The Sound of Angels

"Domine, non sum digne... "

In the silent darkness of the church, Father Edward lay prostrate on the cold floor and prayed to his God. He often said his devotions here this time of day, when the mass had been sung and the folk of Camelot were away doing their daily business. Then Edward would steal a few hours to come here and lay facedown on the floor before the altar, and meditate or just pray. It was his time, a time when he felt closest to God.

Somewhere behind him, in the darkest recesses of the great church, an angel began to sing.

It was singing in a voice that left Edward breathless, sure that he had died and gone to Heaven. It was sweet and pure and full of light and innocence, and all he could do was lie there and let his spirit soar on the wings of song that filled the church.

Then, as suddenly as it began, it stopped, and Edward felt his cheek pressed firmly against a floor moist with his tears, and knew he still lived. He pushed himself to his feet, and looked around. No flight of angels greeted his eager eyes, only shadows lit here and there by colored streams of light through stained glass windows.

He caught sight of a figure in the far right rear corner of the church, barely visible in a pool of golden light from a window. He hurried towards it as the singer once more raised his voice.

Twice the priest stopped in his tracks, overwhelmed by the sheer simplicity of the song, and twice he forced himself to resume his approach. All around the song echoed in the dark and filled the church with grace. He had to know: was this in truth an angel come to earth? And then at last he reached the pool of light, and came to an amazed halt. A child was singing there, but even so, a child like none Edward had ever seen before.

The boy looked about nine or ten, but was tall and fine boned, and his eyes were bright blue beneath a head of silver hair. He leaned his head back to sing the final note, and a brief glimpse of pointed ears told Edward all he needed to know of the mysterious singer: not angel at all, but elf.

"What are you doing here, boy, if boy you truly are?" Edward's voice grated roughly on his own ears after hearing the wonderous melody. "Your kind do not belong here."

The boy had the grace to at least look shamed. "I meant no harm, Father, truly. I ... I heard the singing the other day, and it--- well, I wanted to try it myself. The sound I mean. It's different in here. It's... it's magical!"

"Don't say such a thing! There is no magic in a church, only God's love. Your kind does not belong here anyway, as well you know!"

The boy tilted his head to the side. Bright blue eyes bore into Edward's with innocent curiosity. "My kind? Why not?"

"Elves have no souls. They are not the handiwork of God."

"Who says?" The boy's question took Edward by surprise. He didn't seem to be mocking the priest.

"The Church teaches that... "

"But how do they know? How do you KNOW?" Now his mouth was set in determination, waiting for an answer. "Seems to me no one knows for sure."

Edward felt himself growing angry. Who was this child to come into a church, defile it with his elven presence and then question the teachings of Holy Mother Church? He almost raised his hand to slap the boy, but a voice spoke quietly behind him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. His Da might be upset. And his mother... well... take my word for it. You do not want to hit this boy." A very tall elf with fair hair and a scarred face was standing behind Edward. He walked around him to stand next to the boy and now the priest was well and truly afraid, for he knew this tall elf. It was Ashevathallion, uncle to Ian Blackthorn, which, Edward now realized, meant this had to be Blackthorn's son.

The priest trembled at how close he had come to disaster as he murmured an apology through suddenly bone dry lips. Luckily neither seemed to have taken insult. Instead, the adult rubbed a hand through the silver hair of Shane Blackthorn and gently steered him towards the door. "Come, nephew. We are not wanted here."

The pair started up the aisle, and then stopped as the boy turned back to look at Edward. "Father, you said there was no magic, here, only God's love."

"Aye, His love encompasses all... " Edward's voice froze as the realization of what he said now clashed with his earlier words. But the elven child did not gloat. He merely nodded thoughtfully.

"Seems to me that is magical in itself, isn't it?" And then the pair turned and were lost in the shadows, leaving Edward to turn and make his own way slowly back to where he once more prostrated himself before the altar.

His thoughts turned the boy's questions over and over in his mind, and even as he began to once more pray, the sound of the boy's voice echoed in his soul, and touched his heart. His eyes. clouded over once more with tears as he began the prayer with new humility:

"Domine, non sum digne"
"Lord, I am not worthy."