| Logs |
2009 September 06
| When The Bough Breaks |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Bough Logs |
Fifth Movement, First Duet
Once all is said and done, a week has passed of intensive training from Ravana -- not too intensive, else Asmodeus and the other Mazikin will be suspicious. But at the end of the time, Ravana has taught them what he could about the summoning sorceries that he can, and prepared them as well as possible. If the mortals so choose, now is the time to attempt to summon Janiel.
Mikal has coordinated with Jareth and Ravana, having lost most of her twitchiness around the huge tiger lord after the intense effort accorded to the training. They have a closed pavilion of their own, tucked away someplace inconspicuous, and the inside has been carefully purified, while the floor is of smooth, clean-swept dirt. Various warding circles have been laid: one to keep snoopy outsiders from noticing anything and to hold everything inside the pavilion in place. Another is in place to hold the angel, and a final smaller one is there to protect the summoners should the angel restraint break in any fashion. Various symbols are carefully inscribed in the floor as well, and different substances -- including a great deal of salt -- have been used to seal the inscriptions and make sure everything is properly in place. Candles flare silently in a chandelier overhead, and several jars and bottles are neatly arranged in the summoners' circle, waiting for the actual ceremony. Mikal looks around with a thoughtful frown, checking to see if anything is at all smudged or amiss -- lives will depend on this, after all.
Jareth practices hard, somehow feeling it to be important not to put the me to use while practicing the summonings. After all, it would be a bad thing to bring Janiel down on them before they are ready. He has felt curiously ecstatic this whole time and quite peaceful as he helped his mate and their teacher lay down the circles.
Ravana makes a once-around through the ceremonial area, nodding in approval. "Excellent," he says, somberly. "You've done very well. This should be sufficient to summon and bind an sceptre of Janiel's power."
Mikal wipes the back of her arm against her forehead and sighs softly -- this kind of focus can be tiring, after all. "Good. Do you think it could hold Azrael, or will we need to keep training even more?"
Ravana shakes his head, but he does take half a moment to think. "Not right now. Azrael is much more powerful than Janiel, and I would suggest that you 'practice' on lesser sceptres first, and build up your confidence and skill. Right now you are at the very beginning, the entry level, of summoning, and Azrael is a would-be Throne of Death."
Mikal nods quietly, pushing her slightly sweaty curls back from her face as she looks around. Her voice is soft but determined, "That's all right. We'll get there -- little by little." She looks up at Jareth and smiles, her stern-eyed gaze softening, "Do you have your list of questions for Janiel ready, love?"
Raphael curls up relaxedly around the small pile of goods in the summoners' circle. He's wearing his "salt collar," and Mikal's bow and arrows lie next to him.
The part of Jareth that remembers being a deity is full ready for this confrontation with an angel. The part, however, that is a goatherd and bard is anxious, hoping that all their preparations have been enough.
Ravana nods, taking in a deep breath. "Very well," he says, with a small smile. "Remember what I have taught you and you will do fine. Remember that this is a battle of wills between you both and the sceptre. They are very devoted, which gives them strength, but it is that devotion that is their weakness. At the same time, do not expect Janiel to be as torn in their duty as Moroni was; they have not gone through what Moroni has.
"Now. If you are ready, then we should begin. Do you wish me here, or present but out of sight?""
Jareth says, "I believe out of sight. Though within distance to help."
Mikal looks up at the tall rakshasa and smiles faintly, "If you stay, your guards outside can deflect any nosy Mazikin with suggestion of sexual congress on-going in here. You can also continue our training, this being our first time. I would prefer you stay, if you and Jarth do not mind. Not to hold our hands, please, but to say something if we start to make a mistake." She turns her bright gaze to her companion, "Do you mind if we do that instead?"
Jareth laughs softly, "Ahh, I had not thought of that. Yes, that would make sense. They do after all see you as rather a lecher."
Mikal giggles at that, her eyes sparkling as she turns to pick up the athame and the small bowl she has ready to close the circles once everyone is in place. She takes a slow, deep series of breaths, her eyes closed as she centers herself... then she straightens in silent, proud strength, murmuring without opening her eyes, "I am ready when you all are. Let me know, please." Raphael makes a small murfled noise of agreement.
Jareth steps into the center circle and takes a moment to lay a hand on Mikal's shoulder. "I'm ready, love."
Ravana nods, moving off to the side, and folding his arms across his chest, watchful and alert and paying close attention to everything that is going on.
Mikal smiles with quiet happiness over her shoulder at Jareth, then takes a moment to make sure all four of them are clearly within the summoners' circle. Another moment to make sure all the lines and symbols are bright and clear... then she steps forward and closes the circle with the athame and a bit of salt shaken from the bowl. As she does so she murmurs softly to herself, focusing her concentration and her will. When she feels the energy wall shimmer warmly into place about them all, she straightens with a small, satisfied nod. That was the last circle to be completed. Now she settles cross-legged in the circle's center, leaning against Raphael and pulling out a scroll. She reviews it one last time, then closes her eyes and turns her face upwards.
The words that flow from her lips are a language she doesn't speak, but she incants the spell taught to her by Ravana to increase will; the one to decrease will is already woven into the smaller angel's circle prepared previously. Once she's finished it she takes a breath and a sip of water -- then straightens and takes a moment to focus. This is the hardest part: the actual summoning. Slowly, carefully, clearly, and commandingly, Mikal intones the spellcraft portion of the summoning -- which she knows is there mostly to help her focus her concentration to a laser-like precision -- and then, sharp and precise as broken glass, the goddess-in-a-woman's-body snaps out the syllables of Janiel's True Name. She takes a breath, and adds in quietly confident command, "He who is also known as Janiel: appear before us here now!"
As she speaks, there is a faint rippling in the air over the summoning circle, a play of light that becomes more and more intense as the summoning reaches its climax. With the final words, spoken in the voice of a goddess, the light coalesces, and for a brief, brief moment, some hint of the angel's true form takes shape. And then six wings unfold, the sexless body arching as Janiel appears, then relaxes somewhat, looking terribly, terribly surprised. Then their eyes fall on Mikal and Jareth and Raphael, and they narrow. "You," Janiel says in a tone dripping with fury. The angel tries to lunge at them, but can't move more than a few centimeters from the position that it appeared in, hovering over the ground. With a snarl, then a louder shriek, Janiel throws themselves against the binding circle.
Mikal murmurs calmly, "Yes, us. We wi-" then she falls silent, waiting for the angel to finish its temper tantrum before she performs the binding. She'd like it to hear what it is being bound to, so it doesn't accidentally hurt itself later, after all. She tilts her head thoughtfully, regarding the angel's true form with scholarly detachment.
Jareth watches silently as the angel struggles inside the binding of the circle, examining the beautiful form curiously. Being who and what he is, the idea of a creature without gender is a little confusing and almost perverse to him.
After several minutes of Janiel being very put off, they eventually tire, and, panting in both exertion and frustration, shoulders slumped, peering at Mikal from under their bangs, Janiel grumbles. "How did you do this to me? How did you learn my True Name? What do you want?"
Mikal smiles quietly as the angel finally stops struggling, "There we go. First I would like two promises from you, on your True Name. The first promise is that you will speak of this entire time together to no one at all, except for those of us present, and that only if we initiate the conversation. Second I wish you to promise on your True Name that you will do no harm to any of us present, at any point in time, nor will you incite others to harm us."
Without even willing to do so -- that much is clear in their eyes -- Janiel blurts out, "On my True Name, I so promise." They clamp a hand over their mouth, looking shocked and horrified. "What in the Nether have you done?!" they demand.
Jareth's voice is soft, "Our homework is what we've done."
Mikal says quietly, "I summoned you, Janiel. That is what I have done. I tell you this truly, however: I am sorry we must go to these lengths, and I wish there was not enmity between us." She takes a deep breath, grateful for the support of the others, then nods to Jareth, "Ask now, love. This is your sphere."
Jareth nods to Mikal's words, "She speaks true. We wish there did not have to be enmity between our people and yours. Or between Ravana's people and your own. We wish things to be whole again and healthy. And from you, we need some information."
Mikal quietly takes another drink, then eats a few nuts for the energy. She suspects they're going to get good at this out of necessity... but this certainly isn't easy.
Jareth decides to tackle the question of the Metatron first, "What do you know about the Metatron? We have found out that it holds a secret and has a different name. Do you know that name? Or the True Names of any of your other compatriots?"
Janiel's wings seem to bristle, as they try to make themselves look larger than Janiel actually is. "Sorry?! This is a war, and you say you are sorry? Do not insult me! What is it, then? You have become lapdogs to the raksasha simply because of our encounter? and now you are attempting to exact revenge? What game are you playing? How did you learn of my True Name?!"
Despite their rancor, Janiel falls silent as Jareth speaks, their mouth working and clearly wanting to lash out verbally at them. But instead, much to their growing horror, they find themselves answering candidly. "I... I know Metatron only by that name. I do not know the True Names of any angels who still live." Their eyes widen, and they snap, "I will not be party to you seeking the True Names of other angels!"
Mikal murmurs softly, "You do not have to believe us. But yes, we are sorry." She sighs, then adds, "That is all I can say of that."
Jareth shakes his head gently, "I'm afraid you will, Janiel. We do not wish to harm you. We came to the rakshasa for help because your Architect is trying to force a homogeny that is not natural. The joy of mortality is in the diversity. Without that diversity, life stagnates and from there, life is snuffed out."
Mikal is quite surprised to hear Janiel knows no other True Names. That says to her either the angels are extraordinarily paranoid even amongst each other, or they make no friends amongst their own ranks... or Janiel is considered too foolish or stupid or reckless or whatever, to risk being in a close friendship with. Poor angel!
Poor, lonely angel.
Janiel clenches his hands into fists. "You would seek to debate ethics with me? Without order there is nothing. And the Architect brings order."
Jareth has an urge to reach out and touch the obviously horrified Sceptre, but he restrains himself. "We also need to know what information your people have about Raven and what would make Azrael back off. And if Azrael is on this crusade of his own accord or if your Architect set him on her."
Janiel, with visible effort, shakes his head, and moves as if cringing from them. "N-no. No! I refuse! I will... not... speak of such things to mortals! Just... just accept that Azrael will guide you to your hereafter properly!"
Mikal lifts her head and says sharply, "Speak, angel. Speak truth -- only and all of it -- to us. The less you fight us, the less you will harm yourself. Answer the questions."
Jareth shakes his head, "No, we do not wish to debate with you at all. And I will not accept that from Azrael. Azrael does not have the best for mortals as his goal. He has simply the orders he has been given. You will tell us what will make him back off. Order does not have to mean stricture."
Janiel actually cringes at the force in Mikal's voice. After several moments, he says, weakly, "Azrael... Azrael has been given instructions from Metatron personally... to become the Throne of Death by whatever means possible,"
Jareth shakes his head quietly, "Janiel, do you serve the Metatron or do you serve El-Amon-Re?"
Mikal nods silently at that, her glance at Jareth grimly worried. Thank goodness Raven had been there, or she'd have lost her sweetheart!
Jareth says, "Have you even spoken to your Architect since this foolish war started? Or have you simply been assured by Metatron that what he says is the word of your god? "
There is some element of either defiance or pride. "I serve El-Amon-Re with all of my vitality!" At Jareth's question, he collapses in on himself. "I was created after the War started. I have seen him once, upon my birth. He is... far too... involved with matters of greater import." Even, or perhaps with, the binding, the assertion sounds hollow. "But the Metatron is his vizier, he speaks with the voice of El-Amon-Re."
Jareth is warming to his subject, "What do you even know about the Metatron? In the beginning, El-Amon-Re was a strict but loving god, protecting his people against the ravages of the desert, but since this war the protection has gone by the wayside to become control." Passion laces the bard's words, "I can hear the doubt in your voice, Janiel. I can feel your desire to do good with all the strength and power molded into your being. But this war you wage does nothing but harm. What good is it to destroy the beings you were created to protect? What happened to the love of a Father for his children?"
Mikal smiles faintly as she starts to hear the beautiful ringing tones entering Jareth's voice. She closes her eyes, listening with pleasure.
Jareth lets the hurt and sadness of Lilith creep into his pleading. The ache of a lover watching the one they love becoming something different. Something dark and destructive. "Janiel, child, it is noble that you wish to serve your god, your Father, with such devotion and passion. But does it serve him to carry out murder and destruction in his name? When you do not know if it is even his will?"
Janiel says, firmly but in wavering voice. "No! No, I... I will not betray the Architect! Do not ask me to! I refuse, I refuse, I refuse, I refuse!" The angel's voice borders on the histrionic.
Jareth says, "We ask you not to betray him, Janiel, but to help us save him."
"You want to fight him! You want to destroy all that he's worked for, everything he's trying to do to protect the universe from the Aqal!"
Jareth shakes his head, "I wish El-Amon-Re no harm, Janiel. If you could read my heart, you would know this."
Mikal adds quietly, "We too wish to protect the universe from the Aqal."
Jareth is carefully using the Sceptre's daily name, letting Janiel know he sees the angel as something more than just another faceless soldier in this war.
Janiel is almost curled up, the wings now drooping, the lower pair trying to curl around him as if protectively. "But... but but but you want to hurt the Architect!" he says quietly. "You want to take away everything we've worked on. You want it all to be chaos and confusion and weirdness and why cant you mortals see that we're doing this all for you?"
Jareth crouches a little, voice gentle, "I have nothing but love for the Archtect, Janiel. I don't wish chaos and confusion on anyone. I have always lived for joy and love and peace. You are doing nothing for the mortals. What you are doing is carrying out orders given to you by someone that claims they are the voice of the Architect."
Janiel says in a tiny voice. "But... but Metatron is the voice of the Architect... El-Amon-Re told me so...."
Mikal murmurs softly, "When, Janiel?"
Mikal says, "What did he say, exactly?"
"When... when I was created. When I was first created. El-Amon-Re held me in his hand and told me to listen to what Metatron said, because Metatron is his vizier...."
Mikal says, "And how long ago was that? And was Metatron there when he said this?"
Mikal feels quietly sorry for the poor angel. To have been held in the hand of your deity -- how amazing must that have been! To be stuck here now, a prisoner of doubt... how tragic.
"I... I don't remember how long ago. It was after the Godswar. I don't remember if Metatron was there..." Janiel's voice has been reduced to an almost mechanical droning as he answers the questions, the second set of wings coming around as if hugging himself.
Mikal sighs quietly; she does not feel proud of herself for harming another entity so. "Let's talk about something else for a bit, shall we? What do you know of Raven, and of Azrael?"
Janiel's voice does become a little more animated, now that the subject has changed. "Raven... Raven is the last of the pagan Thrones. She serves no master but herself. Azrael serves the Architect. As the Architect brings order to the Dreamtime and the Waking, so too does Azrael bring that order to Hades.”
Mikal says, "Do you know where or how to find Raven or Azrael?"
"No; it is not my place to find Raven. Azrael... should any of us have need to find him, we have been told to go to a place on Mount Zion, a golgotha, and there Azrael will find us. We are not to tarry there, but to tell him what we must and then depart. If he has need to speak to any of us, we are informed by our superiors, and we go to the golgotha to meet Azrael there.
Mikal says, "What is a golgotha?"
"It is a hill. A hill in the shape of a skull. Thus it is called a golgotha, or a place of the skull.
Mikal says, "All right. Is there anything else you know about Azrael?" She's getting the feeling poor Janiel isn't much more than an errand boy, from the near uselessness of all his answers so far. "And do the angels use bails and oracles at all?"
"I... I know that he gained much of his power through executing the pagan Thrones. The battle between he and Anubis was epic, and angels from all corners of the Dreamtime watched it as it raged for a hundred Dawns. At Dawn of the hundred and first day, Azrael slew Anubis, giving him the right to cross into Hades and see what was on the far shores. Before, he was an angel like any of us. When he came back, he was... different. Darker. Scarier." Janiel actually shivers a little. "He was not the same. But Michael and Uriel and Raphael and Gabriel assured us that it was part of the Architect's plan. Even so... I could tell even the Archangels shunned Azrael afterwards....
"No; we do not use bails nor do we consult the Oracles. All that we need to know is given to us by Metatron and the Archangels.
Mikal is silent for a moment, and a small prayer for twisted, damaged Azrael whispers through her mind. She sighs quietly again, then asks, "Do the angels know of any large deposits of salt? Do you know where and what Enoch-Nod and Gan Eden are, and how to get there safely, if so?"
"Yes; there is a massive salt quarry near Babylon. We guard it... moderately well, but only a fool would attempt to raid it that close to Mount Zion, and so few know of our weakness outside of our direst enemies anyway. I... do not know where Gan Eden is. Enoch-Nod... is said to lie on the upper slopes of Mount Zion, opposite the side facing the Mirror."
Mikal nods encouragingly, waiting for the rest of her answers.
"I do not know how to get to either place, though I have heard it said that it is Gabriel's duty to prevent any mortals from reaching Gan Eden; that place is not for them, not yet and perhaps not ever. I have never been to Enoch-Nod, but I am told it is hard. But there is nothing for us there. It is ruins, kept as a monument to the sins of the Cainites."
Mikal frowns puzzledly, "Who were the Cainites? What were their sins? Are mortals kept from it also?"
"They were the first mortals to kill. They brought about the Second Fall. For this, they were cursed in the eyes of gods and mortal alike. They fled the Waking, then, to the Land of Nod, erecting their mighty city Enoch-Nod. I have never heard of a mortal willingly going to Enoch-Nod, if they even knew of it. To go there would surely require the permission of Metatron."
Mikal nods in silent thought. A moment later she murmurs, "Do you know aught of the lost places of power?"
Mikal wonders perplexedly who the Cainites truly were... since she knows El-Amon-Re is younger than many of the earlier deities.
Janiel hesitates, then gives a long sigh. "I know of two. One is a place I stumbled upon long ago, called Neuschwabenland, in the Deep Wyld. When I spoke to Michael of it, he bade me not speak of it to any other, and to leave it be.
"The other is the Cloister of Saint Hildegarde von Bingen. I... it is a quiet place, but most angels are... dissuaded from spending time there if they learn of it. Please... please, do not tell any other angel that I continue to go there. I would be shunned and ostracized."
Mikal gives the poor angel a quiet glance and murmurs, "I will not, Janiel. It is not my intent to harm you if I can possibly avoid it. Can you tell me more, though, about those two places?"
Mikal is quietly fascinated that Janiel's True Name compells him more strongly than the commands of his archangel... and wonders at the name "Neuschwabenland." Wasn't that the one Vishnu Lord wished to see lost as well?
Janiel sighs in relief, not meeting Mikal's gaze. "The Cloisters is the echo of a place where a mortal Saint once worshipped the Architect in ecstatic worship. Her poetry sang of congress with the Divine that transcended mere words, mere dogma. I go there to reinvigorate my sense of duty to my creator; it is dissuaded from visiting there because many in the Hosts believe that it is... improper on the part of mortals and angels alike to view the Architect in such terms: As companion, as lover. Some have said in whispers, though, that never has the Architect been so... approachable... as when he is drawn near with such words."
Mikal smiles and murmurs quietly, "I quite understand... and I agree." She remembers songs sung to Inanna, and to Ninshubur to intercede for her... beautiful, adoring songs of love and desire and joy. Her eyes are bright with silent bliss for a moment.
Janiel sighs and nods, then shivers again. "Neuschwabenland... the sky is dark, the light from the mirror does not reach it. It is cold, and snows there constantly as if sheathed in a blizzard. It sits upon an frozen ocean. Its dark gothic spires reach into the sky with crooked crosses and eagles. It is a city of mortal grandeur and arrogance, where even an angel feels small and insignificant amongst the grey architecture.
"In Neuschwabenland, there is a tower. Within this tower, there is a bell. The bell casts a black light from within it, a black sun that illuminates all of the city. I have heard legions of soldiers marching in the empty streets, rallies held in the empty stadium... and the silent ringing of that black bell, tolling a victory that I can only barely fathom.
"The city is empty now. Whatever mortal hands and minds raised it are not there... I don't think. Michael bade me not tarry there, though, else I might find those who have made it their home. I... have even heard it said that the place is forsaken even by Raven, that she will not go there no matter what death may visit a mortal there."
Mikal shivers slightly; she doesn't know what this place is, but she also can see how Vishnu Lord might wish to see it lost. Still, perhaps some energy can be drawn from it, or if someone draws dark and twisted energy, maybe that can be stopped. Mikal sighs softly, turning her mind to other things. She doesn't hold out much hope for this poor boy of an angel having any real tactical answers, but she asks anyway, to be thorough: "Do you know, or have you heard where Freyja, Sleipnir, and Artemis are -- or Yeshua and Baal Hadaad, as well as the other deities? Do you know anything of upcoming battle plans against the rakshasa? Do you know the names and positions of the top angels in the hierarchy you are part of?"
Janiel blinks. "I do not know of Freyja, Artemis, or Sleipnir... but I have heard of Yeshua and Baal Hadad. Yeshua, the White Christ, remains on Mount Zion, in his Father's house. I have not seen him, but I have been told that is where he is. Baal Hadad is missing; he is being sought by four rider-angels to find him and bring him back to Mount Zion. I... how did you know of him? No mortal has heard of Baal Hadad since before the Godswar...."
Mikal smiles faintly, not mentioning that she is the avatar of one even older than he. Instead the small woman murmurs, "What is a rider-angel, please?"
"An angel, like any other. They are said to ride steeds the better to travel swiftly over the land and upon it."
Mikal looks slightly perplexed, "You... do not fly when you travel?" She tilts her head thoughtfully -- those six wings look quite functional, and she's seen angels in flight!
Mikal is not surprised, however, to hear poor Yeshua is pretty much a prisoner, kept isolated from all the angels.
"We do... but these riders travel quietly and as hidden as possible.
Mikal says, "Do they look like mortals or something?"
"They cannot hide their nature as aethyrs. But they can hide their wings. To fly would be to reveal what they are."
Mikal is fascinated to hear Baal Hadad is supposedly still out and free! She wonders how they might contact him. "And the other deities?"
"I have no knowledge of them. I'm sorry." The apology actually sounds a little heartfelt.
Mikal nods and quietly thanks Janiel, then pulls over a blank scroll, a quill, and some ink. "Give me now, please, the names of the angels just below the archangels, and then those below them. Slowly, so I may write them down." She'll compare these "daily" names to the list of names of angels for whom they have True Names. It's entirely possible, due to deaths in war, that one or more of the young angels of the time of the Godswar might have been elevated into a much higher ranking by now, after all. It can't hurt to check.
Janiel, as if he knows what this is about, winces, but cannot help but answer, and does so, dutifully and visibly, emotionally painfully.
Mikal adds amusedly, "And after that, you can tell me of any battle plans against the rakshasa that you know of, since you didn't answer that question earlier."
Janiel relays the information requested, adding in details about a planned, massive assault upon the Raksasha redoubt in three Dawns' time. Janiel knows little actually about the operational details, but knows that it's a multi-prong attack, and her company was to be assaulting from the direction of the Mirror.
Mikal glances up at Ravana, making sure he's listening. She's not surprised when he asks a few tight, terse questions to clarify some details, and she listens with internal relief that the rakshasa will not be caught flat-footed on this.
If Janiel is correct, it would have been a tremendous battle, but fortunately with forewarning and some time to prepare, it won't be nearly as bad.
Mikal is silent, giving the anguished angel a moment to recover after having been pretty much forced to answer. The young woman reviews her thoughts, feeling more sorry by the moment for the dedicated, loyal, rather simple little angel. Finally she decides to see if there's anything she can do for Janiel's pain. "Is there any one thing you want, or one question you wish to ask? I cannot promise to grant it, but I can try."
Janiel is quiet for a moment, then asks, "Why are you doing this? Why do you want to destroy what the Architect has made? It's more than just you being pagans, isn't it?"
Mikal smiles faintly, but her voice is gentle, "Janiel, we don't want to destroy what the Architect has made. We want to understand why, all of a sudden, he went from being a stern but relatively fair deity for his people -- to systematically destroying and murdering anything that didn't obey blindly." Her voice hardens a bit as she adds, "We suspect foul play against your Architect, to cause this suddenly aberrant behavior... and we're going to find who or what caused it, and then do our best to stop them, and help your Architect return to who he truly is once more." She stares silently at the angel for a moment, then adds very, very quietly, "Because whosoever irresponsibly controls a god... can destroy the universe. None of us want to see that happen."
Janiel winces at the hardening of Mikal's voice. "I... I don't have answers for you. But I... but I think I understand."
Mikal smiles quietly, "I hope so. I'm trying hard to understand you also." She takes a slow, deep breath, then glances at her companions, "I have asked all the questions I have for now. Do you have any for him, before he is released once more?"
Janiel is quiet after Mikal's question, and he just silently shakes his head. "I... I don't have anything to ask." It's clear though that the angel is bursting with questions he either can't or won't enunciate.
Mikal says indignantly, "That's not true! You should ask if you have questions! You have just as much right to ask as we do, after all."
Janiel still can't meet the mortals' eyes. He does, however, lick his lips, and ask quietly, "Why did you choose to summon me?" in a quiet voice.
Jareth has been watching the angel answering questions with an ache in his heart. At the mention of the cloister, he smiles, Lilith's sadness and happy memories of her lover stirring in the back of the bard's mind. Quietly, he says, "Janiel... why would it be wrong to think of the Architect as a lover? He has had lovers. And children."
Mikal answers easily, so Janiel can focus on Jareth's answer, "We summoned you because we'd been able to talk with you before. You were willing to at least listen to us and be reasonable."
Mikal nods and with a courteous gesture indicates Jareth to Janiel after that.
Janiel blinks at the question, and though he still does not look at Jareth, he does say, quietly. "I... I don't... I don't know. It's... the message that has been given to mortals, and... and what sort of example would it be if I... if I went against that message.
Mikal tilts her head puzzledly, "But... I know the mortals knew of Yeshua, and before that of Baal Hadad. They were both his sons. What about the Sophia and the Shekinah, too? His divine consorts?" She frowns, thinking, "Weren't there more than that?"
Jareth smiles and nods, reaching out to take Mikal's hand, "Lilith. Lilith was a lover of the Architect, in the days before his madness. It hurt her badly to be cast out of his sight."
Mikal blinks at Jareth, suddenly remembering -- then she gives her beloved a tight, fierce hug. She's no YHWH, but she still loves Jareth just as he is.
Janiel says, almost murmuring. "Sophia and Shekhina... I... I have heard those names on occasion... but I know of none who claim to be them." He winces a little. "And I know Lilith's name as well, but... we are forbidden from speaking of her. She is... she has been villified, demonized, labeled a harlot and a consort to Lucifer." He adds, "That.. that is why I go to the Cloisters of Saint Hildegade von Bingen."
Mikal glances at Janiel from the shelter of Jareth's arm about her, murmuring curiously, "Explain, please?"
Jareth nods slowly, "But Lilith was not a consort to Lucifer. I can tell you that with utter truth." He strokes Mikal's hair gently, trying to keep his eyes from showing the painful pang at talk of his divine self's casting out. This is not yet the time nor the person to speak of that.
Janiel closes his eyes. "I know," he says quietly.
Mikal waits patiently for Janiel to answer her question.
Janiel sighs. "I go there because I don't beleive she should be villified. But I do not know who else amongst the angels to confide in or confer with. And so I keep silent, and go to the Cloisters to think upon this truth."
Jareth leans forward, eyes brightening, "Why not confide in Lilith herself?"
Mikal says in a clear voice, like a professor lecturing, "Actually, while she was a brilliant polymath, she was not formally canonized. It's a failing of the Roman Catholic Church, really; they've always been understandably intimidated by intellectual women." She blinks a heartbeat later, covering her mouth with one hand and looking a bit spooked as she whispers, "S-sorry..." She hastily adds, as if to distract from her previous statement, "S-so, um, so what happened there that you know the t-truth about Lilith?"
Janiel smiles softly, closing his eyes. "I would suggest you try telling that to the cenobites at the Cloisters. They will... strongly disagree with that evaluation, though it is not yours."
Mikal says, "Which evaluation? They don't consider her a brilliant polymath?" She sounds confused, "Surely not?"
"No; they recognize her as a saint despite what the Roman Catholic Church said. That is why I call her Saint Hildegarde."
Jareth is starting to sit up a little straighter, "I think I see why you hold so fast to your ideas, Janiel."
Mikal says, "Oh. Most rational religious individuals do. Screw the bureaucrats." She looks a bit perplexed at herself, then adds, "Um... go on about how you found out the truth re Lilith there?"
Janiel blinks again, and looks to Jareth. "How... what is it that you see?" he asks quietly. To Mikal he says, "I meditated and I thought. I found the peace of the cloisters calming and I meditated upon that vision of the Architect that St. Hildegarde had. And it occurred to me that Lilith was a victim -- but of divine machinations or of mortal, I know not.”
Jareth starts to reach for Janiel's hand again and stops himself, "I see someone who sees truth. They see a truth that shows them somethin painful about someone they love, so it makes them want to hold up the parts they see as worthy of love. And I think that you want to love the Architect and you can feel that there is supposed to be joy in worship."
Janiel closes his eyes and looks away at Jareth's words. "Yes," he says quietly. "Yes. I've.. wanted somethign more that... than the endless choruses of 'Holy! Holy! Holy!' in the rostrum of Mount Zion. There... there had to be something... more to worship than that. I know I am not a mortal, and the full bounty of worship is not for us to know, but... but surel there would be more than that?"
Jareth's kind voice says, "Janiel, child, there is more than that. There is meant to be more than that. There is supposed to be balance. The Architect could not have been the only god."
Mikal thinks, [That's a given!], but politely says nothing.
Janiel hugs himself. "I know there wasn't. But... we...." Words falter for him, and his shoulders slump. "We only want what's best for the universe," he finally says.
Jareth nods and takes a deep breath, "Do you believe what you're doing is best for the Universe?"
Mikal raises an eyebrow, "So only you know what's best for everyone?" Her tone is gentle, not angry... but it's also firm, calling on him to think.
Janiel looks away. "No... no, not only me, the Architect...."
Jareth looks at Mikal and at Ravana. The being in that circle is hurting, "Mikal, please ask Janiel not to harm me."
Janiel blinks at that, and looks with curiosity at Jareth, then.
Mikal smiles, "He's already sworn on his True Name not to, Jareth." She hesitates, then adds quietly, "I... I am guessing, but it is my thought if we truly wish to help him feel better, we would release him, and let him decide if he wished to go or stay and talk with us...?" She glances a bit uncertainly between the two entities.
Jareth nods, "I want to cross the circle." To Janiel, he says, "Would you be offended if I were to touch you?"
Mikal says, "Crossing the circle will break it, which would release him, yes."
Janiel opens his mouth, blinking, then he looks between Mikal and Jareth, then glances -- without trying to -- at Ravana who has been silent all this time. Finally Janiel says, haltingly, "I.. would not be offended... no...?"
Mikal smiles and releases Jareth from the hug, sitting down again against Raphael. She glances up -- way up -- at Ravana and grins shyly, then looks back at the angel.
Jareth stands up after gently kissing Mikal. Taking a deep breath, he steps over the layers of circles, moving carefully toward Janiel. He shivers at the feel of the circles breaking.
Mikal watches with interest, wondering if the angel will abruptly vanish. She somehow doubts it, at this point.
There is a barely perceptible sense of the barriers breaking, something half-heard or half-felt as the invisible wards briefly give, then poof and evaporate like soap bubbles. Janiel tenses as the last barrier vanishes, and his wings twitch as if he has the sudden mad instinct to flit away and fly free... but he stays in place, watching Jareth approach.
Mikal grins again at the sudden thought that Janiel looks a little like a frightened, spooky wild thing as Jareth approaches... then she suddenly blushes, wondering if she looks like that sometimes too -- especially around Ravana! She glances sideways at him from beneath her bangs, her blush increasing.
Jareth walks up to the angel and reaches with gentle hands to take Janiel's face between his palms, "I swear to you on my heart and my life that we do not wish the Architect harm, Janiel. We do not wish you harm. We would offer you what succor and solace we can. And we will hold your secrets sacred." He leans in and brushes a kiss against the angel's lips, "Be at peace."
Janiel's eyes are locked with Jareth's, and he tenses a little at the mortal's touch. But with the kiss, te angel's wings shudder, then he sighs softly, breath passing upon Jareth's chin, as he relaxes visibly. His wings no longer try to shield him from everything and anything, instead drawing back and away a little bit to free him from their interference.
Mikal blinks in surprise at Jareth's words -- he's good! She wonders if he's manifesting Lilith just then. That would certainly explain the usually-observant Ravana completely missing her surreptitious little glances at him.
Jareth's voice is gentle and his hands are still on Janiel's face, "Thank you, child, for listening to the echoes between the words."
Janiel, then, finally does smile, a shy expression with color rising to the angel's cheeks. "Th-thank you. For letting me hear them."
Jareth nods and strokes Janiel's hair, "Do you wish to stay, or will it cause you trouble?"
Janiel licks his lips nervously. "I... I will be missed... at some point. And if I am missing, it... it will be suspicious. And.. and yet...."
Mikal says, "You're welcome to visit us, although..." she frowns thoughtfully, "I'm not sure how you'd know where to find us?"
Jareth says, "And yet, it feels nice to find those that do not judge you for thinking. We do not wish you to be in trouble. We will be on the move, but if you can find us, you are welcome to come to us."
Janiel nods, shakily, at Jareth's words. "Thank you," he says quietly, sounding a bit wistful. "What are you going to-- no. No, do not tell me. I know you can bind me against speaking, but it will be hard enough to go back and... and see my comrades when we stage the attack."
Jareth moves to embrace the angel, "We do understand. Is there anything you wish us to know before you go?"
Janiel embraces Jareth in return, looking a little not quite sure why he wants to, but mostly not thinking about that. "Just... if I change my mind... may I return?"
Mikal nods quietly, "Yes. We have other friends who're angels like you, Janiel." She glances at Jareth -- she doesn't think he'll contradict her, but she's checking anyway.
Jareth says, "Of course you may. You have our promise."
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