IN> "The Waters will Rise!" setting: Aftermath (second try)

[-=|horsefly|=-]

[Apparently this was too big the first time. Oops.]
The cameraman was setting up for a wide shot of the corpses, panning
toward the survivors, two children, both toddlers, who'd been playing
in the reeds when the village was attacked. Nybbas was brushing his
hands through his hair and nervously rubbing his nose, still acutely
aware of his missing glasses. Eli stood behind him, looking at the
emergency workers tending the kids and the others who were anxious to
clean up this scene of carnage as soon as the footage was filmed. "You
don't have to do this," he said.

Nybbas looked sharply at the Archangel. He hadn't sworn to Creation,
but even after his Redemption, he was still in Eli's custody. No
hurry, no rush, but someone should stick close to you until you find
your place among us, he'd been told. "Yes, I do. I couldn't be here to
stop this...," he gestured helplessly about, "but I'm going to make
certain it gets the attention it deserves!"

Creation regarded the younger Mercurian seriously, then put a hand on
his shoulder, "It's over, man. Saminga's back where he belongs. Belial
is gone. Word is, Hell is topsy-turvy over your switcharoo. Final
Justice reports Malphas has stepped in to fill the void you left, and
that means even more propaganda and misinformation. The chance of
alliances and cross-Word cooperation has gone down markedly. Factions
and Secrets both gained by your departure. Then again, you
orchestrated things to the benefit of Lust, Gluttony, and Hardcore, as
well. Mammon's rallying, so I hear, but with so much more at his
disposal, Haagenti might make a meal of him sooner than later. But
this broadcast isn't about any of that, and we both know that. You're
beating yourself up for what you couldn't stop, and you're angry we
didn't stop it fast enough." Nybbas opened his mouth to protest, but
his denials died in his throat with a look from Eli. "There are humans
here who can and want to do this story. Let them tell it. Let the
people care for each other. We both know they only make things better
when they do it themselves. Besides," he smiled at the crestfallen
look his Choirmate gave him, "there are a couple folks who want to
talk to you." He pointed behind Nybbas, then waved and walked off.

"Wait! Eli?!" Nybbas stared after his erstwhile protector, then,
turned around, more puzzled than disappointed about the story being
yanked out from under him. He'd never have let someone do that to him
before. Never have even considered letting someone tell him which
story he'd cover and which one he'd bury. So much had changed, he
reflected, and in so little time. Two figures approached him, one dark
and bearded, the other pale and clean-shaven. With a last look behind
him--Eli hadn't disappeared, but was talking with the two
children--Nybbas approached his visitors. He wasn't surprised when he
got Superior ineffability about both, but he recognized them, despite
never having seen them before. He licked his lips and tried a smile.
Failed. Tried another, "What can I do for you?"

The two regarded each other, then smiled at him. Gabriel spoke: "We
wanted to thank you for your part in the recent struggle. Without you,
things would have been much more difficult for everyone involved, and
the March would have likely continued even further." Nybbas blanched
at the prospect, the gratitude of two Archangels a little harder to
come to grips with than further suffering just yet. "I've spoken to
Dominic," continued the Archangel of Fire, "and he assures me of your
contrition. He and Eli both speak well of your intentions to make life
better for humanity. I'd like to make things easier, if I may." Nybbas
gulped at the proposition, looking at the outstretched arm. Help?
Unasked for, and without strings? Just to make life easier. "Better
for humanity," Gabriel had said.

"I... I don't know what to say," the new Mercurian replied, taking
Gabriel's hand firmly in his own, overcome with the gravity of the
situation. He was shaking hands with a legend. One of the firstborn of
heaven was thanking him! Then the magic fused through him, and he felt
himself awash in warmth. Love, safety, friendship, compassion,
righteous fury... he stared deep into Gabriel's eyes, and while there
was nothing for him to fear at this very moment, he could see why that
gaze had terrified so many. Right now the handshake they shared was
the most sincere example of the gesture he'd ever felt. "You...,"
Nybbas stammered, "you just--"

"Gifted you," Gabriel supplied, and clapped Nybbas on the shoulder. "I
trust you to use the Attunement well, and would welcome you among my
angels, should you choose to serve Fire." Nybbas looked at Gabriel for
a long moment more, and realized what the Archangel had left unsaid:
the more time you spend tending to other people who feel bad about
themselves, the less time you'll spend feeling bad about yourself--and
maybe learn just how valuable and wonderful you are. He reached
forward and hugged the Ofanite for his wisdom and generosity, and
Gabriel held him warmly, letting him go in time.

He found Oannes smiling at him; Gabriel stepped back a pace. How odd
that Fire and The Waters worked so closely, Nybbas thought. He sensed
no animosity, nor even rivalry between them--and that was his gut, not
his Resonance speaking. After all this time, he could always trust his
gut. It lead him here. He shook his head to clear it, uncertain if
he'd missed something. Oannes was holding out a canteen, the image of
an albatross embossed on the side, its long canvas strap dangling, "If
you truly desire to be the best Intercessionist you can be, I'd be
honored if you take this, as a symbol of my friendship." Blue eyes
sparkled, and the Mercurian was sure he was missing the punchline to a
joke. Still, he knew they didn't mean to hurt him, and it would be
rude to accept one gift and not the other... so he took the canteen in
both hands, and at a nod from the Archangel of The Waters, unscrewed
the cap and took a drink. The feeling that washed through him was the
greatest satisfaction he'd ever known from indulging in earthly
delights--and oh, how he'd once indulged! One simple swig of water, he
marveled, and took another. He drank and drank, but the canteen never
felt any lighter! Oannes' laughter filled his ears, just as the water
filled his insides, and he wanted to laugh as well. That's when he
noticed something else: he'd become the albatross.

Oannes confirmed, "Wherever you sail, no storm or waves will overturn
your vessel. You and those you travel with can ride the waters in
safety, knowing that I smile upon you." Nybbas re-capped the canteen
and slung it over one shoulder. The two clasped each other's arms,
then Nybbas hugged the bigger man in turn. Oannes laughed in his ear,
mussing his short red curls. "Take care of yourself, little one, and
take care of those around you as thoroughly as you took care of those
who were not your brothers and sisters when you first lent us your
aid. We will be with you to offer ours in turn."

"I will," Nybbas affirmed, "I will! And thank-you both. Can I... is
there anything... do you want to...?" He'd never felt so tongue-tied.

"You have your obligations," Gabriel intoned, "as we have ours. We
will meet again. You are welcome in the Volcano--"

"--just as you are welcome amid the Grotto," Oannes smiled. The two
turned then and walked away. Nybbas watched them fade, then turned
back to Eli and the human crew. The news reporters were wrapping up,
and a few missionaries were filming for their own fund raising
efforts. Nybbas wasn't worried about the missionaries. He and Eli had
personally selected them; the money these people generated would go to
the right places. Humanitarian aid would follow, and likely more
reporters. With so many people concerned for those who'd been killed
or victimized, China would have a hard time keeping her other secrets.
Take that, Alemon! Eat that, Kronos! He felt so good right now... he
figured he'd join Eli and make friends with those little kids, let
them know someone cares.

-- 
-=|horsefly|=-

"It was a different time: a time of blood and guns and killings.... It
was a time when killers needed saints, for so much of God's
good work was being done."
 --SAINT OF KILLERS #4, Garth Ennis