Justice for the Fallen
16.1 Melkyal

The sun had already set when I left the Watch Tower, where Angels of Courage have their main office. I needed all their reports on the Gallagher case to track down potential witnesses. The trial would be held at noon the next day, so time was of the essence.

“Melkyal, sir!” called a voice stopping me in my tracks.

I turned to see Anauel hasting in my direction. The strands of her blonde hair escaped from the tight bun, and her cheeks were flushed, so she probably ran to get there.

“Anauel? Has something happened?”

“The Archangel Omael has summoned you.”

Cold crept up my back. “I have matters to attend to. I’ll go to see the Hight Judge when I’m back.” I tried to walk away, but Anauel grabbed my arm.

“I don’t think you should let him wait, sir.” Her voice trembled a bit. “I’m convinced the matter is urgent.”

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “Fine, I’m on my way then.”

“Thank you, sir,” the girl said, relieved. “Follow me.”

“Do you know what it is about?” I asked when we took the main road while passing angels gave me quick, curious glances and hastily looked away. The rumours circulated here as quickly as they did in the Human Realm. An Archangel of Justice brought home a murderous demon. How bizarre! I scoffed inwardly and straightened my back, ignoring the glares.

Anauel was nibbling at the hem of her sleeve, not looking at me. “I think the High Judge is concerned about your performance, sir.”

I clenched my fists. Of course, he was. I had a feeling my recent odd behaviour would be questioned sooner or later. But then again, I’ve never had so many doubts in my entire life. I mainly dealt with rampaging demons that were nothing but monsters, wreaking havoc and destroying everything in their way.

Life was simple─demons were a threat, so we eliminated them to keep the peace and protect defenceless humans. But the last couple of days were like a bucket full of icy water. The reality was not black and white as I thought. It mainly was a spectrum of greys so diverse that it was impossible to categorise each person as good or evil.

If Sanna was different from the regular stereotypical demon, I was convinced there were others too. And it was simply wrong to tag them all with one label and condemn them only based on who or what they were. My heart was revolting against that.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Anauel said, breaking my train of thought. “She seems like a nice person. For a demon, that is.”

“She is. Sanna is not a cold-blooded killer. She did what she did to defend others, and I’m going to prove that.”

“I honestly hope you will,” the girl replied with a genuine smile. “We are angels, the servants of the Mighty One. I don’t think we should let hatred cloud our judgment.”

Suddenly, my heart seemed lighter. I was not alone in my doubts. Even this girl, who probably never set foot down in the Human Realm, saw the error in our ways. That meant we could still fix it.

“Anauel, can you do me a favour?”

“Sure. Name it, sir.”

“Keep an eye on Sanna for me. I must go back down to earth, and I doubt I’ll be back before the trial. Can you please make sure she’s safe and not bothered? Also, I think she could use a friend right now.”

“I…” the girl trailed off, conflicted between her good heart and the backlash she would receive for showing kindness to a demon. It was clear from her frowned brows and how she bit on her lips. But eventually, she looked back at me and smiled. “I will, sir. You don’t have to worry about it.”

As we arrived at the courthouse, I stopped and rested my hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “Thank you. May the Mighty One bless your kind heart.”

“And may He always give you strength to ward off all evil,” she replied automatically and smiled. But her face turned solemn when she looked back at the building towering over us. “You’d better go, sir. Don’t let the High Judge wait.”

***

The High Judge’s office was on the top floor of the building, with huge windows overlooking the whole city. High shelves filled with scrolls covered the walls, with every single document placed neatly into its place. The white marble floor was so spotless it reflected the moonlight slipping through the windows, and multiple flower vases filled the room with a pleasant scent.

Yet, the place still felt cold and unfriendly.

Archangel Omael raised his head when he spotted me and nodded curtly, finishing his writing. He rolled the parchment and placed it in the leather tube. The attendant, a beautiful boy no older than twelve, took it from him and put it on the high shelf with quick beats of small grey wings.

“Leave us,” Omael ordered, and the boy hastily left the room, closing the doors quietly behind him.

“You summoned me, sir,” I said when the silence started to feel suffocating.

The Archangel of Wisdom laced his fingers together and gave me a scrutinising look from under frowned brows. “I did. It was brought to my attention that your recent conduct is concerning, to say the least.”

I straightened my back. “I’m afraid I don’t know what would make you think that. Did I not deliver you the killer? The one that was eluding Angels of Courage for weeks?”

“I’m not talking about that, so don’t play dumb.” Omael shuffled through the parchments on his desk. “Fraternising with demons and half-breeds. Dismissing Angels of Courage‘s aid. Frequenting sinful dens of corruption. Interfering with Angels of Compassion’s work.” He looked back at me. “Feel free to share why I got all those complaints.”

“All I did was necessary to find and apprehend the killer, sir,” I said with a straight face.

“And what Angels of Compassion had to do with your investigation?” Omael raised his brow.

“That…” I stuttered, trying to find a plausible excuse, but the piercing lavender eyes indicated the Archangel of Wisdom would not buy it, no matter how clever the lie was. So, I raised my chin and told the truth. “I saw injustice, and intervened, sir.”

“We do not give aid to servants of the Fallen God.”

“It was a child, sir. And he was hungry. There was nothing evil in him.”

Omael sighed, got up from his chair and walked to the window, turning his back to me. His beautiful purple wings followed his motions gracefully. “I was once young and idealistic too, Melkyal. I thought I was on top of the world, and it was my role to shape it.” He turned back to me with a solemn expression. “But it is not. We are but servants to the Mighty One. And his will is our command. We do not question─we obey. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then why do you keep interfering with His divine plan?”

“Sir?”

A shadow of annoyance passed through Omael’s handsome face. “I’ve heard you are going to defend the demon on trial. Why would you do that?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” I replied, holding his scorching gaze. “I’m an Archangel of Justice, and I will not stand by and watch an innocent sentenced to death.”

The Archangel of Wisdom scoffed. “She’s a servant of the Fallen God, and she did kill that man. Torn him to bloody pieces. You call that innocent?” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Sanna did that to protect innocents. The man was a monster, as I’m sure you know already. Have I not slain plenty of monsters in my life? I don’t think her situation is much different from mine. Would you put me on trial for that too, sir?”

“Step very carefully, Melkyal, because you are just a step away from blasphemy,” Omael said, his voice low and cold. “Do you not trust in the judgment of the Mighty One?”

The question gave me pause, and I hated it. A week ago, I would say yes without batting an eye. But now, I hesitated. I wanted to trust Him and take comfort in knowing that there was a greater plan for the betterment of all worlds. But what I’ve seen recently put seeds of doubt in my heart.

“I want to trust him,” I said, barely audible. “But I cannot act against my own heart. What I saw in the Human Realm is far from the perfect world we try to build. And I don’t think we do enough to change that.”

Omael laughed. The sound was so out of place that it felt like a whip lashing at my back, and I winced. “You spend what, two days in the slums? And you think you’ve got it all figured out. Do you think that you can question the judgment of the Mighty One? Don’t be ridiculous.” He strolled towards the shelves and traced his hand over the scrolls. “We are but a speck on the tapestry of the world, Melkyal. Ultimately, one city doesn’t matter. The Fallen God is getting bolder every day, and his demons keep finding ways to make a mockery out of our Peace Treaty. If we let it continue, the chaos will reign on earth.”

“We can still prevent this from happening. We don’t need a scapegoat to do that,” I protested, a flush of anger heating my cheeks.

“The Wrath Demon is no scapegoat.” Omael turned back to me with no compassion on his face. His lavender eyes burned brightly with fires of uncompromising faith and devotion. “She broke the Treaty; she will face the consequences. As will all of her kind.”

“I’m still going to defend her.”

“And I will allow it. But it’s the last time I’m entertaining your whims, Melkyal. If you lived as long as I have, you would learn that sometimes the only way to get rid of rotten flesh is to burn it all with holy fire.”

The sweat pearled on my brow, and goosebumps covered my skin. I knew what Omael insinuated, and it terrified me.

“Like it or not, we are at an important historical moment,” he continued. “The Peace Treaty will be readjusted. I expect the Fallen not to like it and try to resist. Once you’re done playing the knight in shining armour, be ready to put that flaming sword of yours to good use. There will be plenty of enraged demons to slain.”

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