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Genesis
May 4, 2005 10:16:04 GMT -5
Post by Jade-ness on May 4, 2005 10:16:04 GMT -5
[glow=pink,2,300]Chapter Six: What Goes Around...[/glow]
Hope:
Ah, she had the patience of a Saint and she remained quite still and watched the young Angel go through his own myriad of thought and emotion. He had a rather large choice to make and she could not help him, she could not tell him anything more than he already knew…only it was this that made things a little more difficult. The lack of his full memory was hardly fair. How could anyone make such a decision without it. However, her silence was essential. As much as she would have loved to have told him all about it, she still remained as patient as she looked. She knew in a way that there would always be a place for him here. Even if it were now as an Outsider…he’d still, one day, when the time was right have a way back. If only to look in.
She and her kind didn’t do too badly, they were family. More so then they were here. She had a life, she had a husband she loved and adored more than she could ever put into words. She had children scattered through the realm…she had who and what she was, and she could hold her head up with pride and smile.
It was that smile Maedryn would see as he re-opened his eyes and saw for himself what he needed to. Nodding her agreement as he’d said the Council were foolish. They were indeed, they’d bitten off far more than they could handle. If they’d wanted to keep him in Servitude then they shouldn’t have let him have so much.
“Never say never” she meant that and it reflected in every part of her. Taking a step closer to lean in close and whisper “Where there’s a will there’s a way…and rules…they were always made to be…” she paused a moment and chuckled to herself. Warm sweet breath passing his ear before she continued “Bent a little”<br> His hand was taken up and held tight, through the reassurance she only sought to give so freely. “I’m sure we’ve all done some bad things in our time…if we didn’t, there’d be nothing to forgive. Life would get a little…dull” She thought of her own fights and squabbles, they were nothing, not really. Not in the Grand Scheme of things but its what made life…worth living.
Her own wings were tucked away as she turned toward the portal home. Only pausing a moment to add an afterthought for Valefor Bring me the bill in person darling. I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement. By the way…you should have realised you’d lost the moment he chose to call on ‘us’. And…for the record, its rather sad to be drinking alone don’t you think?
She didn’t wait for a response. He was after all just another demon, albeit the Prince of Thieves…the Patchwork Demon himself but she hardly thought he had the gall to face off a Seraph, even if she was only an Outsider.
“As you wish”
She whispered to Maedryn. Stepping in close, teasing out three wings on one side to curl them about his form. It only took a moment to place herself where she wanted to be. He’d asked to go home and the best she had for him was - as they shimmered like a haze from the heat of a summers day, the beach, a quiet little cove not far from the docks. – The sights, the sounds would all filter in gradually - The cry of the gulls overhead, the distant clanking from the pier from the fishermen…the hushed banter of the crowds through the streets on market day. - All it took was a step, a comforting smile and the reassurance to take it, knowing there would be nothing required in return.
Hope did what she did best and she loved every single moment. This…was her life. Or at least a small part. The rest she’d have to face, just as soon as her young charge found his footing.
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Genesis
May 4, 2005 10:17:43 GMT -5
Post by Jade-ness on May 4, 2005 10:17:43 GMT -5
The business man walked on into the park. It was a cold day today, just as it usually was in this city during the winter. He could see his breath in the icy air. What a fitting torture for these creatures, Asmodae thought as he watched people huddle in their jackets and push past one another towards home or back to work. Just beyond the fountain in the center of the park sat an old man hunched over a table. Asmodae shook his head and started walking over towards him.
“I should have known you would show yourself sooner or later.” The demon grimaced as he looked down at the worn out wooden chess board laid out on the table. The old man looked up and adjusted his glasses, squinting as if he didn’t know who it was who was talking to him. “Care to play a game of chess son? Give an old man a bit of pleasure?” Asmodae rolled his eyes and sat down across from the older gentlemen as other business types in three piece suits hurried by. What a charade he thought as he picked up the polished black pawn in front of him and moved out to start the game.
“What are you doing here, Yves?” Asmodae asked after the first few moves, never taking his eyes off the board. The old man just shrugged. “Just checking on you, my boy, nothing more.” Asmodae frowned and took one of Yves’ pawns with a knight. “Somehow I doubt that. What information do you want, or are you just here to gloat about Maedryn? He wasn’t that important to us. As you can see, the Pits are still functioning just fine without him.” The old man simply smiled and took the knight with a bishop. “Asmodae, you are still thinking so small for one who wishes to be so big.”
Asmodae snorted. “As if you have any idea how big or small my plans are. I lost a few pawns and a few opportunities, but it was you that taught me every loss creates a window for a bigger win.” He said, taking the bishop off the board with a pawn. Yves smiled and took his move. “Of course.” Was the only reply.
Asmodae was slightly annoyed by that. “You never did ever give me a straight response. I always felt like you were hiding something from me. Your attitude probably had as much to do with my leaving as mine did.” Yves took another move and did not respond. Asmodae grew even more annoyed. “I hate feeling like even now I need to justify myself to you. We’re equals now. Enemies, but equals never the less. Without me the Hierarchy would fall into chaos and you know that.” Yves nodded and watched the board intently.
“Damn you, at least answer me.” Asmodae snapped as he folded his arms over his fine cashmere suit. Yves glanced up with a small smile and laid a finger to his lips before going back to studying the board. Picking up a few pieces and moving them around he placed his king in the corner and surrounded it with pawns and the queen. Asmodae perked an eyebrow. He’s castling… why would he do that? I’m not even threatening him yet. Yves never takes pre-emptive defenses in chess. He always reacts… he never acts. The demon frowned and studied what he’d been left with, then moved his rook to the far corner of the board on the other side of Yves’ castle.
“Stop patronizing me for the love of God.” Asmodae’s ire was rising. Yves continued to move his pieces erratically much to Asmodae’s dismay. There was no pattern to it anymore, or had he just forgotten already what it was like playing against Yves in his element? “Your problem, Asmodae, is not that you ever needed to justify yourself to me, but that you became obsessed with it as a cover for justifying you to yourself. Your power is nothing but a crutch for you, and somewhere deep inside you know that.” Yves remarked as he took one of Asmodae’s pawns.
Asmodae frowned and moved the rook into the path of the castled queen. “If I was really as unsure and as witless as you seem to think I am we wouldn’t be at war still, would we Yves?” Asmodae asked as he tried to lure the queen from its protective guard. Yves chuckled and left the queen where it was and moved a knight to an empty spot. Asmodae lofted an eyebrow and then took the queen off the board. Yves quickly disposed of the rook with one of his own. Asmodae frowned and took his move.
“No one said you were witless, my boy.” Yves said as he moved a knight up towards the demon’s king. Asmodae’s eyes went wide and his teeth clenched as he realized that he had just been forked and was now in check. Eyes darted around the board for any way out. “You play the game like you’re the one moving the pieces. Your fatal flaw is always that you fail to see that you are one of them, not the mover. You may have lost points on your personal scoreboard and still broke even, Asmodae, but did you once look at how your losses effected those that can effect you?” Yves sat back from the table. “By the way you can stop looking. That’s a checkmate.”
Asmodae’s face twisted around in anger, but he forced it down instead of boiling over. He stood up and rearranged his scarf. “You won a game, Yves. Not the war. Just a battle. You know it and I know it and we both also know that this isn’t going to end anytime soon. We’ll see each other again, Yves.” And with that he stalked off into the park back towards the corporate building he ‘worked’ at. The old man reset the board and called after him with a gentile smile, “Take care son! See you next time.”<br>
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Genesis
May 4, 2005 10:18:22 GMT -5
Post by Jade-ness on May 4, 2005 10:18:22 GMT -5
The heels of a finely polished pair of spats clacked on the stone floor. Oddly enough they were clacking in time to the bouncy tune Valefor was whistling as he made his way down the hall towards a heavy stone door. Ah, Hierarchy meetings. Had to love them. They pop up at the most bloody inopportune time. Like when you’re about ask some chick at your nightclub for her number, or right after you get in the bath... Valefor was in a far better mood than most were today, however, and had not only taken the time to shine his shoes and slick back his hair, but also the clean and pressed the beautiful patchwork coat he was so known for. Today, obviously, was going to be a good day for Valefor.
The door swung open as the cheery demon-thief bounced his way in the door to the tune of some old 1940’s big band song playing in his head. “Good morning everyone! Let’s see those pearly whites. Smile for me guys, it’s a beautiful day someplace far away from here!” No one laughed, of course. No one ever really found Valefor to be anything other than annoying. Even that didn’t seem to phase him today, however. Stopping just inside the door he took a few seconds to survey everyone.
Belial was obnoxiously and compulsively playing with a zippo. No surprise from a guy who lived next to a lake of fire. Several people were missing at the moment including Haagenti which wasn’t surprising since Valefor had killed him recently. But Beleth was gone, and Astaroth as well. Pretentious nobodies that didn’t have the time for a meeting... They were always a hindrance anyhow. Beleth was always depressing and far more concentrated on her gothic makeup to pay attention, and Astaroth was always caterwauling about getting a vent system put into his section of the Pits because the heat was just unbearable. Tough cookies, buddy. Valefor thought with a cruel smile. Ba’al was looking particularly sour and glared at Valefor as he entered the room, and hadn’t stopped glaring at him since then. Valefor gave him a little wave. Saminga looked like he was trying to hide, but sitting next to Belial made one hard to overlook. Asmodae was noticeably missing.
Pity. He would probably never find out what Valefor had done. Tipping off Ba’al as to who actually stole those plans was too easy, especially in return for the deal he made with the angels. When he had been asked by Israfael he knew he had one shot, and if he talked to the right people and played his card correctly, he could shoot the moon. He shot it alright, right outta the bloody sky! The self made common demon’s demon. That’s what the papers would say. If they published any papers, which they didn’t, but that’s what they would call him if there were any!
Normally Valefor would have sank down into Haagenti’s old seat and waited for the meeting to begin. Today he was taking his time. He didn’t drop his things off at the usual spot reserved for the lowly or new members of the Hierarchy. Much to everyone’s dismay he sauntered casually towards the end of the table still whistling a Johnny Coltrane song that was the only palpable thing to be heard above the grumbles and groans of the demons before him.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” Saminga grunted as he played idly with a human finger in his seat beside Belial. The Prince of the Flame flicked his zippo maniacally and stared compulsively into the blaze as Saminga slumped further into his chair. “Something tells me we were better off under Asmodae. What does the Big Man see in this joker, anyhow?” Ba’al tapped his pencil on the table across from the two thoroughly un-amused demons and glared at them. Saminga barely had two brain cells to rub together, and he least of any of them should be talking so loudly.
Though Ba’al could hardly deny the truth of it, either. As much as he hated Asmodae at the moment, and really always had, this was just too degrading to not be upset. In fact, he didn’t even begrudge Asmodae for not showing his face at the meeting. It would have been a crippling blow to one’s ego, but in his position Ba’al was sure the Prince of the Game was already fairly broken and would be for quite some time. Ba’al winced for Asmodae as those spats clacked by him on the stone floor of the board room. Even the sound of the ice cubes clinking in Valefor’s glass of expensive smelling Chivas Regal was grating on his ears.
Valefor ran his hand along the beautiful finish on the dark red table and set his glass down on the end. There was what he had been waiting for since he had first gotten here; the oversized leather studded armchair in front of the fireplace. Running his hand over the back of the seat Valefor’s lips curled upwards with excitement, and taking his sweet time he lowered himself down into the base. Taking a moment he inhaled the scent and let himself lean back in the monstrously big seat of power before leaning forwards. He didn’t question the way of things, or the Big Man’s ideas, or the existence of God. He didn’t really care about those things. The game would always be there whether he got the answers or not, so his focus would remain on being the best damn player in it.
Putting his elbows on the table top and clasping his hands he looked down the long table of disdainful demons with eyes that were laughing at each and every one of their pathetic hides. “Alright ladies… I’m sure you all got the memo. So let’s get this meeting started, shall we?”<br>
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Genesis
May 4, 2005 10:18:51 GMT -5
Post by Jade-ness on May 4, 2005 10:18:51 GMT -5
The winds had finally calmed as night set wearily in the sky. The white fires of Michael’s cathedral still burned hot against the velveteen blackness even as everything else was settling into a deep sleep. Michael never slept. He had a war to fight, and sleep was something afforded only to the humans it was being fought over. Down below the clouds the lights of the city twinkled at him and winked out slowly, one by one until only a few watchfires still flickered in the darkness. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The sweet voice from behind him asked with a bemused tone. Michael nodded with a half smile.
“I heard about your victory today. Congratulations. One of Ba’al’s lieutenants… that should serve as a fairly big blow to him.” Israfael leaned on the windowsill Michael was sitting on and patted his arm. “You’ve done many people proud today.” Michael only nodded as his eyes drifted to the swirling portal. Israfael’s eyes followed and her lips closed with a slight smile. “You miss him already.” Michael only made a face, knowing he could not hide from that sad truth, but not quite ready to hear the words.
Israfael said nothing. Michael was not the sort to preach to. If he wanted to talk, she would wait for him to do so. As time passed she wondered exactly what he was thinking about. That stern face, piercing eyes, all the shrouded emotion that a soldier could never let get in his was. But what happened if it did?
“He got under my skin.” Was the simple statement and Isrfael nodded and took Michael’s hand. “In a war like this, you care, but you can never care too much. You lose everyone, it’s just a matter of when and how. People die. Angels die. And when they do, we can only hope whoever’s up there takes pity on them.” Strangely enough, for the words he was saying, Michael’s tone held no bitterness. It was fact. “Sometimes though, when you lose something special, it gets under your skin.” Israfael looked out over the starry night. “Are you proud of him?” She asked.
Michael broke a smile. “Of course.”
Israfael nodded. “He made a good choice, Michael.” Michael squeezed her hand and nodded as she seemed to grab a thought that made her smile. “It was the first time he’s made one. He’s finally starting to understand that there’s no mystical design, no grand structure forcing us to be what we are. With all of the changes Maedryn went through to fit the paradigms he wanted to be, he was always still a stranger to himself.” She dropped her copper eyes to the marble for a moment. “What about what you said before, about him not being able to escape the war?” Michael shrugged. “No one can escape that. War is the engine of life. War is struggle, and without that, we’d all stop trying for something better and just lay down and die. No matter where he goes, he’ll fight a war. It’s just the way it is. What matters is what he does about it. It isn’t the war that makes any of us what we are, it’s what we do during it.”<br>
Israfael laid her head on Michael’s arm. “Sometimes, Michael, there’s no other rationale except that children grow up eventually.” Michael was still looking out over the stars, but Israfael was not so blind that she couldn’t see the tears welling up that those silver eyes refused to cry. Its alright Michael my darling, Angels are not perfect beings. The God whose face we never see is the only perfect one among us. If you wish to cry, then cry. All the pontifications in the world can’t bring your son back. Michael’s lips twitched as if they were going to smile, but instead he laid his cheek on Israfael’s head and closed his eyes.
“You know Michael, I was thinking…” Michael opened his silver eyes and looked down towards her face. “We don’t even know what God has planned for them, or for us… what if all this time we spent wondering about it is for nothing? What if there is no plan and this chaos is the plan? What even free will is so strong even God can’t change it? For lack of a better euphemism, what if there is nothing up in the sky but air? I know that must sound so stupid, especially coming from me. But sometimes I wonder.” Michael wrapped an arm around Israfael’s shoulder. “Then I suppose that would mean our beliefs and decisions matter more than ever before.”<br>
Perhaps she was right, perhaps there was no cosmic arrangement up there and they were only beings of their own making. No one knew the plan, except maybe Yves, which is why they chose to trust him even when they disagreed with him. They never knew when there could be more in play, and they knew he couldn’t tell him that either. Some things were better left to the imagination, he supposed. One day, when all things were whole again, he hoped, perhaps Maedryn would find that part of himself he was looking for. Maybe they’d all find that part of themselves they were looking for.
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Genesis
May 4, 2005 10:19:59 GMT -5
Post by Theoren Roullier on May 4, 2005 10:19:59 GMT -5
Eyelids felt heavy, but opened nevertheless. Beneath them were no longer golden irises, but those of a sweet caramel brown color. The angel sat up, spitting out a mouthful of grass as he did and blinked. There was sun on his face, there was grass beneath him, and the sound of birds waking to the morning filled his ears. Could it really be…? A few pieces of red hair flopped into his face as he sat upright with a jolt. Staring at them for a moment, a small and incredulous smile spread over his lips. Looking around him he could already recognize the scenery. This was Ulsterian territory, and it was Ulsterian soil sticking to his face. She had brought him back right where he had wanted to go… back to…<br> And just like that the memories hit him like a brick across the face. His Guild, the tavern… Lydia, Yullen, sweet lilac Lillith dancing in his arms, the Crimson Dawn and the smell of the sea on a windy day, the port town of Emain Macha and the beautiful golden haired woman with an angel’s face mourning his death high in the towers of the castle. He remembered it all. The question was, what could he go back to?
He stood, wobbly at first as he forgot that muscles took a while to get used to when one didn’t have wings. The loosely bound robes had been torn in the transition and now looked like no more than a sheet covering him up. Surveying the horizon he could see there was a town about a half mile off or so. With little other choice and a pang of hunger in his stomach, he set off for it.
Everyone thought he was dead. There was Daniel and Amariette and the rest of the Ulsterian citizens that were glad of that fact, though they would never know exactly how or why he died. He certainly couldn’t go begging to their doors now, or even let them know he was alive. Heaven and Hell might leave him alone, but here in this world he was still a criminal. He could not go straggling back to Lillith. Aeron was long gone and the Luminatti women had their own problems to deal with. He would never burden Lillith with his. The Guild had probably fallen back into remission like the cancer everyone thought they had beaten the first time, its members disbanding. Kahlan and Willow… He stopped for a moment to savor that memory. But he couldn’t just waltz back into the castle. He was still wanted by enemy governments, he couldn’t put them at risk.
That meant there was only one thing to go back to, and it was still docked and sitting neglected in the royal shipyard in Emain Macha.
Something tickled his leg. Reaching beneath the robe he found a ‘gift’ that had been left for him in the form of a pure white feather. He knew what it was, for he had seen one before- it was Hope’s feather, and the place he had seen such a thing was on Lydia’s bow. Lydia. He wondered where she was now, not that he couldn’t find her. After all, unlike the Seraphim council Hope had left him with all his memories intact, which meant he could utilize his race to its fullest ability.
The town was drawing near. From the outskirts it didn’t look very familiar. In fact it was so small it probably wasn’t even on any maps. It was just a farming outpost east of the mountains people had taken up in. That was good, it kept his cover well. As he stumbled, rubber legged, barefoot and hardly clothed at all into the main town square an older woman looked up at him from the well she was drawing water from. Her brow furrowed in confusion at the sight of such a thing. “Young man, are you alright?” she asked, standing up to get a better look at the man with the fire red hair.
He looked up with a sheepish smile and tried to look a little more decent but only managed to wrap the sheet like robe around his waist and tie it off on his side. “I… am a bit lost.” He admitted, the strange and accent laiden voice startling even him for a moment. She looked even more confused. “Lost? How’d you get all of the way out here? There’s no towns for miles.” She exclaimed. He rubbed the back of his neck with a boyish grin. “If I could ‘member Ma’am, I’d surely tell ya. But I ain’t got no recollection a’what happened t’me.” He said hoping his charm would see him through the lie.
And it did. She seemed more than convinced. “You poor thing! Must have hit your head, or gotten robbed! Come on inside now and let me fix you some breakfast, maybe it will help you feel better.” She insisted, picking up his hand in hers and tugging him towards the cottage.
It was all he needed. He had come back with nothing once, now he was here, only this time he had his freedom- he could do and say and be whatever he wanted, no strings attached. Free to do as Hope and the other Outsiders did and enterprise himself however he saw fit, today it was the heart of a middle aged farmer’s wife- tomorrow who knew? That trademark old grin flashed over a row of perfect teeth, the voice oh so recognizable to him now. “T’anks much, Ma’am.”
Theoren Roullier was back.
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