The Tear of Gramal

by Phillip Jones

A grin appeared on Gabriel’s face. “We didn’t. We made an assumption.”

  “You made an assumption?” Anahita snapped. “How could you be sure you made the right call?”

  Gabriel’s grin widened as he closed the door to the shack. “We were forced to react. We were not sure we made the right decision. We simply reacted to what we felt a mind like Lasidious’ would do.”

  Anahita rolled her eyes and walked to the table. She claimed the other seat and then lowered her head into the palms of her hands. “You’re telling me you got lucky. That’s all you’re saying. I can’t believe how crazy this is.”

  She looked across the room. “At least tell me why Bassorine, or Michael if you will, allowed the beings on this plane to pray to him? Didn’t he fear the consequences of the Almighty?”

  “No.”

  “How could he not? That goes against everything the Almighty commands.”

  Gabriel shrugged. “There is no good answer. By now, Michael and I—”

  Anahita cut in. “Who are you ... really? You can’t just be a book.”

  Instead of responding, Gabriel transformed into his true self. As Anahita’s eyes witnessed the change, she boasted, “I knew it! I knew you weren’t a book. Tell me who you are.”

  The archangel spread his wings and smiled. “I was known as Gabriel. I possess the same name now only because I influenced the members of the Collective into believing that it was the proper choice over the last 10,000 seasons.”

  “How in the heck did you influence a group of folks over 10,000 seasons?”

  Gabriel smirked, “Subtly, of course.”

  Anahita could not stop herself from smiling. “But, of course. Whatever was I thinking?”

  Once Gabriel stopped laughing, he continued. “You asked why Bassorine allowed the beings on this plane to pray to him. Your answer is simple, I suppose. With you not at his side and our brother, Lucifer, destroyed, Michael changed. For many, many seasons, he fell into a great depression. Over those seasons, his love for you faded, and he sought to appease his ego with the prayers of others.”

  Clearing his throat, the archangel summoned a mug of water. Once his thirst had been quenched, he continued. “It wasn’t until Bassorine learned of Lasidious’ desire to betray the Collective that he reclaimed his calling. He feared the freedom he was trying to offer you would be taken from you. He further feared that our brother would not become the man we wanted him to become.

  “After much discussion, Michael and I decided a better plan was in order. We would need to make the necessary adjustments if we were to continue with our plan to allow you and the Morning Star to live again.”

  Anahita stood from her chair. “So how’s that plan working for you?”

  “Not as well as we would’ve hoped. It appears Lasidious knew who you were, and if he didn’t, he knew enough about you to know you were a threat. But how he knew, we haven’t discovered. Our only leverage over Lasidious is that he still believes the Book of Immortality has the power to destroy him.”

  “Well, do you?” Anahita questioned.

  “As I have said, I do not ... nor does Michael, and neither does the rest of the Collective. Lasidious’ power has surpassed ours, though the members of the Collective don’t know it. The numbers of those who pray to Lasidious’ name have increased drastically. It is for this reason he has become so powerful.”

  “Goodness-gracious! What are you going to do about it?”

  The archangel smiled. “We will play the game better than Lasidious.”

  Anahita rolled her eyes. “Let me guess. Everyone is a chess piece, and it’s all about keeping as many pieces on the board as you possibly can. I’ve heard that before.”

  Gabriel grinned. “You sound like Michael, but this isn’t a simple game of chess. You, Anahita, are the only being who can stand between Lasidious and total domination. If he finds a way to amplify his power, or if he realizes his power before you’re finished creating the new Heaven, you won’t be able to stand against him. It is for this reason that you must expedite your growth. For only through creation can the power be acquired to win a battle of this magnitude.”

  A long silence fell across the shack while Anahita digested everything she had learned. Eventually, she walked to the door, opened it, stepped onto the threshold and looked into the darkness. “I need to understand something before I get started.” She turned to face Gabriel. “When I learned that Bassorine was really Michael, he said something that stuck with me. You know … something beyond the whole ‘you’re the love of my life’ garbage. He said I’ll become more powerful than the mightiest being on Ancients Sovereign.”

  “And you will,” Gabriel added, “if Lasidious doesn’t come to understand his power first.”

  Anahita held up her hand. “Hush for a moment, will you? I’m trying to get out a full thought over here.”

  “I apologize. Please, continue.”

  “The problem is … considering what you’ve just told me about me dying … if Lasidious is already more powerful than both you and Bassorine, how could I possibly become more powerful than Lasidious. I guess what I’m trying to say is … if I wasn’t powerful enough to protect myself from Michael’s sword, and the Morning Star was not strong enough to defeat Michael, and Lasidious now has the power to defeat Michael … what makes y’all so sure that I’ll be able to dominate once I’ve finished creating a new Heaven. What if you’re wrong? What if Lasidious pummels me into the dirt?”

  “He won’t,” the archangel cut in. “Michael and I have seen to that.”

  Gabriel moved to stand beside Anahita. “When you were lying upon the dais in the temple, Michael surrendered part of his power and filled the staff he intended to bestow upon you with it.” The archangel reached down and took Anahita’s hands. “Do you remember how it felt when you were learning how to use the staff? Do you remember the surge of Bassorine’s power that filled your body?”

  Anahita giggled. “That was Bassorine’s power? Heck yes, I remember that. How could a girl forget that? Those were the best moments of my life.” The part human, part angel walked to the center of the shack. She spread her wings and spun. “I’d give anything to experience that again!”

  Gabriel was unsure how to act. “I’m not sure I understand. Perhaps you could explain why it was so amazing?”

  Anahita stopped, held up a finger and rocked it back and forth. “You only wish I would explain. That’s not going to happen, buster. A woman never talks about something like that.” She paused. “Well, not to a man anyway.”

  “I think I understand,” Gabriel responded. He pushed the door closed and returned to the table. “To conclude, you have the ability to become more powerful than the others on Ancients Sovereign because of Michael’s sacrifice.”

  Anahita stopped smiling. “Wait a cotton-pickin’ moment. Helga said she experienced similar moments when she trained with her staff. So Michael must have put part of his power into her staff as well.” She walked to the table, lifted her wings, flopped into a chair and then crossed her arms in a huff. “I feel like he cheated on me.”

  Gabriel laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Michael would not have poured part of his power into Helga’s staff. To do so would’ve weakened him further.”

  “So how do you explain the fact that she also had amazing moments?”

  Gabriel pondered the question. “Michael must have adjusted Helga’s memories to believe that she had similar experiences to ensure your training felt as normal as it possibly could.”

  Anahita arms unfolded. “As weird as that sounds, it makes sense.” She leaned forward and placed her hands on the table. “Now that I’ve had my questions answered, what about Helga? How are we going to fix her?”

  The World of Harvestom

  The Priestess’ Palace

  Morning Approaches

  Mosley awoke long before the sun rose above the horizon and made his way through the maze of corridors toward the back o
f the palace. It was there the wolf entered the priestess’ library and began his search for any reference that he could find to prove to the priestess that Dragonia existed.

  With the sun now cresting, Mosley had come to understand how the library was organized, and he was pawing through the pages of the sixth tome that he had removed from yet another shelf.

  There is nothing here, the wolf thought. He used his power to slam the book shut. How is it possible that there are no references to a planet that has existed for over 10,000 seasons?

  The wolf lowered to the floor and then looked up at the tallest shelf. He commanded two more books with heavy, brown bindings to float toward the table. As each settled, they opened. He reclaimed his former position by placing his front paws on the edge of the table and then stood on his hind legs.

  A fair amount of moments passed before these tomes were also slammed shut. “Nothing!” he barked. “This is frustrating. My paws felt the dirt on Dragonia when Bassorine took me there. How is it possible that a…?”

  The wolf stopped his rant. Could it be? he thought. If so, the gods have begun the transformation.

  Mosley dropped from the table and rushed up a flight of steps to a section of shelves that stood in the far back of the second level. His eyes had new purpose as they settled onto a large tome with a heavy, red binding.

  Like he had done with the others, Mosley used his power to remove the book from the shelf. Its binding opened as it touched the floor. The wolf began to paw through the writings as fast as he could. It was not long before he found a chapter entitled, “Hell.”

  “Then it has happened,” he mumbled. “The gods have removed Dragonia from its orbit and created a home for the damned.”

  Closing the book, Mosley rushed back down the stairs and reopened one of the tomes he had left on the table. He stopped at a section that discussed the number of pieces the Crystal Moon possessed. “Five pieces,” he uttered. “There should have been six after the Dragon World was created.”

  Mosley closed the book and then reascended the steps to the fifth level of the library. It was there he found a book dedicated to the intricacies of the Crystal Moon. On its pages, he learned the name of each world the crystal’s pieces controlled, and Dragonia was not one of them.

  He closed the book. “Stasis. It’s the only explanation for Fosalia’s belief that it never existed. She knows this world as Hell, not what it once was.”

  The wolf started to pace as he continued to think. “If the priestess’ memory is intact, and the gods are responsible for altering her mind, then I can trust in what she proclaims. She must be speaking the truth about this Barramore. Yet how could I have forgotten about my journey into the Neutral Territory on Southern Grayham?”

  As Mosley continued to ponder aloud, he left the library to meet the priestess for breakfast.

  CHAPTER 13

  For the Love of Your Woman

  Ancients Sovereign

  The Book’s Hall of Judgment

  It’s a New Peak, the Peak of Bailem

  THE GODS GATHERED IN GABRIEL’S HALL, and Alistar was waiting for Keylom’s hooves to stop clapping so he could call the meeting to order.

  Since the Book and the Mischievous One were nowhere to be found, those present determined that Gabriel and Lasidious’ input was not necessary to move forward to set Hell in motion.

  “If you don’t mind, Keylom!” Alistar chastised. “I can’t hear myself think above the clamoring of your hooves.”

  The centaur-god stopped fidgeting. “Forgive me. My mind is unsettled. We shouldn’t vote without Gabriel and Lasidious.”

  “The Book does not control how this Collective votes,” Alistar responded. “And Lasidious doesn’t care about the creation of Hell. He stopped caring seasons ago.” The God of the Harvest scanned the faces surrounding the table and stopped on Celestria’s. He smiled inside as he watched a tear fall from her eye and run down her cheek. “You know I speak the truth.”

  Celestria wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Lasidious has made his choice. Let’s continue.”

  Keylom cut in. “But—”

  “But nothing, you stupid centaur!” Mieonus sneered. The Goddess of Hate leaned forward in her chair and stomped the lifted heel of her right shoe against the floor. “Must you always be so timid?”

  The centaur-god did not respond.

  Mieonus leaned back. “I’ll take your silence as your approval that this Collective should continue. I despise your weakness.”

  Alistar shook his head for a moment as the satisfaction smothered the Goddess of Hate’s face. He then redirected his attention toward the centaur. “Tell me, Keylom, why are you struggling?”

  Mieonus rolled her eyes while Keylom stepped closer to the table and placed his hands on Hosseff’s shoulders. “Lasidious felt that this Collective’s decision was wrong. I’m beginning to feel the same. I feel sorry for the beings on Dragonia who haven’t finished living their first life. They’ve done nothing to deserve the Hell we’ve unleashed on them.”

  The confidence filling Keylom’s voice magnified as he continued. “Those who are living their first existence after the creation of the worlds do not deserve to suffer the torment. They shouldn’t be forced to bear the wrath of our vote. It isn’t their fault that they were born on a world we intended to transform.” The centaur clapped his left front hoof against the floor to emphasize his next point. “Hell will be an unjust punishment once stasis has been lifted and the damned begin to migrate.”

  Sharvesa spoke out. “Perhaps we could move the innocent to some other world?”

  “You say that only because of your daughter,” Mieonus rebuked.

  “Of course, I do!” Sharvesa rebutted. “But my concern extends beyond my daughter. There are many beings on my homeworld that I don’t want to see suffer … not just demonkind.”

  The Goddess of Hate’s eyes rolled again. “This Collective expects you to be the goddess you were chosen to become, not what you want to be.”

  Sharvesa fought back. “And I suppose you believe you’re the example I should follow? You speak as if you’re the voice of this Collective.”

  Mieonus jumped up from her chair. “I should—”

  Alistar stepped in. “Ladies! Ladies! Please! There’s no need to shout.”

  After a moment of silence, Mieonus reclaimed her seat.

  Alistar continued. “Moving the innocent will be unnecessary. Seasons will pass before the damned manage to migrate that far. Gabriel saw to that.” The God of the Harvest captured Sharvesa’s eyes. “The Book made sure the mainland wouldn’t see suffering for quite a while, and with the additional size this Collective has added to that world, the damned’s migration will take even longer than originally anticipated.”

  Alistar offered a reassuring smile. “The moments are available to us to ensure that your daughter is prepared.”

  “I second that,” Owain added as he removed his pointed hat and tossed it onto the table. “Your daughter can command the races of demons to build walls to keep the damned out of their lands. As queen, she has the resources available to her to prepare for anything.”

  “And you believe this is a life worth living, dwarf?” Sharvesa snapped. “Would you be so willing to condemn a daughter of your own in this manner?”

  Annoyed, Hosseff slapped the table. “This topic is irrelevant! I care nothing for your daughter or the pain she’ll experience.”

  The God of Death jerked his shoulders out of Keylom’s grasp. “Get your hands off me, centaur, and stop your sniveling. This Collective’s vote has stood for too many seasons to change it, and I don’t want to hear another word from a concerned mother.”

  Hosseff stood and walked around the table. He leaned down to speak into Sharvesa’s ear. “As much as it pains you to hear, your daughter is an acceptable sacrifice.”

  “I totally agree,” Mieonus added. “She’s just another worthless demon. Her pain will be fun to watch.”

  Sharvesa r
ose from her chair and lifted her hands. “Perhaps we should settle this outside?”

  Mieonus laughed. “You don’t have the power to strike me down.” The Goddess of Hate stood, stepped away from her seat and then extended her arms to either side. “But you could try. Strike me so that I may enjoy your suffering once you rejoin your daughter and live out the rest of your Peaks in the Hell you helped create. Nothing would give me greater satisfaction.”

  All present looked at the Goddess of Hate and shook their heads.

  Alistar sighed. “Again, you lack tact, Mieonus. When will you learn to keep your mouth shut?”

  “Finally,” Hosseff added, “a sentiment I can agree with. Do shut up, Mieonus.”

  The God of Death returned to his side of the table. His wispy voice continued to emanate from the nothingness beneath his hood as he lowered into his seat. “The Collective’s feelings on this matter are irrelevant. The vote was unanimous, and as our laws state, it cannot be changed.” He looked again at Sharvesa. “Perhaps I spoke too harshly. Your daughter deserves better than this outcome, but alas, the moments for regret are unavailable to us. I offer my sincerest condolences, but beyond that, I won’t give another thought to your daughter’s pain.”

  “Bah! You’re as weak as they are, shade,” Mieonus admonished.

  Though Hosseff’s smile was unable to be seen, the Collective experienced the chill of his laugh before he responded. “Are there other matters that should be discussed before we vote?”

  Calla, the Goddess of Truth, responded. “I have a topic, though it doesn’t pertain to our vote.”

  “If it’s irrelevant, then why should we listen to you babble?” the Goddess of Hate jeered.

  Alistar shot Mieonus a nasty look. “Do shut up! The only being babbling at this table is you. If you don’t want to hear what Calla has to say, please leave! This Collective will assume that your departure is also your vote to set Hell in motion.”

  Mieonus leaned forward in her chair. A moment later, a smile spread across her face. “I wouldn’t want you to miss me. I think I’ll stay.” She looked down the table at Calla. “What could you possibly say that I’d find interesting?”