Chapter 16: Late-Night Discussions
Joan found herself uncertain as to whether she should allow a smile or a frown to cross her features.
On the one hand, she was pleased that Adam had been able to reach his mana. Though it might not have immediately allowed him to access his power, it was still a major step in the right direction. Her charge had also done so on his own, and without any sort of formal instruction, and that was a feat worthy of pride.
On the other hand, though sensing his mana was good, unless he was able to catalyse it, and transform it into a usable state, then it would be akin to a man sitting on an unbreakable chest filled with riches without the key. What was worse was that she was unable to lend any aid, and she doubted that Hadriel would be able to either.
The Sanctuary cast by the Heavens would ensure their safety for a time, but would that be enough time to overcome this obstacle? She was uncertain as to his future, and she knew that as disrupted as the world was there was still more to come.
“How is he?”
Hadriel’s question pulled the resurrected saint from her thoughts and back to the room in which she stood. The angel was currently standing by the main dining table where she had spread out a large and detailed map of the area. Certain spots of it were dotted with glowing lights and symbols that looked vaguely familiar, but which Joan couldn’t immediately recognize.
“He has succeeded in perceiving his mana, but he is unsure of what the next step in reaching his power is.”
“Indeed?” Hadriel turned to face her, the angel’s expression considering. “That is a worthwhile advance, but it will be of little meaning if he proves unable to advance further.”
She paused for a moment, her eyes drifting over to a window, so she could look out upon the white fields.
“His form is that of an angel, but his soul remains mortal. Such a limitation means that he will have difficulties in taming his power, strong though it may be.”
“Honoured Hadriel, is there nothing that can be done to aid him? Is there nothing that you can teach him?”
Joan still had trouble believing that the crimson-winged angel really couldn’t help. This was a servant of God that had existed from the time before the Egyptians had raised the pyramids, surely such a wealth of experience should yield some gem of knowledge.
“There is much that I can teach him but it is in the use of his power. In how he can use it in battle, how he can use it to heal others, how he can use it to strengthen himself. I cannot teach him how to reach it. I . . . I have no starting point from which to aid him, the best I can do for him as matters stand is look to his security and pray that he can overcome this trial on his own.”
The French saint found herself surprised by the quiet frustration in the angel’s voice but understood it. Hadriel had been dispatched to the mortal plane to hunt demons and protect innocent souls. Finding herself assigned to care for one demigod, even if it was one that bore the blood of one of Heaven’s elite, was a duty she might slightly resent.
Joan sat down and stared at the table for a moment, her eyes slightly narrowed as she struggled through her thoughts.
“We face an obsticle,” She said after a moment, her words slightly slow, as if she were working them out as she spoke. “But . . . it is not insurmountable, nor are we helpless in the face of it.”
She paused again, then looked up to face Hadriel.
“I have faith that his magic, his power, will be his in the end, but until it is so we will have to do our best to prepare him. We have skills and powers that can aid in that, and we know that he has at least some power already at his disposal. This is a hurdle in his path, nothing more.”
The crimson-winged angel nodded in response, but her face still looked troubled.
“I believe as you do, but even so I find myself . . . disappointed by my role in this,” She admitted, then continued as she saw Joan look up at her. “Adam has power, and the light of his Awakening proved that, but I still feel there should be something . . . more. I do not say this from pride, but I am a soldier in His service, and in my creator's name I have slain demons, devils, and the spawn of the nameless horrors. I am strong, even if I do not stand in the ranks of His champions. I should be battling the hellspawn that would infest the world, not serving as a bodyguard.”
She gestured to the map before her, the motion almost savage.
“There are many threats slowly emerging in the mortal realm. Gods that see no reason to restrain themselves or their desires, ancient beasts that have returned now that the Paths are open once more. There are entire races of spirits, sprites or elves that seek to profit from the access the opened Paths grant them as soon as their scouting is complete. And then there are the forces of Hell, moving upon the world once more, either in secret or in the open! I . . . I will follow His commands, and I will understand the reason that I must protect and teach this young demigod, but it does not change the fact that my wish is to be out there upon the battlefield.”
Once again, she gestured to the map.
Joan moved around the table and took a good look at the map that was spread out on it.
“So, what does this show you?”
Hadriel looked up, then pointed towards a spot on the map.
“This is our current location. The rest of the markers show the supernatural events that have taken place in the general area about us.”
Joan nodded, looking at the map with fresh eyes. It was unquestionably far more accurate than the ones she had used in her mortal life. Idly she wondered just what she’d have been able to do during her war against the English with such a map. A few delightful ideas came to mind, but she dismissed them as unworthy of her. The British were no longer her enemies; indeed, she was now the guardian to an Englishman, quite the irony.
The glowing symbols upon it were Enochian glyphs, a sort of shorthand used by the angels to easily identify complex concepts. Joan knew a few of them but was unfamiliar with the rest, though those that she did recognize were of concern, given that they referred to demon sightings, potential monster dens, and even one that she thought might mean ‘cannibalistic cult of . . . rabbit worshippers’, though she was pretty sure she was wrong on that last one. At least, she hoped she was.
“The Sanctuary will keep us safe for a time, but we must be ready for the time when it will not. I do not expect the forces of the devils and demons to begin to try to march upon us the moment that it falls, but it is only prudent to prepare for whatever may be nearby.”
Joan nodded again, as she studied the map.
“A sensible notion. What would you say are the closest matters of concern?”
The angel frowned slightly but pointed in turn to three symbols that were relatively close to the one that denoted their current location. The resurrected soul couldn’t help but notice that one of them was the symbol that she thought might refer to the rabbit-worshipping cult.
“This is the site of a Faerie Ring,” Hadriel explained, pointing to a symbol which was a ring formed of a circle of stars connected by thin lines. “With the Paths open once more the elven courts, the faery kingdoms, the rogue powers, all the factions of the Fey realms will seek to profit from the restored connection to the mortal realm. After the actions of the King on the British Isles they are wary of being too aggressive, but that does not change their appetites. They want children to raise, servants to command, offerings to take, and deals to be struck, and they will not be gentle in how they gain them. Someone like Adam, would be a prize worth more than his weight in rubies to them. For now, the forces beyond the Ring are ignorant of him, but when the Sanctuary ends that shall change.”
That caused Joan to frown as she glared down at the small symbol only a couple dozen miles or so from their current location. The Fey were a more familiar threat to her than foreign deities or even the forces of hell. Though she had been raised as a faithful Christian daughter she had still been told the folk tales of cruel faeries and elves when she was a child. Of how they would steal children away and just leave carved wooden dolls in their place. Of how they would steal food and drink and leave whole villages to starve. Of how ill-worded wishes made to them could lead a man to sleep for years, only to learn that the world had moved on and that he was now an old man, his youth lost to him.
After her death she had never given them much mind, only taking a certain intellectual curiosity in the knowledge that such creatures were real. She had never pursued further knowledge on them though, a fact that she was now regretting.
“Do you think they shall attack?”
Some dark and buried part of her almost hoped they would, the remnant of the six years old girl that had hidden under her bedsheets in the dark of night, even with her family nearby. She was strong now, empowered by the God she served, trained by the angels of heaven, and armed with holy weapons and armour, they would find her no easy prey.
“I am . . . uncertain,” Hadriel admitted. “There are many factors that influence the situation, such as which faction has gained control of the Ring, what it is they most want, and how much strength they possess. The beings of the Fey Realms are powerful and vicious when needed, but they are all more . . . selfish than most other beings.”
“You know them?”
“I was one of the angels that faced the last invasion that was launched by the Wild Hunt before the paths were closed,” the angel explained, her eyes growing distant as she recalled. “You have to understand, their soul is structured in a different manner than either the mortals, or even many immortals, and their minds and emotions are likewise different.”
She paused again, seemingly looking for the right words before continuing.
“Fey are beautiful, proud, brilliant and graceful. They are also selfish, vicious, temperamental and prone to emotional extremes. They place themselves as the highest priority in their lives, above even their clans or their family. Even though they do ally and band together, even though they do form bonds of mutual interest and even affection, a Fey’s first loyalty will be to their self-interest.”
“How can they function as a society then?” Joan asked, honestly perplexed. “Surely without trust and self-sacrifice, they can't form cohesive groups such as settlements or kingdoms, correct? Without the ability to share resources and knowledge, it would be impossible for them to advance beyond a certain level.”
“That would only be the case if you were dealing with mortals,” The angel explained. “Beings such as elves, faeries and other Fey possess a different mental process. Self-interest does not preclude cooperation, it simply means that there has to be greater motivation, of one form or another. The Fey are naturally drawn to power, regardless of the type. Powerful beings, such as the queens, kings and great lords, have amassed enough power to let them draw others into their orbit, becoming the nucleus of a gathering. Of course, every member of this group seeks to elevate their own position, be it through advancing in the regard of the powerful being they serve, or somehow stealing their power, killing and then replacing them.”
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The French saint blinked, trying to form a mental image of the sort of society that was being described. Had it been humans that they were talking about then she couldn’t conceive of a way that such a dynamic could last long enough to accomplish anything of importance. However, these were not mortals she was talking about, rather it was ageless beings that possessed different drives and instincts.
“There are few motivations that will drive the Fey to act in a way that would risk their lives. Fear of their superiors or greed for something are the principal reasons, but pride can also be a driving factor. They will only intrude upon the mortal realm if one of those factors drives them to. As of yet, their rulers are unaware of us, so both fear and greed will not be invoked until they do, and neither you nor Adam has transgressed against them in any way that might have injured their pride.”
Joan blinked, then repeated her words in her head.
“Neither of us . . . but not you? You said you have faced them before, do you think that you might have made enemies that will try to seek you out?”
Hadriel bowed her head slightly, deep in thought.
“I was a soldier in an army, it is unlikely that I would be singled out,” She paused then, her face considering. “However, some Fey tend to nurture grudges as a loving mother would a child, it is not completely outside the realm of possibility that some Fey might hold a direct grudge against me if they were survivors of that last battle. It is unlikely that any of the survivors would be powerful or important enough to be able to order any sort of hostile action against us, but it is possible.”
“How do you know of the Ring?”
“Though I cannot directly call upon the Knowledge of the Hosts here on the mortal plane, I still have some access through the tools that I possess,” The angel explained. “Not all the angels dispatched to the mortal plane were warriors or hunters, some of them were meant only to act as support to the rest of us, to use spells and rituals to gain knowledge of this plane for the rest of us to use. It is hardly a substitute for the absolute knowledge that the Heavens can provide upon the Higher Realms, but it is something at least.”
Joan nodded, looking back down at the map.
“Very well, then an assault by Fey forces is something that we much consider when planning for when the Sanctuary ends. What else is of concern?”
Hadriel pointed to another symbol, this one further off to the north.
“This one is less certain, but it still merits attention. This area is a large and thickly wooded section of the Regional Park near to us. It is some distance from the nearest mortal settlement, but even so, there have been . . . incidents that have reached the ears of those that compile this information, rumours of monsters in the woods, of people going missing after entering the forest.”
The angels paid attention to rumours? The notion was so outlandish that Joan couldn’t keep the surprise from her face, and Hadriel must have noticed because she continued.
“Rumours alone are not enough to draw the attention of the scryers that sift through such gathered knowledge. However, there are other factors, observe here.” She pointed to a black symbol that was all curves and points, one that Joan was unfamiliar with. “There is a noticeable increase in the ambient death mana in the area, and such a change could not have come about naturally. For it to do so would require at least a third of the forest’s entire animal population to die in extremely close time to each other, and even then it would be more spread out, and less concentrated. Instead, it is all focused on this spot, which would indicate that the cause is either a single entity or a small group that remains in close proximity to one another.”
That was of some concern. Death was a natural part of life, but death mana didn’t naturally accumulate unless there was a large concentration of death. In the natural world, such things were very rare, but some mages and demons were willing to cause all kinds of slaughter if it allowed them to advance their goals. Death mana had many applications, from the inconsequential to the terrifying. The raising and binding of the undead, curses able to make even gods fearful, communication with the dead, even the ability to continue to exist as an independent entity after death had claimed you, all of these could be achieved with death mana.
That was a thought, one that caused her eyes to narrow as she stared down at the map. Another thing that could generate death mana was a powerful death-aligned being, such as a ghoul lord, or some other strong undead. Beings such as that were small wellsprings of death mana. Normally though, they internalized it to add to their own power. However, if they were letting it leak out like this then either they were new and inexperienced, or they had some plan to perhaps contaminate the general area. That in itself could end up being quite the nightmare of a situation. As such an area could be used to summon entire armies of the lesser undead.
As the various scenarios flowed through her mind Joan understood why the intelligence assets of heavenly agents on the mortal plane felt this was worth noting.
“Again, there is no definitive threat, but it is something that warrants attention and preparation,” Hadriel continued. “It is entirely possible that it is simply the result of overenthusiastic mortal hunters, or perhaps some illness that has struck the forest animals. There is no way to know.”
“And what of those that have gone missing? Are we to discount them as well?”
“As of yet the scryers are uncertain as to whether or not such claims are rumour or fact,” the crimson-winged angel admitted. “Though they monitor the area with their spells they have so far not heard any confirmations of the disappearances. Under other circumstances, such words would be dismissed as simple gossip, but there are two noteworthy factors. The first is the presence of the death mana, and the second is this.”
Her finger pointed towards the symbol that marked the area, then pointed to a faint red and yellow corona that surrounded the collection of curves and points.
“There is fear here, more than there should be. These might be uncertain times, but this fear is a directed one, a gnawing one that has a focus and a direction. This would not spring from mere rumour, it is the result of instinctual knowledge that comes from the blood and marrow of a mortal, rather than from their mind. Such a fear is not something to discount casually, were I not bound here by my duties I might choose to investigate this myself.”
That was something of a surprise to Joan, both that the angel would seek to deal with such a seemingly minor matter herself, and that she would understand human fear so well. By their very natures angels did not experience fear in the way that mortals did. Because of both their immortality and their nature as beings tied so closely to the Lord. Angels did not fear death itself, not when they knew that it simply meant their essence returning to their creator. They feared dying in failure, dying in some foolish or pointless manner, they did not fear death itself as a mortal would. Likewise, they didn’t fear pain or loss, why should they when neither sensation nor emotion was as sharp to them as it was to a mortal? This empathy was . . . unexpected.
“It is this last one that is the most concern to me though,” Hadriel continued, her finger drifting to a symbol southwest of the farmstead’s location. “This is the only confirmed demonic activity nearby.”
The symbol that she pointed to was easily recognizable, one of the first that Joan had learnt during her studies in the High Heavens. A crimson circle vertically bisected by a straight line, the edges of the symbol wreathed in tiny dancing flames.
Without thought Joan felt her hand falling to the sword sheathed at her waist. To think, there had been an enemy encampment so nearby! Her eyes narrowed once more as she gauged the distance on the map and tried to determine how far it would be in reality.
“Would it not be best to simply eliminate this demon holding?” She asked, only for Hadriel to shake her head.
“Were the situation so simple then I would have dealt with it before I even arrived here,” She stated. “There has been demonic activity, but the demon in question has been remarkably circumspect in their activities, making it difficult to track them. It is largely inconsequential dealings, the sort that you would expect from some sort of summoned imp rather than a true demon, but the scryers have confirmed it to be a true demon, one of some power, that is what makes the situation so uncertain.”
A demon that was hiding itself was a difficult problem to deal with, and unusual, given that demons were normally about as subtle as an enraged bull. That this one was using stealth meant one of three things. Either it was a weak demon, one that had learnt to use cunning to compensate for a lack of power, or it was a higher-ranked demon, one of the old ones that had gained enough experience and wisdom to control its violent tendencies. Thirdly, it could be that it was somehow bound or compelled to act in this manner. The first was troublesome, as a cunning foe was always a greater threat than an unthinking brute. The last was concerning because it meant a strong magic user was nearby.
However, it was the middle option that gave both the resurrected saint and the angel the most pause. Those demons that grew able to tame their own natures as savage engines of torture and destruction were the ones that made up the ranks of the commanders of hell. And not a one of them was weak by any stretch of the imagination. Worse than that, they knew how to use that power with skill and precision, a deadly combination to face in battle.
“I could remain on guard while you seek out the demon,” Joan offered. “With the Sanctuary still in effect I am certain I would be enough, at least for a short time.”
Hadriel’s face grew slightly sour as she looked to the French saint, then back to the map before her.
“I would dearly wish to accept your offer, but I cannot discount the chance that this demonic activity is part of a plan to divide our forces. The Sanctuary is a potent spell, but it is not a flawless one, and there is a chance that this may be a trap. It is a slim one, but Adam is a prize that I think the forces of hell would be willing to pay much for.”
It was something of a bitter pill to swallow, but Joan could see the wisdom in her words. Yes, when faced with the forces of hell making even a minor intrusion upon the mortal realm her first instinct was to root it out and burn it, root and stem. However, that was not why she was here, she had another responsibility and it was not one that could be ignored.
“For the time being, at least, these threats are minor ones.” Hadriel continued. “They should be observed, but do not merit overt action. It is not ideal, but it is what is dictated by necessity.”
Nodding Joan pulled up a chair and sat down.
“He will learn,” She said it with the same certainty as before. “But what shall we do once he does?”
The crimson winged angel looked up from the map and met her gaze.
“There is much to be done, and he shall need to be as strong as he can. For the time being the world has fallen into a state of uneasy balance. There is some chaos in the world, but for the time being most of the returning gods are content with the roles they have taken for themselves. Enough of them are enjoying the comforts and entertainments offered by modern civilization that they have kept the wilder or more ambitious among their number from sending this world back into an age of barbarity. However. it is a tenuous balance. All that is needed is one or two major disasters, or even just a handful of lesser ones and the current age will descend into chaos and bloodshed on a scale unseen before in the history of this world.
“The task set before us is to either prevent these events before they can unbalance the world, or doing what we can to stem the flow of blood when the worst occurs.”
“It seems . . . so much to lay upon his shoulder,” Joan’s eyes turned towards the ceiling, as though she could see through the wood and plaster and into Adam’s room. “And he is so young.”
“You were younger when you were called to serve, and you were given less to serve with.”
Hadriel’s voice was firm almost to the point of hardness, but there was also respect there, an acknowledgement that the mortal before her was one that had served the Almighty with every bit as much devotion and faith as could be expected from one of His angels.
“Yes, but I was called to face men, to inspire them and lead them into battle. It was not something I had been trained for, but it was something that I understood. Adam . . . we are asking him to be more than just a man, we are asking him to be something that even gods will be wary of. We are asking him not to rouse a defeated and apathetic populous. We are asking him to protect an entire world. Such a burden would be crushing to one that had been prepared for it. To one that only mere weeks ago was plucked from a normal life . . . ? I am impressed that he has been able to handle the change as well as he has.”
“He should not see it as a burden. This is a level of trust that few mortals have ever received from the Lord. He should be honoured and awed that the Almighty has seen fit to entrust him with such a task.”
“That is something he is aware of,” Joan assured her, her own voice steady as she faced the angel once more. “But it is difficult concept for him to grasp. Until only a few months ago he was part of a secular society, the concepts of gods and spirits were simply remnants of bygone days. Since the Paths opened his encounters with immortals have been peripheral at most. The notion, the very concept, of the Lord God is . . . too huge for him to comfortably grasp. Instead he tries to fit it into what he already knows and compartmentalizes away what he doesn’t feel he can deal with yet. In many ways it is a surprisingly rational and mature method to handle his situation, but I fear it is leaving him somewhat brittle.”
“Will he break?”
“I . . . do not think so. He has mettle, and fragile though some parts of him might be I do not believe that the Lord would have placed this task upon one that could not endure it. During the time when we were preparing for the ritual I pushed him as far as I felt I safely could. He offered far less in the way of complaints than I had been prepared for. He has fortitude, but he is simply unprepared for the new reality that he is having to deal with.”
Hadriel sighed and drifted away from the table. Her eyes flicked to the nearest window, staring out at the darkening night outside, before returning to the resurrected saint.
“We shall have to prepare him as best as we can. There is much for him to learn, much for him to reach for. All we can do is lend him what assistance and knowledge we can and hope that he can rise to the challenge.”
Joan simply nodded in reply, her face a mask of resolve and purpose.