The Angels' Pride Read online

  But more than anything she was feeling delight at being allowed into the Citadel. The Skybridge she had always loved for its incredible beauty. It was a long gentle slope that connected the Citadel to the palace, cutting straight through a wide stretch of sky. It was made of long spans of arches, floating on nothing. It was wide enough for several elephants to walk abreast along, apparently how it had been designed. It looked as delicate as spun glass and porcelain but was as strong as any other building.

  The final touch as they walked down it was the streams of cloud ripping themselves against it. She laughed in delight as they walked through a patch of cloud.

  She turned her head about, this way and that. Watching Angels flying away from the Citadel and walking back up the Skybridge. Due to some ancient magic, no one could approach the palace except via the Skybridge. You could leave any way you wanted.

  They passed numerous Lesser Angels and Ascended, but there were only a smattering of Elder. All nodded respectfully at Uriel, was it just her or was there fear in their eyes? When they saw her, on the other hand, their faces lit up, and she smiled back warmly.

  Her breath hitched in excitement as she stepped onto the solid pavers of the Citadel. The base of the Skybridge had always been a favourite of hers. It was hectically busy with all the traffic heading towards the palace, threading through the crowds of the Citadel Square. Angels swirled about their business, coming and going, through the marketplace.

  The Lesser didn’t need to eat, but the Ascended and Elder did, and there were plenty of Ascended these days. She wondered if the increasing numbers were in any way related to the talks about the Apocalypse. The air was rich with the perfumes of exotic foods and the not so pleasant smells of animals. It was so different from the palace. She loved it.

  Uriel led her through the market, along its many streets, under spiralling arches, through the shadows of towers and mansions. Along wide boulevards that were lined with the manors of forgotten Gods. The Citadel was beautiful in its diversity. The Palace was amazing but had a tendency to be white or gold. The Citadel, on the other hand, was decorated in the colours of the sky- azure blues, sunset oranges and pinks, sunrise reds and yellows, soft indigos and violets and even the occasional splash of rainbow green. There were even places dedicated to the night and storms- muted whites and greys, bruised blacks, blues and purple, deep dark blues and indigos that blended into black with sparkling lights. It was stunning, and complimented by the variety of plants, entwining themselves around the buildings.

  “These are where the Gods once lived. You can tell which region of the Earth they came from based on the architecture. This boulevard encircles the whole of the Citadel, beyond these manors and palaces is the edge of the island.

  “What happens if you fall off?”

  “You plummet to the Surface far, far below. Of course, this was never a concern for the Gods or for us Angels. However there was a time Gods found it amusing to push mortals off of the Citadel.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “Indeed, but it was one of the Gods lesser crimes.”

  “Does anyone live in the manors or are they completely abandoned?”

  “Completely abandoned. No one wants to live in them. There are the Palace and the apartment towers near the Skybridge.”

  It seemed like such a waste. The buildings though showing signs of battle and ruin were still beautiful. There was one manor that particularly caught her eye. It was huge, a sprawling frame that dominated the street and the skyline. Much of it was hidden behind lush gardens, but it was its sheer size and unique beauty that struck her strange. Was it a statement? Why did a God need a manor so big? It was pretty much a palace in itself.

  It was also black, jet black. The building was entirely dark, even the silver or gold window frames held dark windows. The roof was made of black tiles, and the door looked to be ebony. Even some of the trees were black.

  “This house once belonged to Hera. She was locked up by her husband to control her rage.”

  “How barbaric.”

  “It was justified. Zeus was a philanderer, and his own manor was huge to hold his many children and their mothers. Hera was a loyal and a jealous wife. She was the Queen of Heaven, with all the powers connected to that, and his infidelities drew her into a monstrous rage. She slaughtered all his living children and lovers then turned her attention to his palace while he was on the Surface mourning the loss of his mortal families. Little did he know that she was annihilating all trace of them from ever existing.

  His palace had been burned to the ground, every city that had housed a lover or child had been bombarded with meteors, lightning, floods, and Monsters. Her rage was unlimited, her wrath ferocious and undeniable. All the other Gods would have no part in it. They all sat back to let Zeus deal with his mistake.

  In the end, he chained her to her own manor, with the strongest spells he could find, forged into the strongest chains ever wrought.

  She was still chained in her manor when the War broke out.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She is still chained in there. She is no harm to anyone. She is bound, and her power base of followers is long gone. All she had left are a few priestesses that light the Olympic Flame. She is no threat to us, she lives there alone to atone for her sins.”

  “She must be terribly lonely.”

  “It is a fitting punishment. The Gods were cruel.”

  She couldn’t help but feel sorry for Hera. She knew how loneliness felt. The Gods may have been cruel, but the Angels were the fitting heirs of that cruelty. What had she ever done to be all but a prisoner in the Governing Palace?

  He continued to lead her along empty boulevards of abandoned manors. Some were sprawling palaces, others were smaller houses belonging to Demigods or Gods who spent more time on the Surface. She saw into forgotten cultures and beliefs.

  She learned that Heaven had a lot of scars from the War, many of which had not healed. Cracks divided some of the boulevards, ruins of once grand manors teetered on the edge of gaping holes. Even parts of the city centre showed damage that had not been repaired.

  She saw monuments to those lost during the War and he explained them as best he could. Nowhere did she see either of her parents’ names. She even saw statues of Humans, though they did little to sate her curiosity.

  She was having a lovely day when they were suddenly surrounded by a full contingent of guards. And not just any guards but Michael’s personal guard.

  “What is the meaning of this? How dare you raise a weapon at an Arch Angel.” He roared. People stopped to stare. Sariel bet this was the most excitement that had happened in ages for them. The Cherubim had not been sent to the Citadel to bring in someone in living memory.

  “Sorry my Lord but the orders are from the Council and Arch Angels. Lady Sariel must return to the palace immediately.”

  He was furious, he looked like he was about to strike Peter, which was not a good thing for anyone. Peter was one of the most powerful Ascended in Heaven, magically and politically. He was one of Michael’s favourites, Captain of the Cherubim, and led his men into battle in Michael’s absence. She didn’t want things made difficult for either Uriel or Peter.

  “I will comply with the Council’s request.” She had no choice anyway, it was this or be dragged back.

  Peter nodded to her respectfully before his men fell in around them for their walk back to the palace. Her heart sank with every step, spoiling her joy of the day. She didn’t even enjoy walking back across the Skybridge, where they had absolute right of way. All other Angels quickly scrambled out of their way.

  They were escorted right into the Council Chambers. All of the Council members were attending, as were all the other Arch Angels- even Azrael. This would be no ordinary meeting.

  Michael and Gabriel sat on their high thrones, their eyes slitted in disdain. Sitting below them on their own thrones, sat a confused looking Raphael, a resigned looking Azrael and a smirking Ar
iel. But then she was always smirking.

  Uriel was the first to speak; he was really annoyed “What is the meaning of this? This morning the Council ordained Sariel’s trip into the Citadel as a means to snap her out of her current state. She has spent the whole day learning about her own culture which she is shockingly ignorant about.”

  “The Council has changed its decision Arch Angel Uriel, and you will comply with the majority. Sariel is not to leave the palace under any conditions. She is very academically minded, the library will provide her all the knowledge she needs about her culture without the stress visiting the Citadel induces in her.” Gabriel’s imperial tone brokered no argument.”

  But Uriel pressed on “Stressed? Sariel was delighted in the Citadel. She mingled with the people and showed a remarkable level of concern for all the Angels. She has displayed a mature and conscientious mind that should be nourished not stifled. She is an Arch Angel and should be seen by the people. What kind of Arch Angel is confined to the Palace?”

  Sariel was still trying to grasp what they meant about her condition and stress when she heard him say that. She along with everyone else in the room took a sharp intake of breath. Gabriel was not one to be spoken to that way unless you wanted to be all but banished.

  But it was Michael that spoke while her eyes bored into Uriel. Sariel was surprised he didn’t spontaneously combust under that glare. “The Council’s decision is final. You have been over-ruled. Sariel’s health is of the utmost, we cannot waste her potential by having her distressed in such a manner. She will not leave the palace without my permission. I am her Guardian, and the Council agrees with me. We cannot risk her.”

  His shoulders had slumped, but he wasn’t quite done “What does she need a guardian for? She’s 1800 years old, you’re only 700 years older than her. You were younger than her when you served in the Armies of the Gods and when you fought to overthrow them. The world is different, she is at no risk.”

  “Maybe if you thought with your head instead of your cock you might see what the rest of the Council sees Uriel. Sariel is a fragile young girl in dire need of protection. She has so much potential, we cannot risk her!” Her scathing yell tore the last defence he had. He had nothing else to say in her defence, but it was the most anyone had ever said.

  She looked up at them all, studying each of the Council members. Old fools that had survived the War but were too scared to live. Instead, they hid behind the Arch Angels’ shadows. They had all condemned her to a life of imprisonment, it didn’t matter that it was in a palace. It was still only an ornate prison. It was so unfair of them to lock her up like this.

  “If I may speak?” She asked.

  “Denied! Escort her to her rooms, the Council has more important matters to attend to.”

  Peter and his crew instantly fell instep around her, ready to escort her away when Azrael stood up, instantly drawing all eyes to him “I will escort her.”

  No one argued as he descended the steps and approached her. He didn’t seem to walk so much as glide, and soundlessly. People shied away from him or averted their gaze. She saw flashes of pity as he escorted her out of the room.

  After the doors had boomed shut behind them, the only sound was her sandals hitting the floor as she walked. Despite him wearing a long black cowl, there was no noise, no swishing, no footsteps. Nothing.

  They walked in silence, it continued to draw out until Sariel had to speak “Uncle why do so many people seem scared of you?”

  “Because they are scared of me.”

  When he didn’t add any more, she asked: “But why are they scared of you?”

  His gaze flicked towards her then back to straight ahead “Even Immortals are scared of Death. Mortals have always feared it, though there are some who embrace it. Immortals may not be susceptible to the ravages of old age or disease, but we are not endless. Divine can kill Divine.

  Death is always feared in some way, or viewed with suspicion. Those who deal with it are feared as well.”

  “But Michael and I are Angels of Death too, why do they not shy away from us?”

  “Michael does not embrace his power, it is but one of his gifts he uses as he needs them. He is the Flaming Warrior, one of the heroes of the War. He rarely reaps or guides the dead on their way. As for you Sariel you have been stripped of your potential. Denied your birthright and your right to be an adult.”

  What did he mean by that? Stripped of her potential did not sound like being born with very little powers. Had something happened to her as a child?

  “Of the Elder Angels, only your father understood what it was like to be feared for being who you are. But he was different from me, he thrived and challenged himself. He became feared for other reasons than being a son of Death.”

  A son of Death? That sound familiar and yet the Angels never said it. It seemed an odd turn of phrase, almost like he hadn’t used it in a long time. Was it a term the Gods had used? Wait her father had been feared? For things other than being an Angel of Death. What had he done?

  “What reasons were those?”

  He said nothing seeming to ignore her question. She knew better than to press him, he would say what he wanted to only when he wanted to. Not even Gabriel or Michael pressed him, nor did the Council. He was the most autonomous of all the Angel Factions. He dealt with death, he had his own Angels to assist, and that was that. Now that she thought about it perhaps fear had allowed him his independence.

  He surprised her however once they were back at her rooms “There were many reasons why Samael was feared. His powers rivalled the Gods, he was a Son of Death, he had a cunning intelligence, was a brilliant general, a friend to many Monsters and Demons, mortals and immortals alike revered him, feared him, wanted him, wanted to be him. He was a law into himself, but he met his match in your mother.”

  “They were both feared?” why had she never been told any of this before?

  “Yes, they both were, still are. Even mortals still fear and revere them. And they had two powerful Angelic Children, each with a unique combination of their powers. Michael and Gabriel are powerful Angels in their own right, but their powers exceed that granted to them by faith.”

  He snatched her hand into his own, his were glowing black but what surprised her more was that hers had started to glow brown, no not just brown, there was a whole kaleidoscope of colours, mixing and flaring.

  “Just as I thought, your powers are not minuscule at all. Who ever heard of a powerless Divine, and with your parents? The sins of our family only continue to grow, but against an innocent…” he trailed off lost in some memory.

  He snapped back instantly, his eyes turning black “Once I leave this room it will be magically locked. There is, however, an escape route through the secret tunnels. You need to escape Sariel, run away as fast as you can.”

  She stared at him as he left, too stunned to react. By the time she jerked forward after him, her door was covered in a black shield. She walked out onto the balcony, sure enough, she could see a black tinge to the air, but there was also the blue and pink of other Angels. She had been sealed in by the whole Council.

  She ran to her closet, closing the doors behind her. She pushed through her clothes, using her still glowing hand to find the catch to the panel.

  It slid open to reveal the unblocked passage behind. She smiled in satisfaction before running down the corridor.

  Chapter 6

  Sariel was glad she had walked these corridors so often the past several months. Her feet automatically took her to Brigid’s prison. She was deeply troubled by everything that had happened today on top of everything she had learnt over the last few months. What was really going on in Heaven?

  She rushed into the prison, startling Brigid enough that she jumped.

  “Are there other prisons behind all these doors? Filled with Gods like you?”

  “Not like me, but weakened nevertheless. We are kept in a state of permanent weakness. Drained of our powers to supplement t
he powers of that wretched council. We are sustained enough to keep us alive and useful, but kept in a state of starvation.”

  “What would you do if you were free?”

  Brigid laughed “an impossible dream. I will never be free, the Angels are too strong. But if I were free I would go back to my beloved Islands. It has been so long, it needs me. The land cries out for me, it is sick. The Fae they call for me. It is not well” a tear rolled down her cheek.

  Sariel walked a little closer, what she was about to do would probably condemn her, and she doubted Azrael had intended for her to do this. But he had told her to run, and Brigid was her only ticket to the Surface.

  The room filled with a strange sizzling, they could both taste the lightning in the air and saw the pink flares and blue sparks flickering between them.

  “What’s happening?” She hadn’t expected any resistance spells, she didn’t know how to counteract them. She had thought the touch of an Arch Angel would have been enough.

  Brigid’s eyes opened in surprise before slitting in speculation “So the Council even binds its own. You Sariel have had your powers bound and siphoned away.”

  “What?”

  “This reaction only happens when two containment spells come into contact. It is one of the reasons we have all been contained in our separate prisons. Too much contact and they both react with each other.”

  “I have powers that have been kept from me” She slumped to the floor “But who would do such a thing? And why?” she whispered to herself.

  “It is an Arch Angel spell, like the one that contains me.”

  Sariel’s head snapped towards her, Brigid saw her assessing her. But she spoke the truth.

  Sariel’s mind was busy sorting through all the stray bits of information she had picked up over the last few months. Both Azrael and Brigid had said she had been cut off from her powers. She had seen her powers because of both of them. Suddenly she remembered Gabriel and Michael’s conversation. She was the spell they had been worried about. This was why she had never been allowed to the Surface, why she had been confined to the Palace. Her life of imprisonment had been so that Gabriel and Michael could continue to steal her powers.