Miranda is doing well. She can’t quite account for the absence of watchers and subtle threats, but she is relieved. Meanwhile Taralom and I are beginning to enjoy terrorizing said watchers. Mr. Hill must be thinking that he is having a terrible run of luck where it concerns this particular woman.
Freya is also doing well. I can’t help but wish I could talk to her about this problem. I’d wager that not only would she have some good ideas to help Miranda, but that she too would enjoy the humor in our form of justice.
But they are not the reason I am writing today. Today I had a bit of time to spare, and so I did something I have not done in a long time, and went to visit Brid.
She has been busy lately, so I sent her a message first to ask if she was available. She responded quickly and eagerly, so I was surprised on arriving to find that she was not alone. The Virtue with her was a tall, elegant soul, with long slender wings and hands that moved with grace and precision. They stood facing one another, eyes closed, wings curled forward to form a circle around them, hands pressed together.
“I am sorry,” I said, for I had clearly interrupted a lesson of some kind. “I can come another time—”
“Please, Asa’el, it’s all right,” Brid said, opening her eyes and smiling at me. “We were nearly finished.” She extended a hand. “This is Perrine, who is teaching me the things I will need to know if I am to piece you back together when you damage yourself.” She gave me a droll look that made me laugh.
“In which case, I am very grateful to you, Perrine,” I said, “and it is my honor to meet you.”
“The honor is mine,” Perrine said, her voice deep and sure. “It is a joy to see such a strong friendship at work, and a pleasure to have a student as promising as Brid.”
Brid’s aura warmed at the praise, as did mine, I am sure. I am as happy about my friend’s success as I am about my own.
“We will resume tomorrow, then, Brid,” Perrine said. “Let your spirit have rest, and enjoy your time with your friend.” Nodding once more to me, she left us alone then.
“So you are well, my friend,” I said, turning to Brid.
“I am. And are you happy?” she asked me in turn.
She has asked me this question often in the past days, and there is a different feeling beneath it now than there used to be. Part of it is that she wants to be sure that I feel I have made the right choice, but part of it is the question that she does not want to ask, the question which reflects my changed values. She will not speak it aloud, but I see it in her eyes.
“I am happy,” I told her, and it was the truth. “But I am still working through the challenges facing my charge.”
We talked then, as I told her about Miranda’s difficulties and the temporary solution I have in place. Brid did not have much wisdom to offer, but her listening ear was a comfort to me nevertheless. She then told me about her own charges—she has only two at this time, as she has been granted more time in heaven to learn the new skills that interest her. We talked about that, too, and it seems that she is progressing quickly.
“It is much of what we do to heal humans,” she explained to me, “when we go to heal their spirits. But awareness of a wound is a powerful thing. Often a human whose soul is hurt does not understand where the pain comes from, and that very ignorance offers them a bit of protection from it. Angels have no such shield. We know when we have been harmed, and sometimes that knowledge—the awareness of a hateful enemy who inflicted this pain with intent—can be as harmful as the wound itself.”
“Then how do you combat it?” I asked her.
She smiled at me. “With comfort, and strength, and love. It is a way of concentrating the feelings we give to humans, to reach directly down to the wound and restore wholeness.” She hesitated, and then said, “I have not begun to work with any angels yet, but Perrine has brought me along when she tends to them. Would you like to meet one of them? She has been asking me about you.”
I couldn’t think who she might be talking about, but I was more than willing to go with her. So I followed her to the Asylum.
The place where wounded angels rest is a tranquil place, a piece of heaven disconnected from all the rest. The light is dim and golden, and music plays softly from somewhere, such soft and lovely music that it soothes my soul just to remember it. Healers drift between the resting souls, some of which are awake and aware, some others so deep within themselves that they are aware of nothing.
It was strange, to look at my brothers and sisters who have been injured in the fight. It was strange to see the shadows in their souls and know that I might be one of them very soon.
Brid brought me to one of them, a Virtue with several vivid slashes of darkness in her aura. It was almost broken into pieces, and I could see the pain radiating out like the heat of the earth. “Hello, Yael,” Brid murmured.
That name startled me, and my surprise roused the sleeping Cherub, who opened three eyes to look at me. Her Lower Eye was heavy-lidded, as if it was weary from having seen too much. “Brid,” she whispered. “My young comfort. Who have you brought me?”
“This is Asa’el, my dear friend. I was just telling you about him.”
“Were you?” Yael murmured, her eyes sliding closed again. “I should remember that, I think.”
“He is the Guardian who has come to your ranks from the Cupids.”
That roused her again, and she looked at me with something resembling curiosity. “Ah. I do remember. I wanted to meet you.”
“I have also heard about you, Yael,” I said, my voice soft. “Orison told me about your battle. He was proud of how you acquitted yourself.”
She scoffed lightly. “How well could I have done, to end here?”
“You are alive, are you not?”
“Am I?” she whispered. The gaps of pain seemed to widen.
“Please do not despair, Yael,” Brid said, stepping closer. “You are safe now, and you will get well.”
She shook her head heavily. “But how long will it take?” she whispered.
“Healing takes as much time as it takes. You must not hurry yourself.”
“Must I not?” she asked. This time it was only the Lower Eye that opened, and it roved from side to side, as if searching. Still looking for the enemy, even here in heaven’s most peaceful place.
I understood then.
“Take the time you need, sister,” I said to her, putting as much conviction in my voice as I could. “We will fight for you when you cannot, and the battle will go on. No one will suffer for your absence.”
She went still then, and that terrible eye fixed on me. For the first time, I gazed back into it without fear, for I knew precisely what made it so very terrible, and I knew that that same feeling dwelt within me and always had.
And then it slid shut, and she smiled. “Thank you, Asa’el,” she whispered.
Brid’s eyes were wide as she stepped forward to examine Yael. “She’s asleep,” she said, drawing me back. “How did you do that? She hasn’t slept at all since she came here.”
“I understand why,” I said. “The fight is not endless, Brid, but it is constant. I’m only beginning to understand that. And most of us don’t fear being in the fight as much as not being able to do our part.” I had that feeling even when I was a Cupid, the need to work, to make a difference, to chip away at the Enemy’s power. I knew without understanding how that were we to give him the slightest chance, he would take it, and I wanted to keep him from that, even then.
“Most of us,” Brid repeated.
I looked at her and smiled. “I am a Guardian, Brid. I think a part of me always has been. And I’m ready to be a part of the fight.”
She did not smile back. She reached out and took hold of my shoulder with a hard grip. “Asa’el,” she said, “you will be well, won’t you?”
It was not what she meant. She meant, will you be safe? But she won’t ask that, because she knows the answer.
“I’m not alone, Brid,” I told her, putting my arm and my wings around her. “That’s the best comfort of all, whether one is weak and wounded or strong enough to fight. No matter what happens to me, I’m not alone. And so yes, I will be well.”
I hope that Yael will be well, too. I hope that someday soon, she will be back in the fight where she belongs. And I am relieved to know that someday—not soon, but assuredly so—there will be no fight.