But it was more than that … the rock, Mirabel, the resistance to my will … it was all wrong. There were forces at work here, forces I did not understand, and they were strong.
It was as if this sphere was diseased. Or worse, this sphere saw me as the disease.
Not only did I fall from God’s grace but was I an anathema to God’s creation? Is this what it meant to be fallen?
Would my Archangel prowess fade? Had it already begun?
Brushing the rock crumbs and dust from my hands, I stood. “You were right, Requel,” I said softly.
I recalled her impassioned plea for aid, her claims that the lower spheres, and those that dwelled here, were sick and suffering. The guilt and sorrow I had been feeling rose up in an aching wave that threatened to drown me. I sat in a chair, trembling.
I was too arrogant, too self-righteous to see it before. But I saw it in that moment. “You were right.”
* * *
“What did you think of Mirabel?” asked Iobel, taking a seat on a stool across from me. “Intriguing, is she not?”
“That’s one word for it,” I replied, less than composed. “Her aura is barely visible, she’s wingless, she has no memory, and her body is incredibly dense.”
“It gets stranger still,” he said, wiping his balding pate with a rag. “There is one important fact that I did not mention.”
“I can hardly wait.”
“She died.”
“Died?” I repeated incredulously.
“Indeed. Slain by an arrow loosed from a fallen archer. I know. I was there when it happened.”
“But she is whole,” I stammered.
“She is whole now, yes. But, you see my dear Archangel, she came back to life.”
“If this is some sort of jest…”
“It’s not, my friend, I swear it. She wandered back into my camp a fortnight ago just as you see her now – wingless, her memories lost, but still the same. She remembered her name and little else.”
“But that makes no sense,” I said, rising. Nothing did. I began to pace. “Perhaps you were mistaken, perhaps she didn’t die.”
“Oh but she did. Vanished into nothing. That is, until she wandered back into my camp six years later. She’s not the same though. She used to sing and laugh. She does none of that now. You saw how she is. She’s timid. Tormented.”
Riddles upon riddles. “There has to be an explanation for all of this.”
“I’m sure there is but I’m damned if I know.”
“Requel,” I whispered softly. The thought of her wandering aimlessly and crippled struck me to the core. “How many others have there been?”
“Wingless? More than I’m comfortable with. There are perhaps twenty or so with us now. But of them all, I only recognized Mirabel. A few were also recognized by others and they all share the same symptoms. It seems the dead are returning to us but not as we knew them. I can only imagine that there are far more roaming around considering the hundreds of thousands that have died.”
“There’s too much we don’t know,” I said, frustrated. “All these changes, these phenomena – they suggest deeper meanings here, Iobel. Much deeper. They’re all connected, but I cannot see a pattern. They’re all facets of some great mystery beyond my intellect. Would that I had the insight of Raphael just now.”
“Couldn’t you go to him for aid?”
“I’m afraid I’m the only aid you’ll be seeing from the Causal at the moment.”
He shrugged. “It’s more than I could have hoped for.”
“We shall see. There is another matter we need to discuss. You have yet to tell me how Dirael and the other warriors reached the seventh sphere. How was a portal opened?”
He paused then looked away as if embarrassed. “I had help.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. I received visions, but they were sporadic and only showed me glimpses. They were more frustrating than not. The last vision I had showed me a lady of light upheld by twelve floating doves. She said she would open the gate at a specific time for us so we could rescue the child. That was three months ago. I prepared Dirael and my warriors for the foretold time.
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure I hadn’t imagined the whole thing. I can’t tell you how relieved I was when the portal opened. I wasn’t mad after all. I sent my forces through two days ago and they returned, not with the child, but with you, the child’s father. A stranger coincidence I could not imagine. If coincidence it was.”
“Can you communicate with the lady? Ask questions of her?”
“No,” he growled. “That’s another frustration. The visions are onesided. I receive direction and cannot speak back. I cannot make them occur. I simply do as I’m told.”
“Was there any other information she gave you?”
“Nothing. In the beginning, she visited me often and told me of safe places to hide. She led me to this cavern. She told me where to find others, how to stay safe. Now she visits maybe once or twice a year.”
“Has anyone else seen her?”
“No one and I prefer it that way. I’d rather not let on that I’m communing with higher powers.”
“What do you make of her? Sounds like she could be of the Virtues.”
“A messenger from God?” Iobel laughed. “I’ve given up on that long ago. No, I think it’s far more mundane. I believe someone in the higher spheres has taken an interest in us and is trying to help but doesn’t want to be noticed.”
“But she knew about Requel and the child,” I said, with just a touch of unexpected jealousy. “Requel must have confided in her. But if so, why?”
A tremendous crash thundered through the cavern. Screams followed, loud and shrill. Dust trickled from the ceiling of rock.
“Dear God,” Iobel said softly. “I think they’ve found us.”
CHAPTER SIX
We scrambled out of the room and sped down the corridor just as another reverberation boomed loudly. A great groan emanated from the main cavern accompanied by the sounds of splitting and snapping timber. An ear shattering crash followed. Screams split the air and cries of alarm echoed shrilly.
I burst into the main cavern just as great plumes of dust and dirt rose into the air. The ceiling had collapsed in one area and, as it fell, brought down a great section of the refugee city. Hundreds of angels were trapped beneath, wailing and crying. But even their voices were drowned out as another thunderous boom rocked the cavern.
Thick dust clouded my vision into a dark haze. Only scant torchlight pierced the gloom, winking like fireflies. The wails began anew. Iobel backed away, coughing furiously.
“Dirael!” I shouted, my voice barely carrying through the din.
I reached out with my senses through the ether, my vision was useless against the thick, black fog of dust and dirt. I felt him a few scant feet away. He stepped into my vision like a wraith, his right wing bleeding and jutting oddly from his side.
“I’m a fool, Sariel,” Dirael said between clenched teeth. “The fallen followed us here. I’ve killed us all.”
“Enough of that talk. Move all who are able to the rear of the cavern. Tell those that are able to hover near the ceiling to ready themselves for when I open the portal. Spread the word!”
He moved away, shouting. I grabbed Iobel and pulled him close. “Your fortress on the ninth – I need you to visualize it and concentrate on it with all your strength. Do it now!”
Iobel, his eyes tearing and face covered in grime, nodded. I entered his mind.
On a great plateau awash with dark green grass and colorful pools of mountain flowers, a mighty fortress sat majestic like a noble king on a throne surveying his land. Its back was pressed against, and guarded by, a cliff face both mammoth and sheer. White towers rose skyward against a brilliant blue sky. Colorful pendants atop each tower snapped lazily in gusting winds. Crenellated battlements adorned the tall and mighty walls encircling the fortress. Guard towers rose up in intervals along the walls like proud
sentries standing at attention. On a domed hill of green in the center of the fortress, a magnificent keep stood alone, tall and imposing. A single flag fluttered from the keep, the symbol of the Cherubim – two open hands, palms outward, on a field of blue…
I squeezed Iobel’s shoulder. “We’ll get your flock there. I swear it. Now get ready to move.”
I launched into the air. Dust blinded me but I didn’t need my eyes to see. I cast out with my intuition, sensing the moving auras and shifting prana in the ether. All objects emanated energy, sometimes trace amounts, but even those trace amounts were enough to discern a stalactite falling from the ceiling or a jutting timber as I flitted past. With my intuition, I could see more clearly than my eyes could ever see. I peered through objects and viewed all things omnisciently, above, below, and to the sides of me.
I darted and ducked as I weaved through the morass of panicked angels, falling debris, and leaning buildings. Blind angels collided haphazardly in front of me, careening and falling to the ground. I flew through them, soaring and spinning as I headed towards the front of the cavern where I had left my chariot.
Another boom shocked the cavern. Through my intuition, I saw the mighty stone gate that led into the cavern fracture. Shock waves rippled from the impact and another great section of the tiered refugee camp began to collapse. Scores of angels, those who had taken refuge in the wooden structures, screamed as great pieces of it ripped away. The bulk of the structure began to fold in on itself like a house of straw.
“Clear away!” I cried as I hurled myself at the largest crossbeam and heaved. The beam was thicker than my body, the splintered wood tearing at my fingers. I beat my wings furiously, holding the great timber in place.
“Move to the rear of the cavern! Hurry!” I shouted. The angels quickly launched free of the collapsing building. When the last of the angels had departed, I released the beam and the massive structure crumpled sending waves of dirt and dust upwards.
Another thunderclap ripped through the cavern as the great stone gate buckled. Dozens of angels moved to brace the gate, supporting it with stone columns and broken timbers.
Through the gloom, I spotted the object of my search. My chariot remained where I had left it, my team of fiery horses neighing and pawing at the air.
I swooped down to my chariot and grabbed my sword. I raised it high and fed it energy. The blade flared like the sun. Light flooded the cavern, penetrating even the thick dust hanging in the air. Those near me covered their eyes, others turned away.
“Everyone to the back of the cavern!” I roared, willing my voice to cut through all sound. They scrambled towards the rear.
I fixed my gaze at the cavern ceiling high above. Concentrating with all my focus, I visualized Iobel’s majestic fortress on the ninth sphere, complete with rolling hills in the background and set against a sky of deepest blue. With a long swipe of my sword, I willed a portal to open there.
Halfway into my swing, my sword abruptly halted in mid-air as if it struck stone. I stared in disbelief. Nothing was visible. But I felt a resistance, a cold, solid resistance.
It was as if the sphere itself refused my will. The same way it didn’t allow me to reconstitute a stone I had crushed in my hand.
My concentration broke and doubt seized me. If I couldn’t reform a simple stone, how could I open a portal to a higher sphere which was infinitely more difficult? I faltered, my sword dropping to my side.
Again I strongly visualized the ninth sphere and willed a portal there. I felt the energies gather, bending to my will. Confident, I cut the air with my sword once again. The blade clanged against something hard, something tangible, and bounced away as if parried.
In all my days, I had commanded the elements, the energies, the very forces of God with but a mere thought. Now they did not obey.
My will was denied. And it terrified me.
Another thunderous crash smashed against the stone gate behind me. A dozen angels blew backwards from the shock and landed in crumpled heaps.
Doubts assailed me. I felt all eyes watching, waiting, wondering why I hadn’t yet opened the portal.
I licked my lips, trying to concentrate on the ninth sphere yet again. Sweat formed on my brow. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. Dear God, what was happening to me?
I felt the fear rise among those watching me. Someone began to sob, a hopeless, desperate sound. Like a spreading flame, others began to weep and moan as their hope fled. Their keening burned me to my core.
“Please Sariel, open the portal,” a voice said beside me. It was Dirael. “This gate won’t hold for much longer.”
As if in response, the fallen smashed the gate anew. More angels reeled back from the shockwave as cracks in the gate split even further. A gust of putrid air blew in from outside.
Calm. I breathed in slowly. Stay calm. Remember who you are. Where you are from. I care not for the laws, the changes, and the corruption of this sphere. I am Archangel, fallen or no. I remember who I am. I know who I am.
With an iron will, I gritted my teeth and raised my sword once more. “I am Sariel of the Archangels!” I shouted to the walls, to the ceiling, to all and everything that could hear my booming voice. “My will be done!”
I slashed down with all my strength. My arm immediately hit resistance yet again.
But I was ready for it. And I drove through it.
It was if a dam burst within me. Power flooded. Oh how I missed it!
Dust swirled in the center of the room near the cavern ceiling, slowly at first, then with increasing speed until it formed a mighty funnel. With a clap, the vortex flattened into a swirling portal like an enormous spinning disc.
Glorious sunshine spilled through. The smell of orange blossoms and mountain pine wafted into the cavern. The portal surface shimmered and danced like a crystalline pool.
Through it, a white fortress sat off in the distance.
* * *
“Quickly now, through the portal!” I shouted.
The bravest of the angels plunged in first. The surface rippled like a pool of water before they soared on the other side. Shouts of elation erupted from those watching and they cheered. Angels left and right dove through the portal and they soared and laughed as they flew in deep blue skies. A mass exodus quickly followed.
“The wounded!” Iobel shouted, his wings beating as he hovered beneath the portal, pointing to those trapped under wreckage or those on the ground too wounded to fly.
“What of us?” someone cried hysterically. “Don’t leave us!” Several of the wingless reached longingly towards the portal.
Iobel barked an order and two angels swooped down. Each scooped up a wingless and sped to the portal. As the wingless touched the barrier, they jerked back, screaming shrilly. They burst into flames and disintegrated into ash.
The two angels carrying them howled in pain as they passed through the portal, their hands and arms charred where they had carried the wingless. One landed on the green grass, smoldering, while the second left a trail of smoke as he fell from the sky.
I watched in stunned disbelief. The mass exodus ceased. Iobel stared in horror.
Another crash thundered from the gate. Rock, debris, and angels blasted backward.
“Leave the wingless to me!” I shouted. “Take only the angel wounded. Move!”
The exodus started anew. The wingless cried out in despair, some slinking to their knees, others reaching longingly towards the portal. Mirabel stood off to the side, looking at me as if I had betrayed her.
Dirael swooped down to my side. “Surely we cannot leave them behind?”
“No, we’ll not leave them. But their affliction won’t let them ascend to a higher sphere.”
I raised my sword and pointed to a cleared section of wall near a group of wingless. Focusing, I willed another portal to materialize. I met resistance but I swatted it aside like an annoying insect. Raw power still surged through me. My will would not be denied.
A p
ortal shimmered in the wall. I visualized the location where Dirael had first led me to this forsaken domain.
“Gather them up and march them through,” I told Dirael. “Wingless only.”
“But where does it lead?”
“To where you first brought me into this sphere. That is the best I can do for now.”
Dirael raced towards Mirabel and the other wingless, pointing at the portal.
I turned my attention to the gate.
The enormous gateway was splintered and shorn, splitting with massive cracks where putrid brimstone and dim light seeped through. Only a handful of angels remained, bracing what was left of it with beams as they bought the rest of us time.
Another tremendous crash reverberated throughout the cavern. The head of a huge battering ram burst through. A huge section of the gate collapsed, crushing a screaming angel underneath. The battering ram slowly began to pull back. The gate wouldn’t withstand another blow.
“You there!” I called to an angel warrior vainly trying to maneuver a crossbeam into place. “Leave it and tell the others to back away. Let the fallen come.”
The angel warrior stared at me for a moment before relaying the message to the others. They all moved away.
I climbed through the opening created by the battering ram and stepped onto a narrow ledge outside.
The battering ram was enormous and made from the largest timber I had ever seen, the width of the trunk was three times my height. It was wrapped in iron plates with countless metal spikes jutting from the trunk. The head of the ram resembled a metallic skull of some great beast. Hundreds of fallen supported the abomination using handholds and tethers of chain. They reared the beastly thing back, their wings beating vigorously for the final blow.
Beyond the battering ram, the night shifted and moved from the countless fallen filling the darkened sky.
The battering ram heaved forward. It hurtled through the air directly at me. Planting my feet, I caught the massive head with both hands. And pushed back hard.
The ram burst backwards as if fired from a ballista. The force of it ripped away the hands and arms of the hundreds of fallen supporting it. The massive timber shot through the air, spiraling and twirling as it rushed towards the fallen army. It exploded into them, swiping countless fallen bodies from in its path. Screams filled the night as a great section of the fallen army melted away. The great ram churned unhindered deeply into the fallen ranks before all sight of it faded.
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