Never had there been such a strong sense of formality in this room. Despite its official uses, and the assumed air of authority one would equate with it, the sense of decorum had never been so strong. Unlike with most meetings held here, where the numbers could ebb and flow based on requirement, this gathering was quite small. No more than seven stood, almost strategically placed, all with the same nervous tension across their features.
Jonathan stood closest to the head of the room, his wife, Anne, a pace behind his flank. Hands clasped behind his back, his eyes staring straight ahead, one would assume he was completely at ease. But that would not be the case, as no one in this room was calm. Everyone felt the air of anticipation, heavy and weighted.
Not even a week ago, the Angel Yerachmiel had appeared on the spot where Jonathan now stood. As he cast his eyes down, he swore he could still feel the energy, as though the cold, gray brick floor had absorbed part of the Angels being. It was untrue, of course. And yet, he couldn't deny the slight warmth beneath him.
Without warning, a light appeared only paces ahead of him. Bright, white and blinding, it surged for several moments, blocking out the fireplace that was the only main fixture in the Summit hall other than the meeting table. As the light ebbed, in its place remained three figures, their features still obscured by the intensity. They were silhouettes against the brightness, and as the light faded, slowly they came in to view.
Jonathan wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but this was not it. When he had been told three Angels would be sent to him, to work together to better the chance of the Fallen's return to grace, never did he consider that they would appear as human. Or be so young.
There were three of them, all standing forward, the central figure a pace ahead of the others. Hands clasped at their backs, a typical stance of relaxed authority; one that Jonathan and the Fallen representatives were also trying to emulate, but even now, not with the same effect as the newcomers. Each was dressed in a crisp white suit. But as Jonathan had somehow, unconsciously, expected wings to be protruding from their backs, these three were distinctly human in appearance. If it hadn't been for their ethereal air, he would have assumed them mortal.
Their youth was also surprising, as they appeared to be no more than twenty. Of course, Angels did not age, as age itself was a mortal fate. The messengers aged, although at a slower rate than mere humans. Fallen, along with their damnation, aged as though entirely of the human race. When anticipating knowledgeable and just beings from heaven, Jonathan had expected them to appear at his own age. Not barely older than his daughter.
The central figure, immediately taken as the Lead, inclined his head in greeting. He was of average height and build, his hair such a pale blonde Jonathan felt it could be considered white.
"Jonathan Caison," the Angel spoke, the voice so calming, so musical in its tone, it only intensified the reminder that these beings were not of Earth.
"I am," Jonathan responded, in turn with a nod of his head. "I welcome you to Los Angeles."
"We thank you for your acceptance, and for your welcome, Lead." The Angel praised. "Let me introduce my colleagues. This is Miles, an apprentice to Azbogah, who will oversee fair judgment. And Michael, serving under Rahmiel, ensuring mercy." Opening his hands in greeting, the Angel smiled. "I am Ariel, first assistant to Yerachmiel, Angel of Earth. It is he who has summoned us here, on his behalf."
"And we thank him for his faith," Jonathan responded. Stepping back, he gestured towards the council table. "Please, sit."
With a silent grace, the three Angels stepped forward in sync. It was a hypnotic sight to behold, they way they moved. They made no sound on the stone, no movement of their fabrics. Each stood with the perfect poise and posture of Royalty, as they slowly slid into the chairs provided on the messenger side of the table.
As the Fallen representatives took their seats, the noise of their human movements echoing in the cold hall, Jonathan took a moment to observe the newcomers.
Ariel was clearly the Lead, in more than just his speech. The air around him seemed stronger, more powerful than his colleagues. As the first assistant to the archangel himself, Jonathan knew that it would be Ariel to cast the final verdict.
Miles, as the apprentice of judgment, appeared as one would expect. Rather stiff, incredibly formal. His dark skin was a sharp contrast to the white suit he wore, his eyes such a deep brown they appeared almost black. There was not a flaw to be seen on his face, his head shaven completely.
And he turned his eyes to Michael, now sitting to the left of Ariel, Jonathan felt him to seem the most human. At least in appearance. Incredibly tall, well over six feet, with a lean but strong build that was apparent even in the formal clothing they wore. His eyes were the blue of sapphire, the angles of his face so sharp it was as though he were made of glass. His hair, unlike that of his comrades, was a gentle brown, all combining to give him an almost mortal appearance.
But his demeanor was anything but. He sat ramrod straight, his hands clasped gently in front of him as they rested on the table. His face was empty of any emotion, or any sign of intrigue to the world he now occupied. He stared at Jonathan as though he were looking through him.
"Shall we begin?" Ariel suggested, informally calling the first of what was surely to be many meetings to order.
"Of course,"
Wasting no time, Ariel began. "You are aware of our purpose here, and of what we are to observe?"
"We are," Jonathan assured them. "And we feel certain that we will surpass your expectations."
To this, Ariel grinned. The feature seemed almost out of place on his face. "I do hope so. I know Yerachmiel, as well as Azbogah, would much like to finish with this issue."
Jonathan felt thrown, slightly unnerved by the insinuation that the impartiality of the Angels was not so absolute. But he regained his composure quickly. "As do we, I assure you."
The grin remained in place on Ariel's face, as Mile's spoke for the first time.
In a voice shockingly deep, he interrupted. "Your judgment has been a long one, Fallen. One much longer than any past discrepancy faced by the Angels before. It had been hoped, centuries ago, that since your ancestors so resented the mingling of Angels and humans that you would find it easy to repent and resist. It would seem that has not been the case."
Turning his attention to Mile's, Jonathan kept his face impassive. His hands however, were anything but still. Cracking a knuckle under his fingers, he responded. "I'm sure you will find, in your time here, that living among humans is not so easily done. Nor is resistance, when expected to join in their world. Our people must obtain jobs within the city, and work as though human. We befriend them, we work along side them, and employ them in various ways. It is, I assure you, not so easily done to separate yourself completely from a world you are immersed in."
The Angels did not respond, nor did they seem assured.
"We hope, of course, that your impartiality in this matter will bring new light to the matter," Anne interjected, her small hand reaching out and covering Jonathan's, halting the cracking of his knuckles.
Turning his attention to Anne, Ariel nodded. "We intend to remain as impartial as possible. Of course, as our time here continues, your own behavior and influence will in turn guide our verdict."
"What is it that you wish for us?" A voice at the end of the table called. "What do you need to see for you to find us of worth?"
To this, Mile's answered.
"We understand that you are not your ancestors, the ones who made such a foolish choice to overrule the verdict of Azbogah, and free Aerin for his crimes. Nor are you in turn at fault for the choice of Aerin to belief Isaiah worthy of death for falling in love with a human. These were not your choices, and therefore, we do not condemn you for them. We do, however, judge your decisions on Earth. You were sent here because your ancestors believed Angels and humans should not cross, hence your aid in the freeing of Aerin, who committed the gravest crime in the same name of honor. It was a bittersweet punishment, and one that was not chosen without meaning. In all reality, it should have been easy to resist, at least for the earliest Fallen; those who felt so assured that humans were beneath Angels. And yet, year after year, century after century, rather than distancing yourself from them, you have become more and more like them. Which to many is not worthy of retaining your banishment, if it wasn't for your acceptance and emulation of their sins."
"To answer your question," Michael interrupted, his voice soft. "We look for you to resist the sins of this world. As Mile's said, we no longer concern ourselves with the choices that brought you here, but instead, your path to absolution." Leaning forward slightly, Michael looked at Jonathan particularly. "This seems to be an area in which many of the Fallen no longer attempt to redeem themselves. Indulging in alcohol, law breaking and flesh. While some sins are necessary, others are of a purely selfish nature. It is those that we are most concerned with. It is here that you will show your growth."
Jonathan's eyes met Michael's steadily. He knew the point the Angel was making. He knew whom he was referring to.
Straightening his posture, to better match that of his opponents, Jonathan nodded, just as Anne spoke again.
"Perhaps we should continue our discussions at a later date, once you have had a chance to better familiarize yourself with the Otherworld community, and with the city of Los Angeles? I believe, in doing so, you will be better able to understand our lives."
To this, Ariel agreed. "We do grow tired. The weight of Earth is much different on our bodies than of Heaven. I fear it is something that may take getting used to."
With a sweeping hand, Anne gestured to a door at the far end of the hall. "Then please, allow me to show you to your quarters. We have made arrangements for you to have anything you may require."
"We require very little," Ariel replied, however his expression remained gentle. "But we thank you."
Standing from the table, the Angels moved to follow Anne towards the door, as Jonathan stood from his chair.
"We have arranged a gathering in your honor," he injected. "Tomorrow evening, as a way of greeting, and also to show you our ways and life here. You will be able to meet many of the Fallen, as well as the messengers, and we hope that this familiarization will assist in your ruling."
With a nod of acknowledgement, Mile's pressed his hands together. "We look forward to the enlightenment." He said, before turning and following Anne from the room.
Once the door closed in their wake, a collective exhale emitted from the Fallen.
"That didn't sound so impartial," one spoke.
"I think we're buggered already."
"They seem to have already come here with their notions,"
The buzz in the room quickly escalated, as Jonathan ran his hands over his face.
"Stop," he called out, silencing the masses. "We cannot make assumptions yet. We need to remember they know very little of Earth, and even less of human ways. This experience will work in our favor, as they learn to adjust as we did centuries ago. All we have to do is follow their rules, and show them that we are worthy of what the messengers have not granted us. The task is the same, as is the goal."
"But how are we going to address the issues the Angels spoke of?" another Fallen spoke up. "There are some who no longer care for our agenda, or our bid to regain our Heaven rights."
Jonathan met the caller gaze for gaze, as he stood straighter. "I assure you, I will ensure our redemption with my own blood if need be."