Seraphim
Trifecta Snippet #3
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Penemue, Baraqiel, and Shemhazi were, if they were going to be entirely honest with themselves, still in shock. It had been hardly a day since they had found out that their eldest sister was not just alive, but had returned to their plane of existence, and they weren't entirely sure what to think about it.
On the one hand, despite her rampant thefts from all three factions, none of them would ever consider her an enemy. One of the things that had gotten Azrael into so much trouble in the first place was her love for her family, both mortal and divine. The way she took that love, and the responsibility that she felt came with it, to the extreme. Her greatest virtue and most dangerous vice.
On the other hand, however, she had stolen many powerful artifacts from all three factions before she and her two compatriots had vanished into the Dimensional Rift. Artifacts that were literally irreplaceable, that had helped the factions protect themselves and those loyal to them. Artifacts she had taken without warning, without providing cause, and without apology.
According to Azazel, that last point certainly hadn't changed over much in the last few centuries. She regretted hurting them, but she didn't regret doing what she had done despite what it had resulted in. That wasn't particularly surprising either, even if was somewhat galling. Azrael had always been the type to stick with her convictions, and quite literally damn the consequences. Indeed, it was only the purity of her cause, her whole-hearted good intentions, that had prevented her from becoming a Devil like their kin.
None of the past, none of what she had done, however, negated the fact that she was their sister and was either imprisoned or too grievously injured to reach them, either physically or with a proper telepathic connection. Neither one of those options were a good one, and not only because something that could do such a thing to the Angel of Death herself posed an existential threat not seen since the end of the Great War of Heaven and Earth. Depending on who had her and what their intentions were, the entire situation could be the match that restarted the war and set all Creation ablaze once more. If not because that was their own goal, but because those who loved Azrael would kick the war off themselves just to get her back.
It was, perhaps, fortunate that they had no idea how to identify Azrael's interlocutor or location just yet. It would give all of them time to come to grips with what was going on and (hopefully) cool off a little.
"Alright, Penny, you're the smart one. What's the plan to bail Azrael out this time?" Baraqiel asked with a wry twist of his mouth, the ghost of an amusement he really didn't feel, despite the reference to the constant trouble that Azrael had made a habit of getting herself into, even before The War.
"I don't know. There are few enough outside the four of us that I would trust with this information. Certainly not Kokabiel or any of his lot, he was never particularly fond of her." His sister responded, brow furrowed with thoughts deep enough that she entirely forgot to protest the use of the exasperating nickname. The two men had to admit that that, most certainly, was true. Kokabiel hadn't been on of the original Fallen, and his reasons for doing so had been a great deal shallower and selfish than Azrael was happy with, and his behavior since then (like his utter disregard for the truce and his vocal desires for the war to be restarted) hadn't improved anyone's opinion of him that wasn't a low-ranking grunt with delusions of grandeur. All three of them paused for a moment as a though occurred simultaneously.
"Chances that Kokabiel is somehow behind all of this?" Shemhazi asked, in a tone of voice that said the man didn't think it remotely likely, but felt he had to ask anyway.
"Kokabiel, take Azrael down, put her on the level that she can't even talk to Zaz, just send him emotions? Perhaps in a few hundred thousand human lifetimes, if Azrael was in some sort of coma the entire time and woke up without anything remaining of her brain." Baraqiel promptly dismissed the very notion out of hand, Penemue nodding with a faint sniff of derision. "No, the only people who could really do something like that are the great Dragons, Michael, Gabriel, and maybe some of the Maou. And if either Heaven or Hell had fought a pitched battle with Azrael, half of Creation would know about it and the other half would be a crater."
"She did disappear into the Dimensional Rift. Great Red or Ophis could have taken issue with her trespass and attacked her." Penemue, pointed out, and this time it was Shemhazi who shook his head and refuted the idea.
"I think not. They could have beaten her, of course, but Zaz said she felt angry and afraid and trapped. Neither Ophis nor Great Red would bother keeping her imprisoned if they wanted to do something about her, they would have kicked her out of their realm or killed her outright. Besides, Zaz said that she hated whoever had her. I think that's important. There…aren't a lot of people that I think our sister could hate anymore."
Because everyone they could think of off the tops of their heads were dead and had been for millennia, was the thought that they all had, but didn't give voice. With all the original Maou, Lucifer in particular, dead during The War, the overwhelming majority of the people that Azrael could legitimately said to hate were long gone.
"Could she have been weakened by fighting a greater threat, such as the dragons, and then captured before she could recover? It would certainly explain why we have no information of a battle of sufficient significance to indicate our sister being fought and beaten." Baraqiel proposed, and there was another moment of quiet contemplation before all three nodded in unison. Of all the proposed theories, this one made the most sense. It would explain both Azrael's apparent weakness and her survival quite neatly.
Unfortunately, it also meant that their pool of potential suspects had actually broadened rather than shrunk, because they could no longer limit themselves only to those that could fight Azrael on equal footing.
"So, that brings us back to figuring out a solution. No matter who has her, how they have her, or why they have her, we can't do a damn thing until we find her. So how do we do that?" Penemue brought their focus back to where it ought to be with a slight clap of her hands. "I imagine that our best chance would be to try and reforge our own connections with Azrael, something that should be quite possible. We'll need to keep it shallow, however, and go one at a time. Azazel already said that trying to deepen his connection to Azrael caused our sister significant pain."
"Should you go first, then? Not only are you the most experienced with this sort of thing, I think Shemhazi will agree with me that your control is beyond anything that he or I possess." Baraqiel suggested, Shemhazi nodding in agreement, and Penemue made a thoughtful noise in response to the suggestion.
On the one hand, she was probably the best option to observe a link externally, for the purposes of being able to properly analyze it and discern how best to strengthen it or mitigate any negative results. It could be very easy to miss things from the inside, as it were, after all. People outside of a situation could often see and recognize things that someone more integrated in the situation would be oblivious to.
On the other, she was also the best option to forge the first link, not just for the reasons Baraqiel had listed, but also (amusingly, given her previous thoughts) because watching the bond shift and flux as she tweaked it from the inside could provide her valuable insight.
Not to mention the fact that, if Azrael was as weak or as bound as they all feared, there might be a limit to the number of people she could forge this sort of connection with given her current weakness, in which case waiting until the end could prove disastrous to their efforts. No, it was likely that Baraqiel had the right of things. She should go first, and she would.
"Agreed. I need two days to square away my responsibilities in such a way that I can avoid any suspicion falling on me. The three of us and Azazel will meet again then and begin the process of saving our sister." The Chief Secretary decreed, having made her decision, and she waited for her brothers to voice their acknowledgements before teleporting away. An instant later, she was half-way across the world, standing on the deserted beach of a small island in the Pacific. One too small and out of the way to be remotely relevant to the world as a whole, it had become her personal piece of paradise in the mortal realm, and she didn't even have to ward it to keep it that way.
More than a paradise, however, it had become her sanctuary. A place that was hers, and hers alone. A quiet, peaceful place where she could come to be away from everything and everyone and just think. Or, for that matter, not think at all, for once in her very, very long life. A place where she could put aside the prim and proper image of the Chief Secretary of the Grigori, put aside the stern, blood-drenched Fallen Angel Penemue, and just be Penny. A beautiful, quiet girl who loved her siblings and, despite everything, desperately missed her Father.
And oh, did she miss Him. She wondered, often, what He would think about His children now. And not just those divinities that He had shaped with His own hands, like she and her siblings. What would He think, she asked herself, about Humanity? What would He think of their innovations, their incredible curiosity, their heartwarming acts of kindness, and their horrific acts of cruelty? Would He love them still, as He had when He had first crafted them in His image?
Would He be disappointed in her, in Azazel, in all the rest of her siblings, for not stepping in to protect the Sons and Daughters of Adam and Eve from themselves? Or would He be pleased that they had learned from the lessons He had imparted on them so many ages past when Azrael had led them to Fall?
Pushing the gnawing thoughts, so often lurking within the depths of her mind, aside for the moment, she took a deep breath of the warm ocean air and smile a small but genuine smile.
That particular existential crisis, and more besides, could wait for the time being. This was her time to relax, to find something resembling inner peace for as long as she could possibly manage before her inevitable and all-too-soon return to the grind of helping keep Creation spinning.
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"Something significant is happening with our Fallen siblings atop the Grigori." Raziel, the Angel of Mysteries, one of the Ten Seraphs of Heaven, introduced himself to the Sixth Heaven with characteristic bluntness. One might have thought that the seraph that was in charge of Heaven's intelligence operations would be a more subtle and circumspect individual, but he had long been of the opinion that subtlety and circumspection were for his agents or the rare times that he actually took to the field himself.
His siblings, who had been chatting casually amongst themselves as they awaited, all fell silent and stared at him with mingled confusion, surprise, and amusement. All of which he steadfastly ignored with the ease of long, long practice as he made his way across the intervening space to join them.
"Azazel summoned Penemue, Baraqiel, and Shemhazi quite suddenly to a meeting. What was discussed, I could not discover, but the latter three left looking very shaken and very serious indeed, and Azazel has not left his office since." He continued as he walked, taking a long pause when he finally arrived, before repeating himself and stressing the words to underline their seriousness. "Something significant is happening."
The room was silent for a long moment as what he was saying, sparse though information might be, sank in. Raziel was not prone to paranoia or flights of fancy, and he certainly didn't make a habit of bringing anything to the rest of the seraphim if he didn't consider it important or to have some manner of basis to it. Unless he thought something significant was happening amongst the Grigori, and given the names he had listed there had to be, he wouldn't mention it at a meeting like this. Certainly not by way of introducing himself to the room.
"Is there any sign that they are preparing for offensive actions?" Michael asked seriously after a long moment of silence, and Raziel shook his head.
"No, nor any signs that they are defending themselves from another faction. In fact, none of my agents amongst the whole of Creation have reported anything that would lead to such an urgent meeting." He responded, and a murmur flowed through the room as the gathered leaders of the Hosts of Heaven considered that fact.
To most people, not possessing information of potential or active conflict would be considered a good thing. However, for a man in Raziel's position, a total lack of information in regards to the cause of such a reaction was deeply concerning. In intelligence work, silence meant only one of two things: first, that nothing significant was happening. Second, that what was happening was so monumental (which usually meant dangerous and world-altering in some way) that it was being kept under so strict an order of silence that no hint escaped.
Even amongst more militant organizations, rumor and whisper were almost impossible to quash, and often partial truths or outright falsehoods were deliberately released to control information or to allow those in charge to get their fingers on the pulse of subordinates. For there to be no information at all spoke to how serious the situation was…and how potentially dangerous it might be.
But dangerous for whom? The Fallen alone? That was the best case scenario, even if it would inevitably lead to worsening conditions as other factions jockeyed for position thanks to a sudden weakening of one of the 'Big Three' supernatural powers.
All three of the Abrahamic factions? It was hard to imagine that, were there an existential threat to all three of them, Azazel wouldn't at least inform Heaven about it. There was a rift between them, certainly, but the Fallen by their very nature were not inherently oriented towards wickedness.
A threat to Creation as a whole? Unfathomable, Azazel would have informed not just the Three Factions but every one of the lesser pantheons that he could get his hands on. No matter how nebulous the information, or perhaps especially if it was nebulous, he would have recruited anyone and everyone that he could to preserve Father's works and all the creatures that lived within it.
Yet, if those options were eliminated…
"What could be going on?" Remiel voiced the thought that was on all of their minds, an unhappy frown marring her beautiful face as she considered the situation and their sparse information.
"Maybe it's entirely internal? Some sort of issue with other members of the Grigori? I'm sure we're all aware that plenty of Fallen weren't happy about Azazel calling for peace with the Devils. Perhaps he is having to deal with some rabble-rousing?" Sariel proposed, and there was a murmur of consideration before the gathered angels began throwing out theories and dismissing others, which quickly started to degenerate into arguments. Michael couldn't resist shaking his head in mild exasperation, wryly amused by the fact that his beloved siblings, for all their 'confidence' in neither suffering from mankind's failings nor the Grigori's 'lack of control', were really little different in so many ways from Fallen Angels and mortals both.
Small wonder that mortals struggled to understand Heaven's desires without his Father present, without His guiding hand keeping things consistent and coherent. Small wonder that Heaven struggled to get anything done, either, when the world wasn't at risk. Michael lacked the divine loyalty their Father had held, and certainly lacked His wisdom. He couldn't lead as effortlessly as He had, and He wasn't inclined to impose his will like a tyrant either.
The downside of those facts, of course, was that things could, on occasions such as now, get somewhat out of hand.
"That's enough." A soft, sweet voice cut through the din effortlessly, and all fell silent as every eye turned towards the speak. Gabriel, Voice of God and The One Who Speaks For Heaven, was the most beautiful of all Father's children. Michael couldn't even imagine the number of times she had appeared before a human and reduced them to tears of awe (and jealousy) through nothing more than her sheer magnificent looks. Of course, his sweet, loving sister had no notion of that fact, and to this day remained convinced that their tears were borne of sheer terror.
'Be not afraid', he reflected wryly, was one of the biggest misunderstandings of Abrahamic faith. And it wasn't as if he hadn't tried to explain things to his sister, either, she just never seemed to grasp his point. It was as cute as it was exasperating, if he was going to be honest, and where the two emotions had once warred with one another they now co-existed alongside almost constant bemusement.
"It is obvious that none of us know what is happening, nor do we have sufficient information to speculate in a reasonable way. Therefore, I will go and speak with Azazel and my other brothers and sisters personally." Gabriel decreed, in a tone of voice that she only rarely used. A tone of voice that reminded everyone that while Michael was the highest ranking amongst the angels and second only to Father, it had always been Gabriel that spoke for Him. Oh yes, Michael led the Angels of Heaven, but it was Gabriel who gave them direction.
Several of the host attempted to protest, but were almost immediately silenced by her upraised hand and unusually stern demeanor. It was obvious that she was totally uninterested in having a discussion or any sort of commentary about the situation.
"I will not sit in silence and wait for the world to change, even break, around us. We are the Host of Heaven, the Angels of the Almighty God. We shall discover what is happening and, if it should become necessary, obey our mandate to protect Creation and all of Father's Children that reside within it." She continued, wings revealing themselves and splaying wide, shining like the purest silver beneath the rays of the sun. "This meeting is adjourned until I return."
The flash of light that heralded her departure was blinding in its radiance, bright enough that even Michael found himself rubbing spots out of his eyes. Once they were clear, he found himself the center of the room's attention, every eye waiting to see what he would say or do in response to his fellow seraph's actions.
"My sister is correct. All Heavenly forces are to standby for further instructions. Anyone that hears any information that is remotely out of the ordinary is to report it at once. Something is going on, something important, and even if the Grigori provide Gabriel with the information she is looking for, I will not be complacent with gathering more. Dismissed." He ordered with a calm he did not entirely feel. One and all, regardless of rank, they saluted and departed. A cascade of flickering lights ran across the room, and when the last one faded he found himself alone. Sighing tiredly, he turned his eyes to the gate leading to the Seventh Heaven, to his Father's throne.
"What comes, Father?" he murmured, and even to his own ears he sounded adrift, lost. "What comes now, after so many centuries of peace? Whatever it is, I pray that it will improve Creation, not destroy it."
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Well, there you go. A nice little check in with the people back in the world of High School D X D!