Exousia - The Patron Saints of the Damned -Book II
Chapter 6 - Unchosen One

Exousia never summoned any loyalist to help her with her wounds. She used sparring tape to bind the deep cut in her hand. The shallower cut at her neck was minor enough that she elected to let it close up on its own–helped along by her faster than human healing. She had determined never to allow anyone to see anything that they could perceive in her as weakness ever again. Exousia would never let anyone destroy her like that again; she would reveal nothing in herself; she would become the weapon her people needed.

Gabriel visited the next morning, entering the barracks in complete silence. As usual, he carried only his golden circular shield. Unlike Michael’s mission-oriented attitude, Gabriel seemed … somber. Almost like he was conflicted about being here at all. He had the loose hairs of various animals visible on his robes. It seemed the Archangel was a pet person.

Exousia gathered all this from a brief glance. However, she was languid in looking up from the book she’d been reading. There was no point in being excited at the angel’s arrival nor in childishly pretending that he wasn’t there, she had decided. She looked up passionlessly and regarded his presence.

“Raphael asked me to bring a few things,” Gabriel said, placing several books on the table and then leaving them. They looked much different from the volumes of history that had previously been left for her–with covers ornate in gold lettering and featuring seemingly impossible configurations of geometric shapes. “I was also informed that you are ready for your next lesson.”

Exousia left her face completely expressionless. Instead of responding, she said. “Dufaii told me about you … about what sort of person you are and how the angels regard you. So, do you know why the Creator waited until now to order my training?” The question was not a demand nor an emotional plea for some sort of meaning. And though she doubted she would get a straight answer, it seemed worth a shot.

Gabriel narrowed his eyebrows and then seemed to notice her bandaged hand. He closed his eyes in a grim expression and sighed. “The Creator had no hand in any of it, specifying only that it was to be a human. I was the one who chose you as the champion as well as the one who chose not to train you until now. Though I will also confess having previously no intention of ever training you at all.”

It was all Exousia could do not to let her jaw drop. “Why?”

“Honestly, I was not inclined to believe that you would survive the challenge,” Gabriel said, his words too plain to have been anything but honest. “In fact, I still don’t think it’s possible for you to win. If it were, there would have been some sort of instruction for how to make you ready before now.”

Exousia felt unsatisfied at this answer. But the dissatisfaction felt hollow and right … the dissatisfaction of truth. Of course, that didn’t mean that she didn’t have more questions. “But you brought me here.”

“At Michael’s and Raphael’s insistence,” Gabriel replied. “They have their various reasons, which I recognize without sharing. It was out of respect for them and their followers that I allowed your training. Well … that, the death of your parents, and the blending of your soul with that of your teacher. The last of these perhaps adding the faintest shadow of a hope that you might succeed.”

Exousia shook her head, still not fully understanding.

Gabriel again sighed. “I planned to quietly leave you to live as full a human life as you could before the demons found you to initiate the challenge. It seemed the most humane option. However, Hell somehow gained access to this information, and made contact well into your infancy. We might have deliberated on acting then but, for the longest time, even they seemed happy to simply study you from a distance.”

“But … my life is better now,” Exousia replied, meaning it despite everything she’d gone through and the fact that her memories of her human life were hazy at best.

Gabriel nodded. “Which is exactly why we left you in Dufaii’s care. Though unorthodox, we all knew the Godkiller well. In the absence of human parents, we knew he would care for you better than most humans would.”

Exousia nodded to herself as she pieced all this information together. It all made sense … and left her with two final questions. “Why did the Creator force you to choose a human? And … why did you choose me? You said that you didn’t think that any human would stand a chance.”

Gabriel nodded and swallowed. It was easy to see that this was a conversation he’d been dreading–accounting for all the pain he’d caused and had let come to pass. “As for your first question, I don’t know the answer. I’ve been trying for the longest time to figure out why the Creator demanded a human champion. But I chose you specifically because you and those who were supposed to have cared about you would have felt it least.”

Exousia furrowed her brow.

Gabriel nodded, accepting her visible confusion. “I am chief of the guardian angels–those whose vocation for millennia has been to identify humans early on with the potential of sainthood–characteristics of kindness, justice, and mercy who could undo human and demon systems of corruption.”

Exousia nodded, she was familiar with all of that. Of all the angels–the horrific guard who perpetuated the oppression of demons and then the caretakers who sycophantically tended to the Creator–guardian angels were perhaps the least distasteful. At least they tried in their own ways to fix the lousy state of affairs that the Earth had been left in. And even if they minimized the number of human souls condemned to be butchered for demon nourishment, it wasn’t as if they could ever end the flow of truly loathsome souls.

Gabriel continued, “Conversely, we’re also very adept at identifying souls that are fragile, destined to break under the horrors of the life they were born to. So I found one of these souls … one who would most likely welcome death with open arms once it came to them.”

This time, Exousia’s jaw did drop. She hadn’t been chosen for any hidden strength or because she had some kind of improved chance to succeed. Just the opposite. She’d been chosen because … it would have been of no real loss to her parents or to herself for her life have ended at the hands of demons. The Archangels had been forced to prepare a human sacrifice … and so they’d culled the most sickly animal the herd could have spared. Now, everything truly made sense–why they had left her all those years with only a member of the angelic guard who couldn’t have been asked with her wellbeing. Exousia’s victory had never been an option because no human’s had. It was only being considered now because of Dufaii … her parent … who given a piece of his soul to prevent her from taking on the same madness as Ammon.

If Gabriel suspected what all she’d been thinking, he still did not reply to any of it. Instead, he turned and said, “I have thought carefully about what sort of test or lesson I could give you … how I could possibly increase your odds in the Challenge to come. Unfortunately, I feel least equipped to instruct a human in the ways of war, manipulation, or assassination. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I don’t even carry a proper weapon. So, for my teaching, I have elected to reveal to you the truth of your circumstances, in case they will help you at all. In addition, I would show you something that I learned a long time ago.”

Exousia paused to think this over. But by now, with all her lifelong questions being answered for nothing, she was too far down the rabbit hole to turn back now. So she nodded and stood. The two of them walked out of the barracks and began to follow the same path towards the mountains.

After a few minutes, however, Gabriel knelt and put his hands flat by his sides. It was an indication to climb on his back. Exousia did so, as she had on occasion with Dufaii. Gabriel launched powerfully from the ground, which quickly shrank beneath them as they soared nearly as high as the clouds.

From their elevation, Exousia could see that Heaven was shaped like a giant oval island, with the enormous lake and city taking up the middle. These were surrounded by the mountains, the barracks, the Library, and the Holy of Holies. They flew toward the five mountain peaks. When they were overhead, Exousia saw the massive crater that had once been the sixth peak.

Gabriel landed on the snow-capped peak closest to the crater. As with all things in Heaven, the snow did not bite. It was frosty and pleasant. But what wasn’t fake was the enormous golden eagle that swooped down at them.

Exousia fell into a defensive posture.

“It’s alright,” Gabriel said. He extended his arm so that the enormous animal could land on it. There must have been leather armor beneath his shirt because the eagle’s talons went right through, and he did not react. Instead, he smiled and scratched the bird’s head affectionately. “I share your affinity for animals. Though perhaps I limit myself to befriending those of a smaller scale … and with fewer heads.”

Exousia didn’t say anything, but she regarded the bird with admiration for its beautiful plumage and powerful form. Then she noticed that there was a claw missing on one of the bird’s toes. Realizing what it meant for something to have an injury in this realm where souls were mostly free from physical torment, she said, “It’s not a soul. It’s alive … from the physical realm.”

“Yes,” Gabriel replied. “I’m afraid that my place in Heaven keeps me away from Earth more than I would like. So, occasionally, I bring back friends to keep me company. Just the ones that need a helping hand, of course.”

“Is that …” Exousia said, wondering if perhaps that had been what she was supposed to see.

“No,” Gabriel said, lifting his arm so that the animal took flight. He then pointed at the crater. “That is what I wanted to show you. It used to be a mountain … the smallest peak in Heaven. May I place an image in your mind?”

Exousia thought about this a moment. She remembered that even the best of demons could not steal more than surface thoughts. Aside from that, she was confident that her abilities would allow her to keep the loyalist out of certain places. So she nodded.

Gabriel looked her in the eyes. After a moment, the world around them began to shift ever so slightly. Plants grew, died, and changed in endless cycles. The clouds streaked across the skies like shooting stars, until orange lightning erupted from it. The sun and moon rotated around the world in thousands of arcs, until Heaven’s sixth peak rose, rock by rock, from the ground and the rewinding of time stopped.

Upon the mountain was a small angel with white wings and long white hair. His clothes were torn, and the tips of his feathers were charred. He had been attacked and not long ago. But with shaky hands, the angel still managed to remove every stray weed. He then pruned the larger and more beautifully colored plants of any dead leaves or flowers.

Then, the vision began to speed up, and the garden became a bit larger. The angel planted trees in patterned colors, and then expanded the amount of tilled ground where plants were kept. Unlike the utilitarian plants more familiar to the person watching, all of these seemed to have been chosen for their beauty.

Once the garden was finished, with colors blossoming year-round from every part of it, the angel placed a flat circular stone in the center and knelt upon it. He remained there, unmoving, even as other angels began to strip away the trees and the rock. While they worked, his body became more pale and thin. His white wings became longer and more narrow. Eventually, the angel looked up and revealed a pair of black eyes over a pale face that was gaunt and ragged.

Gabriel broke the illusion so that the mountain, garden, and small angel were no longer there.

“That was a demon … before the rebellion,” Exousia replied, her chest feeling heavy but her words remaining monotone. She recognized that the vision was a poetic reimagining of whatever had happened to that angel. Doubtless, he had been dragged from his beloved mountain and forced to work in the mines.

Gabriel nodded. “It was before we stripped the mountain of the rocks that we needed to build a wall. We felt we needed to keep out the gods and make our psychologically broken Creator feel safe from their threat.” His eyes looked tired and perhaps even regretful, in the way that they wrinkled around the corners and glistened as he spoke.

Exousia kept her surprise at the loyalist’s emotions for the demon reserved.

Gabriel continued, “We could argue about whether what we Archangels did during the rebellion was right or wrong. I know your opinion, and I’m not all that sure that I disagree with it. I don’t know how much your teacher told you of my role in this … but it is sufficed to say that I watched it happen. I did not act on behalf of your people until it was too late. And my decision came at a terrible cost to those who should never have been forced to pay it. Not just that one demon you saw, but every single one.”

Exousia could not believe what she was hearing … a loyalist admitting that their place in the rebellion might not have been the right one. Sure, she’d known about Gabriel’d utilitarian approach to the rebellion, especially his insistence to the Creator that the demons not be destroyed. But, somehow, she had the feeling that his opinion of it all went far beyond just sympathy.

“I did these things because I cared about the Creator … as well as our people,” Gabriel said, bowing his head almost as if in surrender. “I tried … so hard … to save both. Likewise, you care about the demons who have adopted you among their kind. And after watching what you did for the Hydra, I have little doubt that others will come along who you will care dearly for.”

Exousia did not respond, but the contrast between his words and Kueng’s stirred in confusing contrast like two hurricanes in her mind.

Gabriel continued. “Loyalty will drive you to places you never imagined … even crushing someone who doesn’t deserve it. Like I did … to all of them … and to you.”

Exousia turned around and stared quietly at the crater. And though she tried to ignore it, she couldn’t help but wonder if she wouldn’t crush someone innocent to protect her teacher or to save the demons from destruction. She wondered what such blinding and destructive devotion could possibly feel like … or if she already felt it. Again, she turned to face Gabriel.

The Archangel was kneeling; his eyes looked lost as he also gazed into the crater. His sleeve was now wet with golden blood from where the eagle had perched. And, then something happened … that could have been a trick as easily as an illusion. For the briefest moment, Gabriel’s eyes darkened. And perhaps he merely blinked, but it seemed like maybe his eyes had actually gone entirely black.

-O-

When they arrived back at the barracks, Exousia entered while Gabriel stayed at the door. She was too stunned by everything she’d learned and all the new questions she had to even know where to begin. However, there was an added thickness to the air, an atmosphere of silence that Exousia felt somehow compelled to bend to. The Archangel regarded her for a moment without saying anything. His eyes looked tired, and the wrinkles on his dark forehead made him look like he was trying to say something but struggling with the words.

So Exousia faced him, looked him in the eyes, and just waited.

“This conflict between Heaven and Hell,” Gabriel said. “It was never supposed to involve your people.”

Exousia could only reply, “The demons are my people.”

“Of course,” Gabriel said with a tired sigh. “As a guardian, I can’t help but see you otherwise and wish that your part to play in the shaping of this world were not that of an assassin. Even if not under the circumstances of your birth, you now have more power within you than just that. Though I suppose I look for the potential in all humans to be saints … and tend to project my vision upon them.”

Exousia wasn’t sure how to respond. She only knew that she felt uncomfortable at his words. And that they were moot, at this point. She had chosen her path … the one that Kueng had set her upon. Exousia would be a weapon and save the demon people, no matter the cost. Same as Dufaii … and perhaps even as the Archangel Gabriel.

Gabriel gave a small bow and then departed, closing and locking the door behind him.

Then Exousia was alone again. She stared at her own reflection in one of the enormous mirrors that lined the walls. She felt a sense of deja-vu, but couldn’t figure out why. She looked at her human eyes with the black line through them, then lowered her head so that the shadow of her brow fell upon them. For a moment, she could pretend that her eyes were as they should have been. But when the illusion faded, they became … almost like hats. Each eye fit her perfectly well, yet they seemed to belong to someone else. Oddly, it was only the scars she felt were her own.

Exousia forced herself to turn away. There was much more to do, beginning with the newest material that had been left for her. So, she sat down and placed a hand on a burgundy colored book for which there was no visible title, only a few angelic enumerations. She opened it to the first page and was surprised to replace that it was a journal—handwritten by the guardian angel of an ancient human shaman.