Heaven's Night

by Harry Aderton

  “How is that possible?” Dirael’s voice was tight with fear. “I thought you said they couldn’t move between spheres.”

  “Lucifer found a way. Let us go back.”

  I wheeled and raced back towards the fortress. Shoel, I pulsed. Lucifer has amassed an army of demons.

  I would have never suspected, but it makes sense, he pulsed back. Why risk fallen lives when demon lives are so numerous? With the fallen stationed above us, we must maintain our defensive posture in a protective shield formation. A ground assault is not something we were prepared to face.

  As I neared the fortress, rank upon rank of Cherubim emerged from the shield formation. Thousands were at the ready, armed with bow and javelin.

  Shoel floated at the fore along with Zaphiel the Seraph. Zaphiel, like his brother, Haniel, was adorned in golden armor and helm. I pulled alongside them.

  The demon horde came into view. Their wails and shrieks filled the night; the drumming of their feet like rolling thunder.

  “Cherubim, forward!” cried Zaphiel.

  As one, the Cherubim surged forward in formation. Nearing the horde, they separated into smaller groups in perfect unison. They maneuvered through the air, spinning and wheeling gracefully. And as they banked, they unleashed a hail of missiles.

  Groups of demons fell in mid-stride, tumbling and spinning. Great tears opened within the horde as if they were fabric being ripped apart. More arrows and javelins fell, shredding the demons in an endless barrage, entire sections melted away.

  The Cherubim soared gracefully in intertwining and concentric circles. I would have never expected something so beautiful, so graceful, to be so deadly. The rain of death was ceaseless.

  Winged demons broke off to engage the Cherubim. Small pockets of intense fighting broke out. Some demons leapt impossibly high, dragging a Cherubim down into the madness.

  But still the rain of missiles fell. The horde was in tatters. A cheer rose through the ranks of angels behind me. I wanted to cheer with them.

  Abruptly the cheering stopped.

  The horde that the Cherubim destroyed was merely the vanguard. The main horde came into view. Tens upon tens of thousands hurtled towards us.

  They merged with the vanguard. The Cherubim continued to twirl and spiral, delivering more death, but any gaping holes sealed within moments as the horde pressed forward mindlessly, inevitably, towards the fortress. Their thunderous approach and angry roars overpowered all other sound.

  The horde was unstoppable. Numbly I stared at the encroaching wave of darkness. They would storm our walls in moments. The Cherubim would not be able to hold them back.

  It was my turn.

  * * *

  I whipped the reins and my chariot launched forward. I extended my hands at my sides and concentrated on the ground beneath the horde. “Rise!” I commanded.

  The earth trembled and heaved. Great fissures opened up in the ground. The horde did not slow. Demons toppled and spilled into the forming holes but still they pressed on.

  I lifted my arms. The earth groaned as if giving birth. A ridge a mile wide like a growing wall of earth and rock ponderously rose from the ground. And as it rose, it sucked in the earth before it to give itself height and strength, creating enormous sinkholes. These widened and joined together until a great canyon formed, like a mighty gash cut into the earth’s flesh.

  My arms trembled from the infinite weight of the heaving earth. I gritted my teeth against the pain. Intense burning ripped through my arms, my legs. My neck bulged and my back arched. I thought my heart would burst.

  Never had I attempted so much alone. Even when storming Mephistopheles’ stronghold on the fourth sphere, I had help from Mother Nature. Back then I had been the instrument of Her just and mighty vengeance.

  Not so now.

  This sphere was yet whole and I could not persuade Nature in such a fashion. I had tried. She was impartial to my pleas, to us all.

  Only my will and any prana I could muster would sustain me this day. And I weakened quickly.

  The demons screamed. Their charge faltered. They tried to stop from toppling into the great canyon but the horde pressing in from behind sent them pouring into the abyss.

  I raised my arms higher and cried out in pain. The monolithic ridge rose to the height of the fortress walls itself.

  I began to sweep my arms forward, willing the giant crest to crash over the horde and bury them. I would send these poor creatures back into the depths from which they came.

  My arms stopped abruptly, immobile. Suddenly I was snatched from my chariot as if by a mighty hand and hurled to the ground. The earth burst beneath me, splitting outwards. Like a rag doll I was scooped up again, lifted high, and smashed down a second time. The ground cratered under me. But the downward pressure did not lessen when I hit the surface the second time. Instead, a terrible force ground me into the earth, into the dirt and rock until I was submerged under the soil.

  My disorientation turned to fury. Quickly I righted myself and flexed, breaking the grip that seized me. With a kick of my legs I blasted upwards out of the earth, wings flaring.

  The cresting wall I had erected was gone. It had been returned back into the earth to fill the canyon. Already the demonic horde raced across the broken and uneven ground towards the city.

  I knew who thwarted me. His name came unbidden to my lips.

  “Mephistopheles!” I cried out in white-hot rage. I thought I could hear his laughter echo in the corners of my mind.

  The horde surged onward. I drew my flaming sword and dove forward, skimming low across the ground and raced towards them. My attack would be less obtrusive then before and perhaps Mephistopheles would have more difficulty striking me if I were a moving target.

  I willed the flame of my sword to extend outward a hundred feet. A gout of fire burst forth from my sword with a tremendous hiss. I shouted my rage as I swept my blade from side-to-side, the whip of fire lashing out in long, languid sweeps. Those caught in its path erupted in flame, their screams curdling. I extended the length of my fire-whip even further to two hundred feet, then five hundred. Burning demons, mad with pain, raced into one another.

  Onward I drove through them, the fiery tongue lashing in wide, sweeping arcs. I left swaths of cut and burning demons behind me like fields of wheat downed by a scythe. Charred flesh rent the air. Smoking black husks toppled with my passing and burst into cinders and ash. Thousands died as I plowed through them mercilessly.

  It would only be a matter of moments before Mephistopheles struck again. I increased my efforts, waiting for the inevitable.

  But to my surprise, he didn’t strike. He didn’t need to. The horde had reached the fortress walls. I had slowed them, but not nearly enough. There were far too many.

  The fortress walls cracked abruptly, chunks breaking away. Mephistopheles’ will was at work again.

  I raced towards the fortress walls. I gathered my will and forced the fractures, the crumbling walls, to hold together. It did. I poured more of my strength into it to heal the walls, fix the broken fractures.

  Mephistopheles resisted me. I increased my focus. His will hardened like iron against mine. Our wills wrestled, neither side relenting. We were equally matched. I felt as if my head would burst from the strain of it.

  But the damage was already done. The demons began to climb, thousands of them, using the cracks and crumbling pockets of stones as footholds and handholds.

  Zaphiel was already there with his Cherubim, engaging the horde as they climbed. Like a colony of ants the horde swarmed up the fortress walls. With javelins and a hail of arrows the Cherubim tore into the climbing demons. Demons fell by the hundreds, taking those beneath them down as well. But always were there more to replace them.

  The Cherubim emptied their quivers and javelins into the horde, and when their missiles ran out, drew their swords and engaged hand-to-hand. The demons seized on the opportunity and unexpectedly launched themselves from the walls at the hat
ed Cherubim. They screamed their glee as they sprung, grappling angels, and dragging dozens of them downwards.

  “Fall back!” cried Zaphiel. But the Cherubim could not retreat in time. Ranks fell by the score, pulled to the ground where the demons tore them apart amidst wails of laughter and gnashing of teeth.

  Zaphiel roared his fury and raced along the outside wall, scraping demons off the stone surface with his shield as if it were a spatula scraping porridge off the side of a pot. “Shoel, we need support!” he cried.

  In response, a lower section of the dome formation melted and moved towards the walls. These were the Principalities of the Guardian class and their discipline shone. They flew in a swift but tight formation, agile, compactly woven, and bristling with spears. They smashed into the demons clinging to the walls. The demons tried the same tactic as they had against the Cherubim, launching themselves from the wall to drag them down. Any that tried was impaled ruthlessly.

  My battle of wills with Mephistopheles abruptly ended as he pulled away. Alarm seized me. Where had he gone to? I couldn’t sense him in the ether. Fear gripped me, wondering where he would strike next.

  But my attention was drawn to the endless demons pressed tightly against the fortress walls. They began to rise like an angry sea surging up. They were clambering over the bodies of the dead, rising higher and higher, threatening to crest the fortress battlements.

  I rose into the air, focused my will, and stretched my wings back as far as they would go before snapping them forward with all my strength. The gust from the clap of my wings hit the demons in a surging blast of air, punching hundreds from their feet.

  They sailed up and backwards. Again I beat my wings, and again a tremendous gust of wind burst into them, sending hundreds more flying, forcing them away. A dozen more blasts from my wings tore into the horde, and they began to scatter like leaves in a storm.

  Mephistopheles struck me just then. Lightning shattered the sky and it ripped through me. My body crumpled and I plummeted to the ground. More lightning split the sky, pounding into me. Again and again it struck, blow after blow, as if I were a piece of iron under a smithy’s hammer.

  The lightning ceased. Electricity sizzled in the air. The ground smoldered around me. Smoke and heat rose in waves. Chunks of blackened glass lay scattered. I lay on my back, my breastplate glowed like an ember and seared into my chest.

  I groaned and turned over in a daze.

  The horde swarmed over me.

  I was carried away like a stone in an avalanche. Feet kicked and trampled. Teeth bit into my astral flesh and claws shredded my skin. My wings were pulled at impossible angles and felt as if they would rip apart.

  “Enough!” I cried, exploding to my feet. Demons scattered in all directions. “Stay away from me!” I cried, gathering all my will, and pushed them with all my pent up rage.

  It wasn’t a single push, focused on a single demon. Nor was it focused on ten, or even a hundred. I pushed them all.

  I shoved them hard, away from our city, away from me. Like a mighty arm sweeping everything off a table, so did the demonic horde sweep away from the city’s walls. They tumbled along the ground – flipping, spinning, broken, and lifeless. Once in motion, I pushed and kept on pushing the horde as far as I could.

  Mephistopheles appeared for the first time, nothing more than a glowing figure in the far distance like a dim star in the night’s sky. Rage poured from him. He hovered over the demonic horde I had shoved a quarter of a mile away.

  I felt power surge from him and he flared like a red sun. To my horror, the energies began to revive the horde, heal them. He cocooned them in weaves of energy that sustained them and strengthened them. I felt his tug on their minds to rise, return to the fortress, and tear down the city. They began to lumber my way.

  I couldn’t let them get close. Not again.

  “Stop!” I shouted, a thunderous crack that split the heavens. All demons ceased movement as if paralyzed. Exactly as I willed.

  Instantly I felt Mephistopheles’ will grapple with mine to release them. Pain lanced through my skull. My head snapped back and I gritted my teeth. At that moment, in my weakened state, he was stronger than I. We both knew it. It was only a matter of moments before his will overpowered mine.

  I blinked furiously, focusing on Mephistopheles, the glow from him so bright it reflected off the mountains behind him.

  I had to stop him, I wouldn’t get another chance.

  I sharply intensified my hold on the demons. As expected, Mephistopheles countered me and increased his will. Just as quickly, I released my hold.

  Mephistopheles mentally stumbled as if he pushed against a wall that wasn’t there. In that moment, he was disoriented. And vulnerable.

  I refocused my will and concentrated on the largest mountain peak in the distance. Gathering all of my remaining strength, I imagined lifting the mountain as if I lifted a massive boulder and heaved.

  I screamed in agony and my back nearly broke from the strain. Pain flooded my body. But my concentration did not falter, my will did not break. The mountain rose.

  Mephistopheles felt what I had done. I sensed his fear. He looked up.

  The mountain fell on top of him from the sky.

  Down it came in a deafening crash. Dust and debris exploded from the impact. Countless demons were buried under endless tons of rock.

  A concussion blast swelled from the impact, flattening everything in its path. Like angry, rolling thunderclouds the blast swept towards me. I ducked my head.

  Demons were knocked down and blown away like sand in a windstorm. The Cherubim and Principalities moved quickly to shelter behind the mighty fortress walls. The blast radiated outwards smashing boulders into the walls like catapult fire. Great sections crumbled and fell. Any demon or angel unprotected was scattered to the four winds. All lay in shambles.

  I blinked and my eyes stung from the whipping dust. I stared numbly at the total destruction I had wrought. My head swam.

  I toppled forward into darkness.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  “He’s hurt. Can’t you see that?”

  “But he’s Archangel. How can he be hurt?”

  “He’s Archangel in power and might, Dirael. He’s fallen in every other way. He’s attached to his body now. If his body fails him, he will die. I’m surprised he was able to withstand so much abuse. One lightning strike may not have killed him but several should have. He endured dozens and still managed to hold them off. I don’t know why he’s still with us.”

  “We have to help him!”

  “What do you think I’m doing? Now stand aside and let me work.”

  Voices drifted through my consciousness. I floated above a haze of pain. I knew that if I descended into that haze, I could not endure the agony. So I stayed above it.

  All was dark save for an orb of light in the sky like a pale moon. It shimmered and glowed. It radiated peace and warmth and I felt as if I floated on the evening tide of a warm, sun kissed sea.

  “I can’t bring him back.”

  “But we need him!”

  I heard the words but they held no meaning. Other sounds filtered in as well; soft weeping, thunderclaps, distant roaring. I shut them all out and simply drifted. I felt at peace and I did not want it to end.

  “Let me try. Sariel, please my love. You have to come back to us. We need you. I need you.”

  Requel. My Requel. Love blossomed in my heart. For her I would do anything. For her, I would endure the …

  A scream ripped from my lips. My skin, my bones, my limbs felt as if they were on fire. My muscles recoiled from the sheer anguish and trembled uncontrollably.

  A gentle hand touched my forehead. “Be at peace, Archangel. Be at peace,” said Avenel.

  The pain eased. I inhaled deeply as the torment subsided.

  My eyes fluttered open. Requel gazed down on me, clasping my hands in hers. For the briefest moment I was transported
back to the primordial. Her face was different, but the eyes, the love, were the same.

  “I thought I lost you,” she said. She had been weeping. She kissed the back of my hand.

  “Not yet, my love. I am here.” I tried to sit up. She pressed me back down gently.

  “Here, drink.” She held a cup to my lips.

  I sipped the crystalline water lightly at first, then swallowed greedily. My mouth and throat were coated in dust.

  Dirael stood to one side, relief on his face. Avenel sat on a chair beside me. I still felt her healing touch upon my forehead. I gazed around the room. I lay on a couch in Iobel’s study.

  “What of the battle?” I croaked after a moment.

  “It rages,” said Dirael. “The fallen are bombarding us with catapult and ballistae fire.”

  “And the demons?”

  “Destroyed, as far as we can tell. We cleaned up what was left.”

  “I must return to battle.”

  “And you shall, but you may want to rest a few moments first,” said Avenel.

  I sat up, my head swam. “No time.”

  Requel threw me a concerned look. “Sariel, listen to her. Please.”

  I stretched, my limbs protesting madly. I longed for nothing more than to lie down once again. I stood up instead and held onto a bookcase for support. “You don’t understand. Mephistopheles, Lucifer, the others, they’re all too strong. Only I can hold them off.”

  “None of your brethren have showed themselves since you dropped a mountain in our midst,” said Avenel.

  “How long was I unconscious?” I asked.

  “Two hours, maybe longer. We’ve been trying to revive you since.”

  I closed my eyes and willed prana back into my body. It gave me strength but at a slow trickle. Still, it helped. I felt it flowing from the ether all around me.

  “Ethereal prana won’t sustain you for very long, only rest and healing can do that now,” said the wizened angel. “Your will is mighty but you’re limited by your astral body. You’ll have to tread carefully. It has been through quite a bit.”

  Her words troubled me but I did not show it. “I’ll manage.”