Journals of Rook

In the Marches

I am taking a break now in order to work on this journal. In the days since I have been gone, indeed, since I have been busy with numerous things in Boulder, my garden behind the Board has gotten a little wild. There are the beginnings of autumn leaves accumulating and a good bit of growth answering the extreme warmth we have maintained this late in the year. Neither Matt nor myself has been free to take the time which, prior to this month, was the standard for us. We have been busy. And what a month it has been. I feel as if I have grown in reckless abandon like these plants before me, branching into configurations previously unknown to me, in glorious colors and combinations. I am not the angel I was as August ended and I am glad for it. Yes, with everything bad that has happened and that may still await I can say in all earnestness at this juncture that I am happy for what I have become.
    I have lived through a taste of Hell, with the help of strong people on both sides of the celestial chasm. I have learned a great deal about choirs and Archangels I had not comprehended before. . . things I had not imagined. I have hurt many and been hurt. I have experienced joy, in mind and body, and given it as well. Respect has grown within me for those I previously held in low esteem and, sadly, the reverse has happened as well. Most importantly, however, I have done something truly noble. I have lived a lifetime pursuing noble deeds, taking pride in my accomplishments and nobility. This time, however, I have done something truly worthy of the appellation of nobility. I have helped a great group of beings recover their autonomy and I have done it together with my friends. Yes, my friends. And while the release of these beings will complicate my life immeasurably, I have not the slightest regret or reprobation. At last I have tasted something as close as I can imagine to God's true purpose. And, oddly enough, I think I have found out something of what it is like to be a Cherub.
    When we heard of the demons coming for us I was most eager to engage them but the logic of the others prevailed. My bloodlust was inappropriate in the face of those that needed my help, our help. We ran, unweaving as we went. Alaric was handing out business cards for Michael. I found this intriguing. Michael had evidently known we would do something like this and wanted Alaric on hand for this purpose. Good to know I was not his sole reason for being around.
    Eventually, with many changes in landscape, and the discovery that a group of Urielien Malakim were on their way to engage us, we were forced to make a decision on our course within a desert dreamscape. The protector of this place, a great cat, had come to our unknowing aid by facing down the Malakim. Arabis wanted to help her. I was not unwilling and we moved to intercept the angels on the ethereal's behalf. And ours. I was very uncomfortable fighting other angels and so aimed to disarm them of their terrible artifacts rather than take them on directly. Jael and Arabis fought nearby.
    Unfortunately, I found my placement difficult a few moments later. The group of demons had arrived and were about to set upon Matt and Alaric, the present holders of the Tapestry. I could see that the ethereal was taking damage and, indeed, so was Jael. The Malakim before me were all furious at our behavior and would show no mercy. I had to think logically for a moment. My instinct was to stay and assist Jael but I knew that the right thing to do was to guard the Tapestry. There were many within that artifact that would have no chance were they to be taken by demons, or by these angels. Countless lives would be lost, countless possibilities rendered neuter. Jael, despite her own danger, would not want me to protect her while risking that magnitude of loss. And I wanted to stay and continue my efforts with the Malakim; they were as misguided as demons in their blind pursuit of their goals, but I had no choice. I left them, the one before me frothing, and moved toward the Tapestry. There came an unpleasant sensation in my ears which, at first, I took to be some failed Song attempt or some vagary of the Far Marches. It was only a moment before the shocked realization struck me. . . it was dissonance! I had actually acquired dissonance, something I had quite assiduously, quite PASSIONATELY avoided throughout all my years. I was leaving a battle. It did not matter that I was leaving one battle for another, or their relative import. . . none of that mattered. The chains of my being knew only that I was leaving a battle; it was a battle I very much wanted to continue, but I could not. Intelligence and honor demanded more and I wanted to be that Malakite, the one that could see the difference and go with the greater purpose. I had before examples of Malakim who could not see that distinction. I did not want to be like them.
    So, the Djinn. . . ah, I took to it with a relish. I had every determination to destroy it but I was not permitted to finish. I heard something but did not have the brain power to recognize it. Too much of my recent frustration was being allowed to come out and this, the source of much of it. The poor, hapless Djinn. . . it was spared by a most unlikely savior.
    "Negotiations didn't work?" the Archangel of Flowers asked me. I realized that the throat which one of my hands had been curled around was no longer there.
    "Um. . . no."
    I followed her over to the battle between the Malakim and my own group. The ethereal was gone. She encouraged the Malakim to leave and soon we were in relative safety. She healed everyone, re-essenced and removed all Song influences. She also removed my dissonance without comment, and brought us all together. Her pride in Matt beamed on her face. Everywhere she walked there grew a burst of desert plants. It was beautiful.
    "You were right to call me when you did. There could have been death. There could have been Remnants!" she commented, aghast. She and Matt walked a little away while we surveyed the situation. It seemed that Matt and Alaric had been trying to release the griffin --- Cariel --- rather than continue unweaving. When Novalis returned, she took us to the gray featureless dreamscape we had come through and encouraged us to finish what we were doing with the Tapestry. . . quickly.
    "I will have to speak with the Seraphim Council, you know. Given the way things have gone here," she said, eyeing me and Alaric with intensity and a hint of import, "I may have something to say to War other than 'stop smiting!'" I could see a somewhat exasperated but humored smile grow on her lips. She cocked her head and said, "Rook, TRY to ask before smiting, ok? And here, have a brownie."
    A brownie?
    "Yes, ma'am."
    Who would turn down the brownie of an Archangel, even if the timing seemed odd. I ate it.
    I have no idea what was in that brownie, but the result was instant and gratifying. Suddenly, the gray dreamscape around me was filled with bright colors, great forests and rivers and caves and meadows and clouds and creatures and laughing and faeries and cows and giants and dragons and hair and rocks and green rabbits and angels and singing and leaves and eyes and old doors and violins and wishing wells and griffins and words and. . .
    Even now, I am not sure what Novalis did to be but I would guess that it was some sort of Song of Relaxation, perhaps related to the Song of Harmony which Matt always uses. It was a great while before I realized that this was not a dream in a dreamscape but the successful release of the contents of the Tapestry. It was beautiful. It mesmerized me as I walked through it, seeing things of such beauty and diversity that I could not comprehend them all. None seemed threatening or threatened by me. . . everything was fine.
    And there were dragons there. . . some of them as beautiful as Jael. I knew she must be feeling great emotions. Poor Jael. . . it must have been a hard thing, living all those years without that connection. I wondered if this would help.
    Then I was here, at home. I remember wanting to go and see the blacksmith, Wayland, but I did not end up there. I am not sure how I got here, even. But I awoke to the common bustle of the Board and a clear head. I greeted Sangeeta, Jane Ann and Todd and they all seemed happy to see me. Mindful of the hours I have been gone of late, I asked Sangeeta to have checks drawn up for all of my employees giving them a bonus. . . a really big one. The money just sits there anyway, most of the time. Why not? I have been gone and they have had to cover for me a lot. Sangeeta took the news of her own bonus with the composure I have rarely seen her lose. Just a thank you. Good woman.
    So I have spent the morning here in my garden, tidying. I have much to do. I want to check in on Perry and I am not unmindful of the offer I made to Cariel. Now that I am sentient, I would like to reiterate it and pursue their safety with great vigor. There will be many repercussions. . . I may be busy.
    And I must rethink many things within myself. I have worked with hell, voluntarily. I have associated with this Irad as an equal. I do not presume to believe he is out of our lives. While the Tapestry is gone, his interest in Jael from their past association may remain. Either way, I must rethink my own relations with his kind. Perhaps there ARE times when smiting is not the best course. I DID tell Novalis I would try. I don't know what this means, but I will speak with Jael about it.
    That will be good.


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