The Redmadafa

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The Redmadafa Page 6

by Gary Foshee


  look around for a while and after that, I can head home. When

  I show up back home with my pockets full of jewels, I will be a

  king. Caboose looked around and then walked over and stood in

  front of the gate. He bowed down on one knee and sang:

  “I am happy, I am free,

  I’m in charge of my destiny.

  No more hurting, no more sob,

  pass through me gate and become like God.”

  A thunderous crack echoed through the canyon wal s as the

  gate opened. Seduced with excitement, Caboose walked over

  and stood in the middle of the gate. The fresh smell of adventure garbled his mind. The garden was enchanting and beyond imagination. It was just as he had seen through the crack and even

  better. Lush tropical spurs funneled hundreds of waterfal s over tall mountain ridges on every side. Crimson, auburn, indigo,

  emerald, jade, burgundy, scarlet, and violet colored gems lined

  the granite wal s. Yellow and red mushy marts—mushy marts

  that explode in your mouth as you eat them—lined an elaborate

  mosaic path which wound through the garden toward the sea.

  Blue tongue sickles glittered in his eyes making his mouth sali-

  vate. Caboose tried to see what they were connected to, but they weren’t connected to anything; they magical y floated in the air.

  An enormous garden full of Blossom Berry trees, Caboose’s

  favorite, beckoned his lustful desire for greed and indulgence.

  Down the middle of the garden flowed a purple mountain maj-

  esty stream. It sparkled with a luminous glow and waved at him

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  THE REDMADAFA

  before uniting with a crystal sea. Its water was cold, ice cold and sweet like brumpel juice—Caboose’s grandmother made him

  brumpel melon juice all the time back home. Caboose drank so

  much that his stomach rumbled and sloshed about as he walked

  down the al uring path.

  He ran around the garden and stuffed his bel y will all kinds

  of magical delights—even his hunger bugs had had their fill and

  agonized in pain from gluttony. He swung from vines and can-

  nonballed into the middle of the stream, over and over, splashing water way-up in the sky, soaking much of the garden in delightful drops of purple mountain majesty. He tumbled down hil s woven

  thick with tall green grass.

  I must be in heaven, he thought to himself, lying on his back

  staring up into the sky. I can live here forever and never need

  anything again. There is food, water, and Blossom Berry trees.

  I’ve done it. I’ve found paradise…and it’s all mine.

  From the other side of the stream hundreds of little voices

  echoed, “Pay the fee and you’ll be free.”

  Caboose, half asleep and sure that he was dreaming, raised

  his head slightly off the ground.

  “30 pieces is all I ask, 30 pieces such a small task,” said the

  voices again.

  He remembered. Lucky said there was a fee for going through

  the gate. “A treasure chest! Yes. I’m supposed to find a treasure chest.”

  Caboose got up and strolled back down to the path. He

  peered down toward the sea. At the end was a golden chest

  carved with open flowers and an image of a serpent in-between

  two palm trees. He wobbled down the path and approached the

  chest. All kinds of colors glinted from the chest, radiating sparkles from the box-of-dreams.

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  Dr. Gary Warren Foshee

  He reached down and opened it.

  He couldn’t believe his eyes. He ran his fingers through gold

  and silver coins, diamonds, sapphires, and all types of priceless jewels.

  “It’s all mine. Lucky said I could keep all of it except for thirty pieces of silver. But where?” he thought. “Where do I pay the fee?”

  His eyes surveyed the garden. He noticed a whirlwind circling

  on the other side of the stream right in front a Titan tree—Titan trees are the oldest and wisest trees in the entire world. Caboose knew of only one other; the one that lived by The Redmadafa.

  In the whirl, thousands of little white bogies fluttered. As he

  watched, the bogies formed into a face and whispered, “This way

  Caboose. Hurry, don’t be late.”

  He picked out 30 silver coins and started for the stream. He

  slid down the bank and scouted for a way to cross. Up stream,

  rocks from the bottom rose forming a bridge. He crossed over

  and approached the bogies, and as he did, they broke apart and

  hid throughout the garden. Grim silver eyes peaked at him

  through the leaves.

  Rising high into the sky was a Titan tree. Its gnarled branches

  festooned out across the top of the garden flaunting an interwo-

  ven chain of brightly colored leaves rustling in the wind. Its roots were a massive system of interlocking tubes that twined out and

  connected with every tree and plant in the garden. Wrapped

  around the base of the Titan where decorative doors of varied

  size; some large, some smal , some wide, and others narrow. The

  doors shuffled as Caboose roamed by them, reshaping once past.

  There was a door for the size of any creature or beast that wanted to enter.

  Caboose toured around the girth of the titan, which stretched

  the length of ten large thunder beast head to tail, looking for a 52

  THE REDMADAFA

  door his size. Above him, and without him noticing, the bark

  peeled, murmuring and laughing, silently heckling Caboose.

  He stopped and reached for a knob.

  A face formed on the knob and sighed, “Too smal .”

  Startled, he snatched his hand back and stared at the knob. He

  tried another one, “To big” it said. He stopped in front of another one and grabbed the knob. It twisted in his hand and opened.

  Caboose entered cautiously observing his surroundings and

  footsteps—the door closed on his tail. Riddles and rhymes etched into the wal s and stretched higher than he could read. Stacks

  of books lined the ledge and shelves: Fairytales, Dream Maker, Magic Potions, Disguises, Amusement Games, Tricks and Treats, False Religions, and Thunder Beast Deception, were just a few.

  Caboose meandered over and opened a bronze door that

  revealed a small closet. Hanging on three pegs was a black cloak sparkling of silver, a suit of gold armor, and some other funny

  looking red garment with a big black belt. In the middle of the

  room, stood a black stone chiseled by a skilled mason. On top of the stone was a slot the same size of the silver coins. Engraved beside the hole was a message. It read:

  The wisdom of man is within your hand. Deposit the dross and betray the cross.

  Caboose walked over and read the message. “Betray the

  cross…what does that mean?” he said to himself with a weird

  look on his face. “Oh wel , it doesn’t matter. When I deposit the coins, it will all be mine.”

  Caboose counted each coin as he put them in, “One, two,

  three...twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.”

  Click!

  53

  I N T E R L U D E

  Battle For The Fiery

  Stones

  You are a man not a god!

  3500 years earlier:

  THE HOLY MOUNT

  Mageddon stood atop the fiery stones; his beastly eyes fix-

  ated in a red pulsating trance, obsessed with her every

  move. “Master,” Legion whispered, “Crimson moon, black sun;

  it’
s an omen. Victory is within your grasp. The scroll foretel s a woman will give birth to a son who will rule the nations with

  an iron scepter. If we move now and kill the child, fear will run 54

  THE REDMADAFA

  rampant throughout the southern forces and you will possess the

  power to overthrow His Majesty.”

  Mageddon, the Supreme Commander of His Majesty’s

  Imperial Guard, brushed his hand across the seer portal and

  strutted across the room. He stared into the stones until a grim smile swept across his face.

  “His Majesty; yes, his deception has failed. Alert the gener-

  als and await my command. We must strike before the southern

  army arrives. There can be no mistakes, no retreats.”

  He turned and peered across the stones straight into Legion’s

  eyes. “We cannot fail. I don’t care if we have to sacrifice them al .

  We must kill her and the child.”

  Legion, fearing Mageddon’s wrath replied, “Yes, my master.

  Everything is ready, everyone’s in place.”

  Mageddon took to the sky, and with his guards flying in for-

  mation close behind, he flew over the battlefield surveying its

  final preparations. The battlefield, which was once filled with lush gardens and vibrant courtyards, had been transformed into a

  maze of trenches with a barricade of jagged crystal beams, encircling the outer perimeter. Mageddon landed on top of the south

  tower. He drew a deep breath before addressing his forces.

  “This is the moment we have all been waiting for. Stay here

  and keep control of the Holy Mount and the fiery stones. Once I

  kill the child we will possess the power to overthrow His Majesty.

  Then, together we will rush the throne room and kill His Majesty.”

  His army raised their swords and shields, and roared in

  unison.

  Mageddon closed his eyes, raised his arms, and summoned

  the power of the stones. Fire rushed up the tower exploding in

  a beam of fire, high into the galaxy. He spread his wings and

  shouted, “I will rule the universe as the god I was created to be!”

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  Dr. Gary Warren Foshee

  MOUNT ZION

  Miaphas marched through the door. He approached His Majesty’s

  throne and bowed low in reference, his heart beating zealously

  within. “Your Majesty, the reports are true. He has proclaimed

  himself a god and the entire northern army is worshipping him.”

  “Blasphemy!” jolted His Majesty. “A god he is not; there is

  no wisdom in a fool.” His Majesty rose from his seat and walked

  down the steps placing his hand on Miaphas’ shoulder.

  Miaphas rose, but remained silent. He candidly took note of

  the others in the room as His Majesty glided by.

  “Pride has filled his heart and fol y has replaced the wisdom

  I anointed him with,” said His Majesty.

  Miaphas handed him a small rolled parchment with writ-

  ing on both sides and sealed with seven seals. “Your Majesty, he has been involved with dishonest trade and,” with hesitation in

  his voice, “He has desecrated the Holy Sanctuaries and the fiery stones.”

  “Then, it is true.” His Majesty took the scroll and opened

  the folds of his robe. Skin, unlike any substance in heaven or on earth, peeled back between his ribs opening a small hole; a flu-orescent light burst out of the opening, blinding all present. He placed the scroll inside his body and withdrew his hand. The hole closed as he released his grip on the long white robe.

  “Miaphas take charge of the Southern army and remove him

  from the Holy Mount. He can no longer be allowed to keep his

  place of authority.”

  An angel stepped out from behind a column; his body was

  covered with a labyrinth of smooth rocks of different shapes and colors. “Your Majesty, what about those who follow him?” he

  asked.

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  THE REDMADAFA

  With tears in his eyes, His Majesty walked back up the steps,

  sat in his seat and dropped his head. “Cast them to earth.”

  Celestial beings stretched as far as the eye could see. Light

  flashed throughout the galaxy as others reported from their posts all over the universe. Column after column formed in ranks and

  drew weapons from the armory. Others secured the outer perim-

  eters of Mount Zion, His Majesty’s throne, and raised the shields.

  Galamus arrived from the outer realm. He reported to

  Miaphas (who was organizing the army) and drawing up bat-

  tle plans. He stomped down the ancient hal ways and past the

  Fountain of Light. He cut through the gardens and around The

  Great Hal , which was filled with activity and crowded with

  angels. He ascended the spiral staircase of the East tower and past the guards posted outside Miaphas’ door.

  Inside, Miaphas sat quietly writing with a long, white quill

  pen. Atop the table stood a black oblong inkbottle and a red wick candle, sparkling bright. He laid the quill down, rolled up the

  parchment and grasped the candle in his left hand. He tilted the candle over the parchment allowing three drops of wax to pool

  on top of the outer edge; allowing the drops to cool for a few

  seconds, he pressed his signet ring into the wax sealing it with his mark—an Eagles Head.

  “Miaphas, the northern armies are intoxicated with his

  lies and have sworn allegiance to him,” said Galamus entering

  the room.

  Miaphas looked up from the table and handed the scroll to

  Frost, the angel of clime. “Where is he?” exclaimed Miaphas, calculating Mageddon’s next move.

  Galamus moved next to Frost and embraced her. They

  were old friends and had embarked on numerous adventures

  together.

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  Dr. Gary Warren Foshee

  “He and the Northern army are imbedded at the Holy Mount.

  Mageddon plans to attack her in the outer realm, the moment the

  child arrives; I fear he plans to kill her and the child.”

  He nodded at the scroll in Frost’s hand. She smiled and

  shrugged her shoulders enticing his curiosity.

  Miaphas walked over to a globe rotating above the floor in

  the middle of the room. Twelve crystal columns surrounded the

  atlas, which contained every planet and star in the universe. He paced inside studying the Holy Mount and its fortified positions.

  Locating his troops posted throughout the galaxies, he reached

  up with his finger and touched several spots. With each touch,

  the brightly colored light-bal s opened, allowing Miaphas to see the outposts and its regiments. He double-touched key outposts

  sending a burst of light racing out the window—the light carried orders to report immediately.

  He turned toward Galamus. “We don’t have much time. Take

  the first and fourth divisions with you and launch a frontal attack clearing the Holy Mount sweeping East. I will take the rest with me, then ambush Mageddon in the outer realm. Sound the alarm

  and assemble the forces; we must leave at once.”

  THE HOLY MOUNT

  Galamus and his forces scaled the cliffs from the West hoping to catch the Northern army off guard; they covered the cliffs like

  ivy, anticipating that Legion would be expecting an aerial assault.

  Galamus wanted to clear the Holy Mount before taking the battle

  to the heavily fortified positions below.

  Legion, Mageddon’s Imperial Command
er, stood on the

  Holy Mount looking into the clairvoyant portal.

  His face grimaced.

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  THE REDMADAFA

  He looked up and shouted to the guard on the Eastern wal .

  “The cliffs—are they clear?”

  The guard looked over the wal . He looked back up and

  shouted, “Al clear.”

  Legion cocked his head toward the Western wall and shouted,

  “Is all clear?”

  The guard walked over to the ledge and looked over. Before

  he could say a word, a sharp, double-edged sword pierced his

  chin and exited his helmet. His body toppled over the wall and

  out of sight as Legion drew his sword and raised it high and

  shouted, “It’s an ambush—attack!”

  The sky exploded as light ignited by thousands of celestial

  beings filled the sky.

  Hydro flew over the wal , cupped his hands, and slowly

  moved them apart. With a beam of water streaming hand-to-

  hand, he turned his palms toward Legion and pushed. A tidal

  wave rippled across the sky, soaking the fiery stones, covering the Holy Mount in a dense mist that crept down and hovered over

  the battlefield. The fog sent the Northern army into a frenzy, as Legion, drenched and disoriented, ran into the gardens on the

  upper courtyard into an arched alcove overlooking the battlefield.

  Galamus cleared the Southern wall and jumped into a trench.

  Several celestial guards jumped on top of him, pinning him to

  the ground. He kicked them off and slashed through the narrow

  gauntlet. He rounded the corner, slipped past several battles,

  and flew out of the trench and back onto the battlefield. Behind him, a large demonic figure with a silver shield engraved with

  the head of a serpent, jumped out of the trench. The beast had

  one large eye and five tails covered with serpent heads. Bronze

  greaves adorned its legs, tightly knit mesh protected its body and red armor covered the mesh.

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  Dr. Gary Warren Foshee

  An angel, whose body burned like an ember, spun around

  and threw a flaming yellow spear of fire through the air, right

  past the left ear of Galamus; it knocked the beast off its feet inches behind him.

  Galamus grabbed his ear and looked at his hand. “Hey, whose

  side are you on?” he exclaimed across the battlefield.

  The angel smiled and replied, “Yours. And you can thank

  me later.” He turned, raised his sword and struck several more

 

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