Back in the Library

Flynn held a theoretical physics book in front of him and sighed. "I'm still not seeing how this re-write of reality could have been done. There are too many anomalies in the events to even try to speculate. Even with magic the odds of getting three people's lives re-written to erase such important actions would require massive amounts of power."

"Maybe God had a hand in it" Jones snarked. "From what Lucifer was muttering seems like he's got it in for all his kids - not just his angelic ones."

"God wouldn't do that" Cassandra protested.

"How do we know what God would do?" Stone said suddenly. "No matter how smart we all are collectively and singularly we still wouldn't have even a speck of God's infinite wisdom."

"Never pegged you as a believer" Baird commented.

"Never was" Stone admitted ruefully. "But being a Librarian and seeing the things I've seen - let's just say I'm open to all possibilities."

"God's plans aside, Jones may have something" Flynn responded, suddenly enthusiastic again. "We need to know more about how and why the events that preceded the arrival of an angel in the library. Where's Michael?"

"Upstairs in the stacks" Stone said, pointing to a shadowy alcove above their heads. "Been there for a while... Why?"

"We need to get a better handle on what was happening when he got dumped into the chapel." Flynn bound towards the stairs, only to be stopped by the worried faces of both Baird and Jenkins. "What? We need to ask him for more data!"

"Let me ask" Jenkins said softly, moving to stand between Flynn and the stairs. "One soldier to another - I think he will be more forthcoming if the questions come from me."

"I agree" Baird looked up at the shadowy stacks. "Let Jenkins talk to him or let me. He's not likely to respond well to your enthusiasm for something that's deeply personal to him. And I'm still not sure he's as innocent of these events as he says he is."

Flynn frowned. "We don't know he's guilty of anything other than getting backhanded out of a fight. And neither of you will know what to ask!"

"What is it you need of me?" Michael's voice echoed down the stairs as moved slowly to rejoin the group. His face was stony, unwilling to show weakness anymore to these mortals.

Flynn looked around for a moment then mentally shuffled the questions he had in his mind. "First thing - this 'other' reality where the war is going on. What can you tell us about it?"

Michael shrugged, eyes fixed on Baird. "The Almighty created it as a shadow of this world so that we might test the concept of Chosen Ones giving their lives to save even the most unworthy of our Father's creations. That it still exists at all, considering all the errors in judgement my brother Gabriel and I have made still confuses me."

"Essentially - it was a test bed to try out something new" Jones said, closing his laptop and sitting on the table. "Do you know what would have happened if you got all the parameters of the game right?"

"IT WAS NOT A GAME!" Michael's voice hardened as he stared out at the mortals in front of him. "It was a test, a test of faith and obedience that we failed miserably."

"Every game has an end" Jones continued, ignoring the angel's anger. "A final chapter where everything comes together, where characters either die or get saved for use again if the player decides to run the scenarios again. If this 'other" reality was created as a test bed - what happens when the test is over? Do the people cease to exist? Does everyone get folded into another, existing time line? Does it continue into a sequel of the game?"

"I wonder" Cassandra mused, hopping up on the table beside Jones. "Maybe that's what's happened here? Maybe the original timeline that Michael and Lucifer remember was Arthur and Rowan 1.0 and this is iteration 2.0. A test of what the Triad would be like if they DIDN'T have angelic mentors but still had their own, unique powers?"

"So, like Jones asked - what happens when this test is over?" Stone asked, staring back at the agitated Michael. "And what would constitute a passing grade on this test - their sacrificing their freedom and happy lives to save your alternate reality? Or seeing it as a lost cause and standing firm to prepare for an attack on their own home or this world? Isn't that something we should be asking?"

"All valid questions" Flynn said thoughtfully. "And none we can answer until those three come back with that seal."

"Pity we can't just ask God" Cassandra said quietly.

"My Father has not seen fit to answer my questions since this war began" Michal replied, sadly. "I begin to see now why Lucifer did what he did. It can be hard to have faith when you see no response to your most ardent, heartfelt pleas."

"I think that's why they call it faith" Jenks said, turning to return to his workspace to pray for the quick return of his friends and to hope they would bring answers along with them.

In the Fae realm

"You suspect Merlin of being involved?" Rowan asked, quizzically. "That doesn't seem his usual way of doing things."

"No, normally he would just badger me until I have had enough of his whining and walk away. I think after all these centuries he's finally figured out his old tactics will never work on me and is trying something new." Arthur stepped around the table and eyed the now still, icy figure of Camelot's once powerful mage. "And I may yet be wrong – but he seemed very anxious that we NOT see what was in that memory vault. And I have to wonder why."

Vlad nodded somberly. "He's been quite over anxious about your return from the Library since he arrived for our chess game. His reaction to the vault only made things more… interesting." The old warlord looked up at Draco, one eyebrow raised. "Old Dragon – you were created around the same time as the angelic host. What do you remember of them?"

"Mostly that they had little time for me or for the Fae realm the Almighty created shortly afterwards. Most were too busy doing whatever task they had been created for – Seraphim as warriors, Thrones were meant to mete out divine justice, and the Archangels were the greatest of the Almighty's sons."

"So Michael and Lucifer – top of the pecking order. Do you remember them?" Arthur watched as Khan and Christoph signed to one another, fiery symbols passing between them.

"Vaguely" Draco admitted. "Before the great war, neither they nor another brother of theirs, Amenadiel, seemed terribly interested in my creation. I saw more of their younger brethren, Uriel and Rafael. Rafael was the healer of the lot and his twin Uriel was the scholar. I was not involved with the angelic realm during their War against their brother other than to stand guard at the borders to the Fae realm. Their quarrels, other than as they affected our lands, were no concern of mine."

"What about this Metatron that Seraphiel mentioned?" Arthur asked, gently pulling Merlin's frozen form into a more convenient place in the room – away from the roaring fire in the hearth.

Draco frowned. "Metatron I know a little more of – he was a scribe for the Almighty. A minor position he took far too much pleasure in holding over his fellow angels heads. I thought at the time it was odd for God to allow such a shallow creature access to the throne but…"

"When you're the Lord of Hosts, a petty little secretary probably doesn't register very much on your radar." Drogo shrugged, pouring his King a drink from the silver pitcher that had appeared (magically) in the center of the table. "My Lord?"
Arthur took the cup and sniffed at it appreciatively. "My favorite Bordeaux – nice."

Rowan sighed. "You've already had more alcohol in the last 48 hours that you normally do."

"It's just wine, Ro!" Arthur protested. "Besides, I'm thirsty."

"And probably famished" Vlad observed as plates of food appeared on the table. "Seems the little Fae are finally cueing into your needs without our having to chase them down."

Draco eyed the food dubiously. "I wouldn't if I were you, my King" he commented, watching Arthur spear a slice of beef. "They still haven't got the cooking of meat quite right."

Arthur took a bite anyway and made a face. "On second thought, maybe I'll pass."

"You didn't say whether you remember Seraphiel" Khan sang out, jumping up to snag a few slices of bread and cheese for his mentor.

"I never met that particular angel" Draco said, staring into the fire. "But I heard many impressive stories about him. It was said he and his line held back the demons of the pit from defiling one of the lower levels of Heaven until Lucifer could be captured and sent to Hell. The story, as I heard it, was that all his soldiers were either dead or wounded by the time the Archangel's were able to relieve them. Only Seraphiel and his shield brother, a Throne by the name of Zaphiel, were still standing. And Zaphiel was badly wounded, barely able to hold his shield in place to protect them both. If half that story is accurate – the Seraph was a very impressive fighter indeed."

"And his essence is somehow stuck in your head, little sister" Arthur mused, reaching for a piece of cheese. "Interesting. Wonder what Michael did to have God replace him with this old soldier?"

"Funny" Rowan whispered, drifting closer to the fire. "That's what he called himself in my head – an old soldier."

"Not so funny" Vlad followed his daughter to the hearth and kissed the top of her head. "God obviously wanted you to learn from the best, someone who wouldn't be put off by your looks and would push you to learn more than your brother and I did."

"As I recall" Rowan replied sarcastically. "You and Arthur had an unfortunate habit of dropping me into any random cluster fuck you could find and expecting me to fight my way out of it."

"Language, child, language" Vlad scolded mildly.

Rowan rolled her eyes as the men in the room, with the exception of Draco, all snickered. "I'll watch my mouth when my brother does – which will be this side of never."

"Sire" Draco interrupted, shooting his son a quelling look. "What exactly is the issue you are debating here? And how does it relate to the scribe Metatron?"

"You want to tell him or should I?" Arthur replied, looking back at his father.

"Perhaps I should. In the meantime you and your sister can run up to your rooms and get cleaned up for your return to the Library." He glanced over at Christoph and Khan, still working with fiery sigils between them. "Master Khan, if you wish, there is a guest room you can also use to clean up in. I'm sure I have something you can change into."

Khan looked up at the lanky old man with a grin. "That's okay. Creating something from nothing was one of the first spells I learned. But I sure wouldn't say no to a hot bath."

Vlad smiled. "Be welcome to my house, enter it freely of your own will."

Khan frowned as both Arthur and Rowan giggled. "Now I'm nervous."

Vlad turned, the smile never leaving his thin lips. "Wise man."