Fic: A History of Heaven (Gabriel/Various Angels, PG-13 for this chapter) 23/59
For full notes and other chapters, please see the Masterpost.
Notes: In this story, before Lucifer fell, his name was Sammael. He was not Lucifer in Heaven.
There is one other canon character operating under an OC name, but I wish for his identity to remain unknown.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 1,528
Chapter Summary: Before going back to Sammael, Gabriel needs a vessel. Somehow, things have gone horribly, horribly wrong.
CHAPTER 23:
Sorcha’s Demise
Sammael’s realm wasn’t technically on Earth, so Gabriel wasn’t sure if the unvesseled time limit applied there or not. He and Sammael had both been envesseled the entire time he was there. Michael agreed it was probably better to be safe than sorry, so the brothers split up to find vessels before talking to Sammael.
Gabriel landed in Sorcha’s hut, his eyes widening in shock as he looked around. The little home was a burnt out shell, devoid of all life. He veiled his grace and stepped out into the village, immediately pressing his hands over his mouth in horror. The whole settlement was dead, crumbling homes and blackened ground testifying to the tragedy that had occurred. Somewhere in the distance, someone was digging. Otherwise, there was no sound; even the birds weren’t singing. In the center were the remnants of a bonfire with a badly charred body hanging from a stake. Gabriel stepped up close and squinted at the remains, just barely recognizing Sorcha’s face beneath the damage.
“No…!” Gabriel touched the burned rope holding her in place, dissolving it and catching her body. He had promised her she would be safe. He had promised he would always look out for her and her family. Artur. Where was Artur?
The digging stopped. Gabriel hastily set Sorcha down before someone could see her body being held by an invisible force. Heavy footsteps heralded the arrival of the sole human in a fifty-mile radius. Atis.
The man scrubbed a soot-blackened arm over his sweaty forehead, looking at the bonfire and Sorcha’s corpse. He spat on the ground and scuffed his foot over the dirt. “Gabriel? You here?”
Gabriel couldn’t answer Atis directly-his voice hurt Atis’ ears, as the man was not a true vessel like Sorcha had been. He did lift Sorcha’s arm, waving it gently to catch Atis’ eye. The man scowled at him. “Fat load of good you were.”
I didn’t know… Gabriel hung his head, tucking Sorcha’s arm back over her chest. He hadn’t felt anything! Granted, the dragons had been extremely distracting, but he still would have felt the runic wards he’d placed all over this village as they were triggered from the danger. He could have stopped this. A Cherub could have stopped this, if he’d only realized…
“They’re not all dead.” Atis folded his arms, shifting his weight as he glared at Sorcha. She was apparently easier to focus on than the invisible angel sitting over her. “That witch managed to massacre all the children of the village and half the adults before they could bring her down. Survivors burned her, burned the whole place, and fled this cursed land. Went that way.” He pointed off to the east. “Found ‘em fleeing, after you dumped me off in the woods. They wouldn’t let me come, said I was just as cursed. You’re not exactly very popular right now. They think you’re some sort of evil spirit who’d just been toying with them.”
I didn’t do this! Gabriel scowled himself, getting to his feet and approaching Atis. The man had no warning before Gabriel was prodding his forehead, sending him into a deep sleep. He caught Atis’ body and laid him down gently before sketching a protective circle around him and slipping into the human’s dreams.
“Could ask a guy before you go mind-whammying him,” Atis grumbled, in the dream-village he was standing in. None of the buildings were damaged here, but they were just as empty as the real thing. “Could wait for him to give permission, you know.”
“I couldn’t exactly speak with you when you were awake.” Gabriel crossed his own arms at the man, looking around. Here, in this dream, he looked like Atis’ ancestor, Vindonnus, the first vessel Gabriel had ever taken. He was wearing linen clothing like Atis and Sorcha’s people, but otherwise, his dream-body was the same as the ancient warrior. “Atis, I had nothing to do with this.”
“Figured as much. They’d’ve killed me on the spot if they’d seen my face helping with this mess. Still. I thought you were protecting us.”
“I was!” Gabriel stomped over to the nearest house, pointing at a mark above the door. “Every single one of your homes has this protection! If there’s any sort of big danger, like a fire or murderer, these would have warned me!”
“Did they?”
“No.” Gabriel’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know why. They’ve always worked before.”
“Can they be broken? Could Sorcha have broken them?”
“They can, but it requires a bit more than a human can do on her own. I mean, you can drive an axe into it and it’ll break, but I’ll also feel it break.” Gabriel ran his fingers over the mark, tracing the symbol and feeling the protection thrumming from it. “There were thirty of these sigils in the village. One or two could maybe slip my attention, but I would have noticed all thirty of them breaking.”
Cariel had been the one to return Atis to Earth, weeks ago, after the dragon attack. He hadn’t said anything about the village being destroyed, but then again, if he had dropped Atis off away from the village so as not to risk injuring anyone, perhaps he hadn’t known.
“How can it be broken without tipping you off?”
Gabriel shrugged. “An angel probably could do it. A Seraph or Archangel, someone powerful. Maybe a spell, maybe a pagan god could have intervened and done something. A witch probably could do it-but Sorcha wasn’t a witch by any definition of that word!”
“All the survivors say she’s the one who rampaged. Killed her own boy, then all the other kids, in your name. Killed anyone who tried to stop her. They said they stuck her full of arrows and she still kept coming. Took a spear through her foot to get her to stop enough for them to subdue her. The fire was the only thing that stopped her for good.”
Gabriel curled his arms around his chest, squeezing his eyes closed and shivering. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” he whispered. “Sorcha… I promised she’d be safe. Artur…” How could this have happened? How could Sorcha have thought Gabriel wanted her to eliminate everyone?
“I had a child, Gabriel. A little girl. She was three years old.”
Melida. Gabriel remembered her. She was a cheerful baby, like her mother had been. She was the only thing that could get the grumpy Atis to laugh. “I’m sorry,” he said. “She will be in Heaven now, with her mother.”
“You think that helps!?” Atis clenched his hands into fists, ducking his head. “I don’t want this life. I don’t want to stay here with my whole family dead, the rest gone. I don’t want to live as an outcast, a wanderer. I don’t want to bury my little girl, my whole village, and somehow keep surviving.”
“I can…” Gabriel tilted his head back, looked up at the dream-sun. All of his potential vessels had been in this village. The Cherubim had attended to Vindonnus’ bloodline well, stretching it out and folding it back in on itself, kneading it with expert hands to continually create the strongest humans to house the power of an Archangel. Those who married into other clans quickly had their affinities to Gabriel wither, their children unable to accept him as his vessels. With the children dead, Vindonnus’ bloodline was endangered. If the few survivors didn’t have new children, Gabriel might never be able to take another vessel. Atis was still young enough to remarry, and he was probably the only one who didn’t believe Gabriel was an evil deity. Keeping Atis alive would be ideal, so he could continue Vindonnus’ line.
It would also be cruel, forcing the man to live this devastated life. Gabriel couldn’t be cruel, not after everything Atis had given for him. “I could remove your memories,” he offered. “I can take away the things that cause you pain, bring you to a new clan that would accept you. You can restart your life.”
“I don’t want to forget!” Atis snarled at the angel. “They were my family, you self-centered prick!”
“Or I could kill you.” Gabriel didn’t flinch at Atis’ words, knowing he deserved them. “I… I need a vessel right now. If you let me borrow your body one last time, I will take you back to Heaven with me. You’ll fall asleep, and when you wake up again, you will be in Paradise, with the souls of your daughter and your wife.” Heaven wasn’t quite like that, but most humans never realized the difference. “I would do this for you, Atis, for all you have done for me.”
“I’d be back with them?” Atis asked. “You promise?”
“I give you my word. I will personally deliver your soul into Heaven.”
Atis eyed Gabriel skeptically, as if trying to judge how much his word was worth these days, before he gave a blunt nod. “Then that’s what I want. Bury my body near my wife and daughter. I want to be with them forever.”
Next...
Notes: In this story, before Lucifer fell, his name was Sammael. He was not Lucifer in Heaven.
There is one other canon character operating under an OC name, but I wish for his identity to remain unknown.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 1,528
Chapter Summary: Before going back to Sammael, Gabriel needs a vessel. Somehow, things have gone horribly, horribly wrong.
CHAPTER 23:
Sorcha’s Demise
Sammael’s realm wasn’t technically on Earth, so Gabriel wasn’t sure if the unvesseled time limit applied there or not. He and Sammael had both been envesseled the entire time he was there. Michael agreed it was probably better to be safe than sorry, so the brothers split up to find vessels before talking to Sammael.
Gabriel landed in Sorcha’s hut, his eyes widening in shock as he looked around. The little home was a burnt out shell, devoid of all life. He veiled his grace and stepped out into the village, immediately pressing his hands over his mouth in horror. The whole settlement was dead, crumbling homes and blackened ground testifying to the tragedy that had occurred. Somewhere in the distance, someone was digging. Otherwise, there was no sound; even the birds weren’t singing. In the center were the remnants of a bonfire with a badly charred body hanging from a stake. Gabriel stepped up close and squinted at the remains, just barely recognizing Sorcha’s face beneath the damage.
“No…!” Gabriel touched the burned rope holding her in place, dissolving it and catching her body. He had promised her she would be safe. He had promised he would always look out for her and her family. Artur. Where was Artur?
The digging stopped. Gabriel hastily set Sorcha down before someone could see her body being held by an invisible force. Heavy footsteps heralded the arrival of the sole human in a fifty-mile radius. Atis.
The man scrubbed a soot-blackened arm over his sweaty forehead, looking at the bonfire and Sorcha’s corpse. He spat on the ground and scuffed his foot over the dirt. “Gabriel? You here?”
Gabriel couldn’t answer Atis directly-his voice hurt Atis’ ears, as the man was not a true vessel like Sorcha had been. He did lift Sorcha’s arm, waving it gently to catch Atis’ eye. The man scowled at him. “Fat load of good you were.”
I didn’t know… Gabriel hung his head, tucking Sorcha’s arm back over her chest. He hadn’t felt anything! Granted, the dragons had been extremely distracting, but he still would have felt the runic wards he’d placed all over this village as they were triggered from the danger. He could have stopped this. A Cherub could have stopped this, if he’d only realized…
“They’re not all dead.” Atis folded his arms, shifting his weight as he glared at Sorcha. She was apparently easier to focus on than the invisible angel sitting over her. “That witch managed to massacre all the children of the village and half the adults before they could bring her down. Survivors burned her, burned the whole place, and fled this cursed land. Went that way.” He pointed off to the east. “Found ‘em fleeing, after you dumped me off in the woods. They wouldn’t let me come, said I was just as cursed. You’re not exactly very popular right now. They think you’re some sort of evil spirit who’d just been toying with them.”
I didn’t do this! Gabriel scowled himself, getting to his feet and approaching Atis. The man had no warning before Gabriel was prodding his forehead, sending him into a deep sleep. He caught Atis’ body and laid him down gently before sketching a protective circle around him and slipping into the human’s dreams.
“Could ask a guy before you go mind-whammying him,” Atis grumbled, in the dream-village he was standing in. None of the buildings were damaged here, but they were just as empty as the real thing. “Could wait for him to give permission, you know.”
“I couldn’t exactly speak with you when you were awake.” Gabriel crossed his own arms at the man, looking around. Here, in this dream, he looked like Atis’ ancestor, Vindonnus, the first vessel Gabriel had ever taken. He was wearing linen clothing like Atis and Sorcha’s people, but otherwise, his dream-body was the same as the ancient warrior. “Atis, I had nothing to do with this.”
“Figured as much. They’d’ve killed me on the spot if they’d seen my face helping with this mess. Still. I thought you were protecting us.”
“I was!” Gabriel stomped over to the nearest house, pointing at a mark above the door. “Every single one of your homes has this protection! If there’s any sort of big danger, like a fire or murderer, these would have warned me!”
“Did they?”
“No.” Gabriel’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know why. They’ve always worked before.”
“Can they be broken? Could Sorcha have broken them?”
“They can, but it requires a bit more than a human can do on her own. I mean, you can drive an axe into it and it’ll break, but I’ll also feel it break.” Gabriel ran his fingers over the mark, tracing the symbol and feeling the protection thrumming from it. “There were thirty of these sigils in the village. One or two could maybe slip my attention, but I would have noticed all thirty of them breaking.”
Cariel had been the one to return Atis to Earth, weeks ago, after the dragon attack. He hadn’t said anything about the village being destroyed, but then again, if he had dropped Atis off away from the village so as not to risk injuring anyone, perhaps he hadn’t known.
“How can it be broken without tipping you off?”
Gabriel shrugged. “An angel probably could do it. A Seraph or Archangel, someone powerful. Maybe a spell, maybe a pagan god could have intervened and done something. A witch probably could do it-but Sorcha wasn’t a witch by any definition of that word!”
“All the survivors say she’s the one who rampaged. Killed her own boy, then all the other kids, in your name. Killed anyone who tried to stop her. They said they stuck her full of arrows and she still kept coming. Took a spear through her foot to get her to stop enough for them to subdue her. The fire was the only thing that stopped her for good.”
Gabriel curled his arms around his chest, squeezing his eyes closed and shivering. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” he whispered. “Sorcha… I promised she’d be safe. Artur…” How could this have happened? How could Sorcha have thought Gabriel wanted her to eliminate everyone?
“I had a child, Gabriel. A little girl. She was three years old.”
Melida. Gabriel remembered her. She was a cheerful baby, like her mother had been. She was the only thing that could get the grumpy Atis to laugh. “I’m sorry,” he said. “She will be in Heaven now, with her mother.”
“You think that helps!?” Atis clenched his hands into fists, ducking his head. “I don’t want this life. I don’t want to stay here with my whole family dead, the rest gone. I don’t want to live as an outcast, a wanderer. I don’t want to bury my little girl, my whole village, and somehow keep surviving.”
“I can…” Gabriel tilted his head back, looked up at the dream-sun. All of his potential vessels had been in this village. The Cherubim had attended to Vindonnus’ bloodline well, stretching it out and folding it back in on itself, kneading it with expert hands to continually create the strongest humans to house the power of an Archangel. Those who married into other clans quickly had their affinities to Gabriel wither, their children unable to accept him as his vessels. With the children dead, Vindonnus’ bloodline was endangered. If the few survivors didn’t have new children, Gabriel might never be able to take another vessel. Atis was still young enough to remarry, and he was probably the only one who didn’t believe Gabriel was an evil deity. Keeping Atis alive would be ideal, so he could continue Vindonnus’ line.
It would also be cruel, forcing the man to live this devastated life. Gabriel couldn’t be cruel, not after everything Atis had given for him. “I could remove your memories,” he offered. “I can take away the things that cause you pain, bring you to a new clan that would accept you. You can restart your life.”
“I don’t want to forget!” Atis snarled at the angel. “They were my family, you self-centered prick!”
“Or I could kill you.” Gabriel didn’t flinch at Atis’ words, knowing he deserved them. “I… I need a vessel right now. If you let me borrow your body one last time, I will take you back to Heaven with me. You’ll fall asleep, and when you wake up again, you will be in Paradise, with the souls of your daughter and your wife.” Heaven wasn’t quite like that, but most humans never realized the difference. “I would do this for you, Atis, for all you have done for me.”
“I’d be back with them?” Atis asked. “You promise?”
“I give you my word. I will personally deliver your soul into Heaven.”
Atis eyed Gabriel skeptically, as if trying to judge how much his word was worth these days, before he gave a blunt nod. “Then that’s what I want. Bury my body near my wife and daughter. I want to be with them forever.”
Next...