Savage Divinity

But then, that is the way of these things, I suppose. Those that stay are pale imitations of the things that have left, and what once was never will be again. It never can be again, for a passing moment in time is all that will ever repeat itself, and even its repetition rings dully after a short while. The same span of time, but never the same time; once passed, it is gone into eternity, lost forever in this cycle that might be repeating itself on another planet.



If this world is made into dimensions – if those dimensions are only extensions of what really is, the what are we? If we were to be together one day, and apart the next, who is to say that we never were together and I was simply remembering what my mind thought should go there, to fill a gap? That is the power of memories, the power of the mind. It can change, convert itself.



Once I might have thought this was terrible, that my sacrifice was worthy. Now, I accept things as the way they are. Things have changed, that I know. These wings that are now upon me used not to be there. They are new to me, and new too, to this world. I am a symbol now, or so he tells me, constantly. I am there to shine for those who cannot see beyond their faces. I called Him back into being.



Or so he tells me.



I know better than to believe his lies. His words are poison. He speaks to me, in my ear, always, as though he is speaking to me alone, when we both know this is a play conducted for all viewers to watch. He whispers, careful to let his breath cross my face with its sour and sweet smell. It burns my nostrils – this reminder of what he is, and what I used to be. What I no longer can claim to be.



He has sentenced me to this, I think.

He knew they would fail, but in their failure was his success. Aron and Asher – he used them, but even more than that, he used them to use me. Confounding nature! How does this planet work then, that upon their loss they were reunited with the very army they had sought to destroy, and taken home, embraced as brothers?



And yet here I am, he who stood by their side from afar, urging the ruler of the Underworld to a course of action he might not have taken. Aron and Asher go free now, but… I ask of myself now. Where am I? Hidden away in this place, kept secret from the others who lived. I suppose they tell glorious stories about their escape.



I suppose they have forgotten me.



I almost wish they have.



I do not wish to be recalled.



For it is with flames that my name would be remembered, not ashes.



I wish no memory beyond silver fog.



This place can give that to me.



This place, with this master.



This place, with cold.



This place, alone.



I am gone.



xxx



Epilogue



"Cassiel, get in here!"



The pale haired boy blushed and raced over to the tent. "M\'sorry, mama!" he exclaimed, slipping inside. "\'Twas just that Ananchel invited me out for play –"



"You still have lessons," came the scolding reply. "You\'ve kept your Master waiting."



Properly ashamed now, Cassiel ducked into the tent, and his mother disappeared, leaving him alone with his Master.



Cool grey eyes appraised the young male. "I suppose I should rebuke you as well…"



Cassiel flinched. He hated it when he was reprimanded.



"However, I think that best a lessoning left for another day. There is, after all, a song I promised your mother I would teach to you, young thing. Pray, sit down, would you? It hurts my old neck to look up at you."



The boy lost his wide eyes and laughed slightly, taking a seat on the floor as instructed an looking up at his Master. The long, white hair extending over the old male\'s shoulder was braided intricately. Soft looking hands moved as the man bent to pick up an object from the floor. It was a harp. He held it gently, looking like he was reminiscing of something – or someone – from a long, long time ago.



"Sir?" Cassiel inquired when there was no movement.



"Hmn? Oh…yes, let me – let me just get her in tune."



Cassiel nodded, and tried to wait patiently as old hands tuned the harp, twanging the strings until she sounded purely. Finally, when the instrument was ready, his Master cast him a glance.



"Do you know the stories about the very beginning?" he asked.



The young male nodded. Of course he knew. They all knew.



"Do you know the songs of the middle, then?" his Master wanted to know.



Again, Cassiel nodded, though he was a little less certain this time. \'The middle?\' What was that supposed to be?



"Then, I suppose, you also think you know the story of the end, don\'t you, lad?"



Cassiel hesitated. "Sir?" he asked tentatively instead of giving an affirmative response.



"Don\'t worry lad… It\'s just a question. It won\'t bite. But I\'ll hedge my bets that you have no knowledge of the end. Or the middle and beginning, if it comes to it… No one writes history any longer. They\'ve all sent it scurrying to the bowels of the earth. You\'ll learn one day, I suppose, and that day might as well be now, hmn?"



"Sir?"



"Things will come to you in time, young Cassiel. For now, just relax, and let me string you out a song. You may learn something from me today – who knows."



Cassiel nodded, and then closed his eyes as he had been taught. That was the way to listen, to learn. Picture the words to the song, and what it was describing.



"Don\'t bother closing your eyes," his Master whispered.



In confusion, Cassiel opened them.



"This isn\'t a story song, or a ballad of any sort that I expect you to remember." His Master\'s voice was so soft, almost less than a whisper. "This is something I want you to think on, though. Not to remember for rote repetition; this is something I want you to consider carefully. Can you promise me you will do that?"



Cassiel nodded. He was curious now. As his Master\'s fingers began to stutter across the harp strings, he watched, eyes tracing the old man\'s bearing. He seemed to come more to life as he played, the intro beginning slowly, sadly, and growing in tiny steps. It was an interesting way to listen, Cassiel decided, sitting with open eyes. He had never had the chance to watch his Master play before – it had all been shut eyes, simply listening to the music. Now though, that he could see exactly what his Master was doing… He was amazed.



There was such play of emotion over his Master\'s face, creasing the already folded skin, and stretching it until wrinkles had nearly vanished. And he was…crying. Tear streaks were glittering across the old man\'s skin, shimmering in the light that came in from the outside.



Cassiel blinked. Why was his master crying? He was curious, but afraid to ask, afraid to break the hypnotic spell that the music was weaving. He let himself be lost in it, let his body be carried away on the waves of sound that cradled him ever so gently.



And then…when he was nearly crying himself without really knowing why, then did his Master begin to sing.



xxx



It happened once, so very shortly a time ago, when the world was yet to begin and the sun to set aglow. The majesty of His being was justice new begun, and He smiled on the universe, and thus was born His son. But only in the beginning was the world so loved and braved – as the days were quickly passing it needed to be saved. And so sent was the youngest of the three who lived above, to rescue th\'innocent from their treachery in love. And so the son went forth and spread the message from the stars, and thusly came the believers coming near and going far. And once the message sent was well out on its way, the son returned to father\'s side, intending there to stay. But walking on in the world of men had damaged his poor soul, and the Father and the Spirit were sad to see him go. He took with him the damaged ones of angels who had followed him on earth to offer to them a better life and a newer, brighter birth. The hundreds came, the hundreds saw, the hundreds said yea or nay and to each the hundreds was given another living day.

But it came a time for judgment of a stranger, fearsome sort and the angels of above themselves broke into violet, restrictive cohorts. Saddened and ashamed was the one they called their God. To their violent outbursts he would but nod. The leader of the kin who had broke forth was called by Lucifer, the angel demon with a head for hate and the frightening seducer. Once upon a fragile land he took the angels who dared to call him Lord and he trained them and he taught them, took up the calling of the sword. The sword them left with justice of a fierce and bloody kind. Those who fell away were with injustice blind. Lucifer then took his troops and marched on God\'s great realm, with baying hounds and terrors filled all leading at the helm. He challenged God and Heaven\'s reign with terror yet again. The fabled Three didst hide their eyes and ask if he was sane.

Then came the war, the battles hard which broke out in the night – filled they were with strife and fear and hatred bred of light. Once the warring ceased, there stood alive but four – the Angels of the Arc whom violence then foreswore. And a time of peace then came, to be enjoyed by all, and the angels once so plentiful rejoiced in devil\'s fall. But now that they were small in count then thus said Lord so great – Go forth, my angels, my feared four and a new race now create. The angels did agree with Him and followed His command, and it was to earth they traveled, as once had Son of Man.

Once alighted on the earth the four went out to find the humans to best suit their needs to breed another kind. So they found and so they took and the humans then were raised. Within the clouds, within the skies the angel four cried out The Lord be praised! And thusly saved was angel\'s race, borne forth from wombs unpure, but so the stories run, the course they took was sure. So when your strife is building and the clouds seem dusky grey, look back, think back to the beginning and think on this I pray. Once there was a King, and once he had a son, and once there was fighting, but now the fight is done. The war brought no good, it only festered ill, and now your God has spoken – has declared war against his will.

So love and love and love some more, and forever shall this be, for when you look to God for grace, then graced you so shall be.