Methods Free of Madness

“You must be willing to take something, Phanuel.”

The archangel Gabriel levitated in the air, in all the splendor of her armor and grace of her presence, her gold eyes shining with sympathy and her lips pressed together.

Amane Misaki, the beloved leader of the Brotherhood of Harmony, looked downright small next to her, shorter than Gabriel by a few inches and standing below her on the floor of their private room.

When their conversation had started, Gabriel had noted the seams in her sweater, and how Amane could surely do better; but Amane said that she would not do better, when believer and nonbeliever alike needed to be clothed, fed, and sheltered. That had been the course of their entire conversation, and it frustrated Gabriel as it saddened Amane.

Gabriel had always acted on her own judgment with the Lord’s blessing, Amane thought, and compared to all the others hers was the hardest for Amane to predict and understand. To some humans, Gabriel would speak the word of God. But to others, she would convey it through her protection, or in some cases, her wrath. She was His messenger, and yet she would take winding, bloody paths to deliver His message if she felt it necessary.

Gabriel, on the other hand, understood why Amane — or rather Phanuel — acted the way she did. As the angel of penance, she had a role in the punishment and rehabilitation of the sinful. But she had a strong heart, one that beat sympathy for saints and sinners alike. She would offer guidance and warmth even to the worst of humanity. When it came to the average human, they could stab her with a dagger and she would offer the other side of her body.

“Archangel Gabriel,” Amane said, hands pressed together in front of her chest, “your visit alone has helped me. It is always a joy to see you. But I do not wish to distract you from the Lord’s work.”

“I am happy for the opportunity to see you as well,” Gabriel agreed, but her voice was strident in its strictness. “I do not want such opportunities to vanish forever.”

“Be that as it may, you work with the Lord’s gifts. I work with what is available to mankind, and I have faith it will be enough.” Amane lowered her hands, still cupped together, to her waist, and looked Gabriel in the eyes. “With the Dragon Stream the way it is, your battles in the demon world are saving countless human lives.”

Gabriel nodded, and her lips twitched, first down, then up. “Ahh, I understand. You have my apologies for wasting your time, Phanuel; I should have seen the root of our disagreement earlier.”

“Oh?”

“Your life is worth more than that of a million sinners,” Gabriel said simply. “It cannot be replaced, on a level above and beyond theirs. Their loss is unfortunate, but yours would be catastrophic.”

Amane wrinkled her nose as if opening the door to a room full of spices, but a fond smile spread across her lips. “If Lindsay had your way with words, Gabriel, perhaps she would have convinced me of the same idea. But you are too late. I have already considered and rebuffed it.”

“I ask you this as both Phanuel and Amane Misaki,” Gabriel said, trying to reinforce the point. “Will you do whatever is necessary to ensure your dogma comes to fruition?”

“I will.” Amane hardened her gaze, not looking away from the archangel for a moment. “However, I do not think sacrifices, not on your part or mankind’s, are necessary to reach that goal.”

“I fear that sacrifice will be necessary regardless, and that you are losing the opportunity to choose what is sacrificed.”

Amane frowned. “Perhaps.”

“…I have a gift for you,” Gabriel’s smile broadened suddenly. “And with the passing of eons since the Lord bestowed it unto me, even you will not argue that it is anything but mine to give.”

She flipped the sword in her hand down towards the ground, adjusted her grip, and offered the hilt to Amane.

“Gabriel, I can’t.”

“You can. And you will put it to better use than I have.” Gabriel chuckled, and the sound echoed like the ringing of a bell from where she stood. “It has been a century since I have needed to use it. I vanquish demons with miracles of magic. But when the horn of battle resounds, you are always closer to the front.”

Amane stood there for what may have been a full minute as the hearth crackled near them, staring at Gabriel’s personal sword. Then she took the hilt firmly in her hands, and held it in front of her.

It was a magnificent blade, of course.

“Words cannot express my appreciation, archangel,” Amane said, lowering the sword to her waist and bowing her head.

“Then please, express it through your actions,” Gabriel replied, and her smile blossomed fully. “Through the message you send to Stand-Alone. I look forward to the day we can celebrate the realization of Unity together.”

“And that day will come,” Amane said. “Of that I have faith.”