Hunted

Today Ophell and Ananiah came to me, and I was startled to see that both of them could meet my Eye with a shadowed gaze of their own.  I exclaimed over my friend’s advancement, making him blush and Ananiah beam with pride.

“My advancement to Cherub was nearly as unconventional as yours was,” he explained.  “I didn’t like the thought of Ananiah returning to the field alone, and so we went together to request that I receive the Lower Eye so that we could hunt together.  They were kind enough to grant the request.”

“I am glad for you,” I said.  “And I am glad to see you so well, Ananiah!  I hope you have no lingering pain or fear.”

“No more than any of us,” Ananiah said with a rueful smile.  “But we have come to make you an offer, Asa’el.  I understand that you have yet to make your first capture?”

I felt a small shiver, gone almost before I noticed it.  “Well, on my patrols there has not been much activity, and at all other times I am with Freya.”

She nodded.  “I would not think that there would be any brave enough to get close to her after what happened to that Resentment—not for some time, at least.”

“Even so, I am not comfortable leaving her unprotected.”

“How did we know you were going to say that?” Ophell laughed.  He set his hand on my shoulder.  “But you should see our enemies for yourself, and so we would like to help you.  If you like, I will stay and keep watch over Freya, while Ananiah accompanies you on the hunt.”

The shiver returned, stronger now, and I realized that it was anticipation rather than fear.  I was eager to test my bow for the first time, to step into the field at last.

“Brother,” I said when I could find my voice, “I would be relieved to have your sharp eye watching out for my fire woman.  Thank you.”

They exchanged a warm look that somehow also contained the same excitement that was lifting my wings.  “Good hunting,” Ophell said, and he winged down to find Freya.

“Follow me,” Ananiah said, and we dropped down into the evening, chasing the west wind.  She led the way to darkening city streets, where shouting and flashing lights rang through the dusk.

“There have been many Violences abroad in recent weeks,” she told me as we swept silently over knots of chaos.  “They have taken advantage of our preoccupation with the Pestilences.  There is much work to be done.”

“And I am eager to be a part of it,” I answered.

She laughed softly.  “I thought you might be.”

Indeed, it did not take us long to feel the first creeping hint of ice on our souls.  We banked towards the sensation and discovered a group of dark-skinned young men walking down the street towards a pair of police cars.  Neither had noticed the other, but the five creatures hovering over their heads had noticed both.

They looked up and shrieked with rage as we approached.  I threw out my wings, my heart throbbing with shock and horror.  I have imagined many times what the Fallen might look like, but I never imagined this.  Why, I’m not certain, because it is perfectly logical that fallen angels should look like angels.

They are smaller than we are, diminished, their bodies thin and sharp.  But their auras stretch farther than an angel’s would, and in that aura is such hatred and despair that I shudder even to remember it.  Their faces were twisted with that same hatred, lips curled and brows bent to the point of disfigurement.  One of them had tears streaming from her eyes the entire time, though she did not seem to notice.

Ananiah did not hesitate.  Her weapon came to her hand, a curved sword made of refracted light, and she winged right into the center of the group.  One of them screamed as it died under her blade—there was a flash of darkness and a wrenching surge of rage, and then it was simply gone, leaving only bloody shadows in the air that soon dissipated like smoke.

The other four converged on Ananiah in vicious vengeance, and I came back to myself with a gasp.  Suddenly the weight and heat of my bow was in my hand, the quiver resting between my wings.  I realized that it had been with me the entire time, resting in my spirit until my need made it manifest.  It is with me even still; I will never be without it, and what a comfort that is!

I have never held a weapon before in my life, and yet I knew precisely how to hold the bow.  The arrows leapt to my fingers, and the string sang for me.  I knew where to aim to deal a fatal blow, and my arrows—one, two, and three—flew just where I wished.

And then it was done, the last falling under Ananiah’s sword as I hung in the air, stunned motionless.  My quiver was no less heavy than before, the arrows having returned to their place once their work was done.  And the work was done.  Five of our enemy were now gone without trace, and the late evening sunlight fell over us as if nothing had happened.

I looked down at my hands, empty now, and found them shaking.  It had been so easy.

“Asa’el.”  Ananiah flew to me and took my hands in her own.  They were very warm.  “I know.”

And she did know.  I saw it in her eyes, the grief and knowledge of what we had done.  Of who our victims had once been. 

“The world is brighter for their absence,” she told me.  “They could not have been saved.”

“I know, but…”  I shuddered and dropped my head to her shoulder.  “I thought—I have seen some of us fighting with joy.  I was excited to come.  Should I be ashamed of that feeling?”

“Ashamed of your own strength, and the righteousness that brought you here?” she asked, wrapping her arms around me.  “Ashamed of doing what you have been sent by our King to do?  What you were born to do?  Never.  We have joy for the sake of those we protect.  Look, Asa’el, what we have done.”

I looked down at the street below us.  The police cars had started up their engines and pulled away from their place of watch.  Seeing them go, the group of men began to laugh and joke, and the hunted feeling lifted from their spirits.

“They are safe,” Ananiah said.  “If we had not come, they would not have been.”

I drew away from her and met her gaze.  I was no longer shaking.

“Respect the lost, by all means,” she said.  “It makes you kinder than most of us.  But do not carry any guilt for their demise.  You have only exchanged lost souls for those that still have a chance, and that is a worthy exchange.”

She is right, of course, and yet I cannot shake this weight on my heart.  Each one of those Violences is gone now, wiped from existence, because of what I did.  I was responsible for erasing them, when they were all once angels who felt the same joy that I felt in hunting them.

Will I someday be one of them?  Will someday a Cherub come stalking my shriveled spirit in the night?

I pray and pray that it will not be so, but no one but the King can say for sure.