Chapter 64.2

“Did I… do something wrong, Zadkiel?” Vee asked nervously. He still hadn’t decided if she could leave or not, and his asking Hope to leave them alone frightened her.They walked for several minutes in absolute silence, the only noise the faint babbling of the nearby brook. Zadkiel led Vee to a series of tall fruit trees, each more beautiful and ethereal than the last, and eventually raised a hand to gently caress the faintly luminescent bark. “Nothing at all, young Vequaniel. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

Watching Zadkiel grow so pensive was somehow unnerving and comforting at the same time. “I don’t understand.”

After taking a deep breath, he turned to look at her again. Just behind his radiant blue eyes, Vee saw glimpses of the cosmos and shivered. “In a different life, I knew nothing but the immaculate glory of Heaven. I existed across eons, beyond time, and more than anything else, I lived in certainty. Certainty that I was doing the right thing, guiding humanity towards a better future. My consciousness, just as the consciousness of all archangels, was not a singular thing. I refer to myself in the singular now, but it took many years to truly internalize the idea.”

“I’m sorry, Zadkiel. I can’t imagine that was an easy process.”

“Far from it, but that’s not what I hoped to talk about.” A gentle breeze swept through the clearing, rustling Zadkiel’s immaculate blonde hair as he continued. “In that life, I was surrounded by peers. I was never alone, and even had everyone else vacated my perception, I still would have had myself. Archangels, we… we watch, for lack of a better phrase. We observe humanity, all in different capacities, with my domain being mercy. It was in the process of this observation, of trying to find the truest examples of mercy on Earth, that I found her.”

Vee glanced back at the cottage. “You mean Hope’s mother?”

Zadkiel nodded. “The very same. One of my many iterations, it… I don’t know how to describe it. I grew attached, fixated. I wanted to learn more about her, but not just from an outsider’s perspective. I manifested, in some small part of myself, and I spoke with her. It was the first time I truly humanity. Not as a collective, but as something more. I will spare you the full story, but suffice to say, Hope is the result of this curiosity. My daughter, the light of my life, is a being of two worlds, a true progeny of an archangel and a human.”

“A Nephilim,” Vee muttered.

“According to Heaven, she does not and cannot exist. When they learned of my actions, I was torn from the Heavens and cast down to Earth. That is where Evelyn found me all those years ago. In that moment, I became singular, and I learned what it meant to be alone.”

Although scared to overstep her boundaries, Vee couldn’t fight the urge to try and comfort Zadkiel. She carefully placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “That sounds terrible, I’m so sorry.”

“You are the first divine entity I’ve spoken to since I was cast out of Heaven, Vequaniel.” Zadkiel placed his hand atop hers and smiled. “Your presence could easily have been malicious, a sign of weakening protection against Heavenly malice. Instead, however, you speak to me of matters I have wrestled with for decades. What does it mean to believe when the kingdom of Heaven frowns upon our actions? How do we reconcile our feelings of love against the scripture that tells us who we love is wrong?”

As the breeze continued tossing Zadkiel’s hair, the light of the clearing started bending towards him as well. Despite the presence of the sun, Vee swore she felt its heat.

“I do not know how you are here, Vequaniel,” Zadkiel admitted. “Everything I know says your presence here should be impossible, yet here you stand, perhaps the one person most capable of understanding me. Is our meeting an act of God? Could this be a sign I have not lost His favor?”

In all of Vee’s life, she could never have imagined meeting an archangel. Yet even had she been bold enough to dream she might, she would have considered it even more impossible to see one cry.

Tears slid down Zadkiel’s cheek as he spoke of God, his gaze turned towards the multicolored sky.

“Perhaps it is better you do not know, Zadkiel. Only then can your faith be strongest, right?” Vee said quietly.

Silence fell once more, as if the entirety of the clearing bent to Zadkiel’s desire for reflection. Vee watched patiently, the sight of this archangel moving her to tears alongside him, but also spurring a single, powerful question in her mind.

“What is God like?” Vee asked quietly.

Turning his gaze back towards Vee, Zadkiel smiled once more. “No one knows.”

Disbelief and shock forced an unexpected laugh from Vee. “I… no one?”

“We cannot even say for sure if God exists,” he admitted. “If they do, their existence is so vast that it would be impossible for even the archangels of Heaven to comprehend. The Metatron once claimed to speak for God, but it is just as likely they speak only mad delusions. Of course, perhaps conversing with a being so vast drives one mad, and the Metatron spoke only truth. We will never, and can never, know.”

Stunned, Vee remained silent. What was there possibly to say after learning that the archangels themselves didn’t even know if God exists?

Zadkiel walked away from Vee, leading her to the small river that skipped and bubbled nearby. He slowly sank to the plush grass beneath them, then dipped his legs into the water, pants and all. Vee continued to mimic his behavior, the simplicity of this gesture feeling like one of the most profound actions she’d ever taken.

“In my full glory, I existed beyond space and time. Nigh-infinite knowledge, yet with all that wisdom, I never knew the joy of a simple river. The delight of a home-cooked meal, the beautiful memories that arise from sharing a car ride with a treasured friend. I will be honest with you, Vee; I do not want you to leave. Yes, I’m ecstatic to see Hope so animated, but I am surprised to find I enjoy your presence here as well. In spite of this, however, I will not stand in the way of your departure. I ask only that you give me one chance to be selfish, to ask for something that only you can provide.”

A sigh of relief escaped Vee’s lips, though it carried faint hesitation with it. What could she possibly offer an archangel?

“Is it true that, on Earth, people sometimes turn to religious leaders to confess? To share their insecurities and admit their wrongdoings?”

“That… Yes, that is a thing, Zadkiel. What would you like me to share?”

The archangel shook his head. “You have it backwards. I have something weighing on me, and I would like a friend to confide in. In all my years of life, however, I’ve only made two, and neither of them are here with me now. For now, might I consider you a friend?”

Vee nodded slowly. “Of course, Zadkiel. It would be an honor.”

Water swirled and bubbled around Vee’s feet, appearing much more alive than she would have anticipated, and she watched Zadkiel stare deep into his flickering reflection in the river while he gathered his thoughts. “I fear I may have accidentally betrayed someone.”

After allowing space for the statement to sit, Vee responded. “How so?”

Zadkiel reached out and grabbed Vee’s hand unexpectedly, gripping it tightly. “When I first appeared on this Earth, I was rescued by Evelyn. I called her terrible names, insulted her constantly, all while she patiently escorted me across the country. Had she listened to my requests and freed me, Hope and I would have been captured by your local government and forced into some kind of twisted servitude. She displayed more patience and maturity than any archangel I’ve ever known, and in the last moments of her company, I offered her a Miracle.”

“I heard as much from Amara. A parting gift in thanks of everything she did for you.”

“Except… I can’t in good faith say that’s what I intended it to be.” Zadkiel’s grip tightened, and droplets fell from his face to join the river around their legs. “I was thankful for her actions, of course I was, but they didn’t make sense. She is an archdemon; Lilith’s firstborn of all things. Accepting that she merely wanted to help meant turning my back on my entire faith, and in those final moments… I faltered.”

He took a deep breath, one that shook his body as it released. “When I cast my thoughts back to that moment, I still do not know what my intentions were. Was the offer genuine? Had I intended it to be a trap? The only thing I can say for sure is that I expected her to choose power, prestige, or something of the sort.”

“But she didn’t,” Vee whispered.

“She wished for a child.” Zadkiel laughed, as if the disbelief from Evelyn’s decision still rattled him. “All of existence at her fingertips, power a demon could never dream of having, and she wished to raise a mortal child.”

Vee squeezed the archangel’s hand back, sure that there was nothing to say in this moment.

“Some part of me, an echo of my former glory, had anticipated a selfish request. I had been ready to smite her, to rend her existence from the cosmos before delighting that my faith in Heaven had proven true in the end. In the face of her request, of her desire to simply give life to a single, innocent mortal, my faith crumbled. I lost all sense of who I was and what I wanted to be, and in that darkness, I finally saw Evelyn. I saw who she truly was, what she was running from, and who she was fighting to become. She deserved respect, to have her Miracle granted, and I swore to her I would do so. I would give her a mortal child.”

The more Vee listened to Zadkiel’s story, the less she saw him as some kind of pinnacle of angelic power. He became nothing more than a friend, and she comforted him as such. She gently laid a hand on his back, then spoke. “But Amara is a demon. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?”

As Zadkiel nodded, he began to weep. “My first real friend, the person to whom I owe everything in this life, and I failed her. Did my hesitation taint my Miracle? Was my bias against demons too strong to overcome? All she wanted was a normal life for her daughter, and I robbed her of that chance. How am I supposed to live with myself knowing I betrayed her so?”

Moving the hand she’d placed on Zadkiel’s back, she reached for his shoulder and invited him to lean against her. “When exactly did you see Evelyn last?”

The archangel shuddered as he attempted to process the weight of his emotion, but steadied himself enough to speak. “Time is… confused in The Wilds, to a certain extent, so I cannot give you an exact time frame. All I know is that she’d only just found out herself; she’d recently recovered some of her strength, and was intent on reading her daughter’s soul to determine what truly happened. After she left, I… I grew so worried about my actions that I asked Morgan to obfuscate our existence even further. I have not seen Evelyn since.”

Vee gasped as the realization hit her. “So, you haven’t heard the truth, Zadkiel. Amara is mortal. Your Miracle worked as intended.”

“What?!” Zadkiel pulled away from Vee in shock. “That’s impossible!”

“Right, impossible,” Vee said with a hint of jest. “Like how archangels can’t have children with mortals, or how archdemons can never move past their hellish origins to become better people.”

“…One would think that, in time, I would stop being so easily surprised,” he muttered.

“Evelyn didn’t understand it either,” Vee clarified. “But even though we don’t understand the exact nature of Amara’s existence, you’re overlooking the most important part of this.”

The archangel looked up curiously, his eyes still irritated.

“Amara herself,” Vee said. “She being a demon. She loves her wings, her tail, her horns. She cooks dinner every night using her hellfire, she’s constantly dreaming of soaring through the sky, miles above the world. Because she’s a demon, Evelyn can be fully honest about who she is, and their relationship is stronger than it’s ever been. You’ve given them both an incredible gift, Zadkiel.”

“I…” Zadkiel faltered slightly as more tears fell down his cheeks. Without warning, he pulled Vee in for a hug, a gesture she happily returned. “Thank you, Vee.”

When their hug ended, Zadkiel seemed reluctant to pull away from Vee entirely. He leaned his head against hers, and for a brief moment, she felt hints of his full presence once more. The two of them watched the river bubble and spin around their legs, listening to the ambient noises of the nearby forest. In time, Zadkiel spoke up once more.

“I truly hope that, one day, I will be fortunate enough to meet Amara. If she is as you describe her, she sounds every bit as radiant and lovely as my daughter. Who, I might add, would be exponentially more excited than I if a chance to meet Amara presented itself.”

“Once our lives have settled down again, perhaps we can come visit?” Vee suggested. “Unless you would rather come to us at Aurelius, instead.”

Zadkiel chuckled. “I dare not leave this clearing. Heaven is more powerful than you could possibly imagine, young Vequaniel, and they are always watching. True, there are many things that escape their notice, but I promise that a visit to Earth would not end well for Hope or myself. Likewise, I imagine it would be nigh impossible for you to return, especially given we do not understand how you arrived here in the first place.” Zadkiel looked back at the cottage behind them, then sighed. “Speaking of my lovely daughter, we should return to the den. I imagine you will both wish to say goodbye before you leave us.”

“That sounds lovely, Zadkiel. I can’t thank you enough for welcoming me into your home, and for letting me leave.” As Vee stepped out of the small river, she noticed that none of the water came with her; all her clothes were as dry as the moment she first arrived in this clearing. She politely gestured to the front door, then asked, “Shall we?”