by Han, George
Mathew looked at Sarah, then turned to Maganus. The siblings held hands and remained silent.
The group moved on and the fog lifted in the late afternoon, much to Maganus’s delight. They were entering the virgin woods which seemed to harbor a potential hazard in every tree and shrub.
The dense woods grew thicker as the group managed an undulating journey over the terrain. They halted for another meal, and Father Bellator refilled their water containers. After food and rest, they continued and found the woods growing sparse, with little cover against the chill winds that sliced across the terrain like a merciless sword.
As light withdrew, with the inevitable arrival of the night, Father Bellator found a large tree with overarching branches as the resting point. A strong gust of wind buffeted them, then a loud shrill drew their attention.
Maganus smiled at the familiar sound. He recognized the signs of Pologus. The hawk swooped down and perched on Maganus’s right arm.
Within seconds, lightning flashed in the sky, followed by more gusts of wind.
Mathew held Sarah close. “Who is it? Allies? Or Demons?” he asked.
“Benign, Mathew,” Maganus said.
Mathew and Sarah stood in awe as the winds gathered into a whirl and a portal opened to a path of light. A figure materialized, mounted on a handsome steed of black and red.
“My brother angel!” Maganus exclaimed.
Jin bit his lips. “You are in a bad shape, Maganus.”
“I could do with a word of encouragement.”
“I am your best encouragement. Say a prayer of thanks.”
“Thank you.”
“I came immediately after Pologus located me.”
Maganus stroked the hawk. “Pologus seldom misses his targets.”
Jin riveted his eyes on Mathew and the girl next to him. “What happened after I left?”
Maganus nodded towards the siblings. “They are the ones.”
“The ones the Demons are hunting.”
“Who did the Demons send?”
“Count Raum, the conjurer.”
Maganus noticed the scratches on Jin’s armour. “You had a bad time too. Who was it?”
“Eberhard.”
Maganus’s eyes widened. “He is back?”
Jin’s turned to the children. “You have suffered and thank God you are alive.”
“Many Kings and kinglings are vulnerable. I have also lost contact with Gwyneth.” Jin said.
Maganus’s thick eyebrows dropped. “Has something happened?”
Jin was silent.
“Gwyneth will be fine. Did things go well for you?”
“If I had been a moment late, Eberhard would have changed the course of.”
Maganus shook his head in dismay, then turned to Mathew as if he were about to speak.
“A new Angel?” Mathew asked. “Our chances of leaving are boosted.”
Maganus made the introduction and Mathew bowed slightly.
“The kingling?” Jin asked. “And a worried one.”
Mathew looked edgy. “Not our fight really but what can we do…”
Jin dismounted and stepped forth. “I can sense reluctance in your tone. There is the inability to accept.” Jin frowned “Residual doubt, my friend?”
“What is it, Jin?” Maganus asked.
“Your faith is like a flagging kite in the autumn winds, lost and scattered.”
Maganus eyed Jin before looking at Mathew. “That is a danger.”
“Danger?” Mathew was bewildered “Just a doubt. I am entitled to my fears. I…I should be allowed to deliberate. I am just scared.”
Jin nodded “You are but once the heart waver, the Demons will triumph.”
Mathew lamented, head dropped. “I am just worried about Sarah.”
“That is understandable.” Maganus said.
“You need a lesson in Kings and the importance of faith, it seems.” Jin interjected.
“What do you plan to do?” Maganus asked
Jin said “I think he needs a ride. Patch the holes in his faith and steeled his will.”
“A ride?” Mathew asked.
Before Mathew could utter another word, Jin had wrapped his powerful arms around him and roped him onto the saddle of his handsome steed.
Jin mounted and raised the reins, as a dumbfounded Mathew looked at Maganus for a clue. But the Angel of the Woods simply stroked his beard and nodded approvingly.
“Journey teaches a thousand lessons, my boy,” Jin said and urged his steed into a portal of light.
Chapter 27
Down the Memory Lane
Landsberg Prison 1924
“Where are we?”Mathew asked.
Jin’s was silent and Mathew struggled but found the Angel’s arms strong and unrelenting “Please tell me what’s going on. You’re not going sacrifice my sister, too, are you? I must go back and protect Sarah!”
When Jin still did not reply, Mathew clamped his jaws.
“Do you know how I feel?”
Jin was silent.
“Jin, did you hear me?”
No reply
“Are you even human? Can you understand my feelings? My sister is there in the middle of a forest.”
Jin finally spoke “I am not human. I am an Angel, and that identity comes with responsibility. However, I was once a human. I understand.”
“But…”
“Sit tight, Mathew.”
Jin’s flat tone jolted Mathew out of his tantrums and he sat tight and quiet like a tamed child.
The powerful steed galloped down a tunnel of light. Mathew watched the surroundings change like a kaleidoscopic map of colors. At times he shivered from a wintery chill; at other moments he began to sweat from a burning sensation. He felt as if he were travelling through the seasons.
They left the tunnel and landed on a lawn, next to a stone-paved road. The path of light disappeared and Mathew saw a building in front of them. He rubbed his eyes in an effort comprehend the foreign and ancient-looking architecture.
Jin dismounted and helped Mathew to the ground. Mathew nearly stumbled and grabbed Jin’s arm for balance.
“What is this all about?”
“I will show you the reason for this struggle, this fight, and this war between us and Demons. I am letting you see the importance of staying strong and fighting.” Jin replied.
“But Sarah...?”
“She is in safe hands. Come.”
“Where are we?”
“Germany.”
“Why we are in Germany when we faced mortal danger back in America””
Jin grimaced. “Mathew, you will only get this experience once in your lifetime. A man learns most when he learns to hold his tongue.”
Mathew swallowed. “Fine.”
Jin smiled and led the boy up the building’s stairs.
“Wait, I think I had seen this building before. I …” Mathew said.
“Landsberg Prison.” Jin muttered.
“In 2018, I don’t think it is still a prison. It is a museum or something.”
“This is not 2018,” Jin said.
Mathew furrowed his brow as he took in his surroundings.
“It is 1924, Mathew.”
“But how …”
“This is time travel, my friend. I have to make you see the point. I am making this exception for you, a human being.”
Mathew winced. “Thank you Lord Jin, I am deeply gratified.”
“You are ready to start?” Jin asked.
When Mathew nodded, Jin clapped, and they found himself in a dimly lit room, a cubicle about ten feet by fifteen. A lamp on the wall shed a frail light.
Mathew shielded his nose. “The stench! How can anybody stay here?”
Jin did not reply but simply looked towards a corner of the cell.
As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Mathew began to see the outline of a man sitting on a bed with a thin mattress. The man concentrated on a paper pad that he held before him. His facial fe
atures were obscured by shadows and, and Mathew stood unmoving as he witnessed the man’s fanatic motions of scribbling, striking out the jottings on his pad, and more scribbling.
“Do you think we should hide?” Mathew whispered.
“He can’t see us or hear us,” Jin said.
“How could that be possible?”
“We are in another dimension, not in his. Time is a medium that you might need years to understand, Mathew,” Jin said. “Now, just watch.”
Mathew returned his attention to the inmate, who had begun to roll about on the bed. Then, the man sprang up and threw his paper pad to the floor.
Mathew had a better view of the man. His slender face was framed in throbbing belligerence, and a frown seemed to be permanently etched on his brow; his complexion was sallow from the lack of sunshine. Mathew became transfixed by the man’s animated movements and darting eyes.
The man began to ramble. He picked up his pencil and pad, and scribbled furiously. Occasionally, he bit the tip of the pencil and then continued to scribble.
His self-talk became a continuous stream that at times multiplied into loud and intense ramblings.
“German. He’s talking in German”
Jin snapped his fingers and in that instant Mathew could understand the man’s words as if a translator had been inserted in his mind.
“He who would live must fight. He … who ...”
The inmate stood up and sat at a small desk, where he continued to write, ponder, and rewrite.
“He who would live must fight. He … who … does not wish to fight in this world, where permanent struggle … is the law of life, has not the right to exist.”
Mathew looked at Jin, then back to haggard man.
“A true man stands up for his beliefs. He goes beyond conventional means to power. He …”
The man wrote down his words, paused and continued. “Humanity requires a true man, leading a true race to lead …” Pause. “That true race is the Aryan race, group of men born to lead.”
The inmate paused, then jumped onto his chair and cried.
Immediately, Mathew heard a banging on the cell’s iron door, and the inmate sat down on his chair again. He dropped his pencil and flashed a sly smile towards the door. “Sie dachten, sie konnten Nagel Mich. … They thought they could nail me.”
He looked around his cell like a triumphant conqueror dispensing ridicule to a crowd of disbelievers. “This is too small for a great man. You cowards out there; all you could do was imprison me. You can set me back for a couple of years, but I will be out … I will be.” His thin lips extended into a cocky smile.
He picked up his pencil and continued to scribble away, babbling simultaneously. “The world needs a perfect race, a solution to all its troubles. You imbeciles out there.”
Mathew wiped his wet forehead. He felt his heart pounding in his chest as Jin explained. “This is a man who could be King of Men but he lost the battle to the Demons. He failed the test and gave in to the temptations of the Demons.”
“Your loss must have significant implications for the world.” Mathew remarked.
Jin muttered “Understatement.”
“They captured his heart and soul when he was very young, seventeen of age” Jin explained. “The Demons saw his potential and transformed him into a Demon, beyond our wildest imagination. This is the reason why the Guardian Angels were mandated to defend the kinglings. Potential leaders of men are highly vulnerable. The Demons are vultures of souls, waiting for men to falter.”
The inmate continued writing but Mathew could still hear his jabber.
“Those who want to live, let them fight, and those who do not want to fight in this world of eternal struggle do not deserve to live … Even if this was hard—that is how it is! Assuredly, however, by far the harder fate is that which strikes the man who thinks he can overcome Nature, but in the last analysis only mocks her. Distress, misfortune, and diseases are her answer.”
The man smiled and stared hungrily at his scribbling. He flipped to a fresh piece of paper and continued. “We will be strong again. Germany will be strong again, run by one true race. Hell … to all those inferior stock of another race.”
The man released a deep-throated laughter that was amplified in the small room.
Mathew swore as his pulse quickened. He turned to Jin, who gave him an icy cold stare. “Adolf Hitler!” Mathew said. “Writing Mein Kempf.”
“Yes,” Jin replied. “The genius and an evil one after the Demons captured his soul.”
“Hitler ...” Mathew repeated as he felt the color drain from his face.
“Are you alright?” Jin asked.
“I am beginning to appreciate the significance of your gesture,” he mumbled.
“Adolf was one of our potential Kings,” the Angel continued. “Groomed from youth, brought up in adversity; he had such strength in his character. He impressed many of the Guardian Angels with his tenacity and intelligence. But all strength carried to extreme breeds a fault, an imperfection. There was a tendency in him to take extremes. You can blame the harsh conditions that he grew up in, but adversity does not have favourites or make exemptions. Adolf made the wrong choice, and no Angel can turn back a King who had decided on the dark side.”
“Freewill.”
“Yes, no Angel’s power can overpower the free will of man. In the end, Adolf’s desire for the dark side was so strong that it defeated our powers.”
“Defeated?”
“Yes. You will know in time to come. The hatred in a human’s heart is the strongest weapon against all things good. For Adolf, he had a choice. He had free will, the quality that Maganus had mentioned to you, but he used it for the wrong reasons.”
Mathew shook his head. “The Demons won if man had already chosen the dark side.”
Jin nodded. “We lost Adolf Hitler to a powerful leader of the Demons. They call him Barbatos, Lord Barbatos.” The Guardian Angel struggled for words. “He saw the potential in Hitler and seduced him. When we discovered the temptation, the Demons had already gone too far. We lost him thoroughly. It was a bruising battle I will never forget.”
“Terrific encounter?”
“Terrific? I am sure there are appropriate adjectives to describe our battles.” Jin extended his hand and rolled up the sleeve to reveal an ugly scar that stretched to his bicep.
“He broke your hand?” Mathew exclaimed.
“It was a wound from his sword—the Dark Soul, the Acerbas.” Jin spoke in a low voice. “I lost my life to bring the potential King of Men back but failed.”
“Maganus stressed that quality.”
“He has his reasons for speaking of it. Do not underestimate that trait. That is the singular power that shapes the future. It is a strength embedded in every King of Men. Every King will be tested; his soul put through harsh fires much like raw metal to the furnace. The outcome of all these tests rests solely upon the decision of the individual. Angels can assist but Demons can counterinfluence with their stealth and treachery. Man, alone, decides the outcome with his gift of freewill.”
Mathew nodded. Words failed him as awareness dawned upon him.
“His choice brought human civilization to a standstill,” Jin said. “Six years of mayhem could have reversed two centuries of progress. If we did not lose him, you would have had a unified Europe, decades in advance, avoiding the cataclysmic losses in human lives.”
Mathew turned back to look at the infamous inmate who continued with his incessant and incoherent blather. “Incredible. I am witnessing the birth of Mein Kampf—the political road map，conceived in hatred, and rooted in a twisted ambition to dominate. It became the crystallization of the thoughts that anchored the movement of hatred that took Germany by storm and plunged Europe, and the rest of the world, into war.”
“Individuals like him, and all other Kings, are the vehicle that drives the destiny of mankind forward,” Jin said. “Once we lose a King, history, the future progression of events
, is completely altered. It is just a train traveling on the railway tracks, you derail the locomotive, and you changed the entire course. Sometimes, that happens with unexpected consequences. ”
“Completely altered? The what-if’s of history?”
Jin smiled. “You only need to imagine.”
“Imagination has no bounds. What if George Washington chose to be king? What if Napoleon had won at Waterloo? What if the Spanish Armada had defeated the English fleet?”
“What if Hitler had not gone over to the dark side? What if he had resisted hatred?” Jin asked.
Mathew ruminated.
“We will never know the ‘what-ifs.’ ” However, we have witnessed the costs of our lapse. Adolf Hitler shifted the course of history for humanity under our watch. A painful shift, a costly divergence from the original course.”
Mathew shook his head as his eyes rolled over to the inmate, consumed in his furious scribbling.
Jin grabbed Mathew’s arm.
“What is it?”
“I think we should go. We must. Something has happened.” Jin was grave.
Chapter 28
The Flocking Enemies
“Do you need something to drink, Maganus?” Father Bellator asked.
Maganus shook his head, but he remembered Sarah. “Is she fine?”
“Warm food, and I have passed her a scarf.”
“Bless your soul. You caring warrior.”
“I am always a caring soul. I am one of the best in Aachen.”
Maganus chucked. “I am sure that’s why they sent you here.”
The two exchanged glances and Bellator laughed, the humor diluting the tension in the air.
“I sure miss a good warm meal of meat and wine,” Maganus said.
Father Bellator laughed. “Don’t let Lord Michael hear that.”
Maganus cringed as he thought of the Archangel’s disapproving stance on his weakness for good food and wine.
“The only thing we could get easily now is roasted Demons,” Bellator joked.
“You can keep that. You evil priest,” Maganus retorted.
“I will try to get some for you, Lord Maganus.”
Maganus did not reply. Instead he looked skyward and frowned.
