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THE MORNING’S FIFTH hour chimed. The palest blue crept in through Jediah’s window, but it escalated his distress. No longer did he hope for Laszio, Eran and Nechum’s arrival. He expected a ransom. His unblinking eyes stayed glued to the digital clock. He desperately prayed for the next seconds to tick faster. Each was another inch closer to the humans’ normal daytime hours. He’d scour the entire city on foot as a human if he had to.
“Captain! Captain!”
Jediah’s hand snapped to his sword.
Akela ran in. His whole being vibrated. “Come quick!”
Jediah dared to hope. “What is it?” he asked.
“Our brothers,” Akela panted. “They’re back.” He sped right back down the hall to the living room.
A rush of relief washed Jediah’s spirit. “Thank you, Father God.” He dashed for the hall but stopped at the doorframe. In the corner of his eye, Chloe’s second letter and braid laid abandoned on the dresser. He had avoided looking at them all night, and now his better judgment chastised him for not destroying them.
“Captain?” Akela called.
Unwilling to leave them lying around, Jediah collected braid and letter into his pocket. He dashed down the hallway and entered a living room dressed in the fledgling dawn’s dreary grey.
Jediah’s breath caught. Their moans were ragged. Half their feathers were missing, and the exposed sections of their uniforms were soaked in their own energy. Eran was lying on the softer rug. Alameth lingered close to him as he raised and lowered his legs, as if trying to mitigate pain to other areas. Nechum and Akela supported Laszio as he limped to reach the couch. His scraped face looked as though shredded with a board of nails.
They turned Laszio around to lay him on his side, but when Laszio couldn’t bend his knees, Akela crouched and lifted Laszio’s feet by the ankles. Laszio’s good eye widened. “Wait,” he mumbled. “Message.” He pointed at Jediah and repeated the same word over and over. Each mutter dwindled quieter than the last.
Nechum rushed hushed words to calm him. He turned to Jediah after laying Laszio onto the cushions. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “It took all the water I could spare just to resuscitate him.”
“Captain!” Laszio’s head lolled as if raising his voice took considerable effort.
A groggy Eran threw a hand up to grip the couch’s side and hoisted himself up. Alameth cautiously tried to support him but recoiled when Eran hissed through his teeth.
Unable to stay professional anymore, Jediah rushed over and dropped to his knees to take both their hands. “Right here, Privates. I’m right here. What happened?”
Laszio’s eyes darted to Nechum. “Message,” he repeated.
“First, tell me what happened,” Jediah commanded. “Who did this to you? Yakum?”
Eran shook his head. His fingers squeezed. “Yakum... and Elazar... know you’re here.”
Jediah’s world broke like thin glass. He went numb. His grip failed, and as their hands slipped from his, he rose to his feet and backed away. Those marks they bore weren’t random anymore—the scars no longer haphazard. They were a clear and violent message from a violent heart. Elazar’s wrath had spilled over to those near him and would continue until they settled their personal war.
Nechum knelt and tended to Laszio’s slashed hand. “I’m sorry, Captain,” Nechum’s voice shuddered. “We split up our search in the Forbidden City. I shouldn’t have lingered outside the place for so long. I should have gotten there sooner.”
Eran took his shoulder. His chest heaved. “Not... your fault.”
Clenching his fist and holding strict posture, Jediah steeled himself for the worst and asked, “What are their terms?”
The dead silence weighed so thick it could crush stone. Nechum released Laszio’s hand. He stood up, and the calming nature in his tender eyes was consumed by bitter sorrow. “You,” he replied. “Yakum infects the city with his plague or he has you.”
Akela squeezed his eyes shut. Laszio and Eran bowed their heads and hid their faces. Not even Alameth’s controlled breaths could hide his despair completely.
Jediah’s energy flowed cold. “I thought so.” He stared out at the growing light. “How long do I have?”
“Daybreak.” Laszio slurred. “at the train station.”
Jediah dipped his chin. “An hour... That’s it then.”
“No!” Akela objected. “There’s got to be another way. Something we could do. Eran?”
Eran wouldn’t look at him. He wouldn’t look at anyone. “Captain,” he said. “Laszio and I have a confession.” His wings propped him up higher. “We... We tried to take on Elazar ourselves. That’s how he caught us.”
Jediah’s neck heated, and a surge of anger changed his tone. “What?” Both Privates locked their jaws as Jediah raised his voice. “How? Why? Why would you do something so stupid?”
Laszio raised his neck. He winced as he said, “He—threatens you.”
Both their eyes pleaded with Jediah, begging for forgiveness. Jediah’s arms shook. “I expected far better judgment from you both. Do you have any idea—” He stopped the rebuke short. He knew he ought to rail them for such a costly mistake, but once he came to it, he lacked the will to. In as pitiful a state as they were, it seemed far less compared to how they agonized beneath the surface. They did what they did out of love for him.
Jediah released a breath. “What did I do to deserve such reckless loyalty?” he asked.
The corners of their lips lifted an inch.
Nechum touched Jediah’s shoulder, but the way he did so made Jediah take pause. The fingers were tense and almost dug in.
Jediah faced him.
Nechum let go and peered close. “Captain?”
Jediah swallowed hard. He could imagine Nechum’s empathic sense diving deep into him, and for the first time, he felt like he was the demon wishing for escape.
Nechum’s eyes dipped down. They danced as though calculating. Then they froze. He stared at Jediah again, as though expecting an explanation.
“What?” Akela asked with a tremor. “Nechum, what’s wrong?”
A tingling chill rippled through Jediah’s being. By the realization in Nechum’s eyes, he knew he had him figured out.
Nechum’s mouth dropped open. “Did you know Elazar?” he asked.
Jediah found his tongue too stiff to speak, but his silence confirmed Nechum’s question well enough. Ready to fall apart, Jediah steadied himself against the nearby counter and rubbed his forehead.
“You knew him, didn’t you,” Nechum said, his gaze unwavering.
Jediah rubbed his eyes but nodded ‘yes’.
Akela’s head twisted right and left as though unsure how to handle this. Stopping himself, he bent his neck low. His front curls hit his eyebrows. “Captain?” he said. “Does this also relate to that letter you had me deliver too?”
Lord God help me, Jediah prayed.
Now they were all staring at him, perplexed and troubled.
Jediah considered whether to sit. The few precious seconds he had weren’t enough to properly select his coming words, but he delayed long enough. He owed it to them. “Elazar didn’t leave with Lucifer,” he began. “He left because of me.”
Jediah cleared his throat. “It was after our victory in the Scorpion Wars. Human society was in its infancy then, and our Lord appointed me the Abyss’s keeper.” He grimaced. “I remember how impulsive I was. I’m ashamed to say that my wanton desire for justice went unchecked, but I just... I just couldn’t stand it. Demons not only betrayed our King. They exploited and hurt the Bearers of His Image. I couldn’t... I couldn’t leave the judgment seat to God. And Elazar was there beside me through it all.”
A wistful smile crossed Jediah’s face. The former Elazar regained shape and form in his memory as he spoke. “He was one of the most trusting angels I ever met. He burst with confidence, and though he was a ministry angel, he had a gift for strategy and thirsted for justice just as much as I did.” Jediah released a mournful sigh. “He put so much faith in me. He never doubted our ability to serve God.” His face fell further. “That’s what led to our downfalls.”
Jediah rubbed his dried mouth. “Before the Great Flood, Elazar approached me. He spoke of a new technique he discovered. One so absolute, we couldn’t possibly fail, but once he described it to me, I had yet never imagined such a dishonorable and gruesome tactic.”
Laszio healed enough to sit up to listen closer.
“Elazar suggested we drink the energy of our fallen foes and double our power,” Jediah continued.
Nechum covered his mouth before he could gag. Alameth pulled his hood lower, keeping his reaction well out of view, and the others stared at each other with wide, unbelieving eyes before returning to Jediah.
Jediah clenched his hands together. “Yes. Yes. I know and don’t think that I ever considered such wicked practice for a second. I insisted I wanted no part in it, but Elazar persisted. He goaded me again and again, claiming it to be for the greater good, until one day, I couldn’t take it anymore.”
Jediah’s shoulders rolled forward. His chest throbbed. His chin quivered, and by then, he knew he reached the point of no return. One more word, and the dam would break. “We argued,” he shuddered. It hurt worse to say it aloud. “We argued... I don’t remember what all I said... I don’t even remember how loud or rough my tone was, but I know I’d rather have had my tongue cut out than to repeat it... My fury blinded me and...”
Jediah covered his mouth. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes. “I struck him... I struck him, like he was the Devil himself... and the next thing I knew... he was gone.” Jediah’s weakened knees caved. He sat on the nearby footstool. “Gone.”
Doubled over, Jediah’s shoulders shook unbidden, and his throat burned from caging the sobs. “In my relentless pursuit of what’s right... I committed a greater wrong.” He paused. “I killed him... I killed him.” Without thinking, Jediah slammed his wings into the carpet. Light flashed, then faded into glittering wisps of smoke.
A hand rested on his shoulder. Nechum spoke, quiet and sincere. “And you’ve been living with that guilt ever since.”
Jediah couldn’t bear to talk anymore. He wiped off the streams tracking his face.
“Is that why you asked me those questions? About human salvation?” Nechum asked.
Jediah nodded.
“You wish you could be redeemed.”
Jediah nodded again. “I just can’t imagine... how wonderful that must be... I hoped if I could just understand what it was like... what it truly meant... But that wasn’t the only reason I asked you those questions.” From his pocket, he showed the second letter and the braid. “I just now decided not to send this, but Akela helped me deliver one already.”
Nechum opened it and read the text aloud. Jediah flinched at every spoken syllable, but knew it was best they all heard it. Everything. As soon as silence returned, part of Jediah feared looking up, but as soon as he found the courage, he raised his head. To his relief, not so much as a cocked eyebrow or a crossed arm met his sight. Rather, they looked at him as if they saw the real him for the first time.
“Captain,” Nechum offered. “I don’t think less of you for any of this.” He handed the letter back, lock of hair and all.
“None of us do.” Akela smiled, though his eyes were equal parts hopeful and sad. “God meant what you’re going through for a reason. I don’t know for what reason, but there’s a reason.”
Somewhat encouraged, Jediah got himself to stand. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “To all of you for everything. If not for all that I have done, this whole mess could have been avoided.”
“Not all of it,” Laszio interjected. “This ransom. It happened thanks to us and our idiocy.”
Eran said nothing, but nodded in agreement. Wobbling yet able, they both got on their feet.
Jediah shook his head. “What’s happened, happened. There’s nothing we can do to change it now.” He folded his wings around himself, each quill clinked against the other as they hardened one at a time.
“Then sir,” Eran slowed to say. “... What will we do?”
Jediah stared outside. Golden light peaked. “I’m out of time.” he said. “We give them what they want.”
Loud ‘nos,’ silent objections, and all the strings of suggested options didn’t sway him. “Listen, brothers,” he began. “I’ve spent lifetimes tormenting myself for my mistakes and wishing for something I can’t have. If offering myself is what ends Elazar’s rampage, then so be it. I may never experience redemption. But perhaps by reaping my consequences, I will find redemption somehow and finally put the past behind me.” He turned to Eran and Laszio. “If they take my wings, I’m counting on you both to defend the Abyss without me.”
Both Privates paled but responded by planting their hands over their chests. “Yes, sir.”
Lending a small smile for their comfort, Jediah faced the door. The words of King Solomon came to mind. “Whatever is has already been,” he recited. “and what will be has been before; and God will call the past into account.” Jediah’s energy shifted, and he phased through the door.