Happy Holidays, Greywolfheir! (Part 8)
Aziraphale gave Crowley a look, but Father Francis merely said, “I don’t think so. Chances are, the artifact will only choose one of you, most likely the one who was marked first.”
Crowley realized what this would mean, and dropped his sarcastic demeanor. “No!” he shouted, slamming his fists on the table and shooting upwards. The other two flinched at the sudden outburst. Crowley noticed this and lowered the volume, but not the intensity, of his voice. “No, that can’t happen to him. Better it be me instead.” He turned to look at Father Francis. “Would it be possible to transfer one half of the artifact’s power to the other person?”
Father Francis nodded and said, “That could work. The artifact did choose both of you, and there’s no reason that you shouldn’t be able to do that, provided that both parties consented.”
Now it was Aziraphale’s turn to panic. He shot out of his chair and exclaimed, “Crowley, no! I refuse. Why would you want to have to do that, anyway?”
“Because, angel,” Crowley said, desperation in his tone, “I’d rather it be me stuck babysitting the wretched artifact for the rest of eternity than you. Because unlike me, you don’t deserve to be stuck with that never ending burden of a task. You help people and assist them through their problems, while half the time I’m the reason for said person’s problems. You were chosen to partake in this quest for your goodness, while I was forced along as a punishment for all the trouble I’ve caused. Heck, if the messenger hadn’t taken notice of me yesterday, then I’d probably be off causing havoc with the others in the tavern. And I’d be enjoying it, too.”
Aziraphale winced at all of what he said, and shot back, “And I don’t care about any of that. You can go on and on about what might have occurred had something been different, but at the end of the day, they’re just scenarios. Nothing more.” He took a deep breath and said in a lower tone. “Besides, I know that you’re convinced that you deserve it, but you don’t. There is a little bit of good in you, even if you can’t see it. If you were truly evil, you wouldn’t have gone on the quest in the first place. If you were truly evil, you would’ve left me to die in the river. If you were truly evil, you wouldn’t have healed the people with your newly gained powers, instead choosing to just leave.” Crowley didn’t say anything, and Aziraphale continued. “Besides, it’s my job to help people, and if it means keeping my friend from being strapped with a gigantic burden by taking it on myself, then so be it.”
“Well, I’m not going to stand by and let that happen.”
“Neither am I.”
Father Francis stood on the sidelines, watching the exchange with interest. One of his initial fears of someone getting the artifact was that the power might go to the person’s head and corrupt them. But seeing the two of them argue to get the power of the artifact, not for their own sake, but for the other’s, was enough to put those fears to rest. He felt sorry for them both, and was thinking of a way to help them when a memory rushed to the front of his mind.
He walked in between Aziraphale and Crowley and said, “You know, I think I may have a way to help you two.”
They both turned to look at him. “What is it?” asked Crowley.
“I remember a ritual that can be done to transfer the power of an artifact from one vessel to another. Perhaps we can try it.”
They both turned it over in their minds. It seemed like the most ideal solution, but there was still one thing that needed to be clarified.
“Wait, so where will the power go?” Aziraphale asked.
“If the ritual works, then the power will leave both of you and go off to find a new artifact to inhabit. It’s not certain that this will work, and the risks are high, but it’s the best option that we have.”
Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other. They didn’t like the sound of the last sentence. However, they were willing to take a chance, given that the risks were high either way.
“We’ll do it,” they both said.
Father Francis smiled and said, “Excellent, we have a plan. I have to go get some materials from the church first. Then we can get started.”
Aziraphale and Crowley stood there, waiting for Father Francis to return with the materials. It wasn’t long before a knock sounded at the door. Aziraphale looked out of the window on the door before unlocking and opening it. Father Francis hurried in, carrying a large bag, and set it down on the tabletop. He took out a bowl, some different herbs, a bottle, and a book. He flipped the book open and began to read.
Aziraphale closed and locked the door. “What does it say?” he asked, walking over. “Is there a lot that we have to do?”
Father Francis said, “No, there aren’t many steps to it. It shouldn’t take too long.”
He put the book back in the bag before preparing the materials. First he added all of the different herbs to the bowl. Next, he opened the bottle and poured in its contents. A shiny, yellowish liquid submerged the herbs, and once the bowl was halfway full, he recapped the bottle and put it aside. He then took out a stick and started mixing the materials together. As soon as he was done, he turned to the two and said, “Show me the marks again.”
They revealed their palms, which had the glowing sigil halves. He dipped two fingers into the mixture, took their hands, and smeared it onto their palms, covering the sigil halves. It caused the glow to have a shaded hue. While doing this, he muttered in Latin, “I release the power of the artifact, so that it may travel from one vessel to another.”
“What’s he saying?” Crowley whispered to Aziraphale.
“Hush, dear,” was all he responded with, and Crowley huffed.
“I release the power of the ineffable artifact,” Father Francis continued on, painting more of the mixture onto their palms until they were completely coated. “From this - er - these vessels, and transfer it back into its original housing shell. May the artifact’s claim withdraw along with its power.”
Aziraphale and Crowley both gasped as the glowing on their palms became brighter. Father Francis continued repeating the phrases, not taking his eyes away. The surrounding air began to vibrate as the power of the ineffable artifact reawakened.
“I send the power of the ineffable artifact whence it came. Return at once.”
The sigil faded for a second before another blast of power emitted from their hands, sending out a bright flash of light. The force knocked the bowl of mixture over. Father Francis turned away in time, and Aziraphale and Crowley also averted their gazes. When they looked back, the sigil halves were completely gone.
Aziraphale let out a sigh of relief. “Phew. Good thing that was a success.”
“Yeah,” Crowley said. He looked around and asked, “Now what do we do? Should we head back to the village?”
Aziraphale grimaced at the thought. After all that had happened in the past day, all he wanted was to get a proper night’s rest. He only needed to take one look at Crowley to know that he was thinking the exact same thing.
Luckily, Father Francis said, “It’s getting dark, and you two should probably get some rest, especially after going on a quest of that size. There’s a guest bedroom here, and I’m sure Millie won’t mind you sleeping in her room for the night.”
Aziraphale said, “Thank you, Father Francis. You have been a wonderful help to us.”
“Not as much as you two have been for the village,” he replied.
Aziraphale walked off to his room, and only Crowley and Father Francis were left.
After a pause, Crowley said awkwardly, “Well, thanks, for everything.”
Father Francis smiled and said, “You’re welcome, sir.”
Crowley nodded and walked over to where the guest bedroom was. He saw that the room was a decent sized one, with a wooden floor and a bed. A chest sat at the foot of the bed, and Crowley put his stuff down on top of it before lying down and closing his eyes. Despite the fact that he was exhausted, he found that he couldn’t fall asleep. He tried lying down in different positions, but nothing seemed to help.
"Hey," Aziraphale whispered from the entrance of the room.
"Hey, angel," Crowley replied, turning over to look at him. "Can't sleep?"
"No. You?"
"Same."
Aziraphale fidgeted for a bit. "Can I stay with you for a bit? Unless that bothers you."
"Nah, that's fine," Crowley said. "I could use a bit of company."
Aziraphale walked into the room, carrying a pillow and blanket under his arm. He stood in the center of the floor, not doing anything at first. Eventually, he said, "I still can't believe that we did all of that."
"Me, neither," Crowley said. "I don't know if I'll ever truly believe it."
"I agree," Aziraphale said. "It still seems so crazy. I'm surprised that Father Francis believed everything we told him."
"Yeah, but from the sound of it, this guy's an expert on the artifact. It would've been great if he hadn't been delirious when we first talked to him. The information would have been extremely helpful to have."
"True," Aziraphale concurred, a thoughtful look on his face. "But everything still turned out alright, so I'm not complaining."
Crowley blinked a couple times before saying, “Well, I’m going to try to sleep again.”
“Me, too,” Aziraphale said. He spread the blanket over the floor and put the pillow at the top of it. He lay down and put his head on the pillow. "Well, goodnight Crowley."
It took Crowley a second to realize what he was doing, and he said in an incredulous tone, "Angel, you're not seriously sleeping on the floor, are you?"
"Well, I can't sleep on the mattress. Maybe the floor is just the change that I need."
"Angel," Crowley hissed, but Aziraphale was still lying down, not looking like he was going to get up any time soon. Crowley rolled his eyes and got up, carrying the pillow and blanket from his bed. He stood next to Aziraphale and said, "Move over, then."
Aziraphale looked up at him and asked, "Really? I thought you opposed the idea of sleeping on the floor."
"Shut up," Crowley said. "I can't sleep on the mattress either, and I don't want you to have to sleep on the floor alone."
Aziraphale smiled and scooted over so as to give him room. Crowley settled down next to him and lay his head on his pillow. He unrolled the blanket so it covered both of them, and they lay there in silence.
After a while, Aziraphale broke the silence and said, "It's really getting late, and we need to make a long journey back to the village tomorrow. You should really try to go to sleep."
"Yeah, you too, angel," Crowley said.
Aziraphale closed his eyes, and Crowley followed shortly afterward. The two of them lay there on the hard floor, similar to the night in the cave, and slowly drifted off to sleep.
Morning came, and the sunlight entered through the windows. Aziraphale was the first to awaken, having been an early riser back in the village. He sat up and looked over at Crowley, who was still sleeping. He got up slowly, careful not to wake Crowley, and walked back to his room. He grabbed his belongings from the top of the chest and headed out to the kitchen. Father Francis was standing by the window, looking outside. He heard Aziraphale walk into the room and turned around to greet him.
“Good morning,” Father Francis said. “I see that you are awake.”
“Yeah, I have a habit of waking up early.” Aziraphale stretched and sat down in one of the chairs. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until he saw the tray of fruit and cheese on the table and heard his stomach growl. He pointed at the tray and said uncertainly. “Um, may I?”
“Go ahead,” Father Francis said. “I ate some earlier, and you two will need the food.”
Aziraphale grabbed a piece of cheese and ate it in one bite. He then picked out a red apple and bit into it, savoring the sweet taste.
“Eating breakfast without me?” Crowley asked from the entrance.
Aziraphale looked over and said, “Well, I didn’t want to wake you up.” He then gestured to the platter of food. “There’s fruit and cheese. Pick your favorite.”
“Sweet,” Crowley said. He walked over to Aziraphale and picked an apple off of the tray. “So when are we heading off?” he asked between bites.
“As soon as you are done eating,” Aziraphale said, who had finished his own apple earlier. “I already have all of my stuff, and I see that you have yours as well.”
Father Francis walked over and said, “I contacted the messengers before you two woke up and told them to send word to your village that you are returning today.”
“That’s good,” said Aziraphale. A thought occurred to him, and he asked, “Wait, what exactly did you tell them happened?”
“I told them that, by some blessing, the villager’s conditions started improving, and that within a few days, they will have been fully cured.” He smiled and said. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell them about the ineffable artifact. No need to spread that around.”
Aziraphale and Crowley stood up and, after shaking hands with Father Francis and exchanging goodbyes, headed out of the house and through the village. Just like when they first arrived, some of the windows opened a crack, and the people inside peeped out to get a glimpse of the mysterious travelers.
Their trip back to the village was a peaceful one. The weather was nice, and because it was early in the morning, it was quiet. Neither Aziraphale nor Crowley wanted to disturb the peace, enjoying the nice contrast to their rather hectic quest.
Soon enough, they arrived at the village. Upon entering the village center, they saw that there was a meeting going on. All of the residents were gathered around the two messengers, and Father Martin was standing in the front of the crowd. The messengers were reading off of a piece of paper, which was likely the message that Father Francis had written.
“So we have received news from Father Francis, the priest of the other village. He says that the villagers’ conditions have improved greatly, and that within a few days, they will be back to full health.” A general gasp from the audience. “He also gives his most sincere thanks to Mr. Adrian Ziraphale and -” he paused for a second, as if he didn’t believe what he had read - “Mr. Antonius Crowley for all the help they have done for the villagers.” He looked up and said, “However, we did not see them while returning, so the question stands as to where they are.”
Aziraphale raised his hand and said, “Sirs, we are here.”
The villagers snapped their heads toward them, gasping. One of the messengers turned and said, “Mr. Ziraphale, it’s great to see that you have returned.” He gave Crowley a brief glance before returning his gaze to Aziraphale. “So how did your work go?”
“It went great,” Aziraphale said. “Crowley and I helped out with healing the people and keeping them well. It was a great relief when their illnesses started to go away.”
The messenger gave a nod. “I see, and how did you manage to accomplish that task?”
Aziraphale felt himself freeze. While the question did not come as a complete surprise, he was still taken off guard. He said, “Well...we just gave them some new remedies, and I guess time did the rest.”
“So you’re saying that all the time before your arrival was not enough to cure the disease, but the day that you and him were there was enough?” Disbelief was clearly evident in the messenger’s tone.
“Don’t act so surprised,” Crowley said. “A lot can change in a day.”
Both of the messengers turned to look at him. “Now that is enough from you,” the first one said snidely.
The villagers shuffled uneasily. They didn’t want to question Father Francis, but they found the explanations they were given hard to believe.
Father Martin stepped forward and said, “I will talk to the two of them.” He walked over to Aziraphale and Crowley and led them away from the crowd and the messengers. When they were out of seeing and hearing range, he whispered to them, “Do you two have it?”
They looked at each other confused. Aziraphale asked, “Have what?”
“The power of the artifact. Do you two have it?” he clarified. He then looked down and said, “Show me your hands for a second.”
The two of them held out their hands, opened, and Father Martin took one of each in his own. He then whispered, “Show yourself, ineffable artifact” and he could barely see the faded sigil on both of their palms. “So you two had the power of the ineffable artifact, but you gave it up.”
“Yes,” Aziraphale whispered back. “Father Francis helped us. Are you mad?”
At first he didn’t say anything, appearing to be in deep thought. Then he led them back to where the others were gathered, and said in a loud voice, “The two of them are telling the truth.”
The first messenger nodded and said respectfully, “Very well, then. We shall be off.”
The two of them turned around on their horses and headed off. The villagers stood there for a moment, not saying anything at first. Then, one by one, they began to applaud. Father Martin joined in as well, and Aziraphale and Crowley looked out at all of the people congratulating them for succeeding on their quest.
After the villagers cleared out and the three of them were alone, Aziraphale asked, “Wait, how did you know about the artifact?”
“Father Francis told me,” explained Father Martin. “Before the meeting started, one of the messengers handed me a letter, saying that it was from him. I opened it and, upon seeing that it was in Latin, realized that it contained important information. I read through it and learned that you two had sought out the ineffable artifact and were successful in obtaining it. Immediately after reading it, I brought it into the house and burned it in the fireplace. I then went back outside and joined the crowd of villagers to listen to what the messengers had to say.”
Aziraphale was shocked by this, “Wait, why did he…? Why did you…?”
Father Martin explained calmly, “He probably thought it was better that I know. I’m not nearly as knowledgeable about artifacts as him, but I’m not completely ignorant, either. And as to why I burned the letter, the answer is that even though I don’t know much about the artifact, I know that it is very dangerous. The public is safer not knowing of its existence.”
"Understandable," Aziraphale said. He looked at his feet and asked nervously, "So...are you mad that we tried to find it?"
Father Martin placed a hand on Aziraphale's shoulder and said, "Adrian, while I think that what you did was extremely dangerous, I am not mad. You did what you thought was best, and for selfless purposes, too. Rather than seeking the power for your own gain, you sought it out in order to help others, which I not only respect, but admire. And the fact that you willingly gave it up after you finished the job is another sign that you were able to manage the power without letting it get to your head. For that, I can say that I am proud of you." He then took a breath and said, "As I said the other day, I have watched you grow up over the years, becoming more and more refined. Now, as I look at you, I see that you have finished your development, and are now a moral and upstanding young man. I could not have asked for a better assistant."
Aziraphale felt his heart swell at this. Hearing his uncle say that he was proud of him made him feel like he had proven to himself and others that he was hardworking. He turned to tell Crowley this and saw that he was standing there silently, not wanting to interrupt. In that moment, Aziraphale realized that while he was busy soaking up all the praises of the others, he hadn’t even thought about Crowley. This left him with a feeling of guilt.
He looked up at Father Martin and said, "Thank you very much, but...I can't accept all of that praise. I got some help along the way.”
Father Martin nodded and removed his hand. “Really? Who?”
Aziraphale cleared his throat and said, “Some of the villagers helped me, as well as a group of kids and a nice woman named Aldreda." He then looked over at Crowley. "Not to mention Antonius, who was a big help throughout the whole quest."
Crowley was about to correct him again when he realized that Father Martin was watching him closely. He averted his eyes to the ground and said in a low tone, "Yeah, I helped him do some things." He didn't look up for a while, thinking that Father Martin was either going to lecture him for all of the times that he got busted for causing trouble, or tell him about how this journey should serve as a moral lesson for him.
When no lecture came, he looked up at Father Martin. Their eyes met, and a look of understanding seemed to pass between them. Father Martin placed a hand on his shoulder, and Crowley smiled.
He then stepped back and said, "Well I have some things to do, so I better get going." He addressed Aziraphale, "Make sure you get up early tomorrow. It's going to be another day of work."
Aziraphale smiled and said, "I look forward to it."
Father Martin walked back to the church, and once again Aziraphale and Crowley were alone in the village center.
Aziraphale turned and said, "We did it, dear."
“Yeah, angel,” Crowley replied, smiling. “We did."
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