Paradiso

Part VIII - Premonizione 2

Sael stood in their chamber, perfectly still and dazed. Though they appeared calm, they were in terrible turmoil within. This wasn't rare for the seraphim; they had lived lifetimes upon lifetimes, suffered loss and guilt, seen tragedies play out again and again—almost too many times to remember. Often, they would appear to be dozing off or lost in a daydream; in reality, memories of horrible disasters, past and future, were flitting behind their dusky eyes.

This time, however, was more dire than ever before. A premonition had lingered in her mind for the last three years; a premonition of events to come in the Apocalypse, the end of all existence. She hadn't been surprised, then, when the Prince of Light had summoned all of the seraphims in Heaven to his chamber.

Her head began to spin as she walked in. She had managed to deaden her dread about this all, until she walked through the doors. The Prince's grim frown only confirmed her fears; the Prince never frowned. Not in front of others, at least.

"My honourable council," he began. "I am terribly grieved to say that the beginning of the Almighty King's prophecy of the exile Queen's destruction of our world has already come true. We find ourselves, already, in it's second verse; the tensions between me and my brother, Lucifer, Prince of Darkness, have... regrettably provoked war between Heaven and Hell. The Apocalypse is coming." The world seemed to be spiralling down around her as he continued. She was hearing his words without listening; she had sunk into a nightmare of memory. Demons killing angels, angels killing demons—angels killing angels. They danced deathly waltzes, falling and burning like flower petals singed by a catastrophic forest fire that raged around them. It was almost enough to break through the haze of her eyes. Almost enough to put her full horror on display.

When the meeting was adjourned, she tried to slip out in silence. The Prince stopped her, however. "Sael," Uriel had said, "are you alright? I mean, of course, the Apocalypse is bound to cause a little worry—alright, probably a lot—but you seemed... shut off. More than usual." Concern creased his brow. Only he would be worried about something this small at a time like this, Sael thought.

She met his eyes, bright as yellow stars. "What do you mean?"

He tried to find the words, lips pursed together. He couldn't. "You know what I mean." They did; though they rarely got the chance to speak freely, Uriel was probably the closest thing to a friend that Sael had, and vice versa. They had much in common, despite their differences in disposition: Sael was quiet, though they had everything to say; Uriel was forced to be talkative, though he could never find the words he was looking for (at least in casual conversation, such as this). They had this in common, then: never knowing what to say. There were much darker things as well, though: loss, loneliness, centuries on centuries of trauma. The list went on.

Their gaze never wavered from his, but their focus did. It glanced inward for a just moment before recoiling away in fear from what they saw. The Prince noticed. "It's a premonition. Isn't it?" he had asked, voice hushed.

"Yes..."

"What did you see?"

What did you see? That question brought Sael back to the present, out of their memories, as the door to their chamber opened. Nervous footsteps tip-toed past the threshold. "H... um... hello? Your grace?" their guest stuttered. "You wanted to see me?"

Sael remained silent for some time. "Come in closer, please." After a moment of hesitation, those nervous steps approached them. They turned slowly to observe the guest; pink hair and wings, dark and freckled cheeks, young and round and short (but, of course, not shorter than themself). This was Zanda. She was just how they had seen her in their premonition. But, then again, of course she was.

"Um..." Zanda said, breaking the silence. "Your grace?"

After a pause, they thought of what to say. "What have you learned over the last three years?"

The guardian angel seemed at a loss for words, unsure of how to answer their question. "W-well, I- I've learned a lot," she said. Then she gathered her thoughts; something not quite like confidence—courage, maybe?—gave a solidity to her expression. It seemed practised, like she'd been taught to trust herself like this. She took a breath. "I've learned to talk to people a lot better. I'd like to think, anyway." She nervously giggled to herself. "But I... I'm not sure if I know people any better. I'm not sure if I've really learned how to tell whether or not people are good enough to be worthy. I still kind of rely on Doelle for that. Er- Sir Doelle." The familiarity with which she had addressed her leader piqued Sael's interest. Last they had checked, the gap in experience between them had caused bitter annoyance on the mentor's part, but if Zanda was talking of him so freely... perhaps some kinship had formed between them. The idea only made Sael ache more strongly.

"Doelle is very discerning," they stated, "when it comes to others." Fragments of their premonition played again in their memory.

"I've noticed that," Zanda said. "He's... like that with a lot of things. Always sure of others."

"Not himself, though."

Zanda looked perplexed and a little uneasy. People tended to look that way when Sael spoke; it was nothing unusual. For that reason, they stayed silent, falling back into their memories. They began again after a long pause. "Did you ever study the King's prophecy in detail? Or just in general?"

"Um," she stuttered. She had been caught off guard again. "Just in general."

"It's coming soon," they said, their voice barely a whisper now. "Plagues of the flesh and the soul have swept the world; wars of the mind and body have raged stronger because of it; a famine of morality and love has followed. Plague, war, famine—you remember them, don't you?" Fear seeped into Zanda's expression like night creeping into day. "The human souls fleeing to Hell—it has opened again the oldest wounds shared between the Princes of Light and Darkness. A great conflict of the Afterlives is upon us."

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, voice wavering.

Sael's pale gaze focused absolutely on her. "I have foreseen that you will be a great hero in the midst of it, Zanda."

The fear in her face overflowed into horrified distress. Her breathing quickened and her eyes widened. "T... there must be a mistake, your grace!" she stuttered. "I'm not- I can't-"

"You must start deciding for yourself," Sael continued. She had barely heard Zanda. "Doelle will be a trustworthy guide no longer. You will fall with him if you do not begin to find your own way. You will fall. You will fall..." Her voice died away, her focus left her. Her eyes dimmed again.

Zanda stumbled a step backward, and then another. "T... t-thank you, your grace," she said weakly. Without a word more, she ran from the room.

Though Zanda hadn't seen who it was, Sael could sense that she hadn't been the only one to hear what they had spoken of.