To Work For Zachariah (3/3)
Title: To Work For Zachariah
Series: Notes Tied to Balloons
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Castiel and Zachariah
Genre: Family
Summary: As a fledgling, Castiel had a very big, very interesting family. Each story will stand on its own and will consist of three chapters. Seventh story's up: Most would think that errands are simple to do, but to one angel that is a grave misunderstanding.
Click here for the other siblings: Balthazar, Joshua, Anna(el), Gabriel, Uriel, Raphael
Previous chapter...
AN: FINALLY! LAST CHAPTER FOR ZACHARIAH!
Now you'll never see
What you've done to me
You can take back your memories
They're no good to me
And here's all your lies
You can look me in the eyes
With the sad, sad look
That you wear so well
.
All-American Rejects - Gives You Hell
It had taken a while, but Castiel and Persephone managed to locate the soul Castiel had been sent down to find. As it turned out, the information Zachariah wanted was about a clarification on a chant of a certain spell, since the soul had been a soothsayer back when he still needed to breathe. Drinking from the River Lethe had made him forget about almost everything, but his mind still had some semblance of clarity for the occult, which was a relief.
With that task out of the way, Castiel and Persephone had to look for Zachariah next. They traveled deeper into the Underworld, avoiding the rivers and the banks as much as possible, although what for, Persephone did not say. Soon, the two of them started talking, to fend off the pervading loneliness that seemed to be present everywhere. It later led to Castiel, inadvertently, venting out his frustrations, because there was finally someone who could listen to his grief and not chastise him about punishment or duty.
"…and this one time he ordered me to fly into the bottom of a volcano to collect fresh lava - " he dejectedly went on.
"Can angels your age handle that stuff?" asked Persephone, genuinely worried.
"I eventually discovered that that was not the case." replied Castiel.
"What happened?"
There was a timid pause. "…I couldn't fly for two Earth months." said Castiel.
Persephone clucked her tongue in concern. "You darling li'l sugarplum," she cooed. Then her tone quickly changed from compassionate to vexed. "Why do you put up with the guy?" she demanded.
"He's my superior." answered Castiel simply, automatically.
"That's it? If your dad told you to eat a barrel of armadillos, would you do it?" Persephone inquired.
"Uhm,"
"Well?"
Castiel's wings twitched in unease. "…I mustn't disobey my Father - " he began.
"So you're saying you'd want to eat armadillos?" said Persephone.
"No! I like armadillos!" squealed Castiel. It was a weak response, but judging by the grim softening of Persephone's eyes, she knew that she had made her point.
"You're not his servant, you know." she said as they turned a corner. "Aren't you guys supposed to be righteous?" she asked with a sigh.
For a moment, Castiel questioned the definition of the word. "Zachariah believes he is righteous in his own mind." he stated.
Persephone made an annoyed huff at the back of her throat, yet otherwise said nothing as they continued walking. "Remind me again why we're even finding him?" she grumbled.
Aside from the fact that it was the right thing to do, Castiel honestly did not know.
After hours of wandering in the Underworld, the two of them came across a craggy landscape, populated by miles of stalactites, stalagmites and small murky puddles that had rippling surfaces despite the fact that the ground under their feet was completely motionless. Creatures that resembled spiders lurked in the fissures of the rocks, except they were not spiders at all, because they had wings like bats and tongues like frogs.
As Castiel's gaze followed one of the creatures' tongue catching a speck of glittering dust in the air, he saw him. "There!" he declared, pointing at the stalactites.
Zachariah was hanging upside-down, like a monkey who had forgotten how to right himself but discovered that it was actually more entertaining in this new position. His six wings gripped at the stalactites in the same manner as limbs would grab onto whatever branches were within reach. He was also swinging to and fro and humming a llama mating call.
"Sir, please get down!" Castiel called out.
Zachariah swiveled his head at him and grinned. "Find me a pink newt first!" he giggled.
At that, Castiel began to take flight, albeit was stopped by Persephone. "Where are you going?" she asked.
"I'm going to find a pink newt." replied Castiel.
"You can't be serious," she said.
"I have to obey my superior." said Castiel.
Persephone shook her head as she placed him back on the ground. "Stay put, I'll get him down." she muttered.
She stretched out her hands and dried vines and old tree roots instantly burst out of the earth and the ceiling. They twisted their way toward Zachariah and proceeded to yank him from the stalactites like he was nothing more than an annoying imperfection to the landscape. And with any imperfection, the removal was not exactly the most careful process as Zachariah was merely pulled and let to fall on the ground like a rock. Castiel went to see if he was alright.
"Castiel! Any luck on locating a pink newt?" piped up Zachariah, as if falling from a hundred feet was nothing to him… which it was.
"I'm… still on it, sir." lied Castiel, fidgetting as he did so. He saw Persephone throw him a look. "Uh, perhaps there's a better chance of finding one at the Mnemosyne. You can… help me search for it, sir." he said. Persephone said that the River Mnemosyne would reverse the effects of the River Lethe, or at least that was what the rumor was since no one had ever really tried it before.
Zachariah sprang up and jumped around. "I'd love to!" he joyfully cried out.
At the corner of Castiel's vision, he noticed Persephone roll her eyes before she set off to lead the way. For the first ten minutes of their journey, the three of them walked on in silence.
"Do you have a favorite amphibian?" Zachariah cheekily asked all of a sudden, startling Castiel.
"Not really, sir." replied Castiel.
"Well, I have a favorite amphibian. Guess what it is!" said Zachariah.
"A… newt, sir?" ventured Castiel.
"Don't be ridiculous! My favorite is the barnacle!" proclaimed Zachariah.
Both Castiel and Persephone stopped walking and stared at him blankly, and a little fearfully.
"It can stick to whales! Can newts stick to whales? I don't think so!" explained Zachariah.
Persephone nudged Castiel's side. "Hey, it's either a barnacle-loving nutcase or a bossy, overbearing nutcase." she whispered, smirking. Somehow, Castiel still did not know what version was more terrifying.
It was not long before the River Mnemosyne was visible a short distance away, and the sheer relief Castiel felt that their time here was almost over was immeasureable. However, if the river's properties were genuine, he was not particularly looking forward to his superior after he had drunk from the water.
"We're here." announced Persephone as the soil became softer with damp. At the sight of the placid waves, Zachariah took off and began splashing around in the shore.
"You sure 'bout this, sugarplum?" asked Persephone as they watched Zachariah roll and spin in the water.
Castiel regarded her words. "Regrettably." he said.
Persephone looked like she pitied him but went to the river anyway. She got a rock by her feet and morphed it into a cup, which she used to fill up with water. "Alright, big boy, bottoms up. If you're going to see any newts or whatever, you gotta drink this whole cup." she told Zachariah.
"Does it taste like indigo?" asked Zachariah.
"Sure." said Persephone, shrugging.
Thrilled, Zachariah instantly took the offered cup and gulped down its contents. Castiel was unable to prevent himself from backing away a couple of steps. As the asinine mirth vanished from Zachariah's features, to be replaced by sternness and hostility, Castiel knew that he had gotten his superior back.
"Castiel, I demand an explanation." barked Zachariah, absentmindedly throwing the cup to the river. "How did we get here, where's Charon and his boat and why, in God's name, am I doing next to this miry heathen?" he shouted, pointing at Persephone.
"You're welcome, by the way." sighed Persephone as she crossed her arms.
"What are you talking about?" hissed Zachariah. Persephone opened her mouth but was interrupted. "You know what, I don't want to hear anything from you. Castiel! Tell me what's going on, that's an order!" he yelled.
The squeak that came out of Castiel was unintentional. What should he say? Should he reveal everything? What would Zachariah do to him once he found out how he behaved after drinking from the River Lethe? Can he afford to omit some details? Would Zachariah see past his feeble attempts at lying?
"Before you interrogate him, I'd like to say that your mission's been accomplished." cut in Persephone, giving the papers with the clarified chant. "That's all you came here to do, right? The sooner you fly outta here, the better?" she asked, and Castiel realized that she was diverting Zachariah's attention, so that he did not have to answer.
Zachariah snatched the papers from her and scanned the content. Satisfied, he glared at her and spread his wings in preparation of flight. "I better not catch you frolicking up on Earth any time soon." he warned.
"Not a problem. I still got four months in this ditch." replied Persephone in a casual voice.
The two of them glowered at each other for an agonizingly long while. "Castiel, we're leaving." said Zachariah. He took off and flew ahead, totally ignoring the concept of stealth. By now, the creatures of the Underworld were aware of the presence of angels; then again, they might have already been aware of their presence during Zachariah's… period of forgetfulness.
If Castiel had been human, he would have let go of the breath he did not know he was holding. He was saved from revealing the ugly truth to Zachariah. "Thank you." he said to Persephone.
"Don't thank me yet. I put a little something in his drink." said Persephone, winking.
Castiel tilted his head. "I don't understand." he replied.
A giggle wafted out of Persephone's mouth. "Let's just say that whenever he pushes you around again, he'll have consequences." she said playfully.
"I don't want him to get hurt." said Castiel.
Persephone smiled fondly at him and placed her hand on his head; Castiel briefly wondered if this was what having a mother was like. "I wish more deities were a sweet sugarplum like you." she said affectionately. "Anyway, I promise he won't get hurt. It's just to teach him a lesson in arrogance." she added.
The stroking motions of Persephone's fingers were so soothing that Castiel nearly did not want to go. "What did you mean when you still had four months? Are you a prisoner here?" he asked when he recalled what she mentioned earlier.
Persephone's fingers stopped moving and a broken expression entered her eyes. "You best get going. I'm already getting used to calling you 'sugarplum'." she said.
Had he insulted her? Did he do something wrong? Castiel was about to apologize when he sensed Zachariah looking for him. Powerless to disobey, Castiel departed the Underworld and left Persephone with her bittersweet smile.
O_x
Things went back to normal almost immediately when they returned to Heaven. Once Castiel finished his task of organizing the prayers, he found himself in Zachariah's office sorting paperwork and cleaning the vicinity… simultaneously.
"When is my next seminar going to be?" Zachariah asked, sitting back comfortably.
Castiel clumsily pulled out a scroll from the haphazardly messy bundle in his arms. "During the eighth waxing moon on Earth." he recited with much difficulty.
"Can't it be on the seventh?" said Zachariah.
"Someone has already reserved that slot, sir." answered Castiel as he arranged the books on a shelf according to color and wavelength.
"So kick them out of it." Zachariah retorted.
The harshness of his superior's tone was enough to make Castiel falter and drop a piece of parchment. "It's already been finalized, sir. And the eighth was the closest vacancy I could acquire - "
"So you screwed up then." interrupted Zachariah, rising from his seat in the most menacing way. "You were too slow and because of that you screwed up." he said.
Castiel shrank back until his wings brushed against the shelves. "I'm sorry, sir." he said quietly.
The possibility of avoiding further conflict was thrown away as Zachariah advanced on him. "You don't understand, do you? I've been having the seventh slot of every occasion for the past five centuries. A perfect record. And now you screwed up." he growled, his lion-face showing at the edge.
"I'm sorry." mewled Castiel. He prepared for the worst: a slash to the wings, a blast of energy more painful than lightning, a strike that would send him halfway across Heaven…
Instead, an even more unbearable punishment was placed on him. "Just for that, I am not permitting you to join the other fledglings in their trip to God's throne-room." said Zachariah.
Castiel could not believe it. He had been waiting for that opportunity ever since he had comprehended the meaning of Father. They were to be the first batch of fledglings - the first batch of angels (aside from the archangels) - to enter the throne-room. It was to be a 'fieldtrip,' one of the biggest enlightenments and privileges their kind could ever attain. Of course, God was not guaranteed to be there, but to bask in the residue of His holiness would be absolutely glorious.
"But sir, all the fledglings are required to attend." Castiel anxiously pointed out.
Zachariah leaned in closer to him until their faces were a hairsbreadth away. "All but one." he said lowly, eliciting a tremble out of Castiel.
Turning, Zachariah went back to his desk with a pleased air of superiority around him. When Castiel had summoned enough dignity to look up, he saw a vivid pink flower come out of the base of Zachariah's lower left wing, seeming as if it had been waiting to bloom all this time.
Castiel chose not to say anything about it and focused on his cleaning.
O_x
Whenever he was lucky enough to obtain free time, Castiel would sometimes work on a little project, namely the construction of an enormous mobile. It was to depict the map of the first ant colony he had ever seen during his earlier trips to the Earth.
He used balled up bits of the Aurora Borealis to mark the entrances and emergency exits of the anthill. For the tunnels, there were long, winding trails of petals and eggshells from every flower and bird that ever existed; they were crystallized in order to be preserved for all eternity, and each tunnel had its own unique pattern of flowers and eggs, so it often took time to complete an entire tunnel. Dots of starlight melded with chunks of boiling ice were the components to mark the ants themselves, busy performing their jobs for the colony. Strands of green, blue and violet from rainbows acted as the strings to keep everything suspended, while a puff of cumulus was used as the ceiling.
It was far from being finished, but there was no point in hurrying; he enjoyed taking it slow. Castiel was so engrossed in his work that he failed to sense Zachariah approaching.
"You made this?" he asked.
There was a moment of panic in Castiel's Grace before he quelled it and wore a modest expression. "Yes, sir." he said.
"How long did it take?" continued Zachariah, nearing his unfinished work.
"Three decades and two days." Castiel answered.
Zachariah poked one of the ants and it quivered dangerously at the proximity of his power. "And you did this without any help?" he pressed on.
"I did, sir." replied Castiel.
Seconds passed with Zachariah just staring at the mobile, and Castiel prayed to his Father that he would get the approval of his superior regarding his handiwork.
"It looks horrendous." said Zachariah. He turned the other direction and swiftly flew off, sending a hazardously powerful gust of air that caused a great number of strings to become entangled with each other. "Blow it up." he added.
As Castiel, miserably, untangled the strings, he caught a glimpse of Zachariah just before he disappeared from view. A couple of more pink flowers had sprouted under his wings.
O_x
"Ah, Castiel. I was looking for you." said Zachariah the moment Castiel entered his office.
"Is there something I can do?" Castiel asked.
"Come here. Stand behind me." ordered Zachariah.
Castiel did so; Zachariah was sitting down so Castiel took comfort in the fact that he would not be close to his superior at full height. Regardless, the power was there in his six semi-folded wings and it tremendously intimidated him.
"Now, check my feathers." said Zachariah.
"I-I beg your pardon?" stammered Castiel.
"I want you to check and count my feathers. I recently flew into an errant westward breeze and I believe a feather or two may have been ruffled, or worse, pulled out. I need you to find the site of damage." said Zachariah.
"Very well." replied Castiel, because what else could he respond to his superior with?
He knelt down and started with the base wings, and the pink flowers he had seen previously were still there, and they appeared to have multiplied. After much debate, Castiel dared not to say a word of this to Zachariah, because if he did so, Zachariah would lash out at the nearest living target, and in this situation, that was Castiel.
However, as Castiel went through Zachariah's wings, he discovered that the pink flowers were more numerous than he thought. Underneath multiple layers of feathers, where adequate concealment was available, dozens of pink flowers had grown like they would in a garden. Curious, Castiel poked one of the flowers to see if he would get a reaction from Zachariah; there was none. When he gave a flower a gentle tug, he learned that it was tucked in safely, in the same way an ordinary flower planted in soil would behave.
"Oh, and don't let your feathers stick to mine. I still question the decency of your wings." commented Zachariah.
Castiel swallowed the bitter pain of that offhanded insult and merely continued his task. An angel's wings were the most treasured part of their being, often more valuable than their Grace, because their wings symbolized what they were in creation, what they were capable of as instruments of God, what they stood for as divine warriors and keepers of the secrets of the universe.
Castiel wings were ruffled, as messy as a baby bird's who was still adjusting to the gust of winds and the twirl of tornadoes. They had been like this for as long as he could remember, and while he had long ago already accepted that he might never get wings as smooth or as formidable as the others', his Grace still recoiled in hurt and shame at Zachariah's words.
As he went through Zachariah's feathers, his eyes widened as more pink flowers emerged. And virtually in an instant, Castiel had an idea of what, or who, might be the cause of this.
"I put a little something in his drink."
He refused to say anything about the flowers, or his suspicions.
O_x
This time, Castiel was summoned to Zachariah's chambers. "You wanted to see me, sir?" asked Castiel as he slowly, cautiously, went inside.
Zachariah was off to the far southeastern corner of the room, fetching something from one of his shelves. "Yes, and I want you to answer any questions I have for you truthfully. Understood?" he barked.
Had he learned about the flowers? Castiel forced himself to stand his ground. "Yes, sir." he replied.
"Good." Zachariah zoomed toward Castiel and landed three feet in front of him. While he had been at a distance, Castiel would have said there was nohing (too) unusual with Zachariah's form. However, at this proximity, Castiel found himself in shock and he was left to wonder why he had not notice the differences before.
More pink flowers had bloomed, and not just on his wings. There were flowers on the back of his legs, the innermost crooks of his neck, on the top of his head where none of his four faces could see, at the gaps between his wings; basically all the spots that would be hard to notice on a typical day. He was on the verge of resembling a half-formed bush of flowers
"Is there something different with me?" demanded Zachariah.
Castiel hoped he was not caught staring, that Zachariah was simply asking for the sake of the knowing. "What do you mean?" inquired Castiel in the most innocent tone he could muster.
"Some of the angels have been looking at me… peculiarly. When I demand to know their reasons, they avoid me." said Zachariah. Castiel did his hardest to suppress a chuckle. "Is there something I'm missing? Are they mocking the new weather pattern I'm proposing?" he went on.
"I doubt it's about the weather, sir." said Castiel. Albeit he prayed that 'fiery-hailstorm-hurricanes' would not push through.
"Then what?" snarled Zachariah.
Castiel could not believe that Zachariah had remained oblivious for this long, but he was by no means complaining. "Perhaps it's your new policy on weapons maintenance." said Castiel instead, and technically, it was not a real lie, more of a suggestion, a likelihood. And besides, the problem might even actually be the weapons maintenance.
"You think so?" Zachariah asked.
"It's possible." admitted Castiel.
Zachariah considered this for a while. "Well, they'll just have to suck it up. They either follow my rules or they flap around like the defenseless idiots that they are." he said. Two new flowers popped out of his head. He was about to leave when a thought seemed to occur to him. "That reminds me… we're having lessons again later: the enlightenment of obedience." he said.
By that, he meant torture, or the closest thing possible in the standards of Heaven. The idea was to instill traits and morals such as discipline, humility, resilience and loyalty through pain. The process, as Zachariah had desccribed, was similar to the purification of a diamond: the precious stone must undergo immense pressure and much cutting and pummeling in order to achieve its perfect shine. The finished product should be clear, be void of any impurities and can withstand great force without cracking; a predictable, blameless and resolute outcome.
"Did I do something wrong?" asked Castiel a tad fearfully.
"I just thought you'd serve as an example to those who object my decisions." said Zachariah, smiling cruelly. "Is there a problem?"
Castiel bowed his head in submission. "No, sir." he said quietly.
"Good. In the meantime, get my armor and weapons ready; put them in our 'classroom'." said Zachariah.
He had never once really used his armor and weapons; he just kept them for display, to terrorize the rest of the angels by showing them just how ferocious his weapons were, that he was definitely someone who was not to be messed with. Sometimes, Zachariah would bring them to their 'classroom' so that the splatter of Castiel's Grace would hit them as he was being 'enlightened'. In terms of Earth, a polished shield and sword was nice to look at, but a shield and sword with fresh blood staining them was what made them a grander sight, because the enemies would not dare make a hasty move. In a way, Zachariah needed Castiel's Grace - his equivalent of blood - to scare off any angel who might be against him.
Castiel had no choice but to obey.
O_x
By the end of the day, Castiel was exhausted and beaten, ready to fall apart at any moment. Every tiny momvement brought bursts of agony to ripple across his form until even maintaining his light was an enormous task. So he curled up under a weeping willow in the Garden to rest, practically melting into the shadows without his light to mark his presence. He was so tired, every inch of him hurt so bad…
Someone was shaking him. "Castiel. Castiel!"
Castiel blearily opened his eyes and, with much effort, peered up at the one who had disturbed him. "Inias?"
His brother crouched down and helped him sit up. "I heard you had… lessons with Zachariah." he said, picking the word carefully.
Castiel flinched at the mere mention of it. "Yes." he said.
There was a moment of silence as Inias twiddled apprehensively with his right wing-tip. "How are you?" he asked.
For a second, Castiel thought about not answering that question; the condition of his form should be enough to describe his predicament. "I hope to get used to it." he replied.
Inias made a small, uneasy noise, then he smiled as he reached for something inside his pouch. "Here. I got it from the Infirmary." he said. It was a healing balm, a tiny ball of light gathered from the collision of a birth of a star and a death of another, mixed with a bit of angelic healing properties.
"You shouldn't - " Castiel began.
"It's too late now, isn't it?" said Inias, his grin half-nervous and half-reckless. He offered the balm to him. "Take it."
Castiel hesitated, although the pain that shot up from his wings was enough to convince him. "Thank you, brother." he said softly. He placed the balm at his Grace to let the light be absorbed, and gradually, he felt his strength coming back.
The chance of the two of them resting underneath the shade was shattered as Hester came flying into view. "There you are! I've been looking everywhere!" she yelled to Inias. Upon noting Castiel, her expression turned somber and she slowly landed. "Hello, Castiel." she greeted coolly.
"Hello, Hester." Castiel returned.
Inias must have sensed the tension that was suddenly present, that Castiel was still very much vulnearble and not fully recovered from his time with Zachariah, and that Hester was uneasy around him due to the meaning behind his injuries. "What is it?" he asked, transferring Hester's attention to him.
Hester seemed glad to focus on something else. "Have you seen Zachariah lately?" she asked.
At that, Inias glanced at Castiel, since he was the last one to see him. "Not since… this." Castiel answered, gesturing at his form.
"Why? What's going on?" asked Inias, saving Castiel from any further scrutiny.
Hester made an odd face, as if she was holding back an earlier reaction. "You should come see. You too, Castiel; especially you." she said.
Inias and Castiel exchanged inquisitive glances with one another, although they both agreed to accompany Hester.
They landed in a section of Heaven where, ordinarily, there would hardly be any angels in sight. Currently, however, a huge crowd was present, and virtually every angel appeared to be on the brink of bursting out in laughter, but they were all holding it in, since angels were not supposed to exhibit such open emotion. The most that came out of them were furtive snickers, half-hidden chuckles and giddy whispers; this was the first time in the history of Heaven that this many angels displayed so much emotion.
There was only one angel who was not as happy as the others, and he was in the very midst of the gathering.
"When I get these things off me, you are all going to pay dearly!" screamed Zachariah. His entire form was smothered in pink flowers, right to the point that he could almost be mistaken for a moving, talking pile of flowers. When he tried to send an energy blast at a group of angels, a calm jet of flowers trickled out of his hand instead. The surrounding angels chortled even more, and Castiel found himself giggling a bit at the fate of his superior.
Once they had had enough of watching Zachariah make a bigger fool out of himself by screaming and thrashing and threatening, Hester, Castiel and Inias huddled a few meters away from the crowd. "Do you have any idea how this happened?" Hester asked Castiel in a hushed tone.
"I might." said Castiel, unable to prevent a tiny smile. "And I believe I'm partly to blame."
His two siblings stared at him incredulously. "How did you do it?" asked Inias.
"I don't believe you." commented Hester at the same time.
Castiel made certain that no one was listening before he opted to answer. "It started with our trip to the Greek Underworld," he said. He considered telling them about Zachariah's misadventures when he had been under the effects of the River Lethe, though decided against it, at least for the moment. "And… we met Persephone."
"And what did Persephone do to me?"
The three of them fell over in shock upon hearing Zachariah's voice behind them. Sure enough, Zachariah was looming above them, and in spite of his ridiculously floral appearance and delightful fragrance, the intensity of his glare did not fail to send Hester and Inias flying for safety; Castiel, unfortunately, was rooted to the spot.
"Castiel, you are in for the most brutal punishment that the laws of reality can allow." snarled Zachariah, and his lion-face emitted a full roar. "I want you tell me everything, truthfully, before I pulverize you to the point that you would barely function." he threatened.
Castiel suppressed the whimper that was fighting its way to be heard. If his 'enlightenment' had reduced him to a state even less substantial than a shadow, then whatever punishment Zachariah had in store for him would obliterate every spark of light that constituted his being… assuming his powers were still fully functional given his flowery situation.
"Can I get a bit of hush 'round here?"
Both Zachariah and Castiel went to a standstill as they figured out the source of the voice; for Castiel, it eventually dawned on him that the voice sounded awfully familiar to Persephone, except tinier, and it was like she was coming from a distant location.
All of a sudden, one of the pink flowers on Zachariah, in the place where a human heart would have been placed, moved. It twitched, jerked away from the bunch and stretched a little further out, an act which reminded Castiel of a snake waking up and examining its setting. A few seconds elapsed and the flower's petals folded and scrunched to form Persephone's face. Castiel realized that the flower was a medium, a way for Persephone to communicate to them; the flower was not really Persephone herself, regardless of the fact that the petals were blinking and breathing.
Once the transformation was over, Zachariah's anger flared up again the moment he recognized Persephone's face. "You despicable - !"
"You, howler-monkey, shut up." interrupted Persephone.
Zachariah's expression went livid. "How dare you spea- !" he heatedly began.
"What did I just say?" snapped Persephone. "I'm the one who did this to you, and only I have the power to undo it, or intensify it." she said, adding an aggressive tone at the end. She shook her head disdainfully. "For a guy who goes on and on about obedience, you sure have a hard time following instructions." she said. When she turned to Castiel, her features became more pleasant and her voice much more amiable. "Hey there, sugarplum. How's life in the clouds?" she asked genially.
"Hello, Persephone. Everything is… tolerable." replied Castiel.
Persephone sighed, and if she was not presently a flower, she might have given Castiel a protective squeeze. "You poor thing." she cooed. She returned to Zachariah and her expression was irate once more. "Alright, howler-monkey, listen up: you see these flowers on you? Every time you push someone around, or you're just plain mean, flowers will pop out. Might as well have something pretty on the outside to mask all that nastiness inside." she explained.
"You can't - !" yelled Zachariah.
"Do I look like I'm done talking?" Persephone brazenly cut in. "Now, flowers will keep growing on you until you start acting nice." she said.
"There is no way I'm taking any orders from a cave-dwelling whore." retorted Zachariah. True to her word, ten more flowers bloomed at Zachariah's face, nearly covering his mouth.
"Your choice. I think you have a future in being the first flying, supernatural bouquet." joked Persephone.
Castiel imagined his superior as a flying bouquet. It was a weird thought.
"Oh, and as a final bargaining chip, if you be good, I won't spread this around." Another flower stretched out under Persephone, albeit instead of revealing a face, it brought forth a small clear crystal. Soon, images began to form within the crystal, quickly depicting Zachariah drinking from the River Lethe and swinging upside-down from the stalactites.
"That's just a projection. That can't be real." defended Zachariah, though Castiel manage to catch the horrified waver in his voice.
The crystal was swallowed up by the flower. "There are eyes everywhere in the Underworld. You have at least a thousand witnesses." stated Persephone.
It was at that moment that visible fear flashed across Zachariah's four faces, like the rapid spreading of a plague; Castiel had never seen him so susceptible in all his creation.
"You can start by apologizing to this fledgling." said Persephone.
Zachariah's familiar mask of irritation fell back into place. "There's nothing to apologize." he muttered. A flower sprouted at his front.
"And fishes drown." commented Persephone dryly.
Grumbling, Zachariah slowly faced Castiel. "Castiel," he started, and the sheer amount of effort he was exerting was comparable to a human pushing at a boulder. "I'm… I'm… sorry." he gritted out, as if every syllable burned and ripped at his Grace.
"About?" Persephone pressed on.
A huge, resentful scowl manifested on Zachariah's mouth. "Using you as a footstool one time." he mumbled.
One flower noticeably disappeared from his form.
"That's it? Just one?" he complained.
"Keep going, you'll get there." said Persephone, grinning.
Zachariah stared at her disbelievingly, and it looked like he was doing everything within his ability to prevent himself from losing control. If degradation was a real weapon, Zachariah's Grace would have been tattered beyond recognition as he, sullenly, went around Heaven apologizing to everyone he had ever insulted, taken advantage of or done wrong. Castiel tagged along because, one, he was directly related to Persephone's curse so he wanted to carry his share of responsibility and, two, he secretly wanted to see his superior humbled by every means, to witness him (in one way or another) make amends to the angels he had maltreated. It was a quite satisfying spectacle, and Castiel was glad that he was there to behold every apology, all eight hundred twelve thousand, three hundred sixty-seven of them.
"Why is a bunch still there?" Zachariah tiredly asked, motioning at the flowers still adhered to his chest.
"You'd have to do something more than just apologize." said Persephone.
"Like what?" demanded Zachariah.
"Repeat after me." instructed Persephone. "Castiel, your services are no longer required. Your obligations to me have been fulfilled."
Zachariah's wings jolted in offense, while Castiel felt a flutter of hope deep inside his Grace. "That's going too far." Zachariah said.
"The things you did to him went too far! He could've left you in the Underworld as an imbecile forever, yet he still did the right thing and brought you back. Say the words!" yelled Persephone.
If Zachariah had not been embarrassed enough for today, his glare at Persephone would have been more venomous, and he would have put up more of a fight. "Castiel… your services… are no longer required. Your obligations to me… have been… have been fulfilled." he recited grudgingly. The second he finished talking, Castiel could have sworn that he felt some kind of chain that tethered him to Zachariah break apart.
"Was that too hard?" asked Persephone good-naturedly.
The last of the pink flowers leisurely detached themselves from Zachariah, including the flower Persephone was using to talk to them. Zachariah did not spend another moment out in the open; with his level of shame at its peak, he hastily retreated to his chambers.
Castiel gingerly picked up the Persephone-flower. "Thank you, Persephone." he said, and every pulse of light from his Grace reverberated with immense gratitude. He hoped she could feel that all the way down in the Underworld; he did not know what else he could say to convey his reaction, or if he should say anything else.
Persephone smiled at him. "You gonna be alright? Sooner or later, the howler-monkey's gonna be howling again." she said.
That, unfortunately, was inevitable. "I know, but I'll manage by then." said Castiel.
"Take care of yourself, sugarplum." she said. There was that bittersweet aura around her again, like she was a bit sad to say farewell.
"You too." replied Castiel, and he kissed the topmost petal, where her forehead ought to be; Persephone laughed at that. When Castiel pulled away, the flower fell apart and Persephone was gone.
As he tenderly held the petals, he felt something smooth and hard underneath them. Castiel pushed the petals aside only to discover that he was in possession of the crystal that recorded Zachariah's inanity in the Underworld.
He really ought to destroy it. Zachariah had suffered more than enough for today and, besides, Heaven was still recovering from the memory of Zachariah swathed in flowers, plus the fact that he apologized to nearly every angel. He deserved some reprieve.
While that may be the right thing to do, Castiel pocketed the crystal and took flight in search of Inias. He was certain his brother, and probably the rest of his garrison, could use another laugh.
Fin (for this mini-story).
For those who are curious of what a 'mobile' is, here is an example.
Only two angels to go for this series! (I might write a little sorta-sequel that features all the angels that didn't have their own story here, like Rachel, Virgil, Inias…)
As for the next story, who do you think it will be: Michael or Lucifer?
Series: Notes Tied to Balloons
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Castiel and Zachariah
Genre: Family
Summary: As a fledgling, Castiel had a very big, very interesting family. Each story will stand on its own and will consist of three chapters. Seventh story's up: Most would think that errands are simple to do, but to one angel that is a grave misunderstanding.
Click here for the other siblings: Balthazar, Joshua, Anna(el), Gabriel, Uriel, Raphael
Previous chapter...
AN: FINALLY! LAST CHAPTER FOR ZACHARIAH!
Now you'll never see
What you've done to me
You can take back your memories
They're no good to me
And here's all your lies
You can look me in the eyes
With the sad, sad look
That you wear so well
.
All-American Rejects - Gives You Hell
It had taken a while, but Castiel and Persephone managed to locate the soul Castiel had been sent down to find. As it turned out, the information Zachariah wanted was about a clarification on a chant of a certain spell, since the soul had been a soothsayer back when he still needed to breathe. Drinking from the River Lethe had made him forget about almost everything, but his mind still had some semblance of clarity for the occult, which was a relief.
With that task out of the way, Castiel and Persephone had to look for Zachariah next. They traveled deeper into the Underworld, avoiding the rivers and the banks as much as possible, although what for, Persephone did not say. Soon, the two of them started talking, to fend off the pervading loneliness that seemed to be present everywhere. It later led to Castiel, inadvertently, venting out his frustrations, because there was finally someone who could listen to his grief and not chastise him about punishment or duty.
"…and this one time he ordered me to fly into the bottom of a volcano to collect fresh lava - " he dejectedly went on.
"Can angels your age handle that stuff?" asked Persephone, genuinely worried.
"I eventually discovered that that was not the case." replied Castiel.
"What happened?"
There was a timid pause. "…I couldn't fly for two Earth months." said Castiel.
Persephone clucked her tongue in concern. "You darling li'l sugarplum," she cooed. Then her tone quickly changed from compassionate to vexed. "Why do you put up with the guy?" she demanded.
"He's my superior." answered Castiel simply, automatically.
"That's it? If your dad told you to eat a barrel of armadillos, would you do it?" Persephone inquired.
"Uhm,"
"Well?"
Castiel's wings twitched in unease. "…I mustn't disobey my Father - " he began.
"So you're saying you'd want to eat armadillos?" said Persephone.
"No! I like armadillos!" squealed Castiel. It was a weak response, but judging by the grim softening of Persephone's eyes, she knew that she had made her point.
"You're not his servant, you know." she said as they turned a corner. "Aren't you guys supposed to be righteous?" she asked with a sigh.
For a moment, Castiel questioned the definition of the word. "Zachariah believes he is righteous in his own mind." he stated.
Persephone made an annoyed huff at the back of her throat, yet otherwise said nothing as they continued walking. "Remind me again why we're even finding him?" she grumbled.
Aside from the fact that it was the right thing to do, Castiel honestly did not know.
After hours of wandering in the Underworld, the two of them came across a craggy landscape, populated by miles of stalactites, stalagmites and small murky puddles that had rippling surfaces despite the fact that the ground under their feet was completely motionless. Creatures that resembled spiders lurked in the fissures of the rocks, except they were not spiders at all, because they had wings like bats and tongues like frogs.
As Castiel's gaze followed one of the creatures' tongue catching a speck of glittering dust in the air, he saw him. "There!" he declared, pointing at the stalactites.
Zachariah was hanging upside-down, like a monkey who had forgotten how to right himself but discovered that it was actually more entertaining in this new position. His six wings gripped at the stalactites in the same manner as limbs would grab onto whatever branches were within reach. He was also swinging to and fro and humming a llama mating call.
"Sir, please get down!" Castiel called out.
Zachariah swiveled his head at him and grinned. "Find me a pink newt first!" he giggled.
At that, Castiel began to take flight, albeit was stopped by Persephone. "Where are you going?" she asked.
"I'm going to find a pink newt." replied Castiel.
"You can't be serious," she said.
"I have to obey my superior." said Castiel.
Persephone shook her head as she placed him back on the ground. "Stay put, I'll get him down." she muttered.
She stretched out her hands and dried vines and old tree roots instantly burst out of the earth and the ceiling. They twisted their way toward Zachariah and proceeded to yank him from the stalactites like he was nothing more than an annoying imperfection to the landscape. And with any imperfection, the removal was not exactly the most careful process as Zachariah was merely pulled and let to fall on the ground like a rock. Castiel went to see if he was alright.
"Castiel! Any luck on locating a pink newt?" piped up Zachariah, as if falling from a hundred feet was nothing to him… which it was.
"I'm… still on it, sir." lied Castiel, fidgetting as he did so. He saw Persephone throw him a look. "Uh, perhaps there's a better chance of finding one at the Mnemosyne. You can… help me search for it, sir." he said. Persephone said that the River Mnemosyne would reverse the effects of the River Lethe, or at least that was what the rumor was since no one had ever really tried it before.
Zachariah sprang up and jumped around. "I'd love to!" he joyfully cried out.
At the corner of Castiel's vision, he noticed Persephone roll her eyes before she set off to lead the way. For the first ten minutes of their journey, the three of them walked on in silence.
"Do you have a favorite amphibian?" Zachariah cheekily asked all of a sudden, startling Castiel.
"Not really, sir." replied Castiel.
"Well, I have a favorite amphibian. Guess what it is!" said Zachariah.
"A… newt, sir?" ventured Castiel.
"Don't be ridiculous! My favorite is the barnacle!" proclaimed Zachariah.
Both Castiel and Persephone stopped walking and stared at him blankly, and a little fearfully.
"It can stick to whales! Can newts stick to whales? I don't think so!" explained Zachariah.
Persephone nudged Castiel's side. "Hey, it's either a barnacle-loving nutcase or a bossy, overbearing nutcase." she whispered, smirking. Somehow, Castiel still did not know what version was more terrifying.
It was not long before the River Mnemosyne was visible a short distance away, and the sheer relief Castiel felt that their time here was almost over was immeasureable. However, if the river's properties were genuine, he was not particularly looking forward to his superior after he had drunk from the water.
"We're here." announced Persephone as the soil became softer with damp. At the sight of the placid waves, Zachariah took off and began splashing around in the shore.
"You sure 'bout this, sugarplum?" asked Persephone as they watched Zachariah roll and spin in the water.
Castiel regarded her words. "Regrettably." he said.
Persephone looked like she pitied him but went to the river anyway. She got a rock by her feet and morphed it into a cup, which she used to fill up with water. "Alright, big boy, bottoms up. If you're going to see any newts or whatever, you gotta drink this whole cup." she told Zachariah.
"Does it taste like indigo?" asked Zachariah.
"Sure." said Persephone, shrugging.
Thrilled, Zachariah instantly took the offered cup and gulped down its contents. Castiel was unable to prevent himself from backing away a couple of steps. As the asinine mirth vanished from Zachariah's features, to be replaced by sternness and hostility, Castiel knew that he had gotten his superior back.
"Castiel, I demand an explanation." barked Zachariah, absentmindedly throwing the cup to the river. "How did we get here, where's Charon and his boat and why, in God's name, am I doing next to this miry heathen?" he shouted, pointing at Persephone.
"You're welcome, by the way." sighed Persephone as she crossed her arms.
"What are you talking about?" hissed Zachariah. Persephone opened her mouth but was interrupted. "You know what, I don't want to hear anything from you. Castiel! Tell me what's going on, that's an order!" he yelled.
The squeak that came out of Castiel was unintentional. What should he say? Should he reveal everything? What would Zachariah do to him once he found out how he behaved after drinking from the River Lethe? Can he afford to omit some details? Would Zachariah see past his feeble attempts at lying?
"Before you interrogate him, I'd like to say that your mission's been accomplished." cut in Persephone, giving the papers with the clarified chant. "That's all you came here to do, right? The sooner you fly outta here, the better?" she asked, and Castiel realized that she was diverting Zachariah's attention, so that he did not have to answer.
Zachariah snatched the papers from her and scanned the content. Satisfied, he glared at her and spread his wings in preparation of flight. "I better not catch you frolicking up on Earth any time soon." he warned.
"Not a problem. I still got four months in this ditch." replied Persephone in a casual voice.
The two of them glowered at each other for an agonizingly long while. "Castiel, we're leaving." said Zachariah. He took off and flew ahead, totally ignoring the concept of stealth. By now, the creatures of the Underworld were aware of the presence of angels; then again, they might have already been aware of their presence during Zachariah's… period of forgetfulness.
If Castiel had been human, he would have let go of the breath he did not know he was holding. He was saved from revealing the ugly truth to Zachariah. "Thank you." he said to Persephone.
"Don't thank me yet. I put a little something in his drink." said Persephone, winking.
Castiel tilted his head. "I don't understand." he replied.
A giggle wafted out of Persephone's mouth. "Let's just say that whenever he pushes you around again, he'll have consequences." she said playfully.
"I don't want him to get hurt." said Castiel.
Persephone smiled fondly at him and placed her hand on his head; Castiel briefly wondered if this was what having a mother was like. "I wish more deities were a sweet sugarplum like you." she said affectionately. "Anyway, I promise he won't get hurt. It's just to teach him a lesson in arrogance." she added.
The stroking motions of Persephone's fingers were so soothing that Castiel nearly did not want to go. "What did you mean when you still had four months? Are you a prisoner here?" he asked when he recalled what she mentioned earlier.
Persephone's fingers stopped moving and a broken expression entered her eyes. "You best get going. I'm already getting used to calling you 'sugarplum'." she said.
Had he insulted her? Did he do something wrong? Castiel was about to apologize when he sensed Zachariah looking for him. Powerless to disobey, Castiel departed the Underworld and left Persephone with her bittersweet smile.
O_x
Things went back to normal almost immediately when they returned to Heaven. Once Castiel finished his task of organizing the prayers, he found himself in Zachariah's office sorting paperwork and cleaning the vicinity… simultaneously.
"When is my next seminar going to be?" Zachariah asked, sitting back comfortably.
Castiel clumsily pulled out a scroll from the haphazardly messy bundle in his arms. "During the eighth waxing moon on Earth." he recited with much difficulty.
"Can't it be on the seventh?" said Zachariah.
"Someone has already reserved that slot, sir." answered Castiel as he arranged the books on a shelf according to color and wavelength.
"So kick them out of it." Zachariah retorted.
The harshness of his superior's tone was enough to make Castiel falter and drop a piece of parchment. "It's already been finalized, sir. And the eighth was the closest vacancy I could acquire - "
"So you screwed up then." interrupted Zachariah, rising from his seat in the most menacing way. "You were too slow and because of that you screwed up." he said.
Castiel shrank back until his wings brushed against the shelves. "I'm sorry, sir." he said quietly.
The possibility of avoiding further conflict was thrown away as Zachariah advanced on him. "You don't understand, do you? I've been having the seventh slot of every occasion for the past five centuries. A perfect record. And now you screwed up." he growled, his lion-face showing at the edge.
"I'm sorry." mewled Castiel. He prepared for the worst: a slash to the wings, a blast of energy more painful than lightning, a strike that would send him halfway across Heaven…
Instead, an even more unbearable punishment was placed on him. "Just for that, I am not permitting you to join the other fledglings in their trip to God's throne-room." said Zachariah.
Castiel could not believe it. He had been waiting for that opportunity ever since he had comprehended the meaning of Father. They were to be the first batch of fledglings - the first batch of angels (aside from the archangels) - to enter the throne-room. It was to be a 'fieldtrip,' one of the biggest enlightenments and privileges their kind could ever attain. Of course, God was not guaranteed to be there, but to bask in the residue of His holiness would be absolutely glorious.
"But sir, all the fledglings are required to attend." Castiel anxiously pointed out.
Zachariah leaned in closer to him until their faces were a hairsbreadth away. "All but one." he said lowly, eliciting a tremble out of Castiel.
Turning, Zachariah went back to his desk with a pleased air of superiority around him. When Castiel had summoned enough dignity to look up, he saw a vivid pink flower come out of the base of Zachariah's lower left wing, seeming as if it had been waiting to bloom all this time.
Castiel chose not to say anything about it and focused on his cleaning.
O_x
Whenever he was lucky enough to obtain free time, Castiel would sometimes work on a little project, namely the construction of an enormous mobile. It was to depict the map of the first ant colony he had ever seen during his earlier trips to the Earth.
He used balled up bits of the Aurora Borealis to mark the entrances and emergency exits of the anthill. For the tunnels, there were long, winding trails of petals and eggshells from every flower and bird that ever existed; they were crystallized in order to be preserved for all eternity, and each tunnel had its own unique pattern of flowers and eggs, so it often took time to complete an entire tunnel. Dots of starlight melded with chunks of boiling ice were the components to mark the ants themselves, busy performing their jobs for the colony. Strands of green, blue and violet from rainbows acted as the strings to keep everything suspended, while a puff of cumulus was used as the ceiling.
It was far from being finished, but there was no point in hurrying; he enjoyed taking it slow. Castiel was so engrossed in his work that he failed to sense Zachariah approaching.
"You made this?" he asked.
There was a moment of panic in Castiel's Grace before he quelled it and wore a modest expression. "Yes, sir." he said.
"How long did it take?" continued Zachariah, nearing his unfinished work.
"Three decades and two days." Castiel answered.
Zachariah poked one of the ants and it quivered dangerously at the proximity of his power. "And you did this without any help?" he pressed on.
"I did, sir." replied Castiel.
Seconds passed with Zachariah just staring at the mobile, and Castiel prayed to his Father that he would get the approval of his superior regarding his handiwork.
"It looks horrendous." said Zachariah. He turned the other direction and swiftly flew off, sending a hazardously powerful gust of air that caused a great number of strings to become entangled with each other. "Blow it up." he added.
As Castiel, miserably, untangled the strings, he caught a glimpse of Zachariah just before he disappeared from view. A couple of more pink flowers had sprouted under his wings.
O_x
"Ah, Castiel. I was looking for you." said Zachariah the moment Castiel entered his office.
"Is there something I can do?" Castiel asked.
"Come here. Stand behind me." ordered Zachariah.
Castiel did so; Zachariah was sitting down so Castiel took comfort in the fact that he would not be close to his superior at full height. Regardless, the power was there in his six semi-folded wings and it tremendously intimidated him.
"Now, check my feathers." said Zachariah.
"I-I beg your pardon?" stammered Castiel.
"I want you to check and count my feathers. I recently flew into an errant westward breeze and I believe a feather or two may have been ruffled, or worse, pulled out. I need you to find the site of damage." said Zachariah.
"Very well." replied Castiel, because what else could he respond to his superior with?
He knelt down and started with the base wings, and the pink flowers he had seen previously were still there, and they appeared to have multiplied. After much debate, Castiel dared not to say a word of this to Zachariah, because if he did so, Zachariah would lash out at the nearest living target, and in this situation, that was Castiel.
However, as Castiel went through Zachariah's wings, he discovered that the pink flowers were more numerous than he thought. Underneath multiple layers of feathers, where adequate concealment was available, dozens of pink flowers had grown like they would in a garden. Curious, Castiel poked one of the flowers to see if he would get a reaction from Zachariah; there was none. When he gave a flower a gentle tug, he learned that it was tucked in safely, in the same way an ordinary flower planted in soil would behave.
"Oh, and don't let your feathers stick to mine. I still question the decency of your wings." commented Zachariah.
Castiel swallowed the bitter pain of that offhanded insult and merely continued his task. An angel's wings were the most treasured part of their being, often more valuable than their Grace, because their wings symbolized what they were in creation, what they were capable of as instruments of God, what they stood for as divine warriors and keepers of the secrets of the universe.
Castiel wings were ruffled, as messy as a baby bird's who was still adjusting to the gust of winds and the twirl of tornadoes. They had been like this for as long as he could remember, and while he had long ago already accepted that he might never get wings as smooth or as formidable as the others', his Grace still recoiled in hurt and shame at Zachariah's words.
As he went through Zachariah's feathers, his eyes widened as more pink flowers emerged. And virtually in an instant, Castiel had an idea of what, or who, might be the cause of this.
"I put a little something in his drink."
He refused to say anything about the flowers, or his suspicions.
O_x
This time, Castiel was summoned to Zachariah's chambers. "You wanted to see me, sir?" asked Castiel as he slowly, cautiously, went inside.
Zachariah was off to the far southeastern corner of the room, fetching something from one of his shelves. "Yes, and I want you to answer any questions I have for you truthfully. Understood?" he barked.
Had he learned about the flowers? Castiel forced himself to stand his ground. "Yes, sir." he replied.
"Good." Zachariah zoomed toward Castiel and landed three feet in front of him. While he had been at a distance, Castiel would have said there was nohing (too) unusual with Zachariah's form. However, at this proximity, Castiel found himself in shock and he was left to wonder why he had not notice the differences before.
More pink flowers had bloomed, and not just on his wings. There were flowers on the back of his legs, the innermost crooks of his neck, on the top of his head where none of his four faces could see, at the gaps between his wings; basically all the spots that would be hard to notice on a typical day. He was on the verge of resembling a half-formed bush of flowers
"Is there something different with me?" demanded Zachariah.
Castiel hoped he was not caught staring, that Zachariah was simply asking for the sake of the knowing. "What do you mean?" inquired Castiel in the most innocent tone he could muster.
"Some of the angels have been looking at me… peculiarly. When I demand to know their reasons, they avoid me." said Zachariah. Castiel did his hardest to suppress a chuckle. "Is there something I'm missing? Are they mocking the new weather pattern I'm proposing?" he went on.
"I doubt it's about the weather, sir." said Castiel. Albeit he prayed that 'fiery-hailstorm-hurricanes' would not push through.
"Then what?" snarled Zachariah.
Castiel could not believe that Zachariah had remained oblivious for this long, but he was by no means complaining. "Perhaps it's your new policy on weapons maintenance." said Castiel instead, and technically, it was not a real lie, more of a suggestion, a likelihood. And besides, the problem might even actually be the weapons maintenance.
"You think so?" Zachariah asked.
"It's possible." admitted Castiel.
Zachariah considered this for a while. "Well, they'll just have to suck it up. They either follow my rules or they flap around like the defenseless idiots that they are." he said. Two new flowers popped out of his head. He was about to leave when a thought seemed to occur to him. "That reminds me… we're having lessons again later: the enlightenment of obedience." he said.
By that, he meant torture, or the closest thing possible in the standards of Heaven. The idea was to instill traits and morals such as discipline, humility, resilience and loyalty through pain. The process, as Zachariah had desccribed, was similar to the purification of a diamond: the precious stone must undergo immense pressure and much cutting and pummeling in order to achieve its perfect shine. The finished product should be clear, be void of any impurities and can withstand great force without cracking; a predictable, blameless and resolute outcome.
"Did I do something wrong?" asked Castiel a tad fearfully.
"I just thought you'd serve as an example to those who object my decisions." said Zachariah, smiling cruelly. "Is there a problem?"
Castiel bowed his head in submission. "No, sir." he said quietly.
"Good. In the meantime, get my armor and weapons ready; put them in our 'classroom'." said Zachariah.
He had never once really used his armor and weapons; he just kept them for display, to terrorize the rest of the angels by showing them just how ferocious his weapons were, that he was definitely someone who was not to be messed with. Sometimes, Zachariah would bring them to their 'classroom' so that the splatter of Castiel's Grace would hit them as he was being 'enlightened'. In terms of Earth, a polished shield and sword was nice to look at, but a shield and sword with fresh blood staining them was what made them a grander sight, because the enemies would not dare make a hasty move. In a way, Zachariah needed Castiel's Grace - his equivalent of blood - to scare off any angel who might be against him.
Castiel had no choice but to obey.
O_x
By the end of the day, Castiel was exhausted and beaten, ready to fall apart at any moment. Every tiny momvement brought bursts of agony to ripple across his form until even maintaining his light was an enormous task. So he curled up under a weeping willow in the Garden to rest, practically melting into the shadows without his light to mark his presence. He was so tired, every inch of him hurt so bad…
Someone was shaking him. "Castiel. Castiel!"
Castiel blearily opened his eyes and, with much effort, peered up at the one who had disturbed him. "Inias?"
His brother crouched down and helped him sit up. "I heard you had… lessons with Zachariah." he said, picking the word carefully.
Castiel flinched at the mere mention of it. "Yes." he said.
There was a moment of silence as Inias twiddled apprehensively with his right wing-tip. "How are you?" he asked.
For a second, Castiel thought about not answering that question; the condition of his form should be enough to describe his predicament. "I hope to get used to it." he replied.
Inias made a small, uneasy noise, then he smiled as he reached for something inside his pouch. "Here. I got it from the Infirmary." he said. It was a healing balm, a tiny ball of light gathered from the collision of a birth of a star and a death of another, mixed with a bit of angelic healing properties.
"You shouldn't - " Castiel began.
"It's too late now, isn't it?" said Inias, his grin half-nervous and half-reckless. He offered the balm to him. "Take it."
Castiel hesitated, although the pain that shot up from his wings was enough to convince him. "Thank you, brother." he said softly. He placed the balm at his Grace to let the light be absorbed, and gradually, he felt his strength coming back.
The chance of the two of them resting underneath the shade was shattered as Hester came flying into view. "There you are! I've been looking everywhere!" she yelled to Inias. Upon noting Castiel, her expression turned somber and she slowly landed. "Hello, Castiel." she greeted coolly.
"Hello, Hester." Castiel returned.
Inias must have sensed the tension that was suddenly present, that Castiel was still very much vulnearble and not fully recovered from his time with Zachariah, and that Hester was uneasy around him due to the meaning behind his injuries. "What is it?" he asked, transferring Hester's attention to him.
Hester seemed glad to focus on something else. "Have you seen Zachariah lately?" she asked.
At that, Inias glanced at Castiel, since he was the last one to see him. "Not since… this." Castiel answered, gesturing at his form.
"Why? What's going on?" asked Inias, saving Castiel from any further scrutiny.
Hester made an odd face, as if she was holding back an earlier reaction. "You should come see. You too, Castiel; especially you." she said.
Inias and Castiel exchanged inquisitive glances with one another, although they both agreed to accompany Hester.
They landed in a section of Heaven where, ordinarily, there would hardly be any angels in sight. Currently, however, a huge crowd was present, and virtually every angel appeared to be on the brink of bursting out in laughter, but they were all holding it in, since angels were not supposed to exhibit such open emotion. The most that came out of them were furtive snickers, half-hidden chuckles and giddy whispers; this was the first time in the history of Heaven that this many angels displayed so much emotion.
There was only one angel who was not as happy as the others, and he was in the very midst of the gathering.
"When I get these things off me, you are all going to pay dearly!" screamed Zachariah. His entire form was smothered in pink flowers, right to the point that he could almost be mistaken for a moving, talking pile of flowers. When he tried to send an energy blast at a group of angels, a calm jet of flowers trickled out of his hand instead. The surrounding angels chortled even more, and Castiel found himself giggling a bit at the fate of his superior.
Once they had had enough of watching Zachariah make a bigger fool out of himself by screaming and thrashing and threatening, Hester, Castiel and Inias huddled a few meters away from the crowd. "Do you have any idea how this happened?" Hester asked Castiel in a hushed tone.
"I might." said Castiel, unable to prevent a tiny smile. "And I believe I'm partly to blame."
His two siblings stared at him incredulously. "How did you do it?" asked Inias.
"I don't believe you." commented Hester at the same time.
Castiel made certain that no one was listening before he opted to answer. "It started with our trip to the Greek Underworld," he said. He considered telling them about Zachariah's misadventures when he had been under the effects of the River Lethe, though decided against it, at least for the moment. "And… we met Persephone."
"And what did Persephone do to me?"
The three of them fell over in shock upon hearing Zachariah's voice behind them. Sure enough, Zachariah was looming above them, and in spite of his ridiculously floral appearance and delightful fragrance, the intensity of his glare did not fail to send Hester and Inias flying for safety; Castiel, unfortunately, was rooted to the spot.
"Castiel, you are in for the most brutal punishment that the laws of reality can allow." snarled Zachariah, and his lion-face emitted a full roar. "I want you tell me everything, truthfully, before I pulverize you to the point that you would barely function." he threatened.
Castiel suppressed the whimper that was fighting its way to be heard. If his 'enlightenment' had reduced him to a state even less substantial than a shadow, then whatever punishment Zachariah had in store for him would obliterate every spark of light that constituted his being… assuming his powers were still fully functional given his flowery situation.
"Can I get a bit of hush 'round here?"
Both Zachariah and Castiel went to a standstill as they figured out the source of the voice; for Castiel, it eventually dawned on him that the voice sounded awfully familiar to Persephone, except tinier, and it was like she was coming from a distant location.
All of a sudden, one of the pink flowers on Zachariah, in the place where a human heart would have been placed, moved. It twitched, jerked away from the bunch and stretched a little further out, an act which reminded Castiel of a snake waking up and examining its setting. A few seconds elapsed and the flower's petals folded and scrunched to form Persephone's face. Castiel realized that the flower was a medium, a way for Persephone to communicate to them; the flower was not really Persephone herself, regardless of the fact that the petals were blinking and breathing.
Once the transformation was over, Zachariah's anger flared up again the moment he recognized Persephone's face. "You despicable - !"
"You, howler-monkey, shut up." interrupted Persephone.
Zachariah's expression went livid. "How dare you spea- !" he heatedly began.
"What did I just say?" snapped Persephone. "I'm the one who did this to you, and only I have the power to undo it, or intensify it." she said, adding an aggressive tone at the end. She shook her head disdainfully. "For a guy who goes on and on about obedience, you sure have a hard time following instructions." she said. When she turned to Castiel, her features became more pleasant and her voice much more amiable. "Hey there, sugarplum. How's life in the clouds?" she asked genially.
"Hello, Persephone. Everything is… tolerable." replied Castiel.
Persephone sighed, and if she was not presently a flower, she might have given Castiel a protective squeeze. "You poor thing." she cooed. She returned to Zachariah and her expression was irate once more. "Alright, howler-monkey, listen up: you see these flowers on you? Every time you push someone around, or you're just plain mean, flowers will pop out. Might as well have something pretty on the outside to mask all that nastiness inside." she explained.
"You can't - !" yelled Zachariah.
"Do I look like I'm done talking?" Persephone brazenly cut in. "Now, flowers will keep growing on you until you start acting nice." she said.
"There is no way I'm taking any orders from a cave-dwelling whore." retorted Zachariah. True to her word, ten more flowers bloomed at Zachariah's face, nearly covering his mouth.
"Your choice. I think you have a future in being the first flying, supernatural bouquet." joked Persephone.
Castiel imagined his superior as a flying bouquet. It was a weird thought.
"Oh, and as a final bargaining chip, if you be good, I won't spread this around." Another flower stretched out under Persephone, albeit instead of revealing a face, it brought forth a small clear crystal. Soon, images began to form within the crystal, quickly depicting Zachariah drinking from the River Lethe and swinging upside-down from the stalactites.
"That's just a projection. That can't be real." defended Zachariah, though Castiel manage to catch the horrified waver in his voice.
The crystal was swallowed up by the flower. "There are eyes everywhere in the Underworld. You have at least a thousand witnesses." stated Persephone.
It was at that moment that visible fear flashed across Zachariah's four faces, like the rapid spreading of a plague; Castiel had never seen him so susceptible in all his creation.
"You can start by apologizing to this fledgling." said Persephone.
Zachariah's familiar mask of irritation fell back into place. "There's nothing to apologize." he muttered. A flower sprouted at his front.
"And fishes drown." commented Persephone dryly.
Grumbling, Zachariah slowly faced Castiel. "Castiel," he started, and the sheer amount of effort he was exerting was comparable to a human pushing at a boulder. "I'm… I'm… sorry." he gritted out, as if every syllable burned and ripped at his Grace.
"About?" Persephone pressed on.
A huge, resentful scowl manifested on Zachariah's mouth. "Using you as a footstool one time." he mumbled.
One flower noticeably disappeared from his form.
"That's it? Just one?" he complained.
"Keep going, you'll get there." said Persephone, grinning.
Zachariah stared at her disbelievingly, and it looked like he was doing everything within his ability to prevent himself from losing control. If degradation was a real weapon, Zachariah's Grace would have been tattered beyond recognition as he, sullenly, went around Heaven apologizing to everyone he had ever insulted, taken advantage of or done wrong. Castiel tagged along because, one, he was directly related to Persephone's curse so he wanted to carry his share of responsibility and, two, he secretly wanted to see his superior humbled by every means, to witness him (in one way or another) make amends to the angels he had maltreated. It was a quite satisfying spectacle, and Castiel was glad that he was there to behold every apology, all eight hundred twelve thousand, three hundred sixty-seven of them.
"Why is a bunch still there?" Zachariah tiredly asked, motioning at the flowers still adhered to his chest.
"You'd have to do something more than just apologize." said Persephone.
"Like what?" demanded Zachariah.
"Repeat after me." instructed Persephone. "Castiel, your services are no longer required. Your obligations to me have been fulfilled."
Zachariah's wings jolted in offense, while Castiel felt a flutter of hope deep inside his Grace. "That's going too far." Zachariah said.
"The things you did to him went too far! He could've left you in the Underworld as an imbecile forever, yet he still did the right thing and brought you back. Say the words!" yelled Persephone.
If Zachariah had not been embarrassed enough for today, his glare at Persephone would have been more venomous, and he would have put up more of a fight. "Castiel… your services… are no longer required. Your obligations to me… have been… have been fulfilled." he recited grudgingly. The second he finished talking, Castiel could have sworn that he felt some kind of chain that tethered him to Zachariah break apart.
"Was that too hard?" asked Persephone good-naturedly.
The last of the pink flowers leisurely detached themselves from Zachariah, including the flower Persephone was using to talk to them. Zachariah did not spend another moment out in the open; with his level of shame at its peak, he hastily retreated to his chambers.
Castiel gingerly picked up the Persephone-flower. "Thank you, Persephone." he said, and every pulse of light from his Grace reverberated with immense gratitude. He hoped she could feel that all the way down in the Underworld; he did not know what else he could say to convey his reaction, or if he should say anything else.
Persephone smiled at him. "You gonna be alright? Sooner or later, the howler-monkey's gonna be howling again." she said.
That, unfortunately, was inevitable. "I know, but I'll manage by then." said Castiel.
"Take care of yourself, sugarplum." she said. There was that bittersweet aura around her again, like she was a bit sad to say farewell.
"You too." replied Castiel, and he kissed the topmost petal, where her forehead ought to be; Persephone laughed at that. When Castiel pulled away, the flower fell apart and Persephone was gone.
As he tenderly held the petals, he felt something smooth and hard underneath them. Castiel pushed the petals aside only to discover that he was in possession of the crystal that recorded Zachariah's inanity in the Underworld.
He really ought to destroy it. Zachariah had suffered more than enough for today and, besides, Heaven was still recovering from the memory of Zachariah swathed in flowers, plus the fact that he apologized to nearly every angel. He deserved some reprieve.
While that may be the right thing to do, Castiel pocketed the crystal and took flight in search of Inias. He was certain his brother, and probably the rest of his garrison, could use another laugh.
Fin (for this mini-story).
For those who are curious of what a 'mobile' is, here is an example.
Only two angels to go for this series! (I might write a little sorta-sequel that features all the angels that didn't have their own story here, like Rachel, Virgil, Inias…)
As for the next story, who do you think it will be: Michael or Lucifer?