Heaven: The infraction

Tyrael looked down at Delilah. His heart twisted when seeing her with her arms burnt, her chest twice stabbed and her face so pale. He closed the eyes, trying to calm down; his anger at Baal wouldn't help. He had to concentrate. He began with what he called the easy work, healing her arms at first, somehow knowing that there were spells on them. He still remembered Delilah's pain when she had worked on his fetters.
It took him longer than Rshkiel did for healing her hand, but he took care of checking everything twice, not really willing to find another soul stone stuck in her arm. He healed again her hand, insisting until it looked like the other one, forcing all traces of the soul stone to disappear.
Then, with a sigh, he took care of the two deep wounds in the chest. The first one, which was the deepest, was the hardest, for angelic swords were rarely nice to demon blood and the encounter of both generally gave quite a sickening result. The wound seemed burnt, but it was still less dark than the wound inflicted by the demon blade.
Once all her wounds were healed, Delilah looked like she was sleeping - though a bit pale - except that the blood on her clothes was quite telling another tale. The hardest was left to do: Tyrael had now to revive her, to call back her soul into her body now healed and viable.
It took time. He still remembered the lessons Raphael had given him on the subject and he also remembered when Raphael had given Delilah a new life. It needed pure dedication and concentration, though he had to be careful not to get lost in his healing, for he would be lost forever. It was one of the reasons he had wanted to be alone; another breathing in the room was very disturbing in such a state of concentration and only healers with Raphael's experience could manage the thing without making any mistake. The other reason was that he would have hated to have a witness to his failure.
He could feel his last forces fading away quickly and hoped the healing - reviving - wouldn't last too long now. He was beginning to lose his balance and coloured points were dancing in front of his eyes. He had the impression to feel the soul slip between his fingers, as if trying to escape for somewhere else, and he concentrated even harder, clenching the jaws hard. His head felt like it was exploding.
Then he heard someone draw a deep ragged breath and he gave the remaining of his strength to the healing before looking down. Delilah's eyes were open and she was looking at him. Contrary to the previous healings, her gaze was clear.
"Tyrael..." she whispered before frowning. "Why do you have blood on your clothes? Are you hurt?"
Tyrael smiled foolishly.
"No, it's yours. Delilah, I'm so glad you're alive that I could... I could..."
Unable to say more, he took her in his arms and kissed her. He half-expected her to push him away, but she didn't and simply closed her eyes. Reluctantly, he released her.
"Sorry for the pain," he murmured. "It's just that I so much wanted to... to hold you."
"Don't be sorry. A bit of pain for... tenderness, it's not too high a price to pay."
"No!" he protested at once. "Love should never hurt."
"Then love between us is impossible," she said slowly, glancing nervously at the floor. "Because it will always hurt."
Tyrael knew she was right, yet he was sad that she had pointed it out so soon. He looked at her; her pale cheeks were covered with a faint blush and she was braced against the pain torturing her, due to both the healing and the kiss. She saw his concerned gaze and tried to smile at him.
"Does it hurt a lot?" he asked.
"It's more bearable than usually," she admitted. "I must be getting used to it."
"It would be so wonderful if it stopped to hurt at all," said Tyrael, his gaze intense on her.
She smiled again and he was surprised to see how her whole face opened. Defiance faded from her eyes, which opened like a flower under the soft caress of the sun. The warrior had disappeared to let place to the true Delilah.

From years ago, he remembered a voice, Lilith's proud voice as she was talking of her daughter:
"She's just like a flower, Tyr! Nothing can taint her, she has a look of wonder for everything, a smile for everybody! I'm so glad she overcame the... bad news."
He hadn't seen any of this when he had first met her, but now he could see what Lilith meant. He wondered if she had ever repeated it to her daughter; he wondered also if she had understood that her daughter was hiding her pain from her. Knowing Delilah, he had some doubts.
"She called you a flower," he said slowly. "She marvelled at your wonder, at each of your smiles. She was so proud of you."
Suddenly, it seemed important for him to tell her of Lilith. She didn't lose her smile, but her eyes filled with tears and, once again, he marvelled at the fact she accepted to be vulnerable with him.
"I know, now. I've learnt so many things lately. My anger against my father all these past years was so stupid. Rshkiel told me... There was something I hadn't understood."
"What was it?" he asked, taking her hand in his.
"That he couldn't let pass a unique chance of love after having sacrificed so much already. He was right and I was selfish in my hate for him."
"What about you?" said Tyrael, wondering if there was a chance she would forgive herself as she had forgiven her father. "You're denying yourself a chance to love."
She looked seriously at him.
"You know my chances at love. If I'm not mistaken, I have two choices: Baal or you. The first one is out of question and the second one... is impossible."
"Love will conquer all!" exclaimed Tyrael with a mocking smile.
She laughed gently.
"No, it won't. Even if I hadn't made that promise long ago, you know the new law in Heaven. They would cast you away or maybe kill you. I wonder what they would have done to Rshkiel if he had bonded with me before they cast him away," she added thoughtfully.
"Speaking of Rshkiel, we should better go see him before he comes to skin me alive!"
For the first time, Delilah looked around her and paled.
"Where are we, Tyrael? Don't tell me you... oh, no, you brought me to Heaven again!"
"If you already know, why do you ask?" he said, winking to her. "It was the easiest for me to heal you. Come, we have to ask our clothes to Valiel also."
"Clothes?" she repeated, a bit surprised.
"Naturally. I hope you're not thinking me rude enough to let you wander in my house in bloodstained clothes. It looks very messy."
Delilah stood up, her hand still in Tyrael's, and, as soon as she put her feet on the ground, she winced and stepped back.
"What is it?" frowned Tyrael.
"Nothing," she managed between clenched teeth. "I just need... to control it again..."
"I know it's hard for you," he said. "I wish there was something I could do, a way for me to take your pain on me so you would never suffer again..."
"There are no guardian angels," she said with a twisted smile.
She straightened up and looked straight in his eyes.
"I'm feeling better now," she announced.

They were both tired and hungry, and stumbled when arriving at the threshold. Shoulder against shoulder, they couldn't pass and began to laugh heartily at their own clumsiness. Rshkiel was here in a heartbeat, taking Delilah in his arms.
"Dee! Oh Angel, the things you do!"
"Angel?" repeated Tyrael. "I didn't know that."
"He uses that name for me to forget I'm a Demon's offspring," grinned Delilah. "Rshkiel, alright, I'm sound and safe, now let me go."
"You were dead!"
Her face darkened slightly.
"So I remember," she murmured.
"Your clothes, my lady," said formally a young Angel, whose face was unfathomable.
"You must be Valiel," she said. "Raphael told me you were taking good care of Tyrael."
He blushed at the praise and glanced at Tyrael.
"Not enough obviously," he murmured with a sigh.
"Nonsense. It's just that he doesn't help."
She grinned impishly at Tyrael, who shrugged and laughed.
"What can I say? It's true."
Rshkiel looked at both of them.
"What on earth happened to you? He killed Dee maybe one hour ago and you two are laughing!"
"He didn't kill me," said Delilah with dignity. "I did, with Tyrael's sword and my blade."
"And He was really not happy about it," Tyrael put in.
"It's because of your sword. You see, using it guaranteed He couldn't reach me."
"Yet He said that if you had accepted something from Him..."
"Ah yes! It would have counterbalanced the power of your sword. I think."
They began a theoretical discussion on Baal's powers, where and when it ended, as they were walking slowly back to the room they had just come from. Rshkiel sighed.
"I don't understand a thing! Do you?"
Valiel noticed the way Tyrael was listening to Delilah, how he cocked his head on the side with a light smile, how at ease they seemed to be together, and he smiled unexpectedly.
"Yes, yes, I do. I'm so glad. Naturally, it will bring many troubles, but after a while, quiet life really turns out to be boring. I mean, with the Demons' threat and such, we can't get that much more in trouble, can we?"
"What on earth are you talking about?" frowned Rshkiel.
"Why, it's obvious. They've just declared their love to each other."
"No, no, no. They can't do that! She cannot fall in love like this, and with him, and..."
"They know," interrupted Valiel gently, though he had lost his smile. "She cannot stay here and he cannot follow her on earth or else he will fall. And he's already in so much trouble that I don't think they'll forgive this one like they forgave the last one. I mean, he brought you here, he brought her here again and let her see Heaven and now, they're in love. I don't think he can break more rules than he already had. If he's lucky when they find out, he will only be cast away. If he's not, they'll probably both die. They know perfectly what they're playing with, but I really can't deny them these few moments of happiness."
Rshkiel looked at them, Tyrael still standing on the threshold, talking to Delilah who had managed to step in the room, and he nodded sadly.
"I agree. It's up to us to make believe everything is normal."
"The first thing we have to do," added Valiel thoughtfully, "is to keep Tyrael inside. He looks so happy that everybody would instantly know that something had happened. Of course, I'm glad to see him this happy, mind you, but..."
"True. I wonder if they already know Delilah is dead."
"In what would that help us?"
"Well, last time, he was so angry that he brought her here and accused gods, priests and Angels at the same time. This time, it could explain why he doesn't go out."
"True, very true. The Angel of Guardians brooding over the death of his last Guardian. Now, let's tell them."

They came near Tyrael and Delilah.
"Now, you see," Delilah was saying, "even though a part of you knows he's lying, you cannot doubt his word. If in the middle of the night he told you that it's sunny outside, you wouldn't doubt him; you would rather doubt your eyes. So when he tells me he has feelings for me, I know somehow that it's not true, that he's only using me, but yet, I feel compassion for him. He likes to confuse me. You can never really hate someone who tells you sadly how much he - or she - loves you."
"What is his goal then?"
"It's easy enough to figure: he hopes I'll get the world rid of Him so that he can take His place."
"What does Lucifer think of that?"
"He doesn't care. He's hiding somewhere, writing a poem about 'the Angel of the fallen star', whatever it means. He let them play their petty games; when he wants the power, he will reduce them at his mercy, don't worry for him."
"I certainly do not!" exclaimed Valiel forcefully.
Delilah and Tyrael, both surprised by the intervention, burst out laughing.
"This will never do," said Valiel, reprovingly shaking the head.
While he explained the situation to Tyrael, Delilah disappeared in the room to change and though the long white tunic was looking quite strange with her boots, it suited her well. Tyrael smiled at her.
"A true Angel," he commented. "You need to rest, Delilah. And so do I, by the way," he added with a yawn.
"I won't stay here very long," she said slowly.
"I know. I hope you'll stay long enough to taste Valiel's cooking. He would be very disappointed if you didn't."
She laughed.
"I will," she promised.
He leaned toward her and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as her bracelet shone silver.
"I've not seen her so happy in a very long time," murmured Rshkiel. "She doesn't even seem to suffer from our presence."
"Knowing her, I would rather say that she's hiding her pain," said Valiel.
"True," sighed Rshkiel. "Won't the other Angels feel the presence of her demon blood or her demon blade?"
Valiel looked at him mockingly.
"As I already told you, this house is protected. The Angel of Guardians can thus do whatever he wants. I just hope he won't bring here a real Demon," he added with a shudder.
"I can understand that," commented Rshkiel very seriously. "A fallen Angel and the offspring of a Demon are already fairly enough."
"Exactly! Come; if we wait for them to finish their goodnights, we'll still be there tomorrow morning."
Rshkiel chuckled and followed Valiel as Tyrael and Delilah were still murmuring things to each other, totally oblivious of the world around them.

Tyrael was looking at the ceiling, trying to realise what had happened. Had Delilah really accepted his love? It seemed unbelievable. He sighed. His thoughts were circling and getting him nowhere, even depriving him of the rest he so sorely needed. Above him was Delilah's room and he almost could hear the creaks of her bed. Of course, Valiel would indignantly deny that the beds creaked, but Tyrael liked to imagine that it was Delilah he heard, that maybe she was as restless as he was...
Then he suddenly sat on his bed. He hadn't imagined the noise he had just heard. Footsteps. Somebody was walking in the room just above his head. Maybe Delilah needed something, maybe she was hurting because of the healing, because she was in Heaven, maybe...
Tyrael was already at his door, opening it, and his thoughts stopped dead: Delilah was there, dressed all in white, barefoot, her dark hair cascading on her shoulders and back. He had no idea how she had managed to go down the stair so fast but he truly didn't care. He couldn't help thinking that he just loved the way one lock was curling against her neck, which looked as white as a swan's in the dim candlelight of the corridor.
"What is it?" he asked urgently.
"It hurts," she said, looking at him like a trusting child.
His heart sank.
"The healing? Heaven? You want to return on earth to find Cinnabar?"
She shook the head, shivering.
"No. It hurts when I'm away from you."
He took her in his arms, thinking that maybe she was cold. He was right, she was frozen, and she was trembling even in his arms.
"Can I stay with you?" she asked shyly. "I won't bother you, I'll stay in a corner..."
"Nonsense."
He lifted her in his arms and lay down on his bed, covering their bodies with the warm blanket.
"My honour is your guardian," he whispered.
"I trust you," she murmured back.
She placed a gentle kiss on his lips and drifted to sleep almost immediately, safe and warm in his embrace. Tyrael couldn't sleep. He looked down at her: she was looking so trusting, her head abandoned against his chest, her dark hair spread around her. He felt a lump in his throat.
"Oh, Delilah!" he breathed. "You're just a child... And I, an Archangel, should know better than care so much for you, yet I cannot help it... One look at you is enough for me to lose my last coherent idea. I feel so foolishly happy when I'm with you and now, now, you feel the same! Oh, Delilah, what have I done to you?"
He took a deep breath and added very softly:
"What have you done to me?"
He rested his cheek against her hair and half-closed the eyes. He opened them suddenly, fixing her wrist: the onyx of her bracelet was definitely shimmering silver.

Valiel almost had an heart attack when he opened Tyrael's door the following morning and saw him looking down at Delilah with tender concern, a wing on her like a blanket, the other twisted back in the most uncomfortable way ever for an Angel.
"Goodness gracious!" he exclaimed, still mindful of keeping his voice down. "Did I make a dreadful mistake when showing her room to her and did I show her the wrong floor?"
"Not at all. But it seems... she hurts when I'm too far. It's uncommon for a Demon's offspring, I'm sure."
"This will never do," frowned Valiel. "You two need a chaperone, that's what you need!"
"We've got Rshkiel and you," said Tyrael with a smile.
"So she can run to you as soon as we turn our back? And barefoot, what's more! She could have caught her death. Goodness gracious, what a mess!"
"Mess?" asked Delilah sleepily. "What kind of mess?"
"Open the eyes, young lady!" exclaimed Valiel with the tone of someone who cared far too much for conventions.
She did and instantly turned red.
"Oh my, oh my!" she murmured. "What have I done?"
She disentangled herself from Tyrael's embrace and stood before him, still furiously blushing from embarrassment. The Archangel stood up and worked on stretching the wing he had twisted the whole night long.
"Lady, you are going to catch a cold. Please, allow me to at least fetch you slippers," said Valiel.
He almost ran away and, a few moments later, Tyrael and Delilah could hear a burst of laughter. They sheepishly glanced at each other then grinned foolishly.
"We did nothing wrong," said Tyrael with a logical tone.
"Nothing at all," emphasised Delilah.
They burst out laughing.

The day passed quickly for Delilah. From the windows of his house, half-hidden behind the curtains so they wouldn't be seen from outside, Tyrael showed her the wonders of Heaven.
"Heaven is calm," she said slowly. "Hell is always hectic and so it is on earth."
"Your lives are so short, it's normal that you always live in a hurry. As for the Demons, they're always in haste to do evil."
"But why are you not getting ready to affront His armies, since I'm dead now?"
Tyrael shifted uncomfortably his weight from one foot to the other.
"They think His ambitions have been nipped in the bud with your death. If I'm to trust Valiel's report, there was a meeting not long ago, during which they decided that He only wanted to rule over all realms so He could offer them to you."
"And thus He swore an oath, that He would conquer the world and bend it to His will so that He could bring it at His lady's feet and she shall be His queen for He had given her the world..."
"Yes. Well, no, but..."
"So they think I want to rule over all realms and that He is just my puppet. How on earth did I become so powerful to their eyes?"
"It is said that you defeated two white warriors of Varaxador."
"Two? Oh, Antonian and Nymrial. Except that I never defeated Nymrial."
"Don't I know it? Anyway, they say now that you have the powers of gods, for nobody else but gods can defeat white warriors, especially the ones of Varaxador."
"Goodness! If I had the powers of gods, don't they think I'd get the world rid of Him? Don't they forget something? I have inside me a curse that can hurt only Demons or me and that will doom me for all eternity if I let the Demons invade this world! Speak of a choice for me!"
Tyrael paled.
"I didn't know this. I don't think anybody knows!"
"That's what I reproach them! They don't know anything but they accuse. I'm now their greatest fear for the most stupid reason ever!"
"Be nice to them, they're only Angels, after all," said Tyrael teasingly.
"Ha!" began Delilah before frowning and taking her head in her hands. "Blast her! There are other ways of communication that yelling."
"What's happening, Delilah?" he asked, instantly worried.
"Shela," she said with a disgusted tone.
"Where? Here?"
"Of course not. I wouldn't be calmly standing here if it was the case. I don't know where, but she's yelling again."
"What is she yelling?" asked Tyrael, puzzled. "I don't hear a sound."
"I don't know yet, I have to concentrate. I know she's yelling because the louder she gets, the more it hurts me. But the words are quite blurry. I used to hear them a lot better."
"How is it you can hear her?"
"Part of my Guardianship. I can hear when Angels and Demons get angry. I suppose it's because it allows us to know earlier when something is going to happen," she replied, shrugging carelessly.
But Tyrael wasn't careless. He was looking at her with a sort of horror in his eyes.
"What is it?" she asked, frowning.
"Only... only Demons can hear when Angels quarrel too loudly."
"Lilith told me it was a faculty given to Guardians," she persisted.
Tyrael shook the head.
"I've never heard of such a thing for Guardians and I'm sure that if we ask Rshkiel, he won't have heard of it either.
Delilah shrugged again.
"Then she lied, pretending it came with Guardianship so I wouldn't feel bad about another gift inherited from my demon blood."
"You don't understand, Delilah. Only powerful Demons can hear Angels and vice-versa. I can't hear Demons shouting, but Raphael can."
"Then my blood is powerful. After all, I am the long-lost daughter of Baaladamon. Rashiel can hear you quarrel also. Maybe because he was an Angel before."
"No. The Seraphim strip them of this power - and others - because casting them away. If he can indeed hear us - aside of all his lies and claims - then he has been given this power and he's a lot more powerful than we thought. So what is she saying?"
"I don't know. I used to hear you as clear as if you were in the next room, but now, though her voice sounds like thunder in my head, the words make no sense. Weird."
"That and you hurt when you are separated from me. The torture after my healing didn't seem as strong as before. Could it be... that your demon blood is getting weaker?"
They looked at each other for a moment, then Delilah let go the breath she had been holding.
"That's a sweet dream of mine, but it's still nothing more than a dream. And anyway, weaker demon blood is still demon blood and it's still powerful enough for me to hear you Angels quarrelling."
Tyrael agreed sadly and was going to say something when Valiel called them for lunch.
"Better be going. Valiel hates when I'm late for meals."
"Very sensible of him," grinned Delilah.
She enjoyed a lot Valiel's cooking - especially that she hadn't had a good meal since she had left Josh's - and the young Angel beamed under her praises. Tyrael was looking at them with a light smile while Rshkiel was brooding and toying with his food. Rshkiel had a knack for always finding something to brood over.

After lunch, they began to talk about Delilah's return on earth. The subject was difficult for both of them, but they knew they hadn't any choice. Tyrael unrolled a map on the table. It was mostly from the region of Moen but he thought it would be enough.
"Cinnabar and Yawni are waiting for you somewhere here," he said, pointing at the green spot representing the Stony Woods.
"And I need to go somewhere there," she replied, pointing even more south than Volnaria.
Tyrael grunted.
"What for?"
"Rshkiel hid his angelic blade there. South of Volnaria, there's like a forest of cactus. Rshkiel hates this place, so he hid his sword there. It's far enough from any known entry to the demon realm and it's in a place where he never goes, so He's not going to look there for it."
"Are you sure Rshkiel hid it there?" asked Tyrael, sceptical.
"Nope. But it seems logical to me. If you really want, you can go ask him, but I'm pretty sure he'll say like me."
Tyrael grunted again.
"Alright. Is there any holy place near that weird forest of yours?"
"It's not my forest and if you don't like it, go complain to Rshkiel. As for your question, I have absolutely no idea. I've never been there. It's part of the region of Joren and Mirkhal would have skinned me alive if I had set foot on his territory."
"Joren, Joren... I should have a map of the region with the holy places... Now, the question is where did I put it?"
He began to look among all this maps, muttering names Delilah had not even heard of. Then he had a shout of triumph.
"Joren! So... ah, very good. There's a holy place west of your forest."
He wrinkled his nose.
"Now, I don't remember what holy place it is exactly, but I'm not sure it's a good one. Oh, well, never mind. Anything else?"
"Actually, yes. I need also to go there."
"Jeniah? Why so? Where exactly?"
"Not very far. I need to see Varaxador's priests."
Tyrael sighed.
"I think I'm going to hear about Nymrial."
"Don't be jealous, it would really be silly. Varaxador's priests have something I need and it's the occasion for me to tell them about Antonian's betrayal. They probably won't believe me but I've got to try."
"Antonian's dead. Why would they care about his betrayal now?"
"Because they may not know yet that he's dead, unless Nymrial found his body. But I doubt it, because very few people like the idea of burying themselves in the Stony Woods. What's more, they may be expecting him for whatever reason."
"Alright, alright. I do not like the idea of you going back there, but obviously, you got your mind set. Now, explain to me how you intended to do that without my help."
"No idea. It was going to take a lot of time, which I don't have. But I can't defeat Him without an angelic blade and Rshkiel's is the only one really available."
"And Varaxador's priests?" insisted Tyrael.
Delilah sighed.
"A hope I have. It may not work, but if it doesn't, it will give more power to Furtifer's curse."
Then she frowned and cursed under her breath.
"She really doesn't stop, does she?"
"Shela again?"
"Still! She has never stopped and she's getting even louder!"
"What is going on?" muttered Tyrael, frowning in turn. "I'd really like to know... It's not like Shela to yell all day long..."
"Does she ever care for other people's ears?" asked Delilah irritably.
Tyrael had a brief smile.
"As a matter of fact, no. That's really the least of her cares."
They started as someone banged at the door. They listened attentively as Valiel opened the door and answered. They heard his cry of surprise - and dismay, Delilah thought - then he concluded:
"I'll tell him."
The other added something but Valiel repeated forcefully:
"I'll tell him, I said. You may rest assured that he will know in time what he needs to know."
Valiel closed the door and came immediately to Tyrael and Delilah. Silently, Rshkiel entered behind him and leaned on the wall to listen. Valiel's face was very serious.
"Bad news, Tyrael," he said darkly. "The council wants to see you."