Orion swore his oath to Jeremiel, and the Seraphim accepted that the Archangel truly meant his Brothers no harm. He gestured for Orion to join them in his home, to see if Raphael and Zerachiel had been successful in finding Remiel.
Opening the door to his home, Jeremiel heard a weak whimpering coming from within. He turned to face the Archangel following him, but Orion simply shrugged; the other man knew nothing of what they were facing either. The men kicked off their boots, and investigated the pained sounds, only to find Raphael, Cordelia, and Emilia surrounding the dining table.
"Cordelia, what is going on?" Jeremiel asked his head maidservant, who shook her head. "Cordelia!"
"I apologize, Master Jeremiel, but my attention is needed here, we're almost done." Fear quavered the maidservant's voice; she had never disobeyed her master.
Jeremiel stormily made his way to the table, wanting to know what was more important than his questions. Seeing what had his maidservant's attention, he quickly stepped between the realms to the bathing chambers, emptying his stomach into a basin. –Remiel…his wings…that's almost worse than Michael's…they were so bare…– He gagged again, his stomach turning. Placing his head against the cool marble wall, he fought to ease his nausea.
Cordelia knocked on the door to his private bathing chambers. "Master Jeremiel? Are you in here?"
"...Yes."
"May I come in?"
"...Yes."
The maidservant entered the room and let down her hair from its blue ribbon. She used the ribbon to pull back her master's long hair into a low ponytail, getting the hair off his shoulders and out of his face. "Are you alright, Master Jeremiel?"
Jeremiel's voice was weak and soft. "I…I will be, thank you, Cordelia. Just seeing the bare wings…what happened to him?"
"After the Twin Archs brought Remiel to the Ruler, He ordered his wings to be stripped bare as punishment for mentioning the Fallen." Cordelia grabbed a cloth and wiped the sweat from Jeremiel's forehead and neck as she recounted what Raphael had told the others.
"The Ruler had this done to him? It was a mistake!" Jeremiel's brows knit together, anger taking over the nausea he had felt.
"Raphael brought him back here, and Emilia and I have tried our best to take care of him. We didn't know what to do with him, though; we've never seen anything like this. We put on a soothing salve and wrapped him in bandages. He was bleeding and awfully bruised. We did everything we could, Master Jeremiel, I just hope it is enough."
–Who would know how to take care of such injuries? Such a barbaric thing to do to one of us…– "I know you did your best, and if he recovers from his injuries, it'll be because of you two."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Zerachiel waited outside of his home, kicking at the ground aimlessly while he waited for Uriel to say his farewells. The messenger angel closed the door behind him, a blush reaching his ears. The Seraphim considered teasing him, but decided against it; –if Uriel is the only one happy in such a miserable Kingdom, he deserves to be happy in peace.–
The two men stepped between the realms, appearing in Jeremiel's parlor. Zerachiel had heard of Remiel's fate from Uriel, but hearing about his Brother's stripped wings and seeing them were two different entities. He swallowed his disgust toward the Ruler, and approached Remiel, who was slowly beginning to stir.
"Rem? Are you alright?"
Remiel groaned, but no words came from the injured angel.
"Take your time, Brother." Zerachiel swept the hair back from Remiel's damp forehead.
"He's just coming around now. He hadn't fully woken up while we were cleaning his wings and bandaging his injuries." Raphael did not look up from his Brother's wings, bound in linen strips.
"The Ruler let you take him with no issues? That seems like something He would have fought about." Uriel wrung his hands as he approached the table that Remiel lay across.
"He said He grew tired of Remiel, and to take him out of His sight. I told him I was not there to question His decision to punish our Brother, but to simply take him home. But we all clearly question His choices – this is barbaric." Raphael stepped back from the table, leaning against the wall.
"Which Archangels did He summon to do…this?" Uriel glanced at Remiel's pallid face, before finding himself staring at the bandaged wings.
"There were four. The Twin Archs, of course, were delighted to participate. They've been itching for one of us to step out of line since their assignments began. The other two were ones I have not seen before. The Ruler called the other two Azazel and Zadkiel. Azazel seems mad; he looks just as insane and unpredictable as the Twins. Zadkiel, the last Archangel, I'm not sure about. He seemed less eager to be involved in this…," Raphael gestured vaguely at Remiel. "Punishment."
Orion sat in the parlor, his head in his hands. His brethren had done something terrible to the Seraphim; the angels who had been nothing but kind to him. He knew his kind were warriors, and it was his role in life to fight, to enforce. –But this is not what we are for.– "You're right, Raphael."
The Seraphim turned to the Archangel in their midst; most of the Brothers had forgotten he had been in Jeremiel's home with them. "He always is, but about what in particular, Orion?" Zerachiel pressed.
"Azazel is mad. Absolutely unpredictable; he revels in violence. He's nearly killed each one of us in training battles; the only reason he hasn't is Commander Metatron stopping him. If the Commander weren't running the drills, Azazel would have certainly eliminated every one of us, the Twins excluded." Orion ran his hands through his silver hair. "None of my brethren want to be paired with him during training drills – we know it'll end with us with a boot stomped on our sternum and a blade slicing into our throat. Male Archs, female Archs, he doesn't care. The violence excites him."
Gabriel, holding pressure to the bandage on his wing, moved to sit next to the youngest Archangel. "Show me." At the Seraphim's request, Orion tipped his chin back, decades of Azazel's abuse forming crisscrossing scars across his throat. Gabriel shot a glance at Raphael, who came to inspect the evidence.
"He's not lying. That's definitely been done to him - look at the angles." Raphael confirmed.
Orion tilted his head forward, hiding his scars. "Zadkiel isn't a bad man. He just follows the Commander's orders. I can't see him doing something like this and enjoying it, but he knows that Archangels follow our commands." Helplessness began to pool in Orion's eyes. "I don't want this path in life, but I don't know how to get out."
Gabriel patted Orion's shoulder once, and stood. He pulled Zerachiel to the kitchen, the pair speaking in hushed tones. "Zerachiel, we need to help him."
"How are we supposed to do that? Just march him up to the Ruler and say he doesn't want to be an Archangel anymore? He'll end up like our Brother, or the Ruler will just kill him!"
"I need to help him. He saved my wife from being Samael and Azrael's collateral damage. I must repay that debt."
"I'm hearing why, I'm not hearing how!" Zerachiel flicked his wings, not understanding what Gabriel was trying to tell him was frustrating him.
"I still have Michael's ring…" Gabriel pulled the chain from his neck, revealing the golden ring he had been keeping safe. "Do you think he would want to go? Or that our Brother would even have a place for him to go?"
Zerachiel struggled to keep his voice low, to not allow the others to hear. "You're asking if we should offer him a way out? If he wants to defect from the Archangel ranks, we'll take him to the Mortal Plane? What about the Ruler? Certainly he'll just have the Twins track him, and then he'll get the same treatment Michael did for leaving! That'll be another Fallen. And you heard how Michael screamed, we can't offer that to Orion! And if Ravenna got hurt in the crossfire, Michael would never forgive us!"
"But maybe we can find Michael first. What if he knows something we don't? Something that will allow Orion a way out – a safe way out?"
"I'll go. I've met Ravenna, I've spoken to her. She knows me, I'm less likely to frighten her. Pass me that ring." Zerachiel held his hand out, trying not to allow his anxieties to show.
Gabriel unfastened the necklace, passing the ring and chain to his Brother. "Good luck."
Raphael called out to his Brothers, letting them know Remiel had fully woken up. Gabriel looked out toward the parlor, seeing the sun had begun to rise, and he closed his weary eyes for a moment.