“You were spot on, Uriel,” Gabriel said. “She really acts like a youngling.”
The two groups parted ways and returned to their camps. Each leader gave their battle speeches and riled their followers. The moment had finally arrived. The rebellion had an advantage in composition but Raphael’s faction had a great advantage in numbers. Both leaders raised their hands in the air and when they brought it down, both factions charged at each other. The war had just begun.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
WAR
THE SPACE BETWEEN the two warring factions disappeared quickly as angels and archangels either charged or teleported towards the enemy. Despite the fear, uncertainty and worry on either side, it was survive or die and every angel and archangel was motivated by something bigger and more primordial than their loyalty to their causes; their will to live. Until this moment, death was nothing but a concept. Now, that concept was as real as the enemy’s face each combatant was focused on.
Those who teleported began exiting teleportation, gradually blurring out the space in between the two warring factions. Wings flapped, cries of war left the throats of many and weapons clashed. Eventually, there two factions no longer existed as separate entities. Archangels paired with archangels and angels paired with angels. As everyone else fought, six senior archangels calmly floated away from the mayhem as if the war had nothing to do with them.
Gabriel locked eyes with Malichiel. Both archangels were calm and without weapons. Raphael and Zukael sized each other up. If Raphael had his way, he would have clashed weapons with Luciel, leader-to-leader. However, Zukael was the perfect opponent in this situation. Their personality and fighting types were similar and, in reality, Raphael was only the leader because Michael was out of sight. As such, Zukael and Raphael were the perfect match, rank-wise, being the second-in-command to their respective leaders. Raphael caught Uriel’s eye.
Uriel nodded and returned her focus on Luciel, who was hovering in place. There was a lot more burning in the eyes of both archangels than everyone else. Uriel wanted to make Luciel pay for hurting her best friend, Michael. Luciel’s betrayal was unforgivable and this war would be the perfect venue to Luciel pay for her irreparable damage permanently! Luciel burned with jealousy for Uriel. Uriel always having a special place in her lover’s heart. Despite Michael claiming he and Uriel were simply best friends, Luciel believed there was more to Uriel’s and Michael’s relationship than meets the eye. For Celestia’s sake, she had to work so hard to split Michael and Uriel apart, while Uriel needed a moment with him and flap! She, Luciel, was made out to be their mutual enemy.
Luciel could go on and, with each insulting memory, her jealousy morphed into something that Luciel had never felt, even during her sojourn on Earth in Wazimud’s body: fury. And that fury burned deep into her essence with the flames of a rebirth so subtle, yet even more exhilarating than anything she had ever felt in her entire existence. Luciel brought her hands to her face, hoping she could witness her inner transformation on the outside. Alas, she saw nothing but that did not deter her feeling of ecstasy. Luciel lowered her hands and when she smiled at Uriel, Uriel could tell something was different about her enemy.
The younglings gave their best against their fellow peers. They wondered if they were going to be assessed after the war by their supervisors, assuming their supervisors survived. They, too, would have to make it through the war to be assessed. Everything boiled down to skill, stamina and sometimes smarts. The better students lived and their opponents fell. The situation was no different for the archangels. Belonging to a warring faction made no difference. Every angel and archangel fought for their existence. The rule was simple: survive or perish. No prisoners! And that, in itself, was motivation enough.
Gabriel’s right hand curled into a fist as he faked a charge to the right before veering to the left. He brought his right fist upwards in an uppercut. Malichiel read Gabriel’s intention and he turned his body to the left as Gabriel’s fist flew past the space where Malichiel’s head used to be. Gabriel knew Malichiel would use the momentum of his turning body to unleash a direct punch into his lower back with his left fist. So as he missed his uppercut, he zipped into the air and immediately charged downwards towards Malichiel. He thought Malichiel would be slow to recover from Malichiel’s attack to his lower back. Malichiel did throw the punch and miss, but Malichiel also immediately chased after Gabriel in the air. Both archangels clashed fists in the air and crashed into the ground. Gabriel rolled forward, assumed battle pose and sparked the ethers into a spiked mace. Malichiel also assumed battle pose and summoned a spiked, six-foot staff. Both senior archangels charged towards each other again.
Raphael grabbed Zukael by the throat with his left hand and slammed him into the ground with such force that many cracks spiraled away from the point of impact. He followed up with two, successive right punches to Zukael’s face, while pinning Zukael to the ground with his left hand. When Raphael went in for the third punch, Zukael crashed his right fist into the side of Raphael’s left elbow joint. There was a loud snap as Raphael’s left arm twisted in an unnatural angle. The pain was searing and a distraction for Raphael. Zukael grabbed Raphael by the back of the neck, pulled Raphael’s body to his and rolled backwards. Zukael was on top of Raphael. He slid his right arm around Raphael’s broken, partially-healed left elbow, clamped it to his body and shattered the elbow with a sudden, brutal, upward jerk of his body.
More pain simmered through Raphael’s body as he screamed in agony but Zukael did not stop there. Pinning Raphael’s right arm underneath his left knee, while still applying painful pressure on Raphael’s broken elbow, he delivered a surgical punch into Raphael’s throat, enough to disorient and distract Raphael from the series of rapid punches he unleashed on Raphael’s face. He punched Raphael so hard and so many times that angel light oozed out of Raphael’s torn left cheek and broken jaw. Zukael would not give Raphael the pleasure of a quick end! There would be no satisfaction in that. Raphael’s end would be slow, painful and, above all, humiliating. He wanted to punish Raphael for Raphael’s insolence, for Raphael’s stupidity and for Raphael thinking Raphael could ever best him in a fight. How disrespectful!
But in his pain, Raphael found the strength and space to shove a knee with all his might into Zukael’s groin with such force Zukael went flying over and away from Raphael. Raphael crouched into battle pose and Zukael did the same. As Zukael nursed and healed his shattered groin, he sparked the ethers around his right hand into a double-edged sword with a five-foot long blade. Raphael stretched out his left arm. As his shattered elbow and bludgeoned face healed, he summoned a similar sword in his right hand. Raphael and Zukael locked eyes at each other. This time, they regarded each other with loathsome respect. Play time was over. Soon, one of them will fall and the other will remain standing. Both senior archangels nodded, gave a chilling smile at each other and charged!
Uriel clashed swords with Luciel. There was no need to drag anything out any further. These two had trained together too many times and could predict each other’s moves up to four moves ahead, like a chess game of death of celestial magnitude. Still, the fight was not frustrating for both of them. It was a race against rage and a deadly desire to end the enemy. Officially, Luciel was the better fighter, only because Uriel had allowed Luciel the comfort of this illusion. Nothing wrong with stroking someone’s ego with misinformation. Uriel always thought that the subtlest way to take out an opponent, in this case an enemy, was to make them feel secure because in their false sense of security, the enemy or opponent almost always let their guard down. Defeat was easy from there. Luciel was beginning to lose her composure already.
Luciel had imagined a good show from Uriel; brief but good, nonetheless. But this was starting to take too long. In her confidence, Luciel had underestimated Uriel and Uriel was proving to be better than she, Luciel, was with the sword. Luciel hated Michael even more now. She mentally accused Michael of training more with Uriel and teaching
Uriel more than he had taught her, Luciel. Indeed, Uriel and Luciel trained with Michael but never in the same moment. Some senior archangels and a select few angels shortlisted for a promotion, also trained with Michael. Training with Michael was a great honor and this war was the ultimate test of those special training sessions and all other training sessions.
Uriel increased her pressure on Luciel and Luciel fought back with all she had. Uriel kept striking and changing and attacking. Two moves later, Uriel left a gash in Luciel’s left forearm. Luciel winced but banished the pain from her mind. She thrust her sword forward in desperation to temporarily keep Uriel at bay while she regained herself. But Uriel deflected her thrust and crashed the heel of her right foot into Luciel’s chest. The force of Uriel’s foot shattered Luciel’s rib cage and sent Luciel flying backwards. It was only after she crashed into a group of angels that she finally came to a stop. Luciel lifted her eyes to see Uriel flying towards her for the kill and grinned.
Luciel waited until Uriel was within range. Then, she whipped her sword in a wild arc towards Uriel’s neck. Uriel ducked and when Luciel’s sword swung past her, she brought up her sword to protect herself in case Luciel were to reverse her attack. As Uriel brought up her sword, something caught her attention from the corner of her eye and it was aimed directly into her armpit. In her charge, Uriel had failed to notice Luciel summoned a second sword and was about to drive it into Uriel’s armpit and into Uriel’s neck. The pain would have been enough to immobilize Uriel long enough for Luciel to move in for the kill.
Uriel instinctively summoned a shield in her left arm and immediately began squaring her torso to face Luciel. Everything seemed to slow down. Uriel saw Luciel’s lips stretch in an evil grin as Luciel’s sword slowly drew closer to its mark. Bright, golden light coalesced into a shield as Luciel’s sword came closer and closer, inch by inch, for a pre-kill. For a moment, it appeared as if Luciel’s sword was going to pierce through the still manifesting shield; but as luck would have it, the shield completed its full formation at the perfect moment. Luciel’s sword bounced off the shield. She had dedicated all of her momentum behind the thrust. Luciel’s sword grazed Uriel’s shield and her body continued with the forward momentum. She cursed at her huge mistake and Uriel grinned evilly.
Uriel finished squaring her torso and when she emerged from behind the shield, Luciel saw Uriel’s intention but it was too late. Uriel’s sword found its mark, right between Luciel’s neck and shoulder. Uriel plunged her weapon through Luciel until it struck the inner part of Luciel’s armor on her back. Luciel screamed with so much pain as angel light gushed out of her wound. Uriel wasted no moment! She pulled out her sword and only spared a blink to savor the moment before she went in for the kill blow. Uriel brought her blade down on Luciel’s neck. Her eyes met Luciel’s briefly. In Luciel’s eyes, Uriel saw the shame, humiliation, surrender, regret and most of all defeat! Luciel saw her end coming and she could do absolutely nothing about it. She saw the snarl on Uriel’s face as Uriel brought her sword down towards Luciel’s neck with every iota of strength, anger, and rage she could summon.
Luciel closed her eyes and kissed her every dream and vision goodbye as she waited for her end. This was not her concept of the future. This was nothing akin to the glory she wanted for her followers and for herself. Even in absentia, Michael had still won. Michael had still proven to be the kind of leader she was never going to have the chance of becoming. However, as Uriel was entirely focused on ending her enemy, she was too late to react as someone blindsided her and sent her body flying several feet away.
Zukael heard Luciel scream and acted on instinct. He unleashed a stump kick into Raphael’s torso and immediately teleported towards Luciel’s location. While in mid-teleport, he saw Uriel raise her sword and pause for just a blink. Zukael seized the moment, came out of teleport and blindsided Uriel away from Luciel. He immediately scooped Luciel in his arms and teleported away, knowing Raphael would be hot on his wings. He was right, but Uriel had also joined the chase. Zukael stood no chance against a combined assault from Uriel and Raphael and so he did his best to keep fleeing as he stalled for moments while Luciel healed herself from her near-fatal wound.
Raphael’s camp was winning, thanks to their advantage in numbers; they outnumbered Luciel’s camp by two-to-one. Michael had given Raphael a strict order for the archangels to not strike on any of the younglings from Luciel’s camp. Raphael understood and shared Michael’s sentiments. However, he also provided Raphael with the liberty to make a judgement call that would override his order, but only under extenuating circumstances. The younglings were free to attack an archangel if they felt that they were up to the task, though. For the moment, as angels and archangels fell on both sides, Raphael’s camp still had the upper hand, until the scales began to tip.
Luciel had also given the same order to her archangels not to strike down the younglings, except under extenuating circumstances and if they were attacked by a youngling or younglings. Her camp had more senior archangels than Michael’s. The prospect of defeat equated to extenuating circumstance that warranted a change in the course of action. Deep down, she preferred not to. Deep down, she felt the death of the last trace of goodness in her. Deep down, she felt the last ember of light burn out in her essence and a darkness take over her like she had never felt before.
“Kill them all!” Luciel said in Celestial frequency. “Even the younglings!”
Luciel gave the order, knowing it was a one-way trip into the darkness. Her polarization was now complete and so was her alignment with the darkness.
Palubiel held her grounds and fought with every fiber of her being. She was an archangel, albeit a recently promoted one, and she lived up to the reputation. She was impressive; for an archangel that young, she was truly amazing. She drew strength from places she had no idea where from, she fought with skills she had only either witnessed or heard of but never practiced. Palubiel was in the zone. She let her instincts take over. There was no thought, calculation or strategizing. There was only execution and survival, both of which she had quickly gained a mastery of. But then, just like everyone else, she heard Luciel give the order and knew everything was about to go really, really bad for her side.
Luciel’s archangels were ruthless and merciless. They turned on Michael’s younglings without reservation or remorse. One archangel could end as many as six younglings in a split moment. Raphael’s archangels would not partake in a similar savagery, at least not without a direct order from Raphael. The massacre was not a sight to behold. Palubiel and the rest of the archangels did their best to protect the younglings and defend themselves as well. Raphael and Uriel abandoned their chase and returned to the fight to lend a hand, but all they did was slow down the massacre by a mere iota. Raphael wrestled with the fact that he might have to take a similar route and issue a similar order. He commanded his camp to fall back and regroup, which they did. Luciel, now fully recouped, returned with Zukael and ordered her camp to fall back as well.
Once again, the two camps faced each other. Raphael and his camp were extremely infuriated at the low blow from Luciel’s camp. Zukael seemed too pleased to finally fight unrestrained. Raphael still held back. He hoped he would not give into the pressures from Luciel’s camp. But in the same wing flap, he had to protect as many of the younglings as possible. Raphael was in a quagmire and he felt himself sliding down a slippery slope. Uriel placed her left hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Raphael’s eyes narrowed and zoomed in on Luciel. As he locked eyes with Luciel, he made a vow to have her head very soon, even if that is the last thing he did. Luciel scoffed and both camps charged towards each other once again. But before the space between the two camps narrowed and disappeared, something unexpected and awe-inspiring caused both camps to freeze in mid-charge.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
AN ARCHANGEL AFLAME
IT CAME DOWN like a huge ball of fire. The rapid, downward acceleration of the jaw-dropping, awe-in
spiring phenomenon was commensurate to its impact. Every angel and archangel left standing shielded their eyes from the glaring brightness from the impact. They wondered what this could be and they had their answer as the bright, white smoke that curled upwards slowly from the ground dissipated. The gasps were audible; a mixture of shock, fear, elation and relief. Michael slowly rose to his feet and stood in a glory that none had ever seen before. His wings were ablaze, his armor and bracelets were ablaze with bright, golden flames. For a moment, there was absolute silence and paralysis on both camps. And then Raphael’s camp began chanting an all-too-familiar name, while Luciel’s camp cowered in fear and awe. When Michael opened his mouth to speak, flames spewed forth from his mouth.
“There has been enough loss already,” he said, referring to Luciel’s camp. “I will say this only once. Lower your weapons and you will be spared!”
About one-fifth of Luciel’s camp dismissed their weapons, stepped forward, dropped to their knees and surrendered. Michael waited until he was certain no one else was joining the first group of angels and archangels who had surrendered.
“Go to the nearest realm and stay there for now,” Michael ordered. “When this is over, you will be judged and sentenced.”
The angels and archangels did as commanded and teleported to the nearby realm. Michael then turned and faced Luciel’s camp. He leveled a blazing glare at Luciel, Zukael, and Malichiel. He gazed across the rest of Luciel’s camp. He respected their stoicism and determination; however stupid and futile they were. They would hold their ground like the fools they were, more out of foolish pride than wisdom. Michael nodded.
“So be it,” Michael said.
There was no compassion, no remorse and no kindness in his countenance. Right there, right then, he had made up his mind. Luciel, and all who stood with her, would fall. There would be no trial, no judgement, and no mercy. He was past the point of diplomacy. Right then, Michael was a full-fletched executioner.
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