It had been several months since Sariel had first seen Brigid but she had continued to meet with her, as well as Patrick and Mary. They were forever answering her endless questions as her mind digested what she had been told.
Her behaviour had caused alarm not only for Michael but also for the rest of the Council. She had been taken off her humility cleaning in the hopes that that would correct her conduct. But the Sariel everyone had known seemed lost. Instead was a vacant girl who did exactly as she was told but didn’t seem to be inside anymore.
While Gabriel was both pleased and concerned by this turn of events, the other Arch Angels were getting greatly concerned. Except Azrael, who had not been in Heaven for several months. It was Uriel most of all who was concerned about her, having always had a soft spot for her.
It was his concern that had caused him to seek out special Council permission to escort Sariel into the Citadel. Which was why this morning he was knocking on Sariel’s door once Michael and Gabriel had gone to the Surface to deal with a civil war, to sow the seeds of religious control.
Sariel answered the door, her sleepy eyes acknowledging him. She shuffled backwards to allow him in. He was surprised to find her room cluttered with various books, scrolls, and tablets. A casual glance told him she was reading up on everything from architecture to warfare to weather patterns.
“Your tastes seem rather eclectic, Sariel.”
“My interests vary depending on what I’m reading.” She had recently been reading journals by the numerous servants of Athena, Sekhmet, Odin, and Anu. It was fascinating reading their collective views on similar events. Most of their servants had been content with their place and treatment. Both Lucifer and Michael had served under both Athena and Sekhmet at the same time. They had once been comrades.
“How can I help you, Uriel?”
“I’m here because the Council has granted you permission to be escorted around the Citadel today.” She squealed in delight. He was surprised by the absolute shock and wonder that flashed across her face. Was it really so rare for her to get to leave the palace?
She dashed away, the sounds of running water, splashing, muttering, clattering, and flapping echoing back to where he waited. He sat down next to a pile of books, curiously looking at them. She did seem to have very eclectic taste, piles seemed randomly chosen; there was a pile made up of books on blood, fermentation, insanity, and ancient Egyptian wars. Another pile was made up of books about spiders, weaving, engineering, warfare, Athenian Naval tactics, swords, and olives. The one on his other side had books about ravens, horses, warfare, and storms.
Something about them seemed oddly familiar, though the Arch Angel could not place what.
There was an even weirder collection on her coffee table. Books and scrolls about death, diseases, and reaping. There were a lot of books, scrolls and especially tablets about magic. Littered across the whole collection were texts about Angels.
His attention was drawn to a thin red book poking out from under some scrolls. Intrigued, Uriel pulled out the journal to see who she was reading about. The crest was burned on, a flaming sword beneath a halo. She was reading one of Michael’s more recent journals thankfully. He should mention it to Michael.
He looked up as she walked in. She was a vision. Ornate white over-robes, decorated with gold, bronze, and metallic pink. She looked every inch the Arch Angel, when in Heaven. Her black wings caught the reflections well, making them shine with a pink iridescence. It was a pity she had no access to her magic; her innate beauty would match Gabriel’s.
He felt suddenly underdressed in his armour, being so used to the other Arch Angels living in their armour. Well, except Azrael but he always wore his long black shroud. Gabriel and Ariel were really the only ones to wear anything other than their armour and then they tended to look imperial.
Sariel simply looked delicate and beautiful.
He wondered how the Citadel would respond to her. The powerless Arch Angel looking neither soldierly nor imperial
They stopped underneath the grand statues guarding the palace. They were of two Elder Angels, male and female. Surprisingly they didn’t look like any of the Arch Angels but were rather generic.
Sariel had recently read that before these statues had stood sculptures of Uranus and Nut, both had claimed to have built Heaven and had left the statues as a reminder. Both Primordials had long since returned to Chaos. She wondered how either would feel to see what they had created ruled by Angels.
From where they stood, she could see straight down the Skybridge that connected the ancient Palace to the main square of the Citadel. She could see the bridge disappearing into the tall cluster of towers that dominated the heart of the Citadel, and the sprawling manors beyond.
All had been constructions of the Gods.
The Palace, which now housed the Arch Angels, the Elder Angels and their servants, had originally been used only as a meeting place. It was where the Gods had chosen to convene and play their game of empires. It had been neutral territory, belonging to none and everyone. It was why it was so stunning, generations of Gods and other Divine had added to it with constructions, decorations, and artwork. It was the one place they worked together cohesively.
Despite the Palace being large enough to house all the Gods, they had all preferred living in their own manors. Most of which were within the Citadel, it was the only city in Heaven, but there were some scattered across the various islands that made up Heaven.
Not all the Gods had lived in Heaven, though. Most of the Mother Goddesses tended to live on the Surface in their garden; Eden, Avalon, Tír na nόg, or Arcadia, to name a few. They preferred living on the Surface or floating in spirit form in the Lifestream. For they needed the connection to Life to be nourished and give back to it. They had a special relationship with the environment.
Then there were the Underworld Gods, who lived in their ethereal domains. Some by choice, some by punishment. Usually, most had been shunned by the Divine that lived in Heaven. Ironically enough, they had escaped the Purge of Heaven, they might be trapped in the Underworld, but they were presumably still alive.
As Uriel led her out onto the Skybridge, she felt a sense of loss and freedom. Melancholy at what Heaven must have been like when the Gods ruled and all the Divine lived in relative harmony. Many things had been mentioned in the journals in passing, she had had to piece together what they must have looked like.
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 was only a smattering of Elder Angels. 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 purples, deep dark blues and indigos that blended into black with sparkling lights. It was stunning, and complemented by the variety of plants, entwining themselves around the buildings.
“These are where the Gods once lived. You can tell which region of the Surface 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?” Sariel asked.
“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.”
Uriel nodded. “Indeed, but it was one of the Gods’ lesser crimes.”
“Does anyone live in the manors or are they completely abandoned?” she asked.
He shook his head. “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.”
Uriel shrugged. “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 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?” Sariel asked, curious and horrified in equal measures.
“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.” Sariel felt great empathy for the Goddess.
Uriel’s words were empty of any compassion. “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 learnt 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 Uriel 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, the Cherubim.
Uriel was furious. “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.”
Uriel 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 soldiers 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. At least this way she could have some small measure of dignity.
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 the absolute right of way. All other Angels quickly scrambled out of their way.
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