CHAPTER 2: The trial of the Celestial Court

- A trial! - Horror became completely visible on Aziraphale's face, who had stopped dead, unable to keep walking.

A trial carried out by the Supreme Celestial Court signified that one of the angels had infringed the Divine Law and would consequently receive a terrible punishment

When he accepted the mission of being the new Supreme Archangel, Aziraphale already knew about the existence and functioning of those trials but, carried away by his initial illusion, he thought that he would also be able to change that. After all, it had been a long time since the last serious conflict they had in Heaven. Furthermore, what terrible crimes could an angel commit? The same ones he had been blamed for? That was not enough reason to convict anyone and the rest of the Court, in view of recent events, would have to understand that. But…

Until then, he had been fortunate that no lese majeste "crimes" had been committed under his command and he was convinced that, when the time came, he would manage to save the situation in a much more merciful way than his predecessor. But now, after seeing how all his kind-hearted plans had been thwarted, he was no longer sure about it. He felt a horrible sensation of panic, as if, instead of walking through the Seventh Heaven alongside the Metatron, he was falling helplessly into the Infinite Abyss.

- What's with that surprise? We have always held trials and your duty as the Supreme Archangel is to preside over them.

- I know, but… But… I don't… I can't… I'm not qualified for it, sir.

- Oh, calm down. You'll do it very well.

- It's just that I… I… The truth is I would rather not do it.

- Yes, I know you would rather not.

Impassive, Metatron's head had continued advancing through the great white immensity, ignoring Aziraphale's pleas, until he reached a crystal portal of pharaonic dimensions that opened before him.

Frightened and helpless, Aziraphale followed him into the meeting room, which was no longer a meeting room, but a colossal courtroom with towering white dais. There he encountered the most threatening scenario he had seen in a long, long time.

To the right, standing and dressed in silver togas, were the archangels. They were clearly waiting for them. Michael did not hide one bit the satisfaction that seeing Aziraphale in that situation caused her. Uriel held him a cold, distant gaze, as if she were challenging him to rise to the occasion. Sariel seemed, simply, resigned to what was inevitable.

To the left, in the platform of the accused, there was a small seraph who did not dare to raise her eyes from the ground. She was thin and slender, with long honey-colored hair and freckles on her nose and cheeks.

Not knowing what to do, Aziraphale looked desperately at the Metatron in a last attempt to find some kind of help.

- Oh, I just came here to look - And, calmly, the floating head rose a few more meters, adopting with indolence the role of a spectator.

Take your place as the judge of this court, Supreme Archangel - Michael said, pointing with her right hand to the presidential platform and accompanying her gesture with an evil grin.

Unable to find a way to scape from that nightmare scenario, Aziraphale hesitantly advanced towards the podium. When he reached the top of the pulpit, an assistant angel helped him to put on his corresponding silver toga.

- Tha… Ahem, thank you.

- Here are the minutes, sir.

The assistant angel placed before him a thick book in which the sin committed by the seraph they were judging was recorded. Trembling, Aziraphale opened it, as the archangels took their seats in the jury box.

Apparently Aysel, the seraph accused of disobedience and betrayal, had been sent to Earth to serve as an inspiration and Guardian Angel for Ephraim, a young chef from Liverpool who was destined to eclipse all the great chefs who had gone down in history until that moment and to become an international media star. Unfortunately, Ephraim's nature was that of a perfectly calm and unambitious person, which meant that he would not develop the talent he had been blessed with beyond what he considered necessary.

That had been Aysel's mission: to encourage her protégé to reach his full potential, achieve success and become who he was supposed to be.

What no one had foreseen was that, being in touch with her assigned human, Aysel would also develop the pleasure for little things. The seraph had learnt to love the peace of everyday life, the slow passing by of placid days in his company and to enjoy the modest recipes Ephraim lovingly cooked for her. Because, in effect, the entire divine plan had gone to waste and Ephraim had ended up sweetly loving Aysel and, Aysel, loving Ephraim. She had left behind the reason that brought her to Earth and her only wish was to see time passing by beside the person she loved so much.

- I… The truth is… I'm a little confused…

- Zero units of surprise - Michael mumbled, sarcastically, so the rest of the jury members could hear her.

- I thought… Ahem… I thought we were here to judge a sin - Aziraphale sat as upright as confusion and fear allowed him, trying to conquer at least a shred of authority in that room - And here (nervous laugh) I don't see such a thing.

Archangel Raziel's listless voice rose to clarify the situation.

- Minor angel Aysel has failed in her duties towards her Great Omnipotence. She has ignored the mission she was sent to Earth for and has established unauthorized relations with a mortal.

"Unauthorized relations?" Aziraphale, trembling, turned a few more pages of the minutes to see if he could discover what they were talking about, until he found it. Yes, apparently, Aysel and her human had shared… more than a kiss. Things were looking bad for the seraph.

- Well, but… Hehe… We don't need to go crazy about this - Immediately, all the archangels turned to look at him with scandalized disapproval - I mean… Anyway… Well, actually, this was not so much as a sin as an Act of Love… - The eyebrows of the archangels raised and they looked at each other in stupor - That is to say… Aysel acted out of love. If she has disobeyed, it has been out of love. Is it not true? She considered her human's happiness more important than the fact that…

- You said it yourself! She disobeyed! - Michael had jumped to his feet and was pointing accusingly at the seraph.

- Yes… Um… It's not necessary to raise your voice, Michael.

- Are you perhaps going to allow contempt, insubordination, anarchy?

- Of course not, but…

- But what?

- What I'm trying to say, Michael, if you allow me… - Aziraphale tried to continue explaining his reasoning with a forced smile. He was feeling like slapping Michael and he felt guilty about it - … That guy… Ephraim… He doesn't even want to be famous or anything like that. His Guardian Angel has only prioritized what makes her protégé actually happy because… because… she loves him! Isn't that a good reason?

- Direct orders of her Great Omnipotence always have priority over the desires of humans, angels and every creature of Creation. This is the Law and this is how it is written - it was Uiel who responded.

- That 's right. - Seconded archangel Raphael - Be it as it may, it was not up to her to make that decision. That is the Law.

- But… It's just that… - Aziraphale no longer knew what to do. He stuttered and gestured in the air trying to make sense of it all - Let's see, let's see… We are angels. We are… We are creatures of love. How…? How are we going to punish an Act of Love?!

In the midst of his anguish, Aziraphale asked this question looking directly at Sariel, the only one he could consider, even slightly, his ally. Sariel looked away, unable to meet Aziraphale's pleading gaze. She signed with resignation, and said the only thing she dared to say.

- This is the Law and this is how it is written, Supreme Archangel.

Michael didn't even give Aziraphale time to recover from the blow.

- Yes, that is the Law. And you are responsible for enforcing it!

- What? - Horror was clearly present in Aziraphale's voice.

The rest of the archangels nodded solemnly. They were all stony faces, arrogant, merciless. It was clear that they all wanted a guilty verdict and that they were not going to let anything or anyone deprive them of the satisfaction of that demonstration of power.

- No… Please, no…

Trembling from head to toe, Aziraphale stood up and addressed his prayer to the only one who, at that point, could help him. But the Metatron simply raised his eyebrows in a "it is what it is" gesture.

- Please, don't make me do it - He pleaded.

- Boy, every job has an unpleasant part - Replied his superior with a touch of impatience in his voice.

There was no escape. He was trapped. He looked at the seraph, who was still on the defendant's platform, awaiting her inevitable fate. He could feel the archangels' eyes on him, urging him to do what they considered to be his duty. And even without seeing it, he could feel the broad smile of triumph of hateful Michael.

With the movements of an automaton, he raised his hand and opened it, directing the palm in the direction of the seraph.

- You, angel Aysel… - He began to say, as if his voice no longer belonged to him - You have infringed the divine and earthly laws - She looked up at him for the first time - The Supreme Celestial Court declares you guilty and your punishment will be reflected in the Book of Life - She looked so small, so helpless, so resigned… - You, Aysel… You will never have existed.

And that was it. The little seraph disappeared, vanished without a trace, and it all was over.

Aziraphale slumped in his chair with a blank stare. Everything was spinning around him. He realized that he could no longer even remember the name of the being he had just judged and condemned. He only had the consciousness of having ended a life.

He watched as the assistant angel closed and picked up the minute book. The same angel offered to help him to take off his toga but Aziraphale, still upset, dismissed him with a vague gesture. Distantly, the voices of the archangels reached him, commenting with satisfaction on the process and, above all them, the deep voice of the Metatron saying that they had all done a good job and that they could go to the adjoining room, where a snack based on holy water and manna awaited them.

All that was absurd. Nothing made sense.

He was horrified, horrified by what had just happened, horrified by everything around him and horrified by himself.

Stumbling, he got off the platform. He crossed the courtroom without looking at anyone and trying to keep his legs from failing him. When he opened the doors he heard Michael's mocking voice throwing some hurtful comment at him, but he could not and did not bother to distinguish her words.

He left there and began to walk faster, clumsily removing the silver toga he was still wearing and letting it float behind him.

Faster, faster. He ran desperately until he reached the place he was looking for: the elevator door. He placed both hands on it, trying to recover a little from all that horror, but he knew he didn't have much time. He pressed the button insistent and desperately begging, he didn't really know who, for the elevator to arrive on time and take him out of there. Just as the doors opened, he heard behind him the sound of different footsteps approaching. He turned and saw the archangels swarming toward him, the Metatron's head hovering looming above them.

- No. No!

He threw himself into the elevator, colliding with the back wall, and with the same urgency as before he pressed the down button.

The last thing Aziraphale saw before the doors closed completely was the Metatron's head, with an angry expression, lunging at him.

The elevator began its descent.

- I made it, I made it… - He whispered gasping.

He leaned his back against the elevator wall and let his body slide to the floor. His poor legs could no longer support him. He knew this would be the end of him, that Heaven would not allow him any more slights, but he did not plan to return. All he could do was to make a good use of the time he had left.


Well, here is chapter 2. What do you thing Aziraphale will do next?

As I said, all opnion and correction comments will be welcome.

VASLAV