by J F Cain
Lyla huffed with agitated impatience. Where in blazes were the Exorcists? Minutes had passed and they were still nowhere to be seen. Maybe the Source is punishing her and Abaddon for what they’re doing, she thought spitefully and turned to look at the Dark Angel.
After summoning a few more Demons to keep him busy, she ordered even more to appear to draw the Guardians away from the Superior. One of the Demons who answered her summons materialized behind Aranes and reached out to grab her, but didn’t succeed. Abriel appeared behind him, stabbed him in the back and, fast as lightning, disappeared again.
Abaddon saw it happen as he was fighting. So did Lyla, who was so aghast she only sensed the Dark Angel attack her at the last moment. She barely managed to parry his fierce attack. Wounded as she was, she couldn’t meet him head on and inwardly cursed Abriel, who instead of watching over her, was watching over Aranes. Abaddon drove her into the wall and with a powerful thrust he flung her sword up into the air. He moved his other sword quickly to stab her in the chest before she could disappear, but Abriel’s sword struck his own and held it low.
Abaddon recognized the entity that had prevented a Demon from grabbing Aranes just a moment ago.
“And who are you, exactly?” he asked, his brow creasing with curiosity.
“The protector of weak beings,” Abriel replied obscurely.
Abaddon didn’t know the entity or the reason why he had helped Aranes. He didn’t look like a Demon, but since he was protecting Lyla, he assumed he must be, and experience had proved that their kind helped Aranes only because they were after her themselves. That was reason enough for him to lift his sword and charge Abriel. The battle-hardened fallen reacted quickly and parried while retreating to draw him away from Lyla.
The two commanders began to duel with the skill and intensity characteristic of clashes between higher-ranking Ethereals. Fast as lightning, the swords came together and flew apart, drowning out all the other sounds of battle and death that filled the chamber. Abaddon was in hurry to get rid of the newcomer and go back to Lyla. But Abriel was agilely evading the red blades ripping the air around him like a menacing storm. Totally focused on the Dark Angel, he managed to deflect his attacks in time, but didn’t look for any weakness in his opponent’s defense that would give him the chance to wound him.
With a smug smile on her face, Lyla stood there enjoying the sight of the two fighters—Abriel was in love with her after all, but she would have preferred it if Abaddon was after her for sex and not to destroy her. When she remembered why she was there, she turned to see how the battle was progressing.
It seemed to be a done deal. Her comrades had surrounded Eiael, Fares, and the few remaining Guardians who had gathered around Aranes. As the ring around the earthly warriors tightened, flashes of white light appeared between the two warring groups, positioned equidistant from each other so that they formed a symmetrical circle around the Guardians. In the blink of an eye, the ethereal light lengthened and then faded, absorbed by the bodies of the seven materialized Exorcists. They stood there expressionlessly and looked at the Demons with their eerily glinting parti-colored eyes—one black and one blue. Their sudden appearance surprised the Ethereals, who stopped fighting.
Both female and male Exorcists wore black pants, long jackets, and dark coats on which metal breastplates and pauldrons were strapped. The only one different was a wiry dark-haired man without any protective armor, who only wore a pair of baggy black pants and a loose button-down shirt. The expression of his face was one of self-possessed coldness, but the intensity in his slanted eyes was frightening.
“Damn!” cursed Lyla. “They’re late, but they came.”
As soon as they materialized in the chamber, the Exorcists crossed their hands in front of their hips and began to chant in an unknown language.
“Devani ome aoria, hil emau aney sar. Semani kal yse morke.”
Some Demons tried to reach them but couldn’t. Their bodies had become heavy as lead, their feet were glued to the floor, and they weren’t able to move their arms. Seeing their weakness, Lyla summoned the best she had at her disposal, ordering them to attack the Exorcists at once before they succumbed to the effects of the paralyzing chants. But no one obeyed. Her comrades in Eregkal were watching what was happening in the Guardians’ sanctum and felt that the battle had already been decided.
As soon as Lyla realized that they had abandoned her, she was overcome with rage and fear. She saw her plan coming to nothing and, even though she was more powerful than the other Demons, she had also started to feel the effects of the Exorcists’ repeated spells. She tried to think on her feet about what to do next, but her limited intellect didn’t help her and the only thing she could do was divide her bewildered attention between Abriel—who was still unaffected by the chants and continued to duel with Abaddon—and her comrades, hoping one of them would get rid of the Exorcists for her.
She took heart when she saw a Demon move his hand. Growling through gritted teeth, the fiendish Ethereal managed to raise his arm with great effort and hurl his sword at the Exorcist closest to him. The ethereal weapon penetrated the invisible protective barrier created by the Demons’ persecutors and pierced the chest of the unearthly being. Without a trace of emotion on his face, the Exorcist fell to his knees and then to his side. The ethereal weapon dematerialized and a column of white energy slowly emerged from his chest wound. It slowly whirled out of the body and dispersed in the earthly atmosphere.
As the soul that animated the occupied body returned to the plane befitting its actions on Earth, the rest of the Exorcists, undeterred, continued to utter the chants that would expel the dark Ethereals from the physical plane. Another Demon who had no intention of giving up his goal of a high-ranking position in Eregkal without a fight concentrated all his power in one hand. Groaning from the mighty effort he was making, he passed his hand through the protective wall, lengthened it and grabbed a female Exorcist by the throat. His palm became enveloped with dark energy which flowed into her to force her to stop chanting the spells. But because the Demon had become significantly weakened, he didn’t succeed. She went on, even though she was in pain.
Affected by the chants, the particles in the Demons’ symbiotic armor began to move frenziedly. Their supernatural protection began to tear in different places and the stench of dark Ethereals burning permeated the chamber. With fierce growls, they left the sanctum to save themselves.
Abriel disappeared from in front of Abaddon and the very next instant appeared beside Lyla.
“It’s time to go,” he told her and gripped her arm, still holding his sword and focusing on Abaddon, who also vanished in his pursuit.
Lyla aimed a look filled with hatred at Aranes and disappeared with Abriel. Abaddon appeared in the same spot, but his sword swiped through air, scattering the remnants of the two Ethereals’ energy.
The Dark Angel cursed inwardly and absorbed his swords into his palms. As soon as his hands were empty, he felt moisture on his left palm. He looked down curiously and saw a small wound which was bleeding slightly. It looked like a burn or a wound from an ethereal weapon. But even if one of his adversaries had wounded him, it would have been impossible for them to do it in that spot. He quickly clenched his hand into a fist and looked bewilderedly at the Exorcists. They stopped their polyphonic melodious chant, turned to Aranes, and bowed wordlessly. The Guardians’ gazes fell on their dead comrades, who lay on the floor in their blood-soaked white clothes and armor, their staring eyes reflecting the rigidity of death.
Abaddon glanced at the silent battlefield as he hurried to Aranes’ side.
“Are you alright?” he asked, gripping her arms. He quickly scanned her body and the baby to make sure that neither of them had been hurt. When he looked up, he caught the wiry Chinese man’s cold gaze flitting between his partner’s swollen belly and him. Now even the Exorcists know, he thought and withdrew his hands.
“Yes, I’m fine, Aranes replied worriedly. “But the Guar
dians …” She looked away from the mournful sight of the dead warriors and looked the black-clad man in the eye. “Kadu, why were you so late?” she asked, a trace of sternness in her voice.
“Superior, their actions were concealed,” the head of the Exorcists explained with icy formality that betrayed his lack of emotion. “I don’t know how that happened. We came as soon as we sensed it.”
Aranes realized that the demonic presences had been hidden by the Source. She wondered if It wanted to make things difficult for Abaddon so that he would develop his physical and spiritual powers, or if this was part of Its greater plan involving him.
“Very well. I thank you for your help,” she replied with the same formality.
The Exorcists bowed.
“We live to serve,” they said as one and disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.
Aranes lowered her gaze to the dead Guardians once again, but from the corner of her eye she saw Abaddon tilt his head to the side questioningly. Nevertheless, he didn’t ask who had covered the Demons’ presence or why she had dismissed the Exorcists so hurriedly.
Eiael, who was counting her order’s losses, turned to the Dark Angel.
“Perhaps you should take the Superior to your room,” she suggested with a calmness that seemed odd, given the situation.
Abaddon didn’t answer. He just nodded and replaced his armor with the clothes he had been wearing before the attack.
“Come, let’s go,” he said to Aranes, sliding his arm around her shoulders.
She shot a final sorrowful glance at the dead and let him guide her to the exit. Before they passed through the sanctum’s iron door, a drop of blood rolled down Abaddon’s fist and fell to the floor without him noticing.
Eiael, who had been watching the celestial couple depart, watched in shock as the blood fell to the stone floor. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply to control the fear that surged unbidden inside her. That single drop had rattled her more than the pool of blood under her feet.
It was only to be expected, she thought, feeling the icy grip of looming danger clench her heart.
When Abriel and Lyla returned to her headquarters, none of the Demons who had been waiting for her summons just a short while ago were there. They had both got rid of their symbiotic armor and she was staring sourly at the deep wound on her arm.
“I hope you get it now,” Abriel said scathingly.
“Oh, leave me alone!” she snapped without looking at him.
The Sorcerer sighed heavily.
“Lyla, don’t you see? Lucifer is using you. That’s why he isn’t interfering. He knows that you can’t get her.”
The stubborn Succubus lifted her head and glared at him.
“Well, fuck him! He’s got some surprises in store for him then, doesn’t he?”
Abriel’s scowl showed that her stupidity was getting on his nerves.
“To defeat someone, you have to know how they think, and you have no idea what makes the Celestials or their allies on Earth tick,” he said bluntly. “They don’t abandon their comrades in battle. They care about and support each other. Their selfless love gives them strength.”
“You admire them!” Lyla realized with surprise that quickly became distaste. “What kind of Demon are you?”
“I’m fallen, and I’m not enjoying it at all,” he replied icily.
“Abriel, beware. What you’re telling me could cost you your existence,” said Lyla with a pointed look.
Ungratefulness and stupidity were an outrageous combination, even for someone as patient as the fallen commander. He approached her, stopping a hairsbreadth away from her, and pinned her with a cold gaze she had never before seen in his eyes.
“I don’t really care about risking this type of existence. But I don’t think it’s in your interests to lose an ally like me.”
Lyla couldn’t afford to show how the outright threat offended her.
“I know your power, but how can I trust you when we don’t have the same goals?” she asked more gently.
Abriel didn’t appreciate her willingness to ease the tension between them.
“Believe me, sweetheart, our goals are the same. It’s only our desires that differ,” he scoffed and disappeared.
Lyla was left alone, with the impression that he no longer desired her but was helping her for another reason.
CHAPTER 19
Heavy gray clouds covered the December morning sky. A northerly wind rustled the leaves of the evergreen oaks standing proudly at the back of the castle, in defiance of passing time and physical changes such as death, which had once more spread its mournful veil over the Guardian stronghold.
The frigid wind stirred the white cloaks of the theurgist warriors as they stood with their swords aslant against their protective cuirasses. Around two hundred Guardians were lined up two-deep around a large square dais. On it lay the bodies of twenty-two Guardians wrapped in white shrouds. Interspersed among them, at chest level, were their upright swords, their points lodged in the stone. On each of the four corners of the dais stood the statue of a phoenix gripping the dais with its talons, its large wings spread wide and its head lifted up. Golden blue flames shot from the phoenixes’ beaks and wove their way up to the sky, unaffected by the gusts of wind that struggled to prevail.
In front of the lined up Guardians stood Eiael in the same cloak as the rest of her order, flanked by the two Celestials. On her left, Aranes, wrapped in a white cape and pale with exhaustion, was gazing at the bodies and blessing the souls that had resided in them until the day before. On the other side of the Guardian leader, Abaddon stood in his angelic form, resplendent in his armor, to honor the brave warriors who had sacrificed their lives for his partner’s safety.
Eiael raised her bent arms, palms facing upwards, and lifted her gaze to the sky. In a strong, commanding voice that rose above the low moan of the wind and the hissing fire, she offered a prayer for the repose of the departed.
“Eternal Source, everything was created through You and returns to You. Please welcome the souls of Your earthly warriors at Your side, in the position that befits them so that they may continue their battle against darkness. May Your Truth prevail throughout.”
As she lowered her arms, the Guardians went down on one knee and extended their swords in front of them as one.
“Arem omesh genim ome roal!” they cried in one voice.
Their magical weapons burst into flames as if something had detonated inside them. The stone phoenix statues seemed to come to life and, as they lowered their heads, the golden blue fire coming out of their mouths flared up and enveloped the bodies of the dead Guardians.
The tongues of fire flickered in Eiael’s gray eyes, which held not sorrow, but her characteristic strength that made them resemble two clear shards of ice. The head of the Guardians had grown up in the castle and had become accustomed to death from a young age. She knew that human life progressed along an imaginary line of doubtful reality that faded into the depths of invisibility, where the timeless held eternal power. To her, death was merely the transition from one form of existence to another, which was why she wasn’t upset about her comrades who were moving on to the spiritual dimension. Alric and Jean had been the only exceptions, as the fear she was feeling right now about the Superior’s safety and the Dark Angel’s evolution was an exception. About the latter, she could do nothing, no matter how much she wanted to. But as for the Superior’s safety, she would do everything in her power to ensure it.
She turned to look at Aranes.
“Your presence has greatly honored my comrades, but there is no reason for you to remain here in the cold. Why don’t you go inside?” she said tenderly.
Abaddon agreed with her, but didn’t say a word. He had already expressed his objections to his partner when she had told him he would have to stand on the theurgist’s right. That meant he hadn’t been able to protect her from the cold by keeping her inside his warm aura. If he had extended his energy field to encomp
ass her, he would have had to cover Eiael too, who had been standing between them, and because he didn’t know if the theurgist could somehow read the information written in his personal energy field, he thought it best to avoid it.
“Yes, you’re right,” he heard Aranes tell Eiael. She then leaned forward to look at him. “I’ll see you later,” she told him in a tired voice.
Abaddon interpreted her words as “you, my love, must stay here.” He nodded and turned back to the blazing dais. He was in total agreement that he had to honor the fallen warriors who had helped him. Besides, that didn’t stop him from watching over Aranes. He considered leaving behind his physical form and following her with his ethereal. But he ruled out the bright idea at once. Eiael would probably realize it, but if his partner realized it too, she wouldn’t appreciate his concern. As she had told him the night before, it would be a while before Lyla found new ethereal allies willing to risk their existence.
Aranes passed through the rows of kneeling Guardians and entered the castle through the back entrance. She walked through the long hallway with the bronze sconces fixed to the oak paneling, went past the entrance hall and climbed up to the second floor. When she entered her room, she sat down in an armchair near the lit fireplace without taking off her cape and stretched out her hands toward the fire. She was tired and cold. The previous night she had been present practically throughout the whole wake, and the few hours she had come up to her room to rest she had spent thinking about how to avoid another bloodshed. Because Guardian deaths may not be uncommon, but every time even one of them died, it was a huge loss for the order. The earthly warriors of Light needed years of training before they could face entities whose powers exceeded human bounds. This, combined with the fact that evolved souls that hadn’t passed on to the light dimension were few and far between, made them unique and consequently irreplaceable.
Aranes withdrew her hands from the fire and leaned back against the armchair. Even though troubled thoughts were swirling in her mind, her exhaustion and the fire’s warmth overcame her and she fell asleep.
