by JK Ensley
“And she loved Apollyon so much…” Jezreel paused.
“She would have slain herself, if her sacrifice would have spared him his Fate,” Alzeen finished.
“Yes. She loves too hard and holds back nothing,” she mused. “If you’re lucky enough to be counted in her heart—”
“She would burn down heaven for you,” Alzeen whispered.
“Yes, she would. Just imagine what all she would do, what all she would sacrifice, who all she would kill… for the child growing within her.”
He toyed with the dainty handle of his little teacup. “She no longer claims her powers. The pregnancy has removed her mask and her wings with it. She’s just Jenevier now.” His eyes burned with his coming tears.
Jezreel smiled knowingly. “Fear not, my friend, and take heart. She was just Jenevier when she first confronted Vareilious at the gate. She was just Jenevier when she swore to slay Varick, as you just mentioned. And she was just Jenevier when she fought and held her own with Vindicus, the dark Prince ruler of hell.” She looked out the window, seeing only the image in her mind of Jenevier turning into Vashti at this very table where they now sat. “Fire lives within her, whether Vashti does or not.”
“‘Tis true, all of it. Yet without Vashti, she cannot wing her way home.”
“Yes. But as just Jenevier, she has proven she can stay alive until your wings find her.”
Even though he knew Jezreel was probably right, Varick combed the entire realm of Ashgard before he left the fourth layer. He vowed to do the same upon each until he found her once more… even if it took him an eternity to do so.
Chapter 27
Mikage
(mah-KAH-jee)
Valencia burst through the clouds of layer nine and headed back to the Shinobi village where she’d last spoken with Musashi. She would not be satisfied until she looked upon Jenevier’s ashes with her own eyes.
The moon was eerily full. The still night—deathly quiet. She remained invisible to curious eyes as she vainly searched the tiny village and surrounding forest.
“Are you a soul-eater? Have you come to seek payment for my many sins?”
Valencia looked down from the tree she was perched in to see an aging ninja, cross-legged upon a large stone. She released the limb, landing solidly in front of him.
“I am, and I have.” Her voice was teasingly wicked. “Do you wish to make confession before I cleave head from shoulders?”
“I do so wish.”
“Then I will hear you now.”
“My name is Mikage Abe. I am descended from the mingled blood of Koga and Iga. I am a Shinobi wizard by birth, cursed with death.”
“Go on,” she coaxed.
The old man didn’t open his eyes. Scenes of his past were playing out in his mind as he spoke.
“I loved my brother’s wife and I lay with her, leaving my seed within her womb. Alas, she was a better person than I. She refused to leave my brother, refused to bring shame upon him. She birthed my son as my brother’s heir and did not live to even nurse the babe.”
“My, my,” Valencia quipped. “Continue, old man.”
“I left my people. I lived alone, mourning my destroyed heart. A Shinobi maid was hunting near my home some years later. I loved her upon sight. After many months of proclaiming such to her in secret, she surrendered her maidenhead to me. My seed took hold within her on that same day. Yet I knew it not.”
“What a virile wizard you must be. Is that your ninjitzu? Impregnating young women?”
Mikage ignored her words, continuing his haunting confession. “She returned not to me after that day. I hated her for hiding from me. When I heard she was with child, I hated her all the more.”
“You hated a woman you loved because she carried your babe in her belly?”
“I knew not the child was mine. My jealous heart told me she had given herself to another. I had only known her that once… I refused to believe.”
“So, what did you do? Kill your pregnant lover?”
“I did not raise a hand to her nor did I look upon her face ever again. She, too, died in childbirth and I knew not the babe until a few months past. I have a son and a daughter, it seems.”
“Is that the whole of your sins, old man? That your spawn kill their own mothers when they draw breath?”
“It was. But more deaths have now been added.” He finally opened his eyes, meeting his soul-eater’s icy glare for the first time.
“So, you have sired a third murderer, have you?”
“Nay, not by my seed. Still, the death is on my head. I stole a mother from her home and gave her to the Emperor. The next morning her womb burst out of season. I charmed the doorknobs to her bedchambers so no one could get to her. So no one could attend her screams. She suffered much and bled to death.”
Valencia tilted her head and furrowed her brow. “Why would you do such a thing?”
Mikage’s eyes were again closed. He didn’t have to see her glowing face to know she now wore a disgusted look. He heard it plainly in her words.
“I feared her.” He lowered his head. “She was not of this world. Her magic was unlike any I have ever known. She placed a spell upon me, bound my hands and my words from causing her harm.” He looked up at her then. “I hated her for that, swore vengeance in my heart. So… when I heard her labor cries, I enchanted the doors. I may not have been able to harm her personally, but I kept help from attending her until she was far past helping.”
“And how do you know she died?”
“I stayed until word of it reached me. The soldiers who removed and burned her bedding told me she was bathed for burial with her son. My heart was glad with the news, glad in the knowledge I would never again have to look upon that colorful little Angel. Never again would I be cursed to look into those inhuman pink eyes.”
Valencia sat down upon hearing those words, releasing a heavy sigh. Finally, it is done.
Mikage continued, “I know the Emperor will come for my head. But I no longer fear my death. Take me now. I am ready.”
She stared at the old man with the resolute look painted over his aging features. A devious thought entered her twisted little mind.
“Very well. I will deliver you unto the one who will judge your soul. But you must speak to him every word of your confession. If you do not answer him everything…” she warned. “…it will not go well for you in the Otherworld.”
He nodded slightly. “I will do as you say. Yet I care not how things go for me in the Otherworld.”
She laughed knowingly. “We shall see. It is easy to speak of that which you do not know.”
*****
Valencia took her sweet time in delivering Mikage to the Otherworld holding place. She flew him to the palace on Jinn and forced him to stay by her side for days until Musashi finally appeared at the gates. When he had finished speaking with the guards, she stepped out from her hiding place, quickly revealing herself to him before returning to the broken old Shinobi’s side.
“Why do you insist on returning here?” Musashi demanded as he approached her.
“The Guardians have been searching in earnest many months for their Princess. I volunteered to comb layer nine. Will I find her here?” she asked innocently.
“What do you think?” Musashi countered.
She pretended to pout. “I know we’re not favored friends, dearest Emperor, but I wished to see you. We haven’t spoken in so long.” She smiled and batted her lashes. “Oh, by the way, I met a man in the forest with a terribly interesting story. After hearing his sordid little tale, I felt an extreme need to stop by for a visit.”
Valencia stepped aside to reveal Mikage sitting upon the ground. His eyes were gone and his body smelled of the death she had already gifted him.
“Mikage, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Musashi started toward the wizard but withdrew when the putrid stench of decay invaded his nostrils. “What have you done, Witch?”
“I only gave him what he
asked for. I heard his confession then snuffed out his light.” She casually shrugged her shoulders. “We’re on our way to his judgment now. I just wanted to make this one little stop before we left forever.”
“Apologies, Sire,” Mikage rasped. “I held fast the knob, denying your entrance. In so doing, her death is upon my head, the death of the babe as well.”
The Emperor could only stare in silence at the talking dead man.
“Perhaps I should have sought out the old man instead of you, Ronin. His resolve is granite where yours falters.” She leaned in closer to the stunned Emperor. “Tell me this one thing. I’m curious. How did the Angel bind this man from harming her? What trick did she use to accomplish such a thing?”
“I know not. I wasn’t there.” Musashi spoke through a haze. He was trying to process Mikage’s confession and Valencia’s obvious acceptance of it without plainly displaying the truth upon his face.
“She is dead, is she not? You kept her charms and talismans, correct?” She continued without giving him time to answer. “I wish to see them. I am curious as to which gave her such a delicious power as this.”
“All that she had is now mine.” He turned a cold glare toward the heartless woman he now hated above all others. “Payment for black purpose and duly earned. You will not see them.”
“Black deeds you willingly set to purpose.” She chuckled. “You yet live, little Ronin. One day soon, your judgment will come. And when it does, you’ll have to answer for your crimes.”
“As will you,” he said dryly
“We shall see.” She tugged on the wizard’s arm. “Let us be off, old man. You have a date with a mighty Angel, Prince of the Underworld. And I can assure you. He will be most interested in your sordid confession.” She winked at Musashi, flashing him a triumphant smile. “Most interested indeed.”
The Emperor watched motionlessly as the loathsome pair disappeared into the clouds.
When they were gone and his breath returned, he ran as fast as he possibly could to the well-guarded top floor of his palace home.
Chapter 28
Varick
(VAH-rick)
Varick made his way through the first seven layers of the universe. It had taken him months.
He had searched mostly as Alzeen, and the form had become nearly as comfortable to him as his angelic one.
“Has my son forsaken his people?”
He spun around when he heard Vareen’s melodic voice. “How is it I did not sense you, Mother?”
“Perhaps you have worn your mask too long, my son. You know what kind of effect that can have on a Guardian. Perhaps you’ve become more human than Vanir. If you continue at this pace, you will soon lose your wits,” she warned.
“And has that ever truly happened? Or is it not just something parents say to scare their children into behaving?” He laughed at the memories flooding back from his childhood.
“Ah, already you question me, as if it were possible for me to bear false tongue.”
Varick removed his mask. “Apologies, Mother. Perhaps you’re right. I have not been feeling quite myself as of late,” he admitted.
“The same thing happened to my dear sister, Valiza, long before you were born. She fell in love with a man and wished to live as his human wife for a time. It didn’t take long. Her trips back to Vanahirdem became fewer and farther between. Within a few short years, she no longer remembered being Vanir.” Tears filled the lovely seer’s eyes. “Valiza lived and died as a human woman with no thoughts of her immortal family playing about in her mind.”
“How is that even possible? How can immortality be ignored?”
“Being immortal is a gift, a blessing, one that must be used to fulfill its purpose. You have heard it said… A blessing refused is no blessing at all.” She smiled lovingly at her son. “The mind is a powerful thing, dear one. Men have believed themselves greater than they are. In so doing, they became even greater than they imagined. It works the same, both ways.”
“What are you saying, Mother? Immortality refused is no longer immortality? If the blessed gift is denied, then… it’s negated?”
She smiled at her regal son. “Something like that.”
He gently touched her shoulder. “Why have you never told me of your dear sister before?”
“It was eons ago, my son. I do not wish to dwell upon my sister. It pains my heart. Although, I was reminded of her tragic story the day you returned to Vanahirdem and told me of your union with Jenevier, of your first exchanging of manacles with your lovely Anicee.”
“But… how did that glorious day pull ghosts from a painful past?”
“It was the deep concern you had for your fair maid at the time. Do you remember?”
Varick could remember everything about that day. It had been the most splendid, and most horrific, of his extremely long existence.
“Yes. I was worried she was becoming too much like Vareilious,” he whispered. “Too much like a hardened warrior.”
“Ah, so you do recall. Jenevier had been summonsed without stop for over eight months when you met up with her in Haven. Most of that time she had spent as Vashti. She wasn’t far from forgetting her humanity completely. She wasn’t far from becoming the Death Angel, from becoming her mask. The same is very near true for you, my son.”
His regal shoulders slumped with frustration and exhaustion. “If I could but find her, that might not prove so bad a thing.” He sighed. “She loves Alzeen with a ferocity that’s very nearly scary. If we ended up as that couple, Jenevier in Alzeen’s arms forever, immortality would be an easy thing to refuse. She lost her angelic powers while she carried the child within her. It has been almost a year since last I saw her, perhaps they didn’t return.”
“What brings your mind to such a conclusion, dear one?”
“She has obviously suffered through the birth of our son… alone. She is no longer burdened with child, Mother. If her angelic powers had returned, she could don her wings. She would have made her way back home by now, back home to me.”
“Perhaps. But… we know not where she is nor do we know what she’s had to go through, my son. Don’t be so sure she is no longer an Angel.” She tenderly touched his noble cheek. “A mother will suffer through anything to protect her child, anything. And we know not her trials, dear one. Do not sacrifice your wings only to look up and see your love coming from the clouds once more.”
“Is that why you sought me out this day, Mother? To tell me to remember my wings?”
“In part. You’re needed back in Vanahirdem. I have received many horrible visions. We’ve not yet lived to see the evil that will soon be released into this realm. Things are turning rotten throughout the universe. Something wicked this way comes, Varick. We must make ready.”
*****
When Varick and Vareen entered the gate to their holy city, they were met with shouts of battle formation from Valadrog. The legions of Vanir were gathering, then being sent out to many different layers at once. Demons would soon be popping up like weeds, and they far outnumbered the heavenly Guardians.
“Aye, if we’ve ever needed our lethal wee Death Angel, now’s the time,” Vittorio said.
“What’s happened?” Varick asked. “What has brought on such a cacophony of evil? Were there no warning signs?”
“No, there were not. I had only just received the visions,” Vareen answered. “It is almost upon us. Not a moment can be spared.”
“Aye, there ye go again. Trying tae rationalize the behavior of the dark ones, Brother. We know nae why, but it looks like hell is soon tae spill oot intae the daylight,” Vittorio said.
“Something must have caused this. Something catastrophic has happened, something yet secret to us. We may be caught in a trap if we fly into this completely blind, ignorant. Has there been no other word? No summons?” Varick demanded.
“No, my son. Nothing that will shed light on the answers you seek,” Vareen said. “It is as I have said. Horrid visions only.
There has been no how or why revealed unto me.”
“Well something has bloody well pissed off hell’s Prince. No way this much evil is just a coincidence.” Vareilious snorted. “Reports are already coming back in. It’s like he has his twisted mind set upon starting the damn apocalypse all by himself.”
“Aye, so much for hoping love could change a man, or an Angel,” Vittorio mumbled.
“Love? By all that’s holy. That must be it!” Varick grabbed Vareen’s shoulders. “Mother, try to scry Apollyon. See if he’s left hell. And search again for any trace of Jenevier.” He narrowed his eyes. “Only two things could cause such wrath from that old blue devil.”
“Aye, spill it, Brother. What claims yer mind?”
“Think about it, Brothers.” Varick narrowed his gaze as his voice grew deeper, harder. “Apollyon’s deliberate defiance of God’s command must have something to do with Jenevier.”
Vareilious gasped. “He has found her then. She must be in danger.”
“Or dead,” Valadrog added.
Four horrified gazes fell upon the chief Vanir.
“Hard words for hard times, my son.”
“Never speak them again, Father. If she were dead, I’d know it. I could feel it. Her soul sings to mine. Her song may be muted, yet it plays on. She is not dead. This I know.”
“Aye, yer father gives good counsel, Brother. For that old Angel tae start a bloody war such as this, a grave thing has happened tae our lass… or the babe.”
Varick grabbed Vittorio, his growls and snarls weren’t just a threat. Vittorio responded with such ferocity, all present were in shock. It was all Valadrog and Vareilious could do to separate the enraged warriors.
“This is no time to war with ourselves,” Valadrog yelled.
“Aye, do ye think yer the only one who loves her, Varick? Do ye think yer Princely wings are the only ones she favors? I wulnae longer take a backseat while ye punish her for being human. She’s been under yer protection the whole of her life. What has it gotten her? Ye were so concerned with sheltering an’ hiding her, ye nae took the time tae get tae know her, Brother. I did. I discovered an incredible woman hidden under all those curls an’ I took the time tae get tae know that woman.” He wiped the blood from his lip. “Hell, even Apollyon knows her better than ye do. What more can ye offer her than I can? Dunnae think for one moment yers is the only pain worth fighting for, worth dying for.”
