Breaker

I was on patrol with Orison this evening when of a sudden, something changed.  I couldn’t tell what it was, but it felt like the sky had opened up and the emptiness beyond were crashing down upon us.  My wings went immediately numb, and I plummeted from my flight with a cry.  Orison caught me, but I could sense that he was having trouble, too.  He barely managed to catch us both before we crashed to the earth, and then we crouched in the shade of a tree, gasping for breath that we didn’t actually need.

“What—” I whispered, but Orison clapped his hand over my mouth.  I was shocked to feel him trembling.

And then a shadow passed overhead, and I froze as surely as if I had been turned to ice.  Slowly, I lifted my head to look up.

She was vast, and beautiful, and horrible.  Vaster than any angel I had ever seen, her fine face blank with scorn, she circled overhead, and three great eyes scanned the ground.  I knew without knowing how that she wasn’t looking for us, particularly, and that even if she had been, we would be less than nothing to her.  She would kill us as carelessly as a human might swat a fly. 

I looked at her long, narrow wings, six of them, each as white as those of an albatross except where they were spattered with blood.  The sword in her hand glowed softly—it was like a club of iron, blunt and cruel, and I knew that it carried the souls of angels.  She had killed some of our siblings already this night.

At last she turned and glided away, and the warmth began to return to the air.  Still Orison and I crouched in the shadows, uncertain if she would come back. 

Finally Orison shuddered and sighed.  “Asa’el,” he said, gripping my shoulder, “I have had cause to be grateful for your sensitivity before, but never before has it saved my own life.  I thank you, brother.” 

I was still too stunned to speak.  He put an arm around my shoulders and jumped into the air, carrying me swiftly and safely back to heaven.  Only once we had left the chill and shadow of Earth entirely did I regain my voice, and that only faintly.  “What—” was all I could say.

“A Breaker,” he answered me.  “If I am not mistaken, that was Jaahiliyah herself, the eldest and the most hateful.”  He rose and stepped away from me.  “I must report this to Salathiel and the Sentries.  You are well?”

“Go,” I answered, for it was certainly urgent that this news get to our seniors.  “But come back if you can.”

I went to Brid then, for I did not want to be alone, and she clasped my hands in horror.  Inca came to join us shortly afterward, and other Guardians followed, until we were all keeping vigil together.  They knew, as I did, that with such a powerful enemy abroad this night, it was possible that a great battle could begin, with catastrophic consequences for heaven and earth both.

When I thought of Freya, I nearly jumped to the wing at once, but someone seized my shoulder and dragged me back down.  I looked back to see Ero’an, his face uncommonly grave.

“She is well,” he told me.  “Breakers have no concern for humans.  And they will not speak challenge lightly.  If Jaahiliyah is alone, there may well not be any fighting at all.”

But he stayed, and so did the rest of us, until a burst of fire had many of us jumping up—Brid actually screamed.

Syebo sheathed his great fire-sword and bent his head to Brid.  His eyes were weary, but very gentle.  “My apologies, little sister,” he said, and his voice was deep and soothing.  There were no marks of battle on him.

Salathiel was just behind him.  “It was indeed Jaahiliyah,” she said, “but she has gone to ground now.  She was not flying at the order of her master—simply stretching her wings.” 

Her mouth was twisted in grief and anger, and I could understand why.  Jaahiliyah’s restless outing had resulted in multiple angel deaths.

“Do we know who fell?” Ero’an asked.

“Not yet,” Syebo sighed.  Though he, too, was vast and terrible to behold, at this moment his presence was the most reassuring thing I could have wished for—which was no doubt why he had come.  “But Sakina is on the search.  If anyone can find their names on the wind, the Elder of Gathers can.” 

“Eldest Brother,” Orison said with deep respect, “is it true that the Enemy has used his Breakers to assail the bounds of heaven?”

A ripple of fear ran through the rest of us, and I put my wings around Brid.  I knew that Orison had asked the question for us, not for himself—we were too awed by the Eldest to speak in his presence.  I wanted to know the answer, wanted to be prepared if such a thing were possible, but I was worried about how it would frighten Brid.

Syebo’s gaze also passed over her, but he answered, “More than once, but he will not do it now.  He has only three Breakers just now, and in the past a dozen of that number have not been able to do it.”

I shuddered at the thought of a dozen like Jaahaliyah.

“Battle between the Sentries and the Breakers is always costly,” Syebo went on.  “It will not happen tonight.”

He turned then to Salathiel.  “I go now to the watch.  Will you speak with the other Elders and see that all their people are accounted for?”

“Yes, Eldest,” Salathiel said.  She swept a sharp glance over all of us.  “I do not think I need to tell you,” she said, “but it is best for us all to remain in heaven for the night.”

She and Syebo departed, and one by one, so did the other Guardians, showing various levels of relief.  They had been reassured by Syebo’s careful words.  Brid was not, however, and I have stayed with her all this time.  We both heard, after all, that if such a terrible battle does not happen tonight, still it will happen again.  And if such a simple event had such a high cost—more if angels are hiding in heaven tonight, leaving their charges vulnerable—what horrors might be inflicted on the world by true violence between the strongest forces of God and his Enemy?