by Deena Remiel
***
Plumes of dust settled over broken bits of furniture while small rocks continued to topple precariously around Hannah. She had assumed that when the cave-in began that she was not long for this world. But as she stood there in her stupor, gazing at the destruction she had unwittingly wrought, she realized that nothing had touched nor harmed her in the least. There wasn’t a trace of dust or debris to be found anywhere on her body. Namirha’s protections must have created an impenetrable zone around her.
She had thought herself sealed in forever, but when the air had cleared of the dust and debris well enough, a shaft of light shined down in front of her feet. She followed its path with her eyes and found herself looking at a hole in the roof about the size of her bed pillow. Her freedom was close at hand!
Namirha had put her in the so-called living room area of the dwelling. Moving cautiously about and looking through the rubble, she saw that most everything was broken. But if chosen well, she could still make a workable staircase from the wreckage. Being only a small child, the opening appeared miles high even though it wasn’t too far from the floor.
She chose a large trunk, that hadn’t suffered too badly, to begin her staircase, and placed a side table on top. Then she put a couple of chairs on top of that. With those pieces stacked, she figured she could climb through the hole and hoist herself up and out. She took a deep breath, said a little prayer, and started her ascent. When she reached to put her hands through the hole, she was met with the unexpected: an invisible wall. She patted her palms against this wall to find that it completely covered the opening.
She let out a frustrated yell, but quickly stifled it for fear of another cave-in. Namirha must have shielded the entire room so Agremon couldn’t get in. But now, she couldn’t get out!
“Crap, crap, crap!” Hannah muttered. Then she did something completely bizarre considering her tenuous situation, she giggled. If her mother knew she’d said that word, she’d wash her mouth out with soap. And then her giggle became a chuckle, which turned into a belly laugh. Her laughter became almost maniacal. And then her laughter turned to sobbing. Her mother. She’d give anything to hear her mother scold her right now.
Hannah fell to the floor in a tiny heap. She needed her mother desperately. She was only a six-year-old girl, not even. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do now. “I want my Mama!” she wailed. And then, as she listened to her own crying, she realized hers was the only voice in her head. Hers was the only heart beating. Where was the Ancient Warrior soul? She thought it silly, but she lifted her head to look around and, of course, saw no one.
As she rested her head on her arms again, someone rested theirs on her shoulder. A tender gesture meant to give encouragement. She peered up to find a smiling angel dressed in a golden suit of armor sitting beside her. The angel was no bigger than she, its wings spanning wider than its height. She reached out to touch this angel, and her hand passed right through its body. She knew then she was looking at the Ancient Warrior itself.
“I am not Mother, nor Father, but I can be both for you, now. I am here for you, child, as you have been most gracious in welcoming me. Come and rest in my arms, little Hannah. There is so much yet for us to do. Until we are free to do so, I will surround you with my presence and give you the peaceful rest you so richly deserve.”
The Ancient Warrior beckoned her to its lap. Hannah crawled over and quickly nestled in its arms. She looked up at the Ancient Warrior’s face and said simply, “Thank you.” Its wings enveloped her. Safe and comforted, she drifted off to sleep.
***
Agremon knew Namirha would be pissed when they flashed into Hannah’s home. He’d dared to touch Namirha and handled him with little finesse when doing so. But Agremon was in charge here, and it felt good.
Namirha turned around, surveying the lay of the land. They were in a cozy room with a fireplace and a mantle filled with pictures. He recognized the child in the photo as Hannah. “So this is where you took us—Hannah’s home. How apropos for our discussion. Don’t waste my time Agremon,” Namirha spat out with disdain. He absently picked up a picture frame and then tossed it to the floor. “Tell me what you want.”
“I’ll get straight to it, then.” Agremon sat down on the oversized chair, leaned back and folded his arms, exude overwhelming confidence. “You need the knife, I need the girl. I say we pool our resources and both go after the prize.”
Namirha rested a hand on the mantle and turned, his face holding no expression. “You’re offering a deal to share the girl’s powers between us?”
“Yes, I am willing to share. As you can see, I’ve proven to be a worthy adversary or should you choose, a wise partner. It’s up to you. I do have the means to retrieve the girl and go it alone. I thought I’d offer you a partnership given how long we’ve known each other. A professional courtesy, if you will. So that is my offer. Take it or leave it. One way or the other, I will have the girl’s powers.”
Agremon couldn’t wait to see Namirha’s reaction to his win/win proposal. Now who’s the Master? he thought smugly.
Namirha was silent for a few moments. He walked to the window, turned, and paced back toward the fireplace. He pointed a decrepit finger at Agremon. “If you want a share of the girl’s powers, then you’ll have to do it my way. We wait for her birthday as originally planned.” Namirha fidgeted with his hands and rubbed them as though putting on lotion. “Since we’ll be sharing them, it is vital that we wait for her powers to be at full strength. You bring the knife and I’ll bring the girl to the stone altar on Thursday by six o’clock. We’ll sacrifice her together at precisely six minutes after six. When her blood mixes with ours, we shall be more powerful than any immortal creature.”
“Agreed.” Agremon stood, easily towering over the withering Master of Evil. He intentionally stood close enough to look down upon him. “Nice doing business with you, Namirha. I knew you’d see things my way.” He eased off a bit, leaning against the mantle and knocking off the remaining pictures in the process. “Now, about these Brethren. You know they’re going to try everything in the book to keep this sacrifice from happening. I say we increase our minions to keep them good and busy for the next few days.”
“I agree. Keep them occupied round the clock. Even their powers can fade over time without some kind of regeneration.”
“Then they’ll be vulnerable and I can rid us of them once and for all.”
“Oh, Agremon, you know better than that,” Namirha reminded him glibly. “You can hurt them and drain their powers temporarily, but you can’t kill them.”
“Yes, of course you’re right, Namirha. I guess I got carried away with the thought of ultimate power at my fingertips.” Stupid ass, Agremon scolded himself. You almost gave yourself away! Just shut up and don’t fuck it up! “Thursday, then. Don’t try anything screwy, Namirha. I’ll be watching you.”
“As I you, Agremon.” He quickly flashed out of Hannah’s house.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Namirha decided it was best not to return to his lair. He was confident his shields held Hannah within while keeping others out. Besides, knowing that she was there was too enticing. He didn’t care about the deal he’d made with Emma. He’d gotten Hannah away from Agremon to benefit himself. He did care, however, that he should get all of Hannah’s powers, and that wouldn’t be possible for three days. Three impossible days. So he decided to head to The Source’s vacant headquarters and wait it out, while keeping a close eye on Agremon’s movements. He would surely pay for his betrayal. Namirha relished the many possibilities he could unleash for the rest of Agremon’s eternity. Those very evil possibilities improved his disposition exponentially.
***
Just as it looked to Kemuel as though the angels had gotten the upper hand, another wave of demons appeared to start the onslaught anew. Thousands of angels reasserted their lethal dominance, led stalwartly by Nathanael, Seraphiel, and him. But Kemuel knew the Brethren were tiring and woul
d need a break soon.
Nathanael, Seraphiel! Kemuel called out through his mind. We should rotate command so we can renew our powers. We can’t keep this up indefinitely, and I’ve a feeling when these hordes are dispatched, there will be more right behind them.
You got it! Nathanael called back. You go first, Kemuel, we’ll keep things running like a well oiled machine.
Fifteen minutes. That’s all I need, brother. And with that, Kemuel flew off. As he did, he cursed their manifested constraints of human form.
***
Night turned into day which blended into night and day once again, with no sign of the war letting up. As weary as Emma had thought she was, and worried she wouldn’t be able to continue past the first few hours of healing, miraculously, she indeed trudged on. Something had grown within her, a never-ending source of power and determination that kept her diligently saving those who could be saved.
She made her way across the battlefield and was horrified by the scenes around her. The brutal carnage that Saviors were too late to stop, the regret that hung in the air as angelic souls made their way home for the last time, was nearly too much for her to comprehend. That this wasn’t some sort of nightmare, that it was a reality she wished no one would ever have to endure ever again sliced through her heart like a thousand daggers. She could hear Raphael’s voice in her head at one point. “We can never save them all, Emma. It is the way of things.��
“Well, in my opinion, that is absolutely unacceptable. These people are innocents! How dare they be used as fodder in a war between immortals!” Emma spit back.
“It is the way of things,” Raphael spoke plainly, and he returned to his healing.
“Well it’s not my way, Raphael. I will find a way to save them all, mark my words!” But she got no reply.
***
Hannah remained secure in the arms of the Ancient Warrior. She slept for hour upon hour, day upon day, dreaming the most vivid of dreams. In her dream, she stood before a council of seven ancient souls, sitting on a golden dais, in a chamber whose very walls glowed with energy and radiated off soothing warmth. There was no ceiling above them, just a cloudy mist. Beneath her lay a smooth marble tile that cooled her feet. She was not afraid of these council members, but had the utmost of respect for them. They were talking in whispers to each other and then turned to her.
One spoke, “We are the Council of Ancient Souls. You are here because it has been ordained that you, Hannah, daughter of Emma, granddaughter of Mica, great granddaughter of Sima, shall be one part of the Trinity to usher in a new era of peace. In order to do so, we are giving you gifts that will lead us to victory over the darkness that threatens to expand its hold over our world.”
Another spoke, “Your first gift you have already received. The Ancient Warrior soul resides within you and shall remain with you until Evil has been vanquished. You have been afraid of letting the Ancient Warrior have all the control. Trust it, our child, and let this soul guide your hand and mind in battle.
“The second gift is the gift of immortality. You are but a child now, and you shall continue to grow and age as any mortal child. Yet when you reach your thirty-sixth birthday, you shall assume your immortal state and become one of the Brethren, as the leader of the Warriors.
“The third and final gift is that you alone will then possess the power to create or annihilate. Although your intuition will never steer you wrong, use this power with extreme discretion.”
“So is this why Namirha and Agremon want me? They want these powers?” Hannah asked.
“Indeed. As you can see, given the nature of these powers, they cannot gain possession of them or our reign over the universe will cease and Evil will rule,” one council member confirmed. “And now, Hannah, you must wake up and rejoin your Ancient Warrior soul. Namirha comes for you. You must be ready for the battle that is awaiting you at the stone altar. Good luck, our child. The prayers of millions are waiting to be answered and prophecy must be fulfilled.”
Hannah awoke alone, with a renewed sense of hope and purpose. She would let Namirha take her to the stone altar and wage the final assault with the Brethren at her side. She breathed deeply and tried to reconnect with her warriors, but it was no use. Namirha’s shield was blocking her efforts. She would have to wait until she reached the mesa before alerting them.
Light was blazing through the hole in the ceiling. She knew it was afternoon, but what she didn’t know was of what day. The council member had said Namirha was coming for her. Did that mean she had slept for nearly four days straight? Was Namirha going to show up any minute? Was today her birthday? Had it been a normal birthday, she would have called herself a big girl now. But she didn’t feel like a big girl. She still wanted her dolls, her stuffed toys, and her Mama.
She thought of her mother, and then thought better of it. Certainly, no good would come of that. Whatever her mother had done had been for Hannah’s protection. She had a dreadful feeling that she’d done something that could never be taken back, and Hannah would be living with that decision for the rest of her life. Not just any life, she thought absently, an eternity! She would be immortal! It was unfathomable to the child.
Suddenly, Hannah felt a little sizzle of energy nearby, and just that fast, the Ancient Warrior’s soul took over, having tucked little Hannah safely back into her corner. This time, there was no fear, no resistance. Namirha flashed before her and she took a defiant stance. Namirha’s eyes flashed with anger, and then let out a haughty laugh.
“Oh, Hannah, my daughter, you are as enchanting as you are petulant. Now, put your violent nature aside. By the looks of things around here, you can’t quite control the damage it can wield.”
“It will be a cold day in You-Know-Where when I ever think of myself as being your daughter, Namirha,” Hannah lashed out with an acid tongue.
“Well, bundle up, darling, because You-Know-Where’s about to freeze over,” Namirha snickered. “You see, your mother and I had a deal.”
“You said that before, and I’m not interested in your lies, Namirha. You’re trying to scare me, is all.”
“Oh, but it is no lie. Your mother bargained for your safety, you see. I am to keep you away from Agremon and tonight, I am allowed to partake of some of your blood, your power-rich blood. I’m not to sacrifice you, though, such is the pity. And since your mother has agreed to do that duty, well, you’re going to need a father to watch over you while you grow into a young lady and adult. I happen to fit the bill. That was our deal, Hannah; her life for yours. Are you getting chilly yet, ‘cause it’s getting mighty cold in Hell already. Come to Papa!” Namirha held out his arms as though waiting for her to embrace him.
Hannah was stunned and the Ancient Warrior soul was having difficulty navigating her back to her corner. She raised her fists, wishing she had her sword to run him through over and over again until he was good and dead. Her arms stayed steady as her legs took stilted steps toward him. Namirha moved a wary step back.
Easy little one, the Ancient Warrior soul soothed, we mustn’t let him get to your heart. We have a job to do. We must get to the battlefield and end this war. Go back to your corner, little one. I will handle it from here. Trust me. Hannah slowly lowered her balled hands and stood firm once again.
“You came to get me, didn’t you? Are we going back to the stone altar? Is it my birthday?” Hannah asked.
“Well, we’ve finally gotten around to the reason for my visit. And the answer is yes. I’m sure all of your guests are eagerly awaiting your appearance.”
“Do you have the ritual knife?”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head over the details. I’ll have it when I need it, rest assured.”
So he doesn’t have the knife yet. That wasn’t the best news.
Agremon was definitely stronger than Namirha right now, and definitely the most lethal. She would have to be very cautious when trying to retrieve the ritual knife from its sheath. Agremon had a shield on it. She would have
Michael render it null and void first.
“Time to go, my dear, and uh, no more questions. I don’t fancy you’ll like any answers I’ll have for you.”
“Just so you know, if I had my sword, I’d slice your hands off your arms so fast you wouldn’t even realize they were gone until you reached to pick your nose.”
“What a vivid image you’ve produced in my head, child. You really do have potential for evil. Such a pity you were born on the wrong side of the tracks. Yes, such the pity.” Namirha grabbed her arms and flashed them to the mesa, where the stone altar stood ready.
While trying to contain her impotent fury at having lost her sword, Hannah could hear screams and howls from below and knew the war waged on. She hoped that her mother and the Brethren were still alive. She instantly opened herself to feel for any threaded signature of her mother and what amounted to her extended family. Yes! They were all alive!
She called to them. I’m here at the stone altar. Come quickly! Namirha is waiting for Agremon to show with the ritual knife. I shall take it from him after Michael tears his shields to shreds. Warriors can then turn ugly on them both. Timing is everything right now. Come!
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Emma felt her daughter’s thread come crashing through her latest attempt at saving one of the angels. Thank the heavens she’s alive, she thought. But not out of danger. She looked over her shoulder to her rock and protector, who had been unwavering in his support during the past three days.
