The Antithesis- The Complete Pentalogy

by Terra Whiteman

I laughed. “You don’t trust me? Really? That coming from the very woman who raised Qaira Eltruan from the dead and waved him in our faces. Have you any shame?”

  Leid said nothing, stoic. I’d struck a chord.

  “Qaira being here was not my doing, and you know it,” she said after a moment. “And if you thought I was capable of killing him…”

  Leid trailed off, looking away.

  “You have Belial Vakkar.”

  Maybe.

  “You’re housing a fugitive accused of high treason.”

  “He was our informant, aiding in the Contest. That’s not high treason.”

  “He evaded arrest, murdered five Obsidian Court guards and injured the Obsidian First General. That is high treason.”

  “Samnaea Soran,” said Leid, frowning. “An interesting choice, although I’m sure you have your reasons for promoting her. Belial sings a very different tune, Commander. He claims Samnaea killed his wife after his arrest and he retaliated. Judging by General Soran’s track record, I’m forced to believe Archdemon Vakkar.”

  “So you won’t hand him over.”

  “I will not. He is proving useful to our cause.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but noticed a thread of blood trickling from Leid’s nose. Anger turned to momentary confusion, and my look was enough to alert her to wipe it away. But then I noticed other things, like the sickly sheen of her skin and the dark circles under her eyes.

  Her façade shattered. Confidence gave way to vulnerability, and Leid sagged in her seat.

  “I’m dying,” she whispered. “I don’t want to see this world in ruins before I go. Lucifer, it can’t be like this.”

  “There’s no other way,” I said, apologetic. “We’ve tried for years. You’ve seen it yourself. War is imminent. I wish it wasn’t.”

  She sighed, pained. “Then I will spend my final days fighting you; end it where it all began. See you on the battlefield.”

  Static.

  I stared at the screen long after Leid had severed our connection. For centuries her looks had gone ignored, as did the tone of her voice whenever we spoke. But it was clear she blamed me for what had happened to Qaira. I’d tried to make peace by offering asylum, yet her forgiveness was forced, like a wild animal trapped in captivity, forced to tolerate her master.

  I wouldn’t try anymore. I’d had no hand in Sanctum’s fall, as much as she believed otherwise. In fact, Sanctum’s fall was more her doing than anyone else’s. Only she and Qaira were at fault.

  My thumb slid over the Aeon, dialing Junah WDR.

  When the front desk answered, I asked for a transfer to Dr. Caelis Jonarr’s private frequency. Another minute, and then he spoke:

  Good afternoon, Commander.

  Proceed with the prototypes, Dr. Jonarr.

  … You’re certain?

  I’m certain.

  Very well. I’ll send a diagnostic report to Akkaroz once the design is complete.

  We ended our exchange without goodbyes. The cadence hadn’t called for any.

  Looking once more at the screen, I sighed, wishing I could say I hadn’t seen this coming. Leid was always arrogant in her ways, but she didn’t have the element of surprise like last time—;

  This time, I was miles ahead of her.

  VII

  QUANDARY AND CONUNDRUM

  Yahweh Telei—;

  “SIR.”

  Seyestin’s voice startled me awake and I shot up in my seat, smoothing my hair. I glanced at the time. It was early morning; I’d slept half the night at my desk.

  My first general stood at the door, fingers curled against the frame. He’d knocked, but I hadn’t heard. Allowing me a moment to compose myself, he then said, “Theosyne WDR has completed our request. We’re moving all artillery aboard the Ezekiel.”

  It’d been two weeks since we had sought the Jury’s counsel. Leid and I had held two more meetings to create, and refine, a surmountable war plan.

  The Ezekiel had sat unattended for three hundred and fifty years. Heaven’s only military ship, it had been designed by WDR in case the Contest fell through. According to Belial Vakkar, Hell had a base ship for each of its layers, so once again, we were sorely outnumbered. Lucifer had been building arms all the while, right under my nose.

  How long had Lucifer planned for war? After Archdemon Vakkar’s insight, I’d known his declaration wasn’t made on whim. I should have seen this coming somehow.

  Somehow.

  I was still wiping drool from the corner of my mouth. “Thank you.” I eyed the table across the room as my nose caught the aroma of fresh coffee. The dispenser was on, brewing. “Thank you,” I said again. Seyestin knew me like the back of his hand.

  He smirked. “Should I call your driver to take you home?”

  “For what?”

  He lifted a brow. “You’ve been wearing the same clothes for two days. You haven’t left your office just as long.”

  “No, I have too much work to do,” I mumbled, gathering disheveled stacks of files that had served as my pillow. “Get WDR on my private line so I can go over the artillery manifest. I need to call Commander—Advisor—Koseling later this morning and schedule another meeting. Will you come to Purgatory? You and Cereli, too?”

  Seyestin hesitated, seeming concerned. “I can go, but Cereli is processing recruits.”

  “Right,” I said, having completely forgotten. I needed coffee.

  “Sir, why don’t you let me handle your work for a couple of hours? I will talk to WDR, I will call Leid and set up another meeting. You should go home and rest. And bathe. You’re not yourself and, quite frankly, I refuse to go anywhere with you looking like… that.” He waved a hand at my crumpled, sloppy ensemble.

  Seyestin usually treaded his boundaries. I understood his worry and knew that he hadn’t meant to insult me. He was only trying to preserve my dignity. “Let me have some coffee before you kick me out.”

  He sighed, moving to the table to pour me a cup. As he approached to hand it over, I noticed the fatigue lines on his face and dark circles under his eyes. “How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

  “That’s not your concern.”

  I frowned, incredulous.

  “I am a soldier, Commander,” he reminded me. “I’ve had my fair share of sleepless nights.”

  It was true that he had served Theosyne long before I’d taken office. He and Cereli had been in Lucifer’s Elite Guard, before the Fall. Outspoken at times, yet loyal, General Trede’s qualities surpassed his shortcomings.

  “Let me call your driver,” he said again, heading for the door while I quietly sipped my coffee, gazing out the window. “I’ll notify you of any updates.”

  “Mm.”

  Seyestin left my office. I watched the door close behind him

  A shower did sound nice.

  ***

  I awoke as the sun crept behind Crylle’s towers, immersing the city and my bedroom window in orange light.

  Squinting against the light, I huddled deeper into my blanket until the drowsiness of sleep faded and I remembered who I was, and what was happening. I shot out of bed, reaching for my Aeon, dialing General Trede’s private line with clenched teeth.

  Good evening, Commander. Did you sleep well? His tone was spirited, which made my anger even hotter.

  You promised to call me with updates. I was only supposed to rest through the morning.

  And updates you shall get. I’m ten minutes from your estate.

  What? I drew back the curtain, looking over the city.

  Leid and her guardians are meeting with us in an hour at Cerasaraelia. I’ve brought the weapons manifest so you and she can look them over there.

  Anger faded, and gratitude came flooding in. I couldn’t deny that I felt a thousand times better. I need to get dressed. See you soon.

  The ride to the cephalon was mostly quiet. Seyestin sat in the seat across mine, watching Crylle blur by in night’s shadow. Lights from Aeroway traffic signals ref
lected against the glass panes of the craft, illuminating his eyes. His expression was melancholy, and I knew that even though he feigned confidence, it was all for my sake. He was just as terrified as me.

  They all were.

  We both wore suits—mine black, his white—adorned with the sigil of Argentia. Seyestin caught me looking at him from time to time, returning my gaze through the window’s reflection. He didn’t say anything, musing silently to himself. His hair hid the side of his face, hanging just under his jaw, angled shorter in the back. He was much older than me, closer to Lucifer’s age, but still looked boyish at times. He and his sister were beautiful creatures, built tall, lean, and powerful. In the end, I had honored Qaira’s advice.

  I had surrounded myself with powerful people.

  “What is it like?” I whispered.

  He looked at me. “Sir?”

  “How does it feel to have served someone like Lucifer Raith for hundreds of years, only then to be forced to serve someone like me?”

  The confusion faded from his eyes and I saw his mouth begin to move, as if he would reply. But he didn’t. He looked back out the window, and it was a long time before I heard, “I live to serve the Archaean Commander, no matter whom. My opinion of you or Commander Raith is irrelevant.”

  “Knock it off with your diplomacy.”

  I heard him laugh quietly. “You’re inexperienced at war, but your heart is in the right place. I don’t regret serving you.”

  Seyestin had a way of answering a question without completely answering it. I mumbled a form of acknowledgment, forced to accept his vague response. I could tell he was uncomfortable, as never before had I shown any lack of confidence. But things were different now.

  ***

  Adrial Trisyien saw Seyestin and me into Cerasaraelia, guiding us to their library. Zhevraine stood in front of a long wooden table at the center of the room, an Aeon holo-graph resting atop it. An IMAGE PENDING message flickered in soft blue light above the device, rotating slowly.

  Belial Vakkar sat at a desk a little ways from the table, thumbing his portable Aeon. Only one probe was attached to his temple, and he didn’t even acknowledge our entrance. He frowned with a degree of concentration at the screen, as if looking for something or having a conversation.

  A conversation with whom, I wondered.

  “Leid will be here in a moment. She’s… preparing,” said Adrial, noticing our curious glances around the room. I took from his tone that he was lying.

  “Where is Justice Czynri?” Seyestin inquired, and I inhaled sharply. “He hasn’t been here for weeks.”

  “In Exo’daius,” Adrial said, he and I sharing a look.

  Seyestin frowned, incredulous. “I thought you weren’t allowed there anymore.”

  “We aren’t, but they’ve made an exception for him. It’s not a permanent arrangement. He’ll be back sooner or later.”

  “Hopefully later than sooner,” he muttered, and from the corner of my eye I saw Belial smirk. It was no secret that Seyestin and Justice Czynri didn’t get on.

  Thankfully he didn’t press any further, as even Seyestin knew that Vel’Haru affairs were their own and we were obligated by their code not to pry even an inch.

  I stood in silent agreement. I hoped Qaira came back later than sooner, too.

  “Drinks?” offered Adrial.

  “Please,” I said, and to my surprise Seyestin nodded as well.

  He named a few liquor selections—none of which I recognized—and once we’d decided he left the library to fetch them. Zhevraine stood stoic, statue-like, at the table. Her eyes were drawn ahead, gazing at nothing. Of all the judges, she was hardest to read.

  Belial removed the probe from his temple and reclined in his seat, throwing us a bemused look. There was still no sign of Leid.

  “Are we early?” I asked the others. Zhevraine shook her head, while Belial grinned.

  “Leid’s been under the weather lately,” he said, and Zhevraine shot him a sidelong glance. He winked, honoring her silent threat. “You’ll hear all about it once she’s here.”

  “I didn’t realize she told you already,” stated Zhevraine, surprised.

  “She didn’t,” said Belial with a shrug, “but I do have ears, you know, and it’s really hard to sleep with her and Adrial having at it every other night.”

  Zhevraine rolled her eyes, saying nothing.

  Seyestin and I only looked at each other.

  Ten minutes of uncomfortable silence later, Leid appeared in the doorway, leaning on the frame. Infirm, frail, it seemed she was doing everything in her power just to keep her head up.

  I hadn’t seen her for a week, and in that week’s time she had shriveled into something unrecognizable. Pale and lethargic, eyes sunken, their violet shine without luster. I couldn’t stop the loud gasp that erupted from my throat. Seyestin seemed horrified, too.

  At our reaction, Leid lowered her gaze. “Good evening,” she said. Even her voice was weak.

  “What’s happened?” I asked, stepping forward. “Are you alright?”

  “No,” she almost whispered. “But I’ll get to that. Where’s Adrial?”

  “Fetching refreshments,” said Zhevraine, beckoning her with a worried, sympathetic look.

  Leid came to her side, appearing even smaller than normal. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she said, “I’ll begin without him, then. He already knows.”

  We stood silent, waiting.

  Leid’s eyes moved around the library. “I’m expiring, and there isn’t a lot of time left. I didn’t accurately gauge my decline, but don’t worry,” she smiled, “this is just a spell. The spells will get worse, though, and last longer each time. Eventually I will slip into a coma, and then I will die.”

  “Die?” I asked, tilting my head. “I’ve been told a Vel’Haru death was never documented.”

  “Naturally, no.”

  I held my breath, catching her drift. Expiration was spoken of before, but its meaning had eluded me until now. It still did, somewhat. “Are you too sick to advise?”

  “Tell him everything,” said Adrial from the door, holding a tray of drinks. “Yahweh deserves to know all the risks.”

  Leid gave him a fractious look. And then she did.

  Expiration was a natural process of the Vel’Haru life cycle, but was alien to the one we experienced. Where we grew old and died, Vel’Haru grew old and turned mad. Leid warned us that should we continue our plans with her as Advisor, there was a risk she might turn on us, along with everything in her path. When I asked how long she thought she had, Leid shook her head.

  “A month or two at most,” she said.

  I doubted we could win the war in a month or two, and it was clear from Seyestin’s expression that he thought the same. We were standing at a crossroads now; one road led to perdition, the other certain death.

  “Die or lose,” Belial said, smiling despite everything. “What hand will you play, Commander Telei?”

  “You seem awfully cheery, given the news,” sneered Seyestin.

  “I’m facing death either way,” said Belial. “With Leid I face a smaller chance of death, albeit fractional, so I’m onboard with her coming along for the ride.”

  “And you?” Leid asked, nodding at me. “If that’s a risk you can’t take, I understand. We will go over the plans here and I’ll give you as much counseling as I can until the Ezekiel departs from Crylle, but then you’re on your own.”

  All eyes rested on me, awaiting my verdict.

  This was probably the hardest decision I’d ever had to make. I hesitated, measuring pros and cons, as only my logical brain could do. The pros and cons weighed equal. I might as well have flipped a coin.

  “You said that there’s only a slight chance you won’t fall into coma,” I repeated for good measure.

  “Of the ten expirations I’ve witnessed, one noble did not fall into coma, and I was his guardian.”

  I looked away, gathering that the chance was more than slig
ht. Still, without Leid our loss was imminent. I would save Heaven, even if it meant my death. “It’s a risk I’ll take, Advisor Koseling.”

  Leid seemed relieved, while Adrial and Seyestin were clearly against my decision. I averted their stares. “Let’s talk about the plan.”

  ***

  The plan was first strike.

  In two weeks we had gathered twenty thousand soldiers and four thousand pilots. What we had amassed so far was nowhere near the number in Hell’s army, but it was definitely enough to engage a single layer. Crylle would continue processing recruits and building arms while we invaded Hell.

  Invaded Hell; I still couldn’t believe it.

  Belial had an informant in the Obsidian Court—he had numerous informants, but this one was particularly valuable—who told him that the Archdemons were still trying to unify Hell. There were some political issues amiss: protests against the war and controversy surrounding Belial’s charges of high treason. Lucifer had issued an evacuation notice for the first two layers and civilians were fleeing to Tehlor and Orias. If we attacked soon, the occupation of Avernai would be easy enough.

  Lucifer was expecting a first strike, hence the evacuation, but certainly not so soon.

  Take Hell, layer by layer. Our first target was Malphas Tremm in Avernai. Without an Archdemon, the layer would crumble.

  A unified Hell would bring Heaven to her knees. That was why we wouldn’t give them a chance to unite. A successful first strike would reinforce their fears of the angels, and hysteria would commence. Their morale would plummet.

  Leid was already serving me well.

  As the meeting drew to a close, I stood with her on Cerasaraelia’s back veranda, overlooking the garden. Seyestin, Belial, Adrial and Zhevraine remained in the library, going over the details. We would leave Crylle in three days.

  In three days, war would commence.

  War against my father and the demons. For a thousand years we’d practiced war through chess; it had taken me this long to see it.

  Leid’s gaze was sullen, drawn ahead. She smoked an otherworldly, foul smelling cigarette, immersed in thought. I watched her, silent, wanting to offer comfort but not knowing how. The idea of her gone left me with an empty feeling, sort of like the feeling I’d get whenever I thought of Qaira. She and I had not seen eye to eye on every matter, but in the end we had known each other so long, been through so much, we were practically family.