Disappear: Into Shadow

- CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR -

Azrael knew of the Seraphim's desire to meet. Sataniel's warning of what would transpire in such a meeting left the Watcher hesitant to answer their summons. Azrael still had many realms to chart and did not wish to be removed from its responsibilities or be cast down into the Hellish void like its brethren.

Returning to the world Azrael found its love for the life flourishing there renewed. With the passing of the days, the sunsets and bright mornings, Azrael listened to the quietest noises filling the stillest places of the world. The Watcher then traveled the busy streets of the settlements, towns and cities built by humanity.

Floating in a quiet garden of one such city, Azrael watched people walking past. All were oblivious to both the presence of the Watcher and a brown cricket in the undergrowth.

The insect lay tangled in an invisible web woven the previous evening by the black legs of an approaching spider. The thin strands hung between the large fronds of a young palm tree's leaves. The yellow contrast of the spider's body and its black legs suspended between the green leaves were the only evidence of its presence. After the spider leapt onto the cricket, Azrael's attention drifted about the life inside the garden. Mingling with the sounds of the cricket being wrapped into the tightly woven cocoon it would never escape, Azrael heard the red and black bodies of ants scuttling about the ground. Foraging, the tan lizards cried out into the air buzzing with a multitude of winged life. Azrael was aware of every living thing in and around the hanging gardens.

"Ge-ko! Ge-ko!" The lizards called.

"Gecko," said Azrael.

"Ge-Ko!" One of the lizards replied.

Cicada song dropped from the canopy of the garden's trees. Their shrill thunder was punctuated by the whoop, whoop, whoop-whoop-whoop-whoop-whoop-whoop of large black birds sitting in the interwoven branches of the tall trees. Listening to the creaking of the boughs, warm winds pushed against them, rustling the leaves.

The world was alive about Azrael, its rhythms penetrating the Watcher's being. It was a part of that song too. Although detached and unseen by the living until each creature's tune sang its last note, Azrael was indeed a part of the melody. It brought new voices and verses to replace those whose time had run out. Azrael saw the cycle could not work without its presence. It brought change and balance.

The Watcher was neither daunted by this realization nor filled with a heightened sense of importance. Azrael had thought for many centuries about the true depths of its responsibilities. Between every birth and death, between the continual notations and recordings, the Watcher moved unseen through the living morass of the world, contemplating itself. Now, only now, did it understand.

The compiled records and wisdom it had recorded was growing exponentially. Azrael had seen a great many things, but with such knowledge and experience came questions. There was a hollow in the midst of all that knowledge and the number of questions was becoming large. Perhaps their answers were the last pieces of a tantalizing puzzle that remained out of reach. Would a last piece answer all of the Watcher's questions or, would it only reveal a whole new pile of unarranged pieces?

Azrael had learned from every creature on the world; and, especially from other Watchers. Observing how they blended into the scenery of the world, they avoided detection by both mankind and angelic messengers prowling the clouds. Since Azrael returned from its meeting with Sataniel, the Watcher found flights of Angels perpetually circling the world, rarely approaching. They preferred to soar above the cloud cover. If Sataniel's words were true, those Angels probably found the clouds too close to the ground for comfort.