Phantom Pain (trilogy)

Raphael

Chapter 26: Raphael

The first thing I noticed were all of the human possessions, pushed to the corners.

The second thing I noticed was Raphael, kneeling in the center of the room.

When my eyes first found him, I took a couple seconds to compose myself. The love I had for him was different than the kind I had for my brothers, for Gavyn, for Penemue. To be chosen to be his second in command had been the crowning moment in my endless life. He was so unbelievably powerful, so good. I had forgotten what it was truly like, being in the presence of an archangel. The shadow that I encountered in my dreams was nothing like this. Held immobile by his light, we waited patiently near the door.

Raphael's sword lay on the floor, light emanating from it. He knelt, his head almost to the ground His gold wings trembled a little, like he was shivering. Beside me, Dariel's hand twitched. I realized what he was doing. He was trying to help, in the small way he could. Any power he possessed was miniscule in comparison to that sword, but it was all he could do, to help our leader in his time of weakness. It was then that I realized I had a lot more to offer. Placing one hand on the hilt of my sword, I tried to focus on the warm light that lifted my spirits as it flowed.

Raphael stopped shivering. His wings had gone rigid. As if something had snapped, he was on his feet, his wings extended fully, his sword clutched in his hand.

He said something that I could not make out. It was like he'd been speaking to himself.

“No,” he repeated it.

He'd been saying no.

At first he did not seem to see us. His eyes were focused on something that was beyond our comprehension. Then they settled on me.

“Ramiel,” he breathed, my name hissing out through his lips.

There was fear in his eyes for a moment, but it disappeared as soon as it had appeared.

“Brother.” He held out his arms.

I hugged him. His hand rested on my jacket, exactly over where the scars were.

“I'm so sorry,” he whispered. Light tingled along the gashes, making me feel whole again, just for a moment. “I am so, so sorry.”

He stepped back, light from the still reflecting sword glancing off of the gold feathers. I was in awe of him, and I as unsure how we'd worked together all those years, when I could barely think. His dark skin was smooth like polished stone—black opal—like I was speaking to a statue.

His hand reached out, stopping centimeters short of my sword's hilt.

“Did Dariel-”

“He told me.” Raphael's voice was still soft, his hand dropping back to his side.