by Donovan Neal
The Issi came into his master’s bedchamber and bowed at the open door.
“My Lord?” He said.
“Tell the elders of my return to Athor and command them to bid me audience within the hour. Let them know I have returned with Abaddon and a plan for our control of Heaven.”
“Aye my Lord,” Ashtaroth said and quickly left.
********************
Charon trudged into Hell's belly and looked to find his captive escaped. Enraged, he raised his skeletal head and roared his outrage. In fury, he lifted his hammer-like fists into the air and slammed them down into the eyed floor. The eyes popped like melons thrown against concrete and Hell screamed in agony.
Charon’s eyeless skull slowly scoured the cavern to see any sign of his foe, and with maggot, infested flesh: the half man, half mount of a creature managed to utter a sound to this cousin of the Kiln. The walls of Hell's stomach bubbled in acidic retort, and magma fell back upon itself to reveal the stone and charred floor of Hell’s belly, a wound inflicted by the power of the living God to form a Ladder to another realm.
Charon lowered his equestrian nose to the floor and with nostrils that did not exist snorted to sniff out his prey, now rogue. Then a circular scar in Hell's flesh appeared: a wound that could only come from a Ladder.
Instinct drove Charon, chains shot from his body, and he latched himself in the stone floor and wall as if feeling the scar. Dredging for clues to his quarry’s whereabouts, he searched with manacled antennae and noticed something foreign on the far wall. Picking up the soft object, he eyed a tattered and charred piece of cloth of a presence alien to his prison.
A piece of robe –– a trespasser of royal blood––the Chief Prince.
Once more with head arched back, Charon raged into the air.
He found the scent of Abaddon. His angelic flesh was familiar to the warden, and there were still pieces’ of Abaddon’s flesh lodged in the barbs of Charon’s manacled whips. Now with this new piece of evidence, the pursuit for his captive could commence.
Charon placed the tattered piece of purple cloth in his breast and retracted his torso chains into his chest. He raised his hammer like arms into the air and struck them together. The sound reverberated within Hell's belly. He struck once more and a spark ignited for a moment, and then quickly dissipated.
Again, he pummeled his stone arms together, and again a flash ignited and then snuffed out. With a cry of rage and invocations of unintelligible retribution, Charon slammed his own arms against one another as a flint would smite a rock, and a spark ensued.
The spark morphed, and lightning suddenly filled Hell’s belly. The white light of a Ladder encircled Charon and washed him in iridescent heat. Hell convulsed and groaned her innards of brimstone, magma, and flame once more invaded by the creative power of the living God.
Crackles of lightning streaked across the chasm and arched back unto Charon. His iron and manacled body kissed and welcomed each charged embrace. Wider the electric field grew and arrayed the cavern in tentacled streams of plasma.
He raised his mighty arms of hammers and slammed them into Hell's floor, and bolts of lightning struck the cavern floor. Hell wailed, her cry soared to the ears of the denizens of Heaven itself, thunder rocketed across the sky, and all looked to see the mountain rumble and quake.
Charon pummeled the floor of the mountain once more. It cracked, and lightning walloped the spot and left its mark deeper in Hell’s flesh.
Again, he struck the ground. The living mountain screamed and wailed its disapproval and cried out in pain.
Fractures appeared, and Hell heaved as magma splashed around the mighty warden of torment. Again, he crashed his arms into Hell’s floor, and the might of his stroke broke through the charred and rocky ground and gave way.
The mighty angel fell as the floor beneath him buckled, and the Ladder collapsed and converted into a chute of fire and brimstone. A shaft, which funneled its way through space and time and pierced the barriers that divided the Third Heaven from all other realms and Charon fell.
Earth and Elohim smote one another as the impact of Charon’s arrival bore the crust of the planet. He was welcomed with dirt, rock, and dust flung high into the air and the shattering sound of a thousand trees.
Hell’s fire soon followed him, and where the fire of the physical universe sat quietly in consumption of air and carbon: Hell’s fire was not so. The very ground liquefied, the air disappeared, and sulfur unpacked its bags and lined the brimstone filled crater with her stench and yellowish touch.
A pillar of fire stretched as a tower might pierce the atmosphere and found its home in Hell’s paunch; its heat wilted and blackened the ground for miles. Earth retreated as life and color quickly raced to escape the perimeter of the flaming entrails that hung from Hell’s belly.
Smoke and heat emanated from the crater, and newly created birds and beast were intelligent enough to remove themselves from the vicinity.
Charon lumbered forth from the freshly minted hollow; his manacles dangled as they touched the soft earthen soil. He lowered his skeletal nose to the ground, captured the scent that his barbed chains had left in Abaddon’s flesh, and rose to look across the horizon.
A city stood many miles away. Less than a day’s journey for the elephant paced angel. Nevertheless, time held no meaning to an immortal: and he would see Abaddon ferried home.
Charon had come to Earth for his prisoner and Hellfire had come with him.
********************
“Bear witness to the impotence of El,” said Lucifer. “A creator of a prison that I can enter and leave with its captives at will. Behold! I give you Abaddon and know that nothing is impossible to them that believe!”
Abaddon walked before the elders of Athor. The abrasion’s and lesion’s on his skin gave testimony to the harshness of Hell’s bondage. Although scarred, he was unbowed and spoke. “The Chief Prince has apprised me of his plan. I was catalyst for his actions: his need to question the goodness of El. Question no more! See with thine own eyes the pity of our God!
“Grigoric history tells of Argoth and his supposedly prophetic declaration of the person of the Lord. According to him, when the Lord created him, and he looked upon his maker for the first time, he was so stunned, so overwhelmed that he was as a man in a trance and walked to the edge of the mountain of the Lord, looked out over the expanse of the Kingdom of Heaven and proclaimed…”
‘The LORD, The LORD God, merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abundant in goodness and truth, Keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, and upon the children's children, unto the third and to the fourth generation.’
"What need have we of prophecies? What other lies have been told us? Are my lashes evidence of His mercy and graciousness? Are my shred wings testimony to His goodness and truth?”
"I was once Apollyon. I am now Abaddon, the Destroyer. I side with Lucifer and pledge myself to he who relieved me of the torment of Hell’s belly. I will not serve a master that will not answer prayer, nor submit to a Lord who will not be found when sought. I stand here before you due to one who did not despise my cause. I was sought of one who braved the monster Charon and has returned!”
Abaddon turned to Lucifer and pointed at him.
“He will be my God and King!”
Abaddon turned again to face the assembly.
“Who among you will stand with us, or will you continue to cower under the shadow of the Almighty? Let go of this fear and break free of El’s shackle and serve the Chief Prince!”
The great assembly hall was quiet. The gravity of the words spoken, and the actions taken would ring through Heaven and they all knew it. No one moved and no one spoke.
Suddenly, the assembly doors opened, and without invitation: Ashtaroth walked through the center of those gathered within the hall and marched to approach his Lord.
/> Lucifer eyed his servant and was silent.
“How dare he!” said one attendee.
Ashtaroth did not speak but continued and upon reaching his master's feet, knelt in common formality as was his custom, then rose.
“Remove this vassal,” said one.
“He has no place here,” said another.
The group became more unruly over the intrusion.
Lucifer raised his hand to silence them, and Ashtaroth looked into Lucifer’s eyes and spoke.
“Cans’t thou truly do as thou hast said?” Ashtaroth asked.
“I can,” Lucifer replied.
Ashtaroth then bowed his face to the floor. He laid prostrate for a moment, then rose to his knees and spoke, “My Lord and my God!”
He turned to face them all that they might see and ripped his robes from his breast to reveal the sigil stone that bared his name. He reached into his chest to remove it, held it high for all to gaze, and carved in it a new name.
Slowly he dug his fingernail into the stone, scratched from its face the name given to him by El in the Kiln, and wrote a name of his own choosing. Each etch of a new letter caused him to change physically before their eyes.
Slowly, the slim and nimble Issi grew large. His flesh turned dark and spiky, and bony protrusions erupted from his flesh. Fire flared up around him as the sigil stone of fire melted his features and reformed him after a new image and a new likeness. His frail butterfly wings changed and grew transparent as like a dragonfly, and he stopped writing and held his stone up for all to see. His voice clearly changed as he spoke in a deeper bass.
“I am Astarte, Governor of the House of Lucifer, my Lord and my God.”
And as the muscular insectoid creature stood before and held up his sigil stone: Tiamat, Mammon, Zeus, Cadfiel, Asmodeus, Dagon, Thammuz, Murmur, Mephisto, and countless others removed their sigil stones, held them high, bowed before Lucifer, and began to etch and alter their stones.
Lucifer beheld as each one transformed before him, and when the transformation of all was complete, and the elders had bowed before him. Lucifer looked upon the first of those that he would rule and smiled.
“I see a glorious day when the Creator will hang from a tree. Let us usher in that day now. Here — in this hall.” He said.
Abaddon looked upon his newly appointed Lord and spoke.
“What is thy command, my King?”
Lucifer looked upon them all and replied, “Secure Athor. Gather those loyal to our cause and assemble in the great court.”
“And what of those that will not serve?” Abaddon asked.
Lucifer was somewhat slow to reply.
“Then dissolution awaits them.”
Abaddon smirked, and his eyes gleamed with anticipation.
“Thy will be done Lord King.”
********************
“Report,” Michael said.
Gabriel had come from Mt. Hell and panted frantically.
“Charon has left the maw. Hell’s mouth stands unguarded!”
“Are you sure?” asked Jerahmeel.
“Aye, I saw Charon move deep within the mount…his destination –– I cannot say.” Gabriel said.
Michael turned to look at Raphael. “Can you track him?”
“He has no Grigori; hence, he has no log,” replied Raphael.
Michael thought for a moment and paced the entry steps to the temple.
“What is it Michael?’ said Talus.
Michael stopped to reply.
“We must locate Lucifer. Jerahmeel go to his palace and seek query as to his whereabouts. Raphael and I will track the Grigori of Athor and its vicinity. The rest of you return to your assignments. Creation still needs governance, and nothing must be undone while El is on Sabbath.”
Each angel took to the sky as Michael and Raphael reentered the temple palace.
“Have you shared with the others what you shared with me?” queried Michael.
“No," Raphael replied. “Only the Lord, you, and I know the extent of what Lucifer and Lilith have discussed.”
“Then I think we should delve deeper,” said Michael.
“Agreed.” replied Raphael.
The two brothers made their way into the room of the Zoa and Michael moved with greater swiftness in his steps than before. Upon entry to the Hall of Annals, Raphael pulled Lucifer’s tome, placed it on a podium, and the room turned white. The tome levitated in midair and then Raphael spoke to the room.
“Rescind to Third Heaven: Current location of Lucifer Draco.”
The room flashed multiple colors and then went white.
Raphael looked perplexed and repeated his command. “Rescind to Third Heaven: Current location of Lucifer Draco.”
Once more, the great room flashed in response. Colors, of the rainbow arched across the walls, floor, and ceiling, stopped, and then white stained the entire Hall.
“Uh –– Raphael?” Michael said.
“Humph,” said Raphael. “Regress to last encounter with El.”
The room flashed to obey. Reds, blues, and greens washed upon the wall until an image displayed. Lucifer was shown as bowed before El and pleading for Apollyon’s release. El’s admonition to grieve silently replayed for the duo and then the room went white.
“Curious,” said Raphael.
“What is it?” Michael asked.
Raphael lifted his finger to urge Michael to wait.
“Regress to last known presence in Third Heaven,” said Raphael.
Again, the room flashed the colors of the spectrum and Michael’s eyes darted to see what the chamber would show next.
The same image flashed of Lucifer kneeling before the Lord, pleading Abaddon’s case.
“That’s not right,” said Michael.
“Aye,” Raphael replied. “Lucifer was at the communion table with us before El dismissed him to do whatever he was assigned to do.”
“Then where is the rest of his record?” Michael said.
Raphael rubbed his chin in thought. “Based on what we have seen here, there is no record from this point onward.”
“That’s impossible,” said Michael.
“No,” Raphael said. “Not impossible, just highly improbable.”
“But who could change –– wait –– no!”
“Lilith has altered Lucifer’s tome,” said Raphael.
Raphael looked curiously at the image on the wall and spoke.
“Reveal: Grigoric tome: Ashtaroth,” Raphael commanded.
Immediately a new book appeared on the podium.
“I have a concern that more might be amiss than I was lead to believe,” said Raphael.
“Oh?” Michael said.
“Indeed. Ashtaroth is always near his master or has knowledge of his whereabouts. If I am correct we have a larger problem than just Lucifer and Lilith,” said Raphael.
“Rescind to Third Heaven: the current location of Ashtaroth,” spoke Raphael.
The room exploded in color and then flashed to white.
“As I feared,” said Raphael.
“What?” Michael said.
“Regress to last known presence in Third Heaven,” said Raphael
Again, the room burst forth in colors, and images raced across the room and stopped at Ashtaroth’s encounter with Lucifer at the temple waypoint: after the Chief Prince had returned from the completion of Eden.
“We have a serious problem, Michael.”
“What do you see?”
“My concern is what I do not see. Ashtaroth’s record has changed. The record shows that he greeted Lucifer upon his return, but if this is his last known presence, then when does it show him leaving the Third Heaven?”
Michael stared at the image. “You’re right. If he left Heaven, this surely was not the time it occurred.”
“Indeed,” said Raphael.
Michael stared at Raphael, “What else is wrong?”
“Michael these records are not just altered. A Grigori has rewritten
history. Our problem extends greater than simply Lucifer at this point. These two records indicate that a plan is underway to rewrite history and or to conceal current information. This does not bode well.”
“Lilith?” Michael asked.
“He and others I fear,” said Raphael. “I suspect Lucifer and Ashtaroth will not be the only ones whose tomes have changed. Michael, someone has knowingly ceased documenting history. This incident is not just a coincidence with Lucifer but extends to his servant as well. I fear that this is an attempt to conceal information, from me.”
“But why,” said Michael. “To what end?”
“I do not know exactly,” said Raphael, “but I intend to find out.”
“How?”
“I will go to Athor and most likely find Lilith there. There can be no other way to investigate this other than by addressing the source.”
Michael looked at Raphael curiously. “Go to Earth––you? You have never left the capital, my friend. Besides, there are few who have Elomic commands to travel, and I know that you do not possess one.”
Raphael laughed. “I have seen the far reaches of creation and El has not limited travel to an Elomic command.”
Raphael clapped his hand and the room flashed white.
“Reveal: Grigoric tome of Athor.”
Immediately the room changed colors, and the three-dimensional landscape of Athor became visible. Raphael’s tome and inkhorn appeared, and he took his stylus and wrote the words, ‘Enter’. Raphael then walked into the wall and stepped onto a field that was just outside the city. Michael was stunned, for he never had seen this form of travel.
“Michael I shall return soon, but I suggest that you proceed to the Maw.”
“Why?” Michael asked.
Raphael continued to walk while half of his body seemed to be in two places at once as he spoke.
“Hell’s tome glows with activity.”
He pointed to a book on his shelf; it flared as if the contents would explode. Michael turned to his rear watching the tome grow larger.
Raphael engulfed fully in the wall appeared as if he were a part of a painting and spoke from within the image.
