Gods of Death

13 : Rose Petals on Water

Victor walked through the cypress trees and up the hill. Emma was three strides ahead of him, flying gracefully through the sunlight. Ahead, dominating the view, was a large Greek-looking temple on a hill. Victor gazed at it for a while, his mind niggling at him.

"Emma?" he queried.

"Yes?" she called back over her shoulder.

"That temple looks new. Or at least, not ancient."

"It's the Asklepieion of Kos."

"The what?"

"The first ever hospital. It's where Hippocrates studied and came up with the idea of the medical profession."

"So why does it look new?"

"Because it's not now; it's then." Emma stopped her flapping and turned to face Victor. "Time is meaningless, I told you that. We go where we are sent to find the person - the angel - that we are sent to find. I suppose that means Greece a couple of thousand years ago."

"So what's the date?"

"I don't know, a few centuries in? Like 300 AD, 400?"

"Emma, what the f**k?"

"It's not me doing it! Why do you keep acting like all of this is my f*****g fault? I'm just stuck like you, doing what I am told."

"You could have said," Victor lowered his voice.

"Maybe," Emma conceded, "come on; don't you want to meet some ancient Greeks? Perhaps some Romans?"

Victor drew his sword, a little shudder going through him.

"Haha! Of course, a Roman soldier was your first training partner. He killed you so fast, it was hilarious!" Emma laughed.

Victor glared at her.

"Oh come on, it was funny. You didn't even know what you were doing with that thing and he just skewered you!"

"I'm still not laughing." Victor said.

"Have it your way, but it was f*****g funny!" Emma flapped forward, "Come on, there's probably lots of them all in a bunch - an entire legion!”

They remained in the trees as they climbed the hill, Victor alert for the signs of anyone. "At least I've heard of the Archangel Gabriel," he said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, he got all the glory, and for what? Being a messenger."

"He's different though, isn't he? Powerful?"

"Because the other two were weak?"

"No," Victor paused, "I mean, they were more understandable, like people really. Archangel Gabriel is..." he struggled for a word.

"No different," Emma said, "he's no different. Don't become a p***y out of some sense of awe. He was just a f*****g messenger."

Victor nodded and kept walking.

They came out into a sunlit open space. The walls of the Asklepieion stood like a barrier before them, a stairway of huge, wide steps led up to an imposing entrance way. At the foot of the stairs, to the left, were a cluster of buildings; small chambers, statues and other decoration. It was silent.

"There's no one here," said Victor, "I thought there'd be people."

"Me too," admitted Emma. She flew over to a small fountain and dipped her tail into the water. Floating on the fountain was a cluster of small pink petals, dropped from the entwined rose bush that flowered at the back of the stonework. One of the petals clung to the tip of Emma's pointed appendage. She flicked and it floated in the air, drifting slowly to the ground.

"It's pretty eerie," she said. "I really was expecting some Romans."

From the fountain the petals began to swirl. Startled, Emma jumped away and took to the sky. She and Victor looked on, mesmerised as the soft floral leaves coalesced to take on a new form. A warm pink light glowed and sitting on the edge of the fountain where the petals had been was a girl. She was slight, perhaps eleven years old, with dark hair and grey eyes.

"Are you Gabriel?" Victor asked, his encounter with Jophiel providing a lack of both prejudice and assumption.

The girl laughed and hopped off the fountain. The magic of her formation continued as more petals came from the water to gather as wings at her back. They retained their original nature, giving this angel with rose-wings a unique look that Victor found somewhat disconcerting.

"I," she said with a slight curtsey, holding out the hem of her soft white dress delicately, "am Rydia." She pointed up the stairs to the entrance way. "He is up there. He's waiting for you, but I warn you not to go there."

"You do?"

"He is angry; you have killed his brothers. He is waiting, not to talk, not to forgive, but to kill you."

"Gabriel."

"Yes," Rydia inclined her head.

"So why are you here?"

"I told you, I am to warn you. My Lord Archangel Gabriel sent me here, to tell you there is no need for this, to tell you that you may go. He offers you that chance."

"You're the messenger for the messenger?" Emma said, her cackle echoing through the air.

"Be silent, devil!" Rydia faced her sternly. Emma grinned but said nothing.

Rydia turned back to Victor. "It is your choice," she said, "he waits for you up there, but he will kill you." She smiled softly; "If I were you, I'd take the chance he offers, and leave."

Victor looked at her sadly. "Leaving isn't an option," he said. His sword shining brightly as he held it up, he walked resolutely to the steps. "Emma, wait here," he commanded.

Each step up to the entrance was a struggle. Victor fought his fear and confusion. One more angel, he told himself - just one more. Then Emma could open the portal to him, to his dying body, and he'd be able to have some answers.

Not least, what had happened to him.

The deep shadowed entrance way gave way to a large open terrace. At the far side were more steps, leading to the temple he had seen on the walk, to either side a wide wall with a series of alcoves cut into it. Statues, monuments and signs of worship were abundant.

He took it all in quickly and then held his eyes on the Archangel before him. Gabriel stood in the centre of the terrace, his dark olive skin providing perfect contrast to the golden glow of his armour. Victor couldn't tell if he had a halo like the others or if the sun simply shone from him to illuminate the arena. Gabriel's face was sad but resolute and he held a sword to match Victor's own; long and deadly.

Victor charged, screaming, and the Archangel took to the sky, beating his beautiful wings slowly, but with power. Gabriel grasped his sword with two hands and brought it down heavily to strike Victor's head. Sword met sword, and despite the ringing sound that echoed around the terrace, Victor stood unmoved, the magic of his weapon protecting him from the impact.

He sliced his counterattack. Battle had begun.