Angel of Darkness Books 6-10

by Mackenzie Morris

  Nimiel nimbly jumped backwards then did a back flip as his wings caught in the wind. For the first time Jaylen had seen, the seraph's glowing wings appeared in a grey haze like the thick fog of a morning river after a storm. A glittering black halo danced above the crown of black roses. His normally pale grey eyes surged with an untamed blue light that rivaled the brightest of sapphires. Nimiel's seraph form.

  The sight of the power in front of him made Jaylen take a step back, but he focused himself and tightened his hand around his sword. This quickly became a fight for his life.

  "What are you waiting for?" Finalis asked. "Get in there and stop him from flipping around so much. It's just a show. He's trying to distract you. We don't need those fancy moves to be effective."

  "Go away, Finalis. This isn't your fight."

  "Are you fighting?" Finalis asked.

  "Yes."

  "Then it is my fight. Watch out!"

  Jaylen held up his longsword to block the aerial attack. His sword slid along the dual blades until the seraph yelped and fell backwards. Blood trickled from a deep cut on his right hand, but he only glared at Jaylen more.

  "Yay, you got him. Now finish him off."

  "Shut up and let me do this, then. You're distracting me. I don't even know how to kill a seraph."

  "See those pretty flames on your sword?" Finalis asked. "Yeah, use those. Angelic beings don't exactly agree with Hell's flames, you know? I mean, look at the poor kid's hand."

  Jaylen parried another attack, swiping low to catch Nimiel's calf. The flames surged brightly before going out, leaving a black sear mark. Nimiel's hand was the same way. The seraph was barely able to keep his grasp on the blade as he swung sporadically, his eyes giving away his increasing panic.

  "What did you do to me?" Nimiel cried out, hobbling on his wounded leg. His seraph form vanished, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. "What is this? Hell's flames?"

  "Yes." Jaylen flew up in the air then dropped out of the sky so quickly that he heard the wind rush past his ears as a high-pitched whistle. His longsword make contact with flesh, giving out a cracking thudding sound followed by a flash of orange light and a scream. He landed on one knee then flicked the blood off of his flame-covered sword. When he looked up, he swung in anticipation of another attack by Nimiel, but none came.

  The fighting grew louder down in the canyon as a yellow plume of smoke quickly shot up into the air. Jaylen stood up and watched as another joined it. Up here, it was quiet. He readied his sword and spread out his wings to fly, but it quickly became apparent that his opponent was in no shape to continue the battle.

  Nimiel stopped. His eyes grew wide with tears as he dropped to his knees and the twin blades fell from his hands. Dark blood splattered onto the slushy snow below the young seraph who gasped for air before falling face-down. The blackened burns had seared through his armor and left a brutal gash across his back. Flashes of bone from his ribs and spine were visible through the jagged cut where the skin and muscle had been burned away to nothing. A bed of tattered black feathers surrounded the dying seraph as his breathing became more and more labored.

  Jaylen stumbled backwards as his magic died down and his wings vanished. A cold realization swept over him while he watched his friend slipping away in front of him. He had done that. He had gotten in too deep and had left no escape plan, no rope to climb back up to the surface of where he had sunken down to. He was trapped. Jaylen wanted to go back and change everything, but he had come too far. The first fight of this battle had been won by him . . . for the side he never wanted to be fighting for. One thing was overwhelmingly certain. This war was just beginning.

  * * *

  Dark blood trailed from the top of the canyon where Nimiel had crawled and dragged himself after the smoke had settled and the demons left with Eternal Eclipse. His arms were trembling and his skin felt clammy, but he had to find a scout pack. He had to let Jeremiah know what had happened here. He forced his body to keep moving, despite the overwhelming pain and the need to sleep. Nimiel reached the bottom of the hill where the ancient riverbed turned into the wheat fields of Calchedona.

  Spread out in front of him for nearly a mile were corpses of Eternal Eclipse soldiers, demons, centaurs, and his own scouts. Buzzards circled around the area as others perched on the bodies and ripped them apart with their sharp beaks. Then he saw something that made him even sicker. The four angels that been accompanying the scout squads were mangled and bruised, their severed limbs and wings piled in a macabre scene almost like a shrine. All of their feathers had been ripped from their wings and strewn around the muddy battlefield. It was all too clear that even Guardian Angels were no match for those numbers of demons.

  Nimiel looked around for survivors through his blurring vision, but he saw none. Was he the only survivor? For now. He couldn't see how bad his injuries were, but he knew he would more than likely not recover without intense and immediate medical attention. He crawled over the lifeless bodies and broken arms, legs, and spines until he found one of his scouts with his pack still intact.

  Nimiel fumbled with the buckles and leather straps until he forced the pack open. Then he found what he needed more than his own life. A smoke signal vial of the correct color. Before all of this, he swore to Jeremiah that he would never find himself in the situation to use this one. But things changed. Jaylen changed. Nimiel pried the cork off of the vial then threw it against the rocky canyon side. The bright red smoke billowed up to the cliffs then gathered speed and plumed out high in the cloudy sky as more snow began to fall over the area.

  As Nimiel stayed there, his face pressed against the frozen ground, he felt the snowflakes falling over his skin. But they weren't melting. He reached out to catch a handful before bringing them to his nose. He looked around the area until he spotted the raging fires on the far side of the field. Screams filled the air as more fighting echoed against the canyon walls. He squinted in an attempt to focus on the blurry shapes that moved around the blazing infernos. He gasped when he saw it. They were burning survivors. Nimiel watched helplessly as his injured scouts were marched to the pyre then pushed into it. The sky was darkened not with clouds, but with smoke. Then it was all too obvious what was falling from that darkening sky. It wasn't snow. It was ash.

  Chapter 16

  Day Two: Morning

  Calchedona Wheat Fields, Calchedona, Vilyron

  Eternal Eclipse Invasion Force

  Jaylen sat near the fire and wiped the soot from his white armor with a polishing cloth as the other soldiers made breakfast for the camp. The mage-glow had just started to brighten into the pinks and oranges of an artificial sunrise behind the black forest that wrapped around the wheat fields. Grey doves pecked at the hardened soil in search of food while young deer, their coats still spotted, cautiously grazed among the ashes left from the previous day's burnings. Some of the coals continued to smolder on the blackened ground where so many had been burned alive or put out of their misery.

  Those burnings had continued late into the night as more and more survivors were rounded up, bound, then forced into the inferno. Their cries of agony kept everyone awake in their tents. No matter what Jaylen did or how close Zeriel held him, he could not stop imagining the terrified faces of the men who used to look to him for leadership. He had been their king, but when they needed him, he left them to this fate. At least one of the bodies had still not shown up yet. Nimiel's. The other angels who fell in battle had been paraded around as gory trophies until their mangled bodies were fed to the hoards of ravenous demons. Jaylen had stayed there to watch just in case Nimiel was one of them. Despite being the one who betrayed him and killed him, Jaylen needed to say his respects.

  He tried to forget about it all, to block the memories of the battle from his mind. Jaylen placed his helmet and the polishing rag on the ground then coughed into his hand. Bright red blood filled his palm. He quickly wiped his lips on his sleeve to see more blood. A high-pitched ringing filled his ears and his
heart raced.

  "That's not good."

  Jaylen did his best to hide the blood as he looked up to see Zeriel standing beside him. "I'm dying."

  "I know." Zeriel sat next to to him on the log then opened his black coat to reveal his right arm bandaged and immobilized in a sling against his chest. "I went to the healers who examined it. It's broken in two places. I won't be of much use until I can learn to shoot my shotgun with one hand."

  Jaylen scoffed as he looked down at his left wrist where his hand used to be. "It's not as easy as you thought, huh? At least yours will heal."

  "Any word on Nimiel?"

  "None. His body is probably still up on that cliff over the canyon." Jaylen watched the dying orange coals against the blackened ground. "Why did they burn the prisoners? Those people surrendered."

  "Carvael isn't interested in taking prisoners. That takes resources to keep them clothed and fed. This way is cheaper."

  "It's barbaric."

  Zeriel sighed and smoothed his spiky black hair. "Shouldn't that say something about the side you've joined? Are you ready to talk to me yet?"

  "About what?"

  "Anything. You've been so tight-lipped since joining Eternal Eclipse that I'd be surprised if you'd said more than one hundred words this entire time to me. Aren't you afraid of dying? Of Finalis? Or what about what you did to Nimiel yesterday? Tell me what happened between you two. Did you actually kill him?"

  Jaylen kicked a clump of dirt into the fire. "I don't want to talk about it."

  "You should be proud, right? You single-handedly defeated one of Vilyron's head generals, and a seraph at that. This should be a victory for you, but you don't look like you're joyous."

  "Because I'm not, Zeriel. I feel horrible."

  "Still not going to explain yourself to me, huh?" Zeriel asked. "Why join Carvael? Did you actually believe that pity story he told you about Oviel? Is that it? Did it bring back memories about what your father did to you? Is this all some ploy to get back at the angels for sentencing Xair to death? Your anger and hatred is not going to bring him back. He's gone, Jaylen."

  "I know, okay? But you weren't there to see it all. I watched as they killed him. No one but me stood up for him. No one else cared. Even Kato wasn't there to help me cope with it all."

  "Where is Kato?"

  "Gone. I threw her pendant away."

  "Jaylen!" Zeriel grabbed his shoulder. "Your wife's soul was in that."

  Jaylen pulled away from his angel's grasp then stared down at the thin silver band around his finger. "I know. I was in a bad place mentally. I didn't know what to do."

  "Where is that pendant?"

  "Somewhere in Ilyan. It doesn't matter anyway."

  "Answer me one thing. How long has it been since you prayed?" Zeriel asked.

  What a strange question. Jaylen absentmindedly slipped his hand underneath his shirt to touch the black X on his chest. "Praying isn't the answer."

  "Are you truly that far gone from who you are that you would believe that? The boy I fell in love with, the boy I would lay my life down for, the boy whose soul outshone even the sun itself, would never give up on faith. I know you feel hopeless and alone, being pressured by Finalis and Carvael, but know that your own faith can get you through so much, Jay. I see that spark still glowing in your eyes. It's fading and leaving you, but it is still there. It's not too late to fix this."

  Jaylen felt the stinging of tears building in his eyes as he reached over to lean on his angel and bury his face in his soft tunic. "Zeriel . . . hold me."

  "I will do my best with my broken arm, but you know I'm always here."

  "Tell me what to do."

  "You want my honest opinion?" Zeriel asked, pushing Jaylen's messy bangs behind his ears. "Even if it goes against your wishes?"

  "Please just tell me."

  "Surrender yourself to Jeremiah's forces. Stop this now before you kill any more of your friends. Face the facts, Jaylen. You are dying. Why not do something great with what life you have left? Do the right thing and make a difference. It's not too late for that. Look back at all you've overcome in this short life of yours. You were abused, beaten, trained to be an unthinking warrior, enslaved, tricked by people you believed to be friends, starved, and left to die. Then you lost your wife and your friend. You are stronger than anyone gives you credit for, Jay. Why would you even think about giving up and letting all of this be for nothing?"

  Jaylen looked around and behind them to make sure he was out of earshot of anyone in the camp. He leaned close to Zeriel and whispered to him. "I did have a plan. I thought Carvael was going to kill me before things got this far. I had hoped he would use me then kill me. I didn't think for one second that I was going to be fighting against my friends like this. Not truly."

  "So it was a suicide attempt?"

  "Yes. Then I woke up and realized where I was and what I had done. I didn't know what to do, so I did my best to form a plan out of what little I had left. I wanted to rebel and kill Carvael."

  "Is that what you want?" Zeriel asked.

  "Even if he was hurt by Oviel as a cherub, that doesn't excuse his actions. He has hurt far too many people to be forgiven easily. He has to be stopped."

  "Then why are you sitting here polishing the armor he gave you? Why did you kill Nimiel?"

  Jaylen rubbed his arms as a chill spread over his skin. "Because I'm too far invested in this side of the war. If I surrender and go back to Ilyan, Jeremiah will kill me for being a traitor."

  "But you know you only have a very short time left to live anyway. Why not end this madness here before more people you care about are hurt?"

  "Because . . . because I'm scared, Zeriel. I don't want to die."

  "Shh. It's okay. I know, Jay. I know." Zeriel surrounded his Master with his black wings then began to quietly hum the paladin dirge that they both knew all too well. There was a calm understanding between them, one that even a war could never sever.

  Jaylen silently cried into his angel's chest as he listened to the haunting notes that had brought him both peace and anguish over the years of his life. When he had been a paladin, it was a source of pride to know that he would protect his country and do Sola's will in the world. After he saw the horrors of The Cleansing for himself, the song became more of lamenting for those paladin friends he had lost on that night. Then it stayed with him in his nightmares. But for some reason on this deathly quiet morning in the foggy field where so many men died, the dirge was exactly what Jaylen needed to hear.

  A few minutes passed before there was shouting in the camp and the horses neighed frantically. A flock of white birds flew up from the wheat field as a sickening screeching shattered the peaceful silence of the early morning. The enslaved Ka'taylins ran across the field from their shoddy tents, throwing electricity and fire at the mass of angry demons that was chasing them.

  Carvael exited his tent and began issuing orders. He then looked over at Jaylen. "On your feet. What is going on here?"

  Jaylen stood and wiped the tears from his eyes before he put his helmet on and donned his armor with Zeriel's help. He pulled on his gauntlets. "I don't know. Whatever it is, I wasn't a part of it."

  One of the Ka'taylins raced up to Carvael then bowed. "Sir, Gavin the incubus broke free from his bonds and incited a riot. All of the demons we leashed yesterday are rebelling and attacking their masters."

  "And where is Gavin now?"

  "We don't know, sir."

  Carvael waved his hand dismissively. "Jaylen, get up here and stop them."

  Jaylen took two steps towards the archangel then raised his sword to point at him. "No."

  Carvael turned to look at him. "Excuse me?"

  Jaylen's palm began to sweat as he tightened his grip around the leather hilt. "I said no. If you care so much, then you do it yourself."

  "Insolent brat! You would dare to defy me in front of my troops? After all I've given you, all I've done for you, you have the gall to act like the spoiled ch
ild you are? You cannot pretend to be a man when we all see how infantile you are deep down. All the armor in Aldexa will never make you into a man. Now get in there and follow my orders."

  "Never."

  Carvael's eyes narrowed as he glared at him. He then turned and pointed to one of the officers in silver armor with a golden plume on his helmet. "General Sifiad, have your men take care of the demon problem. It seems I have to punish a certain boy who has forgotten where his place is."

  Zeriel pushed Jaylen towards Carvael. "Now's your chance while his back is turned. Do what the old Jaylen would have done. Make this right. Do this for everyone you've lost."

  The sword felt heavy in his hand, but he knew he had to swing. His lungs burned, but he knew he had to breathe. His mind was a mass of jumbled and broken thoughts, but he knew he had to focus. Jaylen closed his eyes and said a rapid and silent prayer to Sola before running at the archangel's back and sending his blade cleanly through his back. When his longsword had penetrated all the way through Carvael's chest and back between his large golden wings, Jaylen stepped back and waited for him to fall so he could finish him off.

  But that did not happen. Carvael chuckled darkly as he grabbed the tip of Jaylen's sword then forced it the rest of the way through, hilt and all, out of the front of his chest and tossed the blood-stained blade onto the ground. Blood dripped down his white robes and soaked through the fabric, but he remained standing. Carvael turned around with an evil grin on his face. "Nice try, Finalis."

  Jaylen's mouth fell open as he stared at the gaping hole in Carvael's chest. How was he still standing there? How was he even able to speak? His first instinct was to run, but as soon as he took his first step, strong hands grabbed his arms and held him steady. Jaylen looked to his sides to see the two soldiers that had restrained him. "How? You should be dead, angel or not."

  "So you confess?" Carvael asked.

  "Confess to what?"

  "Attempting to assassinate me, of course. You are a worthless little traitor, aren't you? You betray your country, your friends, and now me? Just where does your loyalty lie, boy? Well, I certainly cannot have traitors in my military. Axaniel, where are you, my pretty muscled angel? Get down here and show Jaylen how we deal with traitors."