Wings, Flings, and Demon Kings || COMPLETE

Chapter 7: Home, Sweet Home

November 28, 2006

My apartment

6:15 P.M.

Excuse that minor overreaction from my last entry.

I'm calm now.

Very calm.

Utterly, totally, 100% calm.

6:17 P.M.

To clarify, Archangel Ramiel does not know I kissed a demon.

He does, however, know a demon visited the building where my orientation took place.

Apparently angels and demons have a tacit agreement not to visit high rises at the same time, and Azerath wasn't supposed to be in that particular building at all. It caused a great hullabaloo in Heaven. Not that Ramiel mentioned Azerath by name. He just called him "a nefarious demon." And asked me a lot of questions. "Did you have any interactions with a demon while you were going to your orientation? Did you happen to notice a demonic aura in the building?" Stuff like that.

Which was what led to my earlier panic.

But I should tell this story properly, in chronological order, so that it makes some sort of sense.

6:27 P.M.

After calling in sick to the Youth Program on Friday, I spent most of the afternoon brooding over what Azerath had revealed to me about his life. Eventually, I concluded the best thing I can do for him is stay away. It would hurt his reputation further if his demon superiors knew he'd been associating with an angel.

Which means I must never call him again, and I must definitely never visit him. It also means I can never tell anyone in Heaven about him. Heaven and Hell communicate along diplomatic channels, and I couldn't live with myself if Azerath got hurt due to something I said.

I should have felt proud of myself for coming to such a mature and rational decision. But part of me wonders if I'm actually being self-serving. Because keeping quiet about Azerath also means I'll never have to tell Archangel Ramiel all the bad things that I've done.

To make up for it, I've decided I'll be on my best behavior for the next 1000 years. I'll take every remedial course, I won't grumble, I definitely won't roll my eyes when Archangel Ramiel says something I disagree with, and I'll do all my work diligently, without complaining once!

And I'll work as hard as possible to save souls on Earth.

Maybe if I do, they'll let me come to Earth more often.

And, after another decade or two, it'll be safe to check on Azerath again.

6:37 P.M.

Not that I want to visit him again.

Just a quick check-in to make sure he's okay.

6:40 P.M.

I had worked myself into such a dither of guilt and exhaustion on Friday, I almost forgot about my visit with Archangel Ramiel. I might have missed it completely, if not for the phone call from Body Distribution at 7 A.M. Saturday, reminding me I needed to turn in my body before I took the Elevators up to Heaven for my visit.

I sprinted to catch the bus. I was in such a tizzy trying to drop off my body, I almost clocked poor Angel Foretti in the eye with my paperwork. Once he removed the seal to my mana, I re-assumed my incorporeal form, said goodbye to my body—I'd grown fond of her over the past five days, and it was an effort to let her go, even just for the weekend—and hurried to catch one of the Heavenly Elevators.