Previously: Five centuries after the Apocalypse and the resurrections, a Flood is ordered to destroy the Mother of Monsters and her children. Siosp violently objects to it, and is sent to be rehabilitated. Anael possesses a Human to order the Humans and Noah to build arches.
oOo
The Flood
Cold air whistles between my feathers as gusts of rain relentlessly lash down on me. Glowing bright with my Grace, torrents of water are streaming down my face and back. The stormy ocean covering the Earth offers the stunning, awe-inspiring view of a dark body of water bristling with waves all the way to the horizon. The Lord's Creation, submerged in liquid death.
A thick blanket of dark clouds is swallowing up the sky and blocking sunlight, moving and drifting like bowels and belching out downpours and lightning bolts. The world has been wiped out of life, reduced to gray scale shadows that ephemeral flashes of lightning saturate with white. Now and then a ray of sunlight pierces through the clouds into a vibrant and bright column, but it never lasts more than a few seconds.
The Angels of the Garrison are currently the only source of light on Earth. Not as beacons of life and hope, but as death carriers. Our Graces illuminate the water ahead and the floating tree branches, carcasses half-eaten by sharks, swollen dead human bodies with their eyes rolled upwards.
While the Flood is drowning all Creatures of God as well as the monsters of the Mother of All, our mission is to fly all around the Earth tracking down survivors and killing them on sight. We are the only Angels left on Earth right now, on the orders of God, all of our other brothers are holed up in Heaven. I can hear them whispering into my head even through the thunder rumbling and the rain lashing down.
We're not longer concealing our true appearance. There's no need to. The chosen ones are safe, locked up into their arks with instructions to never, ever, look outside.
A gust of wind throws me off balance and I struggle to go back to my position in our group flight. Together, we slice through the air in a V shape led by Anna. She evacuated Yaël's body weeks ago before the waters started rising – the Human is now safe inside one of the arks – but she insisted that we continue using feminine pronouns and the shortened version of her name. We're starting to get used to this new eccentricity of hers.
A lightning bolt tears through the sky and strikes Zedekiel so hard it throws him out of the group. He comes back two seconds later in a flurry of wings with his feathers all fluffed up and eyes narrowed in frustration.
"And that's seven for Zedekiel!" Uriel chuckles.
Zedekiel bristles and tries very hard to keep his dignity by acting as though nothing had happened and affecting to scan the stormy ocean while his feathers are smoothing back down.
"Htmorda is still leading with nine lightning strikes to his credit, followed by Zedekiel, Ephra and Levanael!" Rachel trumpets with a playful wink.
"Oh be quiet, Rachel," Htmorda snorts. "The last three times I was struck, it was because you were blocking me with your cumbersome wings!"
"Such a sore loser."
Htmorda shoves Rachel out of the group.
"You breed with the mouth of a goat!"
I can't help laughing along with my brothers, and the sound covers the roaring of thunder. Rachel flies back in place and gives Htmorda a shove in retaliation. Anna throws a severe look at us, but the glimmer of mirth in her eyes is not lost on me.
"Hold your position, soldiers. Zedekiel, Htmorda, I'll register you both to a special training to improve your dodging skills once the Flood is over."
As a loyal soldier of God, I've been trying to stay focus on the Mission and not get distracted by the game, even though we haven't seen any survivor for the last two days. But I can't help feeling a rush of pride about not letting the lightning strike me once. I always manage to anticipate thunderbolts just in time to get out of the way. Only Miz and Anna have been as successful as me so far.
A cloud starts to glow and I swerve to the left, making a narrow escape from the sudden blast of a lightning blot slashing through the air just where I should have been.
"Nice dodge, Cas!"
The General just praised me. My Grace is glowing with delight and I can feel my feathers fluffing up, but I get a grip on myself and flap back into the group, eyes once again on the stormy body of water.
It has been a week now since it started raining. On the first day, the Humans did not worry. While Noah, his sons – Sem, Cham and Japhet – and their wives stepped into the ark with all of the animals they could find, everyone else just remained inside their fragile houses and waited for the downpour to stop. But it didn't stop. On the second day once the chosen ones where all secured into their ships, heavy rain poured down. The rivers and lakes overflowed, the oceans rose, invading more of the lands with every second passing by. Animals found refuge on the heights while the Humans, increasingly worried, climbed on the roof of their houses. Many of those who had heard of the arks desperately tried to climb on board. We killed on sight any of them who dared come too close, making them drop dead before they even had a chance to reach salvation, regardless of whether they were human or monster, adult or child. Every single one. For orders are orders.
The rising water levels reached the top of the highest mountains where a few hundreds of animals and perceptive Humans had escaped to safety. We stood idly by, listening to their cries of distress and watching them tear themselves apart to climb on floating tree trunks. And finally, as the last of them stayed afloat, looking up to the sky with pleading eyes and whispered prayers, we pushed them one by one into the deep water until they drowned.
Now and then we find some that are still alive. In most cases, it turns out to be creatures of the Mother of All, more resilient than Humans are.
"Over there!"
Htmorda is indicating a direction with a wave of his hand, and we all rectify our course like a single entity, diving straight to the water and slowing down to a halt just above the surface with our wings widely spread to maintain our position. The rolling water is glowing bright with our reflection as we surround a small rowing boat where a dozen of exhausted mortals are crammed together. A bunch of them start screaming in agony at our sight, eye sockets bursting into flames. A man throws himself into the water to get away from our brightness and gets sucked into the deep. What strikes me the most is a man and a woman who have been clever enough to shield their eyes as well as their child's – they're holding the little boy tight in their arms. Their souls look pure and bright. I lean forward to brush against them with the tip of my finger, eyes dropping close when a stream of interlaced memories flows into me with a thousand colors and the heady scent of spices, honey and sun. All it takes is a split second to explore their short lives and reach a conclusion.
"These ones have not been corrupted by the Mother of All." I'm trying my best to ignore the howls of pain that rise in reaction to the sound of my voice. "They're Humans."
All of the survivors we executed those last two days had been abominations. But these ones are Humans, without question.
"Humans or not, we have specific orders," Uriel says. "No one outside of the arks gets to live."
I withdraw my hand and straighten my back. Down at our feet on the tiny boat, half of the Humans have lost consciousness with their eye sockets empty and burned to ashes. The other ones were quick enough to bury their heads under a blanket and cover their ears.
"It's a miracle they survived that long," I whisper so my voice won't hurt them too much. "Could it be out of the Will of God?"
"No, Castiel," Anna says. "If it were, I would have been informed by the hierarchy. Every miracle is listed and announced during the reunions of Generals of divisions. Uriel is right."
I look back at the boat, my Grace swirling wildly. The couple of Humans is gripping their child against them in terror as if their arms could somehow protect him from the world. The father is sobbing and murmuring It's going to be alright… Everything will be fine, I swear, even though neither his wife nor his child can hear it with their ears covered. It is unfair. They lived an exemplary life, filled with courage and love. Their place should be inside the ark with the chosen ones.
"But... they are innocent..."
A hand drops onto my shoulder.
"I am aware." I turn my head to meet Anna's steely, piercing gaze. "But orders are orders. Their souls will rest forever in Heaven, bathed in the Lord's infinite love. We're only just freeing them from their organic shells and from a world of pain. You do know that."
The child is young, he didn't get to live more than a few years. There is so much hope inside his heart, and he should have his whole life in front of him. To have fought so hard and to have survived this far, only to be killed in his parents' arms…
It's so cruel.
Shouldn't we show some compassion, or even just a hint of pity? Shouldn't their bravery be rewarded?
As I stare into the General's green eyes, a terrifying thought crosses my mind. I could save them. I would just have to grab the boat, fly away and put them into an ark where they would be safe. Their fate is in my hands.
I get a grip on myself as icy fear washes through me. How could I harbor such a deviant thought?
"Oh for Heaven's sake, Cassy." Balthazar rolls his eyes and folds his arms in obvious annoyance. "They've played and they've lost. Now can we move on or are you waiting for them to die of old age?"
"… Castiel?"
Anna's gaze sharpens suspiciously, a hint of concern swirling into her Grace. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her hand twitching as though she was about to forge her blade out. The Garrison is watching silently – only the whistling of the wind and waves crashing against the small boat can be heard. My brothers are watching me with a judgmental look in their eyes.
It was just a thought! I want to shout at them. I would never disobey an order! Never!
All I can do is stare frozen at Anna, thoughts rushing around in my head. If I am to act, I have to do it now. But what should I do? What should I do?
Her eyes harden and she leans forward until her face almost brushes against mine.
"Kill them, Castiel. That's an order."
An order.
In that moment, it all becomes clear.
Orders are orders. There is no need to think, no hesitation to have. I am Heaven's weapon, a warrior of God. I do the Lord's will without questioning it, for this is the purpose I was created for. Without breaking eye contact with the General, I step on the boat, pushing it deep into the dark water with such strength it raises giant waves all around.
I have done my duty. I have not failed Heaven. I'm a good soldier, a good son.
And yet, despite Anna's nod of approval, for a brief moment I thought I saw disappointment flashing through her eyes.
oOo
The wide blue sky is reflected by the liquid mirror covering the Earth. There is not a single cloud, not a single wave to disturb the serenity ruling over the Creation.
I'm gliding high over the sea, alone with my thoughts and the voices of my brothers whispering through my head. But for once I'm not really listening to what they're saying, and I let myself be lulled by the quiet chant of Enochian inflections.
There is something harrowing and magnificent about this scenery. Everything is so peaceful. The arks still sailing in the endless ocean are the only reminders that life is still out there and will thrive again once the waters recede to their original level.
My gaze shifts from the faraway skyline to my glittering reflection as I let lukewarm air currents carry me forward.
I am in every way identical to my brothers. I was created on the same model than all the warriors of the Lord, made of Grace fused with the holy spirit. My wings stretch elegantly, long white feathers fluttering in the wind at both ends. I meet my own gaze on the shimmering surface and give a slow blink in astonishment.
In several million years of existence I had never once wondered what color my eyes were. Yet, besides my Grace, it is the only thing that distinguishes me from my brothers.
They are deep blue-gray, dark and wistful.
I didn't know that. I've never even tried to find out.
I alter the inclination of my wings, slowing down my flight to a stop. Gently, I land on the smooth surface, troubling it just enough to create undulating circles moving away from me. I fold my wings behind my back with a soft rustling sound, then crouch down to take a closer look and stare into my own eyes as though I could find in them the answer to all the questions that keep eating at me like waves on the seashore.
My three eyes are staring back.
I think back to Eve glaring up to the sky, seething with hatred. To that exact moment when, standing in front of Abel's grave, hope died in her heart and she lost Faith in God. If only I had talked to her, made her understand... If she had been able to see that Fate is inevitable but that her suffering would be rewarded in the afterlife, none of this would have happened. Earth has been ravaged, twice, all because I didn't say a word to Eve. And now for that same reason, Camael is in solitary confinement, Adam's soul was consumed, Cain is no longer human and is lost to us forever. I watched innocent people die and killed even more of them.
All I had to do was talk to her. So much suffering would have been avoided and Camael would still be part of the Garrison.
But orders forbade me to speak to her.
A soft sound flutters nearer as a dove flies in my direction. The bird looks exhausted and can barely flap its wings, so I lift a hand and let it perch on my finger. My Grace beads up to wrap it inside a globe of healing light.
The dove perks up and throws a curious look at me with a tilt of the head, then flies away in a flurry of wings. I follow it with my eyes until it vanishes into the infinity of the blue sky.
Everything is suddenly clear as I look down again at my reflection. Orders. I was following orders. It is my duty, and I will always obey my Father. That's the very reason I exist.
My reflection's eyes harden and I feel my Grace flowing with ease again. A sense of serenity washes over me as I rise to my feet and gaze up to the sky. I remember the truth, the most fundamental truth, the only truth that is unquestionable. The orders come from the Lord, He who created the world and all living things. Orders are orders, for no Angel oppose or question the will of God.
I have Faith. The Lord works in mysterious ways and I trust Him. His plan is just, even if I'm not up to understanding it.
Nothing else but the Mission matters. I do know that.
So why do I feel so bad?
oOo
Humans have multiplied at a tremendous rate since they set foot on land. Every woman became permanently pregnant, sometimes with twins or triplets, and none of them died in labor. Samandriel, the Angel of Fertility, obviously did a very good job.
It has been barely a century but there are already hundreds of thousands of them moving in herds to expand their territory, relentlessly building new cities in every valley favorable to agriculture and fishing. That is a constant throughout their evolution. Humans never settle for what they have, they are always in pursuit of something better, they all want more and spend their short lives being dissatisfied.
They passed on the story of the Flood to their children and instilled in them a sense of Faith filled with reverent fear. I don't know why they seem convinced that sacrificing animals will gain them the Lord's favors, though. Why would Father want His most recent creations to slit the throats of other older creations?
Maybe He does enjoy it? I don't know. I have no way of knowing what He wants.
All I do know is that this new human habit is not to the liking of the divisions in charge of animals. Not only they had to bring all life back to Earth again, but now they must endure the sight of pointless sacrifices. Which has a damaging effect on the Garrison's relations with other divisions. Now that we're back on our monitoring mission, they keep blaming us for lazing around while they are busy recreating wildlife and flora.
I have heard that the commanders of many divisions have objected to Anna's request for permanent reinforcements. The addition of new soldiers, which had been planned for centuries, is therefore being postponed. We will have to settle for Balthazar for now, and the occasional assistance of Hester and Virgil.
Invisible to mortal eyes, a group of Angels flies in strict formation over the line of Nomadic Humans marching towards the East. I don't know them, and they don't even spare me a glance as they dash to the horizon, except for one of them who slows down and lags behind, staring at me with onyx eyes brimming with fascination. I hold his gaze until he gives me a short nod and flaps his wings to join his group.
I look down again at the line of Humans, goats, mules loaded with bales, and oxen pulling carts carrying pregnant women and infants.
I understand my brothers' anger. I find this multiplication of sacrifices inappropriate, considering the current fragile state of Creation. Noah, in particular, showed a very appalling lack of discernment by rushing out of the ark to slaughter the only animals still alive on Earth, shouting glory to the Lord. The next events only confirmed his idiocy: he cultivated vineyards for the sole purpose of getting inebriated, and exposed himself naked in front of his sons all the while yelling out God's praises.
I don't care that he is of Cain's lineage, Noah is not worth half the Humans I exterminated on that boat. I keep thinking back to the trembling child in the arms of his parents. If it were up to me, I would have saved them and drowned Noah instead.
I should put these thoughts aside and focus on my mission. I scan the Humans one by one, squatting down to touch them with the tip of a finger, searching in their memories for the slightest information about the Mother of All. It seems obvious to me that she perished in the Flood along with the abominations she brought into the world, but orders are orders. We must ensure that the enemy is defeated.
I close my eyes and immerse myself in their short lives filled with joy and suffering. There is no trace of the Mother, nor of any of her creatures in their memory.
A chorus of flapping wings draws me out of my contemplation. I rise to face three green eyes adorned with silver filaments.
"Hello, Castiel."
Samandriel folds his wings, revealing about a hundred unranked Cherubs shuffling forward until they're surrounding me, gazing up at me with wide delighted eyes.
"Helloooooo!" one of them trumpets in a high-pitched voice.
The unranked Cherubs shuffle even closer to me, keeping their sparkling eyes on me.
"… Hello," I finally answer, growing uncomfortable under all these stares.
I'm not used to being around Cherubs, let alone unranked ones. I'm twice their size and their perpetual cheerful attitude is quite unsettling.
My greeting seems to please them greatly, and I freeze when they rush at me, embracing my legs, piling up and climbing over each other until they're clinging to every part of my body, including my wings. The sensation is so unpleasant I can feel my feathers bristling. Only my face is spared and I throw a look of distress at Samandriel whose eyes sparkle with amusement. My sense of dignity is the only thing keeping me from shaking them off.
"Come on now. Leave Castiel alone and do what you are supposed to do. You have soulmates to bind, couples to form. Dismissed!"
Giggling, the Cherubs release me much to my relief and fly in all directions, leaving us alone in a matter of seconds.
"Don't be mad at them, Castiel. They are young and excited, they meant no harm."
I turn to face my brother as my feathers gradually deflate.
"I don't like it."
"Neither do I, to be honest. No one does. But they would be hurt if we told them so. It's their way of saying hello, goodbye or thank you. To say pretty much anything, actually."
I look again at the long line of Humans walking slowly but stubbornly. Samandriel crouches down to have a closer look, reaching out to them, lingering on a pregnant woman to touch her rounded belly, his bluish Grace seeping inside.
"Fraternal twins, a boy and a girl, both perfectly healthy..."
The mother is sitting on a cart and stroking her belly with a fond smile.
"I believe that in all of Creation, a mother's love is the most beautiful thing Father has ever created."
Only when Samandriel throws a surprised look at me do I realize that I said these words out loud. I avert my gaze and try to appear composed.
"Probably because it is an emotion that we can easily relate to," says my younger brother as he rises to his feet and takes in the green landscape. "We do experience a sense of attachment to our brothers, and devotion to our Father. But human feelings are different. Selfish, desperate, inconsistent, painful, but also stronger. More real."
I freeze, the swirling of my Grace turning sluggish. Samandriel's soft gaze returns to me.
"Humans are fragile, ephemeral, frightened by their impending death, but in a few decades they live more intensely than we do in millions of years. Nothing we know could ever compare to the love they can feel."
These are dangerous words. Is it because of his young age and inexperience that he speaks so recklessly? He puts words on things that should be left unsaid, on thoughts that I would never have dared to express, and he does so with such disarming ease. If the hierarchy heard of this.…
"You shouldn't say such things, Samandriel," I say, my voice growing tense. "It's dangerous."
He blinks and stares at me with an intrigued look, which makes the silvery flakes of his green eyes glitter.
"Why? God gave Humans free will and the capacity to love and hate, and He gave it to them only. It These are both wonderful and cruel gifts whose value we will never be able to measure. I am aware of this and fully accept it."
"Some might think you envy them, or worse, admire them. That you are devoted to them."
Samandriel's eyes widen as realization flashes through them.
"You are thinking about Camael."
Camael. I look down again at the Humans and can't bring myself to say a word. Samandriel strokes my back with the tip of his wing as I keep my eyes glued to a carriage where a mother is rocking a wailing infant in her arms and murmuring calming words.
"Acknowledging the uniqueness of Humans in Creation does not mean that my devotion is not entirely to God," he says softly. "I may be young – I am only a few hundred thousand years old after all - but I have studied Humans and their emotions enough to know that their souls are of inestimable value. And I can see why God favors them among all His creations."
A stab of pain shots through my Grace. I don't want to think about the fact that Humans are Father's favorites, and that He made them in His image, which is not our case. I have accepted this truth over time, but it remains painful, and dwelling on it would only hinder my efficiency as a soldier and lead me astray, just like Lucifer.
"Camael was..."
The memory of my dejected brother standing in the middle of a ring of holy fire come back to me, and I close my eyes to chase it away. I have been trying very hard not to think about Camael, knowing that he is still in isolation, alone in this room with marble columns and deafening silence. And he has been there for six centuries now.
"Camael is a good soldier," I say louder even though my voice lacks conviction. "I believe he attached too much importance to his mission and put it above everything else."
Weirdly enough, I feel unable to serve him Michael's version, and share my own thoughts instead. Because Samandriel is right about one thing. We are not capable of love or hatred, no matter what Cain's memories showed. Cain might have felt love for Camael, but the reverse is impossible. Impossible. That was only devotion. A powerful but misplaced devotion, for only God deserves it.
Samandriel remains silent, and I keep my eyes shut, continuing in a low voice: "I hope God will be merciful and forgive him. I pray to Him every day to offer Camael a second chance."
"You've got heart, Castiel. Perhaps too much of it."
My eyes snap open. I am about to defend myself, but I see no trace of accusation in his eyes. He's looking at me with so much compassion and empathy that holding his gaze hurts.
oOo
In the next chapter (next sunday, march 29th)
"Salvation has been waiting for us all this time in the arse of cows! Hallelujah!"