by M.C. O'Neill
***
A glowing, blue map filled the main chamber deep down in the center of the pyramid. A perfect representation of her world spun in slow rotation above a bright pool before them. Gabriel conducted the plan as the other angelics stood rapt within his authority. Quen’die curled on a large, comfortable pillow at the outer ring of the circular quarters. She figured it was best to keep her mouth shut and her pointed ears open.
“Commanders of the Ninth Choir, I gather you for this counterassault to rid our Creator’s hosts of this infernal trespass upon elfdom!” the archangel bellowed. Quen’die almost rolled her eyes at his dramatics, but perhaps that was just the way things were done here, she shrugged.
As the globe spun into position, Atlantis was featured front and center. “Commander Uriel, you have the grand undertaking of supervising the Atlantean continent. It is smaller in size than many, but a vital control hub for elven society. Gather their mortal forces to strike from Corosa City and work your way north to Caidhul.”
Following Gabriel’s gestures, the angel nodded with a curt bow and turned his gentle, tanned face toward Quen’die. “And this is the home of the Chosen One, yes?”
“It is,” Uriel’s commander confirmed. The maiden supposed this one looked much like her Mavriel, except he possessed two more wings than the deva.
Spinning with a slight turn to the east, the familiar shape of Tam’laa’s native home of Gonduanna was featured for all to see on the orbital surface. “Isais, you are in charge of the Gonduanna operations. This will be a deadly fight, as their kingdoms are tightly populated, yet very rich and advanced. You shall begin at the province of Lux and attack southbound to the province of Bot’saa. I must inform you that your fallen brother Oriax is in charge of their infernal forces. I trust you are prepared to battle him.”
With elegant calm, Isais drew a slow, crooked smile across her dark, beautiful face. “That will not be a problem, Commander Gabriel.” Quen’die was rather jealous of her style and found it to be almost like Xochian high fashion, except her garb was spun from golden metals that she couldn’t identify. The maiden supposed that Venn’lith would drool in envy as well at that one’s attire.
Eastward, the globe turned to the Kingdoms of Kumari and Kamden. “Commander Ramiel,” Gabriel continued. “I need for you to oversee Kamden at Nazz province. Continue your armies eastbound and link with Commanders Indra and Soma who shall begin their own campaign from Kosa’laa province in Kumari. Is that understood?”
The triad of the heavenly affirmed Gabriel’s orders in perfect, gentle unison. These three were quite unlike Mavriel, and Quen’die couldn’t help but ogle at their strange forms. Indra was a shocking deep red in color, as if he was wearing paint, but upon closer inspection, it was indeed angelflesh. Soma’s yellow hue was as rich as her crimson counterpart and the angelic’s style was sparse, yet regal at the same time.
Further northeast, the globe centered upon Tel’lemuria. “Commander Amatarasu, you are to fight your way westward beginning in the Tel’lemurian province of Shamba’la. You shall end your campaign at the city of Xanadu. If Indra and Soma need assistance, provide it for them from their north.”
A beautiful four-winged angel smiled with mighty glee and clapped her hands with a thunderous bang. Before Quen’die’s eyes, a solid light enveloped her body like a cocoon. It was not quite as blinding as Heaven, but it still hurt to stare. Her sparkling-white skin had turned to a deep cerulean. The jovial countenance on her face had deformed into a menacing anger which could not be washed away. The maiden thought she looked not much different from one of the demons when they were enraged. Emitting a dramatic force, she bellowed, “Transform! Blue Tara!”
With a heavy spin southward, the small continent of Mu presented itself to the crowd. “Commander Galeroo!” Gabriel boomed. “You are in charge of the dream elves’ counterassault. You will begin at Banban Province. There is only one ark there, but the mortal population is small and their technology is low. This may prove to be a difficult fight for your forces and they will require a heavy morale boost. The demonic master is our former, unfortunate shedu Bunyip. Lucifer has made a mockery of him as he is now a behemoth with formidable cunning and intelligence. Keep your forces close and solid with that one.”
“Yes, Gabriel,” a dark angel with curly, black hair confirmed the dire orders. Of the heavenly coterie, this angel was the least best-dressed, but throughout his near-obsidian skin ran strange pearly shapes that never settled on a form in their glowing animation. Quen’die felt a wave of calm in that one despite his somewhat grotesque markings.
“Kukulkan!” Gabriel bellowed as the globe spun with wild speed eastward. “This is the continent of Xo’chi. Asmodai rules the infernals here. Begin at Tyll’aan Province and force your way to the Avalonian border. This demon is particularly dangerous and the elves there may not all be copacetic with working together. You will need to employ special interpersonal relations with their lot.”
“It is so, Commander Gabriel,” the lavish, feathered angel nodded. The geometry of his war dress and his brilliant frock reminded Quen’die of ancient Tel’lemurian battle lords, yet this angelic’s plumage was just as alien as the terrible beasts destroying her home. The similarity made the maiden a touch nervous.
“Commander Moroni,” Gabriel called as the globe tilted north. “This is Avalon. You will begin at the city of Redwell and work your way up to the Vrillian tundra. There, you will defeat the demon Iktomi and his idiot lapdog Wendigo who command their forces from a location the natives refer to as ‘Devil’s Tower.’ Like Mu, these lands are sparsely populated and of a more rustic technology, but the people are close-knit and enjoy their solidarity. Use this to your advantage.”
“Y-yes, Commander Gabriel,” the golden-haired angel agreed with a soft bow. Almost everything about Moroni was golden from his head to his toes. The color belied his modest robes, as if he tried to offset his naturally-luscious coloration. Upon closer inspection, Quen’die wondered if the angel was new at his position, as he seemed much more humble, almost nervous in his ways than were the rest of his choir.
“I shall personally begin assault at the southern Thuless’in province of Rom’yna and meet with Moroni at my portion of the Vril,” Gabriel boasted.
The globe began to spin with slow ease on its own west-to-east course as Gabriel stood before the throng. “Before we depart, let us erect our own wards to secure this ark from infernal forces. They will be sure to shun it. Repeat this process with each ark you liberate.
“The people of this world need our assistance. We shall educate them and steel them with iron and knowledge. Intervene as much as they need, but our focus for them is in fishing poles and not fish. They shall help themselves as they have ever since our Creator had blessed them with their own life. Without any more pauses, let us begin this operation and begin it with haste!”
“Let it be so!”
