I scream without a sound

Date | 5th of February 2022
Time | After 8pm
Weather | It drizzling,
Surroundings | There isn’t anyone nearby, out in the woods in a small opening between the towering tree’s

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The sound of small drops of rain hitting the tree’s branches, falling further down hitting small leaves on the bushes growing around on the moss-covered ground. It was almost deafening in its own way; birds were slowly on their way back. But the forest was quiet, almost eerily so. Letha had parked her car not far away from where she had entered the forest to walk a path that didn’t looked like it was used that often. Thoughts roaring through her mind, never giving her a break from what she was, what she had done. Who she was. To say that she was okay, would be an understatement. Nothing about what had happened the last couple of weeks were okay. So, she questioned herself, often. If she even deserved to still be alive with everything she had done. A soft chuckle left her, there would people out there that would say she didn’t. A name came to mind, Remiel. Now she could of course pray to Uriel, but he had loved her. Or the idea of what she had presented herself off. And even if she had fallen for him, and she in the end hadn’t pretended with the Archangel, it still wasn’t the same as what she had felt for Zadkiel, or Reginald for that matter. But that had been filled with confusion as she had been recovering from her memories that had been stolen from her. Then there had been Killian, an affair that should never had happened. God, even when her memory had been gone, she had done horrible things. Not as horrible as before of course, but could she stay true to the person she was now? Did she deserve a chance for happiness?

She let out a small breath, as she stopped at clearing. It was four days since the new moon, you could barely see the sliver behind the heavy grey skies that let drops of rain glide down her face. Letha closed her eyes, letting the feeling of hopelessness overcome her. Her lips slightly parted as tears started to mix with the droplets of rain. A soft exhale left her. “Remiel, I pray for you – please, guide when I need hope the most” she waited, eyes closed to see if he would actually come. If the angel wanted to face the murderer of his brother yet another time.

Prayers were a peculiar business, really. Sometimes a prayer would go straight to the archives and the many angels whom worked there, were tasked to sort through prayers by relevance and urgency and give to the respective angel who'd been the focus of said prayer. Other-times a prayer would come straight to him and echo in the edge of his consciousness; much similar to when one would notice a movement in the peripheral sight.
That little peripheral shimmer of voices slowly made its way to him as he sat on the wet forest ground, breathing in the fresh winter rain that surrounded them. The beginning of new life was slowly awakening, desperately wanting to push through the fog they had dwelled in for so long, but there would be yet another few weeks before the first flowers would have managed their way out of the soil. He was not alone though, and his golden, brown eyes were fixed on a middle-aged woman on the ground in front of him. Where the life of the forest was beginning, hers had sombrely ended. She had been walking her dog when the heart-attack had hit her seemingly out of nowhere. Remy had been there for the last moments, holding her hand and letting his light wash over her, talking about all the beautiful things in her beautiful life. Her two children who had both moved away from home to follow their dreams. Her late husband who had been the love of her life. Her job as a carer for the elderly. Her dog, she had taken in after the children moved out. So much beauty that she had forgotten and that he could remind her of in those precious and important moments before her soul would leave her body. She had led a remarkably sober life and she had brought so much happiness into the world and Remy's chest was filled with pride, as he had helped her pass onwards to the beginning of her after-life.

"Let's get you home then, Argos," he muttered into the dull echo of the drizzle, hiv voice blending into the comforting taps of water falling from the leaves. As he stood up, the golden retriever shook his fur to get the rain out. It looked back at its master laying still in the mossy ground before following the angel as he began the walk back to the village. The dog needed to alert someone as to where the lady had fallen.
The shimmery echo returned to him. Flickering like a broken record for a second before he reluctantly decided to call it forwards. Remiel, I pray for you. He physically winced, immediately recognising the voice. That she had the audacity! To use his name like that! A loud groan disturbed the peace in the forest as the angel looked to the sky. He should have ignorantly pushed the prayer away. Now he couldn't ignore it. It tickled in his fingers to go. Please, guide when I need hope the most.

Surprisingly, she was very close to them. Perhaps, he thought, that was exactly why the prayer had come to him directly. He shot a look to the dog who so eagerly followed him and sighed loudly, knowing the dog would have to come. It was the only way to have people find the woman in the forest before his warm aura would disappear from her and leave her vulnerable to animals. "Argos, you follow me, alright?" The large, majestic wings pushed out from his back, sweeping the drizzle away for a second before falling into place behind him. He gave a push and luckily the dog didn't seem frightened and joyfully followed beneath him, as he shot through the forest, heading for her. Letha.
About a hundred meters before the little clearing, he stopped and lowered himself to the ground, concealing his wings and melting into the light sway of the forest. The dog slowed down with him, a little uneasy about where they were heading when they finally stepped out from the towering trees. "You continue to surprise me," he noted softly, not having it in his heart to be bitter in front of her while she looked so vulnerable. Clearly she had been crying and the hopelessness that lay around her like a thick blanket made him uneasy and restless.

She remembered how Remiel had looked at her when she had opened the door to the Nelson’s old residence. An expression that could harbour so much anger, was almost astonishing when it came from an angel of God. Being wired to see the best in every of God creatures. Now, one could argue that the first witch hadn’t been one of his creations as it came from another dimension. If it hadn’t been for her, there wouldn’t be magic on this earth. There wouldn’t be witches, and there wouldn’t have been vampires. Thunderbirds, fairies wouldn’t have their magic. A lot of things would just not exist if Rebekah hadn’t stepped through that portal.
As she stood there waiting, she kept her face titled to the sky. Closed eyes, feeling the small droplets of rain almost caressing her tear-streaked cheeks.

The sound of wings could be heard, but the old vampire felt the aura of the archangel long before his feet hit the ground. What surprised her more than the fact that he actually had shown, was the fact when she opened her eyes titling her head forward, she saw a dog. She wanted to smile when he told her that she continued to surprise him. But even the strength needed to pull up the sides of her lips felt like more energy that she had left. Trying everyday she went to work. Pretending that she was fine when everything was crumbling in her mind. Depression folding its claws around her soul tearing it down making it almost next to impossible to believe there would ever be a way out. Even when Oscar tried or had tried to convince her that she wasn’t Revna or Ilene anymore. A lump had formed on her throat, and she realised that she had just stared at him. Pressing it down with a swallow she parted her lips. “I got all of my memories back” she quaked, clearing her throat as she took in an unneeded breath of air. “And now I’m questioning my entire existing” she said with a soft voice, it would be easy to just lay it all out for him. Her fears, her needs. But that wasn’t why she was here. “Do I deserve forgiveness, and do I deserve to forgive myself, even if the woman I once was, is not who I am anymore?” blunt, concrete. But she needed to get it off her chest before she dared to beg for a life she might not even deserve.

I got all of my memories back.
His eyebrows furrowed.
It was a very particular mix of sadness, anger and confusion that Remy felt in the core of his stomach every time his eyes found her. This vampire who he had witness causing an incredible amount of unspoken violence in the world was, in his books at least, every bit of a horrible person as the likes of Rebekah Sinclair; and yet, he knew inside of him, that it wasn’t true. It was just his feelings being unreasonable because of the trauma she had caused him. He had never found it in his heart to forgive her - especially not for the terrible day where she, cold blooded and evil, had murdered Zadkiel. Eden had told him to forgive her; of course she had. That was who she was even before she had merged with the angel of forgiveness.
Some things had changed though, since the last time he had seen her. He could feel the loss of hope inside her so heavily that his anger had vanished the second he had been within vicinity of her.
He had changed too, he knew, after everything. After Samael. After Eden. He had changed a lot. Or, he thought, perhaps he had unchanged. Getting rid of all of the darkness within him had taken many months and had required a full step back from a lot of things. He had spent a lot of time in the Archives. He had actively started seeking the people he was supposed to help through to the other side. He had also spent a lot of time with Maeve Poe, who somehow had managed to induce a sort of content calmness in his heart. He found himself growing with her, past the darkness and past the trauma. And lastly he had spent a lot of time in nature; appreciating the little wonders of the world again. So just perhaps, perhaps a little of the hardened pessimism in him had softened slightly. Looking at her, he concluded that it certainly had. A lot of the hatred he had felt for her had turned to sadness, and though he couldn’t forget and he couldn’t forgive, he could empathise with the emotions she surrounded herself with and felt the sadness when she spoke.

Remy looked down at the Golden Retriever who had placed itself next to his left leg, looking between him and the vampire with perked ears trying to make sense of it all. It felt her sadness, he knew, and so he gently nudged it behind its ear, urging the dog to go forwards with him, as he approached Ilene. Letha? Revna?
He nodded in understanding. She got her memories back. “I’m sorry,” he admitted with an apologetic smile. “That’s a whole lot of years to live in such short time.”
Confusing would be an understatement, he knew. Not only years but personalities as she had changed and lived many lives. With great caution and without getting too close now that she had admitted to remembering her 9000 years, Remy tilted his head and asked what he really wanted to know. “Do you trust yourself with that?” He asked. Even if the woman I once was isn’t who I am anymore. it was important to know if she was sincere in the belief that she was a different person now. With that belief could grow trust and with that trust could grow understanding and then perhaps, one day, forgiveness.

Her eyes fell towards the dog standing beside Remy once again. That was when she knew that she was still the woman she had come to know over the last eighty years. The years where she had created herself anew. Where she had found a hunter, that despite his training had wanted to kill her. A hunter that she now knew to be the father of a son she had changed from human to vampire. A man that was now in her debt because she had given him a chance to stay with his mother, when he had been afraid of dying. Something she had done at the time, only as a selfish act. But why did she know that she was still her, by looking at the golden dog? Because she didn’t feel the urge to kill it. She didn’t want to watch the life of the golden-brown eyes disappear. She didn’t feel the need to make sure that this innocent creature would no longer exist in this world. What a horrible thought she had once had, and now she had to deal with the knowledge of knowing what the old her would have done. Even if Oscar had done such a good job at trying to convince her that she was Letha, that she was deserving of love and living her life as who she was now. It might prove to hard a challenge, but then, what was waiting for her after death? She couldn’t see an outcome where it would end with her stepping through the gates to the gardens of Eden and then feel her soul be reborn. No, she was destined for the seven levels of hell. For a constant torment and punishment for what she had done. Was that the reason why she wanted to make this life end? So, she could get the punishment that no one seemed willing to give her.
She looked back at Remiel, noticing how she had been starring at the dog. Did she trust herself? Her tongue glided slowly over her lips, and this time a small smile curled over her lips. Even if it was still filled with sadness. “I know I’ve changed, and I know that I will fight with every fibre of my body to stay the woman that I’ve become today” she felt the need to fill her lungs with air, almost as an excuse to give herself time to think, before she kept answering. “Do I trust that there will not come a time where I will be tempted to just, become what I once was? Ruthless, without a care and without a loving nature” she looked down at the dog, looking into its brown eyes, she squatted down and beckoned the dog to come closer to her. “Yes” she whispered, almost as she was making a promise to the animal rather than to the angel whose brother she had killed.

Remy’s face softened up. His angelic features were much more prevalent when his face was relaxed like this; softly curved, bright and calm eyes and relaxed shoulders, every ounce of his body signalling peace, as he watched her looking down at the dog.
Animals were utterly magnificent, and he couldn’t help but believe there was a higher power that had blessed him with luck tonight, the way it all seemed to work to the advantage of hope. A dog like this was perfect. Innocent and loyal and somehow people, species alike, almost always reacted positively. Much like herself, he saw this as a good sign; the way she regarded the dog a little sadly. It was emotional and thus filled with empathy. A feeling he had not known her to feel before.
How strange it was to look at someone you knew, yet seeing someone completely different. As he regarded her, she suddenly lifted her gaze onto him, and he met her sadness with softness, giving her an encouraging nod.

I know I’ve changed. He knew that too. Quite drastically so. He wondered then, how her life would be weighed in the Underworld. She had the same soul after all, and would possibly be judged for all of her lives; good and bad alike, forming a sort of unity. They’d not have an easy job on their hands, he knew, when finding her path to the after life. The woman in the forest would be easy, he knew, and he was proud knowing she would likely make it to the Gardens of Eden.
Remy didn’t interrupt her as she spoke, but listened carefully to her words as she debated with herself, throwing a question out into the air before squatting down. He knew he couldn’t help her, once again. Just like the first time they had met at Eden’s home, she was on her own in her thoughts.
He looked at the dog. It’s ears had perked up curiously as she raised her arms towards it, and sent a short look up at Remy, possibly making sure that the angel still looked calm to make sure the new lady wasn’t a threat, before deciding that he liked meeting new people, and with his wagging tail wandered through the drizzle to reach the vampire.
In spite of all of Remy’s thoughts of forgiveness and Letha having changed, a short wave of fear made it to him, as he caught himself wondering if she was going to hurt the dog, and he automatically took a step forward, before his thoughts managed to rationalise. It was the whispering confirmation he needed to lower his shoulders again and clear his mind of the mistrust he felt.
“Letha,” he managed to reply, softly underlining her new name; his voice a little raspy at the edges. “Why have you called on me?” Perhaps uncharacteristically blunt for the old angel, but also genuinely the only help he could give her as a push to whatever confidence she needed to build. What did she need him for? Redemption? “You have made a good life for yourself here, have you not?”
Sadly he had not kept taps on her much. Many things had happened since he saw her last, and Remy had spent most of his time healing himself and learning how to live again and had for once not made sure to keep up with other people’s lives. Least so, hers. He drew in a breath and nodded to himself before deciding to move closer to her, entering the clearing and allowing the droplets of rain to let his blond curls stick to his forehead. “It’s not up to me to tell you if you deserve forgiveness or not,” he told her with a faint, apologetic smile. “It’s not really about deserving it in the end. It’s all up to yourself and the people you’ve touched through your life, don’t you think? You can’t control forgiveness after all.”

The cold and wet snout of the dog pressed gently against her hand. Before it eagerly let is rugged tongue glide over the back of her hand. Over her knuckles and gave her such tender kisses, that it was clear that it understood the predicament that she found herself in.
For all the hurt and hardships that was going through her mind. How anger, hurt and sadness filled her heart and penetrated her thoughts putting her in a constant gloom. It was hard not to let her lips curl up into a soft expression, as she saw how the dog sat down. Almost as a beckon call to make her ruffle right under its ear.
Letha’s slender fingers formed its way into the soft fur. Feeling how it was slightly damp from the rain that had fallen for quite a while now.
Her names were spoken, and she looked up at the angel that had let her name breach his lips. Funny how he still used that name. Some would very hard heartedly continue to referrer to her old name. Revna. The Raven. Omen of death and the child of darkness. A guard dog, look upon nothing more than a tool for a village to use against the plague that had hit them. She pitted them now. Knowing what she did, she understood the fear that had gone through them. That kind of fear that made humans do whatever would bring them just a sliver of hope.
Why had she called on him? An understandable question, a valid one even. For a moment she had no idea what to answer him. Was she here in the hopes of redemption? No, she didn’t think she deserve that. But it was something else. She knew that, but it didn’t make it easier to let the words leave her. Because somewhere deep down, she wasn’t even sure that she could bear if he did forgive her. What a peculiar thing to think. What would that make her, always wandering in darkness, hoping that people would leave her behind in her own pain. So, she could stay there. Almost as if it was a blanket of self-loathing that she craved and needed to make sure that she could go through life. Didn’t she deserve a good life, now that she had found that she wasn’t going to change, even now that she had gotten all her memories back.
Had she made a good life for herself? She had, but she had also left some of it behind, because she knew that her past would come and haunt her.
“You are right” she gave the dog a last ruffle before she got up feeling a short ache in her knees from being bend like that. “Do you know of the steps a former alcoholic need to go through after he or she joins a support group?” her question was leading and she didn’t give him the time to answer “number five is; Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs. And number nine is; Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.” She recited them, almost as if they were a verse from the bible, then she looked up at him. “I’m sorry for the hurt that I put on you, I’m not here to ask your forgiveness or grant me salvation, but rather to let myself see the things I’ve done in a life I cannot recognise myself in anymore, and apologise for it” she said, giving him a small smile.