I have committed the worst sin for a Cherub: I have divided my loyalties.
Not my attunements -- no conflicts there, yet, thanks be to Eli -- but my heart. That's worse, really. Attunements compel one to respond, but conflicts in the heart simply hurt, confuse. Arashiel, of course, is the only loyalty to whom I am attuned, and I suppose I am landing so firmly on her side because of that. . . that and I think she is right about the Tapestry. That puts me at odds with a few others, but so be it.
Which leaves my other conflicts all at odds: Rook and Irad.
Irad has returned to us. Rashi has actually brought him among us, Punisher, Demon of Dragons, twisted parody of an angel. She thinks to Redeem him. And I -- when confronted by this, by her intentions -- I did not say *anything*. I want her to be right, and I want to believe that *my* Irad is somewhere under the bitter eyes and cold smile. Rook, however -- is a Malakite. His reaction to Irad is classic, expected, but more reasonable than we might have hoped. I fear he will get dissonance over this, nonetheless -- because I do not think for a minute that he believes Irad can be redeemed, or that he cares. Irad is a demon, tolerated only because Arashiel and I insist he will be tolerated.
Irad, for his part, has been cool and said nothing to antagonize Rook, or even said anything yet to me. That is a pain I do not want to examine.
Compound my division: I was elected to tell Rook we'd be bringing Irad to Yellowstone to talk to the roc. Rashi thought it'd go over better, coming from me. . . and I was not *supposed* to tell him about Irad right away. I could not lie to him about that, Arashiel should have known better, and as a result I argued and failed to convince him of anything. I cannot talk to him about Irad. I suppose he needs to know more than he does, but bless and damn him, when he looks at me with serene eyes and says things about demons being demons, as if that is all there is to say -- I want to *snap.* I want to tell him that Irad was the center of my universe, and one does not abandon that readily, that love does not just *disappear*. . . that I agree with Irad's anger, but not his reaction. And that I really need him, on some level, to still be *my Irad.*
And still again. . . I have made a grievous error with Rook. I should have left well enough alone with him. I thought. . . I thought a lot of things. I read his cool control as something akin to Elohim, with their absolute grasp of objectivity, and I forgot that Malakim can and do feel and are free to act on feelings without any rational reasons. I forgot that Malakim can be hurt, and react accordingly. And I forgot that they can even feel fear, and act to avoid that.
He tells me today that he is afraid of my anger. That he says nothing in cases where he thinks I might be angry. This engenders two responses in me. The first: that I should suppress my anger and play happy Cherub, and lie, and try to spare him that stress. The second: that I cannot lie to him or myself forever, and pretend to be someone I am not. And finally, there is the rational part, that says he took a risk in being honest, and I should return the favor. Which will hurt, I suspect, both of us.
I am too quick to anger, ever too quick to anger, and that is something with which he cannot cope. And I cannot deal with the double-edged control of him -- that he will not show emotions, but will act on them. Perhaps those are behaviors we can change, given time, and space, and no Tapestry, no Irad, no Geasa.
He is not Irad. It was unfair of me to even think Rook could drive Irad out of my head and my heart, or protect me from my own shortcomings and my own fear. More unfair: I am displacing my age-old anger with Irad onto Rook, and I do not even know why.
I feel like I am unravelling.
Oh, Eli, let us get this Tapestry resolved. . . soon. Before I snap, or Rook gets dissonance, or Irad tastes our emotions and decides we both need Punishing. . .