Journals of Rook

September 14th, 1999 - Tuesday

I did something unusual last night since my exercises were not calming my mind. I slept. I slept and I dreamed. The dreams were light and commonplace, as I understand the variations of dreams, and probably some of Blandine's side efforts. I wanted to allow my mind complete nothingness, permit the essence of good dreams to interrupt the memory of those that had been forced upon me. I woke this morning finding myself physically strange in some ways but better off mentally. After I had cleaned some strange material from the corners of my eyes and washed my hair to remove the bizarre patterns it had formed, I sat in my garden for the entire morning trying to think. I came to the conclusions that I was having new emotions. I have always had emotions. Other angels assume that as I am a Malakite, I am therefore without emotion. This is hardly the case. Because I do not choose to express them as loudly as others do does not mean that they do not exist. The ones I have experienced throughout my life have been powerful and remain with me. My desire to serve God and Michael, to destroy evil are no more or less powerful than my compassion for humanity and their plight. Would I have added the Oaths I did were not the souls of humanity so important to me? I seek to protect them, though I am not a Cherub. I seek to help them through life, though I am not a Mercurian. I seek to speed them on their way to God, though I am not an Ofanite. They are my very reason for existing and I care for them with all of my heart.
    But I have never cared for another angel. I have had friendships, and strong camaraderie based on long exposure and depending on them for my own safety. There has been nothing more, however. Angels have their duties and those are not always mine. And while I have acted on my love for humanity by seeking to better protect them, I generally find the expression of emotions to be counter-productive. I have many times seen an angel's strength of purpose compromised by allowing themselves to become emotionally muddled. I have never allowed that to happen.
    Until now. I do not know if I allowed it or not. . . could I have resisted? Was this too forced upon me? I do not know, but within me these emotions are growing, seeds planted from some unknown agent and now finding fertile root within me. They confuse me because of their power and my inability to define them. I have never experienced such things. How can I name them when my only exposure to them has been through observation? I feel helpless before their crushing advance, an onrush like a flash flood, inexorable. I feel anger. . . that at least is recognizable. I am furious with Arashiel, with Jael and Arabis for their comments and lack of common sense. . . and yet the emotions of yesterday have been mitigated by the salve of sleep. I can only conclude, and I suppose it would be foolish to ignore it, that Arashiel has attuned to me. She could not have followed me through the Marches without the aid of a Song otherwise. Why has she done this? This is tantamount of Cherubic suicide. To attune to a Malakite, whose existence is based on the seeking out of danger. Sheer folly. I know that Michael would not have demanded this of her. Why then?
    Then Arabis and Jael. I can see Arabis' comments of yesterday in a different light today. Perhaps they were not personal attacks. Rather, they were concerns that were brought to the attention of the entire party. I still disagree, however. We can not let the threat of violence against us or the loss of information deter us from acting as a strong a unified force as possible. We can not play the way that they do. That is what divides us from the infernal. . . our ability to trust, our ability to work together because it is right rather than out of fear or threat. Our ability to be the instruments of God's love.
    Yet Jael . . . I know I can trust her. I know I can. I have felt my existence from within her. I must learn to speak to her. . . the core of comprehension is there, I must simply reach it.
    But, these emotions. I can not sit here any longer. I do not know what to do. I will go and teach this class myself. It might help to push these questions from my mind.

later --- Matt joined me to tell me that a Lilim was in town and, perhaps redeemable, was under the protection of himself and Giles. His comments clearly indicated that he expected a violent reaction from me to this news. How little Matt knows me. Even the Rook of old would not have flown into a rage at that one. What, I'm going to race from my home to attack an infernal protected by a Seneschal and best friend? No, dear Matt. Violence to a purpose and mindless violence are not the same. Even were she not being protected, I would not have attacked Matt for bringing me this news. As he got no reaction and no comment, he left.
    And was followed a moment later by a very nervous looking Bob and a carefully neutral Jael. I wondered what might have brought them to me together. I did not need to wait too long for Bob to get to the point.
    "Yesterday, when you asked me if I knew hellspeak. . . I was not entirely honest with you. I do speak it, perfectly. I was Redeemed."
    "I understand. I wanted to let you know that if you needed someplace to stay while the Triad is in Boulder I have guest quarters available here," I said, feeling nothing toward him. . . not anger at his hiding this from me nor enjoyment of his obvious discomfort. He left and I was alone with Jael.
    "Fire and Light. . . my Songs. They're Fire and Light."
    "Thank you."
    "Just promise me that you won't go into the Marches alone. You could take Arashiel with you." She said no more when she noticed my brief flash of anger and disgust. It faded quickly, replaced by an calmer fatigue and acceptance of my duty.
    "This is my mission, Jael, and my shame. But. . . for you. . . I won't go alone."
    "Will you be leaving right away?" she continued, quietly.
    "No, I will be doing additional research, possibly on different methods and subjects."
    This was extremely uncomfortable. I could feel the most bizarre sensation I had encountered in my entire existence. . . a kind of strange bubbly movement in my stomach, a chill shivery feeling in my shoulders. I also had the most powerful desire to comfort Jael. I had to say something.
    "I am sorry that I have angered you. I don't understand how but I did anger you. Still, I am a different person now. Something jump-started in me. . . something from you. I don't know what to do with these things. There was a time I thought to use you as a template for my considerations."
    "Well, you'll have to let me know if the 'was' changes to an 'is.'"
    "I have faced demons of every variety, stood firm and emotionless before their epithets for centuries and yet you have the uncanny knack for finding exactly the right words to hurt me," I told her.
    "So do you," she responded. "Haven't you ever wondered why Michael put you here? Here where you are all alone and things have been peaceful?" Jael asked with intensity.
    An entire world of possibilities opened before me at that moment, ones I had never seen before. I grew heated with my chagrin.
    "Yes, I have. Perhaps it is to discover these things, these thoughts and emotions that I am only just now discovering pushing themselves to the forefront."
    I did not know exactly what had been accomplished, but something had been mended between us. I did not know where it would lead, or to what purpose, and this uncertainty pushed me forward once more, in discomfort, to the realm of the known and expected. Mindful of how she had reacted to my ideas the day before, I nevertheless told her of my plans for using the Internet to interfere with the workings of the nightmares tether in Manitou Springs.
    "I hate the thought of giving any additional power to religious fanatics," Jael remarked. "They have caused my kind and so much pain over the years."
    "Yes, but I would not be creating any more than already exist. I would just be using them for a purpose of worth. Perhaps in this they will have reversed some of the onus upon them. Besides, Michael did tell me that he wanted to me do all I could to. . . well, to quote Michael, "fuck up," Beleth's work wherever I found it. I would not be attacking the tether directly. I will research it beforehand, I assure you, and will do nothing if it might endanger any human lives or be traceable back to me."
    "Just be cautious," she answered, gently.
    She went on to inform me of the Lilim and all her research with Arashiel on the Tapestry. "Well, I need to go upstairs and conduct my research as well. I suppose I will have to meet this Lilim." We left and, outside the library, I picked some flowers. I did not explain as I was not certain I wanted to think about my plan any more than accepting it as inspiration. That might make me stop. Once inside, we found Giles, Matt and the Lilim. Into action I went. . . I wonder if my eyes burned with the distaste I was feeling or if I covered it adequately. Matt kissed me! That shock almost blew my control. . . a kind of physical interaction I was not accustomed to, but I made it to her after everyone else.
    "Oooh, who are you? I hope you're going to be in town a long time." I gave her two flowers and she accepted them, and I resonated her immediately. Once I had finished my introductions I left with Jael and explained to her what I had found. She seemed a bit distant, her brow furrowed. When Matt arrived I turned my thoughts to him, mindful of what Jael had said about my style of sharing ideas and my good opinions of Matt in general. He accepted my idea and said he would think about it, perhaps making a special trip to the Novalis Tether in Denver were he to conclude the idea a worthy one. I wanted to tell him it was, but I did not. Instead, Jael and I left.
    As we were making our way upstairs to conduct research, Jael dropped another question that had obviously been on her mind.
    "I want to know why you are angry with Arashiel. Because she followed you? Is that why you're mad?"
    "I am not going to think about that one too much because I don't want to reach certain conclusions," I replied, even though I already had one pretty firmly in my mind.
    "That's what she does," Jael said, believing I had already reached that conclusion despite my desire to avoid it.
    "Attuning to a Malakite is a mistake."
    "You are very stubborn, Rook," she said, shaking her head.
    "And so are you. We share a lot in common," I pointed out, quietly.
    "We do."
    I was not a few moments before I realized it was actually time for Matt's first lesson. This I wanted to see. Both of us watched, Jael and myself. Matt comported himself well, I found. I was rather surprised. Actually, I should not have been surprised. People who have an excellent sense of their own bodies often prove themselves more readily capable of such exercises, more in tune with their bodies in relation to the space around them. I did not stay to watch the entire thing. I think he will do well and may, in time, be forced to give up flowers all together because of extreme capability!
    Once this was done Jael and I returned to Heaven to conduct research on the Tapestry. I found some leads in the texts on the Laurentian line of soldiers but overall nothing explicit. I am going to encourage Arashiel to continue with her direct experimentation and I am optimistic that Giles will be able to get us access to the information that is kept in the vault. That could hold more concrete answers.
    On the less scholastic side of things, I felt a curious pleasure at working silently beside Jael. This was a familiar sensation but bound to an activity that would previously have seemed its antithesis. Her long tail occasionally curled around my ankle possessively, a friendly gesture that spoke of her enjoyment of our activity. Her scales fairly burgeoned with heat and the silence between us reverberated as though we were shouting. I wanted to smile and did, slightly. Who is this angel I am becoming? I do not understand, and yet the sensations I am finding before me are no less pleasant for their inexplicable natures and origins. I wanted to stroke her wing, which fluttered over me like a great, protective canopy. . . but I did not.
    When we parted to return to our respective earth-side destinations I felt a curious emptiness. . . not of food or creature comfort, no, of spirit. The air was colder and my rooms seemed sterile. Curious. . . I had heard these words before. The association was. . . well, was it?
    I was not at home for more than four or five hours, time spent trying to familiarize myself with the Internet (definitely a sending of hell), when I received a call from a somewhat breathless Jael. A member of the Triad had found Bob and was waiting outside his apartment. Bob had spotted him and come for help to the Painted Pot. I shook my head, knowing Jael would not see it. He came for help to the Painted Pot. I sighed inwardly. . . yes, I would come and get them and we would go and see what we found.
    On the way, we formulated a plan. Curiously, it was me who pointed out that this might not be a demon at all and that we would need to verify that information before we harmed the person. I could see in the entire scene Bob's rampant paranoia. Who is more detrimental to a group, a non-thinking, paranoid or a calculated, efficient warrior? No matter, Matt and I soon verified the infernal nature of the man in the car and Arashiel and I set to work. Arashiel produced an amazing weapon --- just picked that up this afternoon Arashiel? --- and together we did well. The creature was a Calabite. Songs rocked the Symphony around us, some from the three of us, some from without. Jael blinded the man, Arabis attacked in her avian fury and he began to fail quickly before our amassed attacks. When Arashiel disappeared it took me several moments to see that she had gone celestial and was attacking there as well. Excellent, the demon would die permanently. First its essence and then its vessel, now vacant, was destroyed. I did not care how much the Symphony shook, I was nearly blind with my satisfaction over this kill. It was perfect. . . there had hardly been an injury among us. Once we had dealt with covering the body's death for the mundane authorities, it was time to return home, leaving speech for the morning.
    Words were for tomorrow. . . now was the time for action.


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