Chapter 9

Sophia woke and found herself lying in bed. At first, she thought she was at her grandmother’s down in Fair Isle Landing, as she did not recognise her room. But the ceiling looked strange; it was too high, and it had the familiar whiteness ubiquitous in the Temple she called home.

Sleep still clung to her mind, and faint memories of a nightmare lingered, prickling her with anxiety. She feared she had overslept. The morning sun was already streaming through the window. She usually got up before dawn.

Still, she was so comfortable she could not resist laying a little while longer, appreciating the softness of her pillow and the loving, warm pressure of her goddess’ holy power.

“My Goddess!” Sophia bolted upright.

She was at once fully awake, and the memories of her disastrous journey back to the Temple were returning: the bandits’ attack; the murder of her escort; the hulking demon who saved her against all common sense; the mage and his foul black flame; and her folly in bringing the demon back to her home. It was not the morning sun outside, but the last lights of the afternoon.

It had not been a nightmare she had. It had all happened.

“I am here,” said a melodious voice. “And you are laying in my bedchamber, in case you were wondering. I’m glad you are alright. You gave me quite a fright.”

“My Goddess!” Sophia parroted. There was the angel Rachiel, sitting at the end of the bed where the priestess should have seen her sooner. Sophia wanted to feel ashamed at sleeping in her goddess’ bed, but there was a more pressing thought occupying her mind.

“Where is Sam?”

“She’s not here,” Rachiel answered calmly.

“Did you…” Sophia did not dare to ask if the angel had somehow dealt with the demon, maybe because she was unsure what answer she wished to hear.

“We had a pleasant conversation over tea, and then I sent her out to explore the Temple,” Rachiel spoke as if there was nothing wrong with that scenario. “Last I heard, she had emptied Hertha’s secret wine stash, chased the little children into the gardens, and caused some damage to Tephania’s statue.”

“What?!” Sophia’s eyes widened in horror. How had she slept through all this? As Assistant High Priestess, she needed to take care of this mess. She also considered the demon her responsibility.

She tried to get out of bed but was pushed back down by a gentle but firm hand. “At peace. I am teasing you,” Rachiel laughed softly. “Hertha offered her alcohol to your saviour gladly. The children were delighted to have a playmate while their parents grieved. And I am convinced that last issue one was an accident. I already fixed the statue, at any rate.”

“But, But she’s a demon! I don’t understand.”

“All in due time, my child. For now, just accept when I say that, of all the infernal creatures you may ever encounter, she is one you will never have to fear.”

“You knew her.” The priestess tried not to sound accusatory, but she felt owed some answers.

“I knew of her,” Rachiel corrected. “I knew enough to have faith she would not be a danger to us.” Her warm fingers caressed Sophia’s cheeks. “And she brought you back to me. That would buy some leeway for anyone.”

The priestess leaned into her touch, seeking the warmth of the goddess’ existence. “I still wish you would explain more to me.”

“All in due time, child. All in due time. Knowledge is a dangerous weapon, to be wielded with caution. It will ineluctably hurt those who are not ready to bear it. There are, however, the things I can share with you.” She turned and picked something from the windowsill. She held it for Sophia to see. The priestess immediately recognised the dark pendant the bandit leader had possessed.

“You can touch it,” Rachiel encouraged her. “The magus burned up all the demonic energy inside to fuel his hellfire spell. It can do no more harm now than a random pebble.” Sophia received the stone. It seemed smaller resting in her palm than it was in her memory. “Look closely. What do you see?”

Emboldened, the priestess complied. She now saw thin angry strokes, like the claw marks of an insect, running chaotically over the surface of the egg-shaped stone. If not for several recurring glyphs, she would have doubted this was even a structured language she was looking at. In her memory, the lines burned bright; they were now inert, robbed from their inner flame.

One symbol was larger than the rest, formed by an angular line and a dot that together could suggest a sleeping person. All the other runes seemed arranged around it, one way or another. And this glyph was one Sophia actually recognised.

“The mark of Sloth?”

“This is a demonic amulet, engraved to carry a powerful stealth enchantment,” Rachiel said with distaste. “That is how the pirates could get on the island without my knowledge.”

Sophia sat frozen on the bed. Fear gripped her heart at the realisation her home was not as inviolable as she had once believed. In truth, she had known this since the bandits appeared on the side of the road. But she had held onto the hope this might have been a fluke.

“Could there be more?” Her voice was quivering.

The angel considered the answer, then shook her head. “For it to fool my sight, only a greater devil of Sloth could have made this. Whatever means these men used to acquire it, the price they paid must have been steep. Very steep indeed. I would be greatly surprised if they could afford more than one. Nor can demons create such powerful artefacts easily. It would not work inside the Temple regardless. Rest assured.”

Yet Sophia still worried. “How could this fool you? Doesn’t your sight cover the entire island? Couldn’t you… I don’t know… detect you were being blocked?”

“That’s not how it works, my child,” Rachiel smiled indulgently. “If I could sense a blockage of my sight over a particular area, it would defy the purpose of the stealth amulet, would it not? I had no idea something was amiss until the guards at the gate became alarmed.”

“But, aren’t you a goddess?” Sophia insisted.

Rachiel stared at her, silent and motionless.

Eventually, the angel sighed. She leaned down and tucked a rebel strand of Sophia’s hair behind the young woman’s ear. “My lovely, kind, faithful, dutiful Sophia, I so wish I could tell you I am this all-knowing, all-powerful being you wish to believe I am. But the bare truth is, I, Rachiel the Fair, am only a low-caste angel. Beyond this island, those who are revered as gods and goddesses are of a much loftier status than I can ever aspire to be. They would howl in laughter hearing me being called a goddess.”

“Why have you never told me this before?”

“Because it did not matter. And my situation is more complicated than you imagine.” Rachiel sighed, seeing Sophia’s eager gaze. “Have you ever wondered why I could sit here, talk face-to-face and share tea with you, while even the most revered pontiffs of the Virtues have to content themselves with dreams and visions?”

“I didn’t know. I’ve never thought about it,” Sophia admitted. In fact, she had scarcely given any thought at all to the world beyond the island. She was content with the life she led here and desired no other.

“The more powerful the being, the harder it is for them to interact with the Midworld. Under normal circumstances, even I would find it difficult to physically interact with you, much less live here day and night.” Rachiel paused, then spoke slowly in a whisper. “I was banished, Sophia, cast down from Elysium. I angered the wrong people, and this is my punishment.”

Sophia’s mind took in the information. To say she was shocked was an understatement, but she was slowly getting used to floating in a perpetual state of existential dread. Maybe calling it “numb” was more appropriate. She doubted she would ever get used to discussing the higher matters of angels and demons.

She focused on what she thought was the most important.

“Are you in danger?” she asked with a serious frown.

Rachiel’s mouth hooked up in a loving smile. “You are a marvel, Sophia Lehtinen.” She reached out to smoothen her priestess’ cutely furrowed forehead. “No, I am not. Not here. My circumstances are fairly unique. On this island, and more so within this temple, they cannot touch me. Nor would they care to, I daresay. In exchange, I cannot leave this place.” Seeing Sophia frown again, she gently flicked her forehead.

“Ow!”

“Don’t you worry about me, silly child. I’ve long since accepted my lot in this life. Truth be told, I have grown quite fond of it. I have my tea, my books, and my garden of pretty flowers. My time in this plane has given me a perspective I doubt many of my former peers could even fathom.” The angel’s gaze grew distant. This felt familiar, and Sophia had the urge to turn to the door to see if Sam was not standing there.

“Sophia,” Rachiel suddenly called.

“Yes, My Goddess?”

“I want you to go to Benidith, as my High Priestess, and take part in this year’s Heavenly Synod.” The abrupt subject change and the demand stunned Sophia more thoroughly than a punch from Sam might. All she could do was stare at her goddess in pure, undiluted disbelief.

The Heavenly Synod was a great convention of all the virtuous orders, held every ten years in Benidith, the Holy Capital of the Allied Virtues, with the purpose to establish the alliance’s priorities for the next decade. Every non-urgent major decision was taken during this summit. The last Great Crusade had been declared at the Heavenly Synod of five hundred years ago.

Every order throughout the civilised world was invited to send representatives. Participation was not mandatory, however, and many of the minor groups usually opted out. Some simply could not afford the trip, either in cost or distance. Others, like the Temple of Fair Isle, were reclusive communities and had almost no dealings with the outside world.

Sophia had never considered leaving her island, and now out of the blue, she was told to go out and travel to the centre of the world. She could not wrap her head around it. How did this even come up?!

Eventually, she forced out a stammer, “B-B-But, I’m not High Priestess yet!”

“A mere formality.” Rachiel waved her off. “You have been acting officiously as High Priestess for the past two years. All you lack is the official title. Or would you be cruel enough to ask old Alberta to travel all the way to the Capital?”

“But we never sent anyone to the Synod!”

“We are a recognised order within the Alliance. We have a seat at the assembly. That it was never filled until this day is of no importance.”

“B-But does it have to be this year?”

The angel cast her an impatient look. “Yes. And you are leaving tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!? But the Synod is in more than six months!”

“And it will take you at least three to get there.”

“But I can’t leave! I have duties to atten—”

“Your duties are to me, High Priestess!” The angel stood. She seemed to grow tall and intimidating. Her wings flapped open, unfolding in all their glory. Their blinding glow filled the room and banished every shadow. Rachiel’s shining eyes bore into Sophia’s as her voice echoed both around them and in the priestess’ mind. “Casual as our relationship may be, I will not tolerate my Will being questioned! You shall go to Benidith and sit at the Synod in my Name! I appreciate your inputs, but do not forget your place, mortal.”

Terrified, Sophia was left shivering in the bed, trying to burrow deeper into the pillow, away from this domineering being that seemed like a stranger. She managed a shaky nod. Rachiel sat back down, and the light receded. In a blink, the kindly and loving winged woman who was like a mother to Sophia had returned. “Good. It’s settled then.” She smiled at the priestess, who hesitantly returned it.

Sophia realised her hand was clutching the demonic pendant. She raised her palm and made to give it back to the angel, but Rachiel pushed it away and closed Sophia’s fingers again around it.

“Keep it. It is just a stone now, without power of any kind. But it is still an authentic volcanic rock from Tartarus, and it bears the symbol of a Sin. It could scare certain minor demons away. That mage probably intended to use it as such against your friend.”

“Sam’s not… Your Gloriousness, she’s a demon…” Sophia was unsure of voicing her objection.

“Did you know, my child, that—in a manner of speaking, of course—demons are incredibly trustworthy?” The priestess knew nothing of the sort. Mostly right now, she thought Goddess Rachiel had lost her damn mind. But she did not dare to voice it.

“It is true,” the angel continued. “A demon’s nature is their selfishness. They are not mere creatures of evil. Desire… Desire is what fuels them, and the single-minded pursuit of that Desire, without consideration of consequences or morality, is what creates Evil.

“You can always trust a demon to have their own interest at heart. Even if they aid you, it is because of something they have to gain from it. Know what a demon desires, and you can trust they will act in a way to obtain it. Also, no demon will ever, ever go back on a spoken deal. It goes against their very core to do so.”

“Can angels be trusted?” The words were past Sophia’s lips before she could stop them. She did not even know why she had asked this. She tensed for another rebuttal, but it never came.

Rachiel merely smiled. “Do you trust me?”

* * * * *