The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Hell Above the Skies

by Ava D. Dohn

  * * *

  After nightfall, Chesse’s Glitter Brigade made camp along the series of hills where Generals DinChizki and PalaHar had earlier viewed the northern valley. Near the southern end of their bivouac lay a large evergreen woodland. Midnight found Jonathan and Chasileah working their way further into that thick growth of hemlocks and long-needle pines.

  Jonathan followed Chasileah along the hard-packed, snow-covered path. The night was cold and dark, but he could see enough to know that several feet had recently taken the same trail. Deeper and deeper they walked into seemingly endless forest, finally reaching an old wash that led them down into a small clearing. As he neared the opening, Jonathan noticed the dancing glow of a large blaze, which surprised him because of Chasileah’s order banning all fires. In moments, he was given an even bigger surprise.

  As Chasileah pulled him into the firelight, Jonathan saw countless eyes staring at them in greeting. He looked around at hundreds of soldiers suited in burnished, metallic armor, chain mail and helms. Each man and woman rested palms on a drawn sword. The shimmering beauty of all the pageantry almost blinded Jonathan. He was about to ask what was going on when his eyes were drawn to the far end of the glade.

  Snuggled under two giant hemlocks was a pitched tent woven in rich blues and purples braided with thick cords of golden rope. Two thin pillars supporting an awning that stretched above a purple and gold carpet were illuminated by a gentle glow coming from small windows in the tent. Now Jonathan was more bewildered than ever. Before he could ask any questions, Chasileah pulled him toward the fire, the crowd separating to allow them through.

  Chasileah stopped, turning around with her back to the flames. All eyes were fixed on them as she addressed Jonathan. “You are a man from the Realms Below. Weak in the flesh but strong in the spirit your kind are. Today that will all change, for today all those who have joined you here in our world will begin growing in knowledge and wisdom to the point of excess. Your power will become greater than ours,” She bowed her head, “for you will go in increasing while we go on decreasing.”

  Chasileah swept her arm in a wide arch. “We are the Children of Lagandow, the Keepers of the Promise, members of The Holy Order of the Seraphim.”

  “Long ago, before the children of Lowenah were born, this universe was the playground of the Cherubs. It was the Cherubs who tended the star systems, planted much of the wild life we still are discovering in strange worlds, and protected the lands we now call ‘home’. It was Lowenah’s intention for them to remain as the Seraphs - or wings - caring for matters until her children became wise and strong enough to take charge of these worlds.

  “As the fruitage of Mother’s belly increased and the numbers of children grew, the Cherubs slowly withdrew to a few planets in the galaxy. Most were hidden…still are. They are the planets connected by Mother’s trade routes. In time, the Cherubs disappeared from our lives. They became stories our mother and the more ancient children would tell us… stories of adventure and wonder.

  “For us younger children of the First Age, the stories of Cherubs eventually became myth and fable. The ancient runes and a few whispered words were all that remained of this mysterious people. Then something happened that changed everything.”

  Chasileah stepped up to Jonathan, taking his hands. “The Cherubs are a most beautiful and manly race. Their existence extents to the time before any material universe existed. Created within Lowenah’s mind and nurtured within her soul, the Cherubs were made in her exact likeness. Their wisdom and knowledge are beyond measure, Mother having given them all that was hers at the time of their making. But alas, Lowenah had not yet discovered who she really was, so her Cherubs never acquired emotions as we know them.

  “Because their hearts do not rule their minds with fickle emotions, they have the ability to detect minor disturbances in the harmonics of the universe - disturbances that Lowenah’s tender heart can no longer search out. What may just not feel right to us can be mathematically broken down into basic harmonic strands by the Cherubs. It was this Cherubic ability that led to the birth of the Children of Lagandow.”

  Jonathan started to interrupt with questions but Chasileah hushed him. “The Cherubs listened carefully to the minute disturbances of discord some of the children produced, deducing the mathematical possibilities of the danger posed. They believed that free will without laws could lead to a contaminated heart, because unfettered freedom gives opportunity for one to disregard principled love, the absolute equation. It wasn’t a matter of ‘if’ it could happen, but ‘when’. Without proper checks and balances, such an event, if not resisted, would cause the Web of the Universe to fray and finally disintegrate, destroying all life therein.

  “The Cherubs voiced their concerns to Mother. Although she did not wish to agree with the conclusions they had reached, she, in her wisdom, permitted them to act - with discretion - to set up a future protectorate for days when they no longer guarded the universe.

  “So it was that Lagandow came into being. As the children of the First Age grew in number, the Cherubs gathered individuals to their great educational center, secretly whisking them away aboard their shimmering, white ships. Each child taken was ‘perfectly harmonic’ as RosMismar, the chief over all the Cherubs would say. This term, ‘perfectly harmonic’, defined a child whose internal nature was so tuned with Lowenah’s qualities that it assured the child could never fall into the shadow of discord.”

  Chasileah scanned the many faces in the crowd. All were resolute and determined. There was also a great sadness showing, as well as expressions of resigned failure. “For six thousand years, these children of the Cherubs defended the universe, but were unable to stop the Rebellion. Although it was known over two millennia ago that children from the Realms Below would arrive to help secure the heavens, still it pains us to think we have not succeeded.”

  Tears grew in Chasileah’s eyes as she stepped back near the fire. “Time is fleeting and the hour draws ever closer. Suffice it to say this: When our training was complete, when all the chosen ones had passed through the fires of torment and despair, the Cherubs handed over to their new seed, their children by law, the golden wings or seraphs. These weapons represented the powers we were to use should the discord arise. Then the Cherubs departed, burning the Lagandow star system to ashes in symbol that their part in protecting all things had come to an end.

  “Thus the First Age came to a close. Long ago it was. Most of Lowenah’s children were not yet born and grew up hearing only whimsical tales regarding the Cherubs. They eventually became little more than bedtime stories for the babes. Soon they were forgotten completely. And we, the few, the ones privileged to have lived among them, soon became sleepy, enjoying the rich life and prosperity our world offered. We forgot to watch and observe the harmonics for discord. We did not remember to teach and warn the others about the dangers of unfettered freedom.

  “And so it came to be, among the very wisest and most ancient, the darkness grew and no heed was paid. Many of the women from our secret order even enjoyed the company of the men who were scheming hurtfulness in their hearts. The signs were there but we ignored them, forgetting the cautious warnings our mentors provided. When we awoke to the danger, it was too late. Murder was already afoot. War was now the only option available if we were to bring this evil to an end.

  “The wars have come and gone. By fighting them we have gained time - time for Lowenah to prepare herself for the loss of her oldest child and his followers - time for you, the children of the Lower Realms to arrive - and time for Shiloh, whose lineage will make him the greatest of all the Seraphim.

  “But we have paid the price for our foolishness. The many thousands of our kind who were here at the start of rebellion are now only several hundred. And after tomorrow’s contest we shall be little more than a shadow of the once great warrior nation that has fought to restrain our brother’s evil. No longer can
the Children of Lagandow stand alone against the powers of Asotos and his henchmen.”

  The wind above the trees picked up, whistling cold and hard. Along with it came showers of snow. Yet the flames in the hollow nary flickered. Chasileah’s voice became powerful as she called out. “We are the children by law! We have waited for your race, the children of the flesh for, in your re-creation, Lowenah has taken the blood of her Cherubs and mixed it with her own to produce your race. Each of you has been born here a Seraphim. By blood, you have the power of Lagandow.”

  Chasileah’s arms shot skyward as she shouted, “Now you must take your place beside us! You must lift up the blade and take your rightful place in our midst as the true Sons of the Cherubs!”

  Instantly, a chorus of voices filled the glade with a chanting. It continued to grow in intensity and with it the wind began to howl in symphonic harmony. The fire erupted with brightness and glory. At that, Chasileah turned and reached into the inferno. Jonathan panicked and started to jump forward, shouting, only to be stunned into silence as he watched her pull her arm, unscathed, from the flames.

  In her hand was a shimmering blade in the shape of a two-handed saber. Burning colors of red, blue and gold raced along its blinding-white edge. Chasileah took the sword in her hands, and bowing while bending down on one knee, offered it to Jonathan.

  “Here, my Lord.” She begged, “Take this seraph that has been forged by our fathers in secret places, and conclude with your servants a covenant so that you may share with us your power, so we may become one flesh with you.”

  Jonathan was hesitant. He was in a near state of shock. Only a little while ago he had been bedding down his horse and thinking about the coming morrow. Now his mind raced with strange and wondrous things. Yet, as he thought, they weren’t so strange. In his heart he had known everything Chasileah told him was true. It was as if she had only reminded him of things long forgotten, things revealed to him as he slept in the Field of the Minds.

  With caution and timidity, Jonathan slowly reached for the sword. It burned hot in his eyes, but was cool to the touch. He looked into Chasileah’s face. Tears ran down her cheeks while her lips quivered in trepidation and her fingers shook in little tremors. Fear - fear and disquiet showed in her appearance. If Jonathan refused to pass his power onto her through a covenant of the blood, then her race would pass into oblivion. Her race was dying, Tolohe’s sickness evidence of its final destiny. If they were to regain their former glory, it must come through this one man, this night. But Jonathan had free will. He could refuse Chasileah’s request, thus keeping the winning glory for his kind to treasure.

  Jonathan began to weep. He set his sword aside, reached down, taking Chasileah’s hand and pulling her up. With his other hand, he stroked her hair. “Never have I loved a woman as I love you. Already my heart is one with yours. How could I ever deny you one thing, especially since we have shared our dreams, as is the custom of your people? You are my Lord. Lead me and I shall follow.”

  Amid the continual chanting filled with shouts and joyous cries, Chasileah led Jonathan to the tent at the far end of the glade. Pulling back the heavy curtain, she entered, drawing Jonathan in by his hand. Moments later, a dozen fiery static flames settled down around the tent. The chanting increased in pitch and fervor until it sounded as if the entire wood was joining in.

  The night storm howled above the trees while hundreds of voices called out to their fathers to listen to their pleas for redemption, allowing them to be reborn through this union of two seraphim, one from the old order, the other from the new. They again offered themselves as whole burnt offerings on the altar of war, requesting the strength to fulfill their vows as watchers and protectors. They cried out in the tongue of the Cherubs, “Let us become as one with our brothers from below, so we may end forever this threat upon ZoeStethos’ heart and regain our dignity.”

  Eventually the sounds of passion coming from the tent joined in with the chorus of chants and songs. Finally, in rushing wails of ecstasy, the vocal gasps of orgasmic release reached a crescendo, passing away into silence. The chanting stopped as did the wind. Crackling of the giant fire was all that could be heard. Everyone waited, breathless. Had the Cherubs listened and accepted their request? Was there to be a future for the old order, or were they to pass into the shadows like the Cherubs did long ago?

  The fire suddenly flared up, reaching to the tops of the trees. From deep within the blaze a voice spoke causing the trees to shake with its resonance. “It has come to pass!”

  With that, the fire turned into a blinding inferno, filling the glade and racing far into the forest. A pillar of white light shot into the heavy clouds, reaching out with fingers of fearsome, silent lightning that cascaded around the globe and into the starry heavens.

  Most witnessing the event did not comprehend what had happened and, until this writing, the truth has not been shared. Some people attributed it to the strange weather found on MueoPoros. Others likened it to what the people of the Lower Realms called ‘St. Elmo’s fire’. Among the Pseudes it was generally taken as an omen, some believing it to be good, others feeling the opposite. But to the members of the Holy Order of the Seraphim it meant a rebirth, a new life.

  High above the planet, in a small room secreted away from all eyes, Tolohe rested on her bed. With a shudder, energy raced through her body, at once revitalizing her while at the same moment drawing away many of her secret powers. At long last the tumult subsided. Tolohe sighed with relief. She no longer felt the weight of the universe pressing down on her. Another person was to rise who would now carry that burden with renewed strength and energy.

  Gradually, the woman relaxed, thousands of years of stress slowly draining from her body. Oh yes, there were many obstacles still facing her. And her loneliness remained. She closed her eyes to sleep. For the first time in ages, her mind let go and drifted off into the world of dreams. Tolohe now found herself in the arms of the man promised her. Soon - soon he would come, RosMismar had promised. When this battle for MueoPoros was finished, he would return.