Rochel, who really was an angel, walked into the church, his footsteps sounding slightly like music. He stood alongside her and also lit a candle. The sad thing was, theirs were the only candles lit that afternoon. The church was not exactly a wellspring of faith for Heaven. Daresiel examined the angel. He was good at appearing human. His melody blended into the Symphony around him. Here in the church, he had the freedom to unmasque himself a bit. Still, his easy bearing, his warm smile of white teeth framed by a trim brown beard, totally wasted and unappreciated by Daresiel, all spoke of someone who had gone native. He was as comfortable in his vessel as a real human might have been. And his clothes seemed to ride better on him than Darlene's did on Daresiel.
"Kind of meagre offerings, wouldn't you say?"
Daresiel looked behind them. There was only one human, snoring in the pews. But the state of faith, or lack thereof, in Brooklyn, was not her utmost concern. She had more pressing matters to attend to.
"Have you been briefed on..?" Daresiel watched as Rochel walked back and exited the church. He came back a moment later, and stood alongside Daresiel.
"Where did you just go?"
"Hmm?" Rochel brushed his overcoat, flicking off a piece of lint. "Just to see if there was anyone outside. This place could use a bit more faith. Thought I'd round up some converts."
The manners of these earthbound elohim did not impress Daresiel.
"This is your first time down here?" he asked.
"Yes."
"I'd practice your smile. Humans smile a lot, especially when they meet friends. Also, try to ease up a bit. You're pretty stiff."
This was too much. "Roch-el," she said, using formal pronunciation, "I don't know what you're used to down here, but where I come from, angels know their place, especially when being addressed by their superiors."
The angel did not speak at first. He stared at the candles they had lit. But instead of offering his apology, he laughed. Seeing the look on her face, he laughed some more. When he had done laughing, he wiped an actual tear from his eye and looked at her, trying badly to smooth his mouth into a firm line.
"Look, when I first came down here, I was the same as you, all full of fire and brimstone, with a huge hair up my crack. A word of advice, this isn't Heaven. Earth has its own rules. You may be a seraph, but you're part of the Daemon order now. That means, earthside, you're no higher than any elohim in the ranks. And you better not try that seraphim rank crap on the archons. Down here, they rule."
"Of course," Daresiel uncomfortably agreed. The convoluted hierarchy of Heaven meant that an eloha might be archangel in one context, and servant in another. She had not considered this, but she was able to accept it.
"How long have you..?" Daresiel started to ask.
"Six centuries."
"That's not long."
"Not up there, maybe. Down here, time takes on a whole new meaning. You'll see."
Rochel offered her a stick of gum. Daresiel shook her head. Rochel took one and started talking while he chewed. Daresiel watched him with fascination.
"How are your human memories? Coming back alright?"
"Mostly. There's still a few areas that I'm unclear on. The man, he expects me to cook. The smell of human food is sickening."
"Some things from your human self, you won't recover. What's your human name?"
"Darlene Evelyn Marchand."
"Right. You're not Darlene anymore. Once you awakened, your eloha nature popped her right out. She's coming back, in bits and pieces, and your mind is going to try and marry the two together, what you were before being born, and the life you lived before the Awakening."
"Seems a lot of fuss."
"Hey, Sister, you're a celestial. Without a skinsuit, every vibration of your being would cry out to the Enemy, come and get me. And you'd create dischord with every step. Times have changed. The Symphony is manifest, no longer so malleable as in the Beginning."
"Yes, I remember. I was told all this before I was born human."
"Then remember, you're not the old Daresiel either. Give it a century or two, and Darlene will start to fade. But she'll never be totally gone. That life you lived, you'll carry some part of it with you, even when you're back topside. If you die down here, unless they catch you on the wing, you'll likely reform back in Heaven. Then, if you have the stomach for it, you can be reincarnated into another available body, get born human again. And then you'll go through the process again, and who you are will change again, adding another life, another layer into what you are. Try not to die too much. If your corporeal self dies, pray that you're retired so you don't have to come back. Too much of this round-trip business, it can make you schizo."
Daria nodded. "A remnant."
"Right." Rochel looked toward the empty altar up front. He pulled up his collar, just like a human ready to brave the cold outside. "I guess that about covers it. You decide what to do about your human family?"
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. What happens if I leave the man and his child?"
"Child?"
"She's not a nephilim," Daria assured him. "She was born before my Awakening. I mean, the odds are extreme that she would be. I'm sure none of my unawakened celestial nature seeped into her. I'm watching her though."
He nodded. "Well, families break up every day down here. Mothers abandon their children. I don't think it will be a big deal."
"Won't it cause dischord in the Symphony?"
Rochel shrugged. "Not really. Your skinsuit gives you some immunity. You can act like a human, to a degree. Don't kill them if you can avoid it. Don't cause something to happen that causes their death, at least too often. Other little tragedies, well, sometimes you can't avoid them."
"Do you know why I awoke late?" Daria bowed her head, pretending to pray. She looked up the crucifix above the candles. The eyes flickered, their whites playing of the candlelight, making Jesus look rather insane.
"Well, the Awakening is usually triggered by some physical or mental event. It's different for everyone. With me, it was puberty. And it can be a lot more gradual, not all at once like yours. You're lucky you awoke at all. Some first-timers, they have to skip a few incarnations before they wake up. They end up back in Heaven before they know it, their memories crammed full of lives they never thought to live. If we were able to trace an incarnation, we might have found a way to force the Awakening. But there would be a drawback. Unawakened, you might as well be human for all we care. That," he indicated the snoring penitent behind them, "might be the Throne of the Morning, come to banish darkness from the skies forever."
Rochel clapped his hands. The walls inside the near empty church reverberated like thunder. The snoring man jumped into consciousness . He looked around, looked at them both, rubbed his nose and started to leave.
Continuing his point, "But we would never know it unless he wakes up for real. But if we can't detect the unawakened, neither can the Enemy. The nascent elohim are safe while they're most vulnerable in this human state."
Daria nodded. "Then I will remain with my family."
Rochel raised an eyebrow. "Don't you serve Dominic?"
"Yes."
"His reputation isn't one of tolerance. Are you sure this is wise? Being late a decade isn't going to matter much. Being late half a century, someone like Dominic might take notice."
"The man has a disease. He's dying from poisoned blood that he got in a hospital. I don't think he'll last more than ten more years. Waiting a few years won't matter to my mission."
"You could cure him," Rochel told her.
"Is that allowed?" Daria was suspicious. This did not sound orthodox.
"Not if you're strict about interpretation. But it has been done."
Daria decided Rochel was either foolish or daring to be telling this to a servitor of Justice.
"No, I don't want to interfere. If I were to save him, I would then have to leave him anyway, or I would have to be later than I can allow myself, waiting for him to die of other causes. This way, I cause less disturbance in the Symphony, and can still arrive in California to deal with the mess out there in good time."
"So, you're just going to let him die then?"
"Yes. I'll let nature take its course."
"Good luck. If the part of you that's Darlene loves this man, it's not going to be so easy. And if he were alive, he could care for the child. Darlene would probably not want to leave her child to strangers."
"She'll be an adult. Duty is clear. I'm not going to let human emotions cloud my judgement."
Rochel nodded. "I'll let the Archon of Brooklyn know your decision."
"Tell me, why am I meeting the Archon?"
"It's customary for all elohim to present themselves to the local head honcho. However, in your case, I get the distinct impression she wants to talk to you about something. Once more, here archons rule. Remember that, and you'll stay out of trouble. If they say fly, just ask how high."
He touched his hand to his head in salute and walked toward the exit. Daria followed closely and then headed for her bus stop. Outside, the sky was a bright blue. Sunlight reflected off of clean patches on otherwise dirty grey snow piled high on the sidewalk. On the busy road, afternoon traffic passed by slowly, drivers wary of ice. Daria heard Rochel sing, a sound unintelligible to humans around them. The light, the melting snow, ice, and the timing of several cars all coincided to culminate in a city transit bus crashing and crushing half a dozen smaller passenger cars as it rolled over them. The bus then settled upside down and, as onlookers screamed, burst into flame.
Daria walked back to Rochel. "You did that," she accused him. "Why? You said we are not to kill or cause to kill humans when possible."
"Do you sense any dischord?"
Daria focused on the Symphony. There's was a tinny quality to it, like strings plucked when stretched too taught. But there was no dischord, certainly nothing compared to what should have occurred by this elohite interference. Why?
Seeing Daria's puzzled look, he decided to explain. "I made sure events conspired so that no one was hurt."
Daria looked. Humans were piling out of the bus, just in time to avoid the explosion. Others were pulling themselves and each other out of the crushed cars. Everyone was amazed that no one seemed seriously injured.
"It's a miracle!" she heard one man exclaim. "I thought I was a goner."
Though the odds were incredible, impossible perhaps, for what was next to happen to have occured, sunlight reflected off melting snow, forming crystals, prisms of ice that caught the light in such a way as to send shafts of brilliance to the door of the church, just as bells tolled three. People looked up seeing the church as if for the first time, bathed in light, the sound of bells clean and clear in the crisp air. Several started toward it, climbing the steps to offer their thanks for this miraculous event.
Daria could soon sense the emanations of strong emotional faith pouring out of the church, heading to Heaven. She looked at the angel. He just smiled and shrugged. Whistling, he put his hands in his pockets and walked off.
"Don't forget. Be at the Brooklyn Bridge in one hour," he called back to her.
You're late.
Rochel was on the walkway, near to a tear in the fence that screened pedestrians from the road. Up above them, perching on the cables and spans of the bridge, elohim sat, watching them, watching the traffic on and underneath the bridge, scanning the skies. Strangely, no one seemed to take note of these figures, perching like birds, above them. It made the scene somewhat surreal and unearthly.
Sorry. After you wrecked my bus, I couldn't get a cab. And then there was the traffic. Even without the accident, it's terrible this time of day. How did you get here so fast?
Rochel looked at her. His expression was one of amusement. He nodded to a barge passing underneath the bridge.
"In my first days, it was ships. They were always too expensive, not available, or there were storms or pirates." He looked at her. "Of course, imagine my chagrin when I finally realized I didn't need a ship."
Rochel scanned the passersby for a moment. Daria followed his gaze, but when she looked back, she was surprised to see that he had transformed himself into his divine form.
"You coming?" He took off, his wings beating slowly, scenting the air with perfume with each beat. He just hovered above her.
"Are you mad! In front of the humans?"
Daria looked around. No one seemed to take notice; no one except a small child who pointed up to his parent, "Daddy! Look!"
The boy's father looked up to where his son was pointing. "Oh, I see. Yes, what a pretty bird."
The boy regarded his father with surprise, shaking his head. He looked up, noticing all the angels kneeling above him. Looking back at Rochel, he smiled. Rochel smiled and waved back. The boy, who seemed no more than four years old, took no notice of Daria.
"They can't really see us unless you want them to. Only the little ones, and sometimes the elderly or dying too, just before they cross over. But children like that boy will soon forget that he ever saw an angel, except in some forgotten corner of his mind."
He swooped down. "Choose your moment and come. The Archon is waiting for you."
Of course, Daria realized. She had been told all this, but her memories were still fractured. Human and eloha, everything was mixed up and her mind hadn't sorted it all through yet. She was a Daemon eloha now. In mark of this service, she too could assume the winged form of messengers. She had no need to take her true, divine, form, which might have been dangerous to any humans nearby.
Taking a breath of faith, Daria got up to the railing, near to the tear in the fence. Climbing through, she jumped into the lanes of traffic.
"Whoa, shit!" A bridge policeman ran over. His partner, who had been talking to someone, looked back and ran after him.
"What is it?" his partner asked him.
"I thought I just saw a jumper," he explained.
Both men looked up. All they saw were two white birds fluttering up into the bridgework. The policeman who thought he had seen a woman jumping saw two white doves. His partner saw two brown swallows. Another, a woman passing by who looked up while walking to see what the police were looking at, saw the most beautiful scarlet macaws. It had always been her greatest dream to see a macaw on the wing, but the Amazon was more than her lifetime away. But now, here were two, in the City, in the Winter. An avid bird watcher, she hurried home to make a note in her journal which, sadly, would be later contested by her fellow enthusiasts as being utterly impossible.
Daria was unused to flying on Earth. But once she got the hang of it, the experience was giddy. She beat her powerful wings and dodged through the cables. She was quickly as adept as any true angel. This new celestial form, being as it was, still attached to her human body, was more bulky and awkward than her true divine nature. Still, it gave her a sense of wonder and freedom to take to the skies. The part of her that was still Darlene revelled in this wonder of flight. It was a nearly clear Winter day. Wisps of high clouds beckoned to her to come fly beyond them and see firsthand the airy realms. Sadly, it was only a few more wing beats until she landed on the tower Rochel had directed her to.
Principality Rogette, the Archon of Brooklyn, wasn't what she had expected. Though she was in her winged form, the archon's clothes and her body offset any sense of divine majesty. Even her name was unseemly, being obviously her human name. She insisted on using it in the company of elohim, despite her rank. She was tall, and muscular, but her short blond hair was unkempt and wild as it peeked out from underneath a ratty holey baseball cap. She wore a bulky leather and cloth coat that she might have pulled from a trash bin. Both her cap and her jacket bore a stylized gothic 'D' emblem. Daria noted some blotchy yellow and brownish stains on the jacket.
"Principality Rogette. I am honoured to bask in your glory." Daria bowed.
"You were welcome, Sister." Rogette looked down to see what Daria was staring at.
From her high vantage while bowing, Daria looked down. She saw that there were many others down below her, more than she'd seen earlier. Some walked alongside men, others sat starting into the distance, perched impossibly on spans that could not have held their wait had they been human.
"Daresiel, what are you looking at?" the archon asked her. Her voice was deep, husky, and sonorous, like slow melody whose pattern creeps up on you before you know it, taking you by surprise.
"Those others down below. They are angels?"
"Grigori. They are the Watchers."
"There are so many of them."
"More than there are angels. Many who transgressed are imprisoned in Machon now. Still, a multitude serve on Earth, in banishment, keeping their quiet journals, making their reports."
"I never knew," Daria whispered. As there were no grigori, at least none walking freely, in Heaven, she had never seen one until that moment.
"It is said by some that their greatest sin was to love Man more than God. For this, their punishment is to be ever near that which they so loved, but as mere spirits, without form. They cannot help nor hinder, but can only watch. They are mere shadows, if even that."
"What an army they could be, if only..." Daria realized she was broaching a forbidden topic.
"Yes, perhaps they could have been. You can see them when in celestial form. Later you will sense them, even when in corporeal form. They are everywhere. But they take no part in the War. They are incapable of interfering and will take no notice of you in any case. Their sole obsession is with the humans. Pity them. Some even despair so greatly of their condition that they will forsake their divinity, willingly becoming remnants, so that they may once again walk amongst men."
"Willingly?" Daria could not believe this.
"It is rare, but it happens."
"I do pity them. But perhaps this punishment will be of some good service. It will remind the daemonae what will happen should any transgress." Daria looked up. Rogette did comment. She was staring at Daria intently, her expression inscrutable. For a moment, Daria thought she might have offended the archon.
"Daresiel, do you remember the details of your mission?"
"Clearly. I am to go to a place called California, to a city on the coast there called Santa Cruz. The Archon of Santa Cruz, Principality Valnum, has been recalled to answer charges. The situation, I understand, is very unhealthy. I am to prepare the way for a new archon to take control."
"I take it then your lord, Dominic, has already judged Valnum. Were this not so, you would have not been told that Valnum would not be returning."
"I don't understand. I was told that Principality Valnum exceeded his authority, to the point of making Santa Cruz a refuge for undesirables."
"He has been accused of this, true. But the Celestial Court has not rendered any decision. I wonder if your lord, instead, intends to use Valnum's recall to install someone of his own choosing."
Daria did not know what to say. Even if this were true, it was not for her to comment. And though she owed Principality Rogette her obedience while in her city, she found herself resenting the archon's insinuations about her master.
"Normally, a city the size of Santa Cruz would not be considered so important say, as a large city."
Rogette extended her arms to either side of the river, to indicate the cities of New York and Brooklyn.
"Santa Cruz, however, is a mission site, and as such, it once held a tether. It is the avowed goal of the Seraphic Council that all the mission tethers should be reinvigorated. This will put places like Santa Cruz once again at the forefront of the War."
"All the more reason to have a capable archon in place," Daria pointed out.
"Daresiel, here on Earth, even the highest princes of Heaven must bow to the will of an archon when dealing with affairs in the archon's domain, even if the archon oversees only a simple village of grass huts. Some archangels chafe at this."
Daria thought about this. There had been many grumblings in the celestial courts when she had been in Heaven. "The archangels rule the vastness of the Universe from above. Why shouldn't they also rule on Earth?"
"Because they do not, in fact, rule in Heaven. There is only one ruler of Heaven, as there is only one ruler of Earth. And we all serve that ruler by not questioning Her will." Rogette's voice deepened and a chill wind came up, biting into Daria's skin.
"With all due respect, Principality Rogette, I still do not see where this is leading."
"I hear Dominic's words in your voice. Dominic feels that there might be some connection with Principality Valnum and his former master, Archangel Novalis. Your lord is very ambitious. It is almost certain that if you are successful in restoring what others deem to be proper order in Santa Cruz, especially if you are able to help discredit both Valnum and Novalis, that Dominic will use the influence he gains to see that you will take Valnum's place as archon."
"Me?" It was the last thing she wanted to hear. She had hoped, that after serving for a time in the daemonae, she would be allowed to return to her studies in Heaven. "If true, I will serve. What else can I do?"
"I understand. But understand this also, Daresiel, that as archon, you would no longer be a servitor of your lord. While on Earth, rather, he would serve you."
Daria had a hard time imagining herself ever giving directions to Dominic.
"If an archangel, through good intentions or ambition, places a puppet into the Principalities, that archangel then would wield undue influence, both in Heaven, and on Earth."
"Principality Rogette, I think you ascribe too much to my lord. He is zealous, yes. And he has made many enemies, enemies who perhaps even poisoned what you have heard of him. But he does not wield undue influence. True, he is conducting a tribunal, but one sanctioned and overseen by the Seraphic Council. He is but one of many judges in that service."
Rogette took off her tattered hat and regarded it.
"Dominic, some say that with Archangel Uriel's attention elsewhere, that Dominic desires leadership of the Council of the Celestial Court. Some say that this tribunal, and those same who point to Dominic as its leader, will be the means to this end, and possibly to other ends as well."
Daria said nothing. But she thought much. What if Dominic did, she decided, want to take Uriel's place, at least his place at the Court? Uriel had joined Gabriel in disaffection, pouting that Man had been placed above the elohim. If Uriel was not willing to do his job, there were others, perhaps ultimately more capable. Her lord, was ready and willing to step in and lead where leadership was needed. Rogette was a fool if she thought this little chat was going to turn her from Dominic.
Daria felt that there was something being left unsaid. She finally decided to just come out and ask. "Principality Rogette, is there a history between you and my lord?"
"Dominic and I served together, in a time before your making. We were among those who branded the Grigori, binding some in chains, sending others to their banishment."
"I am honoured to be in your presence, Principality. My lord speaks highly of this service and recounted it to me once."
"Did he? Did he also tell you that we slaughtered the children of the Grigori, the Nephilim and the Anakim?"
"Yes. This was necessary. The Nephilim and Anakim were terrible creatures, abominations to God and elohim alike. They had to be destroyed."
"Did they? I wonder. We didn't destroy all of them, of course. Some escaped, and mated. And sometimes, even through the generations, a special child is born to Man. Do these also deserve that same fate?"
Daria thought uncomfortably about the manchild, Charlotte, at home. Fortunately, Charlotte had been born human. But even the thought that she might have been born tainted caused panic in Daria's human heart. Darlene was with her still, warring against her elohite nature. Less sure of her words for this subject, Daria nevertheless felt compelled to defend the orthodox viewpoint.
"The spawn of such unnatural progeny must be dealt with likewise. They are too powerful. Whenever the Enemy finds them first, they are made to serve him, with disastrous results for our kind. We in fact do these poor creatures a kindness to not let them fall into the Enemy's clutches."
"A kindness? Tell me, Seraph, have you ever been to Machon? Have you ever seen what waits them there?"
Daria shook her head. She had been to Machon. But she had only seen the fiery lights from the North when serving at the Celestial Court, this is from a great distance. But she had never been personal witness to what happened there.
"Then I suggest you reserve judgement until you have seen it for yourself. Maybe the fate we have chosen for the nephilim is not what they deserve. Perhaps they have a higher purpose that we have not ascertained and, perhaps, they were even sent to aid us."
"But God has spoken on this subject."
"You mean Metatron has spoken, on God's behalf. And even that Word is watered down by the Seraphic Council before it reaches our ears. Who is to say what God truly intended."
Blasphemy! Daria made a note to mention this conversation, in full detail, to her master. Perhaps Brooklyn too would require new leadership.
"You love Dominic very much. I can see that." Rogette stopped playing with her cap. "I want to tell you something, Daresiel. Dominic and I had a bit of a falling out in the past."
Daria had suspected this already, of course.
"Dominic thought I was too enamoured of a very recent human pastime, something they call baseball. Baseball is very popular among the elohim. We used to have a local team here. I was very proud of it. Dominic thought I was becoming too human in my passions, setting a bad example for the others. He used his influence to see that this one pastime was denied me. I think his intentions were good. I think he felt that I might better focus on what he determined were more proper duties. But he was wrong to interfere. And I was very angry. What he did not consider was that without the revenue and status from this team, my city suffered. I was very bitter of course, but I learned to let go. So, I hope you see what it is that I am saying to you."
"That archangels shouldn't interfere with the affairs of archons? Does that mean that archons have no accountability?"
"No, that's not what I'm saying." She put her cap back on. "I keep this cap and jacket as a reminder of what it costs us to keep a hold of things too dearly. See what it cost the Grigori, who maybe when everything is said, are only guilty of having loved too much."
Daria looked down at the grigori, dogging the footsteps of humans they watched. Occasionally, one would touch a human, who would walk on, unable to know or care that an eloha had taken interest in him.
"When your time comes, Seraph, remember to let go of that which you love. Otherwise, your love, innocent and pure, will drag you down, and others with you."
"Thank you for your advice, Principality Rogette," Daria said, trying to sound sincere.
Rogette just looked at her without comment.
story by Solanio