jeriendhal | "Sinking", Part Four

No warnings this time around.

The announcement did not gone over well. But then Zadkiel couldn't imagine under what circumstances it would have been welcome.

"Christopher, Cherub Archangel of Children and your Lord, we now believe has been captured by the combined forces of Lust and Drugs, and is even now being held in Shal-Mari," she had began. She stood before every one of Children's servitors that could be pulled from their duties to attend, in front of Christopher's Cottage by the Lake. No Blessed Souls though. Even if they could be brought to understand what was happening, despite their youth, Zadkiel had judged that Christopher would not have appreciated upsetting them in such a manner.

She waited for the collective gasp of horror and dismay to ripple through the crowd. Angels clutched each other for comfort, while the relievers let out squeaks of dismay, most hiding behind their elder brethren for protection, or at least some small succor that would provide a bulwark against the horror.

"At this time, the Seraphim Council is gathering information, before choosing a firm course of action." Truth, but not the whole Truth of the thing, and Zadkiel damned herself for softening the events of that Council meeting. Right now she needed Children's undivided loyalty, obedience, and attention. That would not be accomplished by veering off on an editorial against Laurence's command decision. "When our Lord Commander has sufficient information, we then will decide what to do to aid Christopher." Or possibly whether to do anything at all.

"The Council has chosen me to act as Children's Seneschal, until this… situation… is resolved. I ask that you follow my orders as you would Christopher's. In turn I pledge to listen to you as Christopher listened to you, and respond to your summonses as he would. For those angels already serving in the Corporeal Realm, I ask that you continue your assignments as before. For those without duties at this time, I will speak to you shortly." Work was what was needed right now, Zadkiel believed. Work helped to occupy the mind, and prevented fear of the enemy on the other side of the walls from bringing defeat before the first charge.

Which enemy? she wondered.

"Those who are responsible for tending to the Blessed Souls under Children's care, I ask that you avoid mentioning Christopher's current… status… to them, if possible. I know what restrictions you operate under when you speak to the young, but do your best." She gave them a sharp nod. "That is all."

The gathered angels began to disperse, talking in low, worried tones. Zadkiel watched them leave, taking the opportunity to examine them as individuals, not en masse. Not for the first time since Christopher's promotion to Archangel, she noted how many odd looking celestials had been drawn to Children's service. Many Creationers of course, who were attracted to the natural affinity between children, the act of creating a new life, and the creativity the young. Many more were gifted from the elder Archangels, to bolster Christopher's organization as it gained its footing. More than a few of those were considered oddballs in their previous Superior's hierarchy, there not so much because their possible affinity for Children as their lack of affinity for anything else.

But Children was not, Christopher had once taken pains to reassure her, any sort of "dumping ground." The angels that were under his wing were there because they belonged there, and were loved there, not because they lacked any such love from their old boss. More than a couple had once been of Protection, Zadkiel reminded herself, and had actually requested transfer to Children's hierarchy. She'd granted those requests without any qualms, and with her blessings.

At the corner of her perception, Zadkiel sensed one angel's approach. She turned to face a tall, pale figure with black wings, dressed merely in a white sheet, and with oath chains hanging from her wrists and ankles. Not to mention the most extraordinary hair, deep black, curly and stacked up like a leaning tower, with white lightning bolts shot through the sides.

It took a moment, but she finally made the Corporeal connection. The Bride of Frankenstein? Zadkiel thought in bemusement.

"Lady Zadkiel," the unusual Malakite greeted, bowing deeply, "I am Elsa of Creation, Malakite Angel of Halloween Candy, in service to Children."

"Halloween Candy?" Zadkiel repeated. "Forgive me, but that sounds like a Word that should belong to a Glutton."

"It did, once," Elsa answered, her face holding a satisfied smile, "not anymore."

"I see. Well then, how may I help you, Elsa?"

"I just wish to volunteer my services, Milady," Elsa answered. "During the time of the year when my Word is not quite so prominent, Christopher has me act as the administrator for his Cottage. I know almost every angel in his Word, and I think I'm in the best position to tell you which would be suitable for the rescue mission."

"What rescue mission?" Please, God, spare me from enthusiasm.

Elsa frowned in confusion. "The Council is preparing a rescue mission, is it not? I understand if you needed to be somewhat cautionary to the rank and file, but I assure you I have Christopher's utmost confidence. Whatever they are actually planning, I am ready to help in any way that I can."

"Elsa…" Zadkiel sighed, and gathered her thoughts. She would not lie to this Malakite, nor hedge the Truth. Elsa didn't deserve it. None of Children did, really. "Elsa, there is no rescue mission being currently planned. It is entirely possible that no rescue mission will be planned, ever."

"What?" Elsa said sharply, drawing curious stares from a few servitors. Zadkiel took firm hold of her hand and moved them to Christopher's office with a quick Song of Motion.

Privacy assured, Zadkiel continued. "There is no rescue mission being planned, Elsa. Lord Laurence specifically forbid War from making any attempt, for fear it might be a trap to ensnare a more…" she faltered for a moment.

"…important Archangel?" Elsa finished darkly.

"All Archangels have Laurence's respect," Zadkiel said carefully.

Elsa's frown deepened, and the blackness of her Malakite countenance grew pronounced. "But some have more respect than others. Do not try and tell me that isn't Truth."

"Truth," Zadkiel agreed, and thought it might be prudent to block this line of thought before it could go any further. "Laurence, by necessity, must put the greater health of the Host ahead of any sentimental considerations. Losing Christopher would be a tragedy. Were we to lose Michael, or any of the other remaining pre-Fall Archangels, it would be a disaster from which the Host might not recover."

"Christopher is important," Elsa said sharply, mantling her wings in frustration. "Why is the rest of the Host blind to the implications of his Word? Childhood is the beginning of the road to one's Destiny, or Fate. If a human child lacks for love, or the necessities of life, falling to his Fate is often unavoidable."

Zadkiel raised her palms in defense. "You don't have to tell me the importance of Children. Recall how closely my Word relates, for there's no one more helpless towards their own Protection than an infant. But the fact is that Christopher is the youngest of the Archangels. He's held his post for a mere eyeblink in the Host's terms. You can't expect him to have the sway that Dominic or Yves hold."

"But…"

"Which does not mean that I'm not as unhappy as you are about this situation," she finished. "Michael is blocked from proceeding further. Fortunately, Laurence neglected to place his ban on the entirety of the Host. You aren't the only one who is wishing deeply for a rescue mission to be mounted."

Elsa's eyes brightened. "You mean you intend to rescue Christopher yourself?"

Zadkiel frowned, and Elsa's face drooped a little in response. "If I can, and only if I may do so without placing Children as a whole at risk. I have been charged with overseeing Christopher's Word while he cannot. I must see to its defense, in case Andre or Fleurity might take this opportunity bring the Cottage and all the angels in it crashing to the ground. I will not see Christopher rescued, only to find the ranks of his servitors decimated."

"Milady…" Elsa began, then paused a moment to compose herself, "I am of Creation, fledged a mere century ago. For half of my existence the Archangel I pledged myself to has left me, and my brothers and sisters in Creation, abandoned and adrift. Christopher granted me shelter in this time of confusion and loss. Should Eli come back to Heaven this very day I would have to consider carefully whether I wished to return to him, or stay with the Superior who has never taken my honor and oaths for granted. Should I be forced to pledge my loyalty to a third Archangel…" Her face grew hard. "I would rather have my Forces stripped from me, one by one, until there was nothing of me left. And I am not alone in this thought."

Zadkiel took hold of Elsa's hand. The Malakite's Oath chains brushed against the Cherub's arm, feeling cold and heavy. "Are there so many of Creation that think as you do?" she asked.

"In Children itself? I am not the only one. Those in service to other Words, I cannot say," Elsa admitted. Her free hand took hold of the chains that bound her and pulled them tight against herself. "It hurts, Lady Zadkiel. I cannot tell you how it hurts, to know that Eli created us, only to leave us adrift. He loved us, so he said, so I felt, but then he left. You cannot understand, Milady, what that feels like. I can only think of one who is not Creation who might."

Dissonance.

"Who?" Zadkiel asked, and suddenly Elsa's face grew stricken, "What is the matter? Who is in Heaven that feels such pain?"

The Malakite shook her head, facing the ground. "I cannot say, Lady Zadkiel."

"I ask."

"I cannot say, Milady," Elsa repeated, raising her eyes to look at Zadkiel. It was the face of someone who would rather die than continue. The face of a Malakite in the depths of shame at betraying her oaths.

"Elsa," Zadkiel said carefully, "please repeat your oaths to me."

"Milady Zadkiel, I do not wish to."

"I am Seneschal of Children, Elsa of Creation," Zadkiel said carefully, firmly. "Assigned by the Council, and speaking with Children's Voice, until such time as Christopher can be returned to us. If you are loyal to Christopher then you must show the same loyalty to me. Now, what are your oaths?"

Elsa shut her eyes, tears welling within them. "I shall not abide demons in any form. I shall not willingly surrender to the forces of Hell. I shall not allow my Word to be twisted by the forces of Gluttony. I shall maintain Christopher's Cathedral to the best of my ability. I shall not speak of the angel in the in Caves of Adventure save to Christopher himself." She winced as Dissonance wracked her.

"Be at peace, Elsa," Zadkiel said gently. She sung, harmonizing with the notes Dissonance and easing them from the Malakite's form. "Which chain holds that last oath?"

Elsa silently eased open the sheet that covered her, revealing the chain wrapped around her chest. How dangerous is this oath, that a Malakite would hide it from the view of her fellow angels? Zadkiel thought in wonder. She took hold of it with both hands, and snapped the links. Elsa's cry of relief was heartbreaking.

"Elsa, tell me of the angel in the Caves of Adventure," she asked gently.

"Please, Milady, please don't ask this of me. I promised Christopher," Elsa said desperately.

"No chain binds you now, and I am Children's Seneschal. Now tell me."

"Even with my oath broken I cannot, Milady," Elsa said, bowing her head once again, "but I will take you to her."

TBC