LXVIII- The Spark

"Uriel!"

The Ruler bellowed for the messenger angel, rage shaking His voice. Jeremiel had left the Palace, and that left no Seraphim to serve. Raguel, Gabriel, even that troublemaker Zerachiel would be acceptable to Him. But He needed to get one of them to the Palace, and He needed Jeremiel and Remiel to keep their mouths shut about why Jeremiel had chosen to leave that morning. 

"URIEL!" 

The messenger appeared breathlessly, as if he had run across the realms themselves. He pushed back his shaggy red hair before bowing, his chest still heaving as he attempted to catch his breath. 

"Gree-greetings Mighty Ruler...h-how can I be of service?" Uriel gasped, the air not finding its way to his lungs.

"Find Zerachiel, bring him to Me. Tell him he is to serve today."

Uriel lifted his head slightly, confusion written plain across his face. "Excuse me for speaking out of turn, Mighty Ruler, but is it not Seraphim Jeremiel's day to serve? Would You like me to escort Seraphim Jeremiel to the Palace instead?" 

The Ruler did not say a word, but rose from the Throne, taking menacing steps toward Uriel. The messenger angel shrank back, knowing this could not be a good sign. He clenched his jaw and waited for the whip to crack across his back, but his eyes grew wide as the Ruler's boot made contact with his stomach, sending him flying backwards across the Hall. Uriel crashed against the wall, crumpling to the ground. 

"You were told to bring Zerachiel. Do not mention the other Brother. Do you understand now? Do as you're told. Now, get out of My sight."

Uriel coughed, blood spattering from his lips. He crawled forward, slipping between the realms to Zerachiel's home and away from the abuse of the Ruler.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Carefree laughter and chatter made Zerachiel's home feel warm. He had forgotten what it was like to smile, to allow himself a moment of happiness. Ophelia and Victoria had made friends with his other maids, Regan and Adriana, and the four women had insisted he set aside his worries for the morning. – I'm glad I let them talk me into this, I feel more like myself again.–

The bottle of wine made its way around the table once more, and Victoria's cheeks had taken on the tinge of her red hair. She giggled, reaching across to fill Adriana's glass.

"I have never drank this early in the day! I feel so naughty!" Victoria beamed, watching Regan finish her own drink. 

"We're having a girls' day, it's okay!" Adriana waved her hand dismissively, before looking at her master. "We consider him to be one of the girls in this case."

"Don't you have cleaning to do?" Zerachiel teased, sticking his tongue out at the maid. 

"Probably. Don't you have a guard that's supposed to be here?" Regan finished for her friend, a wink following her comment.

Zerachiel frowned, thinking about Regan's words. "You're right, actually. I wonder where... who cares? Good riddance to awful men!" He raised his glass with a grin, before a shallow gasping sound caught his attention. 

"Uriel? Hey, Uriel, are you alright?" The Seraphim noticed the messenger angel that had appeared on his hands and knees at his feet, as if Uriel had crawled between the realms. The four women shrieked, seeing Uriel appear so suddenly and in such rough shape.

"No... Ophelia... get her... out..." Gasping breaths made him hard to understand, but his request went unheeded, as the maid had already seen him. 

Ophelia's glass was knocked to the side as she jumped up, hearing the weak and labored breathing. "Uriel! What happened to you?"

"You're not... supposed ...to know..." 

"Ladies, please, if you could give us a moment?" Zerachiel swept the women toward the hallway, his arms spread in an attempt to gather them along. Ophelia, being small, ducked under his arm, rushing back toward the messenger. 

Ignoring the maidservant's disregard of his order, Zerachiel stooped, picking up Uriel easily, and placed him on the sofa. He spread his wings, blocking Ophelia from seeing them as he bent over, trying to get a clear answer from the messenger. 

"What happened to you? You're a mess."

"Seraphim…Jeremiel...wrong to mention him…refused to…wouldn't serve...The Ruler... ordered you. I tried... to make sure...He... kicked me... across the Hall...His order is for you..." 

The Seraphim scowled; the Ruler had senselessly abused the messenger for Jeremiel's refusal to serve. –Uriel is not at fault for whatever caused Jer to leave, and he still paid the price. I'll have to ask Jeremiel what happened tonight.–

"You were right, Uriel, it is Jeremiel's day to serve. Something must have made him leave. Anyhow, why don't you want Ophelia here? I thought you were courting her?"

Shame crossed Uriel's face, and the messenger angel blinked back tears; Zerachiel was not sure if it was embarrassment or pain. "I don't want her... to see the abuse...I deal with.. every day."

"That's what love is, Uriel. The good and the bad. She was going to find out eventually. Don't hide from her if you care about her. I best get dressed properly and get to the Palace. Stay here today. I expect you to still be here when I get back." He folded his wings back, and turned to the women in the hallway. "Ladies, I will be in the Palace today. Take care of our friend Uriel. I will see you - all five of you - when I return." 

Leaving the parlor, Zerachiel made his way to his chambers, wondering what had put the Ruler in such a horrible mood. –What could have made Jeremiel leave his post? He's always put his work first.–

He shut the door behind him, pulling his tunic over his head. He tossed the garment aside, grabbing the black shirt adorned with silver embroidering, one he often wore to serve. Buttoning the back below his wings, he adjusted the collar before fastening the front of the shirt. He checked his reflection in the mirror before stepping between the realms to the Palace, to see what horrors the Ruler had planned for him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ophelia approached Uriel, who had kicked off his boots and curled his legs to his chest. He laid on his side, looking so small as he tried to rest. She picked up his discarded boots, placing them closer to the door, before sitting on the sofa next to the messenger angel. She lifted his head, placing it on her lap, running her fingers through his fire-red hair. 

"Are you okay?"

"Don't worry about me, little doll. It's really nothing."

Ophelia stopped absently playing with Uriel's hair, and leaned forward to look into his grey eyes. "You're lying to me, Uriel. You're hurt. What did the Ruler do to you? I heard a little of what you told Seraphim Zerachiel."

Uriel turned his head away from Ophelia, his face hiding in her skirts. "The Ruler was angry at Seraphim Jeremiel, so He called me to summon Seraphim Zerachiel. I was certain it was Seraphim Jeremiel's day to serve, so I asked if I should escort him to the Palace instead. That seemed to make the Ruler angrier, and he kicked me. I crashed against the wall, but at least he didn't whip me."

Fury sparked in Ophelia's eyes, and she looked up, making sure Victoria, Regan, and Adriana had stayed out of the parlor. "This isn't the first time you've suffered. I can see the same look of defeat that Seraphim Michael used to come home with! And you purposely avoided talking about how the Ruler treated you when I asked about your job on our first outing…this is…this is common for you, isn't it?!"

"Please, don't worry yourself about it, little doll. It's just…part of the job." Uriel tried to ease her anger, but the spark had already ignited. 

"Show me! I need to know!" Her small hands reached for the buttons at the back of his tunic beneath his wings, and he shrank back.

"Ophelia, please…I didn't want you to see it yet…"

"I need to know, Uriel. You can't hide your life from me forever if you want to continue being with me. I can handle the truth – all of your truths." 

The messenger slowly sat up, removing the grey tunic. Ophelia gasped as she saw the decades of whip scars that crossed his back, and the black and purple galaxy of bruising that had begun to spread across his abdomen. "I'm sorry it's not so nice to look at, little doll…"

"The Ruler won't get away with this, Uriel. I promise you that."