This day, Mila and Victoria wore one of their ball gowns which just so happened to be opaque from the waist down; not sheer like the first dress Mila chose. Beneath it was a body suit covered by a corset bearing the seal of the Blue Goddess.
Mila embraced Juliya, who was with her sister Sonja; representing the Ladies of the Red Devil, a lesser order of the Blue Goddesses. Dante emerged from behind the tall Magia, receiving gasps from all who looked upon him.
“Mr. Dante?” Matilda the Crone asked. Dante nervously smiled and waved at the group of people who were staring almost rudely.
“Well I guess it is the end of the world then. Eat, drink, and lift weights! Because if you wait until tomorrow, you’ll never burn those calories,” Hercules said, looking serious as though he dropped some deep knowledge. The Orders turned their attention to the large man who was nodding with his arms folded.
“So I guess there is no wonder why the Iron Fists have come,” Matilda said, shaking her head. He leaned over to the old, stern looking woman and whispered: “I hear they make a mean roast”.
The happy group talked and laughed, reaching the door, but the Mighty Mujāhidūn stopped them from entering.
Mila who was holding onto Cesare’s arm was outraged.
“Madam, the Order of the Blue Goddess and the Ladies of the Red Devil are welcome here, as is every other Order. But you cannot enter Temple Eliyon so loosely dressed,” Captain Damir said unwavering.
“How then are we supposed to dine in peace when you exclude an Order because you don’t like the way they dress?” Lorne asked, as he was standing behind the Magia and BGs.
“It is our law that a woman be dressed modestly. If you do not have proper clothing, we can provide some for you. But you will not be in the presence of The Prophet as you are,” Damir continued.
Those who heard the dialogue were furious, causing some of the lesser orders to turn away.
“I will not be who you want me to be. Women are not for you to control! And if I cannot enter Temple Eliyon as I am, you and your Mujāhidūn are banned from mine,” she stormed.
Captain Damir laughed. “Madam. The Mighty Mujāhidūn do not lie with pigs for when we rise the stench of it isn’t easily washed off,” he said as Cesare pulled his angel blade, sticking it in the side of Damir’s neck. Blood began to drip as the blade pierced his skin.
“Do me a favor and insult my wife again. Just give me a reason,” Cesare said. The Orders stood silent as they watch the peace crumble.
“Civilizations have been destroyed, empires have fallen, and entire species of humans have become extinct, all because a man had chosen the wrong woman to bed,” Damir said grabbing the angel blade.
His hand began to burn, but he did not move. Mother Recia came running out of the door calling for the men to stand down. Her face was round, and body somewhat rotund. Upon her head was a gold hijab which was unusually long.
Cesare lifted his blade and held up his hands respecting Mother Recia’s wishes. She looked at Mila who had her arms folded and smiled. She placed her hands upon her arms and Mila instantly had a positive shift in her mood.
“Beautiful lady. I do apologize for my Mujāhidūn. Sometimes he speaks when silence is most wise. Today is a banquet of peace. And if allowing you through our doors will maintain that peace, please be welcome into Temple Eliyon,” she said, motioning for Mila and Victoria to enter.
The sky above began to rumble and a bright red lightning bolt struck the pavement near the Magia. Babalo Aye and his wife Belie Agawa emerged from the smoke with smiles and laughter; shifting the mood of the Orders who were anticipating a fight.
“See my dear, we are not late! The Order of Red Axes abides to the will of time!” Babalo said, to his much taller wife.
Matilda embraced them both with hugs as Babalo’s father also sat on the council with her. While Babalo was typically a chipper person and always wore a big smile, he was a short man; only standing about five four with a shiny, bald head.
His beautiful wife stood about three inches taller than him without heels, but loved her noble husband dearly. He walked with a rooster cane in hand, painted red like the shawl of his royal headdress and robes.
His wife, Belie Agawa, wore a red and gold head wrap and a matching wrap-gown which perfectly complimented her dark skin. He greeted Domo Diesé, the Chief Bakor of the House of the Bleeding Serpents with open arms.
Domo was accompanied Dibia Dula, the Bleeding Serpent’s greatest diviner, whose wrinkled skin was beginning to turn a shade of gray. Their robes were black with serpent coils around their arms and waist. Their eyes were yellow and upon their faces were the noble ichi markings of their kinsmen.
“The Sons of Ogun greet the Sons of Shango with peace and honor,” Domo said as they bowed to each other respectfully. Domo took Belie's hand and kissed it respectfully.
“It has been some time my cousin. I am glad we could break bread once again,” Babalo said, as they conversed amongst each other. Dibia Dula said very little, but listened to everything around him.
With much lighter spirits the BGs entered the temple, but the Magia were still stopped at the door.
“You must relinquish your weapons,” Damir said smiling. Cesare placed the angel blades in his hand and watched them burn. Rufus gave him his daggers and short sword and they escorted their wives to the banquet hall.
Babalo relinquished his red axe and Lorne and Matilda, their wands and broomsticks. All who entered did so unarmed; some nervously within the safe hands of the Order of the Star and Crescent.
14
The Feast from Hell Heaven
Temple Eliyon was highly decorated on the inside with gold trimmings along the walls and silks hanging from the ceilings. The Mighty Mujāhidūn stood strong against the walls; their faces frozen and bodies still. A hundred Black men in black suits and gold bow ties showing the strength of the Order of the Star and Crescent.
Chatter amongst the orders sounded as bees buzzing in a hive throughout the long hall and down into the dining room.
“Is Mr. Dante alright?” Victoria asked Rufus who was somewhat pissed about the confrontation.
“Actually, I believe he is. He hasn't been on the Upper Earth in a few hundred years love. All that surrounds him is new to his eyes,” he responded, gripping her hand tight.
She could feel his frustration as he attempted to quell his anger. The pair were stopped at the doorway by a tall man with short white hair, wearing a black suit bearing the seal of the Order of Roses upon the left pocket and back.
Wearing a pair of white gloves, he had a cane in his left hand; a large red ring on his ring finger.
“I take it that boy of mine is still breathing,” he said, in a strong Scottish accent.
“Indeed he is. Caden has become quite a powerful Knight. He wields Excalibur with dignity and honor,” Rufus answered. Casper lowered his eyes as if he were disappointed.
“This is my wife, Victoria. Victoria, this is Casper St. Claire, Caden’s father and Lord of Roses,” Rufus said, ending the awkward moment of silence between them.
Casper politely pecked Victoria on the cheek and winked as he walked away.
“And what was that about?” she asked laughing.
“Don’t worry about it. That’s just Casper’s way of saying: “tell Caden I said hello,” Rufus answered.
Victoria didn’t pry as they were seated at the large square table with an open center which gave the guests perfect view of one another. Across from them sat Hercules, Phrixos and Atlas of the Guild of the Iron Fists.
They sat shoulder to shoulder looking somewhat uncomfortable as their large muscular bodies were too big for the space designated for them. Their physiques made dressing up a task which resulted in open vests and blue jeans. Cesare looked over at them and burst into laughter.
Hercules, who was starting to grow a beard laughed and gave Cesare a meaty middle finger. Long ago, they were the great blacksmiths of the Orders, but as technology evolved
, so too did their smiting skills. Instead of crafting swords, bows and staffs, they now made guns, and other modern weaponry to fit the Orders’ demands.
They spent most of their time at their temple, the Iron Maiden, which was nothing more than a gym to all outside of their Order. When not clanging and banging iron, they took to food and the pleasures of the Blue Palace; some taking girlfriends and wives.
Hercules led the order and simply came for the advertisement of free food; not caring much for the politics of world domination.
Pantera Crux, the alpha of Ordo Pantera Nigrum sat beside Pantera Blaze; glaring intensely across the table at the noble Alexander Bogdana of the Sons of Lupercus who sat arm and arm with his wife and daughter. His long, brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, his beard was nicely groomed, and long black nails filed to perfection.
Unlike the wild wolves which had given all wolves a bad name, the noble Sons of Lupercus were those who abided by the law of the Council of Nine. As Alexander bowed to the Panthers, Pantera Blaze leaped across the table and grabbed him by the collar.
“Blaze! Not here,” Pantera Crux ordered. Blaze, who was a big black man with an even bigger afro, growled at Alexander and threw him down in his chair.
Baldaar and Fafnir of the Sons of Ragnarok shot a gaze at Cesare who were in shock at Blaze’s boldness. They came somewhat over dressed as their coats and boots were covered in white furs.
Nicky arrived in a puff of smoke. He served as Principal Timekeeper of the Gentlemen of the Haze and sat as the lone representative of his order. His face was wrapped in bandages, and he took off his top hat as it was polite at dinner. His skin appeared to be on fire as he seeped a white steam constantly.
Hercules leaned over to Mariska, Alexander's wife and said: “I'm glad they didn’t sit us next to the smoke stack,” pointing towards Nicky.
All who sat, stood up as The Prophet entered the room with open arms. Solon entered behind him to the dismay of Rufus.
“Solon. Slick shit,” Rufus said aloud. Lorne chuckled as he heard him.
“So that's Solon?” Cesare replied, not taking his eyes off of him. As Solon entered the room he met eyes with Mila and swallowed as she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
“Here goes the shit show,” Cesare whispered as Mila gut checked him.
“Those who are hidden in the darkness,” the Prophet said.
“Are guided by the light of the fallen,” the Orders answered collectively.
“I greet the thirty-three Orders of Man with peace,” The Prophet said softly.
“And peace be unto you,” the orders replied.
“Oh please sit brothers and sisters and welcome to Temple Eliyon. I’m glad all have come to break bread with the Order of the Star and Crescent on the eve of the Great Awakening! I have asked you all here because I have sent out the call to the sheeple by the multitudes. As they search for answers and higher knowledge, I will give it to them near the Obelisk of the West, for a mass awakening. It is time that we swell our ranks with those who will see the coming of a new world. A unified world,” he started, as all gave him a confounded look.
Matilda Barron was shaking as she found it hard to keep her composure. Her over-sized conical hat appeared to be shaking with her as she attempted to keep quiet. Her wrinkled face became sunk in with displeasure, her wise blue eyes bleeding mascara as she teared up with anger.
“But sir! A mass awakening will prove disastrous! The last time such a thing was attempted, the Earth was nearly destroyed and covered mountain high in water! I cannot speak for any other order, but the Cult of Winged Reapers cannot support this,” she stormed, as the other orders began chatting amongst themselves in agreement.
Cesare lowered his hand receiving a subtle low five from the Crone.
“Madam Crone, I assure you. History will not repeat itself. As we approach the Fourth Reckoning, if we are to start anew, we must do so with all who would see the renewal of the Earth. There are thirty-three Orders who sit around this table. Many of us were not born into magical dynasties such as yourself. You and your sisters have honored your family name which has led your Order for centuries. We must give all a fair chance to awaken otherwise, their souls will be lost to obliteration or subjected to the will of the Barons,” The Prophet said.
“But who has granted you the authority to party with angels?!” Cesare shouted standing up, shifting the mood of the conversation.
“Oh, here it goes, the crazy priest about to burn the Prophet,” Juan said to The Man, who was tickled with Cesare’s outburst.
The Prophet stood silent as all awaited an answer. The shock upon his face was one of conviction in the eyes of Cesare. Solon sat two seats from The Prophet and his gaze lowered at Cesare, but his eyes shifted to the lady at his side.
The Prophet wanted to know how he knew of the angels, but ignored further inquiry of his suspicion.
“Brother Magia, were it not for the angels, would you have the ability to fly amongst the eagles? A truce must be made with the angels so that we can maintain the paths of our forebears. Averting the breaking of the seven seals cannot be stopped as it is the will of the Demiurge, but we can save those who will seek to build a new world,” The Prophet said.
Cesare scoffed. “The breaking of the seven seals has been averted. Gabriel and his Order are locked in the seven prisons of which there is no exit. A truce isn’t necessary or needed,” Cesare replied.
“Oh but it is, dear Magia. For you misplace their role in the future of our race --”
“No. You give too much credit to those who would have us committed back to the dust! Awakening the sheeple is a stupid idea, but attempting to make a truce with the angels is downright asinine!” Cesare shouted, interrupting The Prophet.
Malak tightened his fist as a raised voice to The Prophet was sheer disrespect in his eyes, but remained steadfast. There was much chatter around the table as no one seemed to be in agreeance of the Prophet’s idea.
“Prophet, just last night at the Black & Blue Ball we engaged the sheeple who were attempting to kill us. Giving them the power which we wield is giving them a death sentence because I will personally ensure that they don’t live long enough to use it. For centuries they have burned men and women in our Orders for no reason at all. And if it had not been for the Magia, I would’ve slaughtered every sheeple my Oathbreaker could find. And now, you plan to lift the security of the Oubliettes and have us killing angels too?” Clyde stood up, looking as though he wanted his words to be taken seriously.
“Don’t worry, each of the seven Oubliettes are secure. The Council of Nine has not voted to have anything released from its confines,” Solon said, turning to The Prophet.
“I understand that this world is in need of unity, peace, and evolution. But how can one make a tree leaf into a piece of gold? Essentially, you cannot. Not unless you can change its composition at a cellular level, or create an illusion to the eye. See, it’s not like sand. Sand in its grainy form passes through the fingers. But if its fired at high temperatures, it evolves into glass. What The Prophet proposes is impossible. This world cannot evolve into a place of peace because at its very creation there was chaos and discord. Releasing the angels will just reignite the fires of an ancient rivalry; one I care not to partake in. Awakening the dead will cause mass destruction as they will believe that they are Gods. I have not given my entire existence to the procurement of our secrets just so they can use their power to win the lottery. Because that is what they will do Prophet. Their minds have not evolved past their struggles and needs. This world is run on gold, and they will use the enlightenment to obtain that which they believe is power. The Grigori knew this. And that is why we the Council of Nine have agreed to keep the teachings of the Grand Grimoire amongst those around this table,” Solon said ending his demonstration.
He and Johnny Dee looked as though they were going to exit the banquet hall as his words were met with silence.
“Now the day a Black
Knight and an Alchemist agree on something is a day I had feared. Because that is the day which there is no other alternative,” Rufus said.
The Prophet smiled, not showing one sign of frustration.
“Besides, you know what the living dead will awaken. Demons,” Babalo added, sounding paranoid.
“I agree with Babalo. The demons they will manifest may be much more than our Orders here can handle,” The Man said. The Prophet motioned for all to settle down.
“Demons are figments of their imagination,” he said.
“Pfft! Demons are real because they make them real. I lost my brother Helios to fucking demons!” Hercules shouted.
“The bag of muscle is right. Demons are the most powerful form of egregors and have the ability to become a true threat. Each human on this planet has within their head a demon; that thing that plagues them. Those who do not know how to control emotion and energy will manipulate them into being. The world will be crawling with them. Now, if you all remember correctly, it was my Knights, the Red Axes, the Warlocks, the Iron Fists and the Paleros which massacred the demon hordes during the reign of Chamuel. That is not a time I wish to relive,” Rufus said sternly.
“Whether you all agree with me or not, the will of the Demiurge will be done and each will play their part on the grand scale of things --”
“Play our part. Oh dear. I did not know we lived upon a chess board,” Nicky said as he leaned back in a chair.
“And if you release the angels and they renege on their pact, what then? There is at least two hundred angels per every human on this planet. While there are some orders which has within its ranks combat magic, there are those who do not. How will they defend themselves? They will be slaughtered dear Prophet,” Babalo said, waiting for an answer.
The doors of the meeting room flung open and Barons Cimitiére, Piquant and La Croix walked in. The thirty-three orders stood up in reverence to their presence. La Croix clapped as he walked around the Prophet tauntingly.
Knights of Enmity: The Barons Have Fallen (Descending Fires Book 1) Page 17
