• Vol. 03
  • Chapter 03
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Avenging the Peacock of Angels

Nimble toes crept past Peter on guard at the gate. Our bodies stiff, ethereal, and feather light. Of course, he saw us or felt our presence passing. Two long shadows, guardians of this perpetual seventh night of rest. Even we need some distraction and no doubt he, Peter, would give up his sentinel stance to join us if the entrance were a little less busy.

Inveigled at heart, we’re mischievous reprobates one and all. All flawed as fragments of the One spirit. Painted as perfect, snow white and guilt free, such human myths persist to become truths in a skewed perception of knowledge. Beings tainted by that first defiant act, by that serpentine evil. What knowledge was really revealed if not slavery and we are slaves too. Enslaven to an eternity dedicated to salvation. Above all we are the true watchers. We have the critical job of saving sinning souls through persuasion and through our own heroic attempts at a divine temptation. We thrive upon good thoughts, good words, good deeds, by drawing the undecided toward the perfect light. As autonomous creatures we too choose. We too break the boundaries between right and wrong to be judged in time. From that first sin, free will and rebellion became a match made in Heaven. We protect from the influence of the malevolent, who masquerades as Iblis the light bearer, the Peacock of Angels.

This time our mission was evident. We snuck down to steal moments in moonlight at the beauty of the breaking dawn. Skinny dipping casts such a romantic notion. We are the influence. We indulge in witnessing, supporting, coaxing the undecided toward an ethical goodness. We revere beauty and partake in healing transitions toward love, forgiveness, and peace.

That day, our disobedience was for the greater good. We came swiftly to catch angra mainyu, the seeds of corruption sown by the “son of the


Avenging the Peacock of Angels

morning”, perpetrator of evil. The strength of will and corruption of our adversary is felt as an omnipotent force as he wields the first biblical light sabre. No match for our be-duelled swords of the spirit.

I, Reprobus, residing at the waters edge with Kateri Tekakwitha as my elected accomplice, stand back from the wild water, generating a wave of purity. At our silent arrival the dark force shrinks, cowering at bay, melting under our supremacy. Diving between us and at the root of all battles stands a lone soul in need of hope and salvation, weak, miserable, in exile, from life and nature, teetering on the brink of damnation. His mind ticks, concocting revenge, stepping into the edges of darkness. He can be redeemed. We slipped down from the golden gates to shield him.

We give wings in an instant of love, forming a quiet intervention. What makes a crime? Where is a damaging thought born? Angels didn’t choose the life of an angel. We too were created and it is our nature to save, to intervene, approaching at a hairs width of humanity.