Guardian: The Guardian Part 20

"I'll stop you," he surprises me by saying undauntedly. "I love you, but I'll stop you, if you dare go home now with those convicts..."

I lift my weak human hand and slap him. The slap is not as hard as I'd have wished it to be, but it has the same effect, and he stops talking, looking back at me stunned.

"We are in this together," I remind him in a firm whisper.

"Not like this," he says, shaking his head, and it is only then that I first believe that he would indeed go against me despite the thousands of years we've spent working towards this.

"We are so close," I urge him, trying to fight him as he moves to kiss me, knowing that he intends to push my consciousness away this time, and bring back Carolines.

"Not like this," he whispers sadly, his much stronger body overpowering my human one, so that he pins my hands to my side.

"Penuel, wait..."

"I love you, but I will not go against my principles for you. You have to go now, and I don't think I'm bringing you back again..."

"Penuel," I call out panicked, shaking my head to avoid his lips, but my body strength is insignificant to his.

I catch the despondent look in his eyes as he sees the shock at his betrayal in mine, right before darkness envelops me.

Chapter 25.

The next couple of days are very quiet- boring!

The entertainment committee doesn't hold a cla.s.s party this week, so I spend Friday afternoon at our house in R. It drizzles a lot, and I know we are all grateful to be working inside.

Penuel comes to help every day, even in the weekend, and as a result the works go on quite fast. We finish all the walls on Sunday afternoon, even the second layer of fire boards, apart from the bathroom walls. Those dad plans on buying tiles for early next week, and has already commissioned Penuel's help in fixing them. We also plan on replacing the front door next week, tiling the bathroom floor and gluing in the parquet flooring on all the other floors.

After clearing out the garbage from the floors, we pack it into the trailer and drive home.

"I think that boy likes you," Dad says after we drop off Penuel at the train station.

"No, he doesn't dad," I argue, blus.h.i.+ng for I know the angel can hear him as I can feel the radiating warmth that alerts me that he's nearby.

"He does like you," grandpa chips in too, nodding his head as though it is a given fact. "No boy hangs out with a girl every free time he can get and tolerates her family and their weird ways if he doesn't like the girl." I don't know what to tell them. I know for sure that Penuel does not have those feelings for me. He is doing this because he's been ordered to by Raphael. But I have no way of explaining this to my family without having to delve deeper into things even I don't understand.

"Whatever! Just you two, please promise not to act weird around him, at least not weirder than you normally do," I ask of them pensively. "Be cool like grandma," I add, and grandma smiles at me from her seat beside me.

"Cool is my middle name!" Grandpa says with a wink, and I can't help but burst out laughing.

Once home, I take a quick shower, and then lay myself on the bed with my books lying open before me.

My window is tightly shut, but I feel the warming air that signifies my bodyguard is in my room. I hear the low flutter of the wings before he lays himself besides me on my bed. I don't bother to look up.

"I am worried," he starts off. "None of them has called, and I haven't felt them in days." I continue furrowing my forehead as I try to make out the trigonometry problem before me.

"Have you?" He goes on. "Have you felt them recently?" I haven't actually, but I do not bother to answer him. The constant buzz at the back of my head is very faint, probably only channeling in Penuel.

"It's just that... it's too quiet. I worry that something is wrong," he goes on with his monologue. "We have to be prepared that something could be very wrong. We can't fight the fallen, should they attack us. I am not made for physical warfare," he goes on. "So I made the call."

Something about how he says that last part makes me listen up. What call? What now? I itch to ask him, but I do not want to break my resolve.

Oh darn it!

"What do you mean?" I finally give in to ask, and note with satisfaction that he doesn't look triumphant at having finally forced me to break my resolve and speak to him.

"I summoned the Divine Army."

"What is the Divine Army?"

"A heavenly army, soulless blood thirsty angels that are born to fight wars, and then put to death or sleep after so that they cannot spark more wars after the battles are won."

"That sounds cruel," I say cringing my nose, still bent over my math homework.

"They are warmongers. It is the only way to ensure that they don't scorch the worlds in their blood thirst."

"So why did you summon them? There is no war."

"But there is a war, Caroline. You just do not see it yet. The fallen have broken out of Tartaros, and they want retribution for the thousands of years of imprisonment that they have been through." He says this quietly, his voice steady despite the implications of his words.

"I do not feel my divine brothers anymore. Something is very wrong. Their Essence is being snuffed out. I fear they have been captured." What he says raises the hairs on the back of my neck, but its true meaning doesn't register, for I cannot imagine a beast such as Raphael being captured.

"Raphael would never let himself get captured," I speak out. "He looks like the toughest of them all."

"Yes, he probably is just as tough as Abaddon the Apollyon, if not more. But what if the fallen have summoned the Divine Army too," he says puzzled.

"Can they? I mean, they are fallen?"

"Yes they can. When they were in Tartaros, their Essence was stifled. But once outside the walls, they wield just as much power as we do. The Divine Army can follow them, just as easily as it can follow us. The Divine Army follows Archangels. So even if the army heeds my call and comes to our aid, should Raphael not be among us, but Abaddon be there, the army will fight for him."

"Abaddon is an Archangel?" I ask quietly, fear seeping into my veins.

"Yes, Archangel Abaddon, the warrior and destroyer." I shudder involuntarily at his words.

"What does that mean?"

"Let us just say that a warrior and healer is a much preferred adversary than a warrior and destroyer."

I shudder to think that there is someone out there even crueler than Raphael. Raphael who'd let my head get chopped off, even after I begged him over and over again to help me. I shake the disturbing memory away.

"So why did you summon the Divine Army?" I ask, terror laced in my words.

"Faith, that maybe Archangel Gabriel's Essence in you is strong enough to hold their allegiance until Raphael comes back to us soon," he says quietly. "Better we have them and hold them until he arrives, than Abaddon calls upon them and they pay him allegiance. It is very hard to win back the Divine Army's allegiance from another Archangel. Almost impossible."

"Where are they, this Divine Army?" I ask.

"I do not know. But they have been asleep for thousands of years, after the last war of heavenly beings. Their bodies have turned to stone, and are probably buried under the oldest of mountains somewhere on earth. It is not necessary to know where they are. If you know the words, all you have to do is say them, and they'll awaken, a.s.semble, and come find their summoner."

"It is sad to be buried for so long..."

"Do not be fooled into pitying them, Caroline. The Divine Army is a soulless unit of destroyers. They have no emotions, no conscience. They feel no guilt," he says this so quietly, that I s.h.i.+ver involuntarily. "They can harm humans, you know."

"And you can't?" He shakes his head slowly to my question. "Then why were angels hacking at me just a few nights ago? They even severed my head, and killed me!" I say angrily, losing my calm faster than I'd like.

"I wasn't there. But I think there is something different in you. I can sense it. You are not entirely human. They must have sensed it too."

"What about when your brothers threatened to harm my parents and my best friend, if I did not let my soul reconnect with my body?" I ask angrily, clutching my pencil so tight that it surprises me when it snaps broken. The angel looks at the broken pencil in my hands first, before looking slowly up into my face.

"First of all, they are not my brothers. I am not in their brotherhood. Secondly, did they do it? Harm them?" I shake my head slowly at him.

"It was just talk, you see. Threats."

"So they lied? I thought angels don't lie!"

"Did they say they would do anything to them?" He asks me, c.o.c.king his eyebrow. I take a moment to think about that dreadful night.

"They said they would use them to get me to do as told-" I say bitterly.

"And isn't that what happened? They mentioned your parents, and you did as told?" I don't answer him as bitter anger clutches at my heart again.

One day, one day I will have my revenge on these beings!

"Caroline, however much you think you hate us divine angels, we are not as bad as the fallen ones. We want humanity to exist in peace, the fallen want to destroy it. They believe we deserve to be above all creatures, and live on earth or whatever other part of the universe we want. They are jealous of the sons of men, feeling that the angels' birthright was stolen and handed to weak ungrateful mortals. You may not believe me but trust me, nothing but death and destruction follows the fallen," he says in his soft quiet voice.

"So hate me and the others all you want, but do not fight for the wrong side."

"I don't know if you've noticed angel, but I am just a weakling human," I say to him, lifting my hands in mock surrender. "I can't fight an army of angels."

"Maybe not, but you can weaken them," he says.

"What do you mean?"

"By absorbing their Essence..."

"Are you crazy? The last time I did that, I almost died, had serious internal injuries and nearly exploded from inside."

"Well either you have learnt from your experience, or something changed after you died, for I have watched you do it a number of times, and none of those things happened to you."

"What are you talking about?"

"How do you explain the morning when you flipped your beddings and tossed me off the bed? Or in R, how were you able to lift up those heavy boards by yourself without so much as a struggle; yet your father with clearly more physical strength was struggling?"

"Maybe I am just getting faster and stronger!" I say smiling.

"Then why is it that each time you do it, I feel a great wave of energy leave my body, and I weaken momentarily?"

"Really?" I ask him puzzled, and he nods at me quietly.

"We do not absorb Essence. Rather, we expel it," he begins, and I nod because someone in the brotherhood already explained that part. "You, however, you take."

"Maybe I can steal yours because you are weaker than the rest," I say, meaning to be spiteful.

"I am not weaker," he grinds out softly. "I am just strong in a different sense." I don't know why, but I believe him. He is just as strong. I feel it in the Essence he expels out, but it is a different kind of strength. An intellectual kind of strength.

"But even if you are right, I can't possible absorb enough Essence to snuff out a whole army. Last time I only absorbed from one, and it nearly killed me," I point out to him.

"That is because you did not release it. You need to take it in, and release it to something else."

"Like what?"

"Like the s.h.i.+eld around the Epitome."

"It has a s.h.i.+eld?" I ask puzzled.

"Yes."

"Then how could it be that people can easily come in and out?"

"Humans and divine angels can. The fallen can't, if the s.h.i.+eld is strong enough."

"Is it strong now?" I ask pensively. All this talk of war is scaring me, and I am hoping that there is a place to hide from it all.

"Not enough," he answers me softly. I marvel at how he never seems to get excited or emotional throughout a conversation. Talk about a robot, someone? A compa.s.sionate robot?

"The s.h.i.+eld is only as strong as the number of divine angels expelling their Essence. And right about now, I can only feel mine, yours and Araqiel's in the air. For some reason, the others have been cut out from us. So you are the only hope of reinforcing the s.h.i.+eld, for if you can absorb the fallen angel's Essence, it becomes yours, and therefore divine. You can then re-inject it into the s.h.i.+eld."

"But... Wait! How could the others have been cut out from us?" I whisper, for despite myself, I do worry for the brotherhood.

He looks down, as though avoiding to meet my eyes so that he isn't forced into voicing his fears. I do not give up so easy.

"How?" I ask again.

"Tartaros," he says, and chills race up and down my body in fear. "It is the only place they could be, that would result in their Essence been snuffed out.

"But, how?" I ask once again, puzzled and confused.

"I do not know, they could have been lured, betrayed by one they truly trusted." I think of Ariel, sweet Uriel, Raphael, Azrael, whom surprisingly I had come to care for, the odd twins, even Camael, stuck in some supernatural prison. How horrendous.