Garder mon Ame

Chapter Nine: To be an Angel

They that love beyond the world

Cannot be separated by it.

Death is but crossing the world,

As friends do the seas;

They live in one another still.

~William Penn

The sun dappled the streets of Jerusalem in golden light, illuminating the smiling surfaces of angels as they strolled about, heads tilted to the sky to enjoy the warmth. The incessant buzzing of the bees was carried on a gentle wind, one that also transported the fragrance of the colorful fauna and teased the nose with the aroma of baccate and flowering plants alike. Anxieties melted with the relaxing of shoulders in the tranquil milieu.

It was odd, Cyra thought, as he drank in the atmosphere, how the city's personality so opposed its leader's. Often people are emotionally tied to their head, filling their souls with politics and sensations regarding foreign policies and the next tax cut. The boss is what ties together all of the smaller laborers, uniting with a common, familiar face.

"What is the matter with Gabriel?" Cyra asked as he, again, followed Emery down the streets, a goal not yet proclaimed.

The Warrior's head was slightly bowed, hiding the fire that burned in his black eyes. "Whatever do you mean?" He clipped the words, as though they were an unwanted taste on his tongue.

"He seems a bit depressed."

"When suffering from severe mental fatigue or any other ailment that holds judgment in captivity, one should not be discriminated against," Emery said with narrowed eyes.

"I'm not discriminating. I was just wondering why he seemed so short tempered." Again, he said this without any scorn. Cyra was the master of the thick monotone in which a child speaks out uncomfortable truths.

"Weren't you the one who said that character shouldn't be based off of a short evaluation?"

"I thought you said that a brief assessment was all one had."

Emery huffed with annoyance. "You are an angel now, Padge. Do you have wings sprouting out of your back or not?"

"I do, but I don't see what that has to do with-"

"Gabriel is your boss," Emery said, cutting Cyra's sentence off short. "You will show him as much respect as you can muster, and you must never again talk back to him like you did."

"But sir, your dialogue wasn't exactly laced with patience either."

Emery turned to Cyra, black eyes thrashing with disbelief, and his chin bent upwards in an impressive display of authority. "I am Gabriel's most trusted angel. I have devoted the entirety of my being to him. I do everything for him."

"I guess you're right," Cyra said. "Friends and close advisors can afford to be judgmental."

Emery sighed, shaking his head slightly. "The benefits of this job aren't enough to be dealing with you, Padge."

"Sorry, sir. I was just wondering out loud."

"You can wonder inside your head too, you know. It's called thinking."

"Yes, sir. I know, sir. Sorry, sir."

Another characteristic eye roll met Cyra's babblings, and any other words were left unsaid, forsaken to dissipate in the idle heat.