The Ancients and the Angels: Celestials

by M.C. O'Neill

  ***

  “…as we learn from an inside source that our saviors are not who, or rather, what they claim to be. According to their agent known as Cadreth, whom you may know as Prime Warden Mitlan’s personal assistant, these alleged visitors from the heavens are, in fact, elements from the Nine Hells themselves! Cadreth reports of their terrible plan to deliver the entirety of elfdom into its very bowels. Although there have been growing numbers of people in the past decades who doubt even the existence of the hells, we have Lord Cadreth today with us to elucidate the viewing public and to verify this report. Greetings, Lord Cadreth…”

  Sammian glared at the huge screen on the wall of the Mitlan’s gaming room and shot up from the comfortable sofa in a state of cold fear. An even colder presence bored into the report from behind her. She did not need to turn around to sense that Lucifer was livid. It was to be a long and terrible afternoon, she supposed.

  The peri closed her eyes to wait for a scream, a howl, or a tantrum. Perhaps her new master would break or throw something across the room. Perhaps the devil would even do her bodily harm in order to release the tension upon someone who just so happened to be there.

  “Sammian, my love,” he called to her with the elfmaid’s voice in a calm tone that rather surprised her. She figured his anger was going to be a slow smolder over this travesty. In the back of her mind, she was searching for ways to be out of his presence as soon as was possible. “Let me see your face.”

  She couldn’t hide her fear and anguish. Under normal circumstances, as an erelim, she was amazing at employing a good poker face, but she never had to investigate the Morning Star himself. So much power and force bled from his every pore, even while in the form of a young co-ed.

  Complying with his directive, Sammian felt the earthly time slow down even more than it already had for her as she was not eager to begin this confrontation. The dark master was such a paranoid entity, and she feared that he was going to blame her for being in compact with Cadreth or any other demon with rebellion on their minds.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Do you see why I never wanted it to be this way?” he simmered. The look on Minn’dre’s face was twisted into a countenance that the elfmaid would not be able to muster under her own natural anatomy. The possession was agitating new muscles in her face and Sammian thought it looked so odd and alien. It was quite simple to see, Lucifer was mad.

  “Yes, my lord,” she moaned again in reaction. There really was nothing else that could be said to him at that point.

  “In battle, a direct attack is so foolish as it creates what is known as attrition. Now that our identities are unveiled, many of us will be destroyed as we must forcefully gather the stinking elves by hand.” Minn’dre walked over to a cabinet of Centeo’s and swung yet another one of his vases to the ground in a million pieces with nary a thought. It had become a common, angry quirk of his.

  Regaining composure, he cracked Minn’dre’s neck from the tension. “The old saying states that it is better to walk to the pasture and herd all the cows than run down there and catch only one. This, my dear Sammian, is what we are now forced to do. This is all Cadreth’s fault. Stolas was an idiot for assigning his lustful kind to an adolescent with already-raging hormones as it is. He should have deployed a female tutor. Ah, that demon is irresistible to begin with! I really don’t know if our old prince was trying to amuse himself with that or play a joke on me. Either way, plans must change for the worse.”

  The peri braved a suggestion and regretted it once the words flowed out of her mouth. “Would it be better for us to terminate this operation?”

  Minn’dre’s mouth opened wider than her jaws mortally allowed in a hellish howl the very instant Sammian offered her wisdom. “Never! This could be our only chance in eons to scoop these things away from the hands of …I can’t even say His Name right now. I hate Him so much!”

  A solid look of suspicion silenced the entire games’ room. Not even the soft breath of the climate control could be heard. Sammian wondered if her master had the power to stop time. “I see it all clearly now, Peri. You were sent to sabotage my plan all along.”

  “No, Lucifer, I lov…”

  “Yes, you, being the erelim scum that you are, were sent by that timeless Thing to torture me! He just wanted to wave these mortal dolts in my face like a piping-hot banquet before a beggar only to rip it away from my unholy mouth!” Lucifer’s eyes overtook any last sentience in Minn’dre’s brain as the blue irises rolled back into it.

  “Master Lucifer! I…”

  “SHUT YOUR FOUL HOLE!” the wide-open mortal mouth was no longer moving. Lucifer’s words screamed directly into the mind of the fallen hopeful. Pain from the psychic decibels stabbed at her very core. “I assure you, I will at least come away from this rotten joke with your head forever rammed within the rear-end of a behemoth!”

  Lucifer only had the strength of an elven maiden in that form, Sammian sized with haste. She knew that there would be no convincing the dark lord that she was no longer amongst the choirs of his Adversary. Paranoia ruled his very core and that decision was never going to change. The peri had to think fast.

  In the soft dimness of the games’ room that day, Sammian shot Minn’dre’s face with a quick fist. The maiden’s nose exploded even though the fallen angel tried to pull her punch. She knew it had to be done to be away from Lucifer’s infernal gaze.

  So many woes ran through her as she navigated the swirling corridors of the Mitlan mansion. Minn’dre’s broken body could not hope to catch up to her flight. Yes, Lucifer was right, the peri decided. The game was not over, but it was most certain to be for her.

  The only two options left, she supposed, were to somehow banish herself to Earth or face judgment before the Archangel Michael. The former choice would mean an endless and boring existence on the lam whilst the latter would more likely than not slingshot her right into Lucifer’s maw. Such a decision would have to wait for calmer waters.

  Sammian’s hit was shattering, thought the devil. He hated skulking around the earth in elven form, but that was what had to be done to route any backstabbers. All in all, he figured it was a wise choice despite the bloody consequences.

  As he made his way deeper down into the innards of the mansion, he drooled blood from Minn’dre’s wound without care. Lolling with feline laziness next to an ornamental suit of feathered Xochian armor from ages past sat an albino leopard. The perfect animal for a perfect agent, he thought.

  It was of great fortune; Lord Mitlan and his concubine were off at the Circle of Finance that day. The death of his daughter’s pet cat could have sparked some deep concern within that dysfunctional family, and that would only make the summoning all the more problematic. In such an event, Lucifer would have, of course, slaughtered them all as well.