The Power of the World - part II

The sun shone down, basking the cold ground with warmth. Early morning birds sang in the trees, planted ages ago in the graveyard. Ashleigh woke to the sound of her sister’s little voice calling out to her as he had every morning since he could talk. 1

“Ashes, Ashes”2

A smile spread at her parched and cracked lips as she opened her eyes, seeing that she was alone. She pulled herself to her feet, bare and calloused.  Her muscles screamed, her bones ached with pain that would have dropped a full grown healthy man to his knees in tears. Images of terror and hell clung to her mind as she sighed, feeling considerably better that she had in a couple hundred years. Wiping the dry blood from her face she felt the scar on her right eye, already healed but permanently visible. She could still see out of her eye, except for a line of black where the scar ran through the center of her eye. 3

Ashes scanned her surrounding, seeing the watch on the ground in front of her. She walked unsteadily forward, her loose pants, synched at the waist with a leather belt dragging on the ground around her feet. She wore a loose but not baggy long-sleeved, cotton blouse of a color that unseen anymore. It looked to have once been white, but was now a pale gray. Her waist-length coat, dirty and ripped bent with her as she lifted the packet watch by its chain and stared curiously at it. It was ageless, not a scratch on it and all the numbers were in Roman numerals. She frowned and put it, rather appropriately, in her pocket.4

Clutching the cross in her right fist, she walked slowly, dazedly towards the large iron gates at the graveyard entrance. Vehicles roared past. Birds flew overhead. Ashes pushed her way through the gate and stood on the sidewalk, gazing up and down the street. A blond girl stood watching her from across and a ways down the long street. On her face was the expression of fear and when Ashes locked eyes with her, her face went pale. 5

She shifted her gaze to the cross in her hand, running her thumb along the inscriptions upon it. “Gabriel” she whispered. 6

Jo watched the Angel turn and walk up the street. She walked slowly, limping painfully. Jo swallowed her fear and started after her. She put her shaking hands in her jean pockets and breathed slowly and deeply to settle her racing heart.  She followed her to the end of the sidewalk, where the road turned into gravel and led out of town. She knew where the Angel was headed.  In a few minutes, Jo saw Thomas head towards her from a restaurant where he had gone to get them food while they waited. She watched the large deeply black man walk towards her, frowning.7

“Is she…” he asked quietly upon reaching her.  8

Jo nodded her head in the Angel’s direction then stopped dead in her tracks. Shivers ran up and down her spine as her blood turned to ice. Thomas froze upon seeing her. The Angel stared at them, her face expressionless. Her dark eye and her light-blue, scarred eye shifted from Thomas to Jo and back. A few moments later, which seemed an eternity, she turned and continued walking.  They both breathed a sigh of relief and followed behind. Thomas chucked the food into a trash bin along the street, having lost his appetite, and then followed onto the gravel.9

Gabriel watched from his perch in purgatory, his old eyes, studying, calculating. Michael was in Assisi, Italy. The large cathedral there now was home to many tourists, but what they didn’t know was that in the places they were forbidden to venture into was the classroom for God’s angels. Many large stone hallways and chambers filled out into the mountain and underground. As it had for many millennia’s. He was there, preparing their students for war. For war. He thought. Against one, innocent girl.10

“She is no longer innocent, Gabriel.” A voice said from behind him. “Evil has ridden her of that.”11

“I know.” He sighed.12

Adrienne sat down beside him, her hair long and golden, falling across her shoulders. She folded her pearly white robes across her lap. “Michael’s worried.”  Her expression was grim, filed with concern. 13

“I know” However tiring Michael’s worrying was, his wife only relayed his fears in a calmer voice.14

“You feel bad, don’t you?” she laid her hand over his. “She was your student, wasn’t she?” She watched as he nodded. 15

“I should have searched for her.” He looked down at his hands. 16

“But you did search for her.” She whispered, her wings, white as snow, shimmering. 17

“I should have searched harder!” he stood angrily.18

Adrienne said nothing, but watched him with soft eyes. Her turned and looked at her, then back at his student, walking up the narrow dirt path below. 19

“She’s almost there.” He turned away. “I have to go.” 20

“She won’t remember you.” Adrienne stood up, her gown and robes falling down around her, “She’s insane.”21

Gabriel turned and looked at her over his shoulder. “She was insane before I ever met her.”22