I took a wild guess. “It means that God is ever at play with His new creations.”
“No!” Mephistopheles reared back and threw his goblet at me. It missed my head by a hairsbreadth. “No, no, no! Aren’t you listening to me? Didn’t you hear a word I said? There is this creature, this speck, this nothing that lives by God’s will, God’s intelligence, God’s mercy, and it lives in a fashion that God dictates! What does that tell you?”
“God makes its choices for it,” I said, ready to react to any more violent outbursts.
“Yes!” Mephistopheles said pointing at me then spinning once and throwing up his hands. He smiled, his teeth glinting. “I knew you’d see. I knew you’d understand.”
I understood nothing. “It’s obvious,” I replied. “But a few questions come to mind.”
“Of course you have,” he said, pleased. “But now you understand the central puzzle that made me first ask why. Please, ask away. I am at your service. Would you like more wine?”
I shook my head and threw him a placating smile. “So this infinitesimal creature that has no soul or free will and wasn’t created in the image of God, lives by God’s grace and will, and lives to prey on the weak.” Understanding finally struck me. “You think this creature is the model we should follow because it knows God’s will better than we do. You think we have it all wrong.”
“Thank you for putting it so eloquently. Yes, that was exactly my dilemma. This nothing creature lives by God’s will and cares nothing for preying on the weak. This creature is pure in its choices because it has none. It channels God more cleanly and genuinely than any of us could, including our esteemed brother Michael. Free will doesn’t get in this creature’s way, therefore this nothing creature must be obeying God’s will. So you see. It is the example we should be following, not our own infatuation with love and mercy and harmony and the rest of that nonsense.
“Through His creation, God revealed His will to me. I alone understood it. And do you think I could convince any of our siblings on the Causal of the enormity, the epiphany, the truth, of what I discovered? They would scoff with their self-righteous ways and claim I knew nothing. Well, there was only way to prove it, wasn’t there?”
I stared in bewilderment. He waged this war because of an insect he discovered on the primordial plane? I smiled soothingly, muscles tensed and ready to act.
“So I studied them,” Mephistopheles continued, his gaze far away. “I learned all I could. Millennia passed. I helped creatures evolve. There are creatures there almost like us, evolved from simians. Did you know that? They can think and make tools. I taught them that. Not directly, of course, but through suggestions, through dreams, and other ways. I taught them how to live in communities; I planted the seeds of civilization and nurtured them along. They’re part of my flock, so to speak.
“Even through the smallest of creatures, God speaks to us. For example, I discovered a species of ant whose sole purpose is to conquer a smaller species of ant then enslave them to do their bidding. Can you imagine that? The smaller ants labor and toil for the larger, carrying their food, building their colonies, serving them. There was a valuable lesson to be learned to be sure.”
“The wingless,” I said. “That’s why you enslaved them.”
He smiled and raised his glass. “Correct. An inspired idea if I do say so myself. I gave them a purpose. After all, what other use could there possibly be for them? They and the other beasts are lowest of the low.
“But you see, that’s how it’s supposed to work. On the physical, no matter what creature I encountered, they all lived by the same rules. The strong survive, grow, thrive, and evolve. The weak succumb or serve the strong. So, if every creature without a soul or free will acts the same according to God’s will, then how could I argue against it? That’s when I knew. We had it all wrong. The physical plane was God’s way of showing us how to live.” He shrugged. “So we acted.”
“Sammael agreed with all your theories?” I asked.
“Not all. You see, I didn’t need to convince him to act on my discoveries. He convinced me to act on mine. I had my doubts. I was afraid that you and the others wouldn’t agree with my findings, that you would be cross with me. Lucifer cast my doubts aside. He explained it to me very simply – truth must always come first. He is truly enlightened.”
Enough. I had heard enough. I smiled disarmingly. “Perhaps I’ll have another drink after all.” I handed him my goblet.
He accepted it and walked back to the small table. “We were right, you know. We’re serving God. We’re acting according to His will. We discovered that immediately.” He poured some more wine.
“Take you, for instance,” he continued, handing me the goblet. “You’re a perfect example of my theorems in practice. Your presence here validates all my actions. You take what you want. Who can stand in your way? The strong rule, Sariel, as well we should. It is our right. God made us more powerful than all others. How many have you slain to get what you desired? Do you know how much I admire you at the moment? My heart swells at the very sight of you, all girded for war!”
“Stop,” I whispered, closing my eyes against the guilt, the burning shame ripping through my stomach. But he was right about me. How was I different from him at the moment? How many did I destroy to get here? I could not bear the thought of his pride in me.
“Modesty, Sariel?” chuckled Mephistopheles in misunderstanding. “This is no time for modesty. We need to proclaim our right. Lead by example. You will join us, of course, now that you’re here.
“If I had known that you came alone without a host of angels at your back trying to overthrow me, we could have avoided all that unpleasantness with the fighting and battle of wills. We could have had a quiet brotherly chat as we are doing now.” He frowned.
“The only pieces that don’t fit are the children,” he said. “There are only two. Your son and my daughter. God created them for a purpose but I cannot fathom why. It’s important, I can feel it. What do you think the connection –”
I reached forth my hand to the child. She flew into my arms, her wail piercing as she abruptly awakened. I cradled her to my chest, both arms crossing over her little body. Tucking my head down over hers, I launched straight up.
“Sariel!” boomed Mephistopheles.
My shoulders smashed through the ceiling. Darkness swallowed me. I kept going, powering through a mountain of stone and rock debris. Finally, I exploded out of the stronghold and shot up into the torrential downpour. The nebula portal hovered above me, flashing hues of purples, greens, and yellows.
A hand grabbed my ankle. Pain flared through my leg. The child still wailed, huddled against my chest.
“You go too far!” Mephistopheles cried, one hand gripping my ankle and the other poised to strike, black dagger-like claws extending from the fingertips. He swiped at my exposed leg beneath my armor.
I cried out in pain and kicked. My foot smashed into his chin. His head jerked backwards but he did not let go.
I kicked again, putting all my force behind it, enough to shatter rock. His head snapped sideways. He let go.
I shot upwards like a stone released from a sling. Mephistopheles was right behind me.
“You cannot escape me!” he cried. “This is my realm. I make the rules here. That portal will only take you to another domain of mine. Stop this at once and I’ll overlook this impertinence. This is your last chance!”
I entered the cloud. Flashes of colors danced around me. I felt the familiar shimmer of entering another plane. This was it, my timing had to be precise.
Mephistopheles may have ruled this realm and blocked portals willed into existence, but he could not control the narrow space within a portal that bridged two spheres. This bridge, no bigger than a footstep, was where I created my own portal.
In that instant, I mentally visualized my portal within his but mine took me to the Causal. It was time I returned home.
I flew through it, instantly closing m
y portal behind me.
CHAPTER TEN
A cold wind cut through me as I hovered in near darkness. The baby wailed, tucked carefully in my arms. I wrapped my cloak around her and whispered soothing sounds, turning my back to the wind. Mephistopheles was nowhere to be seen, which was a relief, but I hadn’t travelled to the Causal. I had no idea where I was save that I was still in the astral plane. I took in the landscape, trying to retrieve my bearings.
The cold air smelled crisply of pine. Above me, stars lay strewn against the night like chips of diamonds. Spinning galaxies, seemingly frozen in time, populated the night sky in a light dusting of silver swirls. Starlight cast a faint glow on distant mountain peaks draped in snow. Far beneath me, sparkling lakes dotted the valleys. Rivers like ribbons of silver wove in between flowing hills and rising mountains.
I shook my head, perplexed. It all looked familiar but I could not place it.
I shivered against the chill of the night, which was highly unusual. Frigid temperatures rarely affected me. The air felt far colder than it should have. Abrupt stabbing pains flared behind my eyes. I recoiled from the pain as flashes of light danced across my vision.
What was happening to me? The cold shifted into an intense burning that coursed through me as if I drank flames. I forced calm even breaths, and willed prana from the air into my body. It helped. The flashes vanished, the burning lessened.
Calm. Stay calm. Think.
I opened a portal to the Causal but failed to reach it. Why? It should have been simple. I had done it a thousand times over …
But that was before I was fallen.
Understanding hit me a like a stunning blow – I had travelled to the highest sphere I could go.
The corruption in the lower spheres infected me. My astral body had hardened, grown more dense, more out of tune with the light and airy spirit, and I could no longer travel to the higher, more subtle spheres, just like Iobel and Requel. The upper spheres were lost to me.
The Causal, my home …
Sadness swept through me. Would I ever be able to return? I, who was once blessed among the mighty, had not taken long to fall so low.
How much of my other powers, my other abilities as Archangel, were lost to me as well?
“Enough,” I said aloud, exhaling. I banished my self-pity. It was beneath me and I refused to indulge in it. I needed to focus on the matters at hand. The baby needed me.
I stroked her cheek. “If this is as high as I can go, little one, then where are we? Perhaps the fourteenth? Yes, that would explain the beauty of the cosmos above us. But that isn’t so bad, little one. We are still near the Causal which is my home.” I frowned. But that would not explain the mountain range in the distance. The fourteenth had a few, but not many.
Were they new to the landscape? Perhaps. Or were they always there but I was unaware? Only one way to find out. I sped towards them.
As I flew through the darkness, I experimented with the discomfort I felt previously. I noticed that if I rose higher, the burning sensation and the bitter cold affected me more deeply, but as I dipped lower to the ground, the afflictions lessened. Not considerably so but certainly noticeable. The baby, on the other hand, gave no indication of discomfort at any height.
I could live with my current predicament, I decided. The fourteenth was still considered part of the upper spheres where only the deeply spiritual in the eyes of God could rise. That thought comforted me.
It wasn’t until the sun peeked above the horizon in beautiful sprays of reds and deep oranges that I realized I wasn’t on the fourteenth.
I stopped abruptly and stared at the horrible horizon. Sunrises did not occur on the fourteenth, it being a perpetual view into the cosmos.
Hovering on the crisp morning winds, the baby asleep in my arms, I felt the full weight of my fall full in my chest and the despair of it crushed me.
I was on the tenth. Merely the tenth.
I stared for another full and awful minute at the sunrise before I pushed on. I swallowed hard, my thoughts grim.
I had chosen my path. I would fall from even greater heights before my journey ended, I was certain.
I had no idea how prophetic those thoughts would turn out to be.
* * *
I reached the first of the mountain summits, a hunched and gnarled giant wearing a shawl of white, just as the sun rose over its shoulder. I shielded my eyes from the brilliance and let my heart warm to the breathtaking spectacle. It was such a stark contrast to the lower spheres and the turmoil there.
I skimmed around the summit and entered a cluster of mountains. They rose up on all sides, tall and imposing, chests puffed out in pride and majesty.
I smiled at a fond and very old memory, realizing why I had been unknowingly drawn to these mountains when I first entered this sphere. Requel and I had camped here once for several days a very long time ago, searching for a group of wizened angels from each angelic order, save Archangel, who had abandoned their daily lives in search of eternal bliss with spirit.
It was said that these angels had achieved a oneness with God that was so pure it rivaled anything in the Causal.
What made this group so appealing was that it found oneness on the tenth sphere which was accessible to any soul. One did not have to venture to the highest spheres or the Causal, where many could not go, to find bliss.
We combed these mountains for days and found no sign of a group, wizened or otherwise, that lived here.
The reason was simple. They did not exist.
I reached out with my feelings constantly during those few days and found nothing. Requel wanted to believe, however, so I didn’t disappoint her with the truth. Still, those few days in the rugged mountains were sublime and the memory of it lifted my spirits.
I banked and weaved my way through the clutch of mountains. In the distance, a peak towered above all others, dwarfing those I had just flown over. There was a name for this particular mountain, Riswan, the Gate of Heaven. It was said that if one stood on the summit of Riswan with a trusting heart, one could speak with God.
I felt no such desire at the moment, but I did need to speak to my brethren. In the past, whenever I wished to talk with Gabriel, Michael, or any of the others, I simply stilled my mind and sent a mental pulse. It was second nature to me. I felt them constantly, in the back of my mind, and I could summon their presence when necessary.
Since going to the lower spheres, I hadn’t felt them at all. My connection was lost.
But I needed their help now more than ever. Perhaps Riswan was the answer I was looking for to communicate with them once again.
I reached the giant ancient peak just as the sun stood at its zenith in a deep blue sky. Banking upwards, I grazed along the surface, dodging rock outcroppings and skimming up its length.
As I rose higher, dull stabs of pain lanced inside my head. Clenching my jaw against the pain, I continued to rise. The intense burning I felt before returned with a vengeance. My stomach convulsed against the pain but still I rose. Flashes of light played in front of me. I blinked furiously, my eyes tearing. My arms and legs began to tremble violently. My flight became erratic, and twice I careened against a rocky outcropping.
Higher I flew. Dizziness swept over me followed by waves of nausea. The baby began to wail in my arms, her eyes squeezed shut in fright at my uncontrolled weaving. The burning sensation tore through me and felt as if it were ripping me apart.
I had flown too high. The subtle energies at this elevation were too much for me. My skin was on fire. I screamed in agony. A rocky ledge clipped my wings and I spun furiously. Tucking the child to my chest, I sheltered her as best I could before I hit another rocky ledge and landed hard. My right wing bent under me.
I stayed there, breathing heavily, unable to move. Every moment was sheer torture. The child cried hysterically, her face red, eyes tearing.
I looked up. The summit wasn’t far, perhaps only thirty paces, but it may as well have been in another spher
e for all the good it did me. I wasn’t going any higher.
“Gabriel!” I shouted with my remaining strength. “Michael! I need you! Please.” I closed my eyes, trying to ease the pressure behind my eyes, to calm my dizziness. It didn’t help.
“Sariel?” a voice said as if through a fog. Did I imagine it? I opened my eyes. My brother, Azazel, crouched in front of me, his white hair whipping in the wind, his eyebrows furrowed in worry. Kakabel, my lovely sister, stood behind him, her eyes wide. She had never looked so divine.
“Are you well?” She crouched alongside me, placing her hand on my forehead. An instant soothing flowed through me. “You’re burning up, Sariel. What has happened to you? Why are you here?”
“The baby. You must protect the baby,” I said, the words coming out in short bursts almost incoherently. My tongue refused to work.
Kakabel picked up the child and the baby instantly quieted down. She rocked it gently, her face spoke confusion and alarm. “Sariel, what is the matter? You were supposed to speak with our Father and ask for His guidance. Did He send you here? Is that why you’re garbed for war?”
I shook my head. “I failed,” I said, the admission a thousand times more painful than the tearing of my body. My eyes stung. “I received no guidance from Him. I left His presence and sought to rescue the child on my own. I am here by my will, not His.”
“You went to war without God’s blessing?” said Azazel, stunned. “How can that be? You are the most faithful of us!” His outburst surprised me.
“I did what I must but that isn’t important now. I need your help. Protect her, Azazel. Please.”
“Her?” Kakabel said, staring at the child. “This isn’t your son?”
“No. There are two children, a boy and girl. My son is still missing. I rescued this child from Mephistopheles.” I coughed, my chest ripping. “You must keep her safe.”
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