What a joy it was to see an old friend today! My mentor, Adnar’el, came to me, and I greeted him with great joy. I was his watcher while I was still in training, and I have always tried to emulate his caring way with his charges.
“The joy is mine, my young friend,” he said, smiling. A Power with many years of service under his wings, he is slender and sweet with wisdom shining from his eyes. “I have been so very pleased to hear of your successes.”
“If I have had success, it was due to what I learned from observing you.”
He waved that away. “I did no more than what the Father-King asked of me, as do you. Now, tell me of your charges, and then I have something that I would like to ask of you.”
I did so with alacrity. Adnar’el listened closely, occasionally inserting a piece of advice. He approves of discouraging direct contact between Grace and Con—“Her heart needs time to forgive him”—but he had a suggestion of when to bring them back together that I intend to follow. He also empathized with my struggles with Shannon and had some wisdom to offer to help Harrington recover his spirit. He believes that patience will be sufficient to bring Pamela to peace, which I hope is true. Then we rejoiced together over the good things that have come to Jonathan and Mary.
“It is likely that you will be removed from those cases before long,” he mused.
“Have you been speaking to Danit?” I teased him.
“Of course, she is an old friend,” he answered. “And I will tell you that your work is to come under review very soon. But even without that, it just seems to me that you have done what was needed for them. Do you not think so?”
“I do,” I said. “But tell me, my mentor, what was it that you wanted to ask me? I do not want to take too much of your valuable time.”
“In truth, I have time to spare,” he said, “and this is a valuable use of it, I assure you. I have been granted a Sabbath at the close of one of my assignments.”
I congratulated him—a sabbath is a rare joy. I often think with pleasure on my own.
“I am very excited,” he said, though that excitement sat quietly in his aura, as does everything else. He is a restful soul. “But though I have very capable watchers, there is one of my charges who still gives me concern. Though I have just heard how busy you are—”
“It would be my pleasure to look after your charge for you, Adnar’el,” I said. “May I meet them now?”
He smiled. “Always so eager to give of the great love in your heart. Very well—let us go.”
I followed him out of heaven, and we found ourselves in a dirty bedroom, posters hanging slack on the walls and sheets thrown off the bed. In the middle of that bed sat a terribly thin figure, her head shaven, her upper lip pierced, and makeup smudged under teary eyes.
“Her name is Samantha,” Adnar’el said, “but there are still those who persist in calling her Sam.”
I could see immediately what the trouble was. Samantha’s aura was full of pain, self-doubt, confusion, and longing. I had only seen it once before, and that in Adnar’el’s company, too. “Has she begun the transition?”
“She cannot afford it,” Adnar’el said with a sigh, “and that brings her pain. Her family refuses to help, though she has asked many times.”
As we watched, Samantha curled tighter into herself, whispering something that sounded like a mantra. I recognized the anxiety attack—one of Brid’s first charges was prone to them—and sat down next to her, wrapping her in my wings. Adnar’el did the same, and the fear fled from her mind. She looked up, surprised.
“I have been fortunate enough to find Laurel for her,” Adnar’el explained to me, brushing his wing fondly against the side of Samantha’s face. “Their relationship is a strong one, and Laurel is excellent support. But no human can be everything to any other.”
This made me smile—it was something he used to say often while I was still in training. “Then I shall try to be that missing piece while you are gone.” I looked at Samantha, whose body had relaxed out of that fetal curl, her eyes lifting to the ceiling. “Samantha, my name is Asa’el,” I said to her, “and I see who you truly are.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. Thinking nothing of them, she swept them away and slid off the bed to snatch a magazine from the desk. As she opened it, however, I could see the relief coming through her spirit.
When I turned back to Adnar’el, he was smiling with deep fondness. “It is little wonder that you have come so far, Asa’el,” he said. “I truly thank you.”
“No, thank you,” I said. “Everyone I meet teaches me something new. You are still my mentor, after all. Now, please—go and enjoy your Sabbath in peace, for I will be here for her.”
With one last expression of thanks, he spread his wings and went. As for me, I settled right back down next to my new friend, where she needed me.