Categories > Original > Fantasy > Fairy Wings
Rashnu's Verdict
Every story begins in a time and place. This story is no different, except the point of its beginning is not any time or place. At least, not as humans understand them. There is no "near" or "far" or "within" or "beyond" or "before" or "after." Where this story begins, there is only "here" and "now." And bliss. An infinitely sublime state of perfect bliss, unbound by Space and Time.
Here is where Angels tread.
In this particular "here" and "now," there is a very slight though still noticeable drop in the usual levels of bliss. Several bright figures move through the shimmering auroras of pure rapture, like a gathering of stars. To human eyes, it seems as if each star-like figure burns with varying degrees of brilliance. Each, too, sports its own unique colors and patterns. One is a brilliant spray of white and cobalt with iridescent streaks down the sides. Another is a crimson hibiscus with a center as blue as the hottest flame. Another is a heart-shaped cloud of pale pink, with dusky rose borders. Another is a sparkling fountain of rich yellows and creams. And still another is a forest-green pillar with a fluff of warm gold at the top. The result is a breathtaking array of graceful shapes and rainbow lights, each a paragon of otherworldly splendor and magnificence.
The white Angel speaks first, her voice tinged with weary exasperation: All right, what has he done /this time?/
/He didn't mean to--/the yellow Angel begins, but a gesture from the white Angel interrupts him.
Haniel, I understand your desire to defend your young assistant/, she says with gentle firmness. /Be assured that you will have your chance to speak. But now I would hear from Chamuel and the others.
Haniel bows his head respectfully. As you wish, Lady Rashnu.
The crimson Angel, who is standing at the head of what looks like a small crowd of Angels, steps forward, still quivering with righteous indignation. Lady Rashnu, we have come for your judgment. This young sprite under Haniel's care has gone too far. He has broken the rules! He overstepped his authority, and his arrogance and presumption has caused unwarranted chaos on the physical plane and put human lives in danger--
Again, Rashnu raises her hand. Peace, Chamuel/, she murmurs. Immediately all the Angels are bathed in a soothing pale blue light, and Chamuel's angry flares smoothen out to a calmer shade of red-gold. Rashnu smiles, further diffusing the tension. /Let's have the story from the beginning, shall we?
After Chamuel and the others present their testimony, Rashnu gazes off for a moment, frowning thoughtfully. That is indeed a serious charge to lay upon one of his kind/, she observes before turning to Haniel. /You may speak now, Haniel. Do you have anything to counter their testimony?
Haniel's yellow tendrils droop in defeat. No, Lady Rashnu/, he says glumly. It was as Chamuel and the others said. /However, I have this to say about young Arkaion/, he adds, blazing with intense, almost defiant earnestness. /He did what he thought was right. And I know for a fact that the, er, ensuing accident was not what he had meant to happen. His techniques may be flawed, but his intentions were pure.
In a human gathering, this statement would likely meet with a loud outburst of skepticism, but Angels are far too polite and dignified for such churlish behavior. Still, Haniel can sense a few subtle ripples in the atmosphere coming from the direction of Chamuel and the others, which among humans might translate to someone fighting to keep from rolling his eyes out of respect for the speaker. The ripples are quickly suppressed, because Angels understand well the power and significance of intention among spiritual beings and thus the desperation behind Haniel's assertion. To cast doubts upon one's intention is to question one's alignment in the cosmic balance. /He means well/, Haniel says again, radiating his own certainty to the others in splashes of almost opaque gold. Just to be sure.
Rashnu acknowledges Haniel's speech with a gracious nod, then turns to Chamuel. I have heard the two sides of the case/, she declares. /I ask you now, Chamuel, what judgment would you have me pass over this errant young Faerie?
Chamuel glances over at Haniel and sends him red-gold petals of sympathy tempered with resolve. Lady Rashnu, you perceive further than we do/, he addresses the white Angel humbly. /We too have Faeries under our care, and we understand the troubles Haniel is going through. Still, I believe it is unwise to shield this one from the consequences of his actions if our intention is to bring him closer to the next step in his evolution. In this, however, we bow to your greater wisdom, Lady Rashnu.
Rashnu smiles at this. My thanks for your trust, Chamuel. And will you, Haniel, accede to my judgment as well?
/I will/, Lady Rashnu, Haniel replies miserably.
Good. I ask you now to leave me to take counsel and ponder over the case. Do not worry, Chamuel. Young Arkaion's punishment will be appropriate to his offense. Oh, please stay, Haniel/, she adds as Haniel begins to move away. /This concerns you as well.
Chamuel and the other Angels depart, leaving Haniel, Rashnu, the forest-green Angel and the pink Angel behind. Haniel gazes at the two Angels, both of whom had yet to speak, with as much curiosity as he dares. They are high-level Angels; not as high as Rashnu, but much higher than him. He wonders why two such high-level Angels should concern themselves with a case of Faerie delinquency, although admittedly, any case of delinquency among Faerie is unusual enough to merit some notice. He continues his surreptitious scrutiny of the two. The pink Angel has an air of mischief about her, and her billowing pink clouds tend to invite hugs and cuddles from the beholder. The other Angel, however, stands rigidly tall and straight, a pillar of austere dignity except for the incongruous fluff of gold upon his head. Haniel finds himself eyeing the tall, green Angel with trepidation. Sensing his regard, the two Angels turn and look straight back at him. The coolly assessing expression upon the green Angel's face never changes, while the pink Angel grins and waves at him. Haniel hastily bows his head, his yellow tendrils pressing closer against him as if to conceal him.
Fortunately, Rashnu chooses to speak then, saving Haniel from further embarrassment. Well/, she sighs, /that young Faerie of yours has certainly outdone himself this time.
Lady Rashnu, please, it was my fault. I take full responsibility for-- Haniel blurts out, but is once again cut off when Rashnu raises her hand.
She gives him a wry smile. Yes, I know all about "command responsibility," Haniel. However, I'm afraid it won't work this time. She moves toward the two Angels and extends her hand. This, my friends, as you already know, is the Angel Haniel, under whom the Faerie in question has been trained and is assigned to work. Haniel, I'd like you to meet the Angels Cassiel and Anael. They are here now at my request, because I believe Arkaion's case may have some bearing upon a concern of theirs, and that a satisfactory arrangement can be made among you.
Haniel bows dutifully. Cassiel, the green Angel, merely inclines his head. Anael, on the other hand, bounces over to Haniel and grasps his hand. Hello, Haniel, such a pleasure! she gushes, pumping his hand enthusiastically. I've been wanting to meet you for the longest time.
H-hello/, Haniel stammers, taken aback. /May I ask why, Lady Anael?
Anael makes a face. Pooh! Don't use all those tiresome titles on me, please. Just call me Anael. And why what, Haniel?
Why did you want to meet me? Haniel says weakly.
Why, no reason at all! Anael exclaims, laughing. I just like meeting as many people as I can, that's all.
Anael/, Cassiel says sternly. /Kindly behave yourself.
Oh, all right/. Anael nudges Haniel conspiratorially and flashes him another grin, her rosy clouds wafting all over him. /Time to be serious again. Sorry, Lady Rashnu.
To his shock, Haniel finds that, instead of frowning as censoriously as Cassiel, Rashnu is trying not to laugh. Back to the matter at hand, then/, she says, her expression sobering up. /I'm afraid Chamuel is right. Arkaion has gone too far this time.
/He didn't mean to cause so much trouble/, Haniel protests.
There was a pregnant woman involved in that accident/, Rashnu points out gravely. /And several children, besides, including an infant. Unthinkingly endangering innocent lives like that for any reason is behavior unbecoming of a Faerie, particularly one of Arkaion's class and caliber.
/He was only trying to help/, he says much more feebly.
What he did was uncalled for/, Cassiel states heavily, speaking to Haniel for the first time. /Spiritual beings must act in accordance to very strict rules. These rules are there for good reason, and this is most pronounced when dealing with humans. Surely every Class 4 Faerie who has received the most rudimentary training knows this.
/Geez, Cassiel, tone it down/, Anael mutters.
Haniel's yellow tendrils turn a shade paler. Arkaion is the best Class 4 Faerie I have ever trained/, he says stiffly. /In fact, he completed his training far ahead of his group, and has taken it upon himself to get trained in Class 1 skills. His abilities continue to astound even me. It is only because of some lapse on my part that he--
Cassiel stops him with a shake of his head. No, don't blame yourself for his deficiencies. Anael is right; I apologize. Your proficiency as a mentor for Class 4 Faeries is quite famous, which is why Faeries with exceptional abilities tend to fall under you. But this Arkaion is proving to be /too exceptional. Something more is required in order to curb his recklessness before he becomes a danger to humans and Faerie alike. I doubt you would wish the alternative upon your young charge, Haniel/, he adds with a grimness that sends a thrill of alarm through the yellow Angel.
I don't think we need to go that far/, Anael says, narrowing her eyes at Cassiel. /I think the problem is that Arkaion is just confused. He strikes me as someone who isn't, well, completely happy with what he's doing.
Haniel sends a creamy wave of gratitude at the pink Angel. No, I confess that he isn't. He once complained to me how he resents not being given a choice about how to live his life. It's odd, but I think he doesn't want to /be a Class 4 Faerie./
An expression of genuine bafflement passes over Cassiel's features. He's Faerie. What would he know about choices?
Are you sure he's Class 4? Anael asks. Maybe he's really Class 1 or--
He's Class 4, La--Anael/. Haniel's yellow fountain-sprays ruffle outward momentarily in his embarrassment at addressing a superior so familiarly. /I was there when he emerged from the Illumina, and even then he was clearly Class 4, although he has also displayed some Class 1 abilities, an affinity to air and fire in particular. As Lord Cassiel said, Arkaion is exceptional, but his talents are still predominantly Class 4.
/But if he's so unhappy at being Class 4, maybe he'll be better off being Class 1/, Anael says.
As Haniel struggles to contain his horror at the idea of transforming his charge into a different Faerie class altogether, Cassiel turns and gives Anael a withering look. /Anael, Faeries are born into their destinies. There is no changing them into something else. Arkaion emerged from the Illumina a Class 4 Faerie, and a Class 4 Faerie he will remain until his light burns out. His feelings, which are highly questionable to begin with, have absolutely no bearing upon it. The idea of a Faerie having a choice/, he mutters, his golden fluff rippling with distaste.
Oh stop/, Anael says mildly. /I don't see you coming up with better ideas.
All that young sprite needs is discipline/, the green Angel declares. /He is rash and impatient and his judgment is unsound. Discipline can take care of that.
Anael's pink clouds puff up in indignation. It's not discipline he needs, Cassiel, it's understanding--
That's quite enough/. Rashnu's voice calmly cuts in, forestalling an argument between the two Angels. Pale blue light washes over them again, filling each with cool, sweet serenity. The white Angel sighs and lowers her hand. /I've seen Arkaion, Haniel/, she says, sending blue-white rays of understanding at the frazzled yellow Angel. /I've watched how he works, and I agree. He is good at what he does, and what he does best, despite how he feels about it, is be a Class 4 Faerie. If we were to change him, we would only turn him from an unhappy Class 4 Faerie to an unhappy and mediocre Class 1 Faerie. But I sense a lack in him, and that lack is what's causing all these galling mistakes that have dogged him so far. He has everything it takes to be a truly outstanding Class 4 Faerie; that is, everything except the most important thing. And unfortunately, that is something that he has to find for himself, or never find it at all.
What is that, Lady Rashnu? Haniel asks nervously.
Rashnu tells him.
/Oh/. Haniel frowns, awash in a welter of relief, anxiety, disbelief and, oddly enough, amusement. /That is--ah, unexpected. Er/, he stammers, at a loss.
Oh, it does make sense! It does, it does! Anael cries, clapping her hands in glee.
Hmph/, Cassiel grunts, olive stripes of doubt standing out momentarily against his usually staid field of green. /Highly irregular. Forgive me, Lady Rashnu; if this were a human, it would have been a foregone conclusion. But a Faerie? No, it is simply impossible.
/But you said it yourself, Cassiel, you stick-in-the-mud/, Anael says impishly, throwing her arms around the stolid green Angel in a fond hug. /Arkaion is exceptional/.
And, I believe/, Rashnu adds, /perfect for the mission you two have in mind.
What? Cassiel says flatly.
What? Haniel echoes.
Rashnu smiles brightly, spreading her white and cobalt spray in a wide fan. Trust me on this. Arkaion is exactly what you need, Cassiel. And that, my friends/, she adds with finality, /is my verdict on this case.
There is silence for a brief moment, broken by the sound of Anael's muffled giggling. Cassiel shoots her a quelling look. /As you wish, Lady Rashnu/, he manages, bowing stiffly to the white Angel, before stalking back into the mists and vanishing.
Anael giggles again. Sorry about that, Lady Rashnu. You know how that fuddy-duddy can be. Don't worry. I'll be looking over his shoulder every now and then to make sure that things are going according to plan.
You do that, Anael/, Rashnu says with a sigh, then Anael follows Cassiel through the mists. Rashnu turns to Haniel, who remembers himself in time and manages a somewhat awkward bow. /You are unhappy with my decision, Haniel? she asks gently.
Haniel swallows. A little, Lady Rashnu. It's just that I--I've--
--grown fond of your Faerie assistant and are anxious about his fate? With a graceful sweep of her own blue-white wisps, she touches Haniel's shoulder comfortingly. Be at ease, Faerie Mentor. This will all work out for the best.
I know. I think, like Lady Anael, I'm beginning to figure out your plan. However-- he gives her a wry grin --I'm still going to have to tell Kai the good news.
As he melts into the mists, he hears Rashnu's merry laugh, like the sound of crystalline bells, floating behind him.
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Author's rant:
Thanks for reading this. I'm trying to shake off a really, really bad bout of writer's block with a new story, just to get the juices flowing, and this one has been stewing in the back of my mind for a while. Please note, though, the story doesn't follow all the usual traditions about Faerie and the like. In any case, I hope you enjoyed it, and if you would be so kind as to review, well...my sincerest thanks to you. ^__^
Every story begins in a time and place. This story is no different, except the point of its beginning is not any time or place. At least, not as humans understand them. There is no "near" or "far" or "within" or "beyond" or "before" or "after." Where this story begins, there is only "here" and "now." And bliss. An infinitely sublime state of perfect bliss, unbound by Space and Time.
Here is where Angels tread.
In this particular "here" and "now," there is a very slight though still noticeable drop in the usual levels of bliss. Several bright figures move through the shimmering auroras of pure rapture, like a gathering of stars. To human eyes, it seems as if each star-like figure burns with varying degrees of brilliance. Each, too, sports its own unique colors and patterns. One is a brilliant spray of white and cobalt with iridescent streaks down the sides. Another is a crimson hibiscus with a center as blue as the hottest flame. Another is a heart-shaped cloud of pale pink, with dusky rose borders. Another is a sparkling fountain of rich yellows and creams. And still another is a forest-green pillar with a fluff of warm gold at the top. The result is a breathtaking array of graceful shapes and rainbow lights, each a paragon of otherworldly splendor and magnificence.
The white Angel speaks first, her voice tinged with weary exasperation: All right, what has he done /this time?/
/He didn't mean to--/the yellow Angel begins, but a gesture from the white Angel interrupts him.
Haniel, I understand your desire to defend your young assistant/, she says with gentle firmness. /Be assured that you will have your chance to speak. But now I would hear from Chamuel and the others.
Haniel bows his head respectfully. As you wish, Lady Rashnu.
The crimson Angel, who is standing at the head of what looks like a small crowd of Angels, steps forward, still quivering with righteous indignation. Lady Rashnu, we have come for your judgment. This young sprite under Haniel's care has gone too far. He has broken the rules! He overstepped his authority, and his arrogance and presumption has caused unwarranted chaos on the physical plane and put human lives in danger--
Again, Rashnu raises her hand. Peace, Chamuel/, she murmurs. Immediately all the Angels are bathed in a soothing pale blue light, and Chamuel's angry flares smoothen out to a calmer shade of red-gold. Rashnu smiles, further diffusing the tension. /Let's have the story from the beginning, shall we?
After Chamuel and the others present their testimony, Rashnu gazes off for a moment, frowning thoughtfully. That is indeed a serious charge to lay upon one of his kind/, she observes before turning to Haniel. /You may speak now, Haniel. Do you have anything to counter their testimony?
Haniel's yellow tendrils droop in defeat. No, Lady Rashnu/, he says glumly. It was as Chamuel and the others said. /However, I have this to say about young Arkaion/, he adds, blazing with intense, almost defiant earnestness. /He did what he thought was right. And I know for a fact that the, er, ensuing accident was not what he had meant to happen. His techniques may be flawed, but his intentions were pure.
In a human gathering, this statement would likely meet with a loud outburst of skepticism, but Angels are far too polite and dignified for such churlish behavior. Still, Haniel can sense a few subtle ripples in the atmosphere coming from the direction of Chamuel and the others, which among humans might translate to someone fighting to keep from rolling his eyes out of respect for the speaker. The ripples are quickly suppressed, because Angels understand well the power and significance of intention among spiritual beings and thus the desperation behind Haniel's assertion. To cast doubts upon one's intention is to question one's alignment in the cosmic balance. /He means well/, Haniel says again, radiating his own certainty to the others in splashes of almost opaque gold. Just to be sure.
Rashnu acknowledges Haniel's speech with a gracious nod, then turns to Chamuel. I have heard the two sides of the case/, she declares. /I ask you now, Chamuel, what judgment would you have me pass over this errant young Faerie?
Chamuel glances over at Haniel and sends him red-gold petals of sympathy tempered with resolve. Lady Rashnu, you perceive further than we do/, he addresses the white Angel humbly. /We too have Faeries under our care, and we understand the troubles Haniel is going through. Still, I believe it is unwise to shield this one from the consequences of his actions if our intention is to bring him closer to the next step in his evolution. In this, however, we bow to your greater wisdom, Lady Rashnu.
Rashnu smiles at this. My thanks for your trust, Chamuel. And will you, Haniel, accede to my judgment as well?
/I will/, Lady Rashnu, Haniel replies miserably.
Good. I ask you now to leave me to take counsel and ponder over the case. Do not worry, Chamuel. Young Arkaion's punishment will be appropriate to his offense. Oh, please stay, Haniel/, she adds as Haniel begins to move away. /This concerns you as well.
Chamuel and the other Angels depart, leaving Haniel, Rashnu, the forest-green Angel and the pink Angel behind. Haniel gazes at the two Angels, both of whom had yet to speak, with as much curiosity as he dares. They are high-level Angels; not as high as Rashnu, but much higher than him. He wonders why two such high-level Angels should concern themselves with a case of Faerie delinquency, although admittedly, any case of delinquency among Faerie is unusual enough to merit some notice. He continues his surreptitious scrutiny of the two. The pink Angel has an air of mischief about her, and her billowing pink clouds tend to invite hugs and cuddles from the beholder. The other Angel, however, stands rigidly tall and straight, a pillar of austere dignity except for the incongruous fluff of gold upon his head. Haniel finds himself eyeing the tall, green Angel with trepidation. Sensing his regard, the two Angels turn and look straight back at him. The coolly assessing expression upon the green Angel's face never changes, while the pink Angel grins and waves at him. Haniel hastily bows his head, his yellow tendrils pressing closer against him as if to conceal him.
Fortunately, Rashnu chooses to speak then, saving Haniel from further embarrassment. Well/, she sighs, /that young Faerie of yours has certainly outdone himself this time.
Lady Rashnu, please, it was my fault. I take full responsibility for-- Haniel blurts out, but is once again cut off when Rashnu raises her hand.
She gives him a wry smile. Yes, I know all about "command responsibility," Haniel. However, I'm afraid it won't work this time. She moves toward the two Angels and extends her hand. This, my friends, as you already know, is the Angel Haniel, under whom the Faerie in question has been trained and is assigned to work. Haniel, I'd like you to meet the Angels Cassiel and Anael. They are here now at my request, because I believe Arkaion's case may have some bearing upon a concern of theirs, and that a satisfactory arrangement can be made among you.
Haniel bows dutifully. Cassiel, the green Angel, merely inclines his head. Anael, on the other hand, bounces over to Haniel and grasps his hand. Hello, Haniel, such a pleasure! she gushes, pumping his hand enthusiastically. I've been wanting to meet you for the longest time.
H-hello/, Haniel stammers, taken aback. /May I ask why, Lady Anael?
Anael makes a face. Pooh! Don't use all those tiresome titles on me, please. Just call me Anael. And why what, Haniel?
Why did you want to meet me? Haniel says weakly.
Why, no reason at all! Anael exclaims, laughing. I just like meeting as many people as I can, that's all.
Anael/, Cassiel says sternly. /Kindly behave yourself.
Oh, all right/. Anael nudges Haniel conspiratorially and flashes him another grin, her rosy clouds wafting all over him. /Time to be serious again. Sorry, Lady Rashnu.
To his shock, Haniel finds that, instead of frowning as censoriously as Cassiel, Rashnu is trying not to laugh. Back to the matter at hand, then/, she says, her expression sobering up. /I'm afraid Chamuel is right. Arkaion has gone too far this time.
/He didn't mean to cause so much trouble/, Haniel protests.
There was a pregnant woman involved in that accident/, Rashnu points out gravely. /And several children, besides, including an infant. Unthinkingly endangering innocent lives like that for any reason is behavior unbecoming of a Faerie, particularly one of Arkaion's class and caliber.
/He was only trying to help/, he says much more feebly.
What he did was uncalled for/, Cassiel states heavily, speaking to Haniel for the first time. /Spiritual beings must act in accordance to very strict rules. These rules are there for good reason, and this is most pronounced when dealing with humans. Surely every Class 4 Faerie who has received the most rudimentary training knows this.
/Geez, Cassiel, tone it down/, Anael mutters.
Haniel's yellow tendrils turn a shade paler. Arkaion is the best Class 4 Faerie I have ever trained/, he says stiffly. /In fact, he completed his training far ahead of his group, and has taken it upon himself to get trained in Class 1 skills. His abilities continue to astound even me. It is only because of some lapse on my part that he--
Cassiel stops him with a shake of his head. No, don't blame yourself for his deficiencies. Anael is right; I apologize. Your proficiency as a mentor for Class 4 Faeries is quite famous, which is why Faeries with exceptional abilities tend to fall under you. But this Arkaion is proving to be /too exceptional. Something more is required in order to curb his recklessness before he becomes a danger to humans and Faerie alike. I doubt you would wish the alternative upon your young charge, Haniel/, he adds with a grimness that sends a thrill of alarm through the yellow Angel.
I don't think we need to go that far/, Anael says, narrowing her eyes at Cassiel. /I think the problem is that Arkaion is just confused. He strikes me as someone who isn't, well, completely happy with what he's doing.
Haniel sends a creamy wave of gratitude at the pink Angel. No, I confess that he isn't. He once complained to me how he resents not being given a choice about how to live his life. It's odd, but I think he doesn't want to /be a Class 4 Faerie./
An expression of genuine bafflement passes over Cassiel's features. He's Faerie. What would he know about choices?
Are you sure he's Class 4? Anael asks. Maybe he's really Class 1 or--
He's Class 4, La--Anael/. Haniel's yellow fountain-sprays ruffle outward momentarily in his embarrassment at addressing a superior so familiarly. /I was there when he emerged from the Illumina, and even then he was clearly Class 4, although he has also displayed some Class 1 abilities, an affinity to air and fire in particular. As Lord Cassiel said, Arkaion is exceptional, but his talents are still predominantly Class 4.
/But if he's so unhappy at being Class 4, maybe he'll be better off being Class 1/, Anael says.
As Haniel struggles to contain his horror at the idea of transforming his charge into a different Faerie class altogether, Cassiel turns and gives Anael a withering look. /Anael, Faeries are born into their destinies. There is no changing them into something else. Arkaion emerged from the Illumina a Class 4 Faerie, and a Class 4 Faerie he will remain until his light burns out. His feelings, which are highly questionable to begin with, have absolutely no bearing upon it. The idea of a Faerie having a choice/, he mutters, his golden fluff rippling with distaste.
Oh stop/, Anael says mildly. /I don't see you coming up with better ideas.
All that young sprite needs is discipline/, the green Angel declares. /He is rash and impatient and his judgment is unsound. Discipline can take care of that.
Anael's pink clouds puff up in indignation. It's not discipline he needs, Cassiel, it's understanding--
That's quite enough/. Rashnu's voice calmly cuts in, forestalling an argument between the two Angels. Pale blue light washes over them again, filling each with cool, sweet serenity. The white Angel sighs and lowers her hand. /I've seen Arkaion, Haniel/, she says, sending blue-white rays of understanding at the frazzled yellow Angel. /I've watched how he works, and I agree. He is good at what he does, and what he does best, despite how he feels about it, is be a Class 4 Faerie. If we were to change him, we would only turn him from an unhappy Class 4 Faerie to an unhappy and mediocre Class 1 Faerie. But I sense a lack in him, and that lack is what's causing all these galling mistakes that have dogged him so far. He has everything it takes to be a truly outstanding Class 4 Faerie; that is, everything except the most important thing. And unfortunately, that is something that he has to find for himself, or never find it at all.
What is that, Lady Rashnu? Haniel asks nervously.
Rashnu tells him.
/Oh/. Haniel frowns, awash in a welter of relief, anxiety, disbelief and, oddly enough, amusement. /That is--ah, unexpected. Er/, he stammers, at a loss.
Oh, it does make sense! It does, it does! Anael cries, clapping her hands in glee.
Hmph/, Cassiel grunts, olive stripes of doubt standing out momentarily against his usually staid field of green. /Highly irregular. Forgive me, Lady Rashnu; if this were a human, it would have been a foregone conclusion. But a Faerie? No, it is simply impossible.
/But you said it yourself, Cassiel, you stick-in-the-mud/, Anael says impishly, throwing her arms around the stolid green Angel in a fond hug. /Arkaion is exceptional/.
And, I believe/, Rashnu adds, /perfect for the mission you two have in mind.
What? Cassiel says flatly.
What? Haniel echoes.
Rashnu smiles brightly, spreading her white and cobalt spray in a wide fan. Trust me on this. Arkaion is exactly what you need, Cassiel. And that, my friends/, she adds with finality, /is my verdict on this case.
There is silence for a brief moment, broken by the sound of Anael's muffled giggling. Cassiel shoots her a quelling look. /As you wish, Lady Rashnu/, he manages, bowing stiffly to the white Angel, before stalking back into the mists and vanishing.
Anael giggles again. Sorry about that, Lady Rashnu. You know how that fuddy-duddy can be. Don't worry. I'll be looking over his shoulder every now and then to make sure that things are going according to plan.
You do that, Anael/, Rashnu says with a sigh, then Anael follows Cassiel through the mists. Rashnu turns to Haniel, who remembers himself in time and manages a somewhat awkward bow. /You are unhappy with my decision, Haniel? she asks gently.
Haniel swallows. A little, Lady Rashnu. It's just that I--I've--
--grown fond of your Faerie assistant and are anxious about his fate? With a graceful sweep of her own blue-white wisps, she touches Haniel's shoulder comfortingly. Be at ease, Faerie Mentor. This will all work out for the best.
I know. I think, like Lady Anael, I'm beginning to figure out your plan. However-- he gives her a wry grin --I'm still going to have to tell Kai the good news.
As he melts into the mists, he hears Rashnu's merry laugh, like the sound of crystalline bells, floating behind him.
-------------------------------------
Author's rant:
Thanks for reading this. I'm trying to shake off a really, really bad bout of writer's block with a new story, just to get the juices flowing, and this one has been stewing in the back of my mind for a while. Please note, though, the story doesn't follow all the usual traditions about Faerie and the like. In any case, I hope you enjoyed it, and if you would be so kind as to review, well...my sincerest thanks to you. ^__^
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