Post Chapter Three - Gabriel (Patreon)

The altar was placed amidst  a star field with a glittering cloak of silver dripping from each corner. In front, Gabriel kneeled.  He had not been to prayer in so long.  Forsaken by the Knowing, he had felt undeserving of such a thing. How could he pray to the very ones that had given him so many chances in life? It was his fault he was here. He of course knew this.  How many chances had the Celestial parent given him and how many times had he only greeted it all with utter disappointment.  Gabriel had resigned himself to the knowledge that the rest of his days he would still spend in the Knowings service. Yet, he would never fully receive the Knowing's love again.

And then it happened.

The days had bled together after the ball. Gabriel had worked to try and keep the market intact. Tirelessly, he had searched through the rubble and the heat and kept looking into the fog in case he had misunderstood what he had seen before. Because their body couldn’t have been in his arms. It just couldn’t.

And when things began to settle and he was forced to go home, he curled up on his bed and wept. Wept because yet again, he was not good enough. He had never been good enough.  What a fool he had been to think that he could save the realm. Love them into staying alive.

It was then that he received the light. The message gave him the words that he had longed to hear for so long. The ones he never thought he deserved. It was time to come home. 

It had been bestowed upon him in a blinding vision. The ceiling of his small bedroom was no longer his own. A swirling bit of beyond, beckoning him.

But the gates were still locked.  They still barred him from entry.

Gabriel knew then what he had to do. Avoid temptation. Avoid all the things that could keep him from being a celestial.  In the upcoming days he would be tested more than he ever had been before and he would succeed.

So when they came to him, the Night Market, he didn’t say anything. When they continued to appear, he tried to ignore them fully. He felt shameful when he had finally broken but he had remained true. They were not real. A demon. Temptation. Something that wished for him to fall even further.

He would not, however. The Knowing was counting on him.  

“I beseech thee,” he whispered, still kneeling. His entire body hurt as he kept himself still.  Night after night he prayed with no answer. Yet, he knew he was being heard. “I offer you humbly the grace that was never mine. Bled from my own body. Given to you as a testament to my sorrow.”

Silver grace pooled before him, dazzlingly. It dripped from long lines against his body. Open wounds. He had not been the one to give them this time. The streets had. But he didn’t think he would withstand another cut.

“Is there more I need to do?” he was whispering. “More I must proclaim?”

There was silence for a long moment but Gabriel was used to that by now. Days sometimes passed without him speaking, leaving his voice red and raw when he finally did have to give an order.

But it was in the quiet that they always spoke.  Pushing the words into his mind. Bestowing the gift only to him.

Purge.

He frowned. “Purge.”

Purge was such an interesting word.  Something he had been told time and again was not appropriate. Was controlling. Obsessive. An act only bestowed upon those that wished to dominate and control.

But where had forsaking such a thing as that really gotten him.

“Yes. I understand.” And he did. So much of the Night Market was unclean. So much of it did not act in the eyes of the Knowing. The realm was a godless one. One that operated on a mockery of faith.  Gabriel, if he truly wanted to return home, would need to do something grand. Something to prove that he was sorry and worthy of redemption.

“Purge,” he said again.

He could do that. He would.

And he would start with the guard.

Because the guard had taken his time. It had distracted him. The guard was responsible for him walking away from what was important. Because of them, he hadn’t protected the market like he should have. He had lost so much because of these unclean individuals who wanted nothing more than to plunge the entirety of their society into chaos.

The Night Market had died because there was no order. Because it was tainted. 

And while they may be dead, he could still protect them. Starting with ignoring the demon of temptation.

And ending with scrubbing the streets clean.