There is still no word from my seniors about their decision, and the length of their deliberations worries me. What also worries me is what I learned today.
Brid and Inca have been staunch supporters of mine ever since the event. Unlike the rest of my brothers and sisters, they have stayed close to me, each spending time with me when they had it to spare to keep my spirits up. Today was the first day that the two of them came to me at the same time. They have met before, I know, and I also know that while they respect one another, they do not precisely agree on most things. In the moment that they arrived, however, I could see a silent agreement between the two of them to set all that aside for the moment. I appreciated that very much.
“Asa’el, I hope you are well,” Brid said.
That made me smile. “And I hope you are happy.”
“That has the ring of an old joke,” Inca said with a smile.
“As old as we are,” Brid said, but she saw my discomfort immediately and changed the subject. “You have still heard nothing?”
I shook my head. “There is nothing new. As far as I know, they are still deliberating.”
“This is longer than I have ever heard for a council of seniors to make a decision,” Brid said, frowning. “I cannot see what is so remarkable about what you did.”
Perhaps not, but it would seem to draw on other elements that make it more confusing and serious. Not only my work, but my very identity, seem to be in question. I did not say this, however, because I could not summon up my voice.
Brid put her wings around me, pressing close and radiating comfort. I leaned into her gratefully.
“Well, I have news for you, Asa’el,” Inca said, settling down and fixing her sharp eyes on me. “Eburnean was called into the deliberations today.”
This surprised me. “Why? What could they have to ask them?”
“Perhaps for their expertise from a Guardian’s perspective. It was a Guardian’s work you did in protecting the woman, after all.”
No one has come out and said it so clearly. “I only did what I needed to do,” I murmured.
“You acted out of love,” Brid said. “That is the most important thing.”
Yes, but not the only thing.
“Asa’el,” Inca said, “you should know that among the Guardians, there is no one who disapproves of what you have done. We all believe that you were right to act to keep her from harm. In the end, that is our calling—to protect our sisters and brothers who are on the front lines, fighting the Long Fight.”
“That is your calling,” I said, perhaps more sharply than I should have. “I am only called to give them love.”
“And that is precisely what you did,” Inca insisted. “Love does not only come in waves of warm feelings. There is evil in the world, and you resisted it for the sake of love. There is nothing wrong with that.” She leaned forward, radiating intensity. “Nothing,” she repeated.
And for a moment, her words convinced and comforted me. But once she was gone, my doubts returned.
“Do you think she is right?” I asked Brid.
There was much behind my question, and Brid heard it all. She rested her forehead against mine. “I think that you have taught me more of love than I ever would have understood alone, even if I were not embodied for centuries,” she said. “I think that I have no dearer friend than you, and that heaven has no other who truly understands love as completely as you do.”
This was too much praise, of course, but it gave me comfort as nothing else has. I curled into her warmth, and we stayed that way for a long time.