by Vox Day
The Son of God raised his glowing hand and a beam of white light shot out and illuminated Lucifer like a spotlight, stripping away all his pretense, demonstrating the ugly nature of his twisted spirit for all to see. Christopher retched, and even Kaym quailed momentarily at the hideous sight.
The humiliation was more than Lucifer could bear. Christopher saw that although the light didn’t harm the Prince, he seemed to feel its touch like an inferno. Shattered by this single deadly stroke, Lucifer leaped upon Leviathan’s massive back and fled from Heaven upon the wings of Chaos.
“Wait… Leviathan, get back here!” he yelled, but the great dragon either didn’t hear him or ignored him. He felt about himself for the tooth that would give him command of the beast, but it was gone. He stared at his retreating Prince, wondering if the Dawn Prince had taken it from him.
The legions were stirring fearfully with Adonai Lucere’s flight, and Christopher, sensing panic in the ranks of his Anakhim, turned desperately to Kaym, hoping that the fallen angel might have some idea of how to salvage the situation. After a heart-stopping moment when he thought Kaym had run away too, he saw him in the middle of a hasty conference with Baal Phaleg and Lord Belial.
“Kaym,” he shouted, relieved.
Kaym looked up and gestured for him to join them, but before Christopher could fight his way through the frightened Anakhim, a noise captured his attention. It sounded like a strong wind blowing through a forest, except there were no trees around. A burst of light drew his eyes up to the sky and he caught his breath when he saw hundreds of thousands of white-robed angels suddenly appear out of thin air.
They were armed and ready for battle, confident, and eager to unleash their flaming swords upon their rebellious brethren. They rushed down upon the disorganized legions like an avalanche of fire, and the overwhelmed Fallen were quick to fly before them. Incredibly, impossibly, they seemed to outnumber the combined force of the six hundred and sixty-six legions.
“What is this?” Christopher screamed at Kaym as he saw his Anakhim melting away before the fury of the Divine assault.
It was like watching a hot knife slicing its way through soft butter, so quickly did the ur-mortals fall before the angelic swords of fire. He tried to think of something, anything, that would blunt the force of the attack, but his mind was blank. The confusion was beyond his control, and it was all he could do to defend himself.
“What?” Kaym couldn’t hear him over the din of the battle. He ducked one flaming blade, and struck down its wielder.
“I thought you said most of the angels were on our side?” he shouted as he parried two attackers at once.
“They are!” Kaym was hard-pressed himself. “They were!”
“Then where are all these angels coming from?” Slash, parry, thrust. Two more down, only a million more to go.
“I don’t know!”
Well, that really helps, Christopher thought acidly as the battle surged away from him, giving him a chance to survey the situation. His legion of angels was holding up somewhat better than the Anakhim, but despite their ferocity, they were still being forced back. Christopher looked back at the Anakhim and came to a quick decision. They couldn’t be saved no matter what he did, so he might as well use them to save the rest of his angels.
“Kaym, we can’t stay here!”
“I know!”
He saw the fallen angel duck under a burly archangel’s swing, then rise and bury one of his spiked fists into the other’s throat. The archangel choked out a strangled cry, then disappeared in a red burst of light.
“Take the legion and retreat to that hall near the Courts,” he ordered. “You know what I mean?”
“I remember. Will you stay with the Anakhim?”
“Forget it, they’re toast. Hurry, and I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay.” The fallen angel met Christopher’s eyes for a second, but his emotion was unreadable. “Then I’ll see you there.”
It took a little time, but as soon as Kaym had successfully extricated the remnants of his legion from the deadly chaos of the battlefield, Christopher turned his mind towards getting out of there himself. Thunderbolts and massive fireballs were landing indiscriminately all around him, and the deafening sound of their detonations made it impossible to think clearly.
He looked around and shook his head. Only a fourth of his Anakhim were left, but the Divine angels were pressing them hard and they couldn’t last long. The path to the west was clear, for the moment, but a force of Divine chariots were galloping hard to cut off that line of retreat. If he was going to get out, it had to be now.
His decision made, he started to run, but a large hand caught his shoulder and stopped him in his tracks.
“Are you leaving us, Baal Phaoton?”
It was one of his Anakhim, a giant ur-mortal with two piggish eyes set deep within a broad, flat face. Christopher had talked to him once before, and this was not one of his brighter warriors. Reason, he knew, would be useless.
“Let go of me, you idiot!”
“You can’t leave us, Baal Phaoton! We’ll be destroyed without you. They said we would be gods—”
“Shut up!” He looked over his shoulder and saw the chariots quickly closing the gap. In minutes, they would be surrounded.
“They didn’t say we could die. They promised us!”
“Shut up, you moron! Let me go!”
Frantic with fear, knowing he had little time left, Christopher drew his blade and slashed at the heavy hand still holding him fast. The ur-mortal howled and stepped back, his face bewildered with pain and the knowledge of betrayal. At that moment a random bolt of lightning fell from the sky, transfixing the monster, and the ur-mortal fell dead at Christopher’s feet, his bloody, wounded hand stretched out in supplication.
Christopher stared at the lifeless hand for a moment, then he turned his back and ran.
Chapter 25
Citadel of the King
Blessed is the man whom thou choosest, and causest to approach unto thee, that he may dwell in thy courts: we shall be satisfied with the goodness of thy house, even of thy holy temple.
—Psalms 65:4
It was just the coolest place, Jami thought, as she looked around the lovely garden, inside the fortress that Khasar called the Arx Dei. What could you say? It was beautiful, of course, with classic architecture that reminded her of that storybook castle in Germany, or was it Austria? She frowned, trying to remember. Lichtenstein, maybe? Well, whatever. But even though the Arx Dei looked like a walled castle from the outside, inside it was, well, hard to say.
One day, the room that was a cozy little library complete with books and a fireplace would, the next day, be a pretty flower garden that was, as far as she could tell, totally outside. It was weird, but inside and outside didn’t matter anymore. Size didn’t seem to enter into the equation, nor did anything else, apparently. So much for finishing that book about the Chaos Lords, she thought with a shrug. She leaned over and smelled a yellow tulip.
But it was always beautiful. Holli said it reminded her of the Laura Ashley store at the mall, where everything always looked just the way you thought it really should. Not that the Divine decorator, whoever she was, was particularly fond of floral prints and paisley, although there was a pretty tapestry with blue-and-yellow flowers in the room she shared with Holli and a very nice angel named Daliel. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been there, but every day, Lokhael and Khasar came to visit, and Daliel instructed them in the Path of Righteousness. The stuff about the path was too much like school for her liking, but Khasar made up for it, telling story after story of the creation of Ahura Azdha, Lucifer’s rebellion, and how a beautiful world was corrupted and became Rahab the Wicked.
Neither her nor Holli had spoken to Kherev since the miraculous rescue of the people of Chasah, but Jami had caught a glimpse of a woman who looked like the Lady Tiphereth, and later learned from Lokhael that it had indeed been the Lady. Holli returned joyfully from a w
alk one morning, excited to report that she’d run into Father Havtah, who was now happily employed as an assistant to the archangel Rhamiel, who was one of the scribes in Heaven’s great Scriptorium.
“Excuse me, but you are the Lady Jami, are you not?”
Jami looked up, surprised to see Koser Vadout, the captain of Chasah who’d almost killed her. He apologized to her, at great length, until Jami finally made him stop.
“So what are you doing now?” she asked him, curious.
The black-bearded warrior smiled at her, his face no longer grim, but filled with the same kind of light she’d often seen in the face of the angels.
“I serve My Lord much as I did before,” he said, fingering the sword at his side. “But my faith is all the greater now, because I have seen Him face to face.”
“As you did before?”
“Once a warrior, always a warrior,” a tall young man in a white robe who looked almost like Koser’s twin said as he joined them in the garden. He gripped the captain’s shoulder and smiled proudly.
“My father,” Koser explained, grinning. “He always told me that the Lord would come as He promised, and he was right! And we serve Him gladly, for in these bodies of light we fight against the Evil One himself, rather than his minions. Now that the wicked world of our birth is gone, we shall fight for Him here in Heaven.”
“The world… is gone? What do you mean?”
“Had you not heard, Lady Jami? Ahura Azdha is no more. Not long after His Son came for us, the Lord destroyed it in his wrath.”
Jami did not know what to say, because for the first time in a long time, she felt a deep pang of concern for Chris. What had become of him? Had he been blown away with the rest of that wicked world? Somehow, she didn’t think so. Most likely, he was with the doomed legions that surrounded her right now.
Lokhael was gone when Jami returned to the room, but Khasar was there, helping Holli and Daliel make perfume out of some flowers she’d gathered. Jami laughed at the archon and threw the tulip that she’d plucked at him. Moments later, the heavy tapestry that covered the entrance to the room was pushed aside and in walked Kherev Elohai, followed by seven royal Seraphim wearing the form of simple archangels. They were in full armor, and only their many-eyed wings indicated their lofty rank.
Khasar and Daeliel immediately fell to their knees, and Jami quickly followed their example, as did Holli. But the Son of God smiled gently and extended his hands to raise them, two by two, to their feet again.
“It is time now to bring these matters to a close,” He announced softly. “Soon I will rid Heaven of this wicked rebellion. Be strong of heart, and fear not for we are no longer outnumbered. My Father has raised a new Host, stronger and more loyal than the first.”
“Praise be to the Almighty!” Khasar exclaimed, clenching a fist. “That’ll confuse the foe!”
“Indeed it will,” Kherev replied. “They shall be utterly defeated, cast upon the winds of Chaos and dispersed throughout all Creation.”
“But they’ll be around to cause trouble later,” Jami predicted.
Kherev glanced at her and arched an eyebrow.
“Yes, they will.” He smiled again, a confident smile that would have made the most cowardly soul feel brave and unafraid. “But I believe My Father has a plan for that as well.”
“Well, I’m sure it’s a good one, then,” Holli said.
Her innocent certainty made the seraphim laugh. They sounded like thunder rumbling at a distance.
“You have the gift of faith indeed, my dear,” Kherev praised her. “And you will need faith, both of you, for what I am asking you to do.”
“What’s that?” Jami asked.
“As I recall, Jami, you asked if I would give your brother a chance to repent of the evil path he has chosen. I promised you that I would, and I am here to keep My promise. Will you go to him and tell him that he must turn from his evil ways and repent?”
“So he’s alive,” Jami breathed with relief. “And yeah, of course I’ll go.”
“Can I go too?” Holli asked hopefully. “You said, both of us, didn’t you?”
“Yes, you shall go together. But I must warn you both, your brother is not the same person you knew before. He has walked deeply into the shadows, and his soul is stained with the darkness of his deeds. His power is now great, and he will not, I think, be eager to give it up.”
“You make it sound hopeless.”
“Nothing is hopeless, Jami, not ever. But listen to Me well. You are not to fight him, so do not enter into battle on his terms. If you would save him, you must be willing to forgive him as I have forgiven you, to love him as I have loved you. There is no other way. Are you still willing to go to him? The task is a hard one, and there is danger, that I promise you as well.”
Jami looked at Holli.
“Well, what do you think?”
“What do I think? Of course we go. If we don’t try to save him, then who will?” Holli put her hands on her hips. “Nobody, that’s who! So it’s got to be us.”
Khasar cleared his throat.
“I’ll go with them, Lord, if it is Your Will.”
“As will I,” added Daeliel.
Kherev nodded approvingly.
“I thought as much. It is well. Go with them, and take My blessing with you.” He placed one hand on Jami’s head, the other on Holli’s, and prayed aloud. “Father, protect these two, as they go to do Thy will. Be with them, even unto the end. Amen.”
As Kherev prayed over her, Jami felt a warm glowing sensation flow through her body, an electric tingle that swept away her lingering fears. All would be well, she thought, no matter what happened, God would be with them. That was all that mattered.
Chapter 26
Ruins of Righteousness
You cannot build a science to allay despair,
There is no atheism, God is everywhere.
So will you build a temple to the race of Man?
There is no separation, can’t you understand?
—Psykosonik (I Am God)
Christopher entered the dark sanctuary of the empty building with caution and a blade in either hand. He knew he hadn’t been followed, but he wasn’t certain of what to expect. Where was the legion? Where was Kaym? He had to be careful. Many among the Fallen, maddened by fear, were indiscriminately attacking anyone that came near them, regardless of their loyalties. Divine or Fallen, Christopher had no desire to get run through by anyone’s sword.
“Kaym?” he called, but an echo was the only reply. “Kaym, are you here?”
The palatial building had once housed many thousands of scripts, of one sort or another. There were lists of angels and their duties, paeans of praise to the Almighty, essays on the nature of Creation, and creative works of angelic inspiration. They were still there in one form or another, but many had unfortunately been destroyed by one of Baal Phaleg’s rampaging legions, which had made use of the building for the past fortnight. Now it stank, literally, to high heaven, and there was hardly a single wall that was not covered by some form of blasphemous graffiti or other vile pollution.
“Baal Phaoton,” he heard Kaym whisper quietly behind him.
Christopher whirled around to see the fallen angel standing in the shadows, shrouded by black wings, with a warning finger over his lips.
Heeding the warning, Christopher stepped closer and spread his hands in a questioning manner. The fallen angel pointed down the hall where Christopher had been heading and made a sign that indicated danger.
Christopher nodded and gestured with his sword that Kaym should precede him, but his mentor shook his head. Kaym pulled his grey robe aside, and Christopher gasped at the sight of the grievous wound that marred the white skin of the angel’s chest. Clearly, Kaym was too drained by the battle to heal himself, and he was in no shape to fight. Christopher reached out to him, thinking perhaps he could heal the angel, but Kaym shook his head and urgently indicated the hall again. Okay, dude, whatever you say, Christo
pher thought. He bowed his head obediently and began to walk carefully towards the hall.
He walked down one carpeted corridor, and up a wide marble stairway that led to the great hall that was the heart of the Scriptorium. It was a vast room, with a domed ceiling arching over three floors, several sets of stairs, and row upon row of shelves covered with the shredded papyrus that was all that remained of many priceless scrolls. In the center of the room was a platform, upon which rested the blasted shards of a destroyed statue, but it was not the statue that caught his attention, it was the four figures, angels all, sitting as if they’d been waiting for him on the square base of the platform.
He saw the four Divines rise and begin to move towards him. He could see that the biggest one was an archon, large and powerful, and full of leonine grace. The other three were lesser angels, more or less, and he dismissed them for the moment as he focused on the archon.
He dropped into a fighting crouch and stepped towards the right, towards the winged lion, making sure that the others could not circle behind him. His blades flared to life with a dark, purplish light, and he whispered a spell that would deflect anything hurled at him.
“Ohmigod, is that thing Chris?”
“It is! Christopher, it’s me. Put your sword down!”
The figures stopped their approach, as they realized that he was no weak and easy prey. He sensed the tables turning, for he could see they felt his power. Now he was the stalker, the predator, the hunter-killer. He moved closer, almost ready to strike.
“Christopher, what are you doing?”
The voice sounded fearful, almost hysterical. He fed on the fear, savoring it, a tasty treat that only whetted his appetite for destruction.
“Don’t you recognize us, Chris?”
“Get back,” a third voice commanded. It was the big archon, and he was moving to place himself between Christopher and the other three. “He is swallowed in his sin. He does not know you anymore.”
