The ways in which to invoke, or bring upon the angelic strength and protection one would need against the evils of man, could be sought in many rituals. I needed now to reach deep beyond the world of grimoires, dark arts, and demon evocations. Dantalion's powers of protection would involve a higher power, a ritual of invocation that would call on him, allowing him to take on human form.
I don't know why I remained here in the Courtyard waiting for him, trying to clear my broken thoughts from my memory, but it was intuitive that I stayed. The Courtyard was now a temple, of sorts, a place of neutral ground, where both angels and demons could tread. The stone walls set the borders that were the sky, and my prayers became constant from the moment he ascended to the third heaven.
I continued throughout the day with the invocation of the holy guardian angel Dantalion, beneath the wisteria covering the altar. There was no time to gather candles or incense, so the pine branches and roses I collected from outside the borders became the offering. I carefully arranged them about the base of the altar, lighting a match to ignite them at sunset and again, into the night. The scent of pine and roses filtered through the air. My clothing that last touched him before his ascension into heaven, was, by my power, the bond between us. His name and angelic rank I scratched into the jagged stone, along with my own name, representing our new bond as guardian angel and mortal soul.
The Courtyard was empty, not a breath of wind. Pitch began clouding the air, a deafening sound piercing the quiet stillness. My heart began pounding, as I collapsed to the ground. From the corner of my eye, streaks of lightening crossed the sky, crimson and indigo flames burning in the distance. Alone, fear washed over my body as blood poured down the walls of the Courtyard of the Undead.