Chapter One: Consequences

They say that learning from one's mistakes can strengthen the soul. I used to think that the very essence of that saying was false. When I was younger, my mother told me that mistakes were character-building, that they helped the world to become a better place. The foolish child that I was, I would question the judgment of my parents. As I would gaze at the cities below, clinging tightly to Mother's robe, I would ask the same question repeatedly.

"You say that humans are the ones that make mistakes, but why do I need to know about consequences?"

Mother would simply laugh, gently patting my ebony hair. "Jesabelle, darling, even the mortal things are worth knowing." I guessed that she wanted me to grow up a pure, dare I say angelic, woman. She was probably scared that I would venture down the wrong path, the path that lead straight to hell. After all, it was rumored that my father had wandered that way.

My mother and I were never very close; as soon as I could take care of myself, she eagerly escaped to the higher ranks of the heavens. While Mother was still around, I tried my best to behave as she wanted me to. As soon as her absence was confirmed permanent, I did a 360 and hung with people that were not the crème de la crème, so to speak. Those angels, who knew they were close to being classified as 'fallen', were a big influence during my 'teen years'.

Though they were supposed to be harmless pranks on humans, one of my jokes went too far. Under unholy peer pressure I drove an innocent woman insane. Normally I would have resolved this soon after, but I kept the illusion going just to fit in. The woman I'd tricked tried to commit suicide many times. One of the upper-class was lucky enough to find her, returning her to the world of the sane. Though she had not died, as the one at fault, I was called before the council.

To be called before the council was a sign that your immortality was most likely up. It was a group of well-to-do, and dare I say snobby, beings. They were our elders, their power alone exceeding all of ours combined. I dreaded the results of my trial, which was quickly approaching.

From my wings down to my toes, my body shook as I approached the council. My eyes were plastered on my feet as I approached. I was afraid to look into the eyes of my mother, who sat near the end of the golden table. Only when someone addressed me did I dare raise my head.

"Jesabelle, you know why you have come here." The thundering voice of Michael, the one and only archangel, reached my ears. I'm sure fear was reflected on my face as I stared at him. His naturally angelic features grim, his eyes were alight with the fire of anger and shame. "No doubt there will be consequences for your mistakes, but what will they be?"

Michael walked down marble stairs, slowly approaching me. He gracefully turned his back to me, the feathers of his wings whipping me in the face. My protests were ignored as he looked to the council members for ideas. One by one the angels told him their suggestions. Most of them were along the lines of 'send her to hell,' but a creative source supplied 'hurl the crazy gobbler to earth.' I made ugly faces at each of the suggestions, my expressions hidden behind the wings of Michael.

Though it was entirely inappropriate, I decided to amuse myself by poking Michael's wings. I knew it would take a long time for the whole jury to voice their opinions. I made another ridiculous face behind Michael's back, but my timing was horrible. He turned back to me, his decision made, right when I was in the middle of mocking him. Disappointed, the archangel shook his head.

"For an angel of your age, Jesabelle, you are oddly immature. I will ignore your little joke." He paused, coughing. Had I embarrassed him with my joke, as he called it? When his throat cleared, he began talking again. "Your punishment has been decided. Because you succeeded in driving someone insane, you must succeed in driving someone sane."

Drive someone sane? Michael must have read my mind, because those were the next words he used. "Drive someone sane? Yes…in the mortal world there is a man who needs to be brought back to the light. He has recently had a rude awakening, and needs help recovering his full sanity."

I opened my mouth to question him, but Michael waved one finger. "Don't question me, Jesabelle. I'm sure your peers have talked about this man…" He raised one eyebrow, and I finally remembered what man he was referring to. My confusion dissipated, I took a moment to recall what I knew about this man.

It was true that my friends had been gossiping about this mortal…he had loved some girl, and plummeted into depression after being rejected by his little miss perfect. That's what the rumors said, anyway. I knew not to count on chatter from peers, but I did trust one thing they said. This was better known as the 'walking corpse, death's head appearance' theory.

"Michael…how am I supposed to bring him back to sanity, as you say?" I bit my tongue as he began to pace, forcing myself from saying what was really on my mind. If I had spoken my thoughts, I'm sure that I would have been in much bigger trouble.

"That, Jesabelle, is up to you…use the disguise of a human to help you."

"Wait…a 'guise of a human? Does that mean you're sending me down there?" My voice cracked as I absentmindedly pointed to the ground.

Michael nodded, a rare smile spreading across his face. "Yes, Jesabelle, as part of your punishment." He softly clapped his hands, and my wings started to burn. The floor beneath my feet began to give way.

Bending down, Michael whispered something into my ear. "Jesabelle, there is only one rule to the task ahead. Do not, under any circumstances, begin to care for the man you will be aiding. Even as a human, an immortal must not truly care for the humans she aids. Close friendship with a mortal can lead to disaster."

The last thing I saw was Michael's dark eyes, suddenly filled with sadness, compassion, and something undefined. After that, I fell, my world going blacker than night.

Author's Note: Thank you, anyone who read this first chapter. As you can probably tell, most of this story will be told from Jesabelle's point of view.

Important: I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters. I only own the characters of Jesabelle and the angels.

Thank you again for reading, and enjoy the rest of the story!

xoxo,

Jezebel Denver