Heaven's Night

by Harry Aderton

  The crowd roared again. The orator held up his hands one last time. “Let the challenges begin!”

  Meresin waited patiently as five gladiator fallen emerged from concealed doors. Unlike the prior battle between fallen and demon, these gladiators didn’t have their wings pinned together. Since most demons couldn’t fly, it evened the sport to fight on the arena floor. Aerial tactics would be a significant part of this battle.

  Meresin spread his wings and rose off the floor. Three gladiators rose alongside him, one stayed below and the other above.

  The gladiators struck. The first charged from behind with a spear, aiming for the giant’s back. Meresin spun, his movement incredibly swift. In one fluid motion, he batted the spear aside with his sword. The other hand came up and over, cleaving an axe into the skull of the gladiator. The fallen crumpled under the blow, his body plummeting.

  Another gladiator tossed a net targeting Meresin’s wings. Meresin tucked his wings together and dropped straight down. The net sailed over him. He unfurled his wings and drove his sword through the surprised gladiator waiting below him. The gladiator screamed as Meresin drove him to the ground and smashed him into the marble.

  The remaining three gladiators all charged at once with spear and sword. Meresin, with blurring speed, batted aside every blow. He ripped a sword through the wing of the first, who spun to the ground. Wheeling his axe, he cut the arm off another. The third gladiator drove a spear into Meresin’s side. The giant fallen grunted before breaking the spear haft in two. He hurled his axe at the gladiator holding the severed spear haft. The axe buried in his face.

  The armless gladiator held his stump and backed away. Meresin, the spear half jutting from his side, sped after him. The giant swiped with his sword. The gladiator’s head sailed away before the body dropped.

  The last gladiator, his wing ripped, held forth a spear and stood on the ground. Meresin dove towards him. The gladiator pulled his arm back and released the spear. Meresin pivoted, the spear sailing harmlessly past him. The giant landed before the gladiator, the marble floor cracking around his feet.

  Tossing his sword away, Meresin grabbed the head of the smaller figure with both hands. Even from my height, I felt the unnatural pull of prana from the gladiator and into the giant. The gladiator screamed as his life force was ripped away. The spear protruding from Meresin’s side ejected as if pushed out. The gladiator stopped screaming as his body imploded. Meresin, completely whole and refreshed, raised both hands to the masses.

  Cheers of applause and screams of adoration burst forth. The noise was deafening. Demons trundled wagons out to pick up the bodies. Meresin saluted Tabaet who stood, arms raised, as if it was he who had just won the victory.

  I pursed my lips and rubbed my chin. Meresin was far more powerful than I had imagined. Fear clenched my stomach and it angered me. I had destroyed armies of fallen single-handedly. Why then did the thought of facing Meresin turn my insides to liquid?

  Because I had been Archangel then. I was granted power beyond imagining which I abused to take countless lives. I was Archangel no longer, of that I was certain. Then what was I? Something infinitely less, I realized to my shame. How much of my granted power was left to me?

  I stared at the giant in the arena. Could I beat him? I honestly did not know.

  After the carts departed, the orator returned to the floor. “Tonight, you have seen a spectacle unlike any other. Truly you are blessed to have witnessed the Great Meresin defeat his foes so handily. But can he conquer the greatest demon this sphere has ever seen? Behold Azza!”

  A mighty roar unleashed through the arena. A beast crawled from one of the concealed gates that opened onto the arena floor. It moved on all fours then reared up. It was half again the size of Meresin and its head was almost level with Tabaet himself.

  Azza threw back its head and cried its anger. Its wrists were chained together with links as long as my arm. The chain bound its clawed hands together and hung down to wrap around its ankles. It snarled at the crowd, its yellowed fangs as long as spears. It was hairless and scaled with pointed ears and blood red eyes. Black skin stretched tight over enormous muscles. A tail, pointed and barbed, swayed back and forth like a viper about to strike.

  The orator quickly moved back. Meresin hovered near the beast’s head then turned to Tabaet and saluted with his sword. Tabaet nodded. The crowd fell silent.

  Meresin, with wings outspread, casually drifted over to the chains binding Azza’s wrists and hacked through them with his axe. The links dropped to the marble floor with a loud clang. Growling, the demon swiped a claw at Meresin. The giant easily swayed away from the blow. Azza removed the chains from his feet and leapt.

  The demon sailed over Meresin, swiping downward with its claws. Meresin appeared surprised by the move. One of the claws caught his helmet, ripping it from his head. Meresin cried out and spun, slashing wildly at Azza’s back. The demon twisted in the air to avoid the blow, landed, and sprung again. Meresin dodged the leap, glided to the side, and swung his axe. Azza again twisted, the axe missing barely, and lashed out with its foot. It caught Meresin in the chest. Meresin sailed backwards from the blow. The crowd gasped.

  Five more times the demon leapt, and five more times Meresin barely escaped. He had yet to lay a blow on Azza. Both Meresin and Azza breathed heavily, circling one another, gauging each other for weaknesses.

  It all looked very convincing. I scowled at the theatrics. Meresin could have killed Azza at any time. He wasn’t fighting the same as when he battled the five gladiators. He was giving the audience a show. Tabaet grinned madly as Meresin prolonged the battle. The audience was enraptured by Meresin’s performance. Even the succubae and her lackey focused their attention on the battle.

  After several long minutes, Azza leapt clumsily, exhausted. Meresin dropped his weapons and caught Azza around the neck. Meresin’s wings flapped madly as he held it aloft, his arms tightening. Azza’s eyes bulged, its feet kicking wildly, its hands beating on the giant’s arms choking him. Finally, Azza’s body went limp and Meresin released it to the marble floor, dead.

  The crowd rose to their feet, shouting uncontrollably their pleasure. Meresin raised his arms and turned towards Tabaet. The Lord of the Arena looked quite pleased.

  I sat back, watching the demons cart the body away. Anger burned within me. The poor creature never had a chance. Few did once they entered the arena floor.

  And the crowds worshipped it. Craved it. Murder and bloodshed, they yearned for it. It turned my stomach.

  Suddenly, I wanted to face Meresin. I wanted to smash the pride from him. I wanted it more than anything. The fear vanished replaced by a cold anger.

  “And now we have our final bout. You have witnessed the Great Meresin battle five champions and slay them all. You have seen him defeat Azza, greatest of demons. Is there anyone here with the courage to stand before Meresin?”

  I looked about, as did all others in the arena. No one volunteered.

  “Is there no one?” the orator asked one last time. Again silence. The orator bowed deeply to Tabaet who stood.

  They didn’t expect anyone to volunteer, I realized. It was all just part of the spectacle.

  I was happy to disappoint them.

  “I will fight Meresin!” I shouted, strapping on my helm and unslinging my shield. I descended from my perch.

  All eyes fastened on me. Tabaet eyes widened as he saw me then narrowed to slits.

  The orator blinked in surprise, staring from Tabaet to me then back again. He clearly did not know what to do. “It appears we have a volunteer,” he managed, his voice carrying.

  “Still seeking passage to the Great Games?” Tabaet said wryly as I drew closer.

  “You!” the succubae said, her hideous face distorting into a wicked sneer.

  Tabaet’s eyebrows rose at the succubae’s reaction then he smiled at me. “I see you’ve already managed to create a following. How droll.”

  “This one is mine!”
the succubae shouted. “Give him to me, Tabaet. Give him to me and I’ll do whatever you wish.”

  “I am not his to give,” I snapped. “Be silent among your betters.”

  She sat back as if slapped. She rose out of her chair angrily but Tabaet calmly pushed her down. “You’ve upset my guest, Sariel. I’m inclined to deny you your request and grant her wish.”

  “That would not be wise,” I said.

  Tabaet turned towards a score of fallen guards that stood behind his pavilion. “Escort him to one of my chambers. Strip him of his armor but be careful with it. Then bind him.” He turned to the succubae. “He is yours, my dear.”

  I eyed him coldly. The guards moved forward, weapons drawn. I turned and glided towards Meresin who hovered near the center of the arena, his sword and axe still held in each hand. The guards poured out of the pavilion in pursuit.

  “Do not be alarmed,” the orator cried for all to hear. “This is no volunteer but one who seeks to disrupt the games. He will be dealt with. Please remain calm.”

  I faced Meresin who did not move. He took no more notice of me than he would an insect. “I call challenge, Meresin.”

  His eyes flickered towards me in boredom then flicked back.

  “I am Sariel!” I boomed to the audience, flooding my voice with prana to enhance the volume. “And I call challenge!”

  The audience hushed to silence. Guards rushed to grapple me from behind and from the side, pinning my arms down. They tugged and pulled me to the ground. Anger surged.

  “Release me!” I flexed my muscles. The guards exploded off of me, sailing and scattering in all directions. I rose calmly, facing Meresin once again.

  He no longer ignored me. His eyes lit with interest and he grinned. “I accept your challenge.”

  “There is no challenge!” Tabaet shouted. “Guards, seize him!”

  “I accept his challenge!” Meresin growled. “He is mine. Do not touch him.”

  The guards stared numbly, their eyes darting between Meresin and Tabaet. His face tight, Tabaet waved the guards back.

  “It appears we have a volunteer after all,” said the orator, who looked at Tabaet. The Lord of the Arena ran his fingers across his throat. “And it appears it will be to the death. Do you both agree?”

  “I agree,” said Meresin, shrugging his massive shoulders, loosening his muscles.

  “Agreed,” I said.

  “Are you ready, little one?” Meresin chuckled. “This will not be quick, I promise you.”

  I laid my hand on the sword at my waist but did not draw it. Meresin towered over me. I realized I no longer felt any fear at the sight of him. I no longer worried whether I was Archangel or not and I didn’t care. In that moment, I knew who I was. I was Sariel. No more, no less. And if Mephistopheles still retained his power after falling so low then I still had mine. Even I hadn’t fallen as low as he. Not yet.

  I stared out at the sea of faces. A low chant began: Meresin! Meresin! It grew into a crescendo. Their faces were eager, their blood lust washed over me like a hot wave. The anger raging inside me boiled.

  They wanted a spectacle. They wanted a show.

  They would have neither.

  “Sariel, that is a pretty name,” Meresin taunted. He raised his arms at to crowd. “I enjoy killing Archangels in the arena.”

  “I am Sariel. You will learn the truth of it in a moment and it will be your last thought.”

  I turned my back on Meresin in disdain. My next action I learned from Mephistopheles, God save my immortal soul. I raised my hand and snapped my fingers.

  The Great Meresin’s neck snapped loudly. He slowly sunk to the floor before crashing in a loud heap. I wheeled around.

  Not a sound could be heard. I sensed their shock. I sensed their robbed victory. I sensed their anger.

  Good. They deserved no less.

  Several more moments passed. Then they erupted in glee. Their adoration swept over me unexpectedly. I felt buffeted by the sheer force of it. They began to chant my name, slowly at first, then loudly. I recoiled from their praise but I could not help but notice a part of myself enjoying it. The exhilaration of so many glorifying my name was intoxicating.

  I loathed them all for it.

  I swept towards Tabaet’s pavilion. The guards avoided my path. Tabaet was pale with fury.

  “When do we leave for the coliseum?” I asked.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Eight years! Eight years I’ve groomed Meresin for the Great Games and you ruined it on the eve on my triumph!” railed Tabaet.

  We stood in his trophy room once again, surrounded by his prizes. He slumped into a couch and drained his goblet before tossing it away.

  My eyes narrowed as I set my helmet down on one of the tables in the room. Tabaet’s outrage should have been more genuine but it sounded more like theatrics to me. He paused, waiting for me to fill the silence. I said nothing

  “Still, you do present an intriguing opportunity,” he said offhandedly. Again I said nothing. “Only a Seraph could have slain Meresin so easily. A newly fallen one, at that. How very rare.” He rose and poured himself another goblet of wine.

  It was obvious what Tabaet wanted. I waited impatiently for him to get to his point.

  “Do you know how many Seraphim are in the circuit?” he continued. “One. Mammon only. Hardly fair, don’t you think? Lords Lucifer and Mephistopheles keep the others in their personal retinue. It’s no wonder Mammon has gone undefeated and won the Great Games five years running. Who is strong enough to defeat him?”

  “No one. When do we leave?” I asked, hurrying his subtleties along.

  “What appeal is there for me to go to the Great Games now? I have no champion, no honor, thanks to you.” His face screwed into a thoughtful look. “Unless you take Meresin’s place.”

  Finally. “No.”

  “You obviously misled me. You didn’t tell me you were a Seraph, but I know a thing or two about them. For example, they will not speak an untruth and will keep their word once given. Give me your word that you will represent me in the great games and I’ll keep mine. We can leave as soon as you like. I’ll open a portal for you this instant.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “My dear Sariel, how could I miss such an opportunity? Do you know how long I have waited for one such as you? I’ve scoured this forsaken sphere for many years trying to find a Seraph to represent the Regent in the Great Games. Mammon has been Champion for far too long. It is time to humble him. And here you are! It must be fate. Promise to be my champion and put my interests before yours until the games are over. I will open the portal for you whenever you like. Do we have a bargain?”

  I burned with impatience and could wait no longer. “So be it,” I growled.

  * * *

  “Take this.” I held out a bag of coins to Ebriel. We stood in a darkened alley outside of the Regent Arena. Tabaet, true to his word, had opened a portal within a side room of his study. I peered through the shimmering opening, recognizing at once the Great Coliseum. I did not go through it in that moment. I had this one last errand to do before I could leave.

  “Master, it is too much.”

  “I told you not to call me that.”

  Ebriel nodded, but did not take the bag of ten thousand crowns I had won for murdering Meresin. I licked my lips, suddenly dry. Murder. That’s exactly what I had done. In all the times before when I had slain the fallen, it was in self defense. Killing Meresin was deliberate. Worse, part of me took pleasure in it.

  And it terrified me.

  Had I fallen as low as Mephistopheles? Shame filled my heart. Perhaps. And I would sink further still before my task was done, I was certain of it.

  “Here.” I shoved the bag into his hands as if it burned me. Perhaps it did. His arms gave way from the weight of it and it fell to the cobbled stone.

  “It is too much. Demons never own so much. It is dangerous for me. What am I to do with it all?”

  “Bu
ry it for all I care,” I snarled. “I don’t want to be near it.” I exhaled a long breath, getting control of myself. “Forgive me, Ebriel. I don’t know what came over me. I’ve not been myself lately.”

  “It is this place.” He looked up at me. “I remember the before times. That is how I remember my name. It is this place.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “God has left this place. Just as God has left all who dwell here. This place seeps into you. No one can live here long without feeling it, without mirroring it. It is our punishment, you see. We must dwell here and endure and feed off each other. It is our punishment.”

  “Punishment for what?”

  “I remember who I was. I used to soar in a blue sky with wings as bright as yours. Now I am trapped in this demon body. I am trapped in this place. That is what happens to us when we come back. We stay trapped until we die.”

  “How did you come here, Ebriel?” I was genuinely curious. His fate would be mine one day.

  “I was born here as a babe from a brood mother,” he answered. “Demons are born or hatched. They grow, they are captured and they are enslaved or used as food. Sometimes we remember a life from before. Sometimes not.”

  “What of the wingless?”

  “Wingless are not born. There are places like portals in this sphere where wingless just appear as if they stepped through a door. They come in, fully grown, some knowing who they were, some knowing nothing. But it doesn’t matter in the end if we are demon or wingless. We are all being punished for our past sins.”

  “I don’t understand. Punished for what?”

  “Goodbye Sariel. Stay away from this place. Go back to blue skies.” Ebriel scooped up the bag of coins and slunk away.

  I stared at his retreating form, a sense of foreboding darkening my mood. Ebriel was right, I could feel it. This place was as much alive as Mother Nature was when I channeled Her on the sixth sphere against Mephistopheles. Except here, the darker side of Nature won out and she was vile and filled with hate.