by Thomas Green
Huffing, I watched, readying for another teleport. From the supernova spell, I absorbed so much power my entire soul overflowed with aether. But I was too wounded for a continuous attack. I had to let my soul recompose.
Using the opportune moment, Lucifer gathered aether around his face, but the eye wouldn’t heal, the hostile aether invading his form preventing even recreation. “What have I become,” he whispered when he realized. “Had I known my death would lead to a creation of a monster like you, I would had asked Father to unmake me.”
That stung. But I didn’t feel like being unmade. I teleported to him, but he read my move, and flashed away in a ray of light the moment I swung my blade.
“But I will correct my error.” He spread his arms, insurmountable amount of aether flooding out of him. Thousands of orbs of light flashed around him, imploding on themselves.
I did the same, stretching out the power I had absorbed from him, creating a miniature black hole for each point of light he made, whispering an incantation. “My battle ends at dawn. The last dawn of my soul…”
He finished the spell, saying, “Memento mori.” Thousands of rays of aether-empowered light beams shot from the orbs he made. But my black holes devoured each of them.
“… the dawn of a thousand suns.”
I concentrated on the name I made for this spell when writing it down into the book for Lillith. All of the black holes imploded, and then released the stolen power in an outburst of pure energy. The entire space around us shook and I teleported to him, swinging the sword.
He tried to turn into light, but the chaos of exploding aether would tear him into nothing if he did, so he stopped himself. At the last second, he tried to evade my sword. Too slow. My blade slashed his chest, blood bursting out. I teleported half a foot forward and jabbed with my other hand. I hit his other eye, injecting aether into him.
Lucifer slashed his arm in front of me, “Arcus caleum,” and pure light cut my form, piercing my shields, nearly severing me in two. But nearly was not enough. I let go of my sword, and stabbed my fingers into his chest, pushing my aether inside. I injected my power into his spiritual core, shattering it, robbing him of the ability to use magic.
The Void around us shook, and I had to stretch out my power to maintain the area not to return to reality. I didn’t have a body yet. Not to have to maintain so much area, I reformed the Void back into the small church where the spell first threw me for the challenge. Lucifer crumpled by the altar, holding himself by its edges.
I focused, whispering, “Genesis fifty-one.” I channeled my power through the thought, recreating my body from pure aether, which I instantly repossessed. I towered above him. “I win.”
Lucifer turned his face toward me, blood-filled sockets in place of eyes. “I will never help an abomination like you.” He grabbed the crucifix from the altar and jabbed it into his throat.
I stared as he gurgled on his own blood. This wasn’t our deal. He fell on the ground and died. The dimensional pocket that hosted the trial vanished, and I stood in a stone room covered with runes.
Pain exploded through me body and I fell on all fours, spitting blood, vision turning black as the gate started opening.
Amaranta 2
AMARANTA watched the gate open. From drinking Trisha’s beer, Amaranta’s head hurt as if the succubus kicked her with her hoof in the head. The others were gathered around; Trisha polishing the gem on her staff, still holding the Minotaur in her tail; Katherine stupidly smiling into nowhere; Zhang and Joseph quietly discussing their options of retreat.
Of course, Lucas passed the trial. Somehow, she never had a shade of doubt about that. That meant only one trial remained between them and the vault, the Trial of the Holy, her trial.
“Lucas!” Katherine shouted and rushed up the stairs and the gate opened.
Slowly, Amaranta followed. Lucas lay crumpled on the ground, coughing out blood. Katherine ducked above him, reaching for the sacks by her belt to pull out a vial filled with crimson liquid. She removed the stopper and put the vial’s edge to his lips. “Drink this. It will help.”
Truth. Amaranta suppressed her frown. When she needed a magical potion, Katherine did nothing, letting her get carried around unconscious. But for Lucas, she always had a potion to help him.
Amaranta forced her mind away, walking past them, pressing forward. The moment she passed through the other side; she saw the other gate. Literally across the room stood a same-design door with the text of light saying, Gate of the Holy.
Well, this was it. Followed by the others, she walked toward the thorn at the small door.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” Trisha shouted from behind stomping to catch up. “There’s no way you are taking the next trial.”
What? Amaranta turned. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you are obviously going to fail.”
Truth. And that stung. “What makes you say that?”
“Look, darling, you might be an angel, but you don’t really have what makes an angel an angel, all right? Every proper angel would have attacked me on sight, or at least fought the others not to trust me or not to work with the big bad succubus. But you didn’t even mention it. You might have the wings and the strength, but you lack the spirit. And there’s no way you pass Lucielle’s trial without that.” Trisha motioned back with her head. “So, we should wait to see if whatever the paladin-girl gave to Lucas kills him or heals him. If the latter, he should take the trial. Otherwise, the paladin-girl has better odds of succeeding than you. Hell, even I am a better fit for the trial than you are.”
Paladin-girl? So far, Trisha always called Katherine virgin. But now, she called her paladin-girl. And in between, Katherine was out of Amaranta’s sight for a few hours, together with Lucas... no, she didn’t do that, did she? “I don’t care. I’m here for this trial, and I will pass it as I am supposed to.”
Amaranta turned into lightning, bolted to the door, reformed, and pricked her palm on the thorn. So far, she had been absolutely useless in this entire adventure. More a liability than actual help. Everyone else contributed, Zhang with navigation, Joseph with the puzzles, Katherine with her potions and trial. Only she, the angel, had done nothing useful.
“Wait. If you fail the trial, it not only kills you, but also locks the trial for ten years,” Trisha shouted.
Truth. Amaranta put her palm on the center of the small door. The door vanished, light wrapped Amaranta and drew her in.
A moment later, she stood in front of a prison cell. She recognized the place instantly. This was the prison of the Hawaii Vatican Inquisition base. In her left hand, she clutched a crumpled letter.
She remembered this very moment. The letter was her angel nomination. ´
And just like back then, panic filled her veins. Amaranta wanted to turn and run, but her body didn’t listen. Instead, it moved as it did that day, pocketing the letter, drawing a key from her jean’s pocket, and opening the door.
William Reid lay on the bed, fully clothed, staring at the ceiling. “You’re a bit early for breakfast,” he said without looking at her.
His cell was simple, a room with a bed, a table, a chair, and a toilet. On his wrists, two unconnected shackles glinted in the moonlight. The anti-magical shackles that blocked any use of magic.
“If I release you,” Amaranta asked, “what will you do?”
Reid looked at her, confusion twisting his face. “I’ll disappear so that no one ever hears about me again.”
“Good. Do that,” Amaranta said and tossed him a key for his shackles. She turned and headed into the hallway. Back then, doing this made so much sense. She got the angel nomination out of the blue. She wanted to accept, but not on a three day notice. That wasn’t enough to write herself all she needed to remember from her life.
And so, she came up with the plan to release Reid, a relatively harmless warlock she captured a few weeks ago, casting a doubt on her nomination, suspending the process. The ensuing investig
ation would find the false traces of the guards messing up, the investigation would thus be shut down as inconclusive, and her nomination would be resumed.
But by then, she would have all her memoirs written up, and she could recover from the memory loss that came with becoming an angel by reading her own memoirs.
The scene shifted, and she lay naked in bed with Robert, her life-long partner, fiancé, soon to be husband, and a father of her children. Tears flooded Amaranta’s eyes. She knew this moment, her waking up sprawled over his chest as he still slept. She missed him more than she could express.
He blinked his eyes open and smiled with exactly the same charming smile with which he had stolen her heart. “Morning,” he whispered.
This may have been an illusion, but every detail was perfect. His voice, his eyes, his handsome face, the warmth of his body, everything. And Amaranta had to bite her inner cheek not to break down in tears.
Seeing her struggle, he stroked her hair gently. “Bad dream?”
Amaranta nodded, unable to form coherent words.
“Let me kiss it better,” he said, and then softly, he pulled her up and kissed her.
In that moment, she forgot this was a trial, a spell, an illusion. She was back there with him, the love of her life, and she wanted nothing more than to remain like that forever. Hungrily, she kissed him back, reaching for his clothes.
Illusion or not, she was going to get one more morning with him through this. Quickly, she helped him from his shorts.
The reality around her whirled. She stood on a roof in light rain. Behind her, propped against an antenna, was Katherine in a half-face mask, sword by her side, a pool of blood oozing beneath her. Amaranta was dressed in combat armor, holding her extendable spear. Near her, wearing a matching armor, was Robert, gripping an assault rifle, also wearing a gas mask.
Surrounding them were half-demons, humans twisted with horns, scales, fangs and claws. She remembered this night. And all her being wanted to scream, to jump out of this reality, to get away from this memory.
Because at the roof’s other side, by a landing helicopter, stood William Reid. He made the half-demons through a virus he had released and was just getting to the helicopter. Amaranta wanted to grab Robert and jump with him from the roof. Being a mage, he would survive that. But she couldn’t move her body, as it moved by itself. Exactly as it moved that night.
She felt everything, saw everything, but she had no control. Helplessly, she called lightning into her hand, and shot it at Reid.
A shield shimmered around the warlock, absorbing the spell. But he turned and slashed with his wand. A shockwave quaked through the air. Amaranta didn’t want to dodge. But she dodged that night, and so once again, she did.
The spell flew past her and hit Robert, throwing the gas mask off his face. Instantly, his features started twisting into those of a demon.
Over the past year, she replayed this moment in her mind thousands of times. She wished she hadn’t, but she couldn’t stop. This was the only memory she kept through the ascension. Helplessly, she watched her husband to be turn into a half demon.
She screamed, exactly as that night, and she felt the dark spirit of Lucas enter her body. Amaranta mounted all her strength to resist, but to no avail. Shaken from watching Robert turn, she lacked the focus to hold off Lucas.
Robert screeched, fingers turning into claws, and slashed at her, eyes filled with madness. Lucas took her over, let go of her spear and dodged, whirling. With his left, he jabbed Robert’s knee, crushing it, and with his right, he picked up Katherine’s sword.
May you find peace, Lucas’s thought passed through Amaranta’s mind. Using her body, he spun, and severed Robert’s head. Blood sprayed into the air, and she watched the light fade from his eyes.
Amaranta wailed, pulling in all her strength. Halo of lightning burst above her head, wings stretching from her back. She banished Lucas’s spirit from her body. The demons converged on her.
Amaranta channeled the lightning through her and released the energy in an outburst. The demons disintegrated, and Reid’s helicopter’s rotor stopped spinning.
The warlock got out, stretching his wand toward her, releasing another shockwave.
She swatted away the spell with her wing, turned into lightning, bolted to him. She materialized in his face and hit his chest with her palm. The impact echoed through the air, and Reid flew away, hitting his back on the helicopter.
Amaranta channeled lightning into her hand.
Reid shouted with pain, and fell on the floor, landing on all fours. “I surrender,” he squeezed out of himself.
What? Amaranta glowered at him.
But Reid threw away his wand. “I surrender.” He repeated. “I already got out of Church’s prison once, so arrest me, and I’ll wait just wait there for another fool to free me.”
She stared at him, rage and pain swirling within her.
“Just,” Reid said, flashing a smile. “I hope the next one is smarter than to drag in her boyfriend.”
Anger took her over, blinding all her senses. Robert’s death flashed before her eyes, and she released the lightning, disintegrating Reid.
Her angelic powers vanished and the reality around her shattered.
She failed the trial.
Lucas 16
EVERYTHING HURT, but I worried more about the parts of my body that I didn’t feel at all, like my midsection. Katherine’s potion helped my body, yet most of the damage was done to my soul. I did enjoy her care though.
Too bad I had to work. Back when Katherine entered her trial, I sent with her a fragment of my aether connected by a string. That fragment didn’t come to harm all through the trial, all the way until the gate opened.
And I did the same with Amaranta, holding onto the invisible string to get a rough idea of what was going on. Suddenly, the fragment vanished, string cut off. She failed.
I reached into the darkest depths of my soul, unlocked the compartment where I held the divine power of original Lucifer and all the souls I had devoured, and pushed all of that into me.
Time for plan B.
The influx of raw aether repaired my soul, filled my veins with fire, making me want to scream from excitement. Tiredness, pain, and doubt all vanished. I rose, my eyes turning into pools of darkness, a crown of horns sprouting from my head, tail weaving from my behind.
The air around me quaked as if it became liquid, too heavy to flow freely. Everyone around me stared, paling, unable to breathe. First, I had to shut down the defenses. I drew into me the soul of Persephone, the Queen of the Greek Underworld, and I reached for all the aether I had sent into Lucielle’s defensive systems.
Persephone’s power was the ghostly flame of death, which had two properties I needed. First, it burned aether, and second, it left behind no traces. I turned all aether I sent into Lucielle’s system into that flame.
The entire complex shook, the gray owls observing us disappeared, and all the defensive systems shut down. At the same time, a pulse of power reached out from the vault’s core, breached the absorption bubble I made in the Void, and headed to Earth.
Soon, Lucielle was going to find out she was being robbed, and she was going to come to solve that.
I had to be faster. After pushing out the spirit of Persephone, I pulled into me the spirit of Sayf Al-Din, the high vampire I had killed. Infusing my aether with his power, I forced it forward, and turned the gate in front of me into sand.
With a motion of my hand, I swept the sand away, seeing the chamber beyond was compressing, the ceiling moving down to crush Amaranta, who lay crumpled on the floor.
I pushed my power further destroying the press, and also the second part of the gate. Amaranta’s eyes opened, her gaze meeting mine.
I promised her that if she came with me, she would see my horns, my nova release. Now, she did, and I have thus fulfilled the promise.
While gritting my teeth, I withdrew the power back into me, pushing it back into the se
aled compartment of my soul. Enough showing off. My horns and tailed vanished, my eyes turned to normal, and the air around me became breathable once more, everyone gasping for breath.
“Grab what you can as quickly as you can. We have under ten minutes before the defenses come back online,” I said and stepped forward. “And until Lucielle comes.”
I passed by Amaranta and entered the vault itself. The place was fashioned into a vast dome fashioned around a pyramid. The rest of her tale was carved around the dome.
The dome’s sides were sorted by the period from which the items, arranged in displays and on stands, originated. They went around in a circle, with the most recent items being to my left, featuring a giant tank with a sticker that read ‘L-Virus’.
Lucielle’s zombie apocalypse virus, if I recalled correctly. But I was more interested about the right hand side, because those displays were fashioned into objects of stone, all ancient, hand carved into a frame of a house. The only non-stone object inside was a wood-crafted, primitive cradle. I couldn’t resist reading the text by its bottom. ‘In this cradle, I had my first memory. It was that of my mother, as she laid me to sleep back in our home, in Ragnarok, back when dragons ruled the world.’
I walked by the dome’s edge. By the paintings from earlier trials, the amulet I was looking for was given to Lucielle by Vivian during the signing of the Pact, so it was going to be in a section from that period. Before that, however, I would find the amulet and the rosary Azrael asked me to bring.
From the corner of my eye, I followed Lucielle’s story. Born into a city of primordial humans, who all had horns, tail, and varying amount of scales in place of skin, she lived with them under the rule of dragons. They were slaves to their creators, pets whom the dragons created out of boredom.
By the carving of Lucielle rejuvenating a withered flower and the entire village around her staring, Lucielle was the first of her people who discovered how to use magic, the first witch.
