Suddenly A Succubus

Vee nervously paced back and forth across the den, illuminated by the myriad different rays of light drifting in from the nearby windows. Zadkiel's words rattled around in her head, a discordant chorus of a thousand bells, before she spun to face the archangel once more.

"But how? That's not what-- Why would-- How?!"

Hope skipped closer and calmly grabbed Vee's hand. "C'mon, Vee, sit back down. I'm sure this is just some sort of misunderstanding." She looked back at Zadkiel, still sitting in his armchair next to his piping hot cup of tea. "Right, Daddy?"

"I do not control what our Church on Earth tells those under their command," Zadkiel said. "But above all else, I promise I am not lying. I still remember the conversation my siblings and I had regarding the decision to fundamentally alter the nature of angels. It was not a course of action we pursued lightly, and that particular debate lasted for many centuries longer than most."

"It doesn't make any sense!" Vee said, unexpectedly raising her voice. "I-I feel it myself every time I use my power! It comes from somewhere beyond me, I have to ask it to manifest, just like the Church said."

Zadkiel briefly furrowed his eyebrows as he took a sip of tea. "That's... hm. I think I see where the misconception comes from, though I cannot say for certain if this misinterpretation was deliberate or not." After setting his drink down, Zadkiel gestured to the chair across from himself once more. "I agree with my daughter, Vee. Perhaps it is best you sit down."

Frustrated at how calm everyone seemed, Vee nonetheless forced herself to sit down. "They told me, time after time, that my angelic powers come from my faith in Heaven. Through that belief, my Patron channels the power of Creation to me, which I then use to enact my desires."

"That is partially true," Zadkiel said. "Your power comes from your faith, but crucially,notyour faith in Heaven."

"I... I don't understand." Vee clutched Hope's hand more tightly, only just now realizing she'd never released it as she sat back down. "I don't mean to question your wisdom, archangel Zadkiel, but if not my faith in Heaven, then what? What am I supposed to believe in?" she asked quietly, her words shaking with uncertainty.

"Your power comes from faith, young Vee. Not faith in others, not faith in a higher power; simply the act of believing in and of itself."

Vee paused. The archangel in front of her spoke with such sincerity, such elegance, that she almost felt silly for thinking his declaration to be overly simplistic. She tried to think back to all the times her powers had manifested, how they'd felt as they appeared, but fighting through the haze of her conflicted emotions proved difficult.

"Daddy, perhaps a bit of context might help?" Hope said quietly. She quietly reached for Vee's forearm to offer comfort.

"You are wise beyond your years, as always," Zadkiel said with a warm smile. He took another sip of tea, then began to speak. "The decision to alter the nature of angels was a contentious one, but it needed to be done. All throughout human history, our attempts to assist mankind frequently went awry. Simple instructions were easy to bend, to misinterpret, while attempts to speak directly to mortals only reinforced how little we understood about them. Creatures of the Divine, those who wield Creation, are simply too far removed from the existence humans face."

"That much I know, the Church explained all of that," Vee said. "By putting angels on Earth, it became easier to enact change without disrupting humankind."

"The challenge, young Vee, was how to make that happen. Like I just said, creatures of the Divine are fundamentally different than Mortals, yet we were attempting to create ordinary humans with the ability to harness Creation when needed. In the end, the answer was to fracture their existence."

"I'm sorry, fracture? That doesn't exactly sound pleasant." Vee shivered as she imagined powers beyond her comprehension splitting her in half.

Zadkiel grimaced. "Perhaps not the best choice of words. We opted to... erect a boundary between the mortal angels of Earth and the source of their powers. If your power was truly integrated with your soul, you would cease to be mortal, rendering the whole arrangement pointless."

"Which is why I need to channel power from my Patron," Vee muttered. "At least, that's what I was told."

Shaking his head, Zadkiel continued. "Such an arrangement isn't possible. Heaven isn't simply another plane of existence; it is more vast than any moral mind can fully comprehend. An active connection between an angel and their Patron isn't just nigh impossible, its presence would actively harm the Earth itself."

Vee's breath quickened as the pieces clicked together. "So the only answer was--"

"To give each angel their own source of power, their own connection to the well of Creation. Like I said, young Vee: your power is your own."

"Then why is it failing me? Are you saying this is all my fault?!" Tears welled in Vee's eyes as she punched the armrest of Hope's chair.

Zadkiel held up a hand and the ambient light in the room briefly bent towards him. "I explained this earlier, Vee. Your power, your tether to the infinite Creation of the cosmos, is directly tied to your faith. What do you believe in? Where does your faith lie?"

"I..." Vee hesitated. It sounded so simple when explained by an archangel, yet she couldn't think of an answer. "I don't know."

"Then you have your answer, Vee," Zadkiel said, reaching for his tea once more. "Your faith has been shaken, and in the absence of that belief, your powers falter."

"This is a recent change, though," Vee said. "I had several months where my powers grew stronger with each passing day. The very first time I manifested Enochian flames, I was alone with Amara in Purgatory. How does that make sense?"

Hope squeezed her hand to pull her attention. "How did it happen? What was the context?"

Vee's face flushed as she thought back to that moment. "Well, I... She, um-- We were stranded in Purgatory, and she was really weak, so I..." Nervously glancing up at Zadkiel, Vee reminded herself that she'd already admitted to being in love with Amara. If the archangel had any plans to smite her, he would have done so already. "I, um, let her feed on me. On my arousal, I mean. Hence my confusion; why would my powers grow stronger after such an intimate activity with a demon?"

"It sounds like you had faith in your actions. You believed you were doing the right thing for your friend, and that belief manifested as the flames of Creation," Hope said, failing to hide another giddy smirk as she listened to yet more details of Vee's forbidden relationship.

"It can't be that simple, can it?" Vee asked incredulously. "Just... believing in myself?"

Hearing this, Zadiel shook his head. "You are correct in assuming it is not that simple. It is the belief that your actions are just, the strength of conviction needed to act on those beliefs."

"Acting on them?" Vee asked. "Is being faithful not enough? I must also act to prove my belief?"

"That isn't the best way to explain it, but it's not exactly incorrect, either," Zadkiel said. "I apologize for the vagueness of what I'm trying to say. Believe me, it is much easier to explain in the language of Creation."

"It's called a leap of faith for a reason," Hope said, cheerfully chipping in. "The point isn't that you're taking action to prove your beliefs; it's that your beliefs are so strong they drive you to make decisions even if you can't anticipate the outcome. At its heart, isn't that what faith is?"

"My halo!" Vee exclaimed. "The first time it appeared, the strongest I've ever been, was just after I stopped Amara from killing Miss Davenport! I refused to believe she was a killer, so I threw myself between the two of them and stopped the fight. I almost died, my powers were freaking out, but then we finally kissed and admitted our feelings for each other. My halo appeared immediately after!"

Hope let out a small squeal of excitement. "If that's not a leap of faith, I don't know what is!"

"So, my fading powers, this weakness I've been battling..." Vee tried to think through the last few weeks she'd spent at college. "I was avoiding my home, my past. I was afraid of what the Church might say if they found out about me and Amara."

"Shame is a powerful motivator," Zadkiel said.

"I'm not ashamed of who I am! I love Amara more than anything, and I'd do anything to protect her!" Vee protested.

"I did not mean to insinuate that you didn't, young Vee. But are you willing to proclaim your love to your Church? To Heaven? Your parents? There comes a point where you can no longer play both sides. Inevitably, a choice needs to be made." As Zadkiel spoke his words grew quiet, almost withdrawn. His gaze, normally clear and powerful, wavered slightly as he turned his attention inward.

As if mirroring his actions, Vee did the same.

He's right. I've been terrified of someone finding out, but it's not just that. At Tadghán's, Amara told me that my libido started waning even before I noticed my fading powers. Is there more to this than revealing our relationship to the world?

Am I scared of losing her? Scared that our mismatched libidos might drive us apart? She's bending over backwards to stay monogamous, which she's only doing because of me, but I can tell it's difficult for her.

What if I'm holding her back?

The thought disturbed her. She'd observed it, given it form, and now it was impossible to think of anything else. It was only when the archangel across from her spoke up that she managed to shake herself back to reality.

"Hope," Zadkiel said softly. "I would like to take a walk with Vee. Can I ask that you stay behind while I do?"

With a heavy sigh, Hope quickly looked between Vee and Zadkiel. "Fiiiine. I'll stay here."

Zadkiel stood and offered a hand to Vee. The weight of her feelings threatened to pin her down, but the archangel's kind smile proved refuge enough to lift her spirits, if only for now. She took his hand, stood up, and followed him to the peaceful meadow in front of his cottage.

"Did I... do something wrong, Zadkiel?" Vee asked nervously. He still hadn't decided if she could leave or not, and his asking Hope to leave them alone frightened her.

They walked for several minutes in absolute silence, the only noise the faint babbling of the nearby brook. Zadkiel led Vee to a series of tall fruit trees, each more beautiful and ethereal than the last, and eventually raised a hand to gently caress the faintly luminescent bark. "Nothing at all, young Vequaniel. Quite the opposite, in fact."

Watching Zadkiel grow so pensive was somehow unnerving and comforting at the same time. "I don't understand."

After taking a deep breath, he turned to look at her again. Just behind his radiant blue eyes, Vee saw glimpses of the cosmos and shivered. "In a different life, I knew nothing but the immaculate glory of Heaven. I existed across eons, beyond time, and more than anything else, I lived in certainty. Certainty that I was doing the right thing, guiding humanity towards a better future. My consciousness, just as the consciousness of all archangels, was not a singular thing. I refer to myself in the singular now, but it took many years to truly internalize the idea."

"I'm sorry, Zadkiel. I can't imagine that was an easy process."

"Far from it, but that's not what I hoped to talk about." A gentle breeze swept through the clearing, rustling Zadkiel's immaculate blonde hair as he continued. "In that life, I was surrounded by peers. I was never alone, and even had everyone else vacated my perception, I still would have had myself. Archangels, we... we watch, for lack of a better phrase. We observe humanity, all in different capacities, with my domain being mercy. It was in the process of this observation, of trying to find the truest examples of mercy on Earth, that I found her."

Vee glanced back at the cottage. "You mean Hope's mother?"

Zadkiel nodded. "The very same. One of my many iterations, it... I don't know how to describe it. I grew attached, fixated. I wanted to learn more about her, but not just from an outsider's perspective. I manifested, in some small part of myself, and I spoke with her. It was the first time I truly saw humanity. Not as a collective, but as something more. I will spare you the full story, but suffice to say, Hope is the result of this curiosity. My daughter, the light of my life, is a being of two worlds, a true progeny of an archangel and a human."

"A Nephilim," Vee muttered.

"According to Heaven, she does not and cannot exist. When they learned of my actions, I was torn from the Heavens and cast down to Earth. That is where Evelyn found me all those years ago. In that moment, I became singular, and I learned what it meant to be alone."

Although scared to overstep her boundaries, Vee couldn't fight the urge to try and comfort Zadkiel. She carefully placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. "That sounds terrible, I'm so sorry."

"You are the first divine entity I've spoken to since I was cast out of Heaven, Vequaniel." Zadkiel placed his hand atop hers and smiled. "Your presence could easily have been malicious, a sign of weakening protection against Heavenly malice. Instead, however, you speak to me of matters I have wrestled with for decades. What does it mean to believe when the kingdom of Heaven frowns upon our actions? How do we reconcile our feelings of love against the scripture that tells us who we love is wrong?"

As the breeze continued tossing Zadkiel's hair, the light of the clearing started bending towards him as well. Despite the presence of the sun, Vee swore she felt its heat.

"I do not know how you are here, Vequaniel," Zadkiel admitted. "Everything I know says your presence here should be impossible, yet here you stand, perhaps the one person most capable of understanding me. Is our meeting an act of God? Could this be a sign I have not lost His favor?"

In all of Vee's life, she could never have imagined meeting an archangel. Yet even had she been bold enough to dream she might, she would have considered it even more impossible to see one cry.

Tears slid down Zadkiel's cheek as he spoke of God, his gaze turned towards the multicolored sky.

"Perhaps it is better you do not know, Zadkiel. Only then can your faith be strongest, right?" Vee said quietly.

Silence fell once more, as if the entirety of the clearing bent to Zadkiel's desire for reflection. Vee watched patiently, the sight of this archangel moving her to tears alongside him, but also spurring a single, powerful question in her mind.

I'm never going to have this chance again.

"What is God like?" Vee asked quietly.

Turning his gaze back towards Vee, Zadkiel smiled once more. "No one knows."

Disbelief and shock forced an unexpected laugh from Vee. "I... no one?"

"We cannot even say for sure if God exists," he admitted. "If they do, their existence is so vast that it would be impossible for even the archangels of Heaven to comprehend. The Metatron once claimed to speak for God, but it is just as likely they speak only mad delusions. Of course, perhaps conversing with a being so vast drives one mad, and the Metatron spoke only truth. We will never, and can never, know."

Stunned, Vee remained silent. What was there possibly to say after learning that the archangels themselves didn't even know if God exists?

Zadkiel walked away from Vee, leading her to the small river that skipped and bubbled nearby. He slowly sank to the plush grass beneath them, then dipped his legs into the water, pants and all. Vee continued to mimic his behavior, the simplicity of this gesture feeling like one of the most profound actions she'd ever taken.

"In my full glory, I existed beyond space and time. Nigh-infinite knowledge, yet with all that wisdom, I never knew the joy of a simple river. The delight of a home-cooked meal, the beautiful memories that arise from sharing a car ride with a treasured friend. I will be honest with you, Vee; I do not want you to leave. Yes, I'm ecstatic to see Hope so animated, but I am surprised to find I enjoy your presence here as well. In spite of this, however, I will not stand in the way of your departure. I ask only that you give me one chance to be selfish, to ask for something that only you can provide."

A sigh of relief escaped Vee's lips, though it carried faint hesitation with it. What could she possibly offer an archangel?

"Is it true that, on Earth, people sometimes turn to religious leaders to confess? To share their insecurities and admit their wrongdoings?"

He wants me to confess my sins to him?

"That... Yes, that is a thing, Zadkiel. What would you like me to share?"

The archangel shook his head. "You have it backwards. I have something weighing on me, and I would like a friend to confide in. In all my years of life, however, I've only made two, and neither of them are here with me now. For now, might I consider you a friend?"

Vee nodded slowly. "Of course, Zadkiel. It would be an honor."

Water swirled and bubbled around Vee's feet, appearing much more alive than she would have anticipated, and she watched Zadkiel stare deep into his flickering reflection in the river while he gathered his thoughts. "I fear I may have accidentally betrayed someone."

After allowing space for the statement to sit, Vee responded. "How so?"

Zadkiel reached out and grabbed Vee's hand unexpectedly, gripping it tightly. "When I first appeared on this Earth, I was rescued by Evelyn. I called her terrible names, insulted her constantly, all while she patiently escorted me across the country. Had she listened to my requests and freed me, Hope and I would have been captured by your local government and forced into some kind of twisted servitude. She displayed more patience and maturity than any archangel I've ever known, and in the last moments of her company, I offered her a Miracle."

"I heard as much from Amara. A parting gift in thanks of everything she did for you."

"Except... I can't in good faith say that's what I intended it to be." Zadkiel's grip tightened, and droplets fell from his face to join the river around their legs. "I was thankful for her actions, of course I was, but they didn't make sense. She is an archdemon; Lilith's firstborn of all things. Accepting that she merely wanted to help meant turning my back on my entire faith, and in those final moments... I faltered."

He took a deep breath, one that shook his body as it released. "When I cast my thoughts back to that moment, I still do not know what my intentions were. Was the offer genuine? Had I intended it to be a trap? The only thing I can say for sure is that I expected her to choose power, prestige, or something of the sort."

"But she didn't," Vee whispered.

"She wished for a child." Zadkiel laughed, as if the disbelief from Evelyn's decision still rattled him. "All of existence at her fingertips, power a demon could never dream of having, and she wished to raise a mortal child."

Vee squeezed the archangel's hand back, sure that there was nothing to say in this moment.

"Some part of me, an echo of my former glory, had anticipated a selfish request. I had been ready to smite her, to rend her existence from the cosmos before delighting that my faith in Heaven had proven true in the end. In the face of her request, of her desire to simply give life to a single, innocent mortal, my faith crumbled. I lost all sense of who I was and what I wanted to be, and in that darkness, I finally saw Evelyn. I saw who she truly was, what she was running from, and who she was fighting to become. She deserved respect, to have her Miracle granted, and I swore to her I would do so. I would give her a mortal child."