Greetings

Greetings

When I opened my eyes in the realm beyond life, I noted in surprise the sudden changes.  There were spots of black dust on the ground outside the doorway, scattered across the white ground.  I looked about in confusion and saw scorches on the non-surfaces, slowly knitting shut.

“Ah, welcome,” my angel’s voice said.  I turned and saw Him, standing before my door as He always does, if changed.  His armor was off entirely now, and He was clad in a simple tabard and padded pantaloons, not the elaborate armor and robe He usually wore.  His armor was all strung out on a rack beside Him, and it showed heavy damage that slowly repaired itself.

I knelt as always, and we went through our normal ritual of greeting and obeisance, but rather than approach Him as I usually did, I froze as He approached me instead.  To my surprise, He swept me into a hug, wings and all, and rested His chin on my shoulder.  “Ah, my gentle daughter, but you are a sight for sore eyes,” He chuckled tiredly.  “Come, sit with me a while, rest thine head and relax.  It is a comfort for us both today.”

Utterly taken aback, but nowhere near mad enough to complain, I followed Him to my door.  I gave the shade of the trees beyond a look of longing and promise as I usually did, and waved happily to a few Priests I recognized beside it, then sat beside my angelic patron.  However, rather than simply rest my head in His lap, he leaned back against the stone frame of the door and beckoned me closer.  He secured me in His lap and wrapped His arms around my stomach, and his wings around us both, and let out a sigh that I more closely correlated with a trainee after an hour of hard practice than the untiring defender of reality sitting down.  “What a day,” He said wearily.

I squeezed His hand.  Master’s blood, but He felt good, bathing my soul in His radiance and soothing the aches of my horrible battle.  “And here I thought my day had been rough,” I said awkwardly.  Never, in all my recollections of history and the secret archives, had I seen an angel so exhausted but still alive.  This was the sort of embrace I expected from my father after a long day at the lumber mills, holding me close after school to remind himself of why he risked his life and a repeat of his spinal injury every single day.

“The dirteaters got within fifteen feet of the doors today,” He muttered.  “It was all hands on deck.  The leaves shook.”  He sighed.  “The leaves shook.  We were THAT close to having the Master intervene personally.  Or one of the rest of the Septet.”

I shivered.  Even embraced in His warm perfection, that chilled me.  “Wow.”

“They tried to rush thine door,” He said matter-of-factly.

“Oh no.”

“I didn’t let them through.”

“I know, sir,” I said awkwardly.

I felt Him smile.  “Your path through death is still safe, little soul,” He said.  He released me from my spot in His lap and I lay more comfortably beside Him, my head on His leg and my eyes turned to the emptiness above.  “And how was thy day?”

I coughed.  “Er, nothing like that,” I said.  “I just used every scrap of magic healing I had on the horses after we had to force-march them past one of the camps.  It’s getting bad out there.”

“Perhaps why the enemy had such numbers today,” He said grumpily.  He stroked my hair and I felt my anger curdle to childish wriggles of happiness in my stomach.  I couldn’t help but smile when I looked over and saw the fond look on His metallic face.  Brass today.  “Still, ye made it.”

“Yes.”  I closed my eyes and let Him rest a hand on my shoulder.  “That feels nice.”

He and I sat in silence for a few hours of peace, then He sighed.  “Well.  That was less than I had hoped.”

I opened my eyes, then sat bolt upright in alarm.  The black particles on the ground beyond us were agitating.  They were rising up into the air and reforming into vaguely humanoid shapes, far away.

He rose, and His repaired armor clad His body once more with a thought.  A sword of glittering, sparking metal formed in His hands.  “It seems these are but the dregs, but still an irritant,” he grumbled.  He turned to me.  “Noble dreamer, I must send ye to thy waking,” He said.

“May I stay?” I asked.  “Maybe I can help.”

“Selflessly offered and noted, little soul, but pointless,” He said.  “Ye cannot enter the door to escape to safety if I fail, and thine magic is as a pinprick to my avalanche.”  He grinned and raised the visor of His helm long enough to plant a chaste kiss on my cheek.  “But I love ye none the less for it, and I promise I shall give ye thy full rest next time.”  He lowered his visor and materialized a shield, draped in cloth.  “Go.”

I awoke suddenly.  The elves in the group looked over at me oddly as I sprang to my feet, heart pounding.  “Bad dreams?” the ranger asked.

I let out a shaky breath.  “The Court is attacking the walls of the Treeshade,” I said.  “He had to send me back to keep me from being collateral damage.”

The ranger and wizard looked at each other uneasily.  “He’ll be fine,” I promised.  “He said so.”

“Uh huh.”  The wizard shook his head.  “I don’t know why you humans insist on doing everything yourself.”

“He’s not human,” I said automatically.  “He’s better.”

Both elves rolled their eyes.  “Sure,” the ranger muttered.