I went to see Zezette today. It made me feel terrible, as if I were going behind Danit’s back, but I had to do something. I could not let matters stand.
She knew precisely what I wanted as soon as I arrived, I could see that in her aura. She greeted me with an embrace, and the depth of empathy and compassion radiating from her nearly made me weep.
“Is there nothing that I can do?” I asked when I could find my voice.
“I wish that I could give you the answer you want to hear, Asa’el.” She released me and stood back, gazing down at me with sorrow. “But your love, your energy, is far too precious to expend on someone for whom it will have no effect.”
“If only I could be certain that it would not have any effect,” I replied. “I still think that I could reach her—”
“Be careful that you do not venture into the realm of pride, my young brother.”
I threw out my wings in frustration. “I do not think that it is pride, Zezette, only I know Shannon. I know her fears and her faults as well as her strengths. If anyone can reach her, it is me.”
“And if you cannot, then no one can.”
Those words chilled me to my core. “Then she is to be abandoned by heaven? Left to fall and fall until she is swallowed by the darkness?”
“That is not guaranteed. She may make her way back into the light on her own—humans have surprised us before. She is not lost to hope, Asa’el.”
“But would her chances not be better with someone to help her? Even if it takes time.”
Zezette shook her head. “That is time that we do not have. There are many more who need you, and who will be listening for your voice.”
“I cannot just—”
One of her wings lifted high, and I fell silent, suddenly cowed by the power in her. She had been quelling it in her sympathy for me, but I had crossed a line, and we both knew it.
“I apologize,” I mumbled.
“As you should,” she said. Her voice had lost none of its warmth, but there was a hardness in it now that lay heavy on my shoulders. “In the end, Asa’el, the choice is not yours. We are granted the knowledge of the truth, but we must follow the will of our King, and His will is expressed through your seniors. This may be painful, but it is right, and it is not your place to question it.”
I was silent. She is right, but it still burns in my heart like a brand.
Looking down at me, she softened a bit. “You have never failed before, I know,” she said. “Always before you have managed to move past mistake or crisis and bring your charge to a good place. But that is not always possible. You must not blame yourself, Asa’el. Indeed, I believe that you gave Shannon a great gift. She will look back on these days as a period of warmth and comfort in her life.”
But will it be enough to save her? And if it does not, if she falls—will that be my fault?
Zezette lay two of her wings across my shoulder, sending me warmth and strength. “Grieve for her, but then you must move on. You have other charges who need you.”
It was not long after she left me that the courage she had given me left, as well.