Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Prickly Prompts - 4. #762 More Angels
Timothy M. and I wrote a short prequel for Diego's Dance with Death.
“You're early," stated Death as they set their newspaper down and turned to face me.
I wasn’t sure if this was a reprimand or a simple statement and decided to stay by the door and wait for Azrael to tell me what to do next. Should I come in? Take a seat? With one sentence they had managed to unsettle me, a feeling I despise. Additionally, I had expected to be led to a small, austere conference room and not into this cozy room with a fireplace and two comfortable loveseats facing each other. When the Angel of Death didn’t say anything more, I couldn’t help saying, “Too early is almost as bad as too late, and I apologize for this.”
They dismissed my apology with a wave with their hand and smiled. “Please take a seat.”
It had been a long time since I last saw the Angel of Death. They hadn’t changed much. Dark cloak, face half hidden by its hood. “Do you remember when we met first, Marcellus?”
I gritted my teeth. “I will never forget the day I lost my wife and son.”
“Even after you fought for their lives and lost and they died in your arms, you tried to save a child. You died carrying a slave’s daughter outside of the burning building. That was why I couldn’t let your soul go on to the afterlife without asking you to become a Guardian. You became a formidable angel, and now you are their Commander.”
“An eternal life spent trying to protect other humans from the kind of fate my beloved wife and child suffered.” I wanted to ask where their Guardian Angel had been, but I knew Azrael didn’t have the answer. Only the Powers higher up knew, and they never answered such questions. Not from humans and not from angels.
Azrael nodded gravely and pushed their hood back. It was the first time I saw their dark eyes close enough to discern their compassion and sadness. “Now let me ask you a question: What does a Guardian angel fear most?”
“To lose their charge prematurely.”
“And even worse?”
I didn’t have to think about the answer. “When a child dies, and it didn’t have enough time on Earth to make an impact.”
“Would you agree with me it takes a special angel to accompany and soothe a young frightened spirit and give it to me, so I can guide them along?”
“Yes, they have to be empathetic and calm to not scare the child even more.”
“You trained all your angels well, Ariel. They do their best, but one angel is remarkably gentle.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Diego Fuentes. The two times he has handed me a human spirit, they were unusually calm. The first one was an old man at the end of a long life, so I didn’t think much of it. But the second time it was little boy, and his spirit was serene, even hopeful as if he knew his journey wasn’t finished.”
”Didn’t you recommend him specifically for Guardian duty when he died together with his brother?”
“You have a good memory.”
I shrugged. Finding new Guardian Angels wasn’t easy, and any help identifying potential candidates was welcome. Even Azrael’s. We added between five and ten angels every year, which was barely enough to keep up with the demand for guardians. When would humans learn to curb their excessive breeding and take better care of their world?
“Diego is becoming one of my best Guardians, but his brother Sablo is a rebel. However, they both take their duty seriously. So thank you for sending them along to Guardian Central.”
“You’re welcome. Now I would like you to do me a favor in return and assign Diego to SCP duty.”
I suppressed a shudder. Special Child Protection missions were hard on Guardians since SCP children had a high likelihood of dying no matter what their companion angel did.
“I normally spread them out, to lessen the burden.”
“Which is fine for your Guardians, but not optimal for the children. They need someone extraordinary.”
“I’ll need to take this up with—”
Azrael held one hand up to interrupt me, and with the other hand the Angel of Death pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it over.
I took the seal-embossed form, and as expected, it was an authorization from the Powers to assign Diego to special missions as requested by Death. I bit back a curse and stood up.
“As you wish, Lord Azrael.” I made no effort to prevent the ice creeping into my tone of voice.
“Thank you, Lord Ariel.” The words came out with a sigh while they replaced their hood.
In the next moment, Azrael was gone, and I hurried from the room to the elevator so I could get back down to GC. I still needed to decide how to tell Guardian Diego about his new duty. Maybe it would be easier for everyone if he didn’t know? I could make sure he had some easier missions in between the SCP jobs. After all, there were rarely more than a couple of SPC jobs per year.
“Why the fuck did I ever agree to become a Guardian, let alone Commander?”
But I knew why. Flexing my scarred hands inside the black gloves, I swore again never to be remiss in my duty to protect the innocent from danger. In spite of the loneliness which haunted my loveless heart.
Thank you @Valkyrie for editing and beta-reading.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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