Justice for the Fallen

Sannarah did not look happy. Even though Albie seemed excited, every time she looked at me, it was with an annoyed glare. I rubbed my neck in confusion. She was taking care of those orphanage children, so I thought she would be content with the prospect of getting them needed aid. Angels of Compassion served at local churches to help those in need. I understood that Sanna might be too proud to seek help from our kind, but it was for the sake of those poor children.

I sighed. I was anxious to follow the trail of the murderer, but as Sanna pointed out, the sun had just reached the zenith, so he was surely somewhere in hiding. She also mentioned that she had a means to track him down, which I suspected was this Hell Hound she ordered to stay close. But as a creature of the night, it also could only appear after the sunset. That meant we needed to bide our time until then. We could help the boy out in the meantime.

When we reached the end of an alley, Sanna turned to us with a frown on her face.

“We are here.” She crouched in front of Albie and put her clawed hand gently on his shoulder. “Are you absolutely certain you want to do this? The chance that it will do you any good is almost nonexistent.”

The boy smiled. His mouth seemed to be almost too wide for his little face. “Don’t worry about me, Sanna. I have tough skin. You know, scales and all. And if things get bad, I can easily outrun them all.”

“Let’s hope it won’t come to that.” Sanna patted his bald head and got back to her feet. She turned to me and crossed her arms. “I’m not going with you, as my presence would do more harm than good. I don’t know what you think will happen there, Golden Boy, but you better keep him safe. You don’t want to see me angry.”

I always thought all Fallen were selfish creatures focused on fulfilling their own whims and desires. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Still, it baffled me when I saw this peculiar demon showing such apparent signs of caring for others.

I put a hand over my heart. “I swear no harm will come to Albie while in my care. Besides, we are not heading into a battle. We’ll go there, get some food and be back in no time.”

“I wish it were so easy,” she murmured and sidestepped, gesturing for us to go.

I offered my hand to the boy, and he grabbed it enthusiastically. His palm was rough as if he had worked hard his whole life, but his skin was naturally covered with scale-like calluses. It was still a child’s hand, so I squeezed it as we made our way out of the alley into a large, busy square.

The place was pretty busy, but most people crowded in front of the little church. A couple of tables were set up there, with large steaming cauldrons. Women in simple white dresses distributed bowls of soups and handfuls of bread. As we approached the gathering, I scrunched my nose at the fetor of unwashed bodies and cheap alcohol.

Most gathered here were beggars in ragged clothes and bodies ruined by years of living in extreme poverty. A couple of women came too, holding little bundles tight to their chests or pulling scrawny little children. They all looked half-starved, but their empty and dull eyes brightened when they looked toward church servants working tirelessly and handing out food.

The Angels of Compassion gave them both sustenance and the hope of surviving yet another day.

Albie pulled his hood lower over his face to avoid other people’s stares. His little hand became cold and clammy. I squeezed it reassuringly. “It’s all right. Nothing to be afraid of here.”

The boy nodded but kept his face hidden. The serving girl’s eyes went wide when we finally got to the tables. She was young, and I don’t think I’d ever seen her, but she surely recognised me, considering her reaction.

“Melkyal, sir! What are you doing here?” she asked in a sweet, melodic voice. A ladle she was holding froze halfway from the cauldron to the bowl.

“This child here is in dire need of food. He’s an orphan, and together with other children, they’re barely getting enough sustenance.” I pushed Albie gently forward.

The boy let go of my hand and raised his hands expectantly, just like all other beggars.

The angel’s eyes rested on his stick-thin wrists and pale skin dotted with grey scale-like deformations. A surprised shriek escaped her mouth, and the ladle fell out of her hand. She took a step back and glared at me with anger and disbelief.

“It’s a demon spawn! Why would you bring it here, sir?” she demanded in a voice that could be heard all over the square.

Albie backed away, but he stepped on his too-big cloak, and his hood fell off, revealing a bald and scaly head. People gasped, and more shocked shouts filled the air as they moved away as if we were contagious.

“A demon!”

“It’s hideous!”

“Run before it takes your children!”

I stood there, frozen in place, as I couldn’t believe what I saw. I could understand the mortals. They lacked the divine wisdom my kind possessed and often judged things solely by looks. But the angel’s beautiful face was scornful, and her hands trembled with hardly contained outrage. Albie hid behind me, clutching onto my belt and trying to make himself as small as possible. My heart pounded as my anger slowly bubbled to the surface.

I squared my shoulders and looked at the angel with a frown. “He’s still a child, and he’s hungry. It’s your duty to help those less fortunate. Are you going to ignore it?”

The angel’s face flushed red. “It’s a creature of the night, tainted by the Fallen One. We will not aid those monsters!”

Every word she said in a spiteful tone felt like a lash on my skin. I struggled to keep my voice levelled. “He’s no demon. You can’t blame him for his ancestry. It doesn’t make him evil. How can you send him away in clear conscience? Picking only those who you deem worthy of aid? That’s not how compassion works.”

The angel opened her mouth to respond, but another voice interrupted them.

“What all this rucksack is about?” The woman stepped out of the church’s gate. Her face was beautiful but cold, like a statue. Her silver hair was gathered in a tight bun, and her back was straight as an arrow.

I did recognize her.

“Lady Naaririel.” I bowed my head slightly as she made her way toward us. All other angels cast their eyes to the floor and stepped back.

Naaririel was one of the highest-ranking Angels of Compassion. In a general Heaven hierarchy, she wasn’t very important, but she certainly had the power to influence things. She supervised the servants in the city and was responsible for keeping their efforts pointed where the need was most dire and would benefit the most mortals.

“Sir Melkyal? I would never expect to see you here. How can we be of service? I don’t think there is anything we can help you with.”

“I’m not the one in need of help. I brought a famished boy, but I was told you can’t assist him.” I looked pointedly at the young angel. “I must admit I find it very disturbing.”

Naaririel turned to her subordinate. “Is that true, Morael?”

“Yes, but look at the boy. He’s half-breed. He’s touched by the Fallen One.”

The older angel glanced at the child trembling behind me, and a small wrinkle appeared between her perfectly shaped brows. “I see. I’m afraid Morael is right. We can’t do anything for tainted.”

“Tainted?” I raised my brow. I hadn’t heard that term before.

“Yes, those touched by the servants of the Fallen One,” she explained patiently. Unlike her subordinate, she was perfectly calm and poised, and her cold grey eyes were unreadable. “They are not humans; they are abominations that shouldn’t exist. They don’t possess the soul that could be saved. Hence they are bound to succumb to darkness sooner or later.”

“That’s not true,” I protested. Anger rose again at the harsh words. “They might look different, but they are still children. How can you say they don’t have a soul?”

Naaririel leaned toward me and lowered her voice so the humans around us wouldn’t overhear. “And can you see his soul, Archangel of Justice? Can you look into that child and tell me their soul is pure?”

I opened my mouth and closed it immediately because I knew she had a point. Human souls shone brightly as lanterns, and every angel could see them. Those who tainted their souls with dark arts or sold their souls to the Fallen One had lost that glow, which was easy to recognise.

Demons, on the other hand, did not possess a soul. Or so was taught. They owned a raw power that was pure instinct and destruction. But after meeting Sanna and seeing how much she cared, I instinctively started to question that truth already. When I looked at Albie and the other children from the orphanage, I couldn’t see any glowing souls inside them. But it didn’t make them monsters. Maybe the bright, radiant soul was specific for mortals only, and being partly demon, they were something else entirely?

I knew finding the answer to that question would not be easy, but my heart clenched painfully at the thought of condemning anyone based on what they were. It was not right.

And it certainly was not just.

I narrowed my eyes and held Naaririel’s gaze. “That doesn’t mean they should be faulted based on what they may or may not become. Who are you to judge if they are worthy of salvation?”

To my surprise, Naaririel smiled. But it was a pitiful smile reserved for those beyond any help. “Those are some very bold words, sir. I do not deem myself worthy of making any judgment because that would be prideful. I only fulfil the Mighty One’s will. It is his directive bounding us to not interfere with anything that involves the Fallen One or his servants. We are here to give aid to mortals. Nothing more and nothing less.”

I scoffed. “So, you still refuse to feed a hungry child?”

“Cursed one? Yes. There is nothing we can do for the likes of him.”

Albie made an inarticulate sobbing sound, and little hands on my belt tightened while the people around us shuffled nervously, whispering hateful words and ridiculous accusations. Every instinct in me screamed at this injustice, but I knew it was not the battle I could win. Not here and not now. The change must indeed come from higher-ups.

I turned around and lifted the trembling boy with one hand. His thin arms tightened around my neck, and he hid his tear-stained face in my chest. How could anyone think this pitiful little creature could be a danger?

I looked at Naaririel with a frown. “I don’t like this attitude, and I don’t think it’s the will of the Mighty One to see the innocent suffer. I’ll make sure to clear that up once I’m back above.”

The angel spread her arms wide. “You can do what you wish, sir. But I suggest you focus on your own duties instead of poking a stick into others’ territory. I would sleep easier if I knew the murderers were not running rampant in the city.”

I clenched my jaw and turned on my heel, leaving without a reply. Such petty squabbles were unbecoming of our kind. We should all serve the Mighty One and help Him create a world of peace and beauty.

The things I saw here, in this city, couldn’t be further from that vision. It was unsettling.

I tightened my grip on the crying child as we entered the dark narrow alleys leading back to the slums. The guilt hit me hard when I realised I had caused him this misery. He wouldn’t have had to endure this turmoil if I had not questioned their methods and not pushed him to seek the church’s help.

Sannarah appeared out of the shadows, and before I could explain, she took the boy, hugging him tightly and whispering reassuring words to his ears.

“I swear I didn’t know it was this bad,” I tried, feeling a desperate need to explain myself under her glare.

“I told you it would happen,” she said bitterly. “But of course, you knew better. You always know better.”

“I… I’m sorry,” I stuttered, hit hard by the scorn in Sanna’s voice. It almost pained me physically, as if her words were a lashing whip.

She ignored me and wiped Albie’s tears; her voice turned warm and gentle when she talked to him. “It’s all right, little one. How about I take you for some pancakes, hm? I got a few coppers saved for emergencies. How would you like that?”

The boy sniffled and nodded, tightening his arms around her neck.

“I’ll pay for it,” I offered desperately, trying to fix something I knew was far beyond repair.

“No, you’ve done enough already,” Sanna said coldly and stepped back. “We still have a couple of hours left to sunset. Go and do whatever you angels do in your free time. Don’t go to slums because I won’t be there to save you this time.”

“Sanna, wait!” I protested when she started walking away. “Let me go with you. I─”

“No,” she said firmly, not slowing down or turning to look at me. “I don’t feel like being near you right now. Meet me here at sunset, and we’ll finish this cursed mission of yours.”

Before I could stop her, she disappeared into the alley, leaving me alone with my guilt.