As always, my first words are to thank you for all of your support. I am really, really grateful for all of your reviews (btw, BloodHeron, I didn't find you pushy. Your enthusiasm just convinced me that maybe people wouldn't mind if the story was this long, and that I could keep Sara's and David's presences in the chapter without scaring too many people away with the word count). As for Aditu, 2sidez-Samecoin, Tegaladwen, thank you very much for your faithful reviews. I hope you know I much I am expecting what each of you has to say each time I post a new chapter. Thank you also to Ami Mettallium, another late review that has been a very sweet surprise.
This (very long) story is coming to an end quite soon, like 2 more chapters to go after this one. I hope you enjoy the conclusion I am giving it despite the fact that some of my readers appeared to think that "Life goes on" would have made a fit ending.
Chapter 12. Death comes
Atsanit aged quickly; she knew not if it was to have been so close to death so many times, or her time in Heaven or in Hell, or the Hellhammer's magic, or the vanquishing of the Three. She was looking much older than she was, and her forces were waning rapidly. At forty-four, she could no longer guard the doors, not even if sharing the duty with Makiri as she was now. She did not possess the strength to wear her ancient armour, Victors silk, anymore. She turned to teaching all the time; in her old age she developed a fond affection for the youngest of the girls, that loved her as they would a grand-mother.
A few years later again, one day of the rainy season of the jungle where lived the Zann Esu, in this village where she had grown up and came back after her adventures were over, she found she could not stand out of her bed. She had felt her end coming closer for many days now. Old, old wounds had started to put her in pain again after thirty years of peace. Often her thoughts turned to the past, and she recognized in herself the tendency of old people to do so.
This morning, she called Makiri to her bed; they had grown a great friendship in their shared duty at the doors. The young Zann Esu cried as her elder told her that her end was upon her. The old woman's calm was to be admired, her serenity faced with death. She put her wrinkled hand on Makiri's bent head.
"Do not fear," she said. It was one of her favourite phrases; she had instructed it to everyone at least once. "I have faced many great dangers, and I have had much time to make peace with death."
Makiri forced her tears to stop. She was a courageous young woman, and she dried her face. She looked up to her elder.
"I know, mistress Atsanit. But I grieve that you will leave us, and I will miss you."
A kind smile curled up the wrinkled face; her wrinkles told of how she smiled. "Thank you, Makiri. Your affection has been a comfort for this old heart in the last years."
"Everyone likes you, mistress Atsanit," Makiri said, a smile on her face.
"Well, not David, but I don't mind him too much."
"Who?", Makiri asked, puzzled.
"Nevermind," Atsanit brushed the matter aside. "Would you be kind, dear, and bring me a little of water?"
Makiri stood, and went to the house's kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. The old woman took the glass, and Makiri helped her to drink.
"Would you help me, and bring me my old cape?", Atsanit asked again. "The one pinned to the wall. I would… touch it again, to remember…" She trailed off.
Makiri went to undo the pins that were holding the magnificent, emerald-green cape from the wall. It had seen many battles, as the few sewn parts told, and it had been worn a lot, because the velvet was worn out at the shoulders, but Atsanit had always displayed it in her room with pride. Makiri took it with care, and spread it over the frail body of Atsanit, thinking she was cold.
To her surprise, the elder Sorceress pulled the side of it to her face, and buried her face into it. Makiri heard the deep breaths of her elder, as though she was about to cry. She put a hand on her friend's shoulder; she did not understand her sudden unshed tears, because she had been peaceful and strong up to this point. Makiri did not say a word. She knew next to nothing of the adventuring years of Atsanit, despite the fact that it was known to the whole Sanctuary that she had vanquished the Three Prime Evils in a one-on-one combat. Makiri could not imagine what the world must have looked like while the Three roamed the land freely, and Atsanit had faced it and survived it, but she had never explained her adventures. Makiri sensed this particular display had to do with her untold adventures, but she would not pry. She just stayed there in comfort of her friend.
Atsanit thought back to Tyrael. She thought back of her life; she had been trained a Zann Esu, had embarked on a quest she had no idea would get her so far, she had vanquished the Three Prime Evils. She had loved an Archangel, showing to one of Heaven's creatures what love was. She had been the guardian of the doors, protecting the Zann Esu against countless threats and dangers along the years. She had been the Ice mistress, and an important counsellor, and had been loved by the young girls to whom she taught. Her life was something she was proud of, and she remembered in a flash the revelation in Tal Rasha's tomb. If it was a presence anything like Tyrael's that awaited her beyond, there was nothing to be feared in death.
"It is not true that I dislike you, Slayer Atsanit," David said to the elder Sorceress, unseen and unheard by Makiri. "I have disagreed with you in the past, but I respect and admire your accomplishments." He put a hand on the other shoulder of Atsanit, and the angel's touch calmed her.
"Thank you," she just answered, knowing both would understand. Her vision was getting darker. She saw Makiri's eyes fill with tears again. Other Sorceresses were standing in the doorway, but no one entered, seeing the intimate moment between the mistress and pupil.
And, suddenly, the situation took a turn to the unexpected. The women by the door suddenly scattered with sounds of awe, and light filled the doorway. Makiri turned confused eyes to the door, but blinked in front of the brilliance.
"My hour has finally come," Atsanit said then, her voice very calm. "I did not… expect you to come."
Makiri turned back to Atsanit when she heard her strange sentence and, with a shock, she saw a brilliant silhouette on the other side of the bed. She understood instantly that it must be an angel from the wings of light that were deployed behind him. She gasped, looking at the beautiful man holding Atsanit's shoulder. The angel looked briefly at her, then let go of Atsanit's shoulder and got down on one knee, bowing his head with deep respect towards the light in the doorway.
"Milord," the angel said.
Makiri looked at the being that the angel was addressing. Another angel, she saw with a shock, although this one was very different. His presence was much stronger; he was taller, his wings were more brilliant and taller, moving around him with majesty. He was also hooded, which took nothing of his grandeur, and wore a complete, brilliant armour.
"At ease, David," the other angel said.
The angel that had been present at first stood up and took a respectful step back, before he left the room. The other, more grandiose angel floated forward slowly, a filament of his wings coming to touch the Ice mistress's cheek. She smiled.
"Tyrael," she murmured, her voice very low.
Makiri felt really foolish all of a sudden, not to have understood that she faced an Archangel.
"Yes, my love," was the Archangel's answer. Makiri stood there, amazed, as Tyrael floated across the room, and sat lightly on the other side of Atsanit's bed, taking one of her hands with both of his.
"It will be… reassuring to be taken away by you," Atsanit said. "I would… see your face once again, if you would allow me."
Then Makiri felt rooted in her spot as the Archangel's head turned to her. He was looking at her, and she felt pierced through by his gaze, that she could not even see.
"Leave us, please, young Sorceress," he ordered her.
She stood up before she found her voice. Then she said to Atsanit: "Good bye, mistress Atsanit."
"Good bye, Makiri."
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So… every story has to have an end. I don't usually get so far into my character's lives, but this one was just too good to miss – loving an Archangel, you've got to expect to cross him again in the afterlife…(and impossible love would be way too tragic an ending for my tastes (-; ) So, you'll see what happens after this next week! (time to get another part of the story "decanted" and proofread)
