Fic: Uncharted Territories (5/14) (SPN, Gen)
Chapter Five: Echoes of the Stars
Chapter Word Count: 3,405
Total Fic Word Count: 9,217/?
Chapter One || Chapter Two || Chapter Three || Chapter Four ||
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Author’s Note: There will be times during this chapter when audio links will be provided. Please open one audio link at a time in a new tab (press play for the first one; the others will play automatically), tab back to the story, and then read until the next audio link. This is to provide added ambiance to the story; you may feel free to skip the audio links, but it is highly recommended that you do not in order to get the intended full effects. Thank you.
~/~/~
Dean wasn't sure how long he and Castiel had been in Purgatory, but it felt like it had been half a week at least. Once they'd explained their situation to Gabriel (who, much to Dean's surprise, had wholeheartedly embraced the role of Director when it had been offered to him), the archangel had arranged for the two inadvertent travelers to be provided living quarters. It turned out that sleeping and eating were still necessary in Purgatory, even for the supernatural beings who dwelt there. One of the auxiliary Havens was devoted to farming crops and raising the closest thing to livestock available in this realm. The odd food and artificial day/night cycles had taken some getting used to, but Dean had learned over the years how to be as adaptable as was necessary.
Gabriel had all but commandeered Castiel after he and Dean had arrived, and the hunter hadn't really seen his friend outside of meal times and the occasional passings in the halls of the Hub, which was what the central tower was called by the residents of the Haven. Dean primarily stuck to the Hub, as he didn't want to get lost in the labyrinthine tunnels that surrounded the Haven. There was a moderately sized library on the third floor of the Hub; all of the books within were hand -written and -bound. Dean knew that Sam would have loved to see it, especially the section on the denizens of Purgatory itself. There were also personal chronicles of some of the angels who had been here the longest, which made for fascinating reading.
Dean was sitting in the Observatory near one of the windows late one afternoon, watching the people below going about their various businesses. Occasionally someone would fly by, wings shining in the light of the 'sun'. A small plate of what looked like sliced pears-- but which actually tasted like strawberries --sat on the padded window seat near Dean; he would occasionally eat a slice or two as he watched. The sound of someone clearing their throat behind him made Dean turn his attention away from the window, a slice of almost-pear dripping sticky juices down his hand. It was Tesaviel, the owl-winged angel who had been there when Dean and Castiel had been taken to see Gabriel. She smiled at Dean in greeting.
“Hello, Dean Winchester,” she said. Her voice was a mid-range alto that held an indefinable lilting accent.
“You can just call me Dean,” Dean said with wry amusement. Tesaviel nodded and then glanced out the window, one hand idly running through the underfeathers of a wing. Dean had noticed that most of the angels tended to fiddle with their wings much like a human would their hair or a piece of jewelry when thinking. He waited politely for a little while until his curiosity got the better of him.
“Can I help you with something?” he asked. Tesaviel blinked in surprise, her hand falling back to her side as she focused her attention on Dean.
“Hmm? Oh, yes, I'm sorry,” she said. “I've been told that you were asking about why you haven't been allowed on any of our patrols at the moment.”
“You deal with that sort of thing?”
Tesaviel shrugged; the movement was enhanced considerably with the rise and fall of her wings as well as her shoulders. “With more of the administrative side, but yes, essentially,” she told him, and then smiled wryly. “Even in Purgatory, there's a need for organization and paperwork. Luckily, that was one of my primary duties in Heaven-- logistics --so I don't mind all that much. Anyways, to answer your question, I'd like to show you something, but I'll need you to come with me in order to do so.”
Dean nodded. “Sure,” he said. “It's not like I've got anything better to do.”
“Good.” Tesaviel waited until Dean finished with his snack and then vanished the plate with a small gesture. She produced a cloth handkerchief from a pocket for Dean to wipe his fingers on before turning on her heel and leading the way out of the Observatory. Dean followed the petite brunette angel down to ground level and then out of the Hub. They made their way through the settlement, Tesaviel occasionally greeting people as they passed; if they weren't too busy, most of those greeted returned the salutation readily. Tesaviel led Dean out of the settlement and down a tunnel which was only wide enough for two people to pass one another shoulder-to-shoulder. Smaller versions of the glass globes that served as path lights illuminated the way down the winding tunnel, which descended below the floor of the cavern for a hundred yards or so before terminating at an archway. Unlike many of the other archways in the Haven, this one had a heavy iron door covering it.
Tesaviel pulled the door open and gestured for Dean to go into the room beyond. He did so with a little trepidation, as it looked rather dark and gloomy. A low-burning brazier sat in the center of the room, throwing off a small amount of light as the embers within it smoldered and sparked occasionally. The curving walls, as far as Dean could see, were made of what looked to be obsidian. They were a deep, glossy black, and reflected only the bare minimum of light cast by the brazier. The room got substantially darker when Tesaviel closed the door behind her, locking it with a heavy bar across the center.
“Where are we?” Dean asked, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light.
“Roughly translated from the Enochian, we are currently in the Heart of Echoes,” Tesaviel replied. “Or, as Gabriel calls it, 'that creepy-ass cousin of the Chamber of Secrets.'” She paused. “I'm not entirely sure what he is referring to, but I'm told it is from a series of books on Earth.”
Dean laughed a little at that, but privately, he agreed with Gabriel. The chamber was decidedly disconcerting, and Dean hoped that they wouldn't be staying there for very long. Tesaviel stepped up to the brazier and motioned for Dean to do the same on the other side. The low light cast odd shadows on her face, hiding certain features and highlighting others.
“The Heart of Echoes,” Tesaviel began, her voice echoing from the walls, “is a place where things not normally visible can be seen, and things inaudible to heard. I know it sounds odd, and rather nonsensical, but it will become more apparent when an example is provided.” She gestured at the brazier. “A drop of blood in the fire is all I will ask of you.”
“This is supposed to tell me why I can't go on patrols?” Dean asked suspiciously, eyes narrowing slightly.
“For now, yes.”
Dean thought for a moment, considering his options. A single drop of blood wasn't too much to ask, to be honest, and since it'd be falling into the fire and burning away, there wasn't much chance for any blood magic to be performed with it. After a moment's pause, he nodded, and, as he wasn't sure if Tesaviel had seen him, replied verbally as well.
“All right,” he said. “What do I have to do?”
“Give me your hand, and I'll do the rest.”
Dean held out his left hand, and Tesaviel took it with her own. Her right hand held a short silver knife, which she used to prick Dean's index finger. She squeezed the area around the wound until one dark drop of blood welled up and then fell onto the fire, which hissed and spat before almost fading away entirely. A low-level hum started up, as did a soft glow that seemed to come from the walls. The glow condensed and brightened in the center of the room, right over the brazier, and then exploded outwards, leaving trails of white on Dean's vision. The room was plunged into darkness again, but only briefly; when Dean's sight adjusted once more, he drew in a sharp breath.
Shining points of light surrounded the two of them, hanging in the inky blackness like small jewels. Dean felt like he was standing in space, with only the reassuring pressure of the floor under his feet reminding him that he wasn't. As he looked around him in awe, the soft strumming of a guitar began, soon joined by a second one picking out a peaceful melody. His eyes slid shut as the melody wove through the air, filling the room with its sound. He could almost picture long, lazy days of driving down the back roads and highways of the country with Sam and Cas, nothing ahead of them but asphalt and an unhurried destination. There were soft melancholy notes interwoven in the melody, but they added to it rather than detracted from it.
Dean was barely aware of the song ending, but soon another began. This one was different from the first, far more introspective and mature, if such a thing was possible with music. It still had a melancholy air about it, but the measured piano and violins played off of one another so well that it was still quite subtle. The song ended on a quietly hopeful and triumphant note that made Dean think that maybe not all was lost and that things could get better in time. He opened his eyes at the song's end, his breath caught in his chest a little.
“Wow,” was all he could say, blinking in the returned light of the brazier. The stars had faded away into nothingness once more, leaving only the low glow of the embers as a source of illumination.
“Indeed.” Tesaviel looked at him with an inscrutable expression. “Do you see now why you can't go on patrol right now?”
“Not really.”
Tesaviel sighed softly. “What you just saw and heard was a physical representation of your soul. Human souls are almost invariably bright and alluring, especially to beings attuned to them. The more powerful denizens of Purgatory are among those, but even the lesser beings here can still detect it. Considering that you are still alive, your soul is even more attractive. However, given the fact that you are so well suited to fighting the various creatures who inhabit the above-world, the Council asked that I aid you in making a pendant much like the one we angels use to dim our Graces when we go above-ground.”
“So you had to do all this when you came here?” Dean asked, waving a hand at the brazier. Tesaviel nodded.
“Yes,” she replied, and then looked at him speculatively. “I'm guessing you want to see what that looked like?”
Dean smirked. “I showed you mine; why not show me yours?”
Tesaviel smiled a little, shaking her head in amusement. “Very well, but I'll need to do something first.” She reached out and gently tapped one of Dean's temples before repeating the process on the other side.
“What did you just do?” Dean asked suspiciously, eyes narrowing. He had felt a warm tingling around his eyes and ears after the angel had touched him.
“I made sure you won't go blind or deaf,” Tesaviel said dryly. “I thought you might appreciate that.”
“Oh. Um, okay. Now what?”
Tesaviel merely cut her hand with the silver knife she had cleaned off and let a drop of blood fall onto the coals. The fire faded away more quickly than it had for Dean, the ball of light coalescing over the brazier once more before bursting violently apart. Where Dean's soul had looked like a star field, Tesaviel's Grace was like an entire galaxy. The soft, breathy notes of what sounded like a French horn started up from somewhere, backed by slow strings. The melody was ethereal and spoke of far off places unknown to man. Just underneath the music, Dean could hear a multitude of people singing in concert.
'Glory to the Highest,' they proclaimed in voices like resounding bells and chimes, 'glory and all blessings to the Most High, He who loves all!'
The voices continued on even as the music faded momentarily. The voices died down almost to a whisper as the melody segued into a far more heart-wrenching key, with the notes of a plaintive violin filling the room. The music spoke of great loss and sadness, and Dean had to surreptitiously brush tears away from his cheeks, glad of the fact that Tesaviel wasn't really focusing on him at the moment. She was instead staring off into space, her thoughts obviously miles-- or perhaps dimensions --away. The music slowly died away, as did the lights. Dean kept quiet, not wanting to disturb Tesaviel's thought-processes. The angel eventually snapped herself out of her trance-like state, her wings shuffling as she refocused on Dean.
“My apologies,” she said, her gaze still a little distant. “It's been a while since I've heard my Grace-song aloud.”
“It's okay,” Dean told her. “Now, about that pendant?”
“Right.” Tesaviel coughed softly and then gestured at the brazier. “Simply pick up one of these embers.”
“Sorry, what?” Dean stared at her, flabbergasted. “You're kidding, right?”
“No, I'm not.” Tesaviel frowned at him, head tilting to one side briefly before her expression cleared. “Oh, right, burning. Don't worry; if you do get hurt, I'll heal you straight away. However, it's highly unlikely.”
“Says the angel to the very mortal human,” Dean said dryly. He looked down at the dimly glowing coals, his face scrunching up in discomfort. “God, this is going to suck.”
He drew in a deep breath and then reached into the brazier, choosing a ember at random. Dean snatched the coal up, his eyes involuntarily closing as he braced himself for the expected searing pain of a burn. It never came; instead, there was an unexpected cool hardness beneath Dean's fingers. He opened his eyes to see that the coal had been encased in a diamond-hard crystalline coating; the coal still glowed a dim red within its clear casing. A small half-loop had formed at the top of the pendant, and through that opening was threaded a dark metal chain that looped back on itself without the aid of a clasp. The chain was long enough for Dean to slip it over his head, but not so long that it would be hanging out from under Dean's shirt.
“Whoa. That was-- Dude, I was not expecting that,” Dean said, very impressed indeed. Tesaviel laughed softly and then nodded.
“Not many people do,” she told him with a smile. “Now, what do you say we go rejoin the others for our evening meal? We've been down here longer than it seems.”
Now that Dean thought about it, he was starting to get pretty hungry. Those almost-pears seemed like ages ago. “Sounds good,” he said, slipping the chain over his head and then tucking the amulet down his shirt. It was small enough that it didn't really show all that much through the fabric of his shirt. Tesaviel removed the bar from the door and then pulled the door open, letting in the golden glow of the lights outside. It took a little while for their vision to adjust to the change in light, but once they were ready, Tesaviel and Dean made their way back to the settlement.
They were having dinner in the small suite of rooms that Gabriel and Tesaviel had in the Hub near the library. Castiel was already there when Tesaviel and Dean arrived, but Gabriel was nowhere to be seen. The food was waiting on the table, keeping warm with small heating charms that had been placed on the serving plates for the dishes that needed it. Castiel looked up from the book he'd been reading, a pleased smile forming when he saw who it was.
“Hello,” he said. “Gabriel will be back momentarily; Korai had some business that needed Gabriel's personal touch.”
“Which means he has to deal with some idiot trying to 'make the system better.' I wonder who it is this time,” Tesaviel said with a sigh and an expressive roll of her eyes. She sat down in a chair across from Castiel, her wings neatly folding over the low back. All furniture within angelic dwellings was built like that, with wings in mind, but Gabriel had helpfully provided some chairs more suited for human physiologies for Dean and Castiel to use.
Dean sat down as well, sinking into the seat next to Castiel. “Do we have to wait for him?” Dean asked. “'Cause if we do, we're going to be here for a while.”
“Go ahead and eat,” Tesaviel told him, taking some not-quite-chicken and a few leafy greens that looked like cabbage and tasted like spinach. Dean and Castiel did the same, Castiel marking his place in his book before tucking in. Gabriel came in ten minutes later, looking rather ruffled. His wings were held tightly against his back, a sure sign of his annoyance.
“Dad save me from the idiots who think that just because they've got wings, they're better than everyone else,” he snarled, shutting the front door forcefully behind him. He threw himself into the chair to Tesaviel's right, a thunderous expression on his face. Tesaviel merely placed a few of Gabriel's favorite foods on his plate and then returned to her own meal, knowing that Gabriel would soon calm down. Dean noted, however, that Tesaviel extended one wing just enough to brush against the back of Gabriel's, providing a quiet show of emotional support.
“Perhaps you can take Mordecai's offer of becoming your assistant into consideration,” Castiel suggested. “He did seem rather eager to prove himself to you, brother, especially for a kitsune.”
Gabriel grunted as he cut into his meat, but it was more of a considering sound than a negative one. The four of them fell into silence once more, focusing on their food more than conversation. As the meal progressed, Gabriel seemed to calm down; his wings, at the very least, had settled into a more relaxed position by the end of the meal. Once everyone was finished and the food had been cleared away, the four of them stayed at the table and talked about what they had done over the day.
Castiel was interested to hear about Dean's experience in the Heart of Echoes, and the hunter was more than willing to show his friend what had come out of it. Castiel examined the encased ember with immense interest, turning it over and over in his hands before carefully handing it back to Dean. The hunter put it back on, slipping the pendant back under his shirt.
“You know,” Gabriel said when Dean mentioned wanting to search for a way out of Purgatory now that he would be able to go on patrols thanks to the amulet, “you could always see if the Eldest know anything. If there's a way out, they probably are aware of it.”
“The Eldest?”
“The angels who had the misfortune to die first out of all of us,” Tesaviel said solemnly. “Rekasiel, the Architect, is one of the Eldest, and she may know the best way. After all, she built the Haven, so it stands to reason that she might have an idea of what to do. We could set out tomorrow if you like, but it will take a few days to get there, even with traveling runes, as the Eldest live in one of the far auxiliary Havens.”
“Well, I guess we'll just have to put our walking boots on,” Dean said firmly. Gabriel smirked at that and then nodded.
“Great. You get to fill out all the paperwork, then.”
Laughter broke out around the small table, filling the room. Even as he laughed, Dean felt like he was finally working towards a tangible goal. It felt good to be actually doing something rather than sitting around on his ass, a situation Dean had never felt comfortable in. He was a man of action through and through, and had been ever since he'd been given charge of Sam that fateful fiery night. He wasn't about to stop now.
Chapter Word Count: 3,405
Total Fic Word Count: 9,217/?
Chapter One || Chapter Two || Chapter Three || Chapter Four ||
~/~/~
Author’s Note: There will be times during this chapter when audio links will be provided. Please open one audio link at a time in a new tab (press play for the first one; the others will play automatically), tab back to the story, and then read until the next audio link. This is to provide added ambiance to the story; you may feel free to skip the audio links, but it is highly recommended that you do not in order to get the intended full effects. Thank you.
~/~/~
Dean wasn't sure how long he and Castiel had been in Purgatory, but it felt like it had been half a week at least. Once they'd explained their situation to Gabriel (who, much to Dean's surprise, had wholeheartedly embraced the role of Director when it had been offered to him), the archangel had arranged for the two inadvertent travelers to be provided living quarters. It turned out that sleeping and eating were still necessary in Purgatory, even for the supernatural beings who dwelt there. One of the auxiliary Havens was devoted to farming crops and raising the closest thing to livestock available in this realm. The odd food and artificial day/night cycles had taken some getting used to, but Dean had learned over the years how to be as adaptable as was necessary.
Gabriel had all but commandeered Castiel after he and Dean had arrived, and the hunter hadn't really seen his friend outside of meal times and the occasional passings in the halls of the Hub, which was what the central tower was called by the residents of the Haven. Dean primarily stuck to the Hub, as he didn't want to get lost in the labyrinthine tunnels that surrounded the Haven. There was a moderately sized library on the third floor of the Hub; all of the books within were hand -written and -bound. Dean knew that Sam would have loved to see it, especially the section on the denizens of Purgatory itself. There were also personal chronicles of some of the angels who had been here the longest, which made for fascinating reading.
Dean was sitting in the Observatory near one of the windows late one afternoon, watching the people below going about their various businesses. Occasionally someone would fly by, wings shining in the light of the 'sun'. A small plate of what looked like sliced pears-- but which actually tasted like strawberries --sat on the padded window seat near Dean; he would occasionally eat a slice or two as he watched. The sound of someone clearing their throat behind him made Dean turn his attention away from the window, a slice of almost-pear dripping sticky juices down his hand. It was Tesaviel, the owl-winged angel who had been there when Dean and Castiel had been taken to see Gabriel. She smiled at Dean in greeting.
“Hello, Dean Winchester,” she said. Her voice was a mid-range alto that held an indefinable lilting accent.
“You can just call me Dean,” Dean said with wry amusement. Tesaviel nodded and then glanced out the window, one hand idly running through the underfeathers of a wing. Dean had noticed that most of the angels tended to fiddle with their wings much like a human would their hair or a piece of jewelry when thinking. He waited politely for a little while until his curiosity got the better of him.
“Can I help you with something?” he asked. Tesaviel blinked in surprise, her hand falling back to her side as she focused her attention on Dean.
“Hmm? Oh, yes, I'm sorry,” she said. “I've been told that you were asking about why you haven't been allowed on any of our patrols at the moment.”
“You deal with that sort of thing?”
Tesaviel shrugged; the movement was enhanced considerably with the rise and fall of her wings as well as her shoulders. “With more of the administrative side, but yes, essentially,” she told him, and then smiled wryly. “Even in Purgatory, there's a need for organization and paperwork. Luckily, that was one of my primary duties in Heaven-- logistics --so I don't mind all that much. Anyways, to answer your question, I'd like to show you something, but I'll need you to come with me in order to do so.”
Dean nodded. “Sure,” he said. “It's not like I've got anything better to do.”
“Good.” Tesaviel waited until Dean finished with his snack and then vanished the plate with a small gesture. She produced a cloth handkerchief from a pocket for Dean to wipe his fingers on before turning on her heel and leading the way out of the Observatory. Dean followed the petite brunette angel down to ground level and then out of the Hub. They made their way through the settlement, Tesaviel occasionally greeting people as they passed; if they weren't too busy, most of those greeted returned the salutation readily. Tesaviel led Dean out of the settlement and down a tunnel which was only wide enough for two people to pass one another shoulder-to-shoulder. Smaller versions of the glass globes that served as path lights illuminated the way down the winding tunnel, which descended below the floor of the cavern for a hundred yards or so before terminating at an archway. Unlike many of the other archways in the Haven, this one had a heavy iron door covering it.
Tesaviel pulled the door open and gestured for Dean to go into the room beyond. He did so with a little trepidation, as it looked rather dark and gloomy. A low-burning brazier sat in the center of the room, throwing off a small amount of light as the embers within it smoldered and sparked occasionally. The curving walls, as far as Dean could see, were made of what looked to be obsidian. They were a deep, glossy black, and reflected only the bare minimum of light cast by the brazier. The room got substantially darker when Tesaviel closed the door behind her, locking it with a heavy bar across the center.
“Where are we?” Dean asked, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light.
“Roughly translated from the Enochian, we are currently in the Heart of Echoes,” Tesaviel replied. “Or, as Gabriel calls it, 'that creepy-ass cousin of the Chamber of Secrets.'” She paused. “I'm not entirely sure what he is referring to, but I'm told it is from a series of books on Earth.”
Dean laughed a little at that, but privately, he agreed with Gabriel. The chamber was decidedly disconcerting, and Dean hoped that they wouldn't be staying there for very long. Tesaviel stepped up to the brazier and motioned for Dean to do the same on the other side. The low light cast odd shadows on her face, hiding certain features and highlighting others.
“The Heart of Echoes,” Tesaviel began, her voice echoing from the walls, “is a place where things not normally visible can be seen, and things inaudible to heard. I know it sounds odd, and rather nonsensical, but it will become more apparent when an example is provided.” She gestured at the brazier. “A drop of blood in the fire is all I will ask of you.”
“This is supposed to tell me why I can't go on patrols?” Dean asked suspiciously, eyes narrowing slightly.
“For now, yes.”
Dean thought for a moment, considering his options. A single drop of blood wasn't too much to ask, to be honest, and since it'd be falling into the fire and burning away, there wasn't much chance for any blood magic to be performed with it. After a moment's pause, he nodded, and, as he wasn't sure if Tesaviel had seen him, replied verbally as well.
“All right,” he said. “What do I have to do?”
“Give me your hand, and I'll do the rest.”
Dean held out his left hand, and Tesaviel took it with her own. Her right hand held a short silver knife, which she used to prick Dean's index finger. She squeezed the area around the wound until one dark drop of blood welled up and then fell onto the fire, which hissed and spat before almost fading away entirely. A low-level hum started up, as did a soft glow that seemed to come from the walls. The glow condensed and brightened in the center of the room, right over the brazier, and then exploded outwards, leaving trails of white on Dean's vision. The room was plunged into darkness again, but only briefly; when Dean's sight adjusted once more, he drew in a sharp breath.
Shining points of light surrounded the two of them, hanging in the inky blackness like small jewels. Dean felt like he was standing in space, with only the reassuring pressure of the floor under his feet reminding him that he wasn't. As he looked around him in awe, the soft strumming of a guitar began, soon joined by a second one picking out a peaceful melody. His eyes slid shut as the melody wove through the air, filling the room with its sound. He could almost picture long, lazy days of driving down the back roads and highways of the country with Sam and Cas, nothing ahead of them but asphalt and an unhurried destination. There were soft melancholy notes interwoven in the melody, but they added to it rather than detracted from it.
Dean was barely aware of the song ending, but soon another began. This one was different from the first, far more introspective and mature, if such a thing was possible with music. It still had a melancholy air about it, but the measured piano and violins played off of one another so well that it was still quite subtle. The song ended on a quietly hopeful and triumphant note that made Dean think that maybe not all was lost and that things could get better in time. He opened his eyes at the song's end, his breath caught in his chest a little.
“Wow,” was all he could say, blinking in the returned light of the brazier. The stars had faded away into nothingness once more, leaving only the low glow of the embers as a source of illumination.
“Indeed.” Tesaviel looked at him with an inscrutable expression. “Do you see now why you can't go on patrol right now?”
“Not really.”
Tesaviel sighed softly. “What you just saw and heard was a physical representation of your soul. Human souls are almost invariably bright and alluring, especially to beings attuned to them. The more powerful denizens of Purgatory are among those, but even the lesser beings here can still detect it. Considering that you are still alive, your soul is even more attractive. However, given the fact that you are so well suited to fighting the various creatures who inhabit the above-world, the Council asked that I aid you in making a pendant much like the one we angels use to dim our Graces when we go above-ground.”
“So you had to do all this when you came here?” Dean asked, waving a hand at the brazier. Tesaviel nodded.
“Yes,” she replied, and then looked at him speculatively. “I'm guessing you want to see what that looked like?”
Dean smirked. “I showed you mine; why not show me yours?”
Tesaviel smiled a little, shaking her head in amusement. “Very well, but I'll need to do something first.” She reached out and gently tapped one of Dean's temples before repeating the process on the other side.
“What did you just do?” Dean asked suspiciously, eyes narrowing. He had felt a warm tingling around his eyes and ears after the angel had touched him.
“I made sure you won't go blind or deaf,” Tesaviel said dryly. “I thought you might appreciate that.”
“Oh. Um, okay. Now what?”
Tesaviel merely cut her hand with the silver knife she had cleaned off and let a drop of blood fall onto the coals. The fire faded away more quickly than it had for Dean, the ball of light coalescing over the brazier once more before bursting violently apart. Where Dean's soul had looked like a star field, Tesaviel's Grace was like an entire galaxy. The soft, breathy notes of what sounded like a French horn started up from somewhere, backed by slow strings. The melody was ethereal and spoke of far off places unknown to man. Just underneath the music, Dean could hear a multitude of people singing in concert.
'Glory to the Highest,' they proclaimed in voices like resounding bells and chimes, 'glory and all blessings to the Most High, He who loves all!'
The voices continued on even as the music faded momentarily. The voices died down almost to a whisper as the melody segued into a far more heart-wrenching key, with the notes of a plaintive violin filling the room. The music spoke of great loss and sadness, and Dean had to surreptitiously brush tears away from his cheeks, glad of the fact that Tesaviel wasn't really focusing on him at the moment. She was instead staring off into space, her thoughts obviously miles-- or perhaps dimensions --away. The music slowly died away, as did the lights. Dean kept quiet, not wanting to disturb Tesaviel's thought-processes. The angel eventually snapped herself out of her trance-like state, her wings shuffling as she refocused on Dean.
“My apologies,” she said, her gaze still a little distant. “It's been a while since I've heard my Grace-song aloud.”
“It's okay,” Dean told her. “Now, about that pendant?”
“Right.” Tesaviel coughed softly and then gestured at the brazier. “Simply pick up one of these embers.”
“Sorry, what?” Dean stared at her, flabbergasted. “You're kidding, right?”
“No, I'm not.” Tesaviel frowned at him, head tilting to one side briefly before her expression cleared. “Oh, right, burning. Don't worry; if you do get hurt, I'll heal you straight away. However, it's highly unlikely.”
“Says the angel to the very mortal human,” Dean said dryly. He looked down at the dimly glowing coals, his face scrunching up in discomfort. “God, this is going to suck.”
He drew in a deep breath and then reached into the brazier, choosing a ember at random. Dean snatched the coal up, his eyes involuntarily closing as he braced himself for the expected searing pain of a burn. It never came; instead, there was an unexpected cool hardness beneath Dean's fingers. He opened his eyes to see that the coal had been encased in a diamond-hard crystalline coating; the coal still glowed a dim red within its clear casing. A small half-loop had formed at the top of the pendant, and through that opening was threaded a dark metal chain that looped back on itself without the aid of a clasp. The chain was long enough for Dean to slip it over his head, but not so long that it would be hanging out from under Dean's shirt.
“Whoa. That was-- Dude, I was not expecting that,” Dean said, very impressed indeed. Tesaviel laughed softly and then nodded.
“Not many people do,” she told him with a smile. “Now, what do you say we go rejoin the others for our evening meal? We've been down here longer than it seems.”
Now that Dean thought about it, he was starting to get pretty hungry. Those almost-pears seemed like ages ago. “Sounds good,” he said, slipping the chain over his head and then tucking the amulet down his shirt. It was small enough that it didn't really show all that much through the fabric of his shirt. Tesaviel removed the bar from the door and then pulled the door open, letting in the golden glow of the lights outside. It took a little while for their vision to adjust to the change in light, but once they were ready, Tesaviel and Dean made their way back to the settlement.
They were having dinner in the small suite of rooms that Gabriel and Tesaviel had in the Hub near the library. Castiel was already there when Tesaviel and Dean arrived, but Gabriel was nowhere to be seen. The food was waiting on the table, keeping warm with small heating charms that had been placed on the serving plates for the dishes that needed it. Castiel looked up from the book he'd been reading, a pleased smile forming when he saw who it was.
“Hello,” he said. “Gabriel will be back momentarily; Korai had some business that needed Gabriel's personal touch.”
“Which means he has to deal with some idiot trying to 'make the system better.' I wonder who it is this time,” Tesaviel said with a sigh and an expressive roll of her eyes. She sat down in a chair across from Castiel, her wings neatly folding over the low back. All furniture within angelic dwellings was built like that, with wings in mind, but Gabriel had helpfully provided some chairs more suited for human physiologies for Dean and Castiel to use.
Dean sat down as well, sinking into the seat next to Castiel. “Do we have to wait for him?” Dean asked. “'Cause if we do, we're going to be here for a while.”
“Go ahead and eat,” Tesaviel told him, taking some not-quite-chicken and a few leafy greens that looked like cabbage and tasted like spinach. Dean and Castiel did the same, Castiel marking his place in his book before tucking in. Gabriel came in ten minutes later, looking rather ruffled. His wings were held tightly against his back, a sure sign of his annoyance.
“Dad save me from the idiots who think that just because they've got wings, they're better than everyone else,” he snarled, shutting the front door forcefully behind him. He threw himself into the chair to Tesaviel's right, a thunderous expression on his face. Tesaviel merely placed a few of Gabriel's favorite foods on his plate and then returned to her own meal, knowing that Gabriel would soon calm down. Dean noted, however, that Tesaviel extended one wing just enough to brush against the back of Gabriel's, providing a quiet show of emotional support.
“Perhaps you can take Mordecai's offer of becoming your assistant into consideration,” Castiel suggested. “He did seem rather eager to prove himself to you, brother, especially for a kitsune.”
Gabriel grunted as he cut into his meat, but it was more of a considering sound than a negative one. The four of them fell into silence once more, focusing on their food more than conversation. As the meal progressed, Gabriel seemed to calm down; his wings, at the very least, had settled into a more relaxed position by the end of the meal. Once everyone was finished and the food had been cleared away, the four of them stayed at the table and talked about what they had done over the day.
Castiel was interested to hear about Dean's experience in the Heart of Echoes, and the hunter was more than willing to show his friend what had come out of it. Castiel examined the encased ember with immense interest, turning it over and over in his hands before carefully handing it back to Dean. The hunter put it back on, slipping the pendant back under his shirt.
“You know,” Gabriel said when Dean mentioned wanting to search for a way out of Purgatory now that he would be able to go on patrols thanks to the amulet, “you could always see if the Eldest know anything. If there's a way out, they probably are aware of it.”
“The Eldest?”
“The angels who had the misfortune to die first out of all of us,” Tesaviel said solemnly. “Rekasiel, the Architect, is one of the Eldest, and she may know the best way. After all, she built the Haven, so it stands to reason that she might have an idea of what to do. We could set out tomorrow if you like, but it will take a few days to get there, even with traveling runes, as the Eldest live in one of the far auxiliary Havens.”
“Well, I guess we'll just have to put our walking boots on,” Dean said firmly. Gabriel smirked at that and then nodded.
“Great. You get to fill out all the paperwork, then.”
Laughter broke out around the small table, filling the room. Even as he laughed, Dean felt like he was finally working towards a tangible goal. It felt good to be actually doing something rather than sitting around on his ass, a situation Dean had never felt comfortable in. He was a man of action through and through, and had been ever since he'd been given charge of Sam that fateful fiery night. He wasn't about to stop now.