"And here I thought I was all alone," he responded, looking back over his shoulder slightly. The voice was immediately recognizable, but there was something in it that he'd never heard before, and it wasn't the mock anger.
"In this place?" the deep voice replied. "Have you ever actually been alone here?"
"No, I suppose not," he shrugged. "But considering the condition of it all,..." he trailed off.
"Speaking of conditions, I could use a bit of help myself," the voice groaned.
Raven turned and looked back into the darker recesses of the large chamber adjacent to the terrace. A life force was buried beneath several layers of crumbled stone. Crossing the room, he walked up to the largest pile of rubble. Several walls had fallen inward, tearing gaping holes in the ceiling, and surrounding walls. Apparently trapping one of the oldest denizens of this place in the process.
"Well my friend," he said as he knelt down to peer into the dark shadows beneath the wreckage. "It's just a good thing you're big, or you'd be far beyond my help."
"You'll excuse me if I find little comfort in that fact at this very moment," the voice replied sharply. Raven smiled slightly in spite of it all. He was willing to accept any reason to escape the black mood he was in. Pain was the odd quality in that voice, it was something he never thought he'd hear coming from this one, but there were several tons of rock resting comfortably atop this unfortunate creature.
He stood up, took a few steps back, and drew in a long slow breath. Focusing his attention, he began to exert himself against the stones. Huge blocks began to fall away as the massive walls were moved upward and away from the center of the pile. He could hear intermittent groans from the creature pinned to the floor, as the pressure eased. Once the weight had been completely displaced, he pushed. Tons of stone flew back and away from where they had fallen, crashing and shattering against the far walls.
An enormous black dragon breathed a long, slow sigh of relief. Tentatively flexing and stretching to assess the damage, he winced as he moved his right arm and wing. Raven sighed and walked over to place his hand on the injured area. The dragon smoothly rotated his massive head to follow. As dragons went, Irrisahi was huge. His head was the size of the average car, the eyes watching so carefully, were slightly larger than basketballs. His glistening hide was beautifully jeweled with scales like obsidian and hematite. As heavily muscled as he was armored, with a wingspan of more than 100 meters, he was extremely formidable. That, added to the ability to hurl a stream of viscous flame over a distance of more than 200 meters, made him a creature to be reckoned with on many levels.
But to Raven, he may as well have been a big teddy bear. He was as much a part of this place as the Watch itself, and at the mercy of it's creator, sporadic as that quality was of late.
His wing twitched and shuddered a bit as a painful spasm shot through it.
"Hold still," Raven told him, tapping him on the nose. "This won't hurt a bit."
"It already hurts,...and just when did you give up overkill dark one?" the dragon smirked. Raven cleared his throat loudly, which Irrisahi took as a serious sign to be silent. Like any dragon, he was sarcastic, but knew when not to push it. Small as Raven was by comparison, he had just hurled many tons of solid rock through the air like ashes on a storm wind, this fact was not lost on the dragon, nor had it ever been.
Letting his focus make it's own way in and around the wounds, the angel began to push gently. Bone and tissue pulled together smoothly as he went, blood vessels sealed, and tendons wove themselves back together. Moving up along the wing to the shoulder, he popped the joint back into place painlessly, then continued down along the rib cage. The shattered bone fragments melted back together like hot wax, and the swollen musculature eased back into normal shape. Pushing a bit deeper, he found some internal bleeding, which he quickly staunched.
Irrisahi closed his eyes and finally relaxed as the last of the pain faded. With a final push, a rush of shimmering light ran over the dragons entire body, leaving the jet-black hide looking like polished gems.
"The least I could do," Raven shrugged, as he stepped back, examining his handiwork. The dragon nodded. "I was looking a bit scuffed I guess." Raven suddenly frowned a bit, and stepped back further, prompting Irrisahi to raise an eye ridge.
"Umm," the angel muttered. "Dragon breath," he finished.
The dragon threw his head back and roared, belching a huge cloud of fire towards the ceiling. "And you were expecting,...?" he said, still laughing in typical dragon fashion. The smell of industrial strength sulfur was a bit hard to stomach at times, which was just another reason Raven didn't consider dragons good house pets.
"I wasn't expecting anything different," he said quickly. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."
The dragon continued to chuckle at him, as he wandered slowly over to a large opening in the west wall and looked out over the smoldering landscape. It was late afternoon, and the sun was streaming down through the scattered storm clouds illuminating the settling smoke like a softly glowing fog.
"Even in death this place has a surreal beauty," the dragon commented softly, as he moved up beside the somber angel.
"So it does."
"And what is it that brings this place to it's end dark one?"
Raven kicked a small stone over the edge of the precipice, watching it until it disappeared in the distance.
"I thought I knew," he began. "But I've since changed my thinking. There's something more than what's been seen happening here,...something behind it all."
Irrisahi tilted his head to hold the angel square in his sight. Raven looked at him, thinking a moment before continuing.
"What does a shadow with no visible light source suggest to you?" he asked. The dragon considered the question briefly.
"Hmm,...something hidden," he responded.
"Or?" Raven prompted.
"Veiled perhaps?" He knew something of the veil, and all things considered, it seemed the logical conclusion. Historically, dragons were extremely intelligent, and this one was no exception.
Raven smiled, and nodded. "Exactly. There have been too many things pointing in the same direction, but when I look there, I find nothing. It suggested to me that I wasn't being allowed to see the focal point of it all."
"And now?" the dragon queried.
"Now the charm is broken. Sometimes a thing, by it's own absence, gives itself away. The answers are all before me, but I'm simply not being allowed to see them."
The dragon nodded in agreement. "Ah, the games angels play," he said with a reptilian smile. "And what happens next?"
"Well, once the veil is discovered, it may cease to be of any real use. In fact, it can have an adverse effect on the reason for it's creation if it isn't removed or at the very least, modified." Raven explained.
"I'm assuming it doesn't just go away."
"No," Raven replied, shaking his head. "Now I make a formal request that the veil be removed from my sight."
"Hmm, I see. And what of any others who may be affected? I'm assuming this all centers on the one."
"I couldn't even begin to say who else may be within the influence of this particular veil, but I know she sits at the heart of it." Raven began. "The curator will know, and act accordingly." He considered a few things before continuing. "The veil may well be the most complex construct maintained by the Light. It covers so many variables, incorporates so many threads of occurrence and probability, and accounts for such an immense number of random elements, that it can only be understood by the most powerful of the celestial hierarchy. For me, it would be like trying to calculate 3 dimensional fractal formulae with only the fingers on one hand. It takes a dimensional overview I'm simply not capable of." He leaned against the dragon's neck. "Oddly enough, the function of the veil is quite simple,...it hides things to varying degrees." Thinking about that for second, he added. "A bit like using a supercomputer for simple math I s' pose."
"Still," Irrisahi mused with a small chuckle. "It isn't perfect if it can draw attention to itself the way it has in this case."
"Nothing is perfect, but normally, it wouldn't be applied to an angel anyway. Which only serves to make me more suspicious as to what's actually happening here. The average individual only holds a belief in the veil by way of faith, not by way of first hand knowledge, as is the case with angels. So they would rarely suspect it as an actual reason for things not quite fitting together the way they should. But irregardless of suspicion, they have no real proof of it's existence. There's also the possibility that it has slowly revealed itself to me by design. With the veil, nearly anything is possible."
"Interesting," the dragon said softly, as he turned back to look out at the vista. "And how does one go about making a formal request?"
Raven walked over to what was left of a support pillar and took a seat. "It's already been done," he replied.
"Then, are you expecting company shortly?"
"Of sorts," he said, making himself comfortable. "But feel free to stay if you care to."
"Actually, I was thinking about taking a flight. I'd like to take a last look around, but I don't want this place disappearing out from beneath me while I'm at it." Though he made it sound like a joke, he was quite serious.
"Not to worry my friend," Raven reassured him. "To be honest, I'm expecting others to show up as well, so it will be awhile before I say my final farewell to this place."
"I see," Irrisahi remarked. "Then I'm off for a bit." With that he launched himself out over the edge, plummeting like a stone until he opened the canopy of his wings and shot out over the landscape like a black streak.
Raven relaxed his own ebony wings, letting them drape down to the floor. Lost in thought, he almost missed the fluctuations in the air across the room. Light began to rapidly pour through an opening in the ether like liquid, swirling into a large, spherical shape.
He sat motionless, waiting for the curator to complete his arrival. Actually, he knew this was but a single thread of consciousness sent by the curator in response to his request. The curators themselves could not be looked upon without inviting certain and irrevocable insanity, in much the same way one could not look directly at the seraphim without calling death.
Then a voice that was not a voice entered his head.
~...in response to your request,...no reason can be found for the continuance of this strand within the restraints of the veil,...further, we find that events are best served by releasing you from it's restrictions,...take care in these revelations,...~
The light spun down into a tight thread, and faded. But the voice resonated dangerously in his head. It seemed to become louder by the second, echoing to distortion and beyond, until it became a painful drone. He fought against it's effects to remain conscious. He felt like a tuning fork that had been hit with a sledgehammer. His body was slowly being overcome by painful and uncontrollable spasms, when he heard a familiar, and much softer voice, followed by a healing touch.
"The voice will pass little bird,...rest now."
The high, arching ceiling, twisted into a face that he'd only seen once before, and it was the last thing he remembered as he collapsed into Sarai's embrace.
