The priests: Vitriana and Vortigern

The rest of the way to Vitriana's temple was done in a silence so heavy that even Yawni wasn't showing any joy to see Tyrael sad and in a bad mood - nor to hunt jonguers. He felt his little mistress was sad too and sometimes he raised his clever eyes to her as to ask:
"Was it my fault?"
But she didn't answer him.
They were arriving at Vitriana's temple and, very quickly, Delilah said while dismounting:
"I hope you'll forgive me, and understand, when you know."
She knocked at the door. Tyrael didn't know what to answer - or didn't wish to - and the door opened before he could recollect his thoughts. A young priestess stood in the doorframe.
"Who seeks entrance in the temple in knowledge?" she asked with a slightly self-important tone.
Obviously Delilah didn't know her - not she Delilah; it was probably a new priestess.
"I am the Guardian of Moen," she replied quietly.
"What kind of joke is this? The last Guardian died last night, killed by Demons! Pass your way!"
"Since when is there a test for entering Vitriana's temple?" retorted Delilah sharply, her temper flaring.
Too much was too much! The demon threat was becoming only too real, Tyrael was angry with her and now this young priestess was challenging her!
"I am the Guardian of Moen, as I have been for ten years, as were my mother before me and her mother before her! Now if you still pretend I'm dead, I would advise you to return to your studies and listen to those who know best!"
The young priestess went red with rage but before she could say anything, a new voice intervened:
"Hella! That's enough! This girl is who she says she is. Let her in."
Despite the older priest's intervention, Hella glared at Delilah but let her enter.
"Hella..." mused Delilah under her breath. "Funny how history keeps repeating itself... What a lack of imagination!"
As soon as Tyrael entered the temple, he became fully visible to everybody around. Hella chocked back a cry of surprised and the Archangel groaned:
"Oh, Vitriana, stop that! You're not Shuqra; stop showing you know everything of the past and present, will you? This is not innate knowledge, but pure show off!"
A rippling eerie laugh answered him, echoed by the laugh of a young priestess with long grey hair suddenly appearing by Tyrael's side. She touched his cheek, gently, affectionately.
"Dear child," she said and her voice was as eerie as her laugh, "let go of your bad mood. The secret handing between you both is not entirely hers to tell, but be here for her, for she will need you and you may be her only resort by that time... or else she will be alone."
The young priestess had an encouraging smile and disappeared as swiftly as she had appeared.
"Thank you for granting us the presence of Divine Vitriana, gentle Angel," said the priest. "Come with me, Guardian of Moen."
Delilah's gaze met Tyrael's and in the deep blue eyes she saw only - to her dismay - sadness and resignation.
"I'm sorry," she mouthed but he turned the head away and she had the impression something was breaking inside her.
"Do not mind Hella," said the priest, taking hold of Delilah's arm without noticing her sudden stiffness. "The last Guardian to die was a relative and she took his death too personally, I'm afraid. Come, Nyrka is waiting for you."
The priestess who welcomed them had hair as long and as grey as Vitriana's but she wasn't as young as so it looked quite normal on her.
"Ah, here you are, Guardian! I was wondering if you would come at all. Please sit down."
Delilah obeyed but Tyrael remained on his feet, slightly leaning against the wall.
"You can join us, gentle Angel."
"We are not in the best terms right now," said quickly Delilah.
"Ah! But didn't our Divine Vitriana tell him to stop brooding?" asked Nyrka with an amused smile.
Tyrael sighed. There were two things he hated about Vitriana and her temples: first, all the initiated priests shared a common memory and so Vitriana knew everything her priests knew - and she chose to dispatch parts of what she knew only carefully. So though she hadn't seen Vitriana's appearance in the hall, Nyrka knew of her intervention. Secondly the priests - not the young ones though - all seemed to think that life was best taken from an amused angle, as if laugh could lighten the burden they carried during their - very - long lives. Chronada, the goddess of time, being Vitriana's sister, it was no wonder both goddesses' priests had a longevity quite surprising.
Delilah noticed his reaction and was half-surprised with his knowledge: he had told her himself that he didn't know anything of the priests' ways! Had she underestimated him?
"The same children often don't listen to their mothers so Angels probably don't listen to gods," she replied to Nyrka.
Tyrael didn't answer to the attack and she was grateful for his silence for there were a certain number of replies he could have given her about children not listening to their mothers.
"So what are your questions, Demon's child?" said Nyrka.
"It seems there's a Demon missing. Where can I find him?"
"Go where your heart leads you."
"That's all?"
"Go where your heart leads you and you shall find him," repeated the priestess.
Delilah half-gritted her teeth.
"Where can I hide him from the Demons so they won't find him?"
"Hide him where he comes from. It will be his safest place."
"Are the angelic armies ready?"
"No. Only the brothers are ready. The others are denying the danger or pouting like children," she said, glancing at Tyrael.
"So I'm really alone to fight..." Delilah mused aloud.
"He who seeks freedom will walk with you... maybe. I do not know the future. You have six questions left."
"The last one wasn't a question," Delilah pointed out.
"But you received an answer even so."
"Are Varaxador's priests accurate as for the strategy?"
"Ah! You wonder about the secret... Great sight they have been given on the matter but Demons are skilled in deception."
"Why did Ordreth's priests kill me?"
"Jealously is enough a motivation to some without the implication of a higher hand."
"Who killed the Guardians? And why?"
"Are these two questions?"
"Yes."
"He who forsook light did. As for the why... you were told humankind fate was on your shoulders. Now you understand why. Everybody expects you to fail, Demon's child."
"Faith is so reassuring," mumbled Delilah.
"Two questions left. Choose wisely."
"Does He have something to make pressure on me?"
"Ah! His ways are tortuous, but carefully thought... Do you think He needs something or someone?"
"But..."
"My question will give you your answer. One last question."
"Alright. It's about the Cave of Dreams. If two persons have the same dream not at the same time, is it a vision?"
"So it happened... Nine years it needed but it happened. With someone of your kind. Strange, very strange... but interesting. Yes, it is a vision."
"And what..."
"Hush! No more answer will be given."
On those words Nyrka stood up and left. Delilah left the temple, followed by Tyrael.

Chewing her lower lip, she was thinking, pacing nervously around Cinnabar.
"'Go where my heart leads'! Ah, if I was listening to my heart, I would go out of this story!"
"What's funny," said Tyrael's voice, "is that it's an angelic farewell. You say this to an Angel who's leaving for a long time. But it had nothing to do with Demons."
Delilah was so pale he feared she might faint.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes... Nothing to do with Demons... but what if it was a fallen Angel?"
"Which Angel would be sought like this by Demons?"
"One of the Gri... Watchers."
"Nonsense. Even the Watchers wouldn't ally with the Demons. They fell because they liked humans too much. They cannot fall lower, their pride would prevent it."
"You're right," she sighed, relieved. "You are not angry anymore with me?"
"I'm an Archangel and, as would say Raphael, anger does not suit an Angel. An eternity of bitterness is very long."
"Tyrael, I'm sorry... but I can't do otherwise."
"Don't think about it anymore. Concentrate on the riddles. You already knew for the angelic armies. Why did you waste a question?"
"I hoped Michael would have seen where reason is."
"Don't be a child. Michael does what the Seraphim and Cherubim tell him to do. But at least, you know that Azrael will help you with his usual escort. And Raphael and Gabriel too."
"What?"
"'Only the brothers are ready': it is a reference to Cain, Abel and Seth and where they are, Azzy's never far. But it's a reference also to Raphael and Gabriel - and Azrael - for they are as close as brothers can be."
"Oh... Are you sure?"
"Allow me to say I know the sayings of my kind."
Delilah winced openly.
"Silly me," she murmured. "Bear with me, I really don't feel ready for the fight."
"I can understand. Now who might be 'he who seeks freedom' and 'he who forsook light'? Though the second one suspiciously sounds like... well, a fallen Angel."
"Yes, but which Angel, even fallen, would... Oh Heavens! I... I think I know."
Tyrael waited patiently for her to tell but seeing he was getting no further information, he understood it was - again - part of the big secret and he sighed.
"And what about the other?"
"I have no idea. I guess I'll understand later. Now why kill the Guardians, all of them but me?"
"That's obvious," said Tyrael, surprised. "The demons couldn't let them live, for they would have had to affront all of them instead of only one - or none. As for why you, may I remind you that you are called 'Demon's child' and that people 'trust' you only because they don't have the choice? Your mother was betrayed by Angels, everybody expects you to betray us in return. Finally, if I'm not mistaken, Ordreth himself calls you 'offspring of a Demon'. Is it enough for you?"
Delilah remained silent a moment, taken aback, and then exclaimed:
"Since when do Demons care for what people think? Humans imagine but Demons know and no matter what, I'm still a Guardian: my bracelet says so!"
She raised her arm in proof and her bracelet was still shining silver and onyx.
"Stop justifying yourself to me. I'm not accusing you. I'm only explaining and I think it could explain one of Nyrka's answers: 'Do you think He needs something or someone?'. If you are who they thought, He doesn't need anything; if not..."
"He needs, oh He does! Alone I can defeat Him and I will, but..."
"But no one is really alone to a Demon; for tormenting they can even summon someone from death realm."
"No! Not..."
Tyrael put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to face him.
"If it's His only way, He will summon Lilith to raise from the dead and no matter what, she will obey."
"Oh, if He does that..."
"You shall laugh at Him, for His attempt would be pitiful. Dead ones are dead and shall remain so."
"But her soul..."
"What? Did you think I would let her wander the path of death alone? Her soul is in Heaven, where I took her. I told you of the new rule in Heaven, didn't I? Why do you think they made it? They were afraid I was in love with Lilith. They don't even know the notion of friendship..."
"So she is safe?"
"She is."
"Good."
"Delilah... Death, even painful, even from the Demons' hands, is better than knowing humankind was condemned for saving one's life."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes I am. Even death lasts less longer than guilt."
"Have no fear, death is only forever and forever doesn't last as long as it used to?" quoted Delilah.
"Exactly."
They both smiled, a bit sadly, a bit bitterly, but smiled even so.

"Where to go now?"
"Vortigern's. It's near the West Gate, at the bottom of the Mounts of Moen and there's a precipice near it. When Vortigern's priests are not happy, they hurl the supplicant in it."
"You're kidding, right?"
"Not at all. They already tried to hurl me in it more than once. I have this bad habit of upsetting them."
"Will they try this today?"
"I don't think so; last time they tried to push me in the precipice, the priest almost fell and he's still alive only because I didn't let him fall."
"What is the test?"
"The Demon's Pact. Vortigern happens to be the god of Demons."
"I know. Vortigern the dreamer..."
"Well, he's less a dreamer if you have the bad idea to say Draghnien's name in front of him!"
"Sometimes I have the impression you prefer Demons to Angels..."
She looked at him, quite tense, then laughed.
"Maybe I do," she admitted. "The dark side is always attractive and easier to reach than your side."
Tyrael smiled.
"But I'm not going to become an invoker of Demons, except for asking them to give me answers."
They were in Sisanfri, going toward the West Gate, and people either avoided the great war stallion or greeted his rider with a wave of the hand and a smile. Delilah even gripped some wrists in a friendly manner. None called her 'Demon's child' - nor 'Guardian' - but all who were greeting her called her Dee, in a nickname of endearment.
"How is it everybody likes you here?" asked Tyrael.
"Not everybody! Some do though. I'm born in Sisanfri, Tyrael, this is my town and most of its inhabitants don't care for what I am because they remember the little girl I was. I like Sisanfri, though I'm living near Rishaki."
They could already see the West Gate for, though Sisanfri was slightly bigger than Rishaki, the streets were well-designed and easing the way from the North Gate to the West Gate. Contrary to the North Gate, the West Gate was guarded and some people were searched, but when the guard saw Delilah, he winked to her and let her pass without any question. People using the West Gate usually went straight in the Whispering Forest using the Eastern Trail, so nothing was surrounding the precipice a bit more south to avoid the possible falls in it. Vortigern's temple was standing on the edge. Delilah dismounted, patted Cinnabar and walked to the door, which was closed. She looked surprised but, not stopped by anything, banged her fist on the door.
The priest who opened it didn't seem very happy about it.
"We are busy," he said, trying to close the door.
She blocked it.
"I don't care," she said haughtily. "I'm the Guardian of Moen, you owe me..."
"Nothing. Pass your way, go see Chyraz."
Delilah produced the talisman around her neck, still hiding it - intentionally or not - from Tyrael and put it under the priest's nose.
"Are you going to change your mind?" she hissed.
The priest grimaced but motioned her inside. Delilah entered, sliding her talisman back under her shirt. Tyrael, though not invited, followed her, wondering once again what was hanging on the heavy chain he had forgotten till now.
They didn't go very far. Vortigern's priests were obviously very busy - probably because of the rising of the demon prince - and another priest stopped Delilah from going wherever his colleague was leading her.
"Go away, Guardian. We have nothing for you today, nor another day."
Delilah frowned and stamped her foot.
"This is enough!" she exclaimed, angry. "You have no excuse whatsoever! You accepted to write down my name in your registry, you owe me back for this!"
The two priests glared at her.
"Pass the test first," grumbled the first one.
"You asked for it," she replied between her clenched teeth.
She waved her hands and an ugly horned creature suddenly appeared behind the first priest, who started when hearing his roar.
"Is it enough? No? Here, there's company coming!"
She waved her hands again, several times, and each time, another creature appeared in the corridor, until it was so crowded that it was impossible to step forward without hitting one of them. They were all different, some with horns, some with hoofs, some with twisted tails, from all colours, all different, but all hideous. Tyrael was feeling less than comfortable and obviously, so were the priests.
"Are you satisfied now?" yelled Delilah, her eyes glowing in anger. "Or do you want more?"
The creatures - obviously Demons, especially if one took the time to think again of the test name - weren't very preoccupied with the fact that the priests were priests of Vortigern, their own god, but rather seemed very interested in them. It seemed also that Delilah had called on Demons rather irritated already. The first priest squealed as a clawed hand - paw? - closed around his neck. He tried to inverse the invocation - with little success - and screeched:
"I'm priest of Vortigern, your god!"
"He doesn't care," Delilah informed him coldly, her hands on her hips. "I have that bad habit of choosing Demons who are highly disrespectful to titles and such."
The huge Demon threatening the priest smiled - revealing terrifying red fangs - and winked to her. The second priest, very calm, said:
"Send them back, Guardian. You have passed the test. We shall answer your questions."
"You are spoiling their fun, you know," said Delilah without moving.
"Delilah!" squealed the priest as the Demon was showing his fangs in something else than a smile.
She sighed and waved her hand very casually, the way one would do to push away a fly, and all the Demons disappeared at the same time.
"The game is dangerous," said the second priest.
"Then don't play with me. Let's make it quick, since you are so busy. What do you have to tell me?"
The second priest - Rankham - shrugged as the first priest left almost running - probably a new priest, decided Tyrael.
"Nothing to help you. We know you decided to maintain the current order instead of helping the new one to rise. I do not care for what my colleagues did before me, we will not help you in your fight."
Delilah had a wolf smile.
"I think I'm going to call them back," she said casually. "I really do hate losing time when being in a hurry. You knew twenty-five years ago when my mother presented me to you. You accepted me as the new Guardian; you cannot rebuke me now, no matter which side I choose. Do I have to fetch your registry to refresh your memory?"
"It is of no use, daughter of Lilith. I know what I wrote twenty-five years ago and my memory needs no refreshing. My registry could claim you are the Angel of Guardians, I do not care. No help will be brought to you."
"You are not making it easy for someone I thought was in a hurry. I'm calling on Vortigern," said Delilah coldly, challenging.
"Call on Illustra if you want, or even Erza," shrugged Rankham. "We won't change our mind."
She took a deep breath.
"You are really asking for trouble, you know? I think you'll find Vortigern a lot harder to satisfy once I'll be done with him."
Once again she waved her hands in a complex way, for a long time, and Tyrael wondered if it would call Vortigern for real or if it was just meant to scare the priest.
"What do you hope for, Guardian?"
"I'm his daughter also, Rankham, I am Delilah Demon's child!"
She concluded her waving in a grand flourish and Vortigern indeed appeared, looking exactly like someone who had been drawn of his daydream.
"Hail to thee, Vortigern!" she said.
"Greetings to you, child," replied Vortigern a bit more casually.
"I have a quarrel with your priest Rankham who denies me the right to know what you have to tell me about Baal's moves."
Tyrael felt a cold wind freezing him to the bones and he was sure Delilah had spoken the demon prince's name aloud on purpose. Vortigern half-frowned, obviously not really liking to hear the name either.
"Why is it so, Rankham?" he asked.
"She already chose which side to stand with: she will keep the existing order alive."
"And then?"
"Demons are our brothers, I will not give her any information to stop them."
"She is your sister also. My children are all equal and their inner wars concern only them. I shall not take anybody's side nor shall you. You will give information to any member of the family and will not disadvantage my long-lost daughter."
Rankham tried a last protestation while glaring at Delilah:
"But she is more daughter to Chyraz than you!"
Vortigern had a light smile.
"Ah!" he said softly. "So it is thought... but blood's call is always stronger... You can never deny what runs in your veins..."
He looked at Delilah.
"I shall see you soon, long-lost daughter."
Delilah nodded slightly without answering and Vortigern left.

Rankham wasn't happy about Vortigern's decision and he made it feel to Delilah.
"His first act after He gets dominion over humankind will be to make you His queen, willing or unwilling, dead or alive."
"Interesting," murmured Delilah with a shudder.
"And you will bear Him sons, many sons, while His armies will keep the angelic armies at bay, should they try to intervene. When the last of His numerous sons will be strong enough, He will attack Heaven and give back their places to the Watchers who have been faithful to Him. The others He will hurl in the same abyssal plains as their non fallen brothers."
"Impressing. Fortunately I will be dead by that time."
"You shall not. He will make you immortal to stand by His side for all eternity."
"Ah! But Zeloran's priest told me that I would die no matter what."
"This you will. But even death yields before His will. This is all, long-lost sister," said Rankham, almost spitting out the last word.
"I thank you, my brother, and I hope next time you will be easier to convince."
"Next time, you'll be His queen and I shall be at your orders, but you won't need me anymore."
She turned the head as she was leaving so she could look at him and her eyes were shining none-too-gently.
"Then pray for me to be merciful to you if you care for your life, brother."
The priest shivered.
"Oh, and don't even think of pushing me in the precipice outside. First I don't think He would be happy that you killed His queen and secondly I don't think either that I would be the one falling... but I'm sure I wouldn't catch you this time. I only make mistakes once."
"Guardian..."
"No! My patience is very thin, Rankham, and you've already tired it all. Do not tempt your luck now. I would throw you in the precipice myself instead of only letting you stumble in it."
"The side you chose forbids you such actions," grinned Rankham.
"Oh, I would gladly step away from it just for the time to throw you in it."
Rankham grinned again, as if he was challenging her. She suddenly jumped on him and seized him by the collar of his black robe.
"Do not tempt me," she hissed. "I have a demon blade in my boot and it would take less time for me to drive it in your heart than for you to remember the name of your most familiar prayer."
This time Rankham didn't answer: the look in Delilah's eyes was not reassuring at all. She slowly let go of him and, in two bounds, she reached the door, disappearing from Rankham's sight.
Once out, she breathed deeply and she was trembling violently as if she really had had to make a great effort on herself for not killing Rankham. Cinnabar came to her and she buried her face in the soft fur of his chest. Tyrael wondered what comfort a hellish steed could bring her.
Then she finally raised the head and exclaimed with rage:
"Oh I wish I was never born!"
"Why is it so?"
"Doomed to be His queen! Zeloran's priest deceived me, death won't save me from this fate!" she howled in anguish. "Not born not born I wish to be!"
"What has been born cannot be unborn," said Tyrael flatly.
"Bear Him many sons! My sons attacking Angels and setting the Watchers to rule Heaven! And I would have to witness all this!"
Tyrael put his hands on her shoulders.
"There's only one way for this not to happen: you will defeat Him and then, when you die, nobody will claim you from your endless sleep."
"He will have my soul even so, for us to be united in the place I would have imprisoned Him," she said dazed, as if not realising fully her words.
"No, I will have your soul, remember?"
"Why? You heard Vortigern calling me his daughter, the Demons' sister, and yet you would save my soul? Why?"
"I owe it to your mother," he said simply.
She shook the head, very sadly, not even angered he had spoken once more of Lilith.
"The same you cannot reproach to a child the crimes of his parents so you cannot transfer on the child whatever good his parents did nor the feelings you had for them if they don't deserve them."
"Who said you weren't deserving?"
"I did."
"Well, if you so wish to die, there's still the precipice near. I'm sure Rankham would be ecstatic to give you a hand!" exclaimed Tyrael, half-challenging her.
"I said I wanted not to be born, not that I wanted to die," rectified calmly Delilah, her fingers tangled in Cinnabar's mane and the Archangel wondered once again what were the powers of the hellish steed to manage to bring her to her senses.
"Exact difference?" he asked.
"I want justice to be done to my mother!" she growled. "It's too late now for quitting; I have to go ahead, always, and the gods help me make the good choices!"
"The gods are mostly favourable to the Angels."
"Yes, you live near them, it helps a bit. I know, but it doesn't change anything. I stand this side too, after all."
"Isn't it the usual choice for Guardians?"
"Not really. Often our name is mistaken because people expect us to be the guardians of the current order, which we are not."
"What do you guard then?" asked Tyrael, sitting down on a rock near the precipice.
"Don't stay here, it makes me nervous," she said. "Go away from that abyss."
"I can fly if I fall," he objected, surprised, while obeying her.
"I know but... I have dreams - or visions - sometimes and in one of them I saw the body of an Angel falling in this precipice and he was not flying. I don't know if it was you or not but I'm not going to take any risk."
"Thank you. I shall be careful," he said seriously.
"Good. Anyway, for your question, it's quite amusing you should ask. I would have thought Chyraz would have told you extensively about it when he named you Angel of Guardians."
"He was quite in a hurry," grinned Tyrael. "Actually he did, but I would like to know if you define it the same way."
She half-smiled.
"Probably not. As I told you once, we are the memory of Heaven, Earth and Hell. We watch the events unfold and sometimes we step forward to bring help to whoever we think deserve it. Sometimes - most of the times - it's Angels but sometimes it's Demons. Actually there were some Guardians who enjoyed helping Demons; naturally they were deposed shortly afterwards since they were fallen according to your point of view - which is the rule. Someday, maybe, we Guardians will help Demons conquer Heaven... Does it match Chyraz's definition?"
"Pretty much, actually," Tyrael agreed sadly. "He added that the gods fear that moment."
"I guess so. Maybe Erza will replace Illustra if it happens but then again, maybe not."
A silence.
"So now the fight begins?" asked Tyrael softly.
She shivered violently.
"Not yet. Not yet... but so soon."
"Are you going to walk fearlessly in Hell's mouth, stand proudly in front of Him and say: 'Over my dead body, monster!'?" Tyrael teased her gently.
"Almost," she smiled.
"So?"
"Ah, come..."