Eternity

by Nealis, James

  So why do I not feel victorious?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The FINAL STONE

  “OH AND APOPHOS!” Tinus laughs. “He looked like he was choking on a mountain.”

  Auro laughs heartily as Uriel spoons manna onto his plate. His mouth already filled with food as it is. His greedy stomach clearly dictates that he not leave more for the rest of us.

  “How are you feeling?” Christine places her hand on my side.

  I shake my head indicating I don’t really want to answer that question. The pain still radiates through my whole body. Thankfully, I can at least walk around and move now. The sword injury was bad and could very well have been fatal.

  I suppose I have been close enough to death’s door twice now, but some part of myself has refused to allow me to cross that threshold.

  “The Healers are sadists who parade around as Healers,” I say. “They cause as much pain as they possibly can without letting you die.”

  “But to be fair,” Christine says, “you are alive and mobile.”

  The Frosted enters the great dining hall. The burn mark from my once, burning hand is prominently displayed on his neck. Multiple cuts from our encounter, have also not healed.

  “I can’t believe you defeated the Rogue,” Uriel says. “That was epic.”

  “He’s not a Rogue,” I say.

  “What?” Christine chokes on a morsel of food. “Did I hear that right?”

  “Yeah,” Auro says. “Where is this coming from?”

  Out of respect, I choose not to reveal what the Frosted told me on the battlefield. Yet in my heart it all makes sense; I too could cause great harm and pain to others if I lost control of my rage. If I hadn’t projected all my hatred and bile toward the Frosted, then maybe I would have chosen another object of disdain. My hatred would have caused me to be more vile and bitter than he ever was.

  “I was wrong,” I say. “I could tell by the way he fought.”

  “I don’t buy it,” Uriel says. “He’s definitely a Rogue.”

  “Oh really now?” Christine says going red faced. “After all this time you argue he isn’t, and now that Michael makes peace with the fact he is just a giant jerk and not the enemy, you have to jump on the ‘he’s a Rogue argument.’”

  I used to find their banter annoying, but now it has become so familiar and such a part of life here in the training camps that it brings me a smile. It reminds me of home for some reason. A place I haven’t been to since Terra left this planet.

  “Who do you think will get the stone?” Auro says.

  “Michael deserves it,” Christine says. “He has deserved it from the very beginning.”

  “I think you all should get one,” I say. “Including Celles and Tinus.”

  “They were amazing,” Christine says, almost shouting into my ear. “You should have seen what they did with the two Rogues guarding Sal’s sigil. It’s astounding the Healers where able to bring those scoundrels back at all.”

  “Auro's plan was pure genius,” Uriel says. “He knew you and the Frosted would get so caught up with each other. It would keep him from considering the possibility that the sigil might not be in the keep. Absolutely brilliant.”

  Auro grins.

  The Prince enters the dining hall. His face, beaming as we all rise to our feet in respect for his entrance. This time, however, he does not motion for us to sit down. Instead he leaves us to stand as he makes his entire entrance up to the front of the room.

  Sal, Raphael, and the Frosted follow him.

  The three of them stand at attention as the Prince begins his address.

  “My children,” he begins. “This is your final day as trainees and your first day as soldiers. A dangerous army of Rogues and vile murderers wait for you to meet them in combat. This war will be dangerous, but I have every confidence that with your newly acquired skills and your wisely selected leaders, you will be able to thwart them. Our world depends upon it.”

  “I now hold in my hand the only remaining stone.” He says. “This is the last and final opportunity for you to achieve a rank by my hands for all eternity. So now, I will take the vote, one by one from your captains. First I call upon Captain Salidryl to cast his vote.”

  Sal walks up toward the Prince. I see that his skin too is riddled with scars and scrapes. I remember how quickly his troops were besieged. I feel bad as I think about this but I can’t help it. Did he have any real strategy at all to defeat us? It seems his every act is devoid of any true ingenuity.

  “It has been my honor to guide you all through your training,” Sal says stepping forward. “In the beginning, you may be surprised to hear this but even I didn’t know what we were doing.”

  “No surprise there!” Uriel shouts loudly. “You were like a mouse trying to teach us to squeak the enemy to death.”

  I have no idea what that last part of Uriel’s tirade meant, but I can’t help but laugh a little.

  Sal shakes his head trying to ignore the jab from Uriel and continues. “For me today, this vote is easy. He was the most exemplary of all the recruits and I believe that he should have been the first to receive the stone. Perhaps even before me to be completely honest.”

  I am humbled as he calls out my name. I am not surprised as our friendship has endured so much over the years. I smile and raise my hand in acknowledgment for my friend’s vote of confidence even though he knows that in some sense it is a throw away vote.

  Uriel leans in close. “He’s right you know. Even if he is Captain Sycophant.”

  I try not to laugh out of respect for Sal who just paid me such a large and public compliment.

  Raphael now steps forward to take Sal’s place. There is not even a slight scar on one inch of his fat body. His hair looks like it has not even moved since the encounter in the woods.

  “Let me begin by saying that it’s hard sometimes for me to grasp that I am one of your great and esteemed leaders.” Raphael’s words exit his mouth as if peppered with belches. “But here I stand, a respected leader of many warriors who look up to and respect me.”

  Christine puts her spoon to her mouth and makes a gagging motion

  “So, I take this honor very seriously and I choose today’s very deserving recipient to receive my vote for the stone.”

  I look around at my friends. The anxiety is so thick it feels like it weighs down on my back.

  Auro's eyes light up brightly with anticipation. While Christine taps her fingers on the table. Uriel crams another spoonful of manna into his mouth and chews it anxiously.

  “I choose Apophos,” Raphael says. “He may not have been on my team, but he was the most deserving.”

  “Apophos!” Uriel spits the food out. “He wasn’t even on the winning team.”

  “Is that allowed?” Christine turns to me. “I mean what on Earth is with that?”

  I have no idea. I look to Auro.

  “Well,” Auro says. “They never said you had to win to get the stone in this competition. This was our opportunity to show our worth.”

  “I guess,” Christine says. “But that feels so unfair.”

  The entire room buzzes with mumbles and murmurs. Apophos and a few of the recruits bang their forks to their plates with excitement.

  The Frosted stands up before us. His smile seems less prideful to me now. Instead, it looks more contrived, almost as if he is trying to put on airs just to be more intimidating. I don’t revile him now; I pity him.

  “My team may not have won this competition but our dominance was undeniable in so many areas,” he says. “I am pleased, but the fact is in the end we were defeated by a force stronger than our own.”

  Uriel drops his spoon to his plate. “By goodness, I think that he intends to actually choose someone from our team. Our own captain ignores us yet the bloody Rogue acts fairly?”

  The Frosted continues, “Raphael’s team acted with strategy and brilliance and that was by no fault of Raphael.”

  Snickers and sn
ide laughs can be heard sporadically through the chambers. Raphael shoots a dirty look toward the Frosted who doesn’t even take notice of it.

  “So for me, this choice is completely obvious. I do not have to wrestle with it. I choose Michael. He is the most deserving of us all to lead us and seek vengeance on the Rogues.”

  My mouth drops and I don’t know how to command my own legs to stand.

  Christine grabs me by the shoulders and embraces me as I sit.

  Uriel tosses his plate of food and jumps to his feet with a shout.

  “Go on up,” Auro says, leaning in with a smile.

  I rise to my feet. My breaths feel shallow as I almost pant. I can feel the eyes of all the other recruits looking at me. I know their faces; I feel their judgments. Some of them are pleased while others feel that Apophos, based merely on his being the strongest of us all, deserved the award.

  I stand now beside the Prince. To think of it, I don’t even remember the entire walk up here. It’s as if I blinked and here I am.

  “Michael,” the Prince says, “I could not be any more pleased to see this decision by your captains. Not only is it a credit to your warrior’s spirit, but it shows the wisdom and dignity of your co-captains.”

  The Prince lifts the stone out from his robe and gently lays the necklace around my neck. The cold metal chains pinch my neck as they shuffle. The stone ultimately drops just below my throat. I lift it and inspect it with my fingertips. The green emerald is almost as big as my palm. Rounded, but still faceted, the light gleams in and out of the stone, reflecting bright colorful light onto my chest.

  The Prince directs me to speak and I look out onto all of the expectant eyes.

  “We have all endured so much,” I say. “Thank you all for your willingness to fight beside me going forward. I want nothing more than to see them suffer. I want to know that the Rogues remember the day they meet me; the day they meet all of you. Let’s cause them ultimate pain. Let’s send them to the grave where they belong.”

  Shouts erupt before I even stop speaking.

  The Prince pats me on the back and Sal gives me a hug as I walk back to stand beside the three other captains. The Prince returns to face the room.

  “Enjoy your meals” he says. “Celebrate and be merry this night. But tomorrow begins the real battle. Tomorrow you will fight a real war. You will fight for your very lives and the very world we enjoy.”

  The others cheer but in my mind, all I can think about is the Rogue with the crisscrossed scar. I can’t wait to run my blade through his flesh.

  Act 3

  The Traitor

  How you have fallen from heaven, morning star, son of the dawn! You have been cast down to the earth, you who once laid low the nations! You said in your heart, I will ascend to the heavens; I will raise my throne above the stars of God; I will sit enthroned on the mount of assembly, on the utmost heights of Mount Zaphon. I will ascend above the tops of the clouds; I will make myself like the Most High But you are brought down to the realm of the dead, to the depths of the pit.

  Isaiah 14:12-15

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The War of the Rogues

  THE INSECT’S disproportionately large red eyes look up at me as its translucent wings rise up slowly and then fall back down onto its black body. The tiny hairs on its chest brush against my skin as it moves an inch up the back of my dirt covered hand, stopping only to kick back its hind legs against each other. The creature’s movements are sporadic, as if directed by bursts of intermittent lightning.

  It’s hard for me to look at creatures like this one and not think of all the years of design he represents. Somewhere in this world, another angel, a Designer like an angel I once knew, spent his years crafting and forming the creature. He felt that this creature could make the world a better place.

  But months of pursuing the Rogues has taught me better.

  I press my finger against the insect. I slowly push harder and harder until I feel its crusty body crack and crush onto my palm.

  I rub my hands on my shirt, creating a brown smudge of indiscernibly mangled parts and fluid. My eyes gaze elsewhere as I stand upon this vast rocky cliff, overlooking the calm ocean below.

  “Captain, I’ve selected twenty soldiers. They are prepared.”

  Christine, my under-captain, rubs her palm down her face as she speaks, smearing the blood from a newly formed cut on her forehead, onto her chin. Barely perceptible, dark circles seem to be building under her eyes, most likely due to the strain of this protracted war. The brown and rusted links of her chainmail armor catch upon each other, resisting her movements as she steps toward me.

  “We await your command.”

  “Very good,” I say.

  “This wasn’t his first scouting assignment,” Christine says. “He of all people should have known better. How could he not be more careful?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Rogues are murderous animals. I won’t leave him down there with them.” I drop my sword into the large sack lying on the ground. “We will continue to play our roles. Remove your armor and follow my lead.”

  A wintery gust of wind blows up the earthy rock-face and bites my skin as I peer down over the ledge toward the water below. I delay for a moment, knowing that I will soon be greeted with an icy embrace.

  I leap from the cliff, feet first. My wings catch the air and turn me face downward into a dive. I extend my hands in front of me and splash through the frigid water. A shiver creeps up my spine as the bitter cold surges all around me.

  I open my eyes.

  The sun injects what appear to be bright rods of luminescence darting here and there contrasting with the wet darkness. I glide through the beams as I descend, with one, quick, forceful paddle. Then suddenly, I struggle against an invisible force which slows my progress. The current flowing busily, pushes against me as I descend toward the stony lake floor. Apparently, under the surface the waterway’s activity is far more resistant than it appeared back up on that now distant cliff.

  The rest of my soldiers make contact with the water up at the surface. A spattering of miniature water explosions, the bubbles surge down beneath them. The pockets of air then desperately rise back up to the surface, like round spheres of captured sunlight

  Christine gracefully swims up alongside me. Her long brown hair flows behind her. She carries a large pack on her back and appears as if she is more comfortable in the water than she is on her feet. She points toward the cave on the underside of the cliff. I hold my palm out, indicating to her to let me approach first.

  I wade forward but my motions are slow and labor intensive. My huge wings catch the water and pull me back whenever another burst of current catches me, but I struggle on and enter the dark opening in the rocks.

  The sun’s rays no longer have access, leaving an intense darkness. I can’t even tell when my eyes blink. But the walls light up around me as I channel my passions. My skin heats up and radiates the now all too familiar bright red, though I don’t fully ignite due to the water pressing down all around me.

  I spot the entrance to the tavern above, what looks like a round natural archway at the water’s surface.

  Ascending faster and faster, I burst out of the water, fly up into the moist air of the cavern, and let my wings drift me back down to the dry cave ground. My gifting fully ignites now. The crimson light dances around pointed shadows of stalagmites. I wait for a moment, in the quiet, catching my breath.

  Angels emerge from water and land all around me.

  “It’s good to feel the soft touch of water again, isn’t it?” Uriel’s beard clings to his neck in wet clumps. He leans over, dropping a large case of weapons onto the stone floor. The hair on the top of his head swirls above him as if he were caught in some sort of whirlpool twirling it into loops. “Why can’t all of our strategies involve deep water dives?”

  “We weren’t all marine Designers,” Tinus says, leaning forward to grab his ax from Uriel’s packet. “I have to say it’
s remarkable what you two can do in this water.”

  “We need to keep moving,” Christine says, dropping her bag onto the ground and ignoring the compliment.

  “She’s right,” I say. “If there is any chance of saving him, that chance dwindles with each passing second.”

  I march ahead, my steps quickened by the urgency of the threat that awaits our friend. I also let my mind wander to the same question I always anticipate the answer to every time that I launch an attack on a Rogue establishment. Will this be the moment that I encounter him? My desire for revenge against him, the destroyer of my world, grows stronger with each battle we wage.

  And there has been no shortage of conflicts since we left the training. We confronted them all across the globe. Their methods are sporadic and unpredictable, but the Rogues demonstrated that they are quite advanced in their tactics of warfare. Sometimes, they approach a battle even more prepared than we do, but that has only driven us to become more rabid killers.

  To make things worse, they seem to vary their strategies by region, which makes them incredibly difficult to exterminate.

  When we faced them in the North, they fought by hiding amongst the trees. They painted their bodies with camouflage. They ambushed us before we even knew of their presence. We lost many good soldiers and would have probably lost even more if Sal’s warriors had not joined us.

  In contrast, we clashed with the Rogue armies to the west. They marched out onto the snowy fields, full force with completely decorated armies. The sheer number of spears caused me to second guess my order to advance.

  The cavern dead ends except for a small hole. I sheathe my sword and drop to my knees. The light from the other cavern shines bright enough that I allow my flames to die down.

  Four naked Rogues stand at the end of the domed red tavern. Pools of water reflect the multiple candelabras spread throughout the chambers.

  “See anything?” Uriel asks.

  I press my finger to my mouth and point toward the opening.