The Ascent of the Angelic

Rhys found himself sitting at one of many picnic tables scattered around the encampment, watching and waiting. Mehira had taken to speaking to some of the unfortunate folk. While she wasn't apparently experienced in calming the masses, she tried her best, and the crowd seemed to find comfort in her words. Rhys had managed to snag a meager helping of rations for himself. It wasn't much, but getting food at all for free was a blessing all on its own. Of course it was being handed out by some less than savory military types, but Rhys got through it.

Midway through eating his meager helping of soup, his bandages became intensely itchy. Unbearably so. Quickly, Rhys undid a bandage on one of his arms and peered at the wound underneath. The wound underneath? There was supposed to be intense burns there, weren't there? He peeled off more of the gauze, finding nothing but smooth, clean flesh. Admittedly it felt odd to the touch, perhaps a little too smooth, but it was indeed his own body.

Just as Rhys was going to return to Mehira with ecstatic joy, a familiar face sat down in front of him.

"Are you going to eat that?" the female figure asked.

"No, I planned to throw it away with my home, Christina," Rhys replied, still feeling up his arm.

"Suit yourself." Christina reached out to grab at his bowl.

"Don't."

"I already told you that sarcasm isn't funny in times like this," she said with a smile. While Christina was only one year Rhys' junior, she still had that annoying wit about her. "So who's the girlfriend?" she asked, tilting her head and letting her brown hair fall to the wayside.

"Girlfriend?" Rhys asked.

"Your guardian angel there is awfully attached to you."

"And how would you know that?"

"It's not every day that someone walks about town, arm in arm with them. Word gets around quick."

"It's not every day someone helps to slay a sinned either, is it?"

The woman downed a spoonful of soup. "Sinned? They must be rubbing off on you. Nobody says sinned other than our saviors."

"Wouldn't that be the proper term?" Rhys pulled his bowl close and drank some of it. "It only makes sense."

"You care about the proper term for the things that plan to kill you? I see now why you're with an angel, a stickler for the proper, huh?"

"Whatever, it makes sense to me."

"So, you plan to have children with it too?"

Rhys narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "Do you people only have children making on the mind? Edwin was pestering me the same way."

"Look around, Rhys, what else is there to do in our trying times? It's certainly not to have entertainment or enjoy ourselves. Well... You know, aside from that."

"I don't even want to entertain the thought of doing something like that with one of our saviors. I highly doubt they'd even entertain it themselves." Rhys nodded but he was all too curious now if angels had a libido, or genitalia for that matter. He stole a quick glance at Mehira when Christina wasn't looking. She had all the outward appearances of the female form, albeit shielded away from prying eyes. Who was to say she didn't have some way to give herself unto others?

Christina shrugged. "Say what you will, but I'd certainly 'entertain' a night with some of the guardians I've had the pleasure of seeing. They're all about serving, are they not?"

"Spiritually, Christina. Spiritually." Rhys shook his head and downed the last of his soup. "Keep saying things like that and you'll be on the next on a demon's platter."

"If that were the case I'd already be dead. I must have some favoritism among the heavens, hm?"

Sure, that's precisely why you have no husband too, Rhys thought.

"Do let me know how that angelic romance goes, I have to get a good cot before the rest are taken," Christina said. She picked up her bowl and stood up. "Rubber protection might be rare nowadays, but you better be safe with her. No idea what she carries from up above." Christina winked, then giggled as she walked off with a wave.

"Goodbye to you too," Rhys said, shaking his head. He had been so distracted by the conversation that he had forgotten all about the miraculous healing before his very eyes. His skin was immaculate and so was the gauze used to round it up. He had expected some bits of skin stuck to it, though instead it had seemed like it was never used. He stuffed it into a pocket for later trading, could fetch a good meal or two. Rhys turned his attention back to Mehira. The crowd around her had frittered away into a few persons. The rest watched on from a distance, no doubt intimidated by the fact that a warrior from the heavens stood in front of them.

A twinge of jealousy hit Rhys.

_

"And you plan to spend the twilight and darkness here?" Mehira asked, gesturing to the cot Rhys had placed under a particularly large tree.

"I figured it would be best. Away from the masses. Peace of mind and all."

"Surely you are aware of the safety in numbers that the collective brings?"

Rhys nodded. "However, I'm more than sure you will keep us safe." While the others might have described them as cots, they were more akin to fluffy potato sacks, stuffed with whatever old fluffing they tore out of other places. Still, it beat out damp grass or plain dirt. Rhys settled in next to the cot, resting up against the trunk of the tree. "And besides, I've already dealt with one sinned, haven't I?"

Mehira nodded in response, then walked over to his side, turning to look out at the fields with him. "Who was that female you were speaking with? The nubile soul with dark hair."

Rhys nearly burst out laughing at the thought of anyone calling Christina nubile.

"Christina. A bit of a town nuisance and a master of trading nonsense for other nonsense until she gets what she wants," Rhys replied. That was as generous and diplomatic as he could put it, anyways.

"I suspect based on your colorful wording that she is not your bride to be?"

Rhys shook his head. "No. She might be cute but far from marriage material."

"Then"--Mehira sat down--"what do you consider to be proper qualifications?"

"I'm not sure." Rhys in truth had never really thought about it. For some reason he had always figured any relationship he would have would be one out of necessity, not love. "I suppose that they enjoy my presence." He shrugged.

"That is awfully vague for the eternal bond of life laid out before you." Mehira extended out her arm, presenting the scenery in front of them. "I find it terribly concerning."

Rhys deflated. "Must I? Everyone seems to expect it from me, but what point is there?" He crossed his arms. "I'm sure you know how many people died today."

"Yes. Yes I do. I have been praying for them nearly every moment I draw breath."

"Next time that could be me, or a friend, or someone closer." Or her. He looked up at Mehira. "Don't mistake this as me doubting your mission, but I may not ever see its end. I would only bring turmoil by building a relationship. I can't live like that."

"I understand the pain that might bring."

"Are you certain? Now that we know there is a glorious kingdom up there, I'm sure all you have to do is go back and wait for your loved ones." He stared back out at the fields. "Meanwhile I'm stuck in agony, waiting to meet them again."

Mehira gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "That is not true, Rhys. I cannot simply go and see whichever soul I love."

Rhys snapped back to her. "What? Why not?"

"No one ascends to heavenly kingdom until the Lord brings upon the end of this mortal world. Until then, their souls are claimed by limbo, waiting for their ultimate judgment." Mehira shook her head. "Perhaps a complex and dreary weaving of words, I apologize."

"I'm not sure how to feel about that," Rhys said, rubbing his forehead. "I always figured that... all those I loved were only a mere trip away and this life was a long waiting game." He placed his hand on Mehira's and sighed.

"It is why you must take care of your brief time. Enjoy that you are alive, despite the storm of sin that lingers outside." Her grip tightened. "I implore you."

"Still, I mean, you could simply wait for them, could you not?"

"I could, yet the thought strikes at my very soul. Would you want to wait hundreds of thousands of years for the ones you love, Rhys? Would that not rend your heart asunder?"

"No offense to you, Mehira, but I'm certain you've already experienced that many years. I imagine they've gone by quickly, haven't they?"

Mehira let out a low chuckle. The air rang through her helmet. "You believe I am far beyond any age you can hope to achieve?"

Rhys furrowed his brow. "I had always figured that you were all, you know, created very long ago to watch over us." He shrugged. "It made sense to me."

"I have heard through hushed and scattered speech that it is rude to ask a woman her age. All I will say is that I am no older than you are, Rhys," she said, giggling. "While it is true many of us were present for the birth of the world and humans, a large amount of us are a new generation."

Rhys paused. The eternally wise guardian was now stripped bare. Only another young soul trying to traverse the world. It made him feel all the worse that she was here instead of enjoying herself up above in the literal promised paradise.

"You were made for war, then?" Rhys asked.

"I suppose in some way, yes, we are created for cleansing the Earth and nourishing its people."

"I would have just sent the older angels instead." Though naturally he wouldn't have been able to meet Mehira if that were the case. "If you were not at war, what would you prefer to do?"

"I do not believe I have ever heard such an inquiry."

"Sorry."

"No need to apologize for your words. It is a good question and one I have not yet put through my mind." She tapped on her leg. "I believe playing the part of a seamstress always appeared as a unique and fulfilling occupation."

Rhys tilted his head. "As in, a dress maker?" She almost looked like she was wearing a sort of armored dress.

"What better way to show the world what you are by the expression of your clothing?"

"I hope then you don't think little of my fashion sense," Rhys replied, tugging on a worn t-shirt.

"Considering the state of the world, I doubt you have much choice in expression of the soul."

Rhys stretched and yawned. "Whenever you are free from duty, I'll try and find you something to work with. It'll be fun."

"For now, rest. Good night." Rhys was going to object, but it had been more than a long enough day. He nodded and retreated to his cot. "You will be safe. I will see to it." With that, she spread her wings and flew off. Her golden wings glimmered in the last of the day's flittering light.

Rhys hoped tomorrow would be another slow day and that Mehira would be right back next to him. He closed his eyes and sighed. Maybe an angelic partner wouldn't be too sinful. Christina was right about some things, hm?

Rhys awoke slowly, barely managing to lift his eyes from the comforting grasp of sleep. The intense light casting on his face was enough to finally rip him free of slumber, and he sat up with a groan. The rustle of trees overhead signified a cool breeze that soon washed over him. Rhys was confused by the outdoor scenery for a moment, but then quickly remembered the state of his home and what had transpired yesterday.

Standing up, Rhys folded up his sack and looked out over at the camp. As Rhys expected, there was a small crowd gawking at Mehira, though she wasn't alone. From a distance, Rhys could make out the familiar figures. Two smaller ones standing guard behind the massive knightly creature. Mehira's spear was by her side, glinting in the light, only worrying Rhys. He quickly rushed down over, easing up onto the side of the crowd. It was hard to make out through the muttering and the lack of lips either angelic beings had, but they were most certainly having a conversation of some sort. Not one Mehira appeared to be comfortable with either.

Curiosity and worry took over Rhys' thoughts. He tossed his cot onto a nearby table and moved over to Mehira's side, much to the surprise and bemusement of the crowd. Mehira acknowledged him with a nod, tightening her grip around her spear in the process.

"It has been decided," Prosa said simply. "Seek your new pilgrimage to the center." His halos spun, then he turned his head to face Rhys. Near instantly upon doing so, the cherubim at his side hit their pole arm's upon the ground. Prosa's head snapped ahead once more. For the split second Prosa stared at Rhys, he felt as though he were entirely naked and vulnerable.

"I do not understand the alteration of my journey. Only the authorities such as yourself contain the strength vested in you to venture into such dens of sin. In groups at that."

The spinning came to a halt, then resumed. "That has changed," Prosa said. "These are the directions you must take on this physical plane."

Rhys wanted to interject. Question why Mehira of all people had to go alone, but somehow it felt as though he were way in over his head dabbling in things he shouldn't. He did that before, didn't he? What did he have to lose now?

"Pardon me," Rhys said. Nobody denied him, so he continued. "May I ask why Mehira has to venture into one of the centers? Isn't that wildly dangerous?" One of those towering metal spires was barely visible over the treeline.

"Dear protected," Prosa started, "you do not need to concern yourself with the motion of events, only that they will happen. Mehira will depart with no angelic assistance." The halo full of eyes came to a stop. All of the tiny irises focused on Rhys. "So I am told."

"Then it shall be," Mehira said, holding a hand out in front of Rhys. "I will depart once I am certain this area is clear."

Some hushed mumbling arose from the crowd. Mehira bowed, while Prosa gave a nod. He departed quietly, yet all his eyes still pierced Rhys as he left.

Rhys shook his head and turned to Mehira. "You're not really going out there alone, are you?"

"And why not?" Mehira asked, still staring at the departing armored guardian. "I trust there will be a valid reason for the order that will present itself." She paused and looked back at the crowd. "This will mark a return to normalcy. Rejoice!" She raised her spear and spread her wings. While there was some amused rumblings from the crowd, a few fists in the air, they weren't entirely convinced of the idea. Mehira's enthusiastic spread lessened and she eased back down.

The group of people slowly dispersed. Christina was somewhere in that mess, waving off Rhys and mouthing 'good luck'. Feh.

"I do not suppose you would care to join me on my last sweep of the area?" Mehira asked.

"I would be glad, but you speak as though you won't be coming back," Rhys said.

Mehira lowered her gaze. "It seems that way does it not?" She placed a hand over her chest. "I do not believe it is a dangerous task, but I would be the first of the lesser protectors to enter a center for quite some time."

Rhys mindlessly grabbed at her hand and said, "But how can they force you to go alone?" Mehira's hand was warm to the touch, and smooth. She gently squeezed his hand before he slipped away out of embarrassment.

"We all go with God, do we not?"

Rhys nodded. "While true, I... I don't quite feel comfortable with that."

"Come, we may speak on our check of the area."

"Lead the way then."

_

Mehira marched forward through the edge of the town with her spear at the ready. It felt leagues different from the more relaxed posture she usually took, but at the same time there was a certain air of power that made him feel all the more protected. He almost wanted to compete with that, try and become the bigger protector, as impossible as that was. He had already left his sword at home -- fists wouldn't exactly help, would they?

"You seem concerned about something," Mehira said. "What troubles you? Not the trip, I pray."

"No, no, something ridiculous." He balled his hands into fists. "What do you plan to do once you reach the center?"

"I do not know."

"They're sending you to a pit of death and you don't know why?"

Mehira relaxed and giggled. "You seem awfully concerned about my well-being. I do hope you believe me to be capable enough to vanquish all that opposes me."

"After watching you do battle, I'm certain you could fight any evil. I only worry what toll it takes on you."

"You needn't worry. That is why we are here."

"Mehira," Rhys said coming to a stop.

"Yes?"

"You've been telling me how I should look after myself, and I ask that you do the same."

Mehira tilted her head. She brought a hand up to where her mouth would be. "You're awfully... Cute at the moment."

Rhys deflated and shook his head. "Promise me that, Mehira, please."

"My apologies." She nodded and leaned down to Rhys' eye level. "I will make certain I return unscathed, without a speck of sin clinging to my hide."

And yet that didn't satisfy him. Rhys looked into her helmet's vents, trying to find the sparkle of whatever eyes lie underneath. She could see his very soul, watch it glimmer with all the issues that writhed around inside him. The first time he'd ever been able to speak to such a magnificent being, become friends, and walk alongside them without a care in the world for whatever was happening. He couldn't let her walk off into what could very well be hell. He wouldn't. Not alone, not without the feeble aid he'd bring. Selfish, no doubt, but he was human after all.

"Mehira," Rhys said. The angel nodded, relaxing herself. She knew what was coming next no doubt. "I want to go with you. To one of the centers."

"No, dear protected." Mehira firmly shook her head and placed a hand on Rhys' cheek. "This is a pilgrimage of my own. I must go alone to seek what the heavens desire."

"Why? Why alone? There's little reason for you to do something so dangerous."

"That is what Prosa said. That is what I shall do."

"No, Prosa said you must go without angelic aide." Rhys pointed to himself. "I am flesh and blood, just like the rest of my flawed people. Prosa did not object in any way to us coming with."

Mehira walked closer to Rhys and sighed. She stared for a long while as her hand idly ran over his skin.

"I can't let you go in alone. It just wouldn't be right," he said.

"We serve you, Rhys. Not the reverse," she said softly.

"And we all serve the Lord, do we not? Regardless, what would be wrong with returning in kind?"

"This is truly what you want?"

"Yes."

"I do not know what lies inside. You are willing to go in with so little information that it may kill you? I most certainly do not want that."

"I have faith, isn't that all I require?"

Mehira looked up to the sky. "Very well."