The Awakener

by Amanda Strong

  Trent waltzed into Micah’s room the morning after the attack, announcing, “Hey, so what do we need to study, ‘cause I’m pretty important to this whole shindig.”

  Micah finished pulling his t-shirt down. “Did your hot guardian come to you last night?”

  “No, man, so not cool,” Trent replied, throwing himself down on the chaise.

  “Well, at least you didn’t get manhandled by a demon.” Micah rubbed his knee. “I’ve got bruises everywhere.”

  “All worth it—you have Sage,” Trent stated, as if that made it even.

  “And you have Gianna. Don’t you think you should tell her about your new redhead?”

  “I think that would be best kept between you and me. I wouldn’t want to scare her with demon stuff, you know.” Trent grinned, standing up.

  Micah grunted back at him.

  Entering the kitchen, it didn’t take long for Caterina to know something had happened the night before. The large, jagged scrape on Micah’s face gave it away. With a glance at each other, they told her everything, with her gasping at their words.

  “Wait, Gustavo needs to hear this too,” she interrupted, poking her head into the hall and hollering his name. Gustavo came in and they relayed the story over again, while Caterina fussed over Micah’s cut. She unscrewed a small vile and, dabbing some on her finger, she rubbed earthy-smelling liquid on his skin.

  “What’s that?” he asked, as his cut smarted.

  “Frankincense oil. It’ll keep that gash from scarring your handsome face.”

  “Thanks.” The ache subsided, the oil soothing it.

  Gustavo cleared his throat. “I think everyone would agree we need to get back to our reading.”

  Micah said, “Yeah, we need to read about the Watchers.”

  Gustavo stared at Micah.

  “The demon said the name Semjaza. I want to know who he is,” Micah said firmly.

  Gustavo sighed and then nodded.

  “Wait,” Trent interceded. “I haven’t been privy to all this because someone,” he shot an accusing look at Micah, “didn’t invite me. So you better get me up to speed first.”

  “You’re right,” Gustavo said. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

  Gathering at the breakfast nook, Gustavo pulled out their research—papers, volumes of old, heavy books, various maps, and even pamphlets and brochures, sprawled across the wooden table, while Caterina put the kettle on.

  “There is much to learn of Enoch,” Gustavo deep voice began. “There are many different writings about who he was and what he did. I have studied in the Vatican from the Book of Enoch itself. As you know, it is considered to be pseudoepigraphal, which is a big word for a work that claims to be written by a character in the Bible. In your Bible, you probably don’t see a Book of Enoch. He is barely mentioned in Genesis. There are many interesting things in the Apocryphal Book of Enoch, though.”

  Trent listened, uncharacteristically quiet.

  “According to Masonic Lore, and other sources, Enoch was the inventor of writing and books. He was a God-fearing man, teaching people to worship God, pray, fast, and pay alms and tithes. He was also a builder, teaching men, and his son Methuselah, the art of building cities.”

  “Like the city Micah saw?” Trent asked.

  “Perhaps, just like that. Enoch knew there was going to be a flood, so he built within his city an underground Temple, a vault.” Gustavo paused, Trent wide-eyed and waiting. “Let me back up a little. According to some Sumerian legends, there used to be seven wise men, or Sages. Each of these wise men had sacred knowledge on different subjects. On a tablet of the Assyrian oath incantations, it lists Enoch as the seventh wise man.”

  “What did he know? What was his sacred knowledge about?” Trent asked, engrossed.

  “Depends on what version you believe. Some writings say he discovered the Zodiac and knew the course of the planets. In the Book of Enoch, it says he saw the heavens and the stars. The Masons pass the tradition that he knew the secrets of building. Whatever his secret knowledge was, he buried it deep in his vaults. He knew the great flood was coming so, as I said before, he built an underground temple in his city. This temple was a series of vaults stacked one on top of another. In the deepest level, the ninth vault, he buried the secret he feared losing the most in the flood.

  “Some say it is the Grand Secret, engraved on a white, oriental stone. Others say it is written on a triangular tablet made of pure gold, called a delta. Another account says Enoch made two golden deltas, the larger one he placed on a white altar in the lowest level, and the other he gave to his son, Methuselah. Methuselah did work on the brick chambers of the temple. Then there is the legend of Enoch’s columns, made of granite and bronze. The bronze is a symbol of the mysteries. The Masons believe these columns hold philosophical and religious truths, unknown to the rest of the world, passed down through the years in tradition, allegories, symbols, and emblems.”

  All of this Micah already knew, but it was new to Trent. Everyone’s eyes were directed to him.

  “So we don’t know for sure what’s buried in vault nine,” Trent processed slowly, “but we know it was so important to Enoch, he built this underground temple before Noah to keep it from being flushed away in the flood. So we just have to find the underground vault, so we can see who’s right and what it was.”

  “Easier said than done.” Gustavo smiled. “But yes, that is exactly what we need to do.”

  “We think we need what’s in vault nine to build the golden city I’ve seen,” Micah added.

  Trent rubbed his hands together. “Sweet, now all I need’s a wicked leather jacket and a whip.”

  Both Gustavo and Caterina exchanged confused looks.

  Trent grinned. “I’d make an over-the-top Indiana Jones, don’t you think?”

  The couple smiled and Micah cleared his throat. “So, Semjaza?”

  Gustavo nodded. “Yes, let me tell you a little story first. Enoch’s father, Jared, was a prophet. During his life, a group of angels decided they wanted to leave heaven to be with mortal women. This was forbidden, of course, and these angels knew it. They did it anyway, signing an oath with their leader, an evil pact. These angels were known as the Watchers and their leader was Semjaza.”

  Micah felt the hairs on his arms raise.

  “Before they fell, the Watchers had been given sacred knowledge as well, when they were still good, not corrupted. They knew the mysteries of the clouds, sun, moon, stars, astrology, enchantments… you get the idea. When the angels fell from grace, they came to earth with that knowledge, but they used their sacred gifts for evil. Semjaza knew the mysteries of enchantments and root cutting. The Watchers taught man half-truths, powers, and for lack of a better word, magic.”

  “Like the old black magic Sage talked about,” Micah said, feeling uneasy.

  Gustavo answered, “Exactly that. Semjaza had a right hand man, Azazel. Azazel taught the art of war, how to form and use weapons, tempting man with the desire to kill.”

  Micah nodded his head slowly. “So, somehow Semjaza taught the demons how to break through the barrier and physically attack me, probably using enchantments.”

  “Yes, it appears so,” Caterina agreed.

  “This is very grave news,” Gustavo stated. “More serious than you realize.”

  “Why?” Trent asked.

  “You see, the Watchers were rounded up, bound, and buried, deep in the earth, long ago. They’ve remained imprisoned for thousands of years. The fact that they are somehow breaking through their own binding is very—”

  “Freaky,” Trent cut in.

  “Yes, Trent. Very freaky indeed,” Caterina confirmed.