Short Story: Galactic Confessionary part 4.0

Yin and Yang

“It surprised me when I realised what had happened, such a slow then suddenly immediate process love is. I was in the middle before I realised I had even began, worse was that I felt her love for me. A love she too was consciously unaware of, as though our hearts had been conspiring in secret.”

“We embarked upon a love affair we knew was doomed from the start, unable and unwilling to do anything else but love each other. I knew it was wrong, no I was told it was wrong, but I knew, I knew nothing in my existence could compare, could ever come close to the feeling of when she looked at me with love in her eyes. I cannot and will not deny the purity of love.”
Zachary paused for such a long time that the confessionary that according to the higher angels didn’t exist spoke.

“Angel, you know they are coming for you,” she whispered softly in Rubarian, “run, you must run, whatever the soul claims, the higher angels will never allow such a union to exist openly.”

“It is why you are here on Hoxcer?”

“Hoxcer for all its problems is a planet that merely judges you on your personality, uncaring of anything else but that, and that for me is everything. To be accepted for who I am, not what I am. You and I both know how rare such a thing is even in the most advanced and seemingly civilised planets.” The confessionary said.

Zachary’s brow furrowed as déjà vu hit him, the confessionary reminded him of someone.

“What is your name?”

“Shosana,” She said softly. “Why do you ask?” she paused, “Do you? Do you know my parents?”

The partition opened and he saw her face without the haze.

Zachary unbelieving of what his yes saw blinked and leaned forward. “Your mother is higher angel –”

A noise disturbed the words he would have spoken as they both looked to the left.

“They have breached the outer perimeter, you must run Angel!” Shosana said urgently.

Zachary still reeling from the discovery of her origins nodded and activated the telepad, he spared one last look at the half angel before teleporting himself home.

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Short Story: Galactic Confessionary part 4 ⅔

Yin and Yang

“Have you…have you come to tell your story?” She asked uncertainly, “you know what I am?”

“Yes, and I also know who you are, a woman who keeps her identity a secret even from friends, fear not, your secrets are still your own to tell, should you ever feel a need.” He paused as he heard her exhale, “shall I begin?”

“Are you sure about this?” She asked genuinely concerned.

Zachary smiled. “Yes, and even if I was not, your presence alone would compel the truth from my lips.” He felt her confusion and conscious of the fact that she had probably never met or even spoken to another angel before he elaborated. “All angels have similar abilities, healing, speed, and strength but there are a gifted few who have more, such as yourself, you can compel the truth from people with your mere presence alone. Not everyone who walks through these doors always has the intention of telling you the truth, like the Ganzarian, their keen instincts is not an ability many Ganzarian admit to.”

“I…erm, I did not know this.” She said on a shaky voice.

“Now you do,” he said softly.

Zachary cleared his throat.

“My name,” he began at a normal volume in the universal language, “I am an angel, yes, I hear some of you ask, it is me, the angel that has fallen, swiftly, steeply into love with a being that is not of my kind,” Zachary paused again, he could hear the elevated heartbeats of the six members of staff that worked at the confessionary and he wondered if he should continue.

“I did not mean to, what I mean to say is that I did not purposely fall. I felt, like all angels do, myself immune to such mortal emotions. I had several hundred charges I looked after, good mortals for the most part, it was my job. Of course I had favourites, mortals I would spend more time with, talk to even, but I reasoned that a few of them had no one else to listen to their sorrow, and it worked once unburdened it made it easier for them to make friends of their own kind. But,” Zachary paused as he smiled remembering the surprise and even discontent he had felt when he realised what had happened, “I did not realise my heart had been keeping secrets, that it had singled out one of these mortals I called my favourites and had chosen her to be the object of my very existence.”

Plays: The Angel’s Choice: Act 2 Scene 1 con’t

Damien: I have heard whispers and rumours for some time – since my arrival from New England – my cousin Louisa – spoke of her friend who simply went missing – I decided to search around for this lost boy – for my heart was much grieved to hear of his disappearing. What I found has shocked and frightened me – it may do so to you

Salathiel: Pray go on – go on – I am a patient ear by your side.

Damien: This woman Victoria Dashwood of Avaritia – I scarcely wish to say it (pause) She is but a pretender – a woman who wants all and gives nothing – yes you may look at me with shock in your eyes – but I speak nothing but the truth – I have been told so by a trusted source – she only does such things to show off her wealth – what benefit to the poor have you seen her money do? I would not wish to speak so rashly of any acquaintance of yours but I have seen so myself –

Salathiel: You do speak too harshly! These are most definitely the work of much vicious rumours and lies! Though she is a woman of many vices, I shall grant you that – I have seen her generosity first hand – she went down to the orphanage –

Damien: Yes the orphanage – the orphanage! Where she plucked those whom parents did not see fit to raise and she brought them in – to work at her factories – to tend to her every whim and will – but in secret – so that no one could accuse her unjustly – she is false. She has fine words and an angelic appearance – is that what is to be associated with true virtue? Nay, I think not!

Salathiel: You are wrong, forgive me – you have been given the wrong information – I was at the orphanage that day. I saw her – in a light I never thought she possessed such gentility and grace when she spoke to those motherless children – she was more than myself that day – and if I had not respected her before – I loved her then. She may have her vices indeed she is too quick to anger – but generosity – that is her greatest trait – a trait which her children share in abundance.

Damien: Salathiel you are wrong in this instant – I may have been given the wrong information before – but I have seen it – I have seen her in a most unbecoming light – pray tell me – have you ever been to some of there new factories before?

Salathiel: I was at the unveiling –

Damien: – I speak of the new ones the ones Mr. Dashwood has just opened – not that one he unveiled and made a show of to the entire town – the others – where people keep getting hurt because he has hired too few people – you know of what I speak of

Salathiel: My mother did speak of him hiring too few people – but she has seen no children sent to her –

Damien: I see that they have a loyal and most just friend in you – whom anyone would be lucky to have – but I am quiet sure of what I speak of – how to right this wrong – ah – will you do me the honour of accompanying me to one of these factories? If I am wrong – I shall go straight to Mr. Dashwood and tell him myself of the vicious rumours I not only believed but help spread – as I have told you – I shall beg for his immediate forgiveness and if he does not – I shall through my self at his feet. Does that seem just to you?

Salathiel: You need not have to go through such extremes – when you are proven wrong – but for arguments sake – and to prove to you that such wickedness does not exist – I shall grant you the honour – when shall we prove you wrong?

Damien: You are too good – the whole world is good and agreeable in your eyes – but it is not and we should take pains to see that it is and not turn a blind eye or a deaf ear to such things.

Salathiel: Indeed – we should not – (pause) you believe the world can change?


Plays: The Angel’s Choice: Act 1 Scene 2

Act 1 Scene 2

[Isolde and Raphael are in Flo’s Garden. Isolde is pacing, her hair is loosely tied in a bonnet – her cheeks are flushed. Raphael sits on a bench watching her pace.]

Isolde: We are running out of time Raphy, one cannot wait forever for forever to be decided – it’s now or never, we must tell her of her destiny, else we shall all perish, you know as well as I do; that we cannot go on living. Mankind needs to wake from this perpetually horrific slumber that our actions – our actions led them to be in! Have you not felt it? Have you not?

Raphael: I have felt it, but we must not lose patience. Our wrath uncurbed will not fulfil the Gods perfect plan for us; we must be patient and refuse to fret to fume to fuss.

Isolde: The time for patience is over – I have allotted nearly hundred and eighteen years to patience – The deep remorse that’s in my soul no human eye may trace, if only the gods could see my broken heart and in it its woes erase. (pause) She must know. One does what one is, and one becomes what one does – how can she be who we seek if she is not known to herself? If you shall not join me – but I cannot do it without you – if it is to be done – and I assure you the time for action is now – the opportunity has presented itself. We must make haste.

(Raphael pulls her down onto the bench – and takes her by the shoulders – starring intently into her eyes.)

Raphael: Are you so quick – Isolde – to take away a young girls life? Patience – she will know in time – I fear a part of her already does – we have given enough advice to her parents – have trust in them – they know what they are doing. Lets us not blindly ask for what we crave, with haughty hearts and will so stout; else we’ll be denied what we seek, let us have the grace to do without. Have hope.

(Isolde rises – shaking him off, the bonnet falls off – her hair is free – she has curly white hair which frames her face. The light catches her face – she is striking)

Isolde: Have hope?! She is hope – our only hope – Shall we leave it to chance? No I think not. It is time, she will understand. We have watched her mature and grow. Now that she is back – I trust that she can handle it – she may need us. All these years we have lived, the things we know; are age demands that this wisdom shall show; who knows how much good some word we might say, could do for that one who’ wandered away?

Raphael: At present we may do more harm than good. Will you not give her a few more seasons, just a few more? Our unseen presence must comfort her, she must feel we are always near, and only when life’s storm besiege her soul, we will then say; ‘our angel where here’

 (Isolde throws her arms in the air in exasperation; there are tears in her eyes)

Isolde: I am scared Raphael okay! – There I admit it – I am fearful. If we should fail-

(Raphael rises in alarm)

Raphael: Speak not of those words – lest they be true.

Isolde: But if we should! A single grain of rice can tip the scale – if she should –

Raphael: Hush! We shall not fail! Have you lost all hope too? We are the guardians not the guarded – the advisers not the advised. Among all preservable things preserve your faith for there lies the source of Life. If your faith is lost then we have lost. Have faith Isolde in yourself – In Salathiel and in my own person. This business we are in requires it of us.

(She wipes away her tears and looks up at the sky)

Raphael: (quietlysome of us have not yet made our peace – some still suffer daily for what we wish we had not done. We need her. Where no counsel is, the people fall: but in the multitude of counsellors there is safety. We must prove not just to them but to our own selves that we deserve to be called the guardians once more.

(She moves close to him and casts about fearfully)

Isolde: You speak of the Fallen? Of Damien?

Raphael: No! No – I speak of us all – We say we are ready – now we shall put that readiness to the test. Now come away – she is approaching.

(He links his hand in hers and they retreat – hide behind a tree – they are barely visible – Salathiel approaches carrying a picnic basket – her and Eleanor are arm in arm – their faces are turned to each other as though they have been in conversation – Salathiel sets down the picnic basket and they both sit on a bench)