Beings of Light

The people who have walked in darkness

Have seen a great light.

~ Isaiah 9:2 ~

For the Light shineth in Darkness

And the Darkness comprehended it not.

~ John 1:5 ~

Black angel, white angel

Kneel down and lick from the razor

Dark angel, Light angel

Come down and lay in the danger

~ Danzig ~ Black Angel, White Angel ~

At first, many thought the raging storm that night was ominous, a sign of dark days and sleepless, terrifying nights... and some were right. The farmers were all shut up in their farmhouses, the livestock secured in the barns. The lightning danced, shattered, and forked across the near-purple clouds. No sooner had one fork of light vanished then another crawled fluorescently across the sky. Thunder was ever-deafening, like an endless spasm of a symphony percussion section. The slivers of rain sliced down, shattering against the nearly empty concrete road, almost piercing right through the man’s dark clothes.

He walked, head straight, eyes open, seemingly oblivious to the rain. He followed the broken yellow line that divided the country road and when the rare vehicle was seen coming at him, he stayed in his line. The vehicle would pass him by without ever knowing he was there, as if he blended in with the surrounding gloom.

The man had walked a long way, had traveled even farther, much farther, but his feet were not tired. He never tired. He had done much more traveling than this. Nobody but him knew exactly how far; he counted every step.

Eventually, he stopped outside one abandoned broken-down barn, far from any neighbors. With the storm, however, even the nearest neighbors would not see or hear anything that would pique their curiosity. He stood a long moment, simply staring. The roof was on, at least most of the way. The walls had caved in on one side, but the other was standing. Part of the barn looked a bit torched. He sighed. The Jensen twins had played here, it seemed. He must remember to visit them soon. He mentally added that to his list of appointments.

Taking another deep breath, he started slowly toward the standing end of the barn. The door was off its hinges, presumably lying in the field nearby. That was not the Jensen twins. A small tornado was to blame for that one, along with the fallen end of the barn. He stepped into the tall grass and down into the ditch, already starting to fill with water. Back up he went, stepping carefully the last fifty feet or so to the barn entrance. He halted just an inch from the door-less threshold and stared into the darkness. Even the lightning above didn’t brighten the inside much. And yet he saw what had pulled him to this barn.

He didn’t smile, just lowered his head and gave a low, mirthless chuckle. Lifting his head again, he stepped through the doorway into dry air. The rain dripped off him, into his face, but he did not brush it out of his eyes or wring it out of his jet-black hair. He stood again just inside the barn and looked around slowly in the rubble, and in the field beyond the walls, up in the rafters, and carefully checking even the empty open spaces. Finally, satisfied, he turned his attention to one corner of the barn.

It was to this corner that he stepped. It was drier here, darker too. He didn’t mind that. He was used to the dark and could see just fine. Turning his attention away from that corner a moment, he walked to the nearest corner, straight across, and sat down slowly on the hood of an old, rusty, stripped down pickup truck. Mint green, by the looks of it, but it was hard to tell in this light, especially since the color had faded so much. But he thought mint green would have fit nicely.

Settling himself on the hood, resting his feet on the bumper and folding his hands on his legs, he looked back across the barn. He hadn’t planned on coming here tonight. He stared at the being in the dark gray clothing who called him here. The being smiled at him. Not at all a smile the man liked. Not that this being was ugly; in fact he was beautiful in a sorrowful sort of way, like a wilting flower or bare trees covered in snow. It was just that there was no warmth in that smile, no warmth and no light. Not tonight.

The man stared at the being before him, almost a mirror image, but not quite. There was the same dark hair, a bit longer, different style. They had the same pale blue eyes and same pale skin. But the one across from the rain-drenched man had no light tonight. This confused him, as there was almost always light within those pale eyes and certainly within the smile. It was the being’s job to be warm and inviting, full of light.

Not tonight!

The being raised his hand about face level. “Hail, my leader,” he said in a low, soothing voice. It was not the only voice he had. The man in the black clothes had heard a very different voice on many occasions, one that was quite startling, frightening, even terrifying. That voice even terrified the man in black, and he was not one subject to fear. But tonight, even without warmth and light, his voice was still low and soothing. This was a good sign. The man relaxed.

“Hail,” he replied in a low voice, his hand raised slightly also. “Why do you wait here for me? I know you are busy.”

The being smiled again. It faded quickly as his eyes turned down slightly. “I know why you’re here.” The man in black tilted his head slightly, but said nothing. “I felt I must ask you to avoid this course of action. With all due respect, my chief, of course!”

The man stared for a moment. “I have simply come to check on a few things. I believe there are certain things that... require my personal attention.”

The gray-clad man looked down. “Do you think you can fool me, Master? You know me.”

The man in black nodded. “Yes, my dear Azrael, I know you well.” He tilted his head again, looking him over. “And where is your warmth tonight, my friend? Where is your light I have always seen so warmly and brightly?”

“Do you not know, Master? Can you not think why I would have no warmth to give you, no light to shine your path?”

“I do what needs to be done. It is long past time to end this.”

Azrael shook his head slowly. “It has worked for so long, and now you seek to destroy everything.”

The dark man shook his head also. His voice rose slightly. “It has not worked! It hasn’t worked since the beginning. You know that, and you know why.”

“I do not call blame to you, Master. But I cannot let you bring this wrath. I am sorry, my great leader...”

“Stop it!” The man was off the truck and across the barn in one flash of lightning overhead. The thunder cracked as their hands met and clasped. Azrael did not blink. “Your leader I am, but your friend more! My dearest Azrael, of all of us only you know wrath as well as I. You know pain, you see it countless times a day. Have you truly grown that numb to it?”

Azrael looked deep into his friend’s eyes. “You know I could not. Were I to grow numb, I should lose my warmth, and therefore my usefulness. I would cease to exist. I cannot grow numb to pain, agony, and fear.”

“Then won’t you help me end it? I beg you, my friend, please! Help me end this destructive game.”

Azrael stared down at his friend, now on his knees, and let his tears fall. “Please don’t do that, Master. I cannot see this. I can feel your pain.”

“Then help me stop it.”

“No, friend, I can’t. What you are about to do would cause more pain and agony in this world.”

“Only briefly!” The man looked up into his friend’s tear-soaked face. Both faces now seemed as wet as the other. “After that is over, there would be no more pain. He’s the reason for all this pain and suffering. It wasn’t meant to be like this. You know that.”

They fell into silence. The rain continued to fall in thick sheets. The lightning and thunder had calmed slightly, but they were about to pick up again. Azrael opened his eyes and looked into his friend and leader’s eyes again. There were no tears this time, and the warmth and light, the sliver that remained, were completely gone. When he spoke, the soothing voice had been replaced. This was what the man had feared upon entering the barn, and had feared since he embarked on this self-imposed mission.

In a deep rumbling voice that shook his leader’s ears, Azrael said, “I cannot let you bring this wrath upon us!”

The man’s face fell from pleading to sadness. His eyebrows knitted in pain. Knowing, at this point, there was nothing else he could do or say, he slowly stood up and took a few steps back.

Azrael stood also and slowly drew the dark sword from his side, a sword that seemed to soak in all light. His leader similarly drew his from his side, shining brilliantly with its own light. Azrael raised his, then brought it down, and lightning streaked again, this time from within the barn.

The man in black was no longer drenched with rain. The heat from the clashing blades dried him instantly. He sidestepped Azrael’s slow-moving blade with ease on the second pass. Both men knew who the better fighter was.

“My friend, I beg you... please stop this.”

Azrael swung again and lost his balance. He was not a warrior, they both knew. “No, sir, you must stop this.”

The dark man sidestepped three more swings. “Azrael, stop now! That’s an order!”

He paused out of habit, but Azrael, with a pained look on his face, disobeyed his master’s order for the first time in his very long life. The dark blade rose again and fell, knocked aside by the astonished man’s luminescent sword.

“You don’t want to hurt me, Azrael. You know that as well as I.”

And the man knew he was right. Azrael’s swings were slow and sloppy, even for him. He had rarely used his sword before, never needed to do much with it. Even during the War, Azrael remained neutral, doing only his job. His skill with a blade was perhaps the least of any of their kind. No, he truly did not want to hurt his leader. Azrael truly loved him.

But he paused. And stared at his leader’s face. And the man knew he had said the wrong thing. Now, in order to stop him, Azrael would really have to try to hurt him.

And that’s exactly what he did.

With a growl that shook the barn, Azrael leapt at his master, sword flailing wildly, eyes dark as his sword. The dark man dodged, parried, and recovered to his feet. And then he felt the pain. Looking down, he saw the slice on his arm. It wasn’t bad, just a small bloodless gash. But it was enough to let him know that his friend was not holding back any longer.

Determined to end it quickly before either of them got seriously hurt, or worse, he attacked. With a quick parry to knock the blade away, the man dodged low and ducked under the back swing. Taking the risk and dropping his blade, he grabbed Azrael by the waist and lifted him in the air. Spinning quickly, he thrust his body downward, pulling Azrael with him, leaving a spider-web crack in the cement floor. Azrael’s sword fell out of his hand and landed seven feet away.

They lay there a long moment, the man holding his friend down. Neither of them were breathing heavy with exhaustion. They had worked much harder than this. Azrael simply cried, as he was known to do. So much pain in him and yet this was not a pain he had known before. It was the pain of helplessness, something he could not fix, though he tried. Even in the War he had not even tried to fix it, just stayed out completely. This pain was the fear of an unknown future. All the man in black could do was lay there and hold his friend as he cried.

“You can’t win, Azrael,” he said softly, drawing a fresh burst of tears. “I’m going to leave now. And you won’t be able to stop me. I ask you once again, and only once, my friend. I ask you to join with me. I could certainly use your help. But I understand if you are too busy. There are many people who need your help tonight.”

The man in black let go of his friend. Azrael did not move, but no longer cried. His eyes were red and wet, but he did not cry anymore. Taking a few steps, the dark man picked up his sword and sheathed it. The blade disappeared at his side as if it were never there.

He turned and walked slowly toward the door-less entry. “Follow me, if you will, friend,” he called over his shoulder. “But I’ll understand if you don’t.”

He stepped out into the rain again without blinking. He heard movement behind him, but did not turn to look. Azrael was simply collecting his sword to continue on his business. He would not follow, nor try to stop him again. He had lost, his master had won and would win every time he tried. The man knew before he left the barn that Azrael would not follow. He was far too busy.

That’s all right, he thought. I planned on doing this on my own, anyway.

He stepped into the road, following the line again. There was a town up ahead. He would meet many people there, but even he did not know what would happen when he did. Although, he did have a few appointments he planned on keeping. He decided to meet with one of them tonight.

He was going to make Azrael a little busier.