  “Men such as this, motivated by greed, will not be easy to dissuade,” he said.  “A direct approach may be required.”

“And you doubt my ability to take such an approach?” I said, smiling ruefully.

Taralom did not say anything, but it was clear in his aura that my guess was true.  Beside him, Estael was radiating disapproval, but Orison was restraining her from scolding her charge as she clearly wanted to.  He was looking calmly at me, and I thought that he wanted to know how I would react.

I took a moment to steady myself.  “Well, Taralom, I cannot blame you.  I doubt myself as well.”  He looked up at this, and I let the uncertainty and even fear show clearly in my aura.  “I am not certain that I have not taken on far too much already.  I am not sure how I will help Miranda.  There are even moments when I doubt my decision to become a Guardian.  But I have learned something in my time on Earth, and that is that action taken with good intention is nearly always better than cautious inaction.  I regret the things I did not do far more than I regret the things I did.”

“Nearly always,” Taralom repeated, seizing on the weakness in my statement.  “But you have taken risks that were not worth the effort.”

How much did he know of my history?  I know that I have been the subject of much conversation in heaven, but have my siblings been so interested that they would look back at the records of what I have done?

“It is true,” I admitted, “and I have learned to act with more precision, but even so I think it is important to act.”

“But the consequences of your actions will be greater now,” Taralom said.  “If you make a mistake, Miranda will suffer for it.”

“Taralom!” Estael cried as my heart sank.

Taralom ducked his head, but there was no true repentance in his heart.  “I only meant—”

“No, your teacher is right, Taralom,” Orison said, and there was steel in his voice.  “I allowed you to speak in honor of your fervor for your charges.  But Asa’el well knows the consequences of failure.  He knows the pain of losing a charge.”

Shannon.  The mention of her, even so obliquely, was like a lightning bolt to my heart.  It has been some time since anyone has spoken of her to me. 

When I looked up again, Taralom was gazing at me, and now there was remorse in his aura.  “I am sorry, Asa’el,” he said.  “I did not know.”

How could he not, when he has looked into my past?  But I shook my head.  Between my own observations and Orison’s words, I thought I understood Taralom now, and why he had been chosen to work with me.  “You only want to be certain that such a thing does not happen again, in which respect we are in perfect agreement, Taralom.”  He has the same dedication to the people on Earth as I do, even when they are not his responsibility.  Fervor for his charges, indeed.  “I hope that with your assistance, I can do what needs to be done.”

He studied me for a moment, and then he bowed his head.  “I am happy to help, of course.”  He glanced at Estael, and a trace of humor appeared in his expression.  “And perhaps as Estael hopes, I will learn something from you, as well.”

Estael took him away not long after that, and I had the distinct impression that he was going to get a scolding.  I am not sure how effective it would be.

“I am sorry, Asa’el,” Orison told me when they were gone.  “Estael recommended him because she hoped that he would learn a bit of softness and kindness from you.  But if you are uncomfortable working with him—”

I shook my head.  “I can see that he is only single-minded in his desire to protect our charge.  That does not disturb me.  But would it be a benefit to him to know softness and kindness?  He is all warrior.”

“A true warrior needs balance.  I will not send Taralom into the fight as he is—he is too rigid, which makes his soul brittle.  He needs to be able to look at others with compassion and to speak to them with gentility.  It is not enough to feel kindness.  One must be able to express it, as well.”  He put two wings around me.  “And who would be better to teach him that than you?”

I am pleased by his confidence in me, but I admit it does not help my doubts.  Now, in addition to the difficulties of this case, I am to teach my young watcher at the same time?  Perhaps my seniors have a bit too much faith in me.  I am happy to help, of course, but I am having to learn very fast as a Guardian!