An Angel’s Road to Hell

Cassandra Pendragon

“That went rather well, don’t you think,” I whispered while I tightened the noose around her dark, gleaming neck. “In a way, you even did me a favour… also, while it’s not going to change a thing, I still want you to know that I’m sorry. It didn’t have to end like this.”

“Yes, it did,” she spat. “Save your hollow words, angel, and get on with it. I’m bored.”

“Your wish is my command.” I took a single step back, reached for the dangling end of the rope and pulled, with more force than I would have needed. I didn’t want her to suffocate, her life had been filled with enough misery already and I didn’t plan on having her suffer even more.

Her neck broke immediately and her feet twitched, once, before I hoisted a corpse into the air. Not a single sound wafted through the Garden, every eye was glued to the macabre display of so called justice as wretched creatures watched in righteous outrage while one of their own became a sad memorial of withered dreams and misguided aspirations. I had to suppress a cruel sneer when I thought about how easily they would have seen me hanging there as well, if things had turned out just slightly different. Fortunately it was pretty hard to argue with the victims of a crime and the testimony of the two poor souls, whom she had killed, had been condemning enough, even without the additional evidence the leader of the assassins had provide. After some mild persuasion, that is, the traces of which were still dripping from my fingers, drop by bloody drop.

I could have ordered him to tell the truth as well, if I had wanted to, but the desperate, anguished look on the faces of the younglings he had taken had made me opt for a more honest, more brutal approach. You might call me a hypocrite for trying to save the one, who had engineered the whole affair, from pain while I had willingly tortured a tool and you’d be right but then again, you neither touched her mind nor his. She hadn’t had much of a choice while he had succumbed to the cruel lure of becoming hatred incarnate, of becoming a mindless weapon willingly. Actio libera in causa.

With a twist I turned and fastened the cord around another green branch. Her body swung slowly in the light breeze, a mesmerising pendulum of sorrow, measuring not time but the broken promises of a people stuck between hope and revenge. I shuddered, unable to keep the flood of memories, the sad spectacle was threatening to evoke, at bay. Rows upon rows of crucified bodies, decaying underneath a burning sky along the grande road between Rome and Capua, filled the deserted alleys, the strangled cries of an innocent people, slaughtered in a single night because their king hadn’t been able to see the doom, hiding inside a wooden horse, and their prince hadn’t been able to keep his hands off a married woman, thundered against my ears and the desperate echoes of frightened children, hiding from the hail of steel and fire, disgorged by faceless monstrosities, sailing quietly through the London night, drowned my mind.

My wings manifested on their own accord and while I was succinctly aware of what was real and what was a shadow of my past I still felt like I was being smothered by the accumulated grief of aeons, brought forth by my disgust with my own actions, my inability to do what I wanted but rather what I was forced to. When it came down to it, I didn’t mind fighting, I didn’t mind killing, but what I hated, more than anything in the world, was judging, was condemning others. I had seen so many examples of good intentions paving the road to hell, a common saying, for sure, but there was so much truth in it. And now, staring at the bare legs of a girl, who would have been able to live a normal, peaceful life, if she hadn’t been forced to take up arms, to fight to fill her belly, who would have been a mother if she hadn’t met Amon, while her vibrant skin slowly turned pale in death, I felt dirtied. This much, at least, I could do for her. She wouldn’t become a feast for the crows, she wouldn’t remain stuck here for eternity. I’d set her free, even if she didn’t deserve it.

My powers swelled in my veins, my wings flickered and hissed like an enraged dragon, the pressure I exuded surged and with a single step I was at her side again. A glaring flame, the taste of aeons torn asunder in the air and a heartbeat later the wind carried away her ashes, carried them to distant shores and a new tomorrow. May you find peace and may your next life be more forgiving, I prayed silently, even though I knew no one was listening, at least not to me. What was the saying again? If you want something done, better do it yourself. Unfortunately I couldn’t be everywhere at once.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, pushing the rising murmurs and the stench of the city to the back of mind. Far away I smelled the sea, I heard the whispering of ancient tress and the flight of birds, soaring in the sky. It wasn’t much but it was enough to lighten my melancholic, somewhat destructive mood. I really had to pull my shit together. I had always been prone to pointless reminiscence but this was honestly a tad much. If I began fretting over every life I’d have to take without a fight, I’d soon become unable to move my sorry ass out of bed in the morning. A self deprecating smile formed on my face as I squared my shoulders and opened my eyes again, the ghosts of my past no longer tormenting my present. They were dead, gone, and buried, just like her. I had seen to that.

A sea of faces stared up at me, some of them reflecting awe, others fear, but there was no hatred, no lingering desire for revenge or punishment. In a way her death had washed me, had washed us clean, which was rather ironic, considering how I had felt not a minute ago. “It’s done,” I stated quietly, the eerie cadence in my voice easily silencing the rising whispers. “And it’s also been the last time. Never again am I going to become your hangman or an outlet for your frustration. My word is good, I won’t leave you out in the cold, but hear me, should this scene play out again, you’ll soon find out what it means to face the wrath of someone who has your gods cowering. Take it to heart, for the next idiot who comes to our door, bearing arms or accusations, won’t leave. Slaves you are no more, but you are still guests upon our land and I expect you to behave as such. Have I made myself clear?” They shuffled on their feet, bated murmurs rising but no one had the courage to look up, never mind answering.

“Have I made myself clear,” I repeated, my voice slashing through the air like a whip.

“You have,” the man, who had brought his son here, finally spoke up. He bowed deeply form the waist, prompting his child to do the same. Like the first domino falling their actions spread, until Ahri and I were the last ones standing upright, even the dwarfs and the elves had joined in. She had never left my side and I jerked when she caressingly placed her hand on my lower back. Sorrow, grief and pride reverberated in her thoughts as she sent two images: Lucifer alone and crushed under the burdens, she had been too blind to see, and the two of us, prevailing together where he had faltered. “Thank you,” I whispered, when I realised she had been privy to the whole plethora of idiocy I had had going through my mind. Knowing that she’d be there to catch me, even if I fell, was enough to finally rid myself of the last lingering doubts I hadn’t been able to banish. She accepted me for who I was, coward, hero, murderer and saint and that was all I needed. That was all I had ever wanted.

Smiling genuinely I said: “rise. There is no need to bow before me. I’d rather have your trust than your obedience. Come on then, the day is still young and there is much to do, in case you don’t want to keep sleeping on the ground.” Chuckling quietly I added: “now, that we’ve established that none of us are bloodthirsty monsters, I’m sure we can come up with a solution that provides you with a roof over your head and ample food in your bellies. But first, I guess it’s about time for you to meet your friendly neighbourhood dryad.”

I was leaning over a bloodied, mangled face, the mouth swollen, the eyes burned out by silvery flames, a tortuous contrast to the cheerful, almost boisterous sounds I heard in the distance. “Should have stayed with your family and become a farmer,” I murmured to no effect. He couldn’t hear me, the loving administration of his own medicine, I had subjected him to, had robbed him of his senses. Not that it mattered. When last we had… talked I had realised that my awakened life force allowed me to read minds more easily. The brain was a living organ, after all, and my control had increased immensely. I wouldn’t yet call myself a telepath but I was well on my way to get there, even without any tedious practice.

To cut a long story short, Sarkhan’s, life had started like most tragedies: almost boringly normal. A young man, longing for something more, had left his small village and some ugly turns and twists later I was staring at a broken shadow of a man, his hope and sense of self eclipsed by a cruel reality and a handful of stupid decision. Did I pity him? No, but I did understand him. It wouldn’t change much, but I intended to keep on sending a few coins back to his hometown each month. He had never told them what he had become and they didn’t need to know now, either.

I went down on my haunches and patted him down, searching for the key I new I’d find. His clothes were already soaked, the wounds I hadn’t bothered to cauterise were still oozing blood, and I had to suppress a disgusted shudder, when I felt the wet, warm, reeking dark robe part around my fingers. A few seconds later I produced a heavy bronze key with an intricate bit, half coagulated blood turning the metal almost black.

It belonged to a guarded door, not too far from here. Behind it I’d find an ancient temple, a carved cavern that stemmed from a time when Free Land had still been a small town, paralysed in fear of the vampires, who had stalked its streets at night. It was there, where the fallen angels of vengeance met every new moon and there I’d find the trophies and accounts of their misdeeds. Incidentally, it was also on the way to the harbour, where Arthur and his prisoners, the townsfolk I had liberated from Amon’s control, waited for me. I could only hope that they’d turn out to be less insane, less twisted, than the puppet I had hanged, but since he hadn’t possessed them personally, I was confident they wouldn’t try to frame me for murder. At least not on their first day.

“Do you have a minute,” a deep, raspy voice interrupted my thoughts. A middle aged man stood before me, fidgeting like a nervous school boy, while Greta, with some help from the dwarfs, was dividing the former slaves into groups of twenty in the background. With her magical assistance they’d start repairing the mansions around the square. With a little luck some might even spend the night in their own, new home. A little further away, our elves, Liz, Alassara, the Madame and her girls as well as Ahri were engrossed in a conversation with the Brightblaze sisters, lounging in the shadow of a cherry tree. Another stop I’d have to make on my way to the harbour.

“Sure, what’s on your mind,” I inquired while I rose and my hands became engulfed in silvery flames. The crimson gloves I wore burned and a shower of ash rained to the ground. He shrugged timidly, his eyes darting everywhere without ever meeting my gaze or lingering on the maimed body at my feet. To his credit, he didn’t seem to have much of a problem with what I had done, though. An eye for an eye, and considering the plan had been to force the slaves into a blood crazed frenzy, where I wouldn’t have had much of a choice but to kill them, which would have painted me and my family as tyrannical usurpers, he had still got off easy. Especially with the inciting screams of his would be victims still ringing in my ears. Even I had had cold shudders running down my back when I had listened to their incredibly creative suggestions.

“I’ve come here to apologise for my sons actions. He… I don’t know if you remember but he started a fight with one of your people. An uncalled for fight.”

“Shouldn’t he be the one apologising, then,” I interrupted softly. “And to my sister, Reia, instead of me?”

“Probably, but since I can hardly find the courage to face you I don’t expect a kid to do it,” he mumbled. “He’s young and a fool, like most boys his age, but he didn’t…”

“Mean it? Don’t lie to me. We both know he did. He was just unlucky enough to target a beast kin girl who can actually fight back and now you’re scared, dreading we might hold a grudge, aren’t you? No need to worry, he wasn’t the first and he won’t be the last. If that’s all…”

“No! Look…” he exhaled slowly and met my gaze. That, more than anything else, prompted me to listen. “You’re right. He acted like a spoiled brat and apparently I’m not doing much better. Yes, if I wasn’t scared he might have pissed off the most powerful creature in Free Land I probably wouldn’t even be here, but that doesn’t mean I’m condoning what he’s done, nor does it mean that he usually acts like this.”

“Why did he, then?”

“That’s… probably something he should tell you himself. In case you’re even prepared to listen.”

“I am, but again, I’m not the one who needs an explanation. Why don’t you fetch your boy while I go looking for my sister? I can’t promise she’ll be willing to accept an apology but that’s the risk you’re going to have to take, isn’t it?”

“And what happens if she doesn’t,” he asked anxiously.

“Nothing much, but I guess we won’t be seeing each other again.”

“Fair enough. Will you… do we have to meet here? I’d rather not have him see… this,” he jerked his head towards the unmoving body on the ground. “I’ve sent him packing when you…”

“Burned out his eyes? Don’t sweat it, I know what I’ve done. You can bring him to the entrance.” I closed my eyes and reached for Greta’s rugged, coarse thoughts. My own ability to touch someone’s mind was still limited to the range of my wings, unless I tried really hard. Something I wasn’t prepared to risk with my baby sister. “Reia will be out in a minute,” I continued a heartbeat later. “Why don’t you go on ahead and fetch your boy? I’ll be with you shortly. I just have to… clean up.” He nodded curtly, still trying his utmost to avoid looking at the mangled man.

After he had wheeled around and vanished behind a tree, I hesitated. At first I had thought about keeping the wreck in front of me alive, but he was neither the leader of the cult nor was there a lot of information left I could have extracted. Allowing him to keep on breathing would simply add another burden to the already crushing pile I was trying to squirm out from underneath. Sighing I gently placed my hand above his heart. The soft touch made him shiver, as if he knew what was about to happen, but before the tremors could even spread, I allowed a wave of power to surge from my core and channeled it through my hand and into the warm bundle of flesh at my feet.

Light flashed between my fingers, the empty sockets of his eyes glowed in silver and blue, the scent of cooked meet rose and his limbs became still. The Soul Catcher seemed to relax, but there was no presence left in the burned out husk and when I removed my hand, the charred edges of the hole, his chest had become, crumbled silently, a black shower of ash and soot that was carried away by the soft breeze. For a moment I toyed with the idea of incinerating the corpse, but his people buried their dead and I wasn’t willing to hold a grudge against a piece of meat. I didn’t believe, no, I knew it didn’t matter what became of a body once the soul had passed on, but I still respected his faith. I’d pick out a nice place to put him to rest once I’d return.