estdeus_innobis | Sink into dream; these enchanted depths / The realm of muted wisdom

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hope,
simon

Sink into dream; these enchanted depths / The realm of muted wisdom

Slowly descend; trust ignites the darkness
And bliss is this drowning moment.

Day 144, Thursday October 23rd
Earliest morning
Another place

I feel his blade sweep down and there's something there, just close enough to touch and just enough like me I reach out and... I'm in another place.

I reach up and the scar's there. Long and thin on my cheek, getting ragged as I reach the bone. Bumpy above my eye, where the blade or the horn dug into bone. It's quiet here. Green sward. A barrow mound, with a monument. Can't see what's written, here. Just a pillar in the distance. Walk towards it, and I'm there. Low mound of earth, covered in grass. Dolmen archway for an entrance, framed in unhewn stone. The monument rises behind it. Don't have the words for its form. It bears the name of everything ever loved. Ah. Know every name, there. It is a long list.

The ground slopes before the barrow entrance, and I walk down. There's a pool in a hollow before the barrow deep and dark, ringed with stones. Look down.

Reflection stares back. It's me. The hood of my robe is thrown over my brow, and I push it back. Look young. No, ageless. Slim and strong, masculine and womanly. It's almost strange, for a moment. But it is me. The shade of my wings darkens the reflection then. Look up. There's sunlight, but clouds are moving. Coming. Somewhere there is a storm. There are many deaths, and something in the thought makes me raise my gaze. Smile. "Hello, Hope," I say kindly. Lay the scythe - no, hammer - down, and walk around the pool. In the distance cities burn, but here it is quiet.

~~[Open to Hope]~~
[Closed]

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This dream's diff'rent. Fer one thing, I know it's a dream, even though it feels real, an' fer another, it's more solid in th'shape of it. There's a landscape, when before it's jus' bin light. But I know 'e's 'ere. Can feel 'im like th' beating of an' 'eart in me chest.

In this dream there ain't no Faith to put me arm round, an' I'm walkin' on two legs that are me own. 'Ad these sort of dreams before, an' I reckon Faith 'as too, but it still feels like a shock. There's dark clouds scudding across a blue sky, an' I'm walkin' round the side of a pool towards 'im.

"Hello, Hope," 'e says, as if it's normal to be talkin' to me.

"'Ello," I say, an' I feel me voice quaver. I ain't afraid. Jus' seein' 'im makes me feel like I might weep or laugh. Ain't never seen nothin' so lovely as 'im, not ever. Most beautiful face I ever saw, an' I'm not afraid of th' risin' fires in th' distance as I walk towards 'im. "Bin a while since I dreamed of you," I say, an' I want to say I missed you but I don't. Don't seem proper.

She's walking around to meet me. She is not scared. It's a lot, though, this place. "'Ello," she says. Voice quavers, a little. Lean down and kiss her forehead, smoothing her hair back. "Bin a while since I dreamed of you," she says, looking up at me. I nod. "I know. Things have been different for me, lately."

We walk a way, away from the pool. There is another dip, and we sit there on the grass. I leave the hammer where it is. It's just a symbol - not something easily lost. The important thing isn't the tool, here. It's what is represents. "I realized I couldn't hide, anymore, Hope." Not shouting my name to Heaven, but not hiding. "Thank you," I say, smiling at her.

'E kisses me fore'ead, an' I feel tears start to me eyes, though they don't fall. Breathe in the smell of 'im, though it ain't really a smell. More like I'm breathin' in the sense o' somethin' old, an' good, an' cool as spring water.

"I know. Things have been different for me, lately."

'E walks an' I follow. Marvel a bit at 'ow easy it is to walk, when I've got two legs as fit me an' only me. We sit on th' grass, an' that's easy too, no strugglin' ter sit down.

"I realized I couldn't hide, anymore, Hope." 'E smiles. Smile like th' breakin' day. "Thank you."

"Oh, I di'n't do nothin," I say, an' flush a bit. "Are you... Are things alright fer you? An' Mr Klavec?"

Don't know if it is a gift, or not. Her here without her sister. Whole and yet parted. "Oh, I di'n't do nothin," she says with a blush. "Are you... Are things alright fer you? An' Mr Klavec?"

I nod. "As alright as they can be. There's - there's no me, really. And no him. Not anymore. But it's not like I can say we, or they. It's just 'I'." Hard difficult concept to convey. Not as though there's half of one and half the other, or an alloying - something new that was there all along. There was him, and it, and now me.

"As alright as they can be. There's - there's no me, really. And no him. Not anymore. But it's not like I can say we, or they. It's just 'I'."

Oh lawks, that means - well it means Simon, 'e knows what I think, don't 'e? Cos Azrael does. Blush a bit at that, cos it's different, a man knowin' 'bout that than an angel.

"What - what should I call you, then?" I say. Look at 'im, 'is still beautiful face, an' it don't seem right to call 'im Simon. An' I don't think I could go up to Mr Klavec an' call 'im Azrael.

Thinkin' th' name sends a ripple across the water.

"Sorry," I say. "Can't 'elp thinkin' on it, sometimes. 'S a powerful name," I say. "Like the brightest star." Drop me face a bit, cos I feel a bit embarrassed. "You know," I say after a minute, "y'know I love yer, don'tcher? I don't mean badly by it. Ain't wantin' nothin' of you. Don't need nothin' but knowin' what you are."

She blushes, and I touch her light on the cheek. "What - what should I call you, then?" Think on it. "Bodies change things. Here, I am closer to what I am. There," I gesture in a curious way, meaning outside, "I am more what I once was. You call me Azrael here. And Simon there. In a way it's still right."

"Sorry," she says, as this place echoes with her thought of my name. "Can't 'elp thinkin' on it, sometimes. 'S a powerful name, like the brightest star." That image cuts. I touch the scar. Oh, morning star. It is not morning but I know here, if I looked for it, there would be only empty space. Hope looks down. "You know," she says, after a pause, y'know I love yer, don'tcher? I don't mean badly by it. Ain't wantin' nothin' of you. Don't need nothin' but knowin' what you are."

I smile again, for I am fond of Hope. "I am hardly the brightest star. You have not met my brothers." Hesitate, but of any I should be open with her. "You would not like them, perhaps. They are great and burning things, and cannot dim their own light." I lift up her chin, looking to her. "I know you love me, Hope. You aren't afraid, of what I am? Of all my brothers, I am among the least loved."

He touches my cheek. I sort of sigh at that; it's not like the shiverin' I've got when I seen a boy I liked an' talked to 'im; more like th' feelin' when you've 'ad a really lovely day an' you know it's nearly over. Sort of happy-sad all at once.

"Azrael," I say, agreein', an' fer the pleasure o'sayin' it. I say it real soft, but it still echoes out over th' lake.

"I am hardly the brightest star. You have not met my brothers.You would not like them, perhaps. They are great and burning things, and cannot dim their own light."

I try t'imagine what could be brighter'n Azrael. Think it'd burn me. Think it'd turn me to ash, somethin' like that.

"Your... your eldest brother, 'e's th'one in... You know," I say, an' flick me gaze north. Think I see fer a minute somethin' shimmerin' there like a tower, then it's gone. "What's... What's 'e like?" I say at last. "I know 'e's wicked, an' 'e wants terrible things fer us all... But is that it? Is 'e jus' evil?"

"I know you love me, Hope. You aren't afraid, of what I am? Of all my brothers, I am among the least loved."

'E lifts up me chin an' looks me in th'eye, but some'ow I don't blush none.

"No," I say. "I ain't afraid. An' if yer the least loved, why, that makes me love you more, t'make up fer the lack of it," I say, an' I dare to lift me 'and to 'is cheek. It's cool, like stone, like an autumn wind, like water runnin' over pebbles. "Don' think it's fair, always, when some folk die, an' others live longer'n they should, but I don' reckon that's your fault, like. Think you just do what's... appointed." I smile a bit. "An'... I know when me time comes, now, I won't be so afraid. Still scared o'what comes after, but... It'll be nice t'know you'll 'elp me over from 'ere to there." I smile a little more. "I trust you," I say, an' I remember a name from another dream, one that woke me wi' tears on me pillow an' me thighs damp. "Trust you, Malak al-Maut."

She sighs. "Azrael," she says then. It's a pleasure to hear that name, after all this time, and I sigh too. "Your... your eldest brother, 'e's th'one in... You know," she says, and her thought brings the Tower here, for a moment. "What's... What's 'e like? I know 'e's wicked, an' 'e wants terrible things fer us all... But is that it? Is 'e jus' evil?"

Shake my head. "It's hard to describe. My eldest brother - he is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. We all loved him, so much. He is great and terrible and awesome and beautiful." I look at her. "Understand, I want to weep when I see him. And he took all of that, took it and twisted it, tore at it, and did it all by choice." I can feel tears coming. "The best and purest thing in Creation grew jealous, grew full of despair, and befouled its very nature. It's - " I shake my head again. "He isn't just, or solely, evil. He wants to twist and destroy everything the way he has done to himself. And - I don't know if he can be stopped." Not and leave anything to be saved.

"No," she says, I ain't afraid. An' if yer the least loved, why, that makes me love you more, t'make up fer the lack of it." Lifts her hand to my cheek. "Don' think it's fair, always, when some folk die, an' others live longer'n they should, but I don' reckon that's your fault, like. Think you just do what's... appointed." Nod. "The hard-hearted angel," I whisper to her. "An'... I know when me time comes, now, I won't be so afraid. Still scared o'what comes after, but... It'll be nice t'know you'll 'elp me over from 'ere to there."

She smiles. "I trust you. Trust you, Malak al-Maut."

Is this what worship is to my Parent? This love, this trust? Kiss her lips, softly. "Then I am loved truly, Hope. When your time comes, it comes. And I will be there, for you."

I listen to what 'e says, and I see 'is eyes shimmer wi'tears. It makes me 'eart hurt, knowing 'e can cry like that, but it's comfortin' too, cos I don' reckon you can cry unless you care. Wonder if 'im in the Tower can cry. Wonder if that would mean 'e still 'ad an 'eart.

"He isn't just, or solely, evil. He wants to twist and destroy everything the way he has done to himself. And - I don't know if he can be stopped."

Me throat gets all dry at that.

"So... d'you think that's it, then? We're doomed?" I says. I 'ope not. I'm not ready fer all this t'be gone. "What 'bout your other brothers?" I says. "Won't some of 'em 'elp you?"

An' then 'e kisses me, an' I wonder if this is what it feels like t'die, cos it's like a great sweet white stillness settles on me, an' even when I close me eyes I see light.

"Then I am loved truly, Hope. When your time comes, it comes. And I will be there, for you."

Nothin' much I can say to that; ain't got the words. Jus' nod at 'is gift to me, an' feel a tear slide down me cheek.

She goes quiet. "So... d'you think that's it, then? We're doomed? What 'bout your other brothers? Won't some of 'em 'elp you?"

Shake my head. "Not doomed - I am not the Voice. Don't know what will happen. But we fought him during the Fall - and again during the Fall - and so many died. And each time the victory was also our pyre. And each time he was returned. My brothers, well. Haven't seen them since the Fall. I - we do not agree. They do not understand men, not in the way I do. They see the righteous to be saved and the wicked to be punished. But me, I take everyone, be they saint or sinner. Only except some four or five - and the Voice came for them itself." No, my brothers would be no help. "And it is not a matter of numbers. The greatest among us is as the least, to him. If the - " no, that is too much. She does not need to know about the Voice, not like this.

She sheds a tear then, and I kiss it away, and embrace her. "Oh, Hope. You are half of everything humanity needs." I pull my head back, to look at her. "If he is to be stopped, I think it will be people, not angels or gods, that do it."

'Ard to think o' Azrael bein' defeated, never mind anyone stronger'n 'im. But I've 'ad a feel for 'ow powerful th'Tower is. 'Ard not to despair in th'face o'that. Only thing that stops me is thinkin' is probably what th' Tower wants.

'E embraces me, an' I let meself be 'eld like I'm a child again.

"Is that why you ended up in Simon?" I reach up to touch th'scar - same as on Simon but diff'rent. "Was Simon jus' a normal bloke, afore?"

"Oh, Hope. You are half of everything humanity needs. If he is to be stopped, I think it will be people, not angels or gods, that do it."

Don' know what t'say to that.

"I'm jus... I ain't nothin' special," I say. Look into 'is eyes. "But if I can do anythin', I will. Cos even if I ain't so afraid to die no more, I don' want it to be yet, not for me or my friends. Least not because of 'im." I lean against Azrael; sort o'like lyin' against a cool stone or an 'illside. Strong an' old, old, old. "Th'Voice," I say. "Do you.. D'you ever 'ear from it, now?"

"Is that why you ended up in Simon?" Her hand traces the scar up to my eye. "Was Simon jus' a normal bloke, afore?" This is another difficult one. "He was, in his way, very normal. And he was the closest thing to what I am, to what I was, when this happened." Speaking now as I said, in this body. Still Simon, really. Also Azrael. I draw my finger down my scar. Closest in time, closest in space. Closest in spirit. "Now, I do not know. This thing that has happened, it is not something that happens." I smile briefly. "Many things are hard for me to explain properly."

She looks up into my eyes. "I'm jus... I ain't nothin' special," she says, and I laugh, because she is. "But if I can do anythin', I will. Cos even if I ain't so afraid to die no more, I don' want it to be yet, not for me or my friends. Least not because of 'im." She leans into me. "That's all that is asked, Hope. That we try, that we strive." Stroke her hair as she leans into me. "Th'Voice," she asks hesitantly, "Do you.. D'you ever 'ear from it, now?"

Hope this will not worry her. "Will have heard the Voice only twice, me. Once when I was charged with my duty. And once when everything ends. They angels have no free will, for it commands our will. But I do not know what will come." I look down at her, resting in the curve of my arm. "So my will is as free as yours, in its way." Mostly.

"He was, in his way, very normal. And he was the closest thing to what I am, to what I was, when this happened."

Wonder at that, puzzlin' over it. Both normal an' like an angel? Dunno 'ow that works. "Now, I do not know. This thing that has happened, it is not something that happens.Many things are hard for me to explain properly."

I touch 'is 'and, cos I don't want 'im to feel bad if 'e can't explain.

"If it ain't ever 'appened before, I guess there ain't words fer it," I say.

I ask 'bout the Voice. Wonder if it's like the God Dad used to tell us about, bit of an old granpa in the sky. Prob'ly not. Sounds... more distant than that.

"Will have heard the Voice only twice, me. Once when I was charged with my duty. And once when everything ends. They angels have no free will, for it commands our will. But I do not know what will come. So my will is as free as yours, in its way."

Try t'get my brain round that, Azrael bein' subject t'someone else. Seems strange. Lots o'questions I could ask now, an' if I were more crafty or such I'd think o'somethin' smart t'say, but instead I look at 'is calm sad face an' ask:

"D'you feel lonely, then?"

Doesn't really understand it all. But it's no easy thing for me, either. Wish sometimes I had the purity of purpose that drives some of my brothers. "If it ain't ever 'appened before, I guess there ain't words fer it," she settles. Know there's a lot she'd want to ask. Could give some answers, but she just looks up at me and asks "D'you feel lonely, then?"

I hesitate. Don't want to burden her, but I can think of few that I can share things with as with Hope. I press my face to her hair, for a moment, then pull back to look at her. "Yes, Hope. Been good at ignoring it, but yes. Humans rarely welcome me. And I haven't known my brothers in a century. Before then, well. I did not fit with them so well. My brothers, many of them are concerned with how people measure. But to me, well. After death all are equal." But there is Hope, now. A few others too, who know me and are not afraid.

"Yes, Hope. Been good at ignoring it, but yes. Humans rarely welcome me. And I haven't known my brothers in a century. Before then, well. I did not fit with them so well. My brothers, many of them are concerned with how people measure. But to me, well. After death all are equal."

Can feel th'sadness in 'im. Ages old, like a weight against me chest, and 'e puts 'is face against my 'air like I can comfort 'im. Feel a sort o'joy at that, despite 'is sadness. Wonder if that makes me selfish.

"Seems 'ard," I say, "fer you t'ave bin given a job as will keep you apart from people, make 'em fear you." Feel a bit cross at th'Voice at that. Don' seem fair, for Azrael t've been given a job as will keep 'im lonely. Curl against 'im, an' I wonder a bit about whether it'll be this safe in the grave. Maybe if people knew it they wouldn't be so afraid. "Do you know what 'appens to people, once you've done yer job, like?" I ask. Wonder if 'eaven an' 'ell are real.

Feel her sadness for me, and her pleasure. Makes me smile. "Seems 'ard," she says, "fer you t'ave bin given a job as will keep you apart from people, make 'em fear you." Shake my head a little. "To be true, many of my brothers do not care if humans love them. The love of their brothers and the light of Heaven are enough for them. But what would I in Heaven? My duties are here."

She curls closer to me. "Do you know what 'appens to people, once you've done yer job, like?" Shake my head. "I gather them, grant them peace and safety. But where they go after that? I do not think angels go there. I think the Voice set aside a place of rest for his favourite children, where they go after death. But I do not know." This is part, I think, of what angered my Eldest brother.

"To be true, many of my brothers do not care if humans love them. The love of their brothers and the light of Heaven are enough for them. But what would I in Heaven? My duties are here."

Feel sad for 'im when 'e says that. 'E don't fit in nowhere, really. 'Is work is important, but 'e don't really fit with 'is brothers nor with th' people 'e was made t'serve. Wonder what'll 'appen to 'im when everyone's gone, 'is job done? Will 'e go to 'eaven?

"I gather them, grant them peace and safety. But where they go after that? I do not think angels go there. I think the Voice set aside a place of rest for his favourite children, where they go after death. But I do not know."

Reach up an' touch 'is cheek.

"'m sorry. Strange idea t'me, that th' Voice could prefer us to you," I says, cos 'umans, well, folk're all kinds of inter'stin', but they ain't radiant like Azrael. "Will you speak to - your brother?" I say, not wantin' to say 'is name. Think 'e might even be able to 'ear it in dreams.

She reaches up again, strokes my cheek. "'m sorry. Strange idea t'me, that th' Voice could prefer us to you," she says. Suppose it could seem that way. Hard to remember what it was like, before my duty, before Simon, when I was alike to my brothers. "Will you speak to - your brother?"

Sigh. I nod. "I should. Can't think of anything to say to him, though. Nothing that hasn't been said before." I curve a wing around her, following the curve of my arm around her. "I still love my brother. But he - he is blasphemous. In the purest, most original way. How do you deal with someone like that?"

This is a question for humans, for we certainly have no good answer to it.

"I should. Can't think of anything to say to him, though. Nothing that hasn't been said before."

"Be careful," I say. Don' think I know the 'alf of what 'im in the tower can do, an' what I do know scares me. I wrinkle me forehead. "If you died... What'd 'appen to everyone else? When they died?" Question jus' comes out, an' I cover me mouth, wonderin' if it's alright to ask somethin' like that.

"I still love my brother. But he - he is blasphemous. In the purest, most original way. How do you deal with someone like that?"

"I dunno," I say, fore'ad furrowin'. "'E don' want yer love, I s'pose." Can't imagine that, neither. "Wonder if 'e could ever go back t'bein' 'ow 'e was afore all this." Remember when all th'cards turned to th'Tower, an' shiver. Wonder if there's any goin' back from that.

"Be careful," she says with fear in her voice. "If you died... What'd 'appen to everyone else? When they died?" I shake my head. "I do not know. Angels have died, but not all touch the world in the same way. Think maybe people would still die, but it would not bring them peace." But given my final duty, I am not sure I can die, not like I have seen my brothers go.

She wrinkles her forehead, thinking on my question. "I dunno," she says. "'E don' want yer love, I s'pose. Wonder if 'e could ever go back t'bein' 'ow 'e was afore all this."

Never thought on that, not really. The idea of him wanting it seems absurd. But the hope of it, there... I smile. "You are well named, Hope." Lay back and spread out my arms and wings, looking up into the sky. The storm clouds are still gathering close. But there's still light, and the rain hasn't come.

"I do not know. Angels have died, but not all touch the world in the same way. Think maybe people would still die, but it would not bring them peace."

I shiver at that. Lawks, they might all be lost, all 'em souls, wi' no one to guide 'em 'ome... Realise I've sorta snuggled 'gainst Azrael again at th'thought o'that. Don' want 'im to be lost to us.

But what I say 'bout 'is brother seems to make 'im smile at least. Unfurls 'is wings an' lays back on th' grass, lookin' at the sky. I lie back with 'im an' look up. Clouds are movin' fast, but the sky's still bright.

"Hope 'n Faith. That's what me mum called us. Knew she was goin' t'die, I think, after we was born. Doc 'ad to cut 'er open to get us out, an' th'wound got infected after. But she loved us even though we 'urt 'er, Dad said, an' I believe 'im. An' that's why I can love you, even wi' your job. An' why you can love yer brother." Turn onto me side. "Even if one day yer goin' to take 'im 'ome, too." S'pose if everythin's goin' t'end, even the devil'll feel the scythe.

Lean in a bit boldly an' kiss 'im on the lips. Would be lyin' if I said it were jus' friendly, but it ain't like I expect anythin'. It's cos I can't think of anythin' else I can give 'im, so let that be my offerin'.

She shivers and leans closer. Lays back with me and follows my gaze up. "Hope 'n Faith. That's what me mum called us. Knew she was goin' t'die, I think, after we was born. Doc 'ad to cut 'er open to get us out, an' th'wound got infected after. But she loved us even though we 'urt 'er, Dad said, an' I believe 'im. An' that's why I can love you, even wi' your job. An' why you can love yer brother." She turns and looks at me. "Even if one day yer goin' to take 'im 'ome, too."

I wonder at that. I come for all things. Never really thought on what it would be like, coming for my brothers. For him. I glance to where the pillar stands. Wonder if his name would show, there, if any could truly know him and love him still.

Hope bends to me and kisses me. I lay my hand on her cheek. "You don't have to give me anything, Hope. Not if you don't want. I am nothing to be worshipped - just a servant, a messenger."

Smile a bit at 'im.

"'Ad to do a lot o'things I di'n't want to," I say. "Part of bein' 'uman, I s'pose. But I ain't ever given my 'eart if I ain't wanted to." I lean on me elbow. "I'll try not t'worship you. Might be difficult," I admit, "cos you - are like nothin' I ever saw. An' you 'ave such grace." I smile again. "But if you don't want a worshipper, I'll be yer friend, an' gladly."

Hope smiles at me. "'Ad to do a lot o'things I di'n't want to," she says. "Part of bein' 'uman, I s'pose. But I ain't ever given my 'eart if I ain't wanted to." She props herself up on her elbow and looks down at me. "I'll try not t'worship you. Might be difficult, cos you - are like nothin' I ever saw. An' you 'ave such grace." Lips quirk at me. "But if you don't want a worshipper, I'll be yer friend, an' gladly."

Smile. Can do without the temptation of worship. Humans should not worship me. Sit up a bit and kiss her back. She tastes like sweet roses.

'E kisses me, an' not like before, cool firm lips like a blessin'. This is softer, like - a flower openin' or wind in th' trees. Ain't a good description, really, but it ain't like kissin' a person, though I can feel 'is mouth. 'E don' taste like a man, but it's beautiful. Can't do nothin' but open to that. Feel like I'm fallin' into 'im, lips parted, fallin' against 'is body which ain't like a woman's or a man's but ain't inbetween, neither - jus' somethin' other and always.

Don' know if I could ever feel more joy than in this moment, an' if I never do I think this'd carry me always.

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Sink into dream; these enchanted depths / The realm of muted wisdom

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