zg_shadows | Uncompromising

The tragedy of faith.

"So, a child of Egypt, a follower of pagan deities, would dare walk in the House of God?"

Her heart thudding painfully in her chest Rehema turned, to be confronted with arched black wings that filled the hallway. The man... the angel... looked down at her with burning, vengeful eyes.

"One of those responsible for the plight of the city, and you dare to come here, to His house?"

She numbly took a few steps back, then recollected herself and forced herself to stand, to tilt back her head and look up to meet his eyes. What she was doing here was right by any religion under the sun, and for that she would fight.

"There was someone in here," she said as calmly as she could. "I don't want them killed or trapped when the place falls down."

"No one here is in danger," the angel said sternly. "No one here is in danger, witch, except those who would defile God's House. Why did you come here, what makes you think one such as you has the right to be here?"

"I'm sorry," she said as politely as she could, and her voice wasn't trembling even if the rest of her was. "I've no intention of defiling anywhere. I came here... to see if I could find out who did this. And if anyone had died here and... needed help."

"You seek no repentance, you serve those who would attempt to rival God and steal his people. No one died here."

That was not the way things were. How could he not know that? But she could see the course of that argument run quickly through her head, and sidestepped it. "So the newspapers said," she responded, and was slightly surprised herself at the depth of her own bitterness. "But they can't be believed."

He was an angel. "Do you know who caused the volcanoes?" she asked, suddenly realising, ignoring his anger and her own danger in the need to draw straight to the heart of the only thing that mattered.

"Yes." He waited, silent and forbidding, a slight breeze fluttering the feathers of his wings.

"Will you tell me?"

"Why would I? You are a pagan, cursed in the eyes of God, culpable of one of the greatest crimes under church law?"

"Because people died." Because her own life and crimes were nothing to this one. Because nothing was too great a sacrifice to find the person who did this and prevent it ever happening again.

"You are an agent of Lucifer, a servant of darkness," he said, and she bit her tongue, the sudden sharp pain of it and the metallic taste in her mouth preventing her from interrupting, from almost laughing as she told him just how wrong he was. "As such, you are as bad as those you seek. Yet I have a message for you and yours, that you can deliver for me."

"If I do that, will you tell me who did this?" She did not take her eyes from his, though every nerve screamed at her that she was signing her own death warrant.

"The Church is protected, is guarded and is inviolate. We shall not tolerate those of pagan beliefs sullying our ground, and those who do so I shall destroy utterly. I know what you are and I will not accept you here."

And then, like a spear into her mind, a single burning image that seared and slashed into her like knives. The pain was sudden and overwhelming and entirely unimportant as she desperately clutched at and fought to memorise every detail of the picture, the killer, the child, the one with fangs. Her heart twisted inside her.

"Thankyou," she whispered, her gratitude genuine and heartfelt despite the now-ebbing pain.

She could feel sharp-edged shards of brickwork cutting into her knees and palms. With an effort of will, her head still aching, she forced herself back to her feet. "I'll deliver your message." Somewhere inside her soul was singing with joy and relief.

"Before you leave..." the angel began, and she suddenly knew it was not going to be that easy. "Before you leave, you will swear to me you will not return to consecrated ground, that blessed in God's name, ever again."

The singing was gone, and now there was a stone in her stomach instead. Rehema stared at him despairingly, feeling everything turn to ashes. She couldn't swear this oath. Because one day there would be someone on consecrated ground who would need her... and when they did, she would go in. She turned her head away, unable to face him.

"I'm... I'm not sure I can," she said in a voice that felt very far away. And prepared to die.