The Tears of Time

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“Gabriel, what is this about?” Typhus asked, his wings twitching nervously, “What happened after you left the realm?”

“I can’t say yet Typhus. But all is well,” Gabriel replied, watching as the counsel filtered in. They were in the counsel courtyard, high up in the citadel. Gabriel stood on the speaking platform surrounded by both the counsel and what seemed like the majority of the rest of the angelic community. Nay, surely it was the entire Host, assembled together for the first time in what must have been millennia. Elanor and Time stayed hidden from sight, perched on the overhanging roof above, waiting silently.

Gabriel glanced furtively around, noticing the absence of Izra’el and the other elders. Ambriel and Dina sat to his left, more aware perhaps than others of the situation. Raphael lurked behind him, fuming silently at not being allowed to speak. Gabriel wondered about his decision as he looked back at his old friend, who only broke eye-contact to glare at the pillars. Typhus twitched next to him, looking as if he would speak, before sighing resignedly and taking a seat next to Dina.

Gabriel breathed deeply to calm his irrational fear. Little less than a month until the lunar eclipse, and Elanor was already battling the desire to eliminate them all. Had their interferences cost them so much? The Spirit had yet to return to them. Raphael’s continuous fear that the desertion was permanent still ate away at Gabriel’s thoughts.

The thick crowd of angels that surrounded him murmured apprehensively, seekers, casters, messengers and warriors alike invited to hear meant something important had happened. And currently, the topic on each mind was the End. There was little secret about Elanor’s powerful demonstration earlier today; a host of fifty had seen her eradication of a two higher level demons. The crowd parted painfully, the large numbers moving sluggishly to reveal Izra’el, who led the other elders. His face was drawn, and Gabriel knew they must have been discussing how to react.

Amitiel followed close behind Izra’el, accompanied by Dumah and Mihra. Finally, some distance after the group, Ramiel. Gabriel tensed as he saw the final Elder, a member of the counsel little seen or heard from. Ramiel was an unlikely enough presence, but Dumah? Her very nature, to remain silent, normally prevented her from attending counsels. The murmurs intensified at the sight of her.

The elders filed into the courtyard silently, stopping as they each stood in front of the six empty chairs that splayed out in a half crescent in front of the dais. They sat silently, each watching Gabriel with stern respect. Gabriel met their eyes in turn, leaving Ramiel for last, who still stood. The angel’s gaze flashed angrily, and a sudden image shattered Gabriel’s consciousness; an image of the dreadful destruction to come. It retained a question, and Gabriel nodded in answer.

Ramiel sat down, spreading his robes out carefully. Gabriel watched him for a second, before casting a lingering glance at the sixth empty chair; his own. Long had Gabriel relinquished the seat as an elder, but now the thought of his distance from his brethren saddened him.

“Angels!” Gabriel called, the murmuring immediately cut off.

Gabriel surveyed the gathering, and realised that there was not merely a large crowd here. The entire realm of the angelic had appeared, stood before him to hear of the end which had long been in sight.

“Angels! I call you hear for a reason you surely already know,” Gabriel said, his voice ringing loud and clear under the clear sky, “The reason being, that the last Sibylla has been found.”

Immediate speculation burst out amongst the Host, each turning to try and voice their fears or suspicions, some shouting directly at Gabriel and the Elders. Gabriel glanced around taking in the commotion, his eyes resting briefly on Dina, who sat quietly without comment. She returned the look with a quiet smile of encouragement.

“Angels!” Gabriel called them to order, “Years ago, the first Sibylla prophesied of our end times, which we have marked to have already begun. Many of us have seen the signs which have thrust themselves on us, and have realised the withdrawal of the Spirit. Though many of you will disagree, I believe that the Spirit only withdraws in order to return forthwith.”

A small number of mutters spread throughout the hall at this, but Gabriel continued regardless.

“Two days ago we were told by Time the whereabouts of her daughter. After trying to recover her, Lucifer managed to intercept her instead. Today we marched on the Halls, only to have Elanor freed before our eyes. Whilst we travelled back here, Fate visited us, and we diverted our course to Time’s window. During the journey, Elanor fell into the void.”

The noise was suddenly deafening, fear evident in the voices which rang throughout the hall, small snippets resonating in Gabriel’s ears.

“How could this happen?”

“What now?”

“Is this it? The end?”

“Idiot!”

“Where is she?”

“Time’s overprotection has caused this!”

“We still have a month, something-”

“Angels!” Gabriel roared, cutting off the tirade of fearful protests, “Elanor returned to us from the void.”

Stunned silence resonated through the room.

Ahead of him, Dumah’s face twisted into crooked smile, but she kept her silence. The rest of the Elder’s followed her example, Ramiel surveying the courtyard with narrowed eyes. He stood up, and spoke for the entire host.

“How is that possible?” he asked, his tone low and unquestioning, more of a statement of the actions impossibility.

“I do not know,” Gabriel answered, “Ask her.”