"Square Peg"
Apr. 17th, 2005 11:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeriendhalNotes: In Nomine. Technically this story is G rated, but it contains an idea that many people will find reflexively offensive. You Have Been Warned.
Note: In Nomine is copyright Steve Jackson Games and Siroz
Michael touched his hand to the Soldier’s forehead. The soul was still unconscious, absorbing the trauma of her final moments before being admitted to her final reward. But she was healing, Novalis’ nurses had assured him of that.
Fifteen is too young to have fallen in the War, he thought. Would that you have had many more years before meeting your Destiny. But there was a Sorcerer’s Circle lying dead in the corporeal world thanks to her selfless acts, so he had no right to complain.
He spoke briefly with a few of the conscious Soldiers recovering from their wounds in the main ward, and then made his way to the Hospital’s gate, where Novalis waited for him.
“Everything satisfactory?” she asked.
“Yes, Mother,” he replied politely. He’d been half expecting her to rip into him when that latest small casualty in the War showed up, but she had not, perhaps recognizing that trying to stop the young Soldier from meeting her Destiny would have only risked her falling into her Fate. “The War goes on.”
“And on, and on…” Novalis replied, but the words were ritual, without any rebuke behind them. She smiled. “Care to walk in the Glade? You look like you need it.”
“Gladly.”
The particular section she led him into overlooked the Hospital itself. A winding path defined by terraced flowerbeds led up to the top of a conical hill. The view was, of course, relaxing, and they were not the only ones to partake in it. A young man in his early twenties was sitting at an easel, painting a study of the Hospital grounds. Beside him was a young girl in a mid 20th-century dress. She was looking over his shoulder as he created the scene, making the occasional encouraging noise.
Michael studied the souls with mild interest. Well, more than mild. The young girl was about the same age as the soldier he had visited, and they also shared some features, though the girl’s expression was far more carefree. The young man looked—familiar—in a way that sent alarms through the Archangel’s brain. He was by no means handsome, being short of stature, with greasy black hair, dark eyes, and an unshaven face. But there was an intensity there that was arresting. Perhaps it was the perceived age that was fooling him. The archangel tried to imagine that face looking older, more lined—
--with a mustache.
Michael’s axe was halfway out of its sheath before Novalis’ fingers clamped down on his right hand. He turned towards the gentle Cherub and saw that her eyes were blazing.
“You will not violate the pax dei, most especially this close to the Hospital, Michael,” she whispered fiercely. “Sheath your weapon now or be banned from my domain.”
“Do you know who that is, Novalis?” he shot back, keeping his voice in the same low tone only through great effort. “Why is he here? Anywhere in Heaven?”
“I know perfectly well who he is,” she replied. “He is here under my personal protection, for reasons that ought to be obvious. Now sheath your weapon.”
He put away his axe and tore free of Novalis’ grip. “Explain yourself or so help me I’ll call you out to the Hyena.”
“Dominique already knows, and approves, however reluctantly,” she said, and Michael saw the Truth in her words.
“And Yves?” he countered.
“Yves was the one who escorted him here in the first place.”
Michael could only shake his head in confusion. “Why?”
The anger faded from Novalis’ eyes, replaced by her usual calm. “For the same reason any soul comes to Heaven. Because he managed to meet his Destiny before his Fate.”
He snorted. “I wish I were human so I could accuse you of joking. I thought his Destiny was to be a bad landscape painter.”
“No, his Destiny was to serve as a uniting force for the world and insure a half-century of relative peace. The alliances formed to oppose him also served to stabilize the Earth into two mega-factions, both with sufficient strength to prevent the possibility of another global conflict from starting until the human race gained sufficient maturity (I see that look in your eyes, stop it) to realize the consequences if they fired off their nukes willy-nilly.”
“Truth,” he was forced to admit. “Truth indeed. So for his unpardonable deeds he gains a place here, because he encouraged virtue in others.” Michael shook his head. “I think this is a case where I must leave true understanding to the ineffable.”
“Indeed,” Novalis agreed. “If it’s any consolation, he doesn’t venture much from the Glade. To put it mildly, there are many people, and even a few angels, who would be tempted to soul kill him on principle’s sake, even if it risked them Falling. But at least his personality has improved quite a bit in the past few decades.”
“Oh?”
Novalis smiled. “Yes. I think Miss Frank has been quite good for him, don’t you?”
Author’s Note: Yes this story is most definitely Heretical, and I understand completely that many, many people have every right to be horribly offended by it. My apologies to you all. This was just something that popped into my head and had to write down.
Note: In Nomine is copyright Steve Jackson Games and Siroz
Michael touched his hand to the Soldier’s forehead. The soul was still unconscious, absorbing the trauma of her final moments before being admitted to her final reward. But she was healing, Novalis’ nurses had assured him of that.
Fifteen is too young to have fallen in the War, he thought. Would that you have had many more years before meeting your Destiny. But there was a Sorcerer’s Circle lying dead in the corporeal world thanks to her selfless acts, so he had no right to complain.
He spoke briefly with a few of the conscious Soldiers recovering from their wounds in the main ward, and then made his way to the Hospital’s gate, where Novalis waited for him.
“Everything satisfactory?” she asked.
“Yes, Mother,” he replied politely. He’d been half expecting her to rip into him when that latest small casualty in the War showed up, but she had not, perhaps recognizing that trying to stop the young Soldier from meeting her Destiny would have only risked her falling into her Fate. “The War goes on.”
“And on, and on…” Novalis replied, but the words were ritual, without any rebuke behind them. She smiled. “Care to walk in the Glade? You look like you need it.”
“Gladly.”
The particular section she led him into overlooked the Hospital itself. A winding path defined by terraced flowerbeds led up to the top of a conical hill. The view was, of course, relaxing, and they were not the only ones to partake in it. A young man in his early twenties was sitting at an easel, painting a study of the Hospital grounds. Beside him was a young girl in a mid 20th-century dress. She was looking over his shoulder as he created the scene, making the occasional encouraging noise.
Michael studied the souls with mild interest. Well, more than mild. The young girl was about the same age as the soldier he had visited, and they also shared some features, though the girl’s expression was far more carefree. The young man looked—familiar—in a way that sent alarms through the Archangel’s brain. He was by no means handsome, being short of stature, with greasy black hair, dark eyes, and an unshaven face. But there was an intensity there that was arresting. Perhaps it was the perceived age that was fooling him. The archangel tried to imagine that face looking older, more lined—
--with a mustache.
Michael’s axe was halfway out of its sheath before Novalis’ fingers clamped down on his right hand. He turned towards the gentle Cherub and saw that her eyes were blazing.
“You will not violate the pax dei, most especially this close to the Hospital, Michael,” she whispered fiercely. “Sheath your weapon now or be banned from my domain.”
“Do you know who that is, Novalis?” he shot back, keeping his voice in the same low tone only through great effort. “Why is he here? Anywhere in Heaven?”
“I know perfectly well who he is,” she replied. “He is here under my personal protection, for reasons that ought to be obvious. Now sheath your weapon.”
He put away his axe and tore free of Novalis’ grip. “Explain yourself or so help me I’ll call you out to the Hyena.”
“Dominique already knows, and approves, however reluctantly,” she said, and Michael saw the Truth in her words.
“And Yves?” he countered.
“Yves was the one who escorted him here in the first place.”
Michael could only shake his head in confusion. “Why?”
The anger faded from Novalis’ eyes, replaced by her usual calm. “For the same reason any soul comes to Heaven. Because he managed to meet his Destiny before his Fate.”
He snorted. “I wish I were human so I could accuse you of joking. I thought his Destiny was to be a bad landscape painter.”
“No, his Destiny was to serve as a uniting force for the world and insure a half-century of relative peace. The alliances formed to oppose him also served to stabilize the Earth into two mega-factions, both with sufficient strength to prevent the possibility of another global conflict from starting until the human race gained sufficient maturity (I see that look in your eyes, stop it) to realize the consequences if they fired off their nukes willy-nilly.”
“Truth,” he was forced to admit. “Truth indeed. So for his unpardonable deeds he gains a place here, because he encouraged virtue in others.” Michael shook his head. “I think this is a case where I must leave true understanding to the ineffable.”
“Indeed,” Novalis agreed. “If it’s any consolation, he doesn’t venture much from the Glade. To put it mildly, there are many people, and even a few angels, who would be tempted to soul kill him on principle’s sake, even if it risked them Falling. But at least his personality has improved quite a bit in the past few decades.”
“Oh?”
Novalis smiled. “Yes. I think Miss Frank has been quite good for him, don’t you?”
Author’s Note: Yes this story is most definitely Heretical, and I understand completely that many, many people have every right to be horribly offended by it. My apologies to you all. This was just something that popped into my head and had to write down.
