And so I had wronged him, and been forgiven. It was yet another first in a long line of firsts. As a being with will of my own, so too came learning, and my mind was expanding along with my experiences.
I had never done wrong before, as the choice had never been mine to make. It was a precious choice, I realized now. And an uncomfortable one. For the first time I was able to catch a glimmer of understanding as to why Lucifer had done what he had done. He and his brethren had been sent on many missions such as mine, and so developed a sense of self that existed beyond the ending of their mortal bodies and their return to the ranks of the seraphim. It was that sense of self that led to their pride, their envy, and their downfall.
It was a most bittersweet thing, this self-will. While I treasured it as the great gift Father chose to bestow only upon his human creations and those who assumed their form for such periods, I too saw the danger inherent within it.
I would be glad to shed myself of it, and leave such responsibility to the infinite wisdom of my Father. Being absolute in His will was all I had ever known, and I longed to return to it and once again be certain in all things.
Strange sensations I never even knew could exist assaulted me hourly. Emotions when I saw Gavril, when he touched me, when he spoke. I was beginning to feel a devotion to him that I should not have, a personal devotion.
Still, things were calm, and those who desired him were powerless against our combined might. I was looking forward, not pining for my life as a true servant of my Father. To keep Gavril safe, and happy, although happiness was not a requisite of my mission. It gave me joy to see him joyful.
If only it had remained so simple.
~:~
They are restless tonight, she thought to herself as she crept from her room and softly shut the rude wooden door behind her. What are they planning…
Quickly, whispered feet slipping across the floor, she moved through the nave to the door that led to Father Gavril's rooms. The shutters were tightly closed, but the lack of light made no difference to her. She had learned the ways of her human body well, and she had also learned that while her form was human, and attendant with a variety of biological annoyances, it was not purely human. Her vision at night, for example. She also did not sleep, or have the need to eat or drink.
While she did not need to eat or drink, she did so anyway, although eliminating it was yet another annoyance. It would not do for her to dispose of good food in the pigsty, and he would notice if she did not sup.
The thin slit of light she looked for was not beneath the door of his bedroom or his study. He had taken this night to rest, then. It was good, for his body was human, and had all the requirements thereof. He pushed himself. She did not like it.
With a light touch, she pushed down the handle of his room and let herself in. He was in the bed on his back, covers twisted around his long legs, one arm flung up over his head. As was her habit when he was sleeping, she studied him for a moment. The bed barely fit him, he was a few inches over six feet tall. He had informed her that the doors of the chapel had to be heightened from the original plans, or he would have been continuously knocking himself unconscious against the lintel. The story had made him chuckle. She had stored it away for her future study of humor.
His features had been pleasingly arranged, thick dark hair curling over a high forehead and kind eyes. When they were open they were the colors of the sea, calm bright blue surrounded by stormy grey, and fringed with black lashes. His face was broad and strong, the clean bare chin square and the jaw strong. There was a forthrightness about him, and a confidence in his faith. It was…comforting.
She knew her mistakes had been many, but he had overlooked every single one, not asking the questions she knew they would prompt, and not pushing when the answers she gave were unsatisfactory. Also his forgiveness was granted at her true contrition, he was not stingy about it. Fortunately, her major transgressions had been few, and mainly due to her own lack of ability in controlling her tongue. It was unfortunate that deceit had to be practiced, but it would not do for humans to know one of her kind walked among them. A necessity.
He was worthy of the protection of one of her kind, merely for himself. She did not know what the future had in store for him, and did not care. She would protect him because he was a good man, and one that the world needed. It was enough.
His room was clean. Nothing had broken through the holy seals she had placed on the chapel. Gavril's own holiness was enough to keep them at bay while he was awake, but as he slept…the human subconscious was capable of all manner of evil, and opened doors that best remain closed.
Through the inky blackness she crept her way to the front doors in the vestibule, opened the door and went through. Outside the moon blazed overhead, illuminating the night with blue white effulgence.
There.
High up, on the roof, swirling about the cupola, thin wisps that could be mistaken for smoke, if one didn't know better.
"I name thee, Czernobog."
The writhing mist began flailing violently, before coalescing and flowing down the rooftop of the church, over the wall and to the ground. It slithered until it pooled before her, raising in height and solidifying into a humanoid shape.
"You were not supposed to know it was me. There are so many of us here, you know," the solidifying vapor said in a voice full of gravel and fire. Despite that, the tone was conversational, even pleasant.
"Of course it was you. I was told you would be sent."
"Your side would have spies," it lamented, finally forming into the shape of a man, seven feet tall, with jet black skin. Perfectly nude, bat wings flared before furling and settling against his back. Yellow glowing eyes peered at her, and horns sprouted from his forehead.
"It is a war."
"And you intend to keep this one for yourself, do you?"
"Yes."
"Do you know why? Have your precious Elders bothered to tell you that?"
"I do not need to know. Unlike some, I have faith in the ultimate design of my Father."
That caused the demon to flinch. While not a former angel, spat out of Heaven after a rebellion against God, he did serve the fallen ones, and they remembered the pain all to well and inflicted it upon those beneath them. Particularly at any mention of their ultimate betrayal. He recovered quickly.
"You cannot watch him every second of every day, you know."
"My being here is more of a formality, and you know this. So long as he is pure you cannot touch him."
"There are no pure human beings. All of them are stained."
"Ah, but there are degrees, and his staining is so faint as to be nonexistent."
"He will slip. And then he will be mine."
"No. I will not let it happen."
"You cannot prevent it. It is human nature itself. He will succumb, and I will take him." He shrugged. "It's nothing personal. Just war."
"You are disgusting," she hissed, then blinked as an unfamiliar heat bubbled up in her chest. It was uncomfortable, but empowering.
Black lips slid back into a grin, revealing rows of sharp teeth. "I see. This is your first time experiencing anger, isn't it? Oh, this should be very interesting. And, my dear, how are you handling your new human body? It's something else, isn't it?"
"I am handling it just fine!" she spat, but half of her mind wrestled with the unfamiliar emotions twisting inside her. This was anger? This was not good. Anger led to wrath, and wrath led to downfall…
"Oh you are too clever for me," Czernobog drawled, crossing grotesquely muscular arms. "You see the trap of anger and are avoiding it."
"Do not mock me!"
"Oh, little angel. I do not mock you…all right. I mock you. But how can I not? It is so delicious!"
"Begone, fiend. Or I will destroy you."
"No…" he mused, studying her as she stood, arms straight at her side, fists clenched, head bowed as she wrestled with the new ugliness discovered inside her. "I don't think you can. Not yet, anyway. You have lost your righteous fury. Oh, you'll get it back, you'll get it back," he told her, lifting a hand at her sudden glare. "But right now…you don't stand a chance, my dear."
"So destroy me, then."
"No. I have plans for you, little angel. You are correct. Right now I cannot touch him. Even if I could get past your blasted protections his own purity would shield him. That will change, however. I will see to it."
"He is too strong for you."
"Mayhap, mayhap not. Consider this a wager. The winner gets his soul. The loser…" his grin grew impossibly broad. "Loses."
"Begone," she ordered again, steel in her voice.
"Peace, little angel. I am leaving, but of course I will be back. Hell is determined to have him. We cannot afford for you to gain him. If you should, he will lay the foundation for a holy empire the likes the world has never seen, and one that will last for centuries, healing the hurts of these broken and fractured peoples. However, should we retrieve him, he will be the source of a paramount evil, who's works will echo through history and steer the lives of billions for generations to come."
"I do not care! Begone!"
Czernobog pressed a fist to his chest and bowed before her, then vanished in a puff of greasy smoke.
As she stood beneath the moonlight, she discovered yet another new emotion.
Despair.