Joan looked to Adam’s retreating form, glanced back to their ‘guests’, met honoured Hadriel’s eyes, then offered a quick bow before following after her charge.
In all truth she wasn’t sure if she was horrified or impressed by the young demigod’s action. On the one hand he had just potentially offended their two very powerful guests, who had a well-earned reputation of being . . . less than forgiving of those that crossed them. On the other hand, since they hadn’t started demanding his blood, then he might have successfully kept them from establishing dominance over him.
“Adam, you did well to take the control of the flow of the conversation,” She began as she followed him up the stairs. “But I am uncertain of how-”
Her words were cut off as a dirty and torn collection of rags that had once been a shirt hit the floor just inside the demigod’s room. Before she could think of restarting Adam had undone his belt and thrown it and the odd bag hanging from it onto his bed. He then turned to face her, one eyebrow slightly arched as he looked at her.
“I’m going to have a shower now. So, you can either stand there and watch me take the rest of my stuff off, or you can give me some privacy.”
Joan blinked, then felt her face redden as the full implication of his words sank in. she quickly stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind her. But even as she did so she heard the sound of a zip being undone, and of fabric falling to the floor. Despite her best efforts she couldn’t keep memories of the brief sight she’d had of her charge’s naked body in the days after his Awakening. She felt her face flush redder at the memory, and berated herself for being so easily flustered.
Through the door she heard the shower being turned on, followed quickly by the sounds of splashing and Adam made use of it. She hoped that he wouldn’t take too long, though she knew that cleaning his wings would probably take some time. The French saint just hoped that it wouldn’t be so long that the newcomers grew irritable.
This out of character behaviour from her charge might be something of a boon when it came to dealing with them. The Adam that she was familiar with was perhaps a bit too easily awed when meeting those that were of the mythological worlds. Herself and honoured Hadriel had both stunned him when he had first met them. That he was able to handle the appearance of two being of an even higher tier than them so . . . deftly should have been heartening.
Instead she found herself wondering what her charge had faced that had put him in such a frame of mind.
The task he had been sent on had been judged to be simple, a safe first mission for him to cut his teeth upon. The corrupted beasts he should have faced may have been dangerous to even prepared mortals, but to someone of Adam’s power they should only have been nuisances at worst. The information passed to her and honoured Hadriel had indicated that the twisting of the creatures had been the result of an environmental effect, most likely a small rupture in a local ley line. They had thought that all he would need to do was force his way through the altered animals, then locate and seal the rupture. His aptitude for controlling mana and magic should have made the task a simple yet challenging one, perfect for his first outing.
But he’d said that he encountered a demigod, that had been unexpected. The reports that they’d been sent had made no mention of such a being in the vicinity, let alone its actually being involved in the problem. How could angels whose specific talents had been for scouting have missed such a detail?
The resurrected saint supposed that this demigod might have possessed some gift that kept them concealed form detection. It was a possibility, but so was another explanation, a darker one. Joan’s eyes narrowed as she considered the possibility of deliberate misinformation, either from the source, or from the report somehow being tampered with before it reached them. It was a painful thought, that the angels of Heaven itself could not be trusted, but her first duty was to the charge placed upon her by the Almighty, and that came before even her respect for His soldiers.
As a means of quietly disposing of Adam, sending him against a powerful and out of control demigod was plausible. As things stood her charge was a long way from coming into his full power, so he was vulnerable, especially if he had not been expecting such a serious challenge. And there would have been no way to be certain of his ultimate fate, the matter ruled as a tragic misfortune. With the resources needed to keep the forces of hell in check it was unlikely that more assets could be diverted, so . . .
Joan shook her head, leaning back against the wall next to the door she had exited. She disliked the path her thoughts were travelling, feeling them begin to stink of paranoia rather than reason, but she would be remiss in her duty if she did not at least consider the likelihood of such notions.
Who might seek to sabotage Adam’s first independent action? Who would benefit? Who had the means to alter the angelic reports? Such questions and more bubbled up in her mind, but the answers that she came up with were frustratingly vague. Few knew of his existence in anything more than the most general of terms. The entire world knew that a powerful demigod had Awakened, his aura illuminating most of the world had seen to that. However, those that knew who he was, that he had a destiny, that the Lord of the Heavens Himself had placed value on him, were far fewer in number. Of that number the vast majority were angels, and those were of the higher ranks, those that knew Bath Kol on a close level.
Could it be one of them? It was a . . . bitter thought, that one of the paragons of the High Heavens that she had known would seek to harm her charge, but she had to at least contemplate the thought. Even angels of the highest tier were not incorruptible, the fall of Lucifer had proven that.
The sound of the water cut off, and Joan could hear her charge moving around.
Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back, letting the crown of her skull rest against the wood and plaster behind her.
Was she overthinking this? Was she so determined to protect the young demigod that she was seeing threats where there were none? Could she be seeing nothing more than misfortune and perceiving it as signs of some non-existent betrayal?
There was just no way to know, not for certain, she did not have enough information. All she could do was guard Adam as best as she could. That should be somewhat easier from now on, since she had no intention of letting him go off on his own any time soon.
She heard soft voices from downstairs, vague words she couldn’t make out, but recognized as belonging to the newcomers. At that her eyes opened, and she came up from her resting pose.
The resurrected saint did not fear them, not while they were bound by their oaths of hospitality, but what the represented was enough to put her on edge. Joan dearly would have wished for more time, time for Adam to grow stronger, more skilled, more experienced. He had such potential, but the interruption of his Awakening had badly hamstrung the demigod’s ability to reach that height of power. Indeed, had it not been for him possessing a halo it might have taken months or even years to reach the point he had.
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All of that meant he was vulnerable, far more so than he should be. And now the powers of the world were closing in on him.
When Joan had first been given this task, she’d thought her duty, after his Awakening, would be that of a bodyguard. Adam would be powerful enough to stand on the upper tiers of power, to be shoulder to shoulder with the likes of divine kings. Joan knew that her own might could not stand on such a stage, so she thought she would act to keep him safe from the weaker threats that could circumvent such strength. Assassins, poison, spies, those were the concerns she would have to face.
Now though . . .
Joan inhaled, then let the breath out in a long slow sigh. This was a path her thoughts had run so many times over the last few weeks that she feared it might be wearing a rut in her brain. She was as unlikely to come up with a solution now as she had been the dozens of times before, so she must not allow herself to be caught up in it once more. She should focus on what had changed and what she could do.
Adam had seen battle, real battle by the looks of it, and that was important. Their black-haired guest had not been wrong in her assessment that the young demigod did not have the air of one defeated, so he must have gained some measure of victory. That was good. Now that he understood how real fights could be, how fast, and messy, and chaotic, the next part of his training could begin.
A smile touched her face as she thought of his reaction. The winged demigod was unlikely to enjoy it, given that it would mean her and honoured Hadriel holding back on him far less, but in the end it would be to his benefit. There was an old saying about how the more you sweat in peace then the less you bleed in war. Joan regarded it as sound advice, but felt that there was a logical progression to it, once you followed it through. The more one bled in peace then the less one died in war.
Her thoughts were interrupted as the door beside her opened and Adam stepped out.
It was clear that he’d prepared himself in a hurry, because his hair was still damp and only slightly ordered by a few quick brushes, or so it looked. He’d changed into fresh clothes, ones that he hadn’t worn in training yet, given their neat creases and tidy state. The same went for his shoes, these being simple business shoes, rather than the trainers he’d used most of the time. His shirt, a simple blue button-up one, was less neat due to the quick cuts he’d made to the back to accommodate his wings. It was similar to the modification she’d seen him do before but done in haste. Still, it allowed him to wear the shirt with some comfort and without looking absurd, so she could understand why he’d done it.
“Okay,” Her charge said, turning to face her. “I feel a bit more alive now. How do we do this?”
He was putting on a brave face, but she could see that he was still tired. She hoped that the coming introductions wouldn’t take too long, but she doubted that would be the case. Something like this, something this important, was unlikely to be over swiftly.
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It was growing dark outside, the sun set while I was frantically cutting another shirt, a proper shirt, so it would fit on me.
The main living room of the farmstead seemed to be a far better setting for a meeting, and I was glad I’d made them wait for it. It was not only brightly lit by electric lights but also feeling oddly formal. Once, years back when this building had housed several families that worked here, this room would have served as a communal meeting hall, the place where both grave meetings and joyous celebrations would have been held. With the refurbishment it had been altered into a combination of a lounge and a study. One wall was taken up with several bookcases, though they stood mostly empty at the moment. Another wall was taken up by a long mirror that ran above an ornate fireplace. Old slitted windows ran along a third wall, letting some light in from the rising moon, while the last wall was mainly empty, save for the doorway that led into the room. There were several leather armchairs placed about the room, along with two large leather-bound sofas, a coffee table, and a large mahogany desk.
However, for all that, it was also a room that all of us could comfortably fit into. Me, Joan, Hadriel, and our two newcomers. There was even enough room for me to unfold my wings slightly without having to worry about banging into things. This had been the room that the warrior angel had shown our guests into while I was doing my best to get myself cleaned up and ready.
I was feeling much better now, the shower and change of clothes going a long way towards making me feel less like corpse that had dug its way out of a shallow grave and more like myself. I was still bone weary, but at least I no longer felt like I might fall asleep as soon as I sat down in a chair.
Evidently the grey-eyed woman was of a similar opinion on my appearance, because she gave a nod of approval as I stepped into the room.
“Perhaps taking some time to care for yourself was a wise choice.” She commented, turning from the bookshelf where she had been studying one of the few books there. “I trust that your short respite has given you some more energy to face us with?”
I nodded, doing my best not to stare at her.
It was difficult, really difficult. Even though she was just standing there, as casually as if she were in her own home, she still managed to seem almost impossibly glamourous. She was a stateswoman, a queen, a beautiful idol that demanded veneration and adulation by her mere existence. Now that I was rested it was even harder that before not to feel star-struck, as though my earlier exhaustion had somehow fogged my vision and I was only now seeing her clearly.
“Aww, I don’t know,” That rich and tantalizing voice drew my attention away to the black-haired woman, who was lounging on one of the sofas. “I kinda thought that the blood and mud look worked for you, really brought home the man-fresh-from-the-battlefield vibe you had going.”
She was slouched in a way that should have looked almost slobbish, but instead she managed to make it seem seductive and primal, like a panther lounging in the sun.
“Maybe,” I replied, amazed that I managed to keep my voice steady. “But getting me cleaned up makes me feel human again.”
“Oh? But you can aim higher than that, can’t you?”
Her tone was playful, but I could hear that hungry edge in there again, one that sent a cold shiver sown my spine that had nothing to do with her beauty.
“Be that as it may,” The first woman broke in. “I believe that it is time for introductions?”
Her eyes turned to Joan, who had followed me into the room, then flicked over to Hadriel, who had been standing beside the fireplace, arms folded as she watched our ‘guests’.
I turned my head to see a silent look being exchanged between my protectors, then Joan stepped forwards, turning to face me as she did. It was odd, she was just wearing the simple dress she favoured when not wearing her war gear, but her poise and stance made me think of her as every bit as impressive as she would have been in full armour and carrying her sword.
“Adam,” She calmly stated, her eyes locked with mine. “It is my privilege to introduce our esteemed visitors.”
She gestured towards the first woman, who had stepped away from the bookshelf and was now fully facing me.
“This is Lady Pallas Athena, daughter of Zeus and a goddess of the Olympian pantheon.”
The French saint turned and indicated the other woman, who was now sitting up and facing me in a much more formal manner.
“It is my further honour to introduce you to the goddess Kali, of the Hindu pantheon.”
For a moment the world seemed to freeze in place around me as my thoughts raced, tripped, collapsed in a heap, and then tried to pick themselves up into some semblance of cohesion. In a few moments I would regain myself, I would mentally scramble to try and recall all that I knew about these goddesses in particular, but that would be later.
At that moment, as I stared at the beautiful, powerful, and above all dangerous women before me only one thought occupied my mind. It had finally happened; the gods had come crashing into my life. I’d been aware that I would eventually be needed to interact with them, but I’d always thought it would be later, when I was stronger, more experienced, ready to operate on such a high level of power. But that wasn’t the case, they were here now, and I had to deal with them.
What was I thinking? It could vaguely equate it to a mocking voice in the back of my mind saying; ‘welcome to the big leagues, chump’.
Outside rain began to fall.