Amelia Herself

Author’s note: this story is part of a series. Here you can read the first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth stories.

“I’ll keep this simple: bring me a Gate Latch Ring or your sister dies.”

Amelia hovered in Melanie’s bedroom, where Melanie was not. Standing by her empty bed was Cedarwood, an angel who did not glow.

“Why do you need that?” she asked, slowly.

“Because my friends and I have something to discuss with the Guardians.”

Amelia stared and did not move.

“You’re our enemy.”

Cedarwood nodded with a flat smile.

“Sure, but you don’t want your sister to die.”

Amelia shook her head.

“You might as well give her back and go ask someone else. The Guardians kicked me out.”

“So I’ve heard,” said Cedarwood, “a slight complication, but you’re nothing if not resourceful. Why not ask your friend?”

Amelia looked around the room, knowing she wouldn’t find anything. Cedarwood as an angel. He had not hidden her sister behind the armoire. Wherever she was, she was far beyond her reach. For now, she had no choice but to play along. She nodded.

“I’ll do that.”

Cedarwood smiled.

“Good. She’s lucky to have you, you know. I’ll go tell her the good news.”

Cedarwood was gone. Amelia could almost remember a hole opening in the air, one that was not bright like a guardian gate or fiery like a demon gate, but dark. Just dark. Darker than the night itself. In any case, there was nothing left in the room now, save for an unmade bed and a full set of undisturbed furniture. Amelia had imagined late-night kidnappings before, but she’d never pictured them like this. The stillness, and the sickening almost-normalcy of the room was worse than any of those imaginings. She flew out into the park where she wouldn’t need to look at it any longer. She waited, weeping and shaking, by an old tree near the main walkway and screamed for her mentor and friend.

“ORIEL!”

In just a moment, the glowing, white-winged angel was there. As soon as he saw Amelia’s face, he frowned and held out his arms.

“Amelia, what’s wrong?”

She threw herself into his arms and sobbed.

“Cedarwood is back. He took Melanie and said he’ll kill her if I don’t bring him a Gate Latch Ring.”

Oriel patted her back.

“Then I’ll give you mine.”

“But, Oriel — ”

“We’ll come up with a plan for what to do next. No trinket is worth your sister’s life.”

“But he’ll use it to attack the Silver Watchtower!”

Oriel huffed.

“I hope he tries. I hope he brings all his friends, too. Then we’ll show them what real angels can do.”

Amelia took a deep breath and detached from Oriel. She paced through the air with her eyes closed, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth, like he had taught her. Though her incorporeal lungs could not hold any air, this gesture still helped her calm herself. He produced the Gate Latch Ring from his robe and held it forward. Once she was centered, she opened her eyes, saw it, and picked it up. It felt much heavier than it looked.

“Just have to twist it in the middle, right?” she asked. “Just like my old spear?”

“Just like that.”

“I see…”

The idea was laughable, foolish even. It was an idea so stupid that it would certainly take Cedarwood by surprise. Despite everything, she found herself chuckling.

“What I just activated the ring as soon as I got Melanie?”

Oriel cocked his head.

“That…well, she would fall.”

“Oh,” said Amelia, “right.”

“But if I was there to catch her…”

“…we could all go to the Silver Watchtower and keep her safe until we track down Cedarwood.”

Oriel nodded.

“You would just have to make sure he doesn’t slip in behind you.”

“How? Like this?”

Amelia put her hand against Oriel’s shoulder and pushed as hard as she could. She gritted her teeth and groaned with the effort, but his shoulder didn’t budge an inch.

“Of course not!” said Oriel. “What have we been practicing?”

“You mean what have I been failing at. My embodying hasn’t been any good for at least the last two years, if it ever was.”

“Well, the first thing you can do to help with that is forgive yourself for all the times it didn’t work. Beating yourself up is a distraction.”

“I know, I know…I’ll do my best.”

Oriel closed her hand around the Gate Latch Ring then wrapped both his hands around hers. He looked her straight in the eye.

“You can do this.”

Amelia blinked and took another deep breath.

“I know.”

He smiled.

“Good. I’m going to go find another guardian who can take me back to the firmament. Remember: just focus on the love.”

Oriel flew off. Amelia watched his glow travel up past the trees then down into the concrete sprawl of the city — a shooting star skipped across the earth like a pebble. Far off, the automobiles rumbled and growled. Nearby, and owl hooted. When Oriel was gone, she looked back at the Patenaude house. A moment later, Cedarwood flew out of Melanie’s window.

“There you are!” he shouted. “A good idea, doing this in the park. She’ll appreciate the fresh air.

Cedarwood flew down to the park and landed on the opposite side of the main walkway. Two more dim angels appeared behind him through gates of deepest darkness, one with the young woman over his shoulder. He set her feet on the ground, but kept her arms pinned.

“AMELIA!” she screamed.

“Don’t worry, sister!” Amelia shouted back. “I’m here to save you.”

“And I assume that means you have the ring?” asked Cedarwood.

They stood now with the walkway between them, it’s grey stones turned blue by the clouded moonlight. Amelia held the ring high for them to see.

“One Gate Latch Ring, as requested.”

“Excellent,” said Cedarwood.

He nodded to the angel that wasn’t holding Melanie.

“Get that for me, would you?”

“No,” said Amelia.

Cedarwood pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows.

“Oh?”

“You send over Melanie first. The second your friend releases her, he’ll get the ring.”

Cedarwood appeared to consider this for a moment, then shrugged.

“Very well.”

He nodded to the angel holding Melanie.

“Go ahead.”

The dim angel kept Melanie’s arms pinned as they crossed the walkway. Amelia’s ectoplasmic nerves buzzed. She looked at Melanie’s face, which was smeared with tears, red patches, and stray black curls. Still, there was that old familiar spark in her eyes. Amelia thought back through all the times she’d herded her baby sister away from broken glass or unseen ledges. It was always in the nick of time, because Melanie, like her sister, went where she wanted to go and did what she wanted to to do. Amelia looked down at the Gate Latch Ring and noticed the faintest glow in her palm. The ring felt just a little bit lighter, too.

“Amelia…”

She looked up. There was her sister, with the dim angel standing by her side. He went to grab the Gate Latch Ring, but Amelia pulled it back.

“First thing’s first.”

She held out the pointer finger of her other hand, and Melanie returned the gesture. Her finger still went through the tip of Amelia’s, but with some resistance. She smiled.

“My guardian angel,” she said.

Amelia nodded.

“I’d love to give you a hug, but I’m not quite there yet.”

The dim angel shot an impatient look between Amelia and Cedarwood. Cedarwood only waved a hand to indicate there was no rush. While he was distracted, Amelia made a glance of her own between the ring and Melanie. Her sister noticed this and winked.

“A hug would be great,” said Melanie. “You know what else would be fun?”

“What?” asked Amelia.

“This.”

The crack of the angel’s jaw hit Amelia’s ear in almost the same instant as she saw the soaring blur of her sister’s fist. The angel staggered backward and brought his hands to his mouth. Blood and curses slipped freely through his fingers as Cedarwood and the third angel charged behind him.

“NOW!” shouted Melanie as she stepped inside of Amelia.

Amelia twisted the Gate Latch Ring, and in an instant they were in that strange, purple sky, which was not quite day and not quite night. Melanie fell and screamed, clawing at the air. Before Amelia could reach for her, Oriel was there. He wrapped his arms around Melanie and cheered.

“Great job you two! Melanie, fancy seeing you here again.”

“Thank you,” said Melanie, “have we…have we met?”

Oriel chuckled.

“We go way back. Amelia, let’s get to the Watchtower quick. I told Marmaroth about the plan and we’re preparing for the attack.”

They flew to the Silver Watchtower, where preparations were already well underway. Hundreds of angels in gleaming armor circled through the purple sky in tight formation. A squadrons of them came to inspect Amelia and Melanie. Upon recognizing the sisters, they expressed their gratitude at seeing them safe. Melanie marveled at the silver columns, domes, arches, and roads that spilled from the base of the Watchtower proper.

“This place is amazing…why do I feel like I’ve been here before?”

“You were young,” said Amelia. “I had hoped we could put all that behind us…and we were so close too…”

Once they landed in the entry hall, Amelia and Melanie looked up to see the squadrons of angels still streaming out. Melanie raved about the sheer size of the hall and the beauty of the angels. Amelia turned to Oriel.

“Are we going to see Marmaroth?”

“Yes, and he ordered me to bring you straight to his office. He wants to look after you two personally.”

“Oh.”

Oriel led the way as Amelia hovered and Melanie walked through the winding, flight-friendly streets of the Silver Watchtower, which shot upwards and downwards and often had sheer drops on one side or the other. When they came to Marmaroth’s office, the doors were already open, and there seemed to be far fewer guards surrounding him than before. Harahel, of course, stood in the corner scribbling as Marmaroth flew up from his desk.

“Sisters Patenaude!”

The ancient angel, dark-skinned, gold-robed, with wings displaying every color imaginable, landed before them and held out his arms. Melanie gasped and pointed.

“You! I definitely remember you. How could I forget those wings?”

She went to hug him, then turned to Amelia.

“I had so many dreams about him — Marmaroth, right? — when I was little, but then there were other dreams inside the dreams and…oh. Oh!”

Marmaroth reached out to Amelia now, who ducked her head and stared at his sandaled feet.

“Come now, Amelia. I have missed you terribly.”

Amelia drifted forward, and once she was within reach Marmaroth scooped her up into a firm hug. She found her eyes wet and her face hot and her voice dry.

“Why? After everything I’ve done…”

“Because I see you as the Highest sees you. Not perfect, yet worthy of perfect love.”

“But aren’t you angry?”

“I was, and the anger was true. But I have longed to tell you this…”

He held her forth then and looked her in the eye.

“I forgive you.”

Marmaroth’s glow was radiant — by far the brightest she had seen from any angel. Yet, somehow, his gold robes seemed to shimmer even more, as did his eyes. She checked her hand to confirm. Yes, that was her own glow, faint as it was compared to his. She looked back up at him.

“Thank you. I’m sorry for what I did. I hope I haven’t caused even more trouble now.”

Marmaroth turned up his chin. A fire came into his eyes as he seemed to consider the coming consequences.

“If the false angels want to attack us here, I welcome it. Let humanity live in peace below as we bring the wrath of the Highest upon our enemies. My only regret is that I will miss the glory of battle as I stay here to guard you.”

He then nodded to one of the guards by the doors.

“Lock the doors and join the others. Highest be with you.”

Once the doors were shut, Amelia noticed an agitated Melanie picking at her sleeve. She floated over to her to see what was wrong. There, on the cream-colored sleeve, was a dark thread woven into the fabric. It almost formed a little circle.

“I just noticed this,” said Melanie. “I’m trying to pick it out, but it’s stuck in there…”

Amelia could not say for certain what happened next, because so many shocking things happened at once. Later, she would recall that first, Melanie got hold of the dark thread and pulled it tight. Next, the thread completed its little circle on her sleeve. Next, a darkness deeper than night filled the circle of thread, and dim angels came pouring out of it. There was a fight. Glowing guards and dull invaders alike were killed, disappearing into gold mist and shivering shadows, respectively. The guards were so few and the invaders so many that it was a complete slaughter. Someone grabbed Amelia from behind, bound her in heavy chains, and threw her to the ground. When the flurry was over, the office was filled with dim angels who hovered above, jeering and snickering. In a ring on the floor were Marmaroth, Oriel, Harahel, Melanie, and Amelia, all in chains. In the center stood Cedarwood, clapping.

“Excellent work, Amelia. Thanks to you, this operation is working out better than I’d hoped.”

“Cedarwood,” growled Marmaroth, “you are the one who deceived her?”

Cedarwood let his mouth hang open in mock offense.

“Me? Deceive her? Well…no more than you have. I understand you’ve got a nasty habit of calling us ‘demons.’ That is patently false.”

He turned to Amelia then.

“Amelia, this is all going to be quite unpleasant for you, so let me start by setting the record straight. I owe you that much, at least. We are not demons because we never fell. In our corner of creation, we had our rebellion against the Highest and won. He fled, and the heavens and the earth became ours. Your friends here are all too ashamed to admit that we are just as much angel as they are.”

“And Calcorrem belongs to your world,” she said, “It’s not our future at all!”

Cedarwood beamed and nodded.

“Yes, that’s right! Very clever of you. How did you figure it out?”

“I looked into your ‘Project S.’ You’re bringing the ghosts of Calcorrem here so people can suck them up through the ecto-lock technology, now that it’s everywhere. I can only imagine what that will do to them. Your ghosts are…broken…”

Cedarwood nodded and waved his hand in a circle, beckoning her for to say more.

“And they are broken because…?”

“…I don’t know.”

Cedarwood clucked his tongue and shook his head.

“I’ll give you a few more minutes. Besides, I don’t want to give your friends the impression I’m ignoring them. This presentation is, more than anything, for them.”

He turned to face the rest of the circle.

“Now, we have come here to demonstrate one simple thing: the Highest is a fraud. He is not the all-powerful, all-loving, all-redeeming figure you seem to think he is. He is a coward who left our world to rot after a single defeat. He seems to be a little more involved with your corner of creation, but still: He will abandon you too by the time our work is done.”

“That’s a lie!” shouted Oriel. “You’re the ones who condemned your world. Don’t you dare blame Him for your mistakes!”

Cedarwood came over to Oriel and patted him on the head.

“Be patient, Oriel. You’ll have your turn in this presentation soon enough. Now, where was I…ah, yes. As Amelia has said, our primary purpose here is to make sure the humans of your world absorb the ghosts of our world. In our world, we have rigorously tested humanity and brought out their true nature as loathsome animals. For all their pretense of civilization here, your humans are just a hair’s breadth away from accepting their true nature as well. All they need is one critical spiritual ingredient, one catalyst that will trigger the breakdown of all their illusions…Amelia, do you have it yet?”

Amelia thought about the “S” in “Project S” and tried to remember the conversation she had heard so many years ago between Cedarwood and his human agent, Ralph Khomiakov. The latter had ranted about something…something that would help the faithless find their way to salvation. Poor fool. He was as much as pawn as any of them.

“You told Khomiakov the world needed more of it…I assume the broken ghost was broken because of it…starts with an ‘S’…”

She wanted this cruel game to end. Thus, there was a note of genuine excitement in her voice when she announced the answer.

“Shame.”

Cedarwood closed his eyes, sighed, and hummed with pleasure. He clasped his hands together and shook them.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Shame. Not greed, not wrath, not lust, no — none of the usual suspects. It’s shame. Shame is the one thing that can truly destroy a spirit. Shame leaves behind wreckage so toxic that it can infect even those spirits who are perfectly healthy. So yes, shame is our ultimate weapon. Cities like Calcorrem were the perfect breeding grounds for shame. We simply had to tell our humans the truth: the Highest abandoned them, it was their fault, and they had no future. They, in turn, acted on their shame. They committed whatever sin it took to prove the shame right, and thereby made it stronger and stronger. This is why your Devil here is so ineffectual. He seeks to rule by sin, not recognizing that sin is but the humble servant of shame. But enough lecturing! Time for a demonstration. Bring me that book!”

One of the dim angels brought him a large, leather-bound tome. Amelia recognized it as Harahel’s. He tucked it under his arm, then turned back to the rest of the circle. He pointed to Amelia as he spoke.

“Right now, before your very eyes, I’m going to transform your dear Amelia into one of those broken spirits. I will not lay a hand on her to do it, because all I need is the shame already inside her. Let’s start with the obvious, shall we? Marmaroth, why did you expel her from the Guardians?”

Marmaroth only glared. A dim angel kicked him in the back of the head.

“Talk, old one,” said Cedarwood. “I’m not touching her but I’ll do plenty to you.”

“She colluded with a demon and threatened a fellow angel. She put our entire order at risk and endangered even her own family, which she had sworn to protect. But these things are forgiven. I have taken all appropriate measures already.”

“Forgiven, sure,” said Cedarwood, “but only by you. Just look at her. Does that look like a girl who has forgiven herself? Besides, you may have already forgiven her, but that doesn’t mean the consequences of her actions havel run their full course. To that point, bring me Oriel.”

Two of the dim angels forced Oriel, still in his chains, to rise to his feet and stand by Cedarwood.

“Now, Oriel, I don’t think I need to remind you how much you care about this poor ghost girl and how much you’ve sacrificed for her, but let me just ask you this: is there any part of you that harbors any anger towards her? For all she’s done?”

Oriel shook his head.

“None. Nice try though.”

“Ah,” said Cedarwood, “that makes this so much worse for her.”

He produced a knife from his robe and drove it straight into Oriel’s heart. Amelia screamed as the angel fell to his knees.

“Amelia…” he croaked, “love…forgive…”

The chains that once held Oriel clattered to the ground as a cloud of golden mist escaped them. Cedarwood held up his hands, one of which still held the knife.

“See, Amelia? See what you’ve done? By the way, Melanie — ”

He turned to face her.

“I hope you’re paying attention. I’m keeping you alive so you can tell everyone back on earth about this. Better put that gift of prophecy to good use, right?”

“You’re a monster!” she yelled, before turning to Amelia. “Amelia, don’t listen to him. It’s not your fault. He’s the one hurting everybody. Don’t let him put the blame on you.”

“You know what?” said Cedarwood. “Melanie makes a good point here. Sorting out who’s to blame for what gets so complicated when it comes to interpersonal affairs. So, to finish things off, let’s focus purely on Amelia’s crimes against herself.”

Now, Cedarwood opened Harahel’s book and flipped through to Amelia’s page. He muttered to himself and nodded as he read, then looked up from the book when he was finished.

“One more thing, Melanie: when is your birthday?”

Melanie glared at him.

“November the 7th. Why?”

“I’ll show you. Amelia, what was the date of your death?”

Amelia was vibrating. Her edges were becoming jagged. Her face contorted with the effort of holding in a scream.

“Amelia? Amelia, dear, when was it?”

“November the 7th as well,” she hissed.

“That’s right. That’s the day you went and drowned in the river, but, ah, that’s not the whole story, is it?”

Cedarwood closed the book, then went to kneel down by Melanie, addressing her as if she was a small child again.

“You see, Melanie, the whole family was very excited for you to come. Amelia most of all. She would follow your mother around all day long just so she could feel whenever you kicked. But then, when you were just about due for delivery, Amelia’s friends came over and invited her out to play…and by play, I mean drink. Heavily.”

Amelia could feel herself coming apart. She thrashed and bucked against the chains, but somehow they were only becoming heavier.

“So, on the evening she was supposed to help welcome you into the world, she made a stumbling, bleary-eyed mess of herself and pitched right over the side of a bridge. By the time her friends noticed she was missing, it was far, far too late.”

Cedarwood gestured for another dim angel to come take the book, then for yet another to bring him a tall mirror. He set this in front of Amelia.

“I’ll let you be the judge, Amelia. What are you? What do you see here?”

Amelia closed her eyes. For a moment, she felt as if she were in that cold river water all over again. Inebriated as she was, there was a part of her that felt it. The stinging cold, the pain and wrongness of the water filling her lungs, the creeping numbness. This was how her shame felt now.

And yet…

She could still hear her mentor’s last lesson to her: “love and forgive.” It made her wonder: what would it look like for her to forgive Amelia Patenaude for crimes against herself?

She quickly discovered what it felt like: coming out of the water. Not that night, as a ghost, but when she was still living. Taking a deep breath, back when the air could actually fill her lungs and it wasn’t just a gesture. She opened her eyes. Her hands were no longer jagged around the edges. They were as smooth and green and translucent as always.

“I…am…”

What was she? Certainly not some lost little ghost girl. She was a guardian angel, acting in her duties even after she was stripped of the title. But then, if she was still the same thing after losing the title, what was the point of the title? And what was she?

She looked over at Marmaroth. There was fear in his eyes. Naked, obvious fear, the kind she’d never seen from him. But that made sense. He was a powerful angel, but he wasn’t the Highest. He was imperfect. He was…

I see you as the Highest sees you…

She looked over at Melanie. There was anger in her eyes, and determination. Love, too, but…yes, there it was. That little bit of hurt. No matter how much she forgave her older sister, nothing would ever change the hugs they couldn’t share when she needed them most. Melanie, despite what she always told herself, was not perfect, but she was…

…worthy of perfect love.

She looked at the mirror now. There she was: a woman of eighteen, with black curls just like her sister’s, and a soft, golden glow mingling with the green of her ectoplasm. Behind her, through her, she could see the great doors of the office.

“I am Amelia Patenaude. I am a ghost who died because I made a mistake. That mistake is forgiven.”

The golden glow became brighter.

“I am Amelia Patenaude, a guardian angel by choice. I have made many mistakes in carrying out my duties, and they are forgiven.”

The glow became even brighter. Cedarwood looked nervously around the room, but did not move the mirror.

“I am Amelia Patenaude. I am Melanie Patenaude’s sister and guardian, but that’s not all I am. I am everything the Highest created me to be. I am beautiful because He crafted me with care. I am bold because He wants me to triumph. I am clever because He filled my mind with questions.”

Now the glow was brighter than a roaring furnace. There was hardly any green left in her, and she could hardly see the doors behind her anymore. Cedarwood reached out a hand.

“Hold on, I’m not so sure — ”

“I am loved and I am forgiven. I see me just as the Highest sees me. I have no shame and no fear. I see what He designed me to do, and it is good.”

The glow filled the mirror just as Cedarwood tore it away. Amelia no longer needed it. Marmaroth’s office was so bright it seemed to house a second sun. Angels, dim and glowing alike, shielded their eyes. Amelia stood, and the chains fell from her. Cedarwood tried to grab her, and she brushed his hands away. She walked over to her sister and removed her chains, for her radiant hands could flick them away like cobwebs.

“Amelia…you…”

Melanie stood, then just as soon fell to her knees.

“You’re so beautiful…”

Cedarwood screamed and cried and beat his fists against Amelia’s back. To her, each blow felt like the faintest gust of wind. She ignored them and moved on to Marmaroth and Harahel, removing them from their chains.

“Thank you,” said Harahel, “this will be my honor to record.”

“How?” said Marmaroth. “For this…there are no words for this.”

Cedarwood tried to attack Marmaroth, but Amelia put out her hand. He gasped as his chest rammed against her open palm. She walked, pushing him to the center of the circle. There, he fell to his knees, weeping and tired. She flew up into the air, where the dim angels hid their faces in silence, and addressed them all.

“I know why you’ve come here and why you insult the Highest. You miss His light. You crave His attention, like troublemaking children who sulk beneath their parents’ feet. Go home and fix what you broke. Maybe then He’ll reveal himself to you.”

She let herself fall and land right beside Cedarwood. He had curled up on the ground and wrapped his dim wings around himself. She lifted him up and pulled his hands from his face.

“And you,” she said, “you lead them here. Lead them home.”

He nodded. Without a word, he produced a dark string from his robe and used it to trace a circle on the ground. It opened into deepest darkness, and the dim angels poured into it. He went through last, pulling the string itself into the hole as it closed. Amelia looked down at her hands. Already, the slightest tint of green was seeping back into them, and the glow had lost just a candle’s worth of brightness. She turned and ran towards her sister.

“Melanie!”

Her sister stood and ran to her. They hugged so tightly that Melanie chirped with pain, then giggled and tucked her head into Amelia’s shoulder. They stood there holding each other until the angels came rushing in, and Marmaroth proclaimed their victory, and Harahel resumed her scribbling. When, at last, Amelia’s green, translucent form slipped out of Melanie’s arms, the sisters nodded and touched their fingertips together.