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The ticket price was steep, but from what I saw when I stepped into the ballroom, it was worth it. The first thing you see is a massive chandelier that was made of elaborately carved copper, so that it resembled wood. Crystal hid flickering bulbs, so that the light emanating from it resembled that of candles. There were costumed service workers, pretending to be ghosts and prefects and caretakers and students from other wizarding schools. Lighting effects made it seem as though candles were floating in the fog above us, and fake windows made it seem as though we overlooked a vast sea, and in the distance, through some of them, one could somewhat make out a train, its engine puffing smoke into the black sky, heading towards us.
And the fans were all exquisitely dressed. None had come here dressed in perfunctory or merely functional clothes. They took a great deal of care to make sure that the illusion was maintained at all times, and after one spent the obligatory number of seconds standing with mouth agape in wonder at all of it, one could settle down at one of the tables and have a drink.
Emily, Juno, and I sat at a table. They were serving all kinds of drinks, named after those in the books and movies: Butterbeer, Fire Whiskey, and other things I did not recognize. And there were conventional drinks, too. I took a butterbeer and allowed myself some respite from my mission. Just being here, out of the house, feeling the way I did—even if I failed, I would have felt it was time well spent. In any case, Dr. Tal had been repeatedly reminding me that I should go out of the house, that I should revoke my status as hikikomori. Being there, I could not help but feel he was right.
“Well?” Emily was telling Juno, with a mischievous glint in her eye. We were all so beautiful. And with the setting, it felt like we were in a movie or a tale: We were capable of doing things that we would otherwise not do, because we were not in reality anymore. At least not while we were here.
Juno was looking at Emily. Her eyes in turn were so big, so innocent, as if naïve. She obviously heard her, but it was like no words were coming to her.
“I don’t know,” Juno finally said. “I didn’t know what I was saying at the time.”
“Of course you did,” Emily said. “Seemed like you’ve never been so sure of anything in your life.”
“What’s going on?” I said. I wiped the foam of the butterbeer from the top of my lip.
“Juno—” Emily began, but Juno waved her hands in front of her. Emily pushed them away. “Juno wants to find somebody to dance with tonight, and maybe find a boyfriend.”
I was drinking, but quickly put the drink down. “Great idea. Amazing idea.”
“Isn’t it time?” Emily said. “Even you knew it, the other day. There’s no better time. There’s no better place.”
“It wasn’t so scary,” Juno said, “when it wasn’t actually happening yet.”
Juno had had a boyfriend only once, and that one time she grew to despise not only him but the very notion of romantic relationships. At least, ones that involved her. She was more than happy to read about it, watch it, fantasize about it, and swoon about the idea of maybe becoming the girlfriend of her favorite CUT member (Daeyun), but in practice romance to her was inconvenient, overbearing, limiting, and embarrassing.
“We’re thirty-seven,” Emily said. “If there’s ever a time to try again, it’s now.”
“What’s wrong with waiting until thirty-eight?” Juno said.
Emily’s expression soured all at once. Suddenly, she was wearing a tired, scornful frown. Juno sucked in her lips in a grave show of fear, like a child biting down on their mouth after saying something they shouldn’t have. Emily produced her wand and tapped it lightly on Juno’s head.
“Accio common sense!” Emily said loudly.
“Fine! Fine!” Juno said. She took a sip of her drink. “But let me pick the man. I don’t want anyone ugly obviously, but I also don’t want anyone too handsome, because I’ll be too nervous to function.”
“Just shut up and let me do all the work.” Emily raised and lowered her eyebrows, trying to be suave. “Mama’s gonna take care of you.”
I was staring at her. “It scares me how much you’re enjoying this.”
I’ve been to parties a few times in my life. Enough to know that going to them never satisfied me. Having a good, substantial conversation is rarely possible at a party, where the event is supposed to be a bacchanal of hedonistic pleasures. This is why, in the Philippines, we more often engage in “inuman.” We drink with our closest group of friends, and we talk. Parties are rare, meant for when strangers would be joining. A party is more artificial, but the inuman was a very intimate event. I’ve had a lot more of that than parties.
And I noticed, now, why. Who do I talk to? Where do I begin? And if I decide to dance or go off on a long tangent or anything like that, what would the people I don’t know think?
Presently, people were clumped in groups, many standing because there were no more seats. They drank, and ate the finger food, and talked. They took pictures with the costumed staff.
My clone approached me. He was smiling and looked like he was having a good time. I had the sense that he had wandered off from talking to a group of people.
He leaned down towards me so I could hear him over the noise. “You know Enid is here?”
I stared at him with a grim expression. “Don’t make jokes like that. It ruins my mood.”
“I’m not joking.”
He looked at the crowd, and I followed his gaze. Enid wasn’t there. But then the crowd parted, and there she was, wearing Gryffindor robes, laughing and holding a glass of wine. Enid Garcia, who I despised. A plump woman with sharp, Arab features. Her face was always given to a quick smile or a maternal smirk. This kind exterior served her and her nefarious designs.
“Did you say hi?” I asked him.
“No.”
“Did she see you?”
“I saw her and then I looked away,” he said. “But I think she saw me.”
A woman’s voice I recognized as the witch came on the speakers and told us that the Beauxbatons dance troupe (they had a dance troupe?) is ready to perform on the stage. Anyone who wanted to watch could come to the front of the ballroom or to the mezzanine. The crowd was already quite dense on the first floor, so we went up the stairs on one side of the ballroom so that we could have a view of the stage from there.
The dance crew were dressed like the French students in the film. However, because we were seeing them from so far away, it looked like they were dressed as Air Korea stewardesses. That being said, the dance had the flowing elegance of the students in the movie, and I could tell that they were professionals.
From up there, I saw Emily with Juno. They were at the Butterbeer Bar. Juno was seated, while Emily stood beside her, whispering into her ear. They were both looking at a man across the bar—a good-looking man in Ravenclaw robes drinking alone with his head down, as if shy. He was tucked in the corner of the bar, around the bend against the wall.
I scanned the crowd further and found Raz. He had his back turned towards the stage with his phone facing him, and he was moving around with his lips pursed, trying to be cute. It amazed me to think that Raziel had beheld personally the face of God. That he was there when Adam and Eve lived in the Garden of Eden, when they ate of the fruit of knowledge, when they were banished. He was there during all Biblical times, the passion of Jesus. All of it. And yet here he was, acting as if he was born only years ago. No more than 25, from the looks of what he was doing now.
I looked around further. I was looking for him, for Youssef…
I had not seen him for so long that the image of him in my mind was beginning to fade. I had begun to think that even if I saw him, I would not recognize him. Maybe he hadn’t come after all.
“Didn’t come, huh…?” my clone said.
“Don’t know,” I said. “But I can’t find him.”
“There are so many guys here. Get to know somebody. Who needs that specific guy? That one guy that you laid eyes on for a while like, what, a month or two ago?”
I made sure my expression did not betray my deep, illogical disappointment. But there was no point. My clone knew me better than anyone. I know that, had he been at the gallery, he would be the one feeling what I felt right now, as we were made from the same stuff. The same essential stuff that was weak to such sights and such people and such men. Such terribly handsome, striking men…
The venue was large enough that there were several activities happening at the same time. We not only had the ballroom but also several smaller rooms on the wings. There was House Championship Trivia, a bartending show, a mock duel, an interactive class on herbs and potions, and all sorts of things.
A few days later, when we were able to ruminate on the events of the evening, Emily and Juno told us about things that happened after the opening dance.
The boy they were staring at, I would find out later, looked a bit like Harry Potter. That was one of the things that Juno found attractive in him.
“Are you ready?” Emily told her. She raised her hand, to attract the attention of the bartender. “If he doesn’t make a move, it’s going to have to be us.”
Juno reached over and lowered Emily’s arm. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”
“What are you talking about?” Emily huffed. “This is the problem with you. This is why you still haven’t gotten a long-lasting relationship after all this time. You’re afraid. And you’re not afraid of being rejected or something bad happening. You’re afraid to even try.”
“You’re right,” Juno said, nodding. “You’re so right. I’m so wrong. You’re so right. Let’s get out of here.”
“No.” Emily raised her hand again. “I’m taking control tonight. You can have your life back at the end of the night. But for now, I’m the Captain.”
“What?”
“No what. No what. Say: Aye, aye, Captain.”
“Aye, aye.”
“Aye, aye what?”
“Captain.”
The bartender with spiky bleached white hair was already there, his arms outstretched on either side of him. He was staring at them, his eyes going back and forth between Juno and Emily. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, pulling back the sides of his lips to force a smile. “Can I help you?”
“Nope,” Juno told him.
“Shush.” Emily turned to the bartender. “Can you send that man right there a drink from us, please? One…” She looked back at the menu in front of them. “A Dragon’s Poke.” She looked at Juno: “Very appropriate.”
“Please don’t,” Juno said, with increasing desperation. She was looking at Emily, and then she turned to the bartender, and then to Emily again. “Don’t do it. Don’t you dare.”
The bartender pointed at Juno. “Is she okay?”
“Don’t mind her,” Emily said. “She’s sick. She’s very sick.”
“Oh…” The bartender straightened up. “I mean, it’s not something we should be aware of, right?”
Emily leaned forward and whispered to be discreet. “She’s a lawyer.”
The bartender’s face curled into one of disgust. He turned and then left to mix the drink.
At this time, my clone and I were at the dueling event. Two people were strapped onto wires that pulled them backwards onto mattresses, to simulate being pushed back by some sort of magical spell. They used cameras to detect the very instant someone flicked their wand. Colored lights flashed as the person was yanked backwards. Anyone who wanted to participate had to sign a very detailed waiver. No photography was allowed. Probably in case someone snapped their neck or cracked their skull crashing into the mattress.
Raz walked up the raised area. Everyone applauded upon seeing him. Raz waved at them and smiled, while staff strapped him in. They were evidently having some trouble.
“Macho!” a girl from the crowd said loudly, to laughter and applause.
Raz, too, was laughing, and he curled his right arm to show his bulging bicep.
My clone was shaking his head as he applauded. “Can you believe this prick has the gall to tell us right from wrong when he’s not in front of his fans?”
“Been reading up on him, actually.” I kept my eye on Raziel. I realized then that he never smiled the way he was smiling right now whenever it was only us. Me and him and our friends. “He has good reason to want fans, after everything he’s been through.”
“Oh? And why’s that?”
I was going to say, but I noticed that someone else had come up onto the stage. And whatever I was going to say had given way to a low growl of revulsion. “Enid…”
She plopped herself onto the stage, barely managing to get up without the assistance of the staff who made sure that she did not tumble off. She was giggling to herself, muttering about how she was nervous and didn’t know what to do and was embarrassed but couldn’t help but try something that looked so fun.
“Well…” My clone chuckled upon seeing what I was seeing. “We’ve got a real battle of good and evil here, don’t we?”
Raz was ready and was fiddling with his hand. They were strapping Enid in as well, but then someone else came up: A man in a long, fur-lined coat. He had long hair in dreadlocks and was wearing round-lensed shades. He spoke to Enid and the staff attending to her. We couldn’t hear what he was saying.
Seconds later, she was nodding and the staff removed her straps. They helped her down, and the man took her place.
“Couldn’t wait I guess,” my clone said.
“Guess not,” I said.
He had to remove his coat. Inside, he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, but it turned out that even though his body was covered, he was about as muscular as Raz. His dark skin and his features showed that he was a foreigner.
When all was prepared, they stood there at the ready.
A host, the Dumbledore-like one, held a mic and spoke between them like a referee. “Alright, we’re ready to duel!”
Applause.
“In the corner, we have Raziel de la Cruz!” The applause was mixed now with girls and gays emitting high pitched screams. “And in this corner, Dorian Dominguez!”
They cheered for him, too, although this time only politely.
These two men produced their wands. Dorian had a wand that was white, rather than the more typical brown, and he held it with a lightness that reminded me of the way Voldemort held it. They bowed to each other.
They then turned, so that they were back to back, and were instructed to take three steps apart. The wizard then said that, on his mark, they would turn around as fast as they could and wave their wand, shouting: Expelliarmus!
The wizard raised his hand. The two men held their wands upwards towards their chins against their chest. We waited.
“Duel!” the wizard said.
And the two sides turned towards each other. A flash of light. But neither of them had been pulled back. They were both still standing there. A whooshing sound revealed that someone should have been.
Instead, the two men were looking at each other. Only Raz had his wand pointed at Dorian, one foot forward, as if he were really expecting some kind of projectile to emerge from it. But Dorian was standing there, calm, with an almost amused expression.
Raz straightened up. Seeing that something had gone wrong, he playfully tapped the end of his wand on his open palm and then scratched his head.
The crowd laughed. Some made wooing sounds. Others clapped spontaneously.
Dorian said, “I’ve been looking for you, Gallitsur.”
At this, Raziel’s easy grin vanished. “What did you say?” He took one step closer.
“What are you doing here?” Dorian said. “And why are you like this? Is this really what you’ve been reduced to? The guardian of all the secrets and knowledge of the universe, playing pretend with these children?”
“Who are you?” Raziel was serious now, and he was standing in the contrapposto stance in which I first saw him—his shoulders squared, one foot slightly in front of the other. His brow now showed that characteristic indignant rage. “How do you know me?”
Everyone was so engrossed in what was happening. They must have thought that it was part of the show. It made sense: Raz was relatively famous. Someone so well dressed took the place of Enid, who was supposed to go against him. For a second, I considered that maybe it was scripted, and Raz had simply neglected to tell me that he was going to do something like this.
But I thought that his face was too authentic. After the dinner with the Gatdulas, I knew that he was not a very good actor. And more than that, I knew what Dorian called him: Gallitsur, Hebrew for Revealer of the Rock. Raziel’s ancient and sacred name.
Dorian took one step forward. So did Raziel.
“Wait, wait!” the host was saying, trying to get between them. The other staff also rushed to their aid, including security who were there to assist, but with a wave of Dorian’s hand, they were all thrown backwards, flung by an invisible force. They landed off the stage, into the crowd, which scattered so that they would not land on them. Some people were exiting the venue. But many others were watching still.
I pushed through the crowd so that I could be as close as possible. My clone followed.
Raziel threw off the harness and ran. Dorian ran towards him as well. When the two men met at the center of the stage, they pushed against each other, their hands clasped together, their faces only inches from their opponent. Their wrestling match seemed to be totally equal, and neither could best the other.
“I recognized you the moment I saw you,” Dorian said, almost gleeful. Raziel’s own face was reflected on the lenses of his shades. “I know who you are. What you are. But how did you get here?”
“What do you want?” Raziel said. Sweat was forming on his brow, but neither of them moved. “Tell me!”
“Show me your power, Gallitsur,” Dorian said.
“Whoever you are,” Raziel responded, “stop this.”
“Show me!”
Dorian kicked Raziel, pushing him off their grapple with the sole of his boot to the chest, and he did this so quickly and forcefully that, for most of the people in the crowd, all they saw was Raziel lifting off the ground—as if he were still harnessed and thrown the opposite way.
Now, the entire crowd moved back. They did not want anything to do with whatever was happening here, but they also could not look away, the sight being so strange and seemingly supernatural.
Raziel hit the bare wall with a thud before falling to the ground with another. He was strong, but he was obviously hurt. He wiped his mouth with his forearm and there was blood.
Dorian walked towards Raz, his boots pattering against the stage in a steady rhythm. “Weak!” Suddenly, he was furious. “What happened to you? Is this truly the creature who guards all the secrets of the world?”
Raz attempted to stand, but he stumbled, and had to lean against the wall to get on his feet. Despite the strength of his human form, he was still susceptible to all human weakness. No man could have walked away unscathed from the force with which he hit the wall and fell.
Security personnel entered the ballroom. They were carrying rifles and pointing them towards Dorian. They positioned themselves between the two men and the crowd. They pushed me back, too.
“Sir!” one of the personnel said. “Put your hands up. Now.”
“Oh, please…” Dorian sighed, exasperated, and waved his hand towards the personnel, shoving them all backwards, causing them to all drop to the floor. One of them accidentally fired their rifle as they fell, shooting a few rounds into the ceiling.
The crowd yelped in surprise, and there was some panic as people tried to run. I pushed people aside as I went the other way, so that I could keep seeing what was happening.
Dorian took Raz by the chin, a thumb on his cheek and his fingers on the other, and looked deep into his eyes. “Show me that power,” Dorian said with a snarl. “Or I will take it.”
The bartender placed the drink in front of the boy. It was a red drink that was darker at the bottom, where it was a deep maroon, and lighter on top, where it was closer to pink. The boy looked up, surprised. The bartender, whose back was turned to Emily and Juno, pointed to them with a thumb over his shoulder.
The boy’s gaze switched to them. He smiled an unsure smile. And, trying to be heard over the noise around them, shouted: “Mind if I join you?”
Juno was smiling. She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Yes.”
Emily smacked her hands away from her face and glared at her for a second before turning back to the boy and saying, “Please. Come join us.”
The boy brought his drink over and sat down beside Juno. They learned that his name was James, though he preferred to be called Jamie. They noted, with some laughter, that he was named after Harry’s father. He came as Harry himself, with a fairly convincing bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. They learned that he was a real estate agent. And there was a shy easiness about him, an awkward charm that made him frequently look away as if he had said something that he shouldn’t have, but couldn’t help himself out of enthusiasm.
“Did you come here alone?” Emily said, leaning out onto the table, so that Jamie could see her, as she was seated on the opposite side of Juno.
Juno was looking at her, and then turned her head towards Jamie.
“I did, yeah,” Jamie said. “I’m a huge Potter fan so I decided to go for it, even if I didn’t really have any friends who wanted to go. I’ve met some online friends here, though. People I talk to in message boards and stuff. You like Harry Potter?”
Emily began to say something, and Juno turned her head towards her. “I dabble… I mean, I’ve seen all the films, and I’ve read the books. Recently, I’ve been into Lord of the Rings.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jamie said, making Juno turn towards him now.
“Yeah,” Emily said, and Juno turned her head quickly again.
There was a clattering sound. Emily looked in the direction of the ballroom for half a second. But she dismissed it and returned to the present company.
“What do you like about Lord of the Rings?” Jamie said. “Sometimes, I wish the world was like that, with magic. You know? Things must be different in some ways, but at least things would be easier, because right and wrong would be more pronounced. Right?”
“Fine,” Dorian said, releasing Raz’s face, so that his head fell limp. “If you will not reveal your secrets to me, then I shall take them myself.” He reached into his coat with his slender, delicate hands, and then produced a dagger with a blade that was a shade of green and blue.
Raziel lifted his head and upon seeing the weapon there was a wave of recognition.
“I see you know this weapon.” Dorian held the dagger upright. With his other hand, he held Raziel by the hair, to lift his head so he could gaze upon the object. “Tell me its name, Gallitsur.”
“How?” was all Raziel could say.
Dorian shook his head. “I had wished we could have been friends…” He placed the blade against Raziel’s neck.
In surprise and fear, I had rushed towards him, but the personnel were ushering people out, still, and they kept me from heading forward. “Everyone out!” they kept repeating. “Everyone out! Now!”
I used all my strength to resist. My clone was still beside me, doing the same thing. Eventually, they left us and herded out the others around me.
Raziel suddenly raised his hand and grasped Dorian’s wrist. Dorian seemed to smirk at this. Then, the angel looked straight at him and began to say something. He was speaking so fast and so softly that I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but something came over him, and his visage became terrifying and powerful somehow. The blade was still against his neck.
“Yes…” Dorian said, while Raziel continued to chant. “Show me.”
Dorian was putting all his strength into his hand. His smile faded, and his jaw tilted as he pushed into the blade, trying to cut Raziel. Now that there was no one there, my clone and I went closer. We thought that maybe we could help him. But he turned his head, somehow aware that we were approaching, and raised his other hand to tell us to stop. We did so.
His opponent took no notice of us. Instead, Dorian used his other hand to grasp Raziel by the neck. Raziel gripped the wrist of this hand as well. Throughout this, he never stopped chanting.
The dagger glowed a brilliant green, the way a metal would glow red when forged. Dorian looked at it with a mixture of amazement and satisfaction. This seemed to confirm it. Whatever he sought to know.
In an instant, the blade shattered. Dorian turned away, but much of it hit his face, and he was wounded in many places. He began to bleed, but none of it seemed to matter to him. He remained in place, and seemingly did not need to exert himself while resisting Raziel’s attempts to wrestle him.
Then, Dorian was forcefully pushed backwards, only for a short distance, as if from an invisible power that emanated from Raziel. He landed on his feet effortlessly, and now he beamed. “Yes, yes!” he was saying.
Raziel seemed to grow taller, as I followed him with my gaze. But I realized that, rather, he was slowly being lifted into the air. He rose until we had to look up at him.
“Raziel!” Dorian shouted, his arms outstretched about him, a wide grin on his face. “Prince of the Second Heaven! Keeper of Secrets!”
“Silence!” Raziel said. He raised his hand and motioned towards Dorian.
And there was white light. Blinding white light. I shielded my eyes with my arm. I could see, barely, Dorian looking straight up at him still, his shades perhaps protecting his eyes, although the light was so bright that I wondered if they were sufficient. The light only kept getting brighter and brighter. My head was pulsating. A ringing came about in my ears. A thump beside me, and I realized that my clone had fallen to the floor. As I reached for him to help him up I lost my balance and fell and I too passed out…
I woke up, and I realized I was on the floor. There were many people around now, and I was looking at their feet, pattering around. I turned on my side. My clone wasn’t there. I tried to sit up, and in trying to do so, only then did I realize that I was in pain. It took me a second to push through it and sit up.
I looked at the place where Raziel was. He was on the ground, unconscious. And Dorian was nowhere to be found. I pushed myself off the ground and stumbled towards him, having to push people out of my way, who tried to tell me to stop so that the paramedics who had arrived could help me. But I needed to know if Raziel was okay.
He was bleeding by the neck, although the wound did not seem very deep. He had burns on his right hand. He was covered in sweat.
“Someone!” I called out into the crowd that was forming there. “Someone, please help! Here!”
Three men came with equipment and a stretcher. One of them looked over Raziel. He took scissors from a bag and cut off his clothes, so that he could inspect Raziel’s body, which was battered and bruised in some places, but otherwise fine. No lacerations.
“Is he going to be okay?” I looked up.
And there he was. I recognized him.
“Yes,” Youssef said, standing up and motioning towards the stretcher. The two other men asked me to step aside, so that they could put Raz on it.
“He’s going to be fine,” Youssef said. “Don’t worry.” He took a step towards me and took a pen with a flashlight on it out of his pocket. “How about you? Are you alright? Can you look into the light please?” And he shone it into my eyes. “You don’t feel anything?”
“No. I’m alright. Do you remember me?”
He turned the light off and placed it back in his shirt pocket. He looked at me in the face again. “No, sorry. Have we met before?”
“Annie’s exhibition,” I said. “My name’s Arya.”
“Oh.” He smiled at me. He glanced beside him to see that Raziel was being lifted and carried away. “Nice to see you again. I’m just sorry it had to be under these circumstances.”
I was going to say something else, but someone called him. He tapped my shoulder and said “nice to see you again,” and walked off.
Raziel had me as his emergency contact, and someone from Makati Med got in contact with me the following evening. At that point, I had gotten home, and my parents fussed over me and made sure that I was alright, in their own Filipino way, which meant that they blamed me as much as anyone. That I shouldn’t have gone, that I should have called the moment something happened. And in the evening when they finally left me alone in my room to recover, I got the call that Raziel put me down as his emergency contact, and that I could come see him when I was able. Meanwhile, his insurance paid for everything.
I took this to mean that he could wait a little. In any case, I too was in pain, realizing only later that I had bruises on my body and wounds on my hands. I don’t know where they could have come from. I got calls from Juno and Emily and others the day after, asking if I was alright. Apparently, Juno and Emily had heard the commotion and looked for me and my clone, but they couldn’t find me and had to leave when they heard gunshots. I understood.
Elmer came with Juno, Emily, Danny, my clone, and me to visit Raziel at the hospital. He was eating when we came in. The first thing I thought was he looked like hell. He had a black eye. His lip was split in several places. He had large bruises on his forearms.
He thanked us for visiting. Everyone else settled down on the couch there, and I and my clone sat on the nook in front of the window that could double as a bed.
“I’m glad you’re all alright,” Raz said. He spooned porridge in his mouth and seemingly struggled to swallow. I couldn’t tell if he was having trouble eating again or if it was because it tasted awful, as hospital food tends to be.
“I’m glad you’re alright, too,” Elmer said. “Who knows what could happen if you died?”
“Elmer…” Emily started.
“No, I mean…” Elmer held out his hands, trying to make a point. “Look, you’re not meant to even be injured. So, if you die, what would happen?”
“Well, I didn’t die,” Raz said. It was pointed, but not as pointed as he probably wanted it to be because he was so weak. “I guess we’re going to have to find out some other time.”
“Who was that, Raz?” my clone said. “I’m sorry if you don’t want to talk about it yet.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Raz said. “I don’t know.”
“He seems dangerous,” I said.
“What did he do?” Juno said. “I mean, you told us he beat him up somehow.”
I and my clone had told them that we would explain when we were with Raz, as we couldn’t quite explain what happened properly either.
Raz kept eating like he didn’t hear us. I was about to call his attention when he looked up at us quickly and then returned to his food, hesitating.
“What I say here,” he finally said, “will stay in this room.” He looked at all of us with those bright, gray eyes, still as full of vitality as ever. “You must all promise me that what I say will never, ever be heard by anyone else.”
“Scary…” Juno muttered.
Raz took a sip of water and wiped his lips with a napkin. He settled back down against the raised part of his bed, so that he was reclining. “During the earliest times, when humanity had lived only thousands of years, there were those among us—the angels—who did not know how to regard them. We had lived with the Lord for an unmeasurable amount of time, and He in His wisdom had created these things for reasons that we could not fathom. And we had differing opinions about his newest creations. Some of my brothers thought that they should be destroyed, that they shouldn’t have been… Some wanted them for themselves.”
“Brothers?” Emily said. “So, all of you were related.”
Raz thought about this. “In a sense,” he said. “I mean, we weren’t physically born, in the way people are, but God created us, and we all trace our lineage to him.”
“Why ‘brothers’ though?” Elmer said.
“It’s a figure of speech,” Raz said. “Angels are sexless.”
“Verbiage is kind of sexist,” Juno said.
And everyone murmured and nodded in agreement.
“As I was saying…” Raz said loudly. “Some of my brothers went to the mortal plane and mated with human women, creating a different race of people called the Nephilim.”
“And that Dorian person was one of them?” my clone asked.
“The Nephilim no longer exist. As they too bred with humans, their powers diminished and they became almost indistinguishable from ordinary people. Almost. They still possess some of the divinity brought forth by their lineage. But not noble or good but corrupted and terrible.”
“So, what was he?” I said.
“I could not tell,” he said. “But knowing that he is out there, and maybe others… This is dangerous. It might be best for me to leave, so that I do not expose any of you to danger.”
“Those are just stories, right?” Juno said. “I mean, those angels and everything.”
“No, Juno,” Raz told her. “I’ve put you in the way of danger, and so I will tell you the truth. I am an angel.”
Juno laughed. “What?”
My clone looked at her. “Elmer embodied him.”
“Elmer…” Emily slapped him on the shoulder. “You have to stop doing that.”
Elmer shrugged. “I thought it was an interesting experiment.”
“Why don’t you go back to heaven?” Juno said. “Or wherever.”
“Ask him.” Raz motioned to Elmer, and once again we were all looking at him.
“The laptop broke.” Elmer scratched his head. “And I haven’t figured out how to fix it yet. I mean, I could start over, but I don’t even remember how I did it the first time.”
“Oh my god…” Juno said.
“I can’t risk putting you all in danger,” Raziel said. “I must go.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Emily said. “We’re going to make sure Elmer rights this wrong.”
“They won’t come after us,” my clone said. “We were there the entire time. That Dorian guy didn’t do anything to us.”
“We don’t know what he or his associates will do,” Raziel said. “We don’t know what they’re capable of. But I am sure, as you have seen, that they are more powerful than any man.”
“See…” Juno said. “There’s that sexist language again.”
“Any person…” Raziel corrected himself, with some exasperation. “In any case, I don’t know if I can accept your help. But thank you.”
“That don’t make no sense, though,” I said. “Because you’re supposed to be my guardian. So you can’t go anywhere without me.”
This made Raziel pause.
Emily broke the silence. “It’s settled. We’re all in this together.”
Juno side-eyed Elmer. “Why do you always put us in these types of situations?”
Elmer had no reply for this.
Right about that time, the door opened, and a doctor came in to check on Raziel. I took this opportunity to look at my phone. But then my clone elbowed me, and I looked at him. He nudged his head towards the middle of the room, and I realized—It was Youssef again, now with a white coat. A pin on his pocket said, “Dr. Y. Sayed.”
“Just here for a checkup,” the doctor said. “Hope everything is alright?” He picked up the clipboard that was hanging at the end of the bed and went over it.
I realized that everyone except Raziel was looking at me.
I didn’t know what to say.
Raziel and the doctor spoke for a bit about how he felt, about whether the medicine was easing his pain. Then, when they were done, Raz said: “By the way, doctor, are you single?”
The others laughed. I widened my eyes at Raziel, but he had a sly smile on his face. He knew he was up to no good, and he was committed to it.
The doctor chuckled a bit. He decided to play along. “Yes. I am single right now.”
“My friend Arya wanted me to ask you if you wanted to have coffee with her? Whenever you’re free?”
He looked at me. It seems like he remembered me.
He smiled and said, “Yes. I’d like that.”
And that’s how we met.