The Journey (16 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Ensley

BOOK: The Journey
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“How did this Daniel’s Angel appear?”

“Well, he basically describes him as a
glorious
man
, but Daniel was so terrified that he collapsed—fainted, passed-slap-out, I don’t know—right there on the river bank. He said the Angel was clothed in linen with a big golden belt around his waist. He said his body looked like beryl, his face like lightning, his eyes flamed like torches, and his arms and feet were as polished brass. Oh, and he said that when the Angel spoke, his voice sounded like a
whole
bunch of people were talking at the same time.”

Azazel smiled with only one corner of his mouth.

I shrugged my shoulders. “And I’m
certain
the Angel looked a terrible fright, seeing as what he’d been doing.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Angel told Daniel that he’d been fighting with someone called the Prince of the Kingdom of Persia for twenty-one days. Twenty. One. Days. I mean, come on. After someone,
anyone
, had been warring for three weeks straight… imagine how terrifying they would have looked—scratches, bruises, cuts, clothing rent, wings dipped in blood.” I shivered. “Anyway, the Angel told Daniel that the only reason he had made it to him when he
did
, was because Michael—one of the Chief Princes—had come to help him out with this other dude. Oh, and that when he was finished speaking with Daniel, the Angel said he had to go back to fighting that Persian demon-thing again, or whatever.”

“I know of the Angel you speak. His look
would
be terrifying to a mortal, especially during battle. I also know of Angels who have four faces and wheels instead of legs.”

“Oh yeah… Cherubim, right?”

Azazel nodded. “The same Angels men paint as precious babes… they have four wings and four faces—a man, a lion, a cherub, and an eagle. And they don’t turn their heads as
we
do, they go in the direction the appropriate face is looking… those wheels inside of wheels moving them about—eyes in every direction.”

“Creepy, huh?”

“To a mortal… I suppose they could be. As
I
could be as well.”

“Anyway… you can see why I didn’t have a clue
what
to expect.”

“Were you disappointed?”

“I was… shocked.”

“Yes… I remember.”

We both fell silent for several heartbeats.

“Hey… Tell me what you meant before by magically tragic.”

He took a deep breath and paused. “It would be tragic for you to share in my curse, yet magical to have such a friend at my side throughout the ages.”

“Fr-friend?”

He ignored my stuttered question.

“Let me see how we could make such a thing possible.” He glanced sideways at me. “First, you must seek out Gabriel.”

“G-
Gabriel
?”

“Yes… Gabriel, the blessed
Prince
. Tell him you love me and wish to join me here. Then you must do something
terrible
while he’s watching you.”

“Love? Terrible?”

“Yes, terrible. He won’t believe you have simply fallen for me by your words alone. You must do something atrocious that would warrant his wrath. Something like
I
would do.”

“Azazel, there’s no way in the world I would ever—”

“Oh, hush now, child.” He smiled softly as he gently patted my shoulder. “I was only teasing you. In truth, if you did thus—proclaim your devotion for me—Gabriel would probably just try to protect you. He’d come here and curse me further—place a rock upon my head as well.”

“Upon your
head
?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “So I could not continue to taint your precious little heart.”

“Y-you aren’t
tainting
me. I would never—”

“Shhh,” he whispered. “Now… show me the pictures.”

I just lay there, silently staring at his striking profile.

“…Azazel?”

“It was but jest, little one.”

When I didn’t say anything, he turned to face me.

“Do not look at me thusly, child.” He squeezed me a bit tighter. “And stop trembling. The last thing I want is for you to fear me.”

“I don’t fear you, Azazel. It’s just… sometimes I forget
who
you are. You put me at ease. I mean, you act so normal, so sweet. I have to keep reminding myself that you are
Azazel
.”

“Jem, I am not pretending to be anyone other than who I am. The Angel you see before you and the Angel you have read about… we are one in the same. Tell me, little one. Can
you
be wholly defined by a single act, a single day, a single moment in your life?”

“N-no. Well, at least I
hope
not.”

“And yet… I
have
been. I am not saying that what you read about me is not true. Nay, that would be a lie. Alas, that single epic decision is not the whole of the Angel lying next to you. Nay, not even the crumbs. Just like you, my fair-haired little friend, there is so much more to who I am.”

I didn’t say anything. I just rested my cheek against his side, listening to his strong, slow heartbeat.

The light from my phone had already faded away. The softly flickering candles hauntingly illuminated his ancient, cracked skin. Silent tears trickled from the corners of my eyes before I could stop them.

“Jem?”

“…Yes?”

“What you said a moment ago… about wishing you had a friend you could laugh with?”

“Yes?”

“I would very much like to be that friend.”

I didn’t say anything. I simply held my breath. I didn’t
mean
to. It just… happened.

“I know I am not a girl.”

I muffled a snicker as I glanced up at him. He was staring at the distant ceiling, smiling softly.

“I cannot join you for dinner whilst we whisper about the hoity-toity people sitting around us. I will never be able to sit with you in the sunlight. We cannot share a meal upon the ground surrounded by wildflowers as I listen to your silly fantasies about
boys
. And I will never stroll hand in hand with you through South America as we gaze at the wild orchids and pink dragonflies. I dream about those things, yes. Alas… such a day will never come.”

“…Azazel.”

He turned to face me. “The reason you do not claim any close friends, little one, is because of
you
. Not them.” He brushed my hair back as he spoke. “I sensed your fear of emotional attachment when first we met. Remember?”

I didn’t answer.

He smiled again. “You changed the subject. You would not speak about it then. Same as now.”

Still, I held my silence.

“I want to be your friend, Jem. Yet I will leave the subject with this… Who could I possibly betray you to? Tell me, little one. Of all the things that cause you fear in a relationship—unfaithfulness, back-stabbing, lying, or even death—which of those could you lay at my feet?”

“None… I suppose.”

“That is correct. I will always keep your secrets, always cherish our time together. I will be the trusted companion you have forever denied yourself.”

I swallowed hard, but didn’t speak.

“And as you well know… the excuse you used before does not hold true with me.”

“Excuse?”

“Yes. You said there was no point in bonding too deeply with mortals—they die.” He squeezed my shoulders a bit tighter. “
I
will not die on you. Promise.”

I almost chuckled.

“Now, show me where you have been and all that you have learned. Bring your world down into my desolate chambers, and I will gift you with knowledge not found in any
book
.”

 

*****

 

“Where did you say you found this structure?”

I glanced from the picture of the old cross-shaped church, up to the Angel’s sharp profile. “Near the Carpathian Mountains. Do you know them?”

He shook his head. “The names of places are not now what they once were. I cannot be certain where it is you speak of. Yet… I
have
seen woodwork akin to this.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Eons ago.”

“Eons, huh?
We
believe man didn’t possess such knowledge,
eons
ago.”

“And that is because your race is yet simple—infantile in your understanding.”

I rolled my eyes, where he couldn’t see.

“Also,” he continued. “I never said it was
man
.”

“Stop right there, Angel. I’m not ready to delve any deeper than that.”

He smiled. “I will change that… in time.”

When I didn’t respond, he used his one free hand to gently play with my curls. It was extremely relaxing… unsettlingly so.

“And what secrets did you glean within this marvelously made structure?”

“Oh… Well, the book I had stumbled across in Japan told me of the one I needed in Hronsek. I have it… here.”

I pulled it from my bag and flipped to the ancient pages that had caught my attention.

“See here where it reads about the seven seals?”

He squinted at the words. “The seven seals… What exactly are you the Witness
for
, little one?”

“The fulfillment of the last prophesy.”

“The end of days,” he barely mumbled. “Tell me. Will the seals soon be broken?”

“Best I can tell… they already
have
been.”

“What?
All
of them?”

I nodded.

“And how do you know this? Even Angels are not privy to the end of days.”

“Well, I don’t know
what
day will be the last day. My job is to decipher about where we are—during my lifetime—in the fulfillment.”

“How are you to know
that
?”

“By studying history. I can’t record what
will
happen, only what
has
happened. I don’t have any idea if my generation is the last one or not. I’m simply to write down how much of the Revelation has come to pass. Then, the Witness who follows me will take up their quill where mine left off, so to speak.”

“If all seven seals have been broken, then the end of all things is upon us.”

“Well… yes
and
no. You see?” I opened my journal. “We are basically at the end of the prophesy, yeah, but what’s left could take thousands of years to come to pass.”

“Or… a single day.”

“True. Some of the fulfillment happened in rapid succession, while a thousand years separate some others.”

“So… the four Horsemen have come forth?”

“Yeah, a long time ago. In truth, I didn’t think you’d know about this kind of stuff. You were banished
ages
ago.”

“What is, has been.”

I looked into his hauntingly beautiful eyes for a quiet moment. “Yeah… whatever
that
means. Anyway—”

“Who was the rider of the white horse?”

“Well, it wasn’t really a
who
. More like a
when
. The prophesy was revealed to a man named John in like 95 or 96 AD. That was during the rise of the Roman Empire. If you follow along with Roman history, you can
clearly
see where the first four seals—the Horsemen—came one right after the next.”

“What happened with this Roman?”

“Rome, actually—it’s a country. Romans are the people living there. At
that
time, Rome ruled the world. The seals—or Horsemen—came in order: white, red, black, and pale. Horses usually represent war, right? Especially during
that
time. The colors are pretty self-explanatory. White–purity. Red–blood. Black–death. Pale–sickness.”

“Such is the case, yes.”

“I’m not gonna go into a
super
detailed version for you. Number one… you probably don’t care all that much. And number two… you weren’t roaming around during that time so a lot of it’s just gonna be lost on you.”

He smiled with only one corner of his mouth. “I believe I can follow along.”

“Yeah, whatever. Nutshell version, nonetheless. This all has to do with Christianity, right? White horse–purity and prosperity. The rider was given a bow, a crown, and he went forth to conquer. The bow–war. The crown–a laurel, duh.”

“Why
duh
?”

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