The first one we approached was a recent cadet graduate named Private Typhon. He was a bookish but tough and pugnacious young cupid who had already proved himself on the battlefield by having dispatched two yetzers in hand-to-hand combat, earning him a bronze star for valor. He steered clear from the bars, brothels, and opium dens, and valued solitude over the debauched society of his fellow soldiers.
The other two candidates were soon-to-graduate young cupids, Cadets Troy and Ares; best friends and top mark students and athletes who were already sharing with one another their suspicions regarding the Academy, and even their doubts about the existence of Eros himself. Virgil dropped in on each one and felt them out. He invited them for a beer and softened them up. Then I came in, and together Virgil and I converted them to our cause.
Convincing the three young soldiers to join us wasn’t as hard as I had imagined. Once they learned that they would make up an elite team led by Commander Sett and Captains Volk and Abishai, that was good enough for them. Unlike other cupids, these youths had done their homework and knew well Captain Volk’s awesome accomplishments. They secretly admired the living legend and thought that those at the Academy who mocked and disparaged him were ignoramuses.
We didn’t go into much detail with the recruits because lacking the necessary adaequatio it would have been too much for them to comprehend. What was most important was that they vowed complete silence and secrecy. This assurance wasn’t too worrisome, however, because none of the seven newly enlisted members were going to be sticking around for very long. Once they were initiated into our yeshiva, there would be no going back.
We weren’t worried about their absences raising questions. Between Sett’s authority and Grace hacking into the database to give them fictional assignments, the missing presences of three young, reclusive cupids would raise no eyebrows. As for Abishai’s SWAT team, no one at the Academy cared a whit what they were up to anyway.
We told the initiates to pack a few essentials and then meet us at a deserted warehouse at 03:00 sharp. Because our yeshiva grounds were dimensionally hidden, the only way the newbies could get there was if Virgil or I brought them.
At the appointed place and time, Virgil and I took turns spinning out to our hidden yeshiva grounds with a cupid soldier holding on to us for dear life. It was an eye-popping, stomach-churning introduction to the new life that awaited them. When we set down our passengers at what would be home for them for the next week, the cupid angels were already notably impressed.
“Heck of a ride, Kohai!” Private Typhon slurred as he wobbled to regain his equilibrium.
I chuckled and replied that the real ride was ahead of him.
“Listen up,” Captain Volk barked to the eight soldiers standing in a line before us. “You are all here because you know that something is very wrong. You can’t name it or explain it, but for a long time now you have felt that you have been living a lie.”
He began a slow pace in front of the recruits.
“Over the course of the next five days you are going to hear the unspoken, see the unimaginable, and do the impossible. This and more will happen because until now you have been asleep. Soldiers, it is wake-up time.
“You all know who I am. Or you think you do. Behind me are Cadets Kohai and Virgil. They will be your instructors over the course of the next five days. You are to listen to every word they say, and do whatever it is they ask. Understood?”
“Take orders from cadets?” scoffed Lieutenant Ophion, Abishai’s SWAT team’s first in command; a bearded, brawny cupid with a jagged red battle scar under his right eye.
“That’s right, Lieutenant. From this day forward your rank means nothing here. Captain, lieutenant, sergeant, corporal, private, or cadet—it’s meaningless.”
“But they are just kids,” Ophion said.
“All right,” Volk said, “let’s get this over with right now. We don’t have time for egos. Lieutenant step forward, the rest of you back up.” The soldiers did as told. “Virgil!”
Virgil jogged up to the captain’s side. “Yes, Sir.”
“Lieutenant Ophion,” Volk said, “you’re a big, tough, battle-hardened warrior. Your reputation and medals are all well deserved. We chose you because not only are you a cupid of estimable prowess, but because your spiritual integrity matches your soldierly grit. Now, muster all you have and kick Virgil’s ass.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Kick his ass. Lay him out flat. Don’t hold back.”
The lieutenant chuckled as he considered Virgil. They were about the same size, but because of Virgil’s youthful good looks and calm, he was not nearly as imposing as the bearded and battle-scarred ex-commando.
“Listen, kid,” Ophion said, giving Virgil a fatherly smile. “Nothing personal, okay?”
“Understood, Sir,” Virgil said.
Ophion casually approached Virgil, and then feinting with his left, he swung at Virgil with a right hook. Virgil blocked the punch and delivered a lighting fast palm to the lieutenant’s solar plexus, blasting him fifteen feet through the air into the arms of Captain Abishai.
Ophion gasped for breath. Abishai stood him up and gave him a push forward. Bent in half trying to recover, the lieutenant roared and charged at Virgil in an attempt to tackle him. Virgil sidestepped and shoved Ophion to the ground.
His face red with rage and humiliation, the lieutenant scrambled to his feet and rushed at him again. Virgil caught Ophion by his uniform, dropped to the ground, and pitched the soldier over his head and onto his back.
Stunned, Ophion staggered back up and shook the stars from his eyes. He approached Virgil warily, and then gathering his strength and wits, he raised himself to his full measure and began to circle Virgil like a boxer. Virgil turned with him, calm and relaxed.
Seeing his opportunity, Ophion swung. Before his fist was halfway to its target, Virgil slammed a roundhouse kick into the side of Ophion’s head, knocking him out cold.
“The rest of you,” Volk shouted, “get him!”
“Huh?”
“You heard me, you badasses. Get the cadet. Knock the snot out of him!”
The remaining cupid soldiers, except for the grinning Captain Abishai, stormed Virgil at the same time. When they were within a few feet of him, Virgil vanished. The recruits collided and fell into a heap. As they untangled themselves, they exclaimed in mystification, “What the hell!”
Virgil whistled. “Over here!”
The soldiers charged at Virgil again. This time he went into turbo-twirl, and shot spinning fifty feet straight up. The cupids skidded to a halt, and heads craning, blinked in astonishment.
Virgil darted behind them, and retro-twirling, alighted back onto the ground.
“Okay,” Virgil said, “no more monkey business.” He beckoned to the group with his finger. “Bring it to me, fellas.”
The soldiers growled and pounced. Virgil absorbed their charges like an Aikido master, dispatching one after another with imperceptible speed and grace. Within seconds, all of the soldiers were groaning on the ground, massaging their shoulders, wrists, and elbows. Virgil stood over the strewn recruits, arms folded, untouched and fresh as a daisy.
The dazed cupids picked themselves up and limped back into line.
2
Confidence Course
“Okay,” Volk said. “Now that that’s out of the way, let’s begin.”
The captain resumed his pacing in front of the recruits. “You all are going to learn to fight like that, but you will not succeed until or unless you first understand who you are, what you are doing here, and Whom it is you serve.
“We will train your bodies, we will exercise your minds, but neither will get you far until you sort out your souls. Time is short. You have only five days to grasp the basics and shed your ignorance like a reptile does its skin. Here, regression is progression. To advance, you will go backwards. Learning will be unlearning. Doing, undoing. It begins right now.
“Listen up,�
�� he continued. “You are not cupids. You are not beholden to the Academy. And there is no Eros. You, my friends, are angels of the one true God. The sooner you understand this, the faster you will become what you were meant to be; what deep down you already know that you are.”
The soldiers turned to one another with looks of bewilderment and disbelief. They never heard such brazen blasphemy before.
Volk grinned. “You heard right. But the heresy is not here; the heresy was your previous lives. This will all become clear to you in the course of the next few days. In addition to weapons training, Cadet Kohai will be leading you in study and prayer. These sessions will strengthen your emuna—deep abiding faith—the essence of which will be explained to you in detail later. For now, just know that emuna is the source of your power, and that without it, you are just another ignorant and inept cupid, wholly dependent on the latest Academy gizmo, potion, or weapon, and living a life of meaningless folly. Where there have been no worthy cupids, you will be angels.
“Now, angels, hear our prayer. You will repeat it over and over until it is inscribed on your hearts and imbues your very being. When it becomes the most real thing in your life you will know that you have arrived, and that you have regained your true calling as angels.
“My fellow angels, Aleinu leshabei’ach,” Captain Volk boomed in Hebrew, beginning the prayer. “It is our duty to praise the Master of all, the Author of creation, who has not made us like the nations of the lands nor placed us like the families of the Earth; who has not assigned our portion like theirs, nor our lot like all their multitudes. We bend our knees, bow and give thanks before the Supreme King of kings, the Holy One who stretches out the heavens and establishes the Earth. The seat of His homage is in the firmament above, and the Presence of His power is in the loftiest heights. He is our God, there is none other!”
When Volk finished intoning the prayer, Virgil and I shouted in confirmation, “Amen!”
The recruits exchanged uncertain looks, and feeling rather stupid, mumbled a hesitant, self-conscious amen of their own.
Volk chuckled. “When you say it and mean it, then I will know that you are ready.”
The captain wasn’t angry. He knew that what he had just recited was something totally alien to the spiritually sick angels standing before us. He didn’t blame them.
He turned to me and said, “Kohai, you have your work cut out for you.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I’m counting on you. Don’t let me down.”
“No, Sir.”
“You too, Virgil,” he said.
“Yes, Sir. If I could get here, so can they.”
“That’s the spirit. Okay, you men take over. I have other matters to attend to. I’ll be back this evening to go over the day’s results with you.”
Virgil and I saluted. “Yes, Sir!”
Captain Volk nodded approvingly and whirled off.
“CO Kohai, Sir?” Cadet Troy said. Cadet Troy was the youngest of the group, blond, blue-eyed and baby-faced.
CO? Commanding officer? Sir? I liked that! I kept my smile tucked behind my gums.
“Yes, Cadet Troy.”
“Will we be learning that? Vanishing and traveling without a disgronifier?”
“That and much more, but it is up to you—all of you. I’ll teach you, but as Captain Volk said, in the end, your success will depend solely on your level of emuna. For an angel, faith is everything. We cannot emphasize this enough. It is the source of all your power. The more faith you have, the more understanding. Faith leads to understanding, understanding to more faith, onwards and upwards they go.”
“CO Kohai?”
It was Corporal Orion, the number three man on Captain Abishai’s SWAT team. He was a lean, sinewy cupid of deceptive strength and abilities. His voice was deep and gruff, which added to his surly appearance.
“Corporal?”
“What if we can’t get our heads around this emuna stuff you talk about? Does it mean we suck? Do we fail?”
“An angel of God cannot ‘suck,’ Corporal Orion. HaShem does not create sucky anything. It’s not for your head to get around—it’s for your heart to admit. The mind will follow. But don’t worry, I have absolute confidence that all of you will succeed. Inside every cupid is an angel struggling to get out. This I know for a fact.”
I turned my attention to the group. “Now, let’s get to work. We will begin everyday with an hour of prayer and meditation. Virgil will lead. Don’t worry if you feel lost. Should your thoughts wander, reel them in by turning your attention to the Almighty. Plead for forgiveness for all the crap you have committed in your previous life as an Academy cupid. Beg Him for emuna. Ask Him to open your heart and to breathe His holy spirit into your soul.” I motioned to Virgil to take over, “Virgil…”
The day passed quickly. There was so much ground to cover, so much to learn. We were under no illusions. Captain Volk had confided in me that we couldn’t expect too much, though we were never to let on that we didn’t. What we were going to teach the recruits contradicted everything they thought they knew up until now. Teaching was not really the correct term for what we had to do. It was more like revealing. We wanted to reveal to them who they really were.
To take hammer and chisel to their dogma would be too messy and laborious. We would meet with too much resistance. We didn’t want to waste precious time in long, drawn out Q & A sessions, getting bogged down in point-by-point refutation of their lifetimes of Academy indoctrination. We knew the truth of who they were. We knew because we were once like them.
No, we had to encourage their transformations from the inside out. Like butterflies, they needed to burst forth from their cocoons by themselves, just as Virgil and I had. Time being so short, however, we knew that the recruits were not going to come anywhere near our levels. The most we could hope for was that they would grasp the significance of who they truly were, and that that realization alone might be enough to give them the fighting edge required to lessen the overwhelming odds we were facing.
One major advantage we had was that the cupids were on our turf now. The distractions of Academy life were a dimension away. The Academy’s relentless propagandizing, its media, the lures of its material depravities, and the degrading influences of their fellow cupids were replaced with an environment of a muscular, spiritual calm.
After the morning prayers, I led the recruits on a tour of the yeshiva and its grounds. I allowed the place’s venerable past and soul-smoothing balm to do most of the talking. The cupids were impressed by the myriads of artifacts, scrolls, codexes, and manuscripts that were kept in the yeshiva archives.
Like Celestial Grace before them, and despite knowing nothing of their history, the recruits were nonetheless awed by the sight of the exact Platonic copies of the relics from God’s holy temple in Jerusalem, and the knowledge that as long as they appeared here it meant that they were still somewhere down there.
Outside, the recruits were shown the martial training grounds and obstacle course. The absence of modern sophistication elicited some derision, but a few demonstrations quickly silenced the scoffers.
The tour ended with a descent into the Midrashic Cave. Virgil pulled the same trick on the recruits as I had pulled on him, and Captain Cyrus before on me. All the mighty cupids’ shoulders together couldn’t budge the granite stone that hid the cave. When Virgil moved the massive stone with a gentle push of his hand, the recruits were unable to contain their astonishment, though they still believed it some sort of trick.
The spiritual levels of the recruits were too low to show them the true purpose of the cave and what an angel is capable of doing in it, but we could give them a brief glimpse of the countless dazzling records that the Midrasha contained.
To do so, we had them sit down in a circle and practice a short meditation. Then Virgil and I hopped from one initiate to another, placing our hands on their heads and solar plexuses, and concentrating enough spiritual energy into each to open a window in
their souls. The effect was similar to a man who had spent his entire life in a big city without once ever having seen the night sky and its billions of sparkling pinpoints of light.
“Whoa,” Cadets Ares and Troy cooed, their mouths hanging open.
“Each light is a human soul,” I explained. “Contained within these radiant diamonds is the life history of every person who has ever lived, down to the minutest detail. Every action and word has been recorded. Once you realize your angelic natures, you will be able to soar among these lights that you see, and be able to contemplate the intricate majesty of the Almighty. You will see what He sees; know what He knows. But you will also realize that this is but a mere sliver of His awesome grandeur.”
The rest of the day was spent training the cupids in the tricks of the trade. First, we worked on building their internal energy—isometrics for the soul. This was a lot of fun because in demonstrating the power of an angel’s internal energy, their ruach, it allowed Virgil and I the opportunity to send the cupids soaring backwards through the air with just a tap of our open-palmed hands. It also put to rest once and for all any reservations any of them may have had about our qualifications.
After a few hours of these exercises, we led the budding angels to the dreaded obstacle course. With stopwatches in hand, we sent them scrambling across the barrier-laden field. Not one of them could even reach halfway before surrendering to one of its many obstructions.
Naturally, they were in disbelief that anyone could complete such a difficult course, and especially under five minutes.
I repeated what Captain Volk had told me, saying, “Whatever gains you achieve here will be expressed much more fully down in the human world. The better your balance, speed, and agility here, the greater they will be down there.”
I motioned to Virgil to demonstrate that it could be done. He jogged over to the starting line and waited for my signal. I turned to the recruits.
Shooting Eros - The Emuna Chronicles: Complete Boxset: Books 1 - 3 Page 62
