All I'd hoped to gain in Hosanna--fame, influence, a life of leisure--finally became mine. My music encouraged the citizens to praise the Archangels and to seek the new promise of immortality in the Sanctum. Crowds flocked to hear me play, and demand for my work soared to the heights I'd always longed for. Recordings and concerts ruled my days. My nights, however, led me in somber reflection to the sea.

Weeks after Annabel's passing, I still wasn't convinced she was alive. Parts of her were the same, but others seemed only simulations of her former vivacious self. Once in a while, she'd say something alluring in conversation or laugh in such a contagious, familiar way that my faith in her was renewed. Regardless, I couldn't give up on her. Somewhere, somehow, I'd find what remained of her.

Every evening, when the odes of sunset fell to silence, I returned to the cove of the shattered Prodigal Star. This was where Annabel and I had shared the most joy and had been the most free. I hoped to encourage her genuine side by coming here each night and playing music with her. She loved it, and danced and recited as she had before.

On a clear night, while the stars winked in time to the pluck of my harp strings, Annabel whirled in misted light across the data streams.

"I never dreamed to be so happy," she said. "Someday, when you cross over to the Sanctum, we'll know endless joy."

I tested her with a contrary question. "If I don't choose to enter the Sanctum, will you still love me?"

Her laughter chimed through my mind. "Of course. But why wouldn't want to spend forever with me in this perfect world?"

It sounded like her words, like something she'd tease me about. I took it a step further. "If I enter the Sanctum, we'll never know the pleasures of this cove again. I won't be able to collect pieces of the Star for you anymore. And I know how much you love them."

"Oh. That's true." Her lips pursed in a glimmering pout. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go and find some for me, silly!"

Bright shards washed ashore, as always, glinting upon the sand. I gathered a few and clutched them in my fingers.

"I wonder why this angelic metal is always so cold," I said. "Even when I hold these for a long while, they're like bits of ice, never warming at my touch. The wings on this crown are the same."

"It's a riddle. I also wonder how the Seraphim brought me here, into the shining realms. Maybe we can find the answer together." Her words fragmented as if many versions of her spoke at once. A small, quiet undertone echoed beneath it all. "I'm still here. I'm not lost."

The pieces of the Prodigal Star hummed, and glowed searing hot in my hand. I gasped and dropped them.

"Tristan, if you hear me, I'm trapped in this nightmare. The angels have covered me with many layers of nonsense, to try and program me into what they want. I want to come back to you. While here in the Sanctum, I've searched through the Archives, and found what might be a way. If my body is still whole, perhaps...wait. Oh no, the angels are listening. Help me." Her voice died, and my link to her was severed.

"Annabel!" I shouted over the desperate crash of the water. "Keep fighting them. I'll save you." I fell to my hands and knees, scrambling to retrieve the metallic pieces I'd dropped. "Talk to me, if you're still there. Please." I collected more shards and squeezed them until the sharp edges pierced my skin. "These pieces cleared a channel to the real you. I heard you just now. You're alive, I knew it all along."

Frantic, I filled my pockets with the metal fragments. This had to be the answer. When I couldn't carry any more, I ran up the hill to the nearby cemetery and entered the Lee family sepulcher.

The circular chamber within glowed beneath undying gas lamps. Decorative tiles meandered about the magnificent coffin in the center. Framed between steel columns, a glass case preserved her in an ingenious climate-controlled haven. Pastor Lee must have spent a fortune to commission it.

Her body still knelt in the pose of forced devotion. Ice glittered along her skin and hair, streaks of blood tears tainting her otherwise peaceful expression. Frozen in perfect condition, her body must still be whole. Could there be a way to reverse the transformation, and restore her to physical life? I wanted to believe it was possible. Grasping a fistful of the shards, I paced around her.

"Speak to me." The metal cut into my palms until tiny drops of blood flecked my footsteps. Silence mocked me. After hours of trying to contact her, I flung the shards away and sank to the floor. I laid my head against her coffin. My crown clinked against the frosty glass. I whispered her name, fingers sliding against the pane as if I could reach through it, and wake her from despair.

I stayed with her all night and all the next day. Hunger and fatigue gnawed at me, but I ignored their demands. As sunset fell again, I tried to summon her with song. I knelt beside her coffin with my harp and played a ballad we'd composed together.

To my relief, she returned. "Your sorrow has touched the angels. Don't grieve, my darling. We'll always be together. They've promised me this. Sing with me, like we did before."

The Seraphim still held her in thrall. How could I ever reach her with the angels looming over my attempts to reach her? I dragged myself to my feet. The shards must be the solution. It had worked before, and might again. Mad with determination, I laid the metal pieces around her tomb in meticulous patterns, trying to make sense of my broken thoughts. Trying to contact her soul once more.

My efforts came to nothing. Music was all I had left. I played one stanza, then collapsed. The sea outside drowned my hysteria in its endless ebb and flow. Surely the moon still beamed, and the stars still rose, but I didn't care.

Another day passed, and I still sojourned with the dead. The Seraphim and Annabel berated me through the Sanctum, but I wouldn't relent in my watch, waiting for any sign of my true love's return.

The tap of a cane against stone roused me to clouded awareness. Chairman Ness found me in a sordid heap by the tomb, my harp discarded near the wall.

"The Archangels contacted me within the Sanctum," he said. "They believe you'll listen to me."

I pushed myself upright with a groan. "How thoughtful of them."

He placed a hand on my shoulder. "They want you to return home, and resume your duties as the Bearer of Beatific Song."

I sputtered in derision. "Of course. Must ensure the devotees remain obedient. Isn't it a wonderful job? Leave me. Time, days, nights...meaningless."

"You aren't well. Come, Mr. Herald, I'll help you." He tried to lift me to my feet.

I shoved him away. "I said, leave me!"

He threw up his hands. "If this is your wish, so be it. But I have something else to tell you."

"Nothing will change my mind."

"An unknown vessel has surfaced offshore. It drifts at a distance, but the Seraphim are uneasy. The angels of war circle the harbor, and perch in surveillance atop the Temple spires."

I laughed. "That's wonderful. Do they fear the Devils? Or is it just to keep us all fearful beneath their mighty wings? Let the Devils come. Only they can conquer the Seraphim. Let them destroy this land of spineless slavery. I'll dedicate my latest song to the great unknown, the destroyer of purpose, the cosmic leveler which reduces all to dust."

The Chairman donned his hat and shuffled to the door. "Believe what you will, young man. Like you, I gave up long ago. We do what we must, regardless of the grim truth binding us. I bid you adieu."

Annabel gasped in the Sanctum. "The Devils are invading? Zadkiel have mercy. Let's pray to the blessed guardians for salvation."

Clang. The walls of the tomb shook, plaster and stone crumbling. A dissonant bell pealed outside, loud as the angelic trumpets.

Clang. Again, the ground shook from the din. Tiny fractures fanned across the coffin glass, cold air misting out. Though weak and delirious, I crawled outside.

Winds slashed across my face, whipping my hair. The tomb overlooked the harbor. I staggered to the edge of the cliffs and stared across the churning waves below. Dawn scorched the eastern sky to infernal red.

Clang. The bell pounded against my ears.

Trumpets answered in the distance, a challenge from the angels.

In the wan morning light, enormous shapes emerged from the depths. The mists parted, and I beheld the marauders. Oblong vessels rolled ashore, bolts and rivets squealing. Engines rumbled, seaweed and marine filth dangling from immense hydraulic appendages. Bands of sickly green luminescence glowed along their undulating brass and copper hulls.

The bell clamored again, and I saw a tall creature standing on one of the surfacing vehicles. A round helmet with dozens of glass-paned vision ports covered its head, hoses and compressors writhing along its torso. It wore an armored diving suit and smashed a hammer against a monstrous bell. Pointing to Hosanna, the Devil flexed the three pairs of wing-like fins on its shoulders toward the sunrise.

The amphibious onslaught advanced. Mechanical tentacles thrashed among the fray, the points of tridents and harpoons gleaming in thickly gloved hands. The Devils were much like the Seraphim. Perhaps they were long-lost cousins, come to wreck their wayward kin. Destroyers, who might also bring deliverance. Tears and sea spray stung my eyes, but I laughed among the crags.

~**O**~

A novel-length sequel to this story is in the works :) Titled "Rise Of The Devils: The Restoration Of Annabel Lee", the story of the war between the Seraphim and the Devils Under The Sea has begun. Until then, blessings of the Guardians be with you, dear reader!