Until Next Time The Angel Chronicles Book 1 (9 page)

CHAPTER TEN

Daniel slept. Tossing and turning in his small bed, he tried to block out the familiar harsh words filtering under his door. The sun had risen, but his mind remained dark and unclear. He knew that the previous evening had to have been a nightmare. It had to be, for nothing in his soul could fathom that kind of rage for another human being.

The sound of thunder blocked out the drunken footsteps of his attacker until it was too late. Daniel felt a knife go through his shoulder as he was blinded by pain. He’d thought a bolt of lightning had actually struck him where he stood, until he saw warm, sticky blood running down his chest.

He quickly realized that he was still alive before Billy struck again. In a flash, Daniel turned and grabbed for the knife without thinking. The blade sliced through his hand but he’d kept possession of it before pushing Billy to the ground.

Tears ran from his eyes, as he brushed the angry wound on his hand against his forehead. The skin had already started to mend, and he thanked God for this strange, quick-healing gift, as the violent scar began to disappear before his eyes.

His soul hurt. He knew he could’ve done things differently. When he’d left the pub, Daniel had seen Billy stumble down the hill and head towards the village.

After Daniel had made sure that Liz and Faith were safe and the braggart wasn’t coming back, he forgot his promise to Liz and trudged off home. He knew that Liz would want him to protect the women of the town, if need be, but Daniel didn’t want to. After dealing with his mother, he was a long way from standing up for any female. Except Liz, of course, because she was the girl he loved.

Liz had told him long ago, during one of their strange and wonderful talks, that she believed their relationship thrived because they were kindred spirits.

Daniel remembered how ecstatic he felt, believing in his heart that Liz was finally confessing her romantic feelings for him. But that wasn’t the case. Kindred spirits were anything but lovers, she’d said, squashing his hopes into dust. Liz said that kindred spirits were powerful partnerships. So powerful, unfortunately, that even though they could join together to help other people, they would slowly kill each other if they even attempted to have a romantic life together.

Daniel had decided then that he would keep his distance, but he wouldn’t rest until he could find a way to turn his kindred spirit into the soulmate he needed her to be.

The painful images returned; thoughts of darkness—of murder—flashed through his mind.

“You’re goin’ die, boy. You should have never picked a fight with a real man,” Billy had sneered.

Daniel had watched, confused, as the man smiled like he was about to claim a victory.

Then…he’d heard her. Her presence was like a bright light beaming through the darkness of his evil thoughts, but fear swept through him when he realized that Billy had drawn a gun from behind his back.

In a flash, he’d moved behind Billy pushing the knife into his back with all the strength he possessed. It was Billy for Liz—no questions, no guilt.

“What’s the matter with you? Do you hear me? You are nothing! You’re a failure!” His mother screamed in the kitchen at what was most likely the bowed head and slumped shoulders of his father.

Daniel placed the pillow over his head. He was confused. He was filled with hatred and love; the emotions were so strong that he didn’t know which, if either, he could deny. “Help me, Father. I have sinned,” he whispered into his pillow. “At least…I think I have.”

With his words came the familiar white mist. It settled over Daniel’s soul as it sent him bursting through the door of his favorite room.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Home

Matt stopped running and opened his eyes, trying to adjust to the bright orange and red marble that now surrounded him. His breathing was labored; his heart beat out of control.

“Relax. Take a minute,” his teacher said while resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Your breath needs to catch up with your soul.”

Gabriel placed his sword on the stool and waved his hand toward the ceiling. Immediately, the brilliant fiery colors relaxed into a soft, amber glow.

Matt’s head raced. Pictures flew through his mind at the speed of light.
Where am I?
His chest was tight; human fear had replaced the carefree humor that usually filled his soul.

Gabriel’s strong, protective voice filled the room, “It’ll be okay. There’s no pain here—no anger, no terror, no wrath—just me. Look around, it’ll come back to you.”

Matt carefully scanned the training room. Shields and weapons covered every marble wall. Each one shone with a luster that made them seem almost magical. He blinked rapidly, watching as each individual weapon slowly transformed before his eyes; a sword changed into a scythe while a wand turned into a jousting stick.

Stools of every shape and size, metal and cushioned, were lined neatly against the wall, and a large trap door was embedded in the floor. A metal latch concealed a mysterious room under his feet. Matt could feel a sense of warmth beneath him as memories raced into his mind. This was his favorite place, and below him was the battlefield where he’d trained.

He remembered that day long ago, after completing his training with all the masters of the Council, when he’d been given the option to choose his path. It’d been so hard. He loved the warm words of Saint Mark, the charmer, who sat behind his big desk made of clouds. Mark fascinated him. He was the ultimate muse. He brought about creativity, and taught the greatest artistic minds ever sent down. If a soul wished to have the lithe fingers of a pianist, the lovely voice of a virtuoso, or the dramatic talents of an actor, Mark was the one they went to.

The freeness and tranquility of Francis’ field had also appealed to him. Taking care of the animals, talking to them and learning their culture, was a truly joyful path. They were the only creatures born with no regrets. They lived by a black and white code, and their souls were given with no questions asked. They simply believed that life included wisdom, procreation and certain death at the hungry fangs or sharpened talons of a natural enemy.

Matt even loved the angelic hard work that Michael taught, but had been afraid of taking that path. He liked the grandness of angels, but shuddered at the horrible decisions they had to make at a moment’s notice—to save or to smite. They were the race loved by many, but they were destined to live through other people—never having a life of their own.

His soul cried out as he thought of Emily. He knew she’d chosen the path of the angels long ago, but Matt always held out hope that she would one day be allowed a life—and a love of her own.

The last path was with Gabriel—the path of the warrior. They were the fighters, learning how to solve or stop the battles fought by humans in the strange world below. Matt still felt proud that he’d chosen this path. Yet, somehow, back in this room, he longed for the time when humans were only images shown to him on a strangely colored box. It was too real now. He was in a world where his belief seemed to waver. Split second decisions had to be made. Perhaps over time, it would be a price that he wouldn’t be willing to pay. The warrior life required the least emotion in order to calculate methodically and without remorse, the final ending for humans who were chosen to leave.

“Interesting that you picked that one,” Gabriel said.

Matt stared down at the weapon he now grasped in his hand. The hilt was plain silver, and the blade was double-edged. Each side offered a line of serrated teeth that reminded him of Francis’ beloved shark.

“Life is like that down there, isn’t it?” Gabriel asked.

“I don’t know what questions to ask,” Matt said shaking his head. “I think I’ve done something really wrong. I chose…wrong, and almost killed my…my…”

“Friend?”

Matt shook his head. “No, I have much stronger feelings for her than that. I don’t seem to make sense around her. My heart beats so hard inside me when I look at her that I can’t think straight. I can’t figure out what’s right and what’s wrong.”

Gabriel nodded. “I’m always amazed how things can become so jumbled so quickly in the human mind. After all, you left us only yesterday.”

Tears began to fill Matt’s eyes.

“You took a man’s life,” Gabriel spoke clearly, but his voice held no trace of anger or contempt.

“Yes.”

“He deserved this?”

“Yes.”

“It was self-defense? He struck first?”

“Yes.”

“He would’ve killed someone else?”

“Definitely.”

“But you’re questioning your decision?”

“Yes.” Matt sat down on the cushioned stool across from his teacher. “The man was nothing. I knew in my heart that I should’ve followed him to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone else, but the rage inside my heart wouldn’t let me. And I have
no
idea where this rage is coming from.”

“From inside your soul, no doubt.”

“But my soul was made up here, and I had no rage before,” Matt said as he patted the sword. “I loved everything, and everyone,” he continued as Emily’s face entered his mind.

“Matt, creation is a strange thing,” Gabriel said as he balanced his spectacles on the bridge of his nose. “I can’t explain it to you, because I don’t know how it’s done. I certainly never created another living being, but I’m in awe of the ability. The fear in your soul doesn’t come from the beings or teachings up here, though. That I do know.”

“Then where does it come from?”

“Your anger—all anger—comes from the people and choices that surround you. The leftover memories stored in the brain of the shell you live in, and the bitterness left in the heart that beats inside that body, are things that were left for your soul to deal with. The shell is inanimate—simple flesh and bone. But this boy named Daniel…his eyes, the eyes you now look through, witnessed horrible things. His brain registered mean and bitter thoughts. And his heart, once romantic, ended up crushed in the harsh environment of his home. These things you carry with you. When his soul left its shell it was done by his own hand,” Gabriel grimaced. “You were placed in him to carry out what he was born to do. He chose to leave, but the shell—mind, heart and brain—were destined to do other things. He simply needed the soul of a warrior to get it done.”

“This person is not me then? I’m not responsible for what he does?” Matt felt hope build in his soul.

Gabriel shook his head, and sighed. “You’re entirely responsible for everything you do. Your soul, everyone’s soul, is
who
you are. The rest, although in constant change, is just dressing. You’re responsible for your decisions. You’re responsible for the lives you save, and the lives you take.”

“If all things come back to you—like Mark used to tell us in class—then won’t my life be taken because I took his?”

Gabriel shrugged. “I can’t tell you what your future holds. All I can tell you is that our Creator expects nothing in return. He isn’t an entity who wants anyone to fear Him. One of the things I hear when eavesdropping upon the righteous are the words—
He will come again to judge the living and the dead.
”

Gabriel paused and smiled. “Break this down as any analytical warrior would. First, we know that He never left. They may have lost Him, but He never went anywhere. Second, you know as well as I that He doesn’t judge. He might scold, perhaps, as all good fathers do. He might show disappointment, but He will always give out hugs whether we request them or not. He will
always
believe in
everyone
unconditionally. And that’s what matters the most.”

Matt’s tears ran down his cheeks. “What if I can’t do this?”

“You must take the good with the bad.”

“What does that mean?”

Gabriel grinned. “I got it from Francis. A little wisdom that he hopes will catch on someday.”

Matt sighed and placed the weapon back on its hook. “I guess He doesn’t need to judge me, I seem to be doing that all by myself.”

“Forgive yourself, lad. Billy is safe now. His soul has been returned to a place of love and light. He has asked for forgiveness and it was granted, so he’ll get back to the way he was meant to be before choosing the wrong path in life. His soul has been given another chance. Everyone gets that chance if they want it—even you.”

Gabriel put his arm around his student’s shoulder. “I know being judge, jury and executioner is difficult, but it’s the job you chose to do and you must complete it with the courage that’s in your soul. You and Emily were born to save many, Matt. Now go back there and do it.”

Matt hugged his teacher. The warmth of friendship helped ease the chill taking over his heart.

“There are no wrong choices, Matt—only the chance to make them again someday. Now, since you’re here, perhaps you would like to challenge me?”

Matt snorted, as Gabriel shed his spectacles and reached up for the sword above him. Steel crashed against the metal wand that mysteriously appeared in Matt’s hands. The confused warrior began to feel like himself again as he waged battle on the innocent field of his youth.