The Third Heaven: The Rise of Fallen Stars

by Donovan Neal

  The book flung open as if with a life of its own. Images of its contents drew Jerahmeel into the scene and he was afraid, for around him was fire, smoke, and flames that engulfed him. His stomach churned and vomit bellowed from his mouth; the stench of decay and heat was unbearable. But he knew this place. He had seen it before from afar. It was the inside of the Kiln, but this view was like none other: for the vantage was from none other than El himself. For God hath kept a record, and Jerahmeel realized that what he was about to witness was something that not even the Almighty would let slip without testimony. Jerahmeel was undone to know that for these brief moments he beheld what God himself had seen in the Kiln.

  Jerahmeel was overwhelmed with the sights and sounds that flung at him, for about him were color and sound that even he with his ears had never heard: it was both beautiful and terrifying all at once. The Lord and Lucifer stood within the Kiln, and God motioned for him to pick a stone.

  The stones were vibrant, and each alive with the colors of the rainbow. Each one sang harmonic melodies asking God to allow them, “to be.” All living stones of flame, stones that represented all the elements that El had made, set here as it were in a storehouse: the Kiln. It was here that Jerahmeel knew that God had simply stored a fraction of who He was in this place.

  El watched as Lucifer picked up the stone that He had commanded.

  “The time hast come to promote thee, even to be as one of us. For we have chosen thee to become one with us as God. But another must hold now title of the Morning Star. Now,” said El. “gently place the stone in the wall's flesh.”

  With his palms outstretched, Lucifer received the large stone that El had given him and noted how similar it was in size and shape to his own. He gazed upon it, and a frown showed upon his face. He lifted up his hands and flung the stone. The gemstone smote the wall, and like flint it sparked, chipped, and cracked in three places and unleashed sparks to ignite flame within the flames. The stone ceased in its melodic song and let out an ear-splitting wail, and Jerahmeel covered his ears from the pain.

  And the thing which Lucifer did displeased the Lord.

  The Lord knelt down and took the wailing rock, and immediately its cries diminished but did not stop. Then the Lord himself tucked the stone gently into the folds of the wall's flesh while Lucifer looked on.

  And the Lord spoke to the rock, “Thou art beautiful and strong, as the diamond, you must be resolute to uphold the brightness of my coming, for if thou canst surpass the inner wail of thy spirit, know that thou shalt herald me as the Son of the Dawn, even as this one who now stands beside me. Rise, Apollyon, and take thy place amongst the stars. Fail me not, and thou shalt be exalted among thy people, but be thou warned, that if sorrow persists, then on your shoulders shall indeed a new dawn come, the breaking of a new day. And he to whom you would seek solace shall be your true King, and your infamy shalt be known even unto the end of days.”

  Jerahmeel watched as God constructed from the wall the form of a great Arelim, and God then caused a deep sleep to overtake Lucifer. The Lord took the splintered shard of Apollyon’s stones from the floor and grafted a shard into Lucifer’s stone. When he awoke, Lucifer could feel the hurt of Apollyon beating within him and scratched hard at his chest.

  The Lord spoke, “Because thou hast chosen not to honor me, know that you shalt forever feel the pain of purpose marred. For if thou will not be faithful in that which is another man's, who will make you ruler of that which is thine own? For lost now thou art to promotion, for we had chosen thee to become even as God, but because thou hast chosen to embrace iniquity, then iniquity shall be thy schoolmaster, for when thou dost move to remove the mar in he, then know that thine own sin shall then be healed, and restoration shall come to you both. For alas, thou art now linked, for the strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak.”

  Then the Lord turned his back on Lucifer, and Lucifer clutched at his chest. The fires of the Kiln grew dim, and nothing remained but the two angels. Apollyon towered over Lucifer and looked straight-ahead as a machine ready to receive instructions. Lucifer gasped for air and knelt on the floor while one hand grasped at his now hurting chest, and he yelled for the Lord God to hear.

  “Am I my brother’s keeper!?”

  The Lord stopped to turn and said, “No, my son, he is yours that thine iniquity might be purged.”

  With those words, the vision that Jerahmeel beheld came to a halt, and the images whirled around as if drained and funneled into the pages of the book that Jerahmeel held in his hands. The tome closed with thunder, and lightning flashed; Jerahmeel dropped it to the floor and fell backward on his hind in astonishment.

  “El hast known since the beginning!” said Jerahmeel.

  “Aye.” said Raphael. “And more importantly, he knew what Lucifer and Apollyon were capable of.”

  “Does Abaddon know that Lucifer flawed his purpose?”

  “No. There is no record in Grigoric history of this revealed outside of El, Lucifer, and us. This book has been sealed.”

  "Then we must see to Abaddon; perhaps he might yet be reasoned with?"

  “Nay.” said Raphael. “He is as you have said, Abaddon. The fracture has run its course and cannot be repaired. He is lost.”

  “But…” said Jerahmeel. “Apollyon…I mean Abaddon was to replace Lucifer, and Lucifer knew about the replacement and marred him. I cannot believe this, Lucifer...Lucifer was to be one with the Godhead!”

  “In the mind of our brother, there could be only one. El sought to teach him that in a universe of plenty, he had no lack. Nothing would have been denied him, for he was the beloved of the Lord. El had willed Lucifer be imbued with the powers of the Godhead, and they being three would be four. But lo, in his blindness to see only what he was, he lost sight to that which could be. He was afraid of loss, and in his fear, he was the first to lash out in anger, the first to do Elohim harm from the womb of the Kiln. He was a murderer from the beginning, and the Lord pardoned him.”

  Jerahmeel looked on in stunned disbelief, trying to comprehend all that he had seen and heard.

  “And did Lucifer know that you knew?”

  “No, he only suspected. This is why I suppose he had such a desire to see into the Hall of Annals, that he might divine its secrets and to wrest from me the extent to which others knew of his iniquity.”

  “Why show me this, Raphael? To what end does this help our cause and stop the fighting of our kin?”

  Raphael turned. “I cannot do what must be done here. The Hall is not designed to display its secrets in mass. We must go to the Library in the city, and from there I can take the tome and show it, for I intend to broadcast the truth of he who would be God to the people. Let them decide if this is whom they shall serve. El has rejected him. Now the people must know why.”

  “And then?” said Jerahmeel.

  “Then…” said Raphael, “They shall know the truth, and the truth shall make us free.”

  ********************

  Michael looked in the distance as Charon had stopped at the fiery plume and extended his hands into the tendril of Hell. Hell hearkened to her master, reached for him, and lifted the warden into the air to return him into her bosom. Michael watched as Charon vanished into a whirlwind of fire and knew that on the other side of the unimaginable heat Charon walked the belly of Hell, an antibody as at home in the digestive tract of brimstone and fury as any microbe within the intestine of a cow.

  Can I survive this journey? Michael thought to himself.

  He knew that he could not form a waypoint, for all entrances to Heaven were shut. To form a blind waypoint could destroy the very ground of Heaven itself. Michael’s mind raced as he watched the fire slowly begin to dissipate.

  “You wouldn’t dare?" said Iofiel who stood beside him coming to realize what ran through Michael’s mind.

  “There is no other way,” replied Michael. “Do you have a better idea?”

  Iofiel looked at the flame ascending into the sky
beyond the first heaven past the clouds, looked at Michael, and offered his hand.

  “When you open the gate of Argoth, we will come.”

  Michael paused, looked at Iofiel, took his hand, and embraced him and spoke in his ear. “Hold this ground for El, and we shall celebrate our victory over a banquet of manna.”

  Each beheld the landscape before them as plumes of smoke and fire rose into the air, and Athor burned as the war to retake it from those aligned with Lucifer waged on. As Michael prepared to depart, they heard without warning the sound of the Horn of Lucifer crack the heavens, and as if on cue, legions that were preconditioned to worship upon the sound, fell to their knees. It was the clarion call to worship, and Michael and Iofiel watched as angel after angel kneeled to lift their voice to sing the praises to El. Yet on this day, neither angel could bring himself to do so, for they knew that today this sound was something else and that their kind had been tricked.

  Then they saw it…the flash of a Ladder. Then another, and then hundreds, nay thousands, and the vacuums created ripped the ground and made the air crackle with lightning and thunder. Iofiel fell to his hind blown back by the multitude of Ladders that reached to the sky, and then he looked upon the ground. It was marred as far as the eye could see as each Ladder dug into the earth and cauterized the ground into glass. Iofiel noted that everywhere their enemy had vanished; gone home to wage war, each angel a weapon of mass destruction let loose upon the unsuspecting people of Heaven. He knew that Heaven could not survive such an assault.

  Iofiel fell to his knees, rent his clothes and wept that Heaven was being destroyed.

  Michael frowned and looked resolutely at the ascending funnel cloud of fire and flew quickly to intercept the tendril of Hell, to allow hellfire to touch him once more. As he approached, he could feel the heat, and his body began to glow. He prayed, asking El for courage, and closed his eyes as he flew into the cylindrical pyre. Hell knew that angel flesh was in her grasp and coiled her lanky vines of fire around Michael and pulled him towards her.

  Michael felt himself lift through the heavens, pulled by the force of God’s punishment to all who would seek to defy his will. The fire bit at him and burned him. His body convulsed in pain as his lungs filled with the gas of brimstone, his eyes grew blurry, and his body contorted as he flung through space and time. A shard of nourishment lobbed through the boundaries of the cosmos to feed the stomach of Hell. Michael heaved, and his flesh gave way to the heat as he moved from one realm to the next.

  Agony rippled over him, and he cried out in pain. His mind became clouded, his vision darkened, and Michael lost consciousness, but only for a moment, for Hell would not let angel stuff of this sort die. No, she must suckle on him, to fan her flames. Michael’s life force was different from the rest; he was a Chief Prince, one of the Lumazi, and Hell would savor her meal.

  The long tendril slowly receded itself, and with thunder and the snap as if of a thousand trees, Michael fell hard on soft, wet, warm ground. He could hear the gurgle of the giant, and the life ebbed from him as she fed upon him. Michael knew that perhaps he had done nothing for the cause of Heaven save hasten his own demise. As he flickered back and forth between states of consciousness, he saw the hooded figure that was Charon. His equine skull could not be mistaken as the warden towered over him.

  Michael could feel the chains of the Watchman of Hell wrap around him; the breath of the beast floated as toxic poison on the air. Michael moved his face as far away as he could as Charon sniffed at this intruder. The flames had somehow died down, and Michael could feel that he was held aloft by Charon’s might alone, for no tendril touched him. Sweat beaded on his brow and flowed from his face. Michael coughed as the haze, smoke, and brimstone made what little breathable air acrid to swallow. Michael coughed and wheezed as Charon continued to view this angel.

  Charon knew Michael's scent. He gently placed the Chief Prince on the ground and stood silently over him. His black cloak draped over him, but Michael could dimly see through its folds that eyes upon eyes looked at him. Tongues salivated within razor sharp teeth, and ooze coated the ceiling and walls, yet Michael remained unharmed.

  Then Charon let out a roar, and the sound made Michael cover his ears; it was a bestial sound. A sound that mimicked the great creatures Michael had seen on the Earth. A guttural sound that made him cower. Charon's tendrils flailed about him, and he raised his hammers for hands and flung them into Hell's belly. Hell convulsed and yelled her displeasure with a sound that could not be described. Michael could only perceive that it was one of pain.

  Michael discerned that Hell and Charon were at odds over his presence, for he sensed that at any moment the salivating tongues, which were just outside of his reach, might devour him, tongues with eyes that looked at Michael, hungry to consume him.

  Hell's eyes looked at Charon and backed away deeper into the heated darkness outside of view: afraid to cross the warden.

  Charon uncovered Michael, looked upon him, and reached to touch his forehead with a skeletal finger. Afraid, Michael backed away. Charon lifted his hand and turned his palms upward as if to give Michael something. Michael moved closer, and Charon reached with one finger and touched Michael’s forehead, like a drill. Then suddenly a voice as of a serpent spoke to him.

  “Whyyyy haveeee you followed meeeee, Michael of the Kortai?”

  Michael looked at Charon, but the warden's mouth did not move, but Michael responded. “Charon?” You…you speak?”

  “Ayeeeeee.” said Charon. “To thossssse whom wordsssssss need be spokennnn…wordddds, I will muster. You, angel of God, ssssshould not beeeee hereeeee .”

  Plumes of fire jumped off Charon as butterflies might dance around a flower.

  “I am in great need of thine help,” said Michael. "I come this way only because there wast no other choice. The waypoints are shut. Lucifer in his deceit can be the only cause for such a barrier. He must be stopped.”

  Charon nodded. “The princcccce of pridddde is not my chargeeeee. Hissss actionsssss have yet to bring him within my gazzzzze. He would be wisssse to not have my eye ssssset upon him.”

  “And what of Abaddon? He hast escaped a second time from thy grasp.”

  With his chains, Charon lifted Michael high into the air. Michael felt Charon squeeze him, and the archangel winced in pain. Suddenly, the tongued eyes of Hell made their appearance. Charon flung Michael to the ground and spoke.

  “Wouldddd you dare mockkkk the Vengeance of God within the bowlsssss of a creature that at my whim would consummmmme you alivvvvve?”

  Michael lifted his hands in abeyance, “Nay, great Charon, to mock the vengeance of God is to do so at one’s own risk. I have seen they might and know of a surety that all those who stand before thee must eventually fall. Yet Abaddon is not within his cage; he runs amok. I can only imagine on the streets of Heaven itself.”

  Charon laughed, and Michael opened his mouth in shock. Never had it occurred to him that the creature could know humor.

  “He fleesssss what isssss the inevitable. Some sinsssss are opene beforehand, going before to judgment and otherssss follow after. He has been horded ssssimply closer to my domain that he might be corralled. He will be with usssss ssssshortly.”

  Michael looked upon the giant puzzled. “Us?”

  Charon roared, the heated darkness of the cavern grew ever brighter, and Michael saw what none else had ever seen. There was no dissolution. Imbedded within the walls of Hell, were thousands of Elohim. Each eaten alive, and their stones drained of life. They cried and wailed; their agony let loose for Michael to hear. The screams of torment brought him to his knees.

  Michael, consumed so much in his own pain, had been oblivious to that which lived within the very walls and floors. Everywhere the eye could see, Elohim of all races were mangled, and digested alive by the fiery worms of Hell. The living dead, each a morsel to nourish the villi of Hell’s very bowels. Their cries filled the cavern, and Michael covered his ears and eyes that he mig
ht shield himself from the site.

  “Please make it stop. It is enough,” said Michael.

  Charon roared again, the cavern grew dim, the bodies of all the living receded into the walls flesh, but Michael could still make out the faint cries of those damned to have followed Lucifer.

  Charon lifted up his nose and turned; his hand closed into a fist, and smote the wall. Hell groaned her displeasure.

  “He issss here,” said Charon.

  “He,” said Michael. “Who is here?”

  Charon touched the wall, and immediately it became transparent, and Michael could see. Lucifer was within Hell itself and fought through the creature. Michael’s mind raced with awareness.

  “Of course: it was never about the city.”

  Charon’s hand moved from the wall and the image disappeared. The giant began to move towards the direction of Lucifer.

  “Wait!” said Michael. "Do not destroy him; I have an idea that might remove this breach from your domain.”

  Charon stopped and turned. “Ssspeak.”

  “Lucifer cares neither for Heaven nor Hell. He cares for one thing and one thing alone. Power, he comes for the Kiln Stone. If he can enter the Kiln, he can be like God and cause those things that are not as though they were. He can from the Kiln speak and build a new creation. Don’t you see? Each of the stones contains the very power of El himself. He cannot destroy El, but he can use the power of God himself to fight the Almighty. He will use El’s own power against Him. Only there and there alone can he gather the might to battle El. He must be stopped.”

  Charon replied, looking at the angel from over his shoulder. “And what do you propossssse, Builder of Heavennnnn?”

  “Allow him to pass; do not attempt to stop him. For of a surety, he has not planned that I would be here. But go and arrest thine charge Abaddon. Bring him to naught but leave Lucifer to me. I understand now why El allowed me to enter the Kiln and see thy creation. I can stop him. Allow me to pass. I beseech thee.”