by Angela Nock
'Oh goody, the armies are assembling. You,' he said, pulling me around to face him, 'are in for the show of your life.' He shrugged, then said, 'it'll probably kill you, or at the very least blind you, but hey, what a way to go! I'll give you this at least. No human has ever seen this before...enjoy it. Whilst you can.'
'What?'
'The Great War. It's coming. Can't you feel it?' He turned to me, his eyes raging, his face contorted with maniacal excitement. 'This is what I've been waiting for.'
Chapter Sixteen
The ground beneath my feet was trembling, the air was electric. The fine hairs on my body rippled with anticipation.
'In front of us, in the black corner,' he said, pointing to the advancing dark cloud, 'we have the demons, riding in on the storm with their leader, Lucifer at the helm, and in the gold corner,' he said, pointing behind us, 'are the Heavenly hordes, with...oh, whose that?' He shielded his eyes with his hand, craning his neck to get a good view. 'That's it, yes...I can see now. Led by the Archangel Michael. Interesting…' Hyperion turned to me and smiled. 'Where is your God?'
I tried to follow where he was looking, but all I could see was a gold light that burned my eyes as I looked at it. I quickly turned away.
I had no answers for Hyperion. Where was my God?
I had fallen in love with an Angel of Death, met a fallen angel, and even spoken with Death herself, so, could I deny His existence any longer? But where was He? I hadn't seen Him, hadn't felt His presence, or the warmth of His love in my heart, therefore did that mean He didn't exist?
'I can be your God.'
'What?'
'I can be your God. I have reunited the Apocalyptic Relics.'
'What?'
'I am now God, and as God, I have great power. Soon the Great War will be fought and I will be the Supreme ruler of earth, the heavens and Hell.'
'You won't win.'
'I think, you'll find, I already have. As I have reunited the relics, I will unite these realms. As one. And I will be at its head. This cup I hold in my hand is but one of the ways that I can help you -'
'Help me?' I screeched, rounding on him, 'How can you help me? The only person that matters to me is dead because of you!' I threw myself forward and launched my fist at his face.
'Oh Evie,' he said, grabbing my wrist with his hand to stop me. I felt his hot fingers close around my skin. He snapped my wrist backwards, just enough to make it hurt and to make me stop but not to break it.
'Let's stop this nonsense. I can help you, if you listen to me…'
His voice was like honey, but I knew he was only sweetening something bitter and dark.
I stood staring at him, my heart pounding. I didn't have the energy to fight.
'This cup holds great power,' he said, holding the clay chalice up to my face. 'It might not look like much, and, I have to say, I was quite underwhelmed when I first saw it, but, you've just witnessed its power, what it can do.'
'Yes,' I said, the rain pounding at my eyes.
'Well, think what it could do if I were to pour a little of the blood into Josh's mouth…'
My heart leapt in my chest. 'It could resurrect him?'
He nodded. 'But…'
My heart smashed through my body and landed at my feet. I knew it couldn't be that easy. I knew I would have to sacrifice something. How much was I willing to sacrifice?
'But?'
'But obviously, darling Evie, this favour to you would come at a price.'
Of course, it would come at a price! 'What price?'
'Only something itsy-bitsy. A trifling thing really….'
He let his words hang in the air.
'What?'
He slipped his free hand across the back of my shoulder. 'I need to you to wound Death. Not too much, just enough to weaken her and for me to take control.'
I felt sick. 'Wound Death? How…What? I…' I couldn't get my words out. My body was shaking and in shock.
'All you need to do is take the spear from the altar over there and, whilst I keep her occupied, I need you to…spear her in the stomach,' he said, miming the action with his hand. His face was wild.
'I…Me…? How…?'
'Oh Evie, stop being so pathetic! Take control for once.'
Take control? Wound Death? I was a human. A pathetic human!
A flash of gold caught my attention in the sky. A small group of angels were coming close, ahead of the main golden host. I could see Sophia, still dressed in her khaki tee-shirt and shorts, and an old man wearing a helmet of gold and a sheathed longsword worn at the waist. Next to them was a figure I didn't recognise, obscured by a black cloak.
They landed on the ground before us, the rain bouncing off their golden auras.
'Michael,' said Hyperion, with a bow of his head, 'Sophia, and…Azra, what a pleasure.'
'I wish I could say the same,' said the old man removing his golden helmet.
'Oh Michael, don't be like that,' said Hyperion, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
'Stop this now, Hyperion' demanded Michael. He stepped forward, his feet, covered in gold sandals, sloshed across the wet and bloody ground. The bottom of his robe became stained with red and brown.
'I don't think you understand. If you hadn't noticed, it's already a bit too late.' Hyperion stepped aside and gestured at the first Apocalyptic Horseman that was now alive and fully formed. Pestilence stood before us, waiting for the command to ride out with her brothers and sisters to herald in the Divine War. She sat atop her white stallion, its mane and tail as white as virgin snow and glimmering with an ethereal light. She wore the golden crown on her head of white hair, her bronze bow and poisoned arrows slung across her back. She was dressed in a white flowing gown. She grabbed the leather reins and the horse reared up, its nostrils flaring and black eyes raging. The horse and rider looked agitated, as if they were waiting for something. The horses front hooves landed on the wet ground, sending red water spraying up into the air.
'We don't want to hurt you, Hyperion,' said Michael. I felt his voice echo inside my chest, like a lion's roar.
'Hurt me?' he replied, grasping at his chest with his hand, 'as if that is remotely possible.'
'Do as he says,' said the figure draped in the black cloak, stepping forwards.
Hyperion swept in front of her, the gold speckles in his wings glimmering in the angel-light.
'I'm impressed you came.' He reached out to touch the figure and she flinched from his touch. He reached out again and removed the hood of her cloak. She let her cloak fall. It was Death.
I took a sharp intake of breath as I took in her dishevelled appearance. I'd had glimpses of the destructive side of her, the death bringer, but I had never seen her fully as her destructive avatar. She was now little more than a skeleton, her thin white skull covered in long, thin wispy strands of hair.
'I'm glad you made an effort,' he said, with a smirk.
Azra looked away.
At that moment, I felt sorry for her, for her humiliation. For the dominance he wanted over her.
Sophia flung her hand out and batted Hyperion away from her.
'You're coming with us,' she said.
'Really? I don't think so.'
'If you don't come with us peacefully,' said Michael unsheathing his sword, 'I will be forced to kill you.' He slashed at the air and the black blade seemed to cry out and turn red.
'Starfall? Impressive,' said Hyperion, 'Your work Sophia, I presume?'
'Actually, no,' she replied. Sophia pumped her fists at the side of her body. Tension fizzed in the air.
'What is the meaning of all this?' The voice was unfamiliar, husky, and instantly calming.
'Ah, Lucifer,' said Hyperion, turning to great him, 'A little late to the party, but at least you're here now.' He stretched out his hand for Lucifer to shake. Lucifer left it hanging in the air.
Lucifer was not what I had expected; he was tall, golden-haired and utterly gorgeous, with an almost blinding luminescent aura. Tha
t's why he was called the Morning Star, Light Bringer, the first of God's angels to rebel. The two demons flanking him were in sharp contrast; the first, introduced as Buer, had a misshapen face and long incisors that protruding from fleshy lips giving him the look of a walrus. The other, Asmodeus, was colossal, towering over everyone. He had a long head of hair and a gold ring through his nose which made him look like a bull.
'Lucifer,' greeted Death and Michael.
'You assured me, Azra, that you had everything under control, that Hyperion wouldn't be allowed to reunite the relics, and yet…Here. We. Are.'
'I am here, you know,' said Hyperion, with a pout.
'Things have been complicated,' said Death.
'We're here now to stop him,' said Michael, 'things don't have to escalate any further.'
'But things already have escalated. I specifically told Azra that reuniting the relics would be seen as an act of war. War is now unavoidable. My dominions have spoken.'
'Well, all this talking is a bit boring, isn't it? Maybe you should just get on with it,' said Hyperion.
'Can't you see that's what he wants?' asked Death.
'If you allow us a few more moments, we can bring this to a peaceful conclusion. There is no need for war,' said Michael.
'I'm afraid there are grounds for war,' said Hyperion. Suddenly, moving with a speed that shouldn't have been possible, he'd launched himself at Michael. He seized the sword from Michael's right hand and at the same time pushed him back with his right shoulder. Michael released the sword and fell backwards, ploughing into Sophia. Hyperion spun around, and in a fluid movement had thrown Starfall. The sword screamed as it flew through the air in a flash of red. It plunged into Buer's left eye, killing him instantly. Buer fell to the ground, the look of shock still on his face. Then he slowly crumbled into nothing.
'HYPERION!' screamed Lucifer, his face contorted with rage.
Death flung her hands to head and began to pull at her wispy grey hair. 'What have you done?' she screeched, chunks of hair coming away like chunks of candy floss. She looked wretched, her eyes desolate.
'Evie,' shouted Hyperion, 'if you would be so kind?'
I looked at him. What? What was I supposed to do? I was just a silly little human in the middle of something too colossal to comprehend. What on earth could I do?
I caught sight of Josh's body lying broken on the floor, blood oozing from the wound where his wing had been torn out. I remembered; if I could get the spear and kill Death, he could be resurrected.
Everything seemed to stop around me. Time ceased to exist for that brief moment as I looked at the spear. I could finish this. I wasn't a silly little girl. I had the power.
I took a deep breath, turned and launched myself at the spear, blood still dripping from its black head. The Book of Solomon lay open next to it, the knowledge of all heaven and earth within my grasp. I grabbed the wooden shaft. It felt like electric in my hand as its power undulated and stung my skin. I held on tight despite the pain as it fought me. I snapped around, raised my arm in the air and let it go.
The spear flew through the air, its path straight and true. It seemed to sing as it glided through the confusion of angels and demons. I heard the neigh of a horse. Then all noise stopped as if the whole universe had taken a sharp intake of breath.
The spear found its target. It hit Hyperion in the stomach. He wrapped his hand around the shaft and looked at me with a mixture of horror, shock and disbelief. Great shafts of light began to stream out from the wound, growing in intensity. Something moved to the side of me. It jumped in front of me and pushed me to the floor. Everything went black as Hyperion exploded like a supernova. I could still see the flash of light penetrate through the black that had surrounded me.
Then everything went quiet.
Dead.
Still.
Like the beginning of the world.
Or the end of time.
Chapter Seventeen
Everything was dark. But I couldn't tell if the darkness was within me or separate from me. It undulated and oozed as if it were alive and yet, I didn't feel alive. I couldn't feel anything. I was numb.
Water. I could hear water. A stream, maybe? The sound was stronger now, more a tumbling cascade. A waterfall?
I opened my eyes slowly. My eyelids were sticky, my mind scrambling to make sense of what was happening, and what had happened. I couldn't grasp it. I was stuck in a moment with no past, and no idea of where I was in the present.
I was lying on grass, a verdant green carpet that smelled of earth and freshly mown lawn. I dug my hands into it, feeling the soft blades between my fingers as they sunk into the damp earth. My skin was covered in a fine layer of water like I'd been walking in drizzle, or had been sitting in a sauna, except that the air was neither warm nor cold.
I sat up.
I was in a wide valley full of ash and blackthorn and oaks, an unusually large moon hanging low at one end, framed perfectly by the steep grassy slopes. The moon's ethereal light fractured upon the surface of the fast-flowing stream which thundered through the middle of the vale. The stream continued to the edge of the earth where it plunged off into nothingness. Behind me, a waterfall crashed down from sheer grey cliffs, a semi-circular moon-bow, rising up from the spray at its base, shimmered in the ghostly twilight.
I didn't recognise the place. I'd never been there before, not with my father, or Josh or anyone, of that I was sure, and yet, there was something familiar about it, something comforting that stripped me of any fear I should've had.
I felt at peace. Neither warm nor cold. Neither here or there.
But something began to nibble at the peace. Something nipped at the back of my mind. I was sure that there was something…something that I was supposed to remember, something I was supposed to be doing but I couldn't quite get it.
'Evelyn.' The voice came out of the twilight as if the strange light that coated the place was talking to me. I recognised the voice at once. Relief swept over me. I smiled. My body relaxed.
'Am I dead?'
'Not yet,' said Death stepping out from behind her curtain of invisibility. She was beautiful; willowy, with long black hair topped with a crown of holly and mistletoe and dressed in a simple shift of white linen.
'What is this place?' I felt no fear, only curiosity, like a small child in the Garden of the Hesperides.
'Does it matter?' Death glided towards me, her hand outstretched. She hesitated before she stroked my cheek. Her hand was icy cold, but her touch was almost motherly and full of warmth.
I suddenly felt vulnerable, like she was stripping my clothes and flesh away and was exposing what was truly inside me. I wanted to collapse into her arms and run away, all at the same time. Her hand lingered on my skin. Instinctively, I reached up and placed my trembling fingers over hers.
'Evie.' There was another voice calling to me, one I hadn't heard since I was very young. I pictured my father, before he was ill, holding me tight when I was afraid, woken by nightmares in the night. It was my father's voice. Soft and gentle and soothing.
Tears streamed down my face and I was torn between a deep aching sadness and an ecstatic happiness.
'Purgatory. This is purgatory,' I said.
'Yes. And no.'
I was so close to being with my father again, and that filled my heart with joy.
'You're not ready for that,' she said as if reading my thoughts, 'not yet.'
My heart shattered inside my chest.
'It's not your time to die.'
I looked away from her black eyes.
She grabbed my chin and forced me to look at her. 'You have so much potential,' she said, with a warmth that both comforted and terrified me, 'so much left to do. Time to -'
'I don't want it. I…'
'But what about Josh? Don't you want to see him?'
Josh? How could I have forgotten about him?
'He's dead,' I said. I wanted to be dead too.
'No. No, he's not.'<
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'What? How? Where is he? Is he safe?' I looked around, searching for him.
Death laughed.
'He's fine. For now…but he hasn't much time left.'
'After everything he's…we've done? Why? Why does he have to die? Take me,' I said, offering her my wrists.
'Oh Evie,' she said, cupping my face in her hands, 'it's not your time. It never was your time.'
'What do you mean?' I wiped the tears and snot away with the cuff of my hoodie.
'When you jumped, you weren't going to die. It wasn't your time. Josh was always the one fated to die. It was never you.'
'But…' I said, looking at her through the veil of my tears.
She flung her arms around me and pulled me close to her. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered into my ear, 'you have to understand, I had to do it. I had to make him think that you were going to die, it was the only way to get him to help.'
I withdrew from her arms. 'You played him.'
'Yes. And I'm sorry. It was the only way. You have to believe me.'
I took a step backwards, away from her.
'You and Josh have something special -'
I flung my hand out to stop her. 'Don't!'
'It's called Samsara.'
'Samsara?' That word…I'd heard it before…
'Samsara, is the special connection you and Josh have.'
I stared at her black eyes, trying to work out if this was truth or some other crappy manipulation tactic. She held my stare, but it wasn't cold or calculating or defiant, more pleading with me to understand.
'It's very rare. Every now and again there are two souls that are so connected, so in love, that they cannot be destroyed. The soul cannot rest and falls through the cracks of time to be reborn again, fated to wander the earth, through time, through death upon death, searching for each other. Sometimes the souls miss each other; one is born too late, or too early, or they just don't end up in the same place, but they know they're out there, somewhere. They can feel it; a deep, aching longing for something, someone, that they can't quite put their finger on. A need that they can't quite satisfy.'
