I descended to my chariot and cracked the reins. My team of horses lurched towards the tunnel I had just made. As if jarred awake, the few remaining groups of angels cried out and joined my flanks; their shields up and swords and spears held high. There were perhaps a hundred of us against their many thousands.
No matter, they would not stop me. I charged.
The fallen surged to life. They drew together and rose up before descending on us with a tremendous crash.
They hit us like an avalanche. Many angels beside me were swept away by the sheer ferocity of it. Our charge faltered. A mass of bodies swarmed before me, thickening by the heartbeat.
I whipped the reins hard. My team of horses let out a piercing shrill and surged forward, ramming into those blocking our path. I pulled my wings in and held my shield close. My sword was useless against so many. The fallen bodies careened and slammed against my shield again and again. I felt my charge slow. There were just too many.
“Requel!” I heard myself shout in frustration. The fallen kept coming. Hundreds. Thousands. They swarmed over me. I bellowed my defiance.
Sheathing my sword, I raised my fist to the sky. Lightning crackled from the roiling thunderheads and struck the fallen about me. They exploded backwards in sizzling bursts. Again I called forth the lightning. The fallen screamed and scattered. Wings burst into flame and armor smoldered.
It wasn’t enough. Through the driving rain and bodies, I moved closer to the tower but it still seemed so far away. The rain continued to pelt me.
Then an idea formed. I smiled grimly.
With a wave of my hand, the driving sheets of rain hardened. The uncomfortable droplets turned into icy pelts that began to sting. Another wave of my hand and the hail grew to the size and heft of small stones. White shards of ice flashed across my vision.
The fallen raised their shields against the icy onslaught. Those that did not stumbled awkwardly, the hailstones pummeling them into a submissive dance. I increased the hailstones in size and mentally added icy points as if each hailstone was studded with nails.
It ripped through them. The clash of ice against steel reverberated loudly. The fallen gathered together in large pockets, raising their shields desperately. Those that could not were shredded, the icy missiles ripping away wings and gouging exposed limbs and faces, battering flesh and skin into pulp.
Cracking the reins, I surged forward and drew my sword. I hewed left and right. Fallen on both sides died. Their shrieks and cries filled my mind but I did not care. My only thoughts were of Requel.
At some point, my arm numb from hacking, I broke through the fallen army to the other side. To my surprise, a few angels still flew with me. In the distance, a single tower jutted up like a crooked and clawed finger rising from a mountain peak.
Requel …
I sped forward. The tower grew more visible. It had dozens of windows, all too small to enter and no doors I could see. Launching myself from the chariot, I spread my wings and sailed upwards.
The tower was massive, easily three hundred feet across and several thousand feet tall. The windows were nothing more than small openings, much too small for me to fit through. I picked a window near the top and hacked with my sword, carving an opening through the stone wide enough for me to step through.
Inside, the sounds of the hail and wind dimmed to a dull and distant roar. My footsteps echoed loudly as I walked towards an oak door bound with iron. Wrenching the door open, I stepped into a corridor.
“Requel!” I shouted, looking left and right. It would take time to search all the rooms. Too much time. I shouted her name again, almost pleadingly.
I started down the corridor, the light from my sword illuminating the darkened halls. I picked up my pace until I raced forward, shouting Requel’s name, and sprinted down stairwells at random. There was no reason or method to my search; it was born of desperation. I sped halfway down my fourth set of stairs when I stopped short. I heard a voice, small and frail. I dared not hope.
“Sariel,” Requel called to me weakly in my mind.
Tears sprang to my eyes. My heart swelled with aching longing. “Where are you?” My hands trembled as I leaned back against the stairway wall. I could not think. I could not reason. Her voice robbed me of all strength. The terrible fear that she had died had vanished but was replaced by one of abject helplessness. I just wanted her near me. “Please, my love. You must tell me.”
An image flashed in my mind of a three way intersection. I had passed that intersection only moments before. I raced back up the steps from which I had come and burst through a door. Turning left, I sprinted down the corridor until I saw the intersection. Down one corridor, barely visible, was the door in my vision. It stood battered and torn. I flung it open.
There, on the floor, lay my Requel.
Her face was bruised and partially buried by her hair. Her robes were torn and smudged with markings as if she had been beaten and kicked repeatedly. I removed my helmet and gently moved to her side. Kneeling, I brushed the hair from her face and tenderly turned her over. Only then did I see the massive injury to the right side of her head.
Anger boiled within me but I did not show it. I smiled gently, reassuringly. “My love, I am here.”
Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled wanly. “Sariel … I was afraid I would never see you again.”
“How could I stay away?” I said, feeling my voice break. “You’re my life.”
“I have a child, Sariel. I wanted to tell you …”
“I know.” Her eyes widened. I smiled reassuringly. “I’ve known since last we spoke. Don’t worry. We will find him when you’re feeling better.”
She shook her head, ever so slightly. I thought my heart would tear. “I won’t be feeling better, not this time. You must find him, Sariel. He’s my child … a gift from God. I wanted him to be … our child.”
“He will be.”
She smiled. “How I prayed you would say that. That is all I ever wished for.”
“We’ll find him and take him home. I swear it.”
“I love you. I will always love you. Tell our son my last thought was of him.”
I watched silently as the body that was Requel slowly vanished until only her clothes remained.
She … died.
The thought numbed me. An indescribable ache filled my chest as if a fist squeezed my heart and crushed it relentlessly. Tears spilled down my cheeks. Great racking sobs came unbidden and shook my body.
“They are coming,” a voice said.
I turned and saw one of few remaining angel warriors filling the doorway. His armor was battered and his wings were torn and bloodied but he stood tall.
“Let them come,” I said bitterly.
“Even you can’t stand against them alone.”
“Watch me!”
“If you honor her, then you will do as she has bid you and find her child.”
“What do you know of her child?” I said angrily, rising.
“Come with me and I’ll tell you.”
CHAPTER TWO
Only one week before, I had visited Requel on the tenth sphere of the astral plane. She sat on a log in a patch of clearing surrounded by tall pines that soared to the sky, exactly where she said she would be when she spoke to me through the ether. Two moons cast an ethereal glow as if they painted the landscape in shades of silver. The air was crisp and scented of the sweetest pine. Requel smiled at my approach and I couldn’t help but smile back.
I had descended from my home in the Causal plane to meet her. Only the highest born could dwell in the Causal.
And yes, angels are born.
Each soul is a fragment of God, born in His image, each unique yet wholly divine. Each angel is born with a purpose by God’s divine will and all have the ability to manifest divinity equally. Whether they choose to or not is another matter. That’s where free will makes a difference. In fact, free will is the only characteristic that truly separates one soul from another
. Free will is God’s greatest gift, and His greatest mistake.
The other two planes are the astral and the physical. The astral plane is made up of spheres, each unique and equally compelling. Once there were sixteen spheres. Some argue there are sixteen still but they are mistaken. The war changed that.
Taken as a whole, the spheres once formed a magnificent gem, each sphere a divinely cut facet reflecting a perfect beauty of God’s imagination. Such was the astral plane back then before the wars ravaged the lower spheres. It was a true marvel to the senses. Not the gross physical senses that the limitations of the physically embodied must endure, but the senses that only intuition can produce. For that is how souls derive sensation in the astral spheres, they intuit.
Through intuition, one can touch, taste, smell, hear, and see just as on the physical plane. But intuition delivers a far crisper reality. Comparing sensory perceptions between the astral and physical planes is like looking at the moon reflected in a rippled pond rather than looking at the moon itself. Physical senses can distort the purity of what should be captured. Through intuitive sense perceptions there is no distortion – only true assimilation.
The astral plane was the primary dwelling place of the angelic hosts. It was the middle ground between the physical and the Causal. No one dwelled in the physical plane because they couldn’t. But why would they if they could? The astral had everything the physical had and infinitely more.
The physical world was a playground, a place where souls could visit and watch another aspect of God’s tantalizing creation. It was a place of study, of learning. Physical matter was much too dense to interact with. There really wasn’t much use for it. It was God’s grand science experiment where He condensed His energy and thought down to extremes which ultimately became matter. He then created immutable physical laws and threw this matter against other matter to see what would happen. Plants and creatures were added next, but even these were not original. God created nothing new in the physical plane. Everything created was a parody of something already made in the astral spheres, past or present.
It was all very fascinating but, really, what was the point? At the time I didn’t know.
“Hello Sariel.” Requel rose from her seat, her voice like music. She wore simple robes of luminance that clothed her astral frame and her wings were feathered, soft, and as tall as she. They were folded and tucked in behind her. Her long dark hair, pulled behind her ears, framed her serene and trusting face. Her aura radiated like a star, the soft glow flaring outwards and shimmering. But the color of her aura was not the pure white that I was accustomed to seeing. It had dimmed. Considerably so.
I wanted to run to her, to scoop her up in my arms and hold her forever. I suppressed the urge, of course, and calmly walked towards her, hands folded behind my back. But the impulsive thought broadened my smile.
An Archangel was expected to act in a certain fashion, which is to say, with serene wisdom and always with a calm demeanor. Archangels rose above basic emotional impulses. We were the teachers, the wisest of the wise, and we had to set an example for the other orders. But, unbeknownst to all but ourselves, the main reason we did not give in to our emotions was because it was dangerous to do so. After all, an Archangel ruled by his emotions could cause irreparable damage. The war was a testament to that.
Still, my heart melted when I saw her.
Requel was my soul mate. My soul recognized her when I first started instructing her on the Causal plane so very long ago. She reflected God’s beauty in so many ways.
Some believe angels are asexual but that is not the case. It is a matter of preference. Angels are male or female in appearance because of their internal tendencies. As a general rule, although there are exceptions, if a soul leans towards a male appearance then his soul mate will automatically lean towards a female appearance. This isn’t for propagation purposes since all souls have already been created by God and no child is born of female; it’s simply God’s way of keeping balance. Every soul has a soul mate. Requel was mine.
“I’m glad you came,” she said, her eyes hopeful and yet strangely frightened.
“How could I not?” I walked towards her with my arms outstretched. She fell into them. My arms folded around her, my astral body tingling with love.
My astral body could feel all the emotions of a physical body but with even more intensity. Liken it to a dream state. The body is asleep and does not move yet in a dream state, one can move, run, laugh, cry, feel, taste, touch, smell, and hear just as naturally as one could in a physically conscious state. One can also experience deep emotional feelings while dreaming, as I was experiencing deep and abiding love just then.
“I’ve missed you,” I said.
She gazed into my eyes and they told me she missed me too. She laid her head against my chest and I held her. An underlying tension melted from her being.
“Whenever I’m near you, I feel whole,” she said. “It’s been so long, I was beginning to wonder if I would feel that way again.”
I chuckled. “Come now, Requel. You speak as if we’ve been apart. I feel you in my heart daily.”
“I used to feel you too.”
My smile vanished. “Requel, what’s troubling you? You’re acting strangely.”
She broke away and sat again on the log. I joined her. She gazed up at the stars sprinkled in the night sky like pearls cast on black velvet. “Do you know why this is my favorite sphere?”
I shrugged and looked around. The tenth sphere was breathtaking but every sphere was in its own way. Each sphere existed in its own vibratory state. The higher spheres were far more subtle than the lower spheres and only high angels could dwell or visit in the upper spheres. The lower spheres were denser and far more populated. But each sphere, whether high or low, embodied a distinct characteristic that defined it as a whole. This particular sphere was that of the earth, and in this specific location, forests.
“Not really,” I answered, “but there is great beauty here. I can understand why.”
“It’s the trees. The woodlands rise up like giant guardians. I feel safe here as if God Himself watches over me.”
I looked at her, puzzled. “God does watch over you as He does all of us. Why should you feel unsafe anywhere?”
“I don’t feel like He watches over me anymore.”
“Tell me what’s wrong?”
She looked at me forlornly, almost pleadingly. “Can’t you know?”
I shook my head. “Your thoughts are your own, Requel. God never enters the mind unbidden and neither will I. If you want me to know, you must tell me.”
She hugged her knees to her chest. “Do you know why I called you here instead of visiting you on the Causal?”
“As you said, it’s your favorite sphere.”
“Partly. The truth of it is I can’t visit you on the Causal anymore.”
“Of course you can. You know I’ll always make time for you.”
She looked at me hard. “Please understand. I can’t visit you.” Her eyes dropped. “This sphere, the tenth, is as high as I can go.”
I understood instantly. A chill swept through me. “Tell me you didn’t join the war.”
“If you only knew how much despair is taking place …”
I stood and her words trailed off. A trace of sadness washed over me before I regained my inner peace. “Requel, the war will be resolved in its own time. It’s all part of God’s plan.”
“Yes, I’ve heard you say that many times before but that does not change the fact that there are millions of souls despairing. They’re in need. The lower spheres are in need. If only you could see that. I need your help.”
“No, I cannot,” I said, my voice rising. “Lucifer goes against everything we stand for. Why would we participate?”
“Listen to yourself. Can you never speak for just you, just Sariel? Must you always speak for the others? I’m not asking Michael or Gabriel for help. I’m asking you. Please, just listen to what I have to say
then make your own judgment.”
“Of course I will listen. All I ask is that you listen to what I have to say in return.”
She nodded then stood, staring at the sky, and folded her arms. “Initially I went to help. I wasn’t sure what I could do but I had to try. I had heard the lower spheres were in such disarray that if I could help at least one tormented soul or bring just a little harmony, wouldn’t it be better for it? So I went.” She paused. “It was far worse than I could ever have imagined. It is sick with disease and turmoil. The atrocities committed there … I cannot begin to describe the suffering I have seen.”
“You don’t have to,” I countered. “I’m certain the fallen are merely misunderstood. I’m aware of the destruction in the lower spheres the fallen have caused but the damage isn’t as severe as it seems. Both the physical and Causal planes remain untouched. The damage is contained and it’s only temporary. You should realize this.”
“Temporary to whom? It’s been going on for years, even decades! It doesn’t feel temporary to the souls who dwell there. Their homes are destroyed. The war brought chaos on a scale I’ve never seen! The vibrations there are thick with turmoil and they entangle and they inflict pain.”
“You got too close,” I said, saddened.
“No.” Her eyes were piercing and fervent. “I didn’t get close enough. I have to get closer, Sariel. I have to understand why this is happening. I have to protect –” she stopped herself. “I have to understand this so I can stand against it.”
“You stand against it by avoiding those spheres, Requel. Rise above it. Why engage when you don’t have to?”
“Because Lucifer’s minions are legion! If we do not stop them, what’s to prevent them from claiming the entire astral plane? When they first waged their war on the lower spheres, no one knew the damage they could bring. It was hardly noticed but it was terrible. It has only gotten worse since. Mountains have crumbled. Cities have been razed. Fire erupted from the lands. Darkness has descended. Entire spheres have collapsed. And angels die.”
I blinked. “Die? Impossible. Souls cannot die.”
Heaven's Night Page 2
