The board meeting
All the representatives of the gods had offices up the same mountain, connected by a sandstone path that led all the way up to the conference room, a wide cul-de-sac with marble floorings and a waterfall in the back, carved into the mountain. Plants covered the walls, lush green, water trickling down a thin stream, the very same that circled Nathaniel’s office down below. In the very center of the conference room was a long table where Charmaine and Loquela sat, waiting for the others. Unsurprising, since Charmaine was always the first one to arrive. The two had been talking when Nathaniel approached, watching him from their respective seats, or at least, Charmaine was. Loquela made it more difficult to tell, since her long straight bangs extended all the way down to her nose, hiding her eyes.
The conversation quieted down as he took a seat. Both women faced him, grinning wide.
“Well, I haven’t seen you in a minute,” Loquela commented. Her voice carried a hint of amusement, three mouths grinning wide while one talked. “The Bleeding sure did numbers on you, little angel.”
“I’m recovering,” he explained, placing his folder on the desk. “It just hasn’t been long enough yet.”
“Is that why your light has dimmed?” That turned his blood into ice.
“I would hope it’s not all that obvious.”
“It’s worse than yesterday,” Charmaine chimed in, leaning back on her seat with a hand on her chin, squinting. “It seems to be sapping your light away. Perhaps it’s a situation of getting worse before getting any better.”
“It was actually one of The Drowned that sucked the Waters of Remembrance from my arm, so maybe you’re right; I just need to stand in the sun a little more.”
Both women cringed at the mention of The Drowned, teeth bared in disgust.
“Absolutely repugnant,” Loquela whispered.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
The board consisted of the Representatives of a few lords who usually worked together and mostly aimed for the same causes. Mainly, the well-being of Paradise, and sometimes, the settlement of personal quarrels that ended up involving a lot more people than necessary. The invitation was always open to anyone who felt inclined to attend, although, as far as Nathaniel knew, only five were regulars here. Besides himself, of course, those were Charmaine, the Representative of Dialogue and creator of the board; Cosmo, the Representative of Order; Irene, the Representative of Peace; and Adila, the Representative of Justice. Seating arrangements didn’t exist, but they always ended up taking the same seats anyway.
This time, besides the main five, it seemed they also had some good company, as well as some questionable appearances, which was just great; he would love to spend all day here, knocking heads with members who hadn’t shown up in literal weeks and had virtually no idea what was happening. Striker was in the crowd, for god’s sake.
“Beloved couriers of Paradise,” Loquela began, loud and clear, ending all parallel conversations. Charmaine was usually the one who opened these meetings, but this made sense too. “Thank you all for coming. I realize that, last week, not much was concluded in terms of action, but hopefully, we can reach a compromise this time. Now, as some of you may know, the demons are not satisfied with the current arrangement—our peace offering has expired. They want their horse back.”
“We’re not doing that,” Nathaniel promptly cut in. His voice was stern, still defending the position he’d taken three months ago. “They took ours first. They killed it.”
“Yes, we know.”
“Wait, they killed our horses?” Dicer interrupted. It was just a matter of time until he did. He was one of the members who hadn’t been to a meeting in weeks, and as the Representative of Confusion, his presence probably wouldn’t have mattered. “I thought they weren’t supposed to do that.”
“They’re not, but they did it anyway, so we stole one of theirs in return,” Nathaniel explained, trying not to sound too vexed. “It was payback, and it was just. Adila?”
“Yes, that checks out.”
“We’ve had that flaming horse in our stables for months now, Dicer. Haven’t you noticed that?” Narissa asked, giving her cousin a dirty look. As the Representative of Focus, she gave him the treatment he deserved.
“I don’t usually visit the stables,” Dicer defended. “I can’t even remember the last time I rode a horse.”
“I know you’re all extremely disinclined to give them their horse back,” Loquela continued, “which makes their second requirement an impossibility, from what I can tell. They want one of your horses in return.”
“No,” Nathaniel immediately replied, hands closed into fists. “This only started because they killed one of ours first; it’d make no sense to let them have two.”
“That’s your point of view,” Striker began, catching his eye and making his blood boil. “If you had retreated without stealing their horse, they wouldn’t be retaliating now.”
“I was trying to set the record straight.”
“How come our peace offering expired?” Narissa cut in, eyebrows drawn together. “What does that even mean? I thought it was a set deal.”
“It was supposed to be, but they no longer care for it. They seem to be far more interested in their stables than the next battle,” Charmaine explained.
“What was the peace offering?” Dicer asked, getting an eye roll from his cousin.
“We made a deal with them that, in the next battle, we’d round up our numbers to match with theirs instead of using all our soldiers to outnumber their battalion, like we normally do.”
“They still want that, by the way; this discussion is merely a second settlement,” Loquela added.
“Absolutely not.” Nathaniel’s voice was loud, fire running through his veins. “Even if we did give them the horse back, that would only throw the numbers off again. It doesn’t make sense.”
“That’s precisely what I thought you’d say.”
“Undo it,” he commanded. “Just undo the whole thing; we can settle on something else entirely.”
“But the offering has already been established.”
“Well, I’m not going to follow it, so let them know.”
“Nathaniel, your obstinacy will only cement the war,” Irene warned, voice cold, almost chilling. “Try to compromise here.”
“I’m defending what’s ours. It’s not right for them to just take whatever they want.”
“So what’s your compromise, then? What will you give in return?”
“Shut up,” Cosmo interrupted, his voice a thundering roar. “Everybody, shut up; we’re wasting time. Don’t you see? The longer we take to reach a decision, the more time we’re giving them to come up with a plan of their own. At this point, we all know they’re just waiting for an opportunity to strike.”
“Maybe that’s what they want,” Striker shrugged, leaning back onto his seat. “We have Irene with us, but peace is not in the room. Their outlandish demands probably only exist to create chaos in this meeting. Trust me, I would know that.”
Yes, the Representative of Chaos surely would.
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Cosmo continued. “This discussion is merely a distraction; they don’t actually want to settle.”
“So you think war is inevitable,” Nathaniel commented absently.
“Do you see the circus we’ve become? It’s ridiculous. You said it yourself; it makes no sense. It must be sabotage.”
“Then we strike them first,” Irene cut in, blue eyes sharp. “No more stalling.”
“How can we be sure they’re actually going to strike?” Nathaniel asked. “What if we’re barging in on unarmed troops? Worse yet, what if it’s a trap?”
“I agree with Nathaniel,” Narissa jumped in. “I think we should give them the benefit of the doubt, since this is all wild speculation anyway. Sending the troops down for an attack will leave Paradise unprotected, which is what they might be counting on, as well.”
“Why would they want that?” her cousin asked, giving her a confused look.
“For an insider attack, maybe.” The explanation was thoughtful, as Narissa laced her fingers over the table. “I did see Blaz lurking around the Oracle’s temple just the other day, after all.” The revelation widened everyone’s eyes, making Nathaniel’s heart pump ice down his veins. With a sharp look on her face, Narissa held Striker’s stare. “You were with him—why? What did he want?”
The questions cut a mocking half-smirk across Striker’s face. “I thought we all knew about Blaz’s friendship with the Oracle; they’re almost like lovers. Worse, co-conspirators.”
“Why were you with him?” Nathaniel asked, speaking loudly.
“He just needed a little company, is all. Not all of us thrive from fucking our friends over.”
“Enough,” Irene interrupted. “We should be discussing defensive measures.”
“We should be discussing a plan of action,” Cosmo corrected.
“Charmaine,” Nathaniel interjected, turning to glance at her. “What do our sources say about The Abyss? Are there any plans to attack us unprepared?”
“I’m not sure. Dolion’s the only one in contact with me these days and he hasn’t mentioned anything about a war. I haven’t heard from the others in a while.”
“Probably already taken,” Cosmo commented, tone grave.
“Let’s not be pessimistic here; they might just need a little more time to reach us,” Nathaniel reassured them, despite the jump in his pulse.
As it seemed to always be the case in these meetings, a lot was discussed, but a plan of action was never really formed. They would spend the rest of the week in contact with Dolion, hoping for a word from the other demons, prepared to plunge into the shadows at any moment.
When the meeting adjourned, Nathaniel left straight for the military base for a word with his men, so they would be on the same page. Lookouts were doubled, defenses were reinforced, and if they happened to engage with The Abyss, they could do so without him present, as long as a messenger was sent to fetch him the moment it happened. He hoped it wouldn’t come down to it, but at this point, they were getting ready for anything.
While still at the base, he took a moment to write a quick report about the meeting to Salus, adding at the end that, if they happened to go to war earlier than anticipated, then Charmaine should be left in charge of Aiden for the rest of the month. On that same note, he apologized for skipping yesterday’s report and wrote a brief account of everything that had happened, letting Salus know Aiden was at The Resort for his mental health. He was still having some trouble acclimating, but he’d be fine.
The letter ended up running a lot longer than originally intended, but that always happened. Leaving the base, he stopped by The Court to drop it off.
“You’re different,” Jay commented, staring at him with multiple eyes that wanted to take him in all at the same time.
“Yes, you’ve told me that.” His tone was a little too harsh, a little too curt, just because he’d gotten that remark way too many times by now, not only from Jay.
“You should visit the waterfall.”
“I will,” he promised, and while he should, there were a few things more pressing than that at the moment. Maybe he could stop by the waterfall after it was all handled.
At the bottom of the mountain, where the marble steps met with the cobblestone street, it occurred to him that the Oracle lived just around the corner, and if he dropped by, perhaps she would be willing to spare some information about Blaz’s visit.
He hadn’t heard the name in a very long time; his old boss, the man whose position he’d accidentally usurped with the Great Expunging. It hadn’t been his intention to do it at all, and perhaps that was why Salus had given it to him; pure of heart, pure of mind, loyal to the bone. Blaz had also been loyal, but he hadn’t exactly stopped a group of angels from mutinying, which hadn’t been his fault, either—he couldn’t have known. Nathaniel’s selflessness had just been so outstanding that Salus decided to have him as his Representative, not Blaz. It was very uncommon for that to happen, but apparently, not impossible.
With Blaz’s dismissal, the board had lost sight of him entirely, slipping back into the order of angels, drowning his sorrows somewhere unseen. There was something eerie in the fact no one had seen him since and his sudden reappearance at the temple didn’t strike Nathaniel as well-intentioned. In fact, it brought him much of the same chill and trepidation that he’d experienced during the mutiny. Would he have to deal with Blaz too?
In the hallway, he noticed just how much dimmer his halo had become; the only light source in here, now just glowing a few feet ahead of him, rather than practically lighting up the entire place like last time. Getting worse to get better, he reminded himself, using Charmaine’s words for comfort.
In the main room, he found the Oracle exactly where he’d last left her: entombed against the wall, rings methodically turning, light bleeding onto her broken wings. Beneath her, a brilliant pool of light slowly spread.
Yes, entombed, in the one place where they called a temple, but should’ve called a tomb. She was dying and he didn’t look like he was too far behind. Was Aiden giving him hell or the best time of his life? He wasn’t here for that; she’d met up with Blaz. She was best friends with him now, wasn’t that right? He shared her pain and he shared her rage; she liked him. Oh, she liked him. What did he want? What had he been doing this entire time? It had been years. It’d been too long, indeed; left in the darkness, imprisoned in the land of celestials, battered and broken, unable to feel the sunlight. For what? They’d kicked her just like they’d kicked Blaz, convicted and sentenced for no wrongdoing by unjust and arrogant authorities.
How did Nathaniel sleep knowing he’d taken the title and reputation of an innocent man? Paradise didn’t even remember his name anymore. Did that bring him joy? What did Blaz want? Justice. Retribution. Liberty.
This was far bigger than him; it was bigger than all of them. He would fall, and burn, and meet the end that was always intended for him, a traitor dealt with by a treacherous hand. He’d done nothing wrong.
If Blaz intended to attack Paradise, then it was her civic duty to tell him. He had to know. He had to protect the angels. But could he protect himself? When it came down to it, his friends and enemies, the ones who truly loved him, which side would win? Which side outnumbered the other? That was inconsequential; he had an entire army behind him. Who did she have? A cage and a traitor.
What was Blaz trying to accomplish? Much greater things than he ever would, and he wasn’t alone in it either. She might be maimed and trapped, but the others walked free, perfectly blended into the order of angels, getting ready to attack from the shadows. His heart skipped, blood running cold. Besides Blaz and Striker, who else was there?
The rings turned.
How long had she been plotting this for? It was no secret that she wasn’t fond of him or the actions he’d taken in the past, but plotting against him was a new low; he thought she was a being of light. They were supposed to be on the same side. She hadn’t been on anyone’s side since her imprisonment. It was ludicrous to expect him to know anything about it, a crime committed long before his very birth. Slowly bleeding to death had taken everything out of her; she could no longer stand it. It was time to break free. She had to pay for her sins; that was why she was here and would have to stay until the end of her sentence. Did he know what her crimes were? Her time had already been served, but Paradise didn’t care; it was easier to keep her locked up than to have to deal with her in the realm of the gods. No, Justice wouldn’t let her rot here. Justice had been the one to condemn her, but he was too much of a bootlicker to see the faults of the system; he’d never understand. A man who sacrificed his own friends to protect the status quo would never understand. He’d protected Paradise from an attack. He’d maintained its flawed structure.
Alright, listen; he was sorry for what had happened to her and how it continued to affect her to this day, but he’d had no part in it. He just needed her to stop conspiring with the likes of Striker and Blaz for some grand escape. It was dangerous and could seriously compromise Paradise. When her time was up, she’d get to leave and go back to how things used to be; she’d never rot in here for all eternity. No, she wouldn’t.
Where was Blaz? The blind devotion of a man who’d never been wronged was far more powerful than anything she could’ve ever shown or offered him. Blaz had a job to do, as did the others; it was bigger than all of them. The roots dug in deep, webbing covered the entire wall; there was nothing he could do to stop it. Who could he trust if traitors were hidden in plain sight? How did he know if the man he lay with didn’t have a knife pointed at his back? Aiden wasn’t part of her plan anymore; she’d discarded him. His heart had been shattered and her letters had been torn; she meant nothing to him now. He would bring Nathaniel down.
With his heart beating out of his chest, he unsheathed the letter opener, blade glinting with the glow of the Oracle’s bleeding center, aimed directly at it. Condemned for her crimes, she should’ve been begging for forgiveness, not trying to escape judgment; this told him she wasn’t repentant at all. Would she have done it again? Yes, for what she did wasn’t a crime.
Suddenly, his body went stiff, as if the air around him had seized it and forced his arm to bend, drawing the dagger close to his own throat. It was time to leave. It was time for her to stop committing treason. It wasn’t treason if she’d never pledged her allegiance to the ones he called gods. Trying to take back control was useless; she was stronger than him. A leg forced a step backwards, his arm moved closer, and the blade was practically on his neck. Goodbye. Another two steps backwards and the Oracle let go of him, forcing a retreat.
Outside of the temple, he touched his own neck. No blood. With the letter opener back in its scabbard, he flew straight to Cosmo’s office.
“We need to isolate the Oracle in solitary confinement,” he announced, stern and authoritarian, while letting himself into the room. His sudden entrance made Cosmo look up from his work with a scowl on his face. “She’s plotting treason. I just spoke to her.”
“I take it Striker and Blaz are both in on it.”
“There’s no confirmation on Striker, but Blaz is definitely involved. She claims there are more, hiding among us; we can’t allow them to communicate. We must lock her up.”
“Or station a soldier to guard her temple. It is Justice’s orders that her resting place must always remain open.”
“No more mail and no more visits.”
“Anyone attempting to contact her will be sent straight to Court for interrogation.”
A breath reached deep into his lungs, shoulders relaxing.
“It’ll be fine, Nathaniel; we’ve got this covered. Paradise is safe.”
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