The Holy Man of The Church Creek

15

Staring at the people in front of him, he couldn't help but feel awkward. Especially so when he was being stared at so fervently by a man and woman he had never even met before.

He, Xenovia, and Irina were inside the Occult Research Club as a result of the events of the previous day; something he could only recall half of as the rest involved his experience with a burning bush.
It was because of that experience itself that he was told of the purpose of his arrival. As it would turn out, the voice in the necklace around his neck was none other than the God said to have died in this world. However, it wasn't because of the Four Satans as the other Factions theorized, but because of the emergence of something else. During the course of the battle between God and the Four Satans, the clashing of their powers was able to pierce a hole between dimensions; causing a rift from which an image of a Grail emerged from within.
And so, a wish was spoken, and a mighty entity sealed within a vessel as a foreign power was released into the universe.
And this foreign power and influence was something Shirou was familiar with. For he had worked to stop it just before he was pulled into this world. The curse of the Tainted Grail, the filth left behind that twisted the wishes of all.
God wished for peace, but only afterwards did he realize what he had unleashed. A peace that would be born through the annihilation of all things. Yet he was too weak to stop it, a force sealing him within the Grail itself and dragging him away to a parallel world.
Shirou's world.
Even then, there were differences between what the worlds considered Gods. God in his world could be contended against by other factions and strong Devils, but the God in Shirou's world was unparalleled. An existence that couldn't be surpassed. Similarly, the tainted power God had unleashed on his world was stronger, and not something that could be dealt with without sufficient planning and power.
God needed a vessel to return, and Shirou had become that vessel with God's acknowledgment of his character. There was no right or wrong when it came to Shirou, just the need to help others and to save.
This was why Shirou spoke nothing when he was informed and instead remained silent. God was thankful because of this, and then went to explain other things.
Thinking back to it now, Shirou could only resolve himself to find the taint plaguing the world and put a stop to it with the help of God. After all, God's transmigration wasn't for nothing as a semblance of his world's God merged with the God of this world. This was why God knew of the Throne of Heroes, and was able to wield a power several times stronger than what God possessed before. With this strength, God was assured of victory with his help after fully gathering back his power.
Only, Shirou knew it wouldn't be that easy. The sense of unease he had felt upon seeing that abomination at the end of the Holy Grail War was not something to be taken lightly.
Still, he could deal with such thoughts later, for now, he would appreciate it if Xenovia and Irina could help shield him from the two in front of him. Instead though, the two sat a couple feet behind him, backs stiffened straight and gazes incredibly somber.
The two before him was a man named Michael and a woman named Gabriel.
The two wore normal clothes, but it was clear that even then, it was impossible to hide their stunning dispositions. Their skin was vibrant, a healthy tan glow, and they had eyes that spoke of their compassion so much so that it was blinding.
It wouldn't even be weird if the two could appear on fashion magazines.
However, that wasn't what was getting on his nerves, no; it was the both of them and the way everyone was treating him.
They looked like they were worshiping him. It was to the point where he was sure that even if he made an offhand joke, it would be taken completely seriously without question.
This was inevitable though as he heard about what happened. God had been instigated into action at the despair of his believers, and had used up the strength he had been gathering to temporarily take over his body.
God would not abandon those who believed in him.
"Uhm," he mumbled softly while wetting his suddenly dry lips. "You wanted to talk?" He ventured.
"Yes, that is exactly what we should be doing," Sirzechs Lucifer spoke while coughing into his hands to break Michael and Gabriel out of their stupor.
Sirzechs was Rias's older brother who had arrived as fast as possible upon discovering what had befallen Rias. He was almost a mirror image of Rias aside from his more masculine features and taller stature.
"We should be discussing about the coming peace negotiations, and a reimbursement for the Fallen Angels actions," Sirzechs said, his tone hard near the end.
"Azazel would do well to give us an explanation," Gabriel said absently, clearly not too bothered as Kokabiel's could be counted as a blessing in a way.
Their God had returned.
Elsewhere in the room, Xenovia and Irina sat off near the side as their direct superiors were before them. Therefore, they maintained silence as the leaders talked.
"Ah, yes," Michael seemed to snap out of it, but neither his gaze nor Gabriels's left Shirou's direction. "To discuss such things, I still think it would be best until the meeting actually begins. It wouldn't due to talk about it now without Azazel's presence anyway," he spoke uncharacteristically dismissive.
Sirzech's and mouth twitched. It was clear to see that nothing was more important in Michael and Gabriel's eyes right now than to stare at Shirou. Which meant to say that nothing significant would be produced as a result of this meeting.
Still, Sirzechs put up a smile as he could clearly understand the reason for Michael's change.
Signalling discreetly towards his aid in the room taking notes, Sirzechs and the aid soon left the room after cordial pleasantries; his priorities shifting towards his sibling. As a result, only Michael, Gabriel, Irina, Xenovia, and himself were left in the room.
"Father, is he doing well?" Gabriel ventured longingly.
Shirou nodded stiffly, his eyes glancing away lest he see something he shouldn't. After all, Gabriel was too alluring and already he could feel both Irina and Xenovia's piercing gazes from behind his back.
Seeing his answer, Gabriel's expression brightened, and she didn't ask anything else as she fell into silence.
Michael cleared his throat before speaking.
"As you may have had heard, we are having peace talks with the other factions in a couple of days. I know that you may not be Father right now, but your presence there would surely heighten any unease the other Angels may feel about the alliance. For this reason, I humbly implore you to attend this meeting. Can you do that?"
He thought about it for a moment, but in the end, he agreed.
"Thanks," Michael said. "For the time being though, it would be best if you remained in Kuoh as this is the exact location of the meeting. Besides," Michael stared at the Seven Twelve-Winged Sentinels standing guard outside. "I'm sure that with your protection nothing would befall you."
Gabriel's eyes widened innocently. "Michael? but I thought you were thinking of assigning an entire platoon of-"
"Ah, Gabriel, didn't you have a business trip you had to go to?" Michael interrupted forcefully. "Still extra protection wouldn't be detrimental. After all, we don't know what those other powers may do after the news eventually spreads. Which is why it is necessary for you to go on that trip Gabriel."
Gabriel pouted. "That's not fair brother," she complained. "We just discovered that Father is still alive and you want me to leave to talk with those old bats?"
Michael did not meet Gabriel's gaze. Instead, he asked a request of Shirou while bowing.
"Can you tell Father that I'm sorry," Michael spoke solemnly, eyes drooping downward. "Under my rule, numerous brother and sisters have died. Even members of the Seraphim."
"Michael, it's not your fault," Gabriel said, but Michael didn't react to it.
"Please," Michael insisted.
Staring at Michael's earnest expression, Shirou quickly agreed, watching as Michael left along with a reluctant Gabriel. The two archangels getting ready to make preparation for the peace talks.
For a moment, no one moved in the room, but the rustling of fabric let him know when Xenovia and Irina did. They walked in front of him awkwardly, not knowing how they should address him.
"I'm still me," he said. "Nothings really changed."
Irina smiled hearing his words, the awkward atmosphere fading.
It was in this situation that Xenovia suddenly kneeled on the ground and bowed, hitting her forehead against the floor.
"I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm sorry, my faith wavered," Xenovia said solemnly. "It won't happen again."
Saying that, it was as if a burden was lifted from Xenovia's shoulders, her expression easing to its normal calm. Although, the way she looked at him only grew more fervent as if she had decided on something.
"Shirou," she said, before fumbling for something in the bag she carried. At this moment, she appeared demure, a stark contrast to her cold expression he and Irina were normally accustomed to seeing.
"Hmm?" He hummed curiously.
"We should start practicing soon right?" Xenovia spoke clearly while pulling out a condom. "Efficiency can only increase with sufficient training."
"X-Xenovia you, h-how bold," Irina stuttered, her face blushing a shade of crimson that did not appear natural.
"Of course," Xenovia grunted out. "As the husband I must be prepared. Well Shirou? Shirou?"
In front of Xenovia and Irina was an empty seat, the man in question long gone as his enhanced eye sight deduced what Xenovia was attempting to find.
Running outside of the Occult Research Club building, Shirou could feel a cold sweat down his back as he felt as if he had just dodged a bullet. He couldn't understand it. How was Xenovia still the same girl he had first met by the Church Creek? The one that was known to be cold towards others?
Still, despite running away from the problem, he was happy that she was beginning to break out of her shell.
For the time being though he found a quiet place to just think.
Fiddling with the necklace around his neck, he couldn't help but ponder about what happened at that time in the previous day.
Bell like chimes echoed out into the distance, the sound like ancient melodies that played upon better memories.
A time before calamity and enmity plagued the world.
Kokabiel and his legion of Fallen Angels cowered back step by step. Figures trembling at the sight before them.
Grand, majestic, a palace in the sky seemed to reveal itself; spires of white tile and granite forming a castle that tore apart the clouds. Its walls were the colour of ivory, the structure leading towards a conical tiled roof with a cross erected at the top.
Following its emergence, were buildings of stone and a large gate that acted as a guard. From in front of the gate, a tiled stone path connected itself to six other palaces. Each as magnificent as the first, although all appearing ordinary in make.
The Seven Heavens of the Kingdom in the sky.
Each's ramparts were lined with traces of gold tint, an army of angels looking down from above.
It was the first complete mobilization of Heaven's forces since the end of the Great War of the Factions.
At the head, was a twelve-winged angel with golden feathers, the Archangel Michael of the Seraphim. He was a tall and slightly thin man with long blond hair that framed his face and swept down his back. Known for his kindness and compassion, the man's face reflected it: Masculine and soft features that always made him appear amicable. As such, it was expected for his disposition to be more confident, yet the perpetual slant of his brows since the end of the Great War always made him appear sad, and only a few would understand why.
To his right, was another twelve-winged angel, Gabriel of the Seraphs. A beauty of a woman with long curly hair that fell evenly down the sides of her face; her large round eyes were the colour of emeralds. Matched with her demure appearance and innocent personality, she was sought after by many; yet in this instance her demure appearance was replaced with agitation. Like a lost child in a market.
Gold mantles were worn over each of their shoulders. Lavish and engraved with crystal ornaments and patterns. Beneath, was a red Cossack with tails of white fabric dyed yellow in the image of the cross.
Behind them were rows and rows of Angels wearing gowns of pale fabric.
Filling the night sky, their sheer radiance bathed the area in a light no different from day.
All this, and all at the behest of the heated rallying of what was left of the Seraphim.
The two knew it was a breach in the peace treaty between Factions to openly invade a Devil's territory, but they had done so anyway; their emotions in turmoil after the stirring of the Seventh Heaven, 'his,' abode.
Backs straight, and expressions of anxiety on their faces, Michael and Gabriel who stood at the front, didn't even seem to put Kokabiel in their eyes despite the many times they had met in the past.
Both were staring fixedly at one individual.
The back that protected them no longer looked the same, but that gentleness of his aura would never change in their hearts.
"Father," they had whispered lowly, Gabriel placing a hand over her mouth to muffle the sobs that were threatening to burst out from her chest.
Michael was different in that he just froze. The constant sadness in his brows shifting gradually as his pale blue eyes began to well with unshed grievances.
The words the two Seraphim had spoken had been enough to thoroughly stun the others watching the spectacle, but they did not appear to have any effect on that man.
He didn't even turn around to acknowledge them. Instead, those clear eyes of his remained fixed at Kokabiel and the rest of the Fallen Angels, hands balled into fists.
Befitting of their wings, the twelve-winged sentinels stepped forward; their power alone enough to deal with several dozen Fallen Angels.
As none of the Fallen Angels even had the power of Twelve-Wings, it would surely be a slaughter. There was just no question about it, and the Fallen Angels knew this. Some already resigning themselves.
Yet a single hand stopped the Twelve-Winged Sentinels approach.
"From birth, I gave you light," the man spoke slowly, the baritone of his voice sending chills down the Fallen Angels backs. "With a word, the earth trembles. With a thought, the very waters part to my will. I gave you light," the man repeated again, eyes downcast in sorrow. "And I can take it away."
Slowly, the weapons held in the hands of the Fallen Angels began to dissipate, fading away as if they were never there. Kokabiel was no different; the energies he had once been harnessing no longer able to maintain shape.
"Father," Kokabiel spat scathingly, yet he didn't dare to do anything else. Without his ability to utilize light, he was no different from a rebellious child.
"Kneel," the voice was hard, and disciplinary. Leaving no room for argument.
It was like a force suddenly pushed down on the Fallen Angel's shoulders; pulling them down from their lofty heights to stand amongst mortals on the ground.
"You, all of you. Do you not feel regret?"
Once the question was raised, none of the Fallen Angels dared stare at that man's gaze aside from Kokabiel.
"You plunder, you kill, and then relish in it. Can you not see what it is that you've all become?"
"You all have Fallen, but where did the principles that you were all raised by go?"
The man furrowed his brows and remained silent while staring at the ruined battlefield. "You all wish to restart the War, but don't you understand that that would mean once again killing your very own brothers and sisters? That time has already passed."
Kokabiel only sneered in response to the words spoken, prompting the Angels watching to stare in contempt.
The man saw this clearly and sighed.
"Child, are you unsatisfied with my words?" The man asked.
Kokabiel didn't even need to answer for others to understand.
Taking one step, then two, the man stopped before Kokabiel.
The man then waved his hand, a sword of light taking shape in Kokabiel's hands that thoroughly stunned the Fallen Angel Leader.
"Then quell your anger, and strike me down," the man spoke.
"F-Father no!" Gabriel who had been watching silently with the others couldn't hold it in any longer and screamed in protest as she acted out. Yet she was restrained by Michael, the one who was most loyal and devote.
"Michael! Let me go!" Gabriel insisted in a panic. However, nothing she did despite her power could free her form Michael's grasp. "Please," she pleaded. Yet as she turned towards him, she shivered before falling silent after seeing the sheer coldness in Michael's eyes, and the blankness of his face.
If Kokabiel did attack, then Michael would erupt in fury.
Michael would never forgive Kokabiel. And honestly speaking, the neutrality he had maintained would probably erupt in flames, and War would start anew.
Clearly, Kokabiel knew this as he stared at the sword of light in his hands, and then to the tense atmosphere surrounding the Angels and Fallen Angels.
Kokabiel hesitated for once, recalling the days he had once spent with the man before him in the Heavens. The respect he had for the man was still there even in his madness.
Kokabiel's mind told him to strike. To grasp firmly to the sword in his hands and just stab forward to complete his objective. But his body wouldn't listen.
Because he realized that he couldn't do it. Even if Kokabiel hated the man before him, was it truly the case when his hands holding the sword were trembling?
Kakabiel hadn't been the one to kill God. That, was said to have had been done by the Four Great Satans of old. And now that he was in a similar position. His body refused to do it. Just as a child argues and bickers with the father, no child could truly bring themselves to kill their parent without feeling anything.
He was Kokabiel, the Morning Star of Heaven, now Fallen. Staring into those unflinching eyes, his thoughts wandered to a time before his fall. When rows upon rows of Angels, brothers and sisters, welcomed his glorious return.
The woman of his fall was already gone. The desire and lust he had once felt fading away as he indulged in earthly pleasures. Yet in the end, his bed was empty, and himself unfulfilled. It was why he desired war. It was where he shone his brightest, and the only place where he could once again look upon the ancient splendor of the Kingdom in the sky.
When he had first been informed of God's death, he was elated. As it was expected, the Angels of Heaven grew furious, lashing out at both sides and the casualties increasing.
He himself contributed to those casualties much like his superior, Azazel. But in the end, all sides grew weary, and the war settled upon a tenuous peace.
Kokabiel had killed before. Indulged in it even.
Yet now that Kokabiel had the chance to kill the leader of it all, his mind suddenly wavered staring into those un-accusing eyes. It seemed that whatever Kokabiel did would be forgiven; even the most heinous of sins. Because after all, Fallen or not, they were still sons and daughters in that man's eyes.
It was this gaze that caused many Fallen Angels to flee at the Father's presence. An unspeakable guilt clouding their thoughts even before the Father could neutralize their light. This was precisely why battle only fully broke out between Fallen Angels and Angels after the Father's death.
Because the Father would accept them regardless.
Kakbiel's mouth twitched before he stabbed the sword of light in his hand into the ground much to Gabriels's relief. Turning around with his shoulder's hunched, Kokabiel would then speak the words that would end the conflict for the time being.
"We're going," he said.
Thanks for Reading!
This weeks chapter and next weeks chapter will be shorter chapters compared to the others as all my finals are in this week and the next, and most of my attention will be going there. It's too hard to write anything good while stressing about mark performance in tests, but afterwards, I will be able to write more during the break to make up for it
P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious