Az

by A A Bavar

  “You shouldn’t have done that, brother.” Lucifer was emphatic, but his tone was low and cold, too matter-of-factly cold. It caused me to tense up, but I simply shrugged and turned to leave. I knew that by breaking his horn I had escalated our battles to a full blown war. “This time you went too far. I vow to you that, even if it takes an eternity, I will have your soul for this.” Lucifer stared as I walked away, then murmured with a grin, “And you will give it to me of your own accord.”

  FIFTEEN

  The days – for Man, it was more than a millennia to be exact – that followed Sodom and Gomorrah were quite uncharacteristic. Manipulation and always having the upper hand was what defined Lucifer, so I expected revenge to be his top priority. I anticipated him to jump out of every dark corner and unceremoniously deliver my punishment. In truth, I wanted him to react as I would and lash out in fury without a plan or scheme, and simply get it over with. But that’s not his way, and soon it became clear that he was going to wait things out, and like a snake in the grass, seek the opportune moment to strike. His threat to have my soul gnawed at me temporarily, but it was so ludicrous, so impossible, that I shrugged it off – a fatal mistake, since disregarding Lucifer is like a sheep walking in to a wolf’s den believing that they can coexist. The seed was planted, and it was just a matter of time, but I was arrogant and sure that I would never do the one thing that would deliver me to him. But never is a long time, and as my friend Dickens said, “Never say never.”

  All of this, however, suddenly became unimportant as Man, once again, managed to astound and bewilder me. How could he venerate and worship all sorts of idle Gods and imagery and then fail to see His true manifestation? It was a dark day when I descended on Golgotha ready to obliterate and destroy without mercy. The rocky hill where the crucifixion had taken place was barren and deserted, its caves resembling hollow eye sockets that made it look like a half buried skull looking down at that grotesque scene. A tenebrous image cast its shadow towards the east wall of the city of Jerusalem as people scurried past the Place of the Skull – the hill of death – to the city gate. This was a place for the violent and the dishonest, the assassin and the murderer, where they were dragged and punished beyond measure until I came and relieved them. And the scene was no different today, although it could not be any more wrong.

  Three men on crucifixes, their hands and feet nailed to the wood, suffered the scalding heat of the early afternoon sun. I saw Bran drift below me and circle the space above one of them, and I knew it must be the lowlife, Gestas. How dare they put my Lord brother beside a wretch like him? His taunts against Jesus, even as he hung there dying, rang in my ears. Did he really think that by goading my brother He would save him? But he paid for his insults with eternal silence and pain. Bran would take his tongue, and Lucifer would burn his soul forever while he screamed only for his mind to hear. At that moment, however, not even Bran had the heart to face my brother; but he would do his job soon enough.

  Jesus was the most tortured, His body mutilated by flagellation with a deep gash on His chest that bled profusely. A crown of thorns was placed around His head as humiliation, cutting deep into His flesh as blood ran down His face and through His eyes. He, however, was tranquil and serene showing no signs of anguish or grief. To the contrary, He was calm and dignified, with a demeanor that was anything but earthly.

  With what energy He had left, Jesus looked up to the clear skies and said, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

  My eyes burned with tears as I heard those words, and I fell through the sky in His direction. As I approached, the sadness that consumed me cast such a blanket of gloom across the bright sky that you could feel the void of life and happiness. Its inky darkness crawled like a plague from the foot of Golgotha to the city of Jerusalem, and the heavens rumbled with grief as erratic explosions lit the sky, and the angels’ tears rained down amidst the crack of each lightning.

  I landed with great force at the foot of the cross that held my brother, but couldn’t bring myself to look up. Bran landed on my shoulder and cawed. The ground was wet and rivulets of blood ran down the hill. I remained with my head bowed and my long hair and wings dripping as they loosely hung to the ground. The smell of burned soil and electrified air filled the blackness as the storm intensified and punished the ground around us with hail and lightning. I felt like a savage beast trapped in a cage, consumed with both fear and rage; wanting vengeance but knowing that there also had to be justice. At that instant, there was a flash of lightning followed by an earsplitting scream.

  “It is the Archangel of Darkness come to take us!” wailed Dismas, using the last of his energies before he passed out.

  I exhaled in disgust and slowly turned my head up and towards the offending creature, but a slight movement by Jesus caught my attention and I froze. Our eyes locked. The sight of my brother, so brutally abused and dishonored, made me gasp. Only once before, with Abel’s murder, had I felt this lost, but this time I couldn’t blame Lucifer. This time it was all on Man. I jumped from the ground and perched on top of Gestas’s cross. Bran hopped from my shoulder to my knee and onto the beam directly above his head. Gestas twisted his head up and repeatedly shrieked in terror, as if my being there made any difference to his end; or maybe he was just deathly afraid of crows. Either way, he was not penitent; just terrorized. His heart was infested and there was no redemption, and the screaming was very annoying. I pointed my finger at him and made the sign of a cross – another one for Man and the ages – and immediately time stopped. There was no movement or sound; everything earthly was in a void.

  “This one,” I said, and patted Gestas on the head, “will be a pleasure to give as a gift to Lucifer. The other? Well, lucky him to believe in you just when it matters.” I stopped and once again looked at Jesus, and although I was trying to be the archangel that my brother envisioned, the indignation and contempt that I felt was overwhelming. Still in my perched position, I stretched my arms in a wide and world embracing gesture and cried in a guttural whisper, “As for this! This heinous and deplorable act, the punishment will fit the crime. I’ll put the fear of me in every soul. Humanity will feel, then hear, and then see me come. Sodom and Gomorrah will be child’s play by the time I’m done with Man this time.”

  Jesus looked from me to Jerusalem and his eyes shimmered with tears. He knew me well and understood that my rage would not be curbed by mere persuasion; even by him. “Is this what Father wishes? To destroy humanity for my sake?”

  “He was too saddened to wish for anything, so I took charge. Somehow, I don’t think He would object to what I have in mind.” There was no doubt, I was fully committed to punishing humanity despite its implications. Lucifer had won this battle; he could have all the souls he wanted; again. “I love you, brother, but I don’t love mankind. And mankind is so unlike you.”

  Jesus cautiously moved his head to the side, looked to the heavens and said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do,” and then he turned to me and continued, “Into your hands I commit my passage.”

  I was totally bewildered. There was nothing more that I wanted at that moment but to unleash my fury on humanity and seek justice for my brother. But then, the wisdom of Jesus’s action became clear to me. He had in a single, selfless and uncompromising act absolved humanity of its sins and thwarted Lucifer. I had a lot to learn. For the first time in many days, I allowed myself a meek smile, there would be more than enough time in the future for retribution.

  SIXTEEN

  “When I walked into the Room of Candles today, I knew that it was a significant day. I can always tell when something momentous is about to happen, but I never imagined that today marked the end of me.” I looked down at the leaf with the letter M inscribed on it. “M,” I said, “also stands for the name Mary.” There was an involuntary gasp, and for the first time, I heard the robed figure react. But that was it, and silence immediately shrouded her once more.

  I decided that today’s
events could wait, I had to start from the beginning; with Mary. I looked at her and our eyes met, and in the dim light I felt her gaze. “My encounter with Mary was very unique – there’s no other way to describe it, and our paths became intertwined in the most unusual way.” I paused and looked down at my hands. They were shaking, and the fury that I had felt that morning surged again. Once more, I wanted to tear into and destroy everything in my path. I gritted my teeth and continued, “I had become a soul gathering machine with no compassion or love left in me for humanity. The lesson of selflessness and love that I had learned from Jesus had long been washed away by the plagues of war and destruction instigated by Man. What kept me going was the satisfaction I felt in opposing Lucifer – and of course, it didn’t hurt when I could visit a Vlad or a Hitler and unleash the fear of God in them.” I stopped and shook my head. Even to me that sounded insensitive and narcissistic, but it was who I had become.

  “I had lost my connection with the meaning of life – and the spiritual significance of life after death, what did that matter? Everything had become so overshadowed by death and the atrocities that caused death – and of course, with Lucifer as the permanent puppet master, all that I looked for was death.” I stopped and took a deep breath. “That’s when I met Mary for the first time. My soul was dead to humanity, but she gave me a present that showed me what I had closed my eyes to, and for nineteen years I was happy, truly happy. Until today.”

  I looked down at the darkened surface of the oak table and was suddenly somewhere else, looking down at another table covered with thousands and thousands of inscribed leaves. The room I was looking at was in absolute silence and lighted only by a single lamp placed on the table. The lamps on the walls were off, and by the look of it – the amount of dust and cobwebs, the room had been neglected for many years. I was sitting with my head bowed, elbows resting on the table and lost amidst the leaves, with my hands clasped together under my chin. Suddenly, there was a swish of air and a loud thud. Leaves and dust flew everywhere and it made the already half lit room even more gloomy.

  “I’ve been looking for you.” Michael loomed just inches from me. I didn’t move or look up, but instead stared down at his boots. They were cool, the way the black leather was etched with spiraling curves and lines. I wondered when he had ditched his sandals and finally entered the twenty-first century. But I guess if Moses could part the seas then Michael could also change.

  “Well, you found me. And it wasn’t as if I was hiding.” Without looking at him, I waved my arm and motioned around the room, and then continued, “This is where I spend most of my time. How hard were you looking? Anyway, what is it that you want?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? Look at all these souls waiting for a chance at redemption. You cannot ignore your duty.”

  “I haven’t ignored anything. They have other means. They can always pray to Father, and if they haven’t, well maybe they don’t deserve salvation. I’m on a break from humanity.”

  “You’re on a break? What the hell does that mean? That Lucifer wins? This is ludicrous, especially because it was he who warned you about being too rash with the oath that you took by Abel.” Michael was practically yelling, although I could tell that he was trying hard to control his temper. “Now, get up and take care of these souls before Lucifer does.”

  I’ve never responded well to orders, and it wasn’t going to be this time that I would. Michael slammed his clenched fist on the table. “I said, get up!”

  I slowly looked up at him and paused for a short moment before I replied. “As I said, I’m on a break. But it’s quite clear that you won’t let this go, even though you don’t understand or have the faintest idea what this is,” I said, and grabbed a handful of leaves and threw them up in front of him. “So, before you judge me and tell me of the oath I took on that god-forsaken day, make sure you can handle the burden.”

  “I’m not judging anyone, just reminding you of your responsibilities. And if it’s a burden, then it’s your cross to bear and no one else’s.”

  I nodded and stood up. Michael’s face was mere inches from mine. We stood there for a few seconds, but there really wasn’t anything else to say. He was mad, but what did I care? For me to get mad or feel anything at all, I would have to care, and I didn’t. I felt nothing, everything was a vacuum. Well, maybe that’s not entirely true, because I did want him to feel my pain – my cross, as he had put it. I pushed him aside and walked to the center of the room.

  “Offer these souls a chance to repent, you say?” I said, as I turned to face him once again. “I can do that, but I’m quite positive that you will not get the result you’re hoping for.” I took a deep breath and simultaneously moved my arms in an upward motion. The leaves that were scattered on the floor and strewn about the room started to tremble and then slide towards me. I stood there with my face turned to the ceiling and my arms held apart as intense blue sparks jumped form one hand to the other. It was all theatrics, since there was no celestial power to summon; I was the celestial force! But it looked cool and the outcome deserved it. The leaves started to swoosh in a circular path around me, and soon thousands of them were flying in the air like a tornado. I became engulfed and lost sight of Michael.

  “This is Man created in Father’s image; noble and virtuous,” I shouted, as blue rays of electricity connected themselves to the whirling tornado and the whole thing became a cloudy blue mass. Immediately, it shaped itself into a human form and kneeled in front of me in reverent supplication.

  “And now, mass redemption!” I pointed at the human figure and blasted it. The result was soul wrenching. A deafening mixture of screams, cries and shrieks filled the room – the pain, suffering and despair beyond measure. Michael covered his ears as tears rolled uncontrollably down his cheeks. The human figure fell to the floor and writhed from side to side as it broke apart and its pieces were consumed by fire – red fire. Suddenly, there was an explosion and then complete silence once again. The figure was gone, and with it all the souls. Michael was on his hands and knees, his body shaking as he tried to regain his composure. As I looked down at him, I felt a sting of guilt, but the knowledge that someone other than me had finally felt a fraction of the constant toil that I bore made it worthwhile. It reminded me a little of Dali, whose consciousness melted when he had a mere glimpse of his soul. But this was the Archangel Michael; he would recover in no time.

  “What happened?” he asked in a low tone as he got to his feet.

  “Nothing happened. Those souls were what they were and I simply put them on a bullet train to Gehenna. Now you know what it feels like to have the weight of humanity on your soul. I’ve been carrying it for thousands of years and I’m done.” I was about to leave when to my surprise I saw a lonely leaf drop on the table. It had a bluish aura and was as unblemished as before. Michael noticed my surprise and followed my gaze. I walked to the table and picked it up. Inscribed on it in gold was the name Mary. I wasn’t done after all, not just yet.

  SEVENTEEN

  Sometimes, I forget that when exceptional things happen, I should look over my shoulder and acknowledge Lucifer. Mary definitely fell into that category. The statement I had made was pretty damn solid, a definitive checkmate, and it would have freed me from my oath. I knew that Michael would explain things to Father, and any redemption that humanity wanted from that moment on they could ask for directly from Him. But now there was unfinished business, a deserving soul; a pure soul.

  It was an evening in the spring of 1995, and the wind had picked up in New York City. I left immediately to fetch Mary, leaving Michael standing there by the table dazed and bewildered. I felt an excitement that was alien to me, and as I walked the street towards her house, I was consumed by a turmoil of thoughts. Mary wasn’t a saint, prophet, or manifestation of God. She was Man created in the image of our Father. The same Man that was capable of tremendous love, compassion, and generosity, and yet, perpetuator of the greatest evil – to plunder, cheat and kill when lef
t to his own devices. Contrary to popular belief, Lucifer is not sitting on Man’s shoulder 24/7 tempting him; Man debases himself all on his own. And yet, Mary had survived the ultimate test and her soul had endured without being given the chance to repent or pray for salvation.

  I was lost in these thoughts when I felt a presence in front of me and looked up just in time to stop myself from crashing into an old woman. I must have looked threatening, since she looked at me with wide open eyes that were twice their usual size and gasped. Old people, distant and close to birth at the same time.

  “Not here for you this time either, Martha. When I am, you’ll know, because it will be dark, cold and lonely. But I will make sure you go in the books as some kind of saint.” Some people don’t ever meet me, but this was the second time for Martha. I wondered if she recognized me and walked around her to the path that led to the front door of a stylish Victorian house. I stood there and stared at the knocker. I could just go to Mary, but decided to knock. I wanted to see how she lived and who she was before facing her. The sound of the knocker was loud and hollow, but was immediately followed by the patter of small feet running to the door. The door opened and I was scrutinized by a pair of big, brown eyes looking up at me. The little girl standing in the doorframe was no more than five, but lost no time to start her interrogation.