Forgiven

by Kelly Hagen

  She stood and stretched out her legs. A prayer team was needed. Phone calls were made to her mom, in-laws, her best friend Miranda, as well as to other close friends in the church. And finally to the Pastor. Katelyn knew the power of prayer. She knew prayers, and praise helped increase the power and strength of the Warriors.

  “She’s made the calls for prayer. I’m going to check in with the Commander to see what our next step will be. I don’t know how long we’ll be able to wait. There’s a threat in the air. One much stronger than what was over Katelyn. I’m calling a meeting.”

  Nolan nodded and left his post. He followed Necklim to the back yard. Necklim waved his sword, a bright, faint blue light encircled his head, inching its way up through the atmosphere until it found its home in the clouds.

  It wasn’t long before the other Warriors joined him. “Katelyn has made the calls. The prayer team has been assembled. I’m going to check in with the Commander. Be on your guard. Melti will soon arrive, I’m sure.”

  Necklim raised his sword, and it met with the tips of his fellow angels, “For the Worthy!”

  Ackmen stood by Celeste’s window, looking out at the trees that filled the Holcomb's back yard, while he waited impatiently for Deception to finish his orders. Hidden deep within the covering of those trees were the Warriors, he was sure of it. He chipped away at the paint on the window sill and watched for any sudden movements. “They’re toying with us,” he finally said. He turned towards Deception, “You know they are. Sick beings they are. They enjoy seeing us sweat.”

  A glowing light in the midst of the trees caused Ackmen to focus his attention back from where it had come. Seconds later the small bright light shot up through the sky. It’s brilliance and size alone told of its strength. It meant two things. There were more than three or four Warrior angels, and a prayer team had been formed. “Great. Melti is going to love this. Are you almost done you wretched spirit? We have to get back to Melti.”

  “A few more minutes,” came Deception’s response.

  The light disappeared. Ackmen waited by the window in hopes of seeing who was with Necklim. Though it didn’t matter much. The one Warrior he feared the most had been placed in the Holcomb’s home. The coming battle left a weak spot in his in core. Necklim’s promise...would it ring true?

  Chapter 14

  Steven Steel, the Pastor of Green Hill Christian Church for the past seventeen years, was a middle-aged man, married, with no children of his own. He and Lucinda, his wife of twenty years, lived contently in the small house on the church's property. Pastor Steven enjoyed the luxury of being so close to what he lovingly referred to as his “second home”.

  Pastor Steven had been at Green Hill Christian, long enough to know when something was amiss in the spiritual life of a member of his small congregation. And something was definitely amiss. The particular situation, and with whom, had up to this point, not been determined. Weeks had passed, leaving the strange feeling that called for aggressive prayer, unclaimed. No prayer requests, no matter how small or large, had eased his troubled spirit.

  Not until today.

  Today, thanks to a phone call from Katelyn, it had all come together, and finally made sense. Today the unrest inside had mixed and mingled with a little bit hope, and a little bit of understanding.

  An attack against Katelyn's daughter was underway.

  Once the conversation ended, Pastor Steven did what he knew how to do best.

  He prayed.

  Not regular, everyday prayers. No. These prayers were mighty for bringing down strongholds and tearing apart wicked schemes of his Creator's enemy. These prayers left demons shaking in their lizard-like skin. His voice wasn't loud, and it didn't need to be, for it was full of authority. An authority that he wasn't afraid to let himself step into, in the name of his Savior.

  Spiritual warfare was nothing to mess around with; this the Pastor knew all too well. Since he knew, he had to be ready and aware on all fronts. His prayers not only flooded the gates of Heaven, but they, more often than not, also placed a target on his back.

  Lucinda had only seen her husband not make it to the table on a handful of occasions. The man enjoyed his food. Whatever was keeping him, she knew it was of importance. She wondered if it had anything to do with his unrest as of late. If it did, she needed to be in prayer as well. Her husband was a strong man of faith. He didn't back away from anything just because it was difficult. That brought attention to himself at times. She knelt next to the table. The food would wait; she needed to pray.

  Ezera, the Warrior flew concealed through the sky. His destination lit up before him like a beacon of light, hope, and power. He landed effortlessly on the roof of Pastor Steven Steel's small home and unfolded the massive wings attached to his body. The feathers danced to the rhythm of the light spring breeze as they lay covering the house in a protective shield. A shield no eye, human or demon could see or penetrate.

  Ezera's prayers and praises mixed with the ones breaking through from below. A surge of heated power ran through him, like his very veins were being consumed by a molten liquid, the ever-increasing warmth growing brighter and brighter until it cast a heavenly glow and overtook the shadowy dusk that had fallen on the small Kentucky town.

  Pastor Steven finally felt a bit of peace in his spirit. He had no idea how long he'd prayed, but his stomach's rumbling told him it was past dinner time. He vaguely remembered hearing the soft chime ring out, announcing that the food was on the table, but couldn't remember how long ago that had been. This prayer battle had left him peaceful yet drained and hungry. He finished up with an amen, before letting his nose lead him to the wonderful smells from the kitchen. Cold food or not, his body needed some fuel.

  "I received a phone call from Katelyn Holcomb," he said as he stepped into the kitchen, unaware that his wife was lost deep in prayer. A smile formed on his lips as he took in the sight of her, head bowed and resting on interlaced fingers. After a few moments, her gaze met his.

  "Sorry, dear, didn't realize you were praying."

  "No worries." She smiled. "Hand me your plate, and I'll heat it up for you."

  Pastor Steve handed the plate in his wife's direction. “Seems Celeste is going through a hard time right now. Katelyn believes she is under attack. From the few things she told me, I have to say I agree. She has asked for our prayers."

  "Oh my. Of course." Lucinda answered as if there wasn't any other option. For her, for them, there wasn't. The dark part of spiritual realm, very much real, weaved and worked throughout the world and the people in it for the destruction of all things good. From the smallest seed of doubt to the biggest, the Enemy showed his power. His power, though, was nothing compared to the Creator's. In that knowledge is where the Steel’s strength, peace, and power dwelt.

  Ezera landed on the plush carpet in the Steel’s living-room. The Guardians over the home joined him. With the first round of prayers complete, he was able to fill the Guardians in on the situation.

  "If you notice anything, and I mean anything out of the ordinary, send word to Necklim. We don’t know how big this battle will turn out to be, but you can rest assured “small” is far from it."

  He met the Guardians' nod with one of his own.

  "I'll return soon. Be watchful."

  Chapter 15

  Necklim returned to the Holcomb household, twenty more Warriors with him. The days and nights ahead would demand their strength. The Commander said as much.

  Necklim landed, drew his sword and twirled it several times in a circular motion above his head. Its light sliced the darkness, signaling for an assembly.

  It wasn’t long before the other Warriors arrived, not surprised by the number returned with their leader. Each one could feel the evil. It snaked through the air like a venomous snake waiting to sink its teeth into an unexpected victim.

  Necklim repeated word for word from the Commander. This battle was going to be bigger than the one nineteen years ago. More significant than the
Warriors had fought in quite some time. More Warriors, in fact, were on their way at that very moment. More, still on stand by.

  Necklim was just about to give orders when the remaining thirty Warriors joined the gathering.

  It didn’t take long for the meeting to conclude — each Warrior, stone-faced and ready. Fifty plus glowing white swords met the tip of one another. “For the Worthy!” they shouted.

  Warriors dispatched soon after, carried away by wings of white overlapped by a radiant blue. The contrast was breathtaking against the ebony sky. Armor of different colors covered their bodies. All of which housed a sword and shield.

  They each went to their post or territory. Guardians in those places were informed. People were covered. Warriors were ready.

  Melti and Ackmen, along with a couple of other demons, rode the wind of the night sky, rehearsing plans and attacks. All wrapped up in the joyousness of the occasion, they sought to outdo one another’s nasty cackles. When something in the distance caught the bulging red eyes of Melti, his leathery wings, once spread out, now tucked halfway behind his upright body. Could it be? No, it had to be a deception. A decoy. A lie. The light, white, strong, fierce, full, meant more than several Warriors.

  “Ackmen!” Oblivious to his master's sudden stop, he turned to face him. “How many Warriors did you say were here?”

  “I didn’t, Melti. I said by the stream of light there had to be no more than four or five.”

  “Look!” Melti hissed.

  Ackmen turned in the direction of his master’s pointy finger. “Oh, no.”

  “Was the stream of light that bright?”

  “No, my lord. Nor was it that big.”

  Ackmen felt sick. Was that even possible for a demon? It had to be. Dry heaves had him doubled over and his insides all twisted up in knots.

  This was not good. More reinforcements had arrived since this afternoon. A lot more. “Curse you, Necklim.”

  Ackmen wanted nothing more than for this fight to be over. To what gain was this family, this girl? Surely there was someone else? Some other Burnsten, not covered and guarded by the hosts of Heaven? One they could easily have their way with; one that could as sufficiently turn the tables?

  If only.

  Asking would only show weakness that he couldn’t afford to show. Not now. Not when the grip on Celeste’s life was a couple of days away. Melti would do more than torture him, no doubt. He would kill him.

  This family was not worth his life. Though he had to wonder if it would be lost soon anyway. Which sword would he rather die from, his master’s, or his enemy?

  Ackmen's mind was made up. His choice made. “I may go down, but I’ll go down fighting,” he whispered.

  A thump sent him flip-flopping through the air. He regained his composure and slowly drifted back to Melti. “What was that for?” Anger laced his words.

  No answer came — only a stare of hate and malice.

  “I can’t believe you let this happen again!” Melti refrained from screaming. Attention, in their direction, was not something he’d wanted to confront tonight. “We’ll go on as planned. Doubt, Deception to Celeste’s house. Ackmen, you’re with me.”

  Melti flew this way and that through the tops of the trees, keeping his focus on the task at hand as much as possible. Though interrupted at times by the nagging reminder of the Warriors strength, their number brought a twinge, brief as it was, to his core. It rested there, not fully letting him enjoy the destruction the next couple nights held.

  The enemy always seemed one step ahead. One more person covered, guarded.

  Prayers.

  They had to be stopped. Who was doing it? Where was it coming from? Melti thought of a new plan, but they’d have to leave Daren’s early.

  He sank unknowingly through the boy's roof, and slowly drifted down into his room. Daren lay on his stomach, book – their book – in front of him. Ackmen joined Melti; their bony fingers carried their enticing words from their evil minds to Daren's ears. “She’s ready. If not, we’ll force her. Who waits until they're married anymore? Intimacy is not a treasure. It is a human desire, one that needs to be fulfilled. She will agree, or we’ll make her agree.”

  Several hours passed as these insinuations, ideas, played on repeat, over and over again. Taking root in Daren’s heart.

  A Warrior stood outside Daren’s house. The vile filth that Melti filled the young mind with left him sadden and disgusted. He took a step forward, only to be blocked by the powers of the enemy that surrounded the boy’s home. Though he couldn’t break through them, it didn’t stop him from being able to hear the evil intentions the hideous creatures were spewing out. He’d take this information back to Necklim. But for now, he’d stand and pray.

  A grotesque face peered down at him from the upstairs window. Meant for intimidation, he was sure, though it failed. It only increased the Warrior’s prayer, his praise, his determination. Losing a soul, any soul, to the enemy’s side was not on the agenda.

  The Warrior unfolded his wings. Their massive size spanned the entire front of the house. His body, prepared, donned in full battle array, was ready for anything tonight. “Ever Ready,” he whispered as he peered back into the face of Melti.

  Chapter 16

  Not being able to stay stationed in Celeste’s room didn’t settle well with her Warrior, Nolan. Sure he could go in from time to time, but it wasn’t enough. Not to his liking. His whispers, nudges, had to be done quickly and with a grand procession.

  Nolan carefully positioned his hand over Celeste. A glowing light, like a controlled lighting bolt, surged and escaped from his large palm. It flickered as it closed the distance between them. A small amount of faith still resided inside his charge. As long as that part was there, no matter how far it had been buried, hope remained. It was a place he could reach. And that he did, with all his might.

  The flicker stayed a steady stream, carrying with it peace, love, and truth. All the emotions needed to reach the parts Celeste had hidden away. All the pieces she feared were gone.

  They weren’t.

  The flicker, steady as it was, sent jolts from his form to hers. To the human eyes, it would look like magic. A bolt full of power. Though this power would bring with it no damage, only healing.

  Celeste inwardly fought off the acceptance of the truth Nolan poured into her. He wouldn’t give up. That wasn’t an option. She was his charge, and he took his stance, his oath, her very life, seriously.

  His time was coming to an end. The repulsive essence of the enemy had gotten stronger. They were drawing near. Soon he’d have to leave and stand outside her door. His words, nudges, would have to fight their way through the evil that would blanket her. “Celeste,” he whispered.

  Celeste stopped reading the book on her lap and looked up. Nothing. Though she could have sworn she heard the faintest whisper of her name.

  “Hello? Who’s there?” she questioned the darkness.

  How silly. Or was it. This hadn’t been the first time a strange, yet warm, almost protective feeling had come over her.

  She turned her attention back to the book and ignored the sensation that she wasn’t alone. What she couldn’t ignore was the great comfort that began to course through her body, slowly. Peace, love, all the things she wished she had, ignited, like a tiny flame looking for anything to consume so it could grow. It held her still. Frozen. Longing. Waiting. Wondering. Though hidden deep within, hope had remained, clouded by ridiculous lies. By whispers of doubt.

  So many things had changed. Time had passed, unrelenting in its pursuit to an end, to claim the weak. Claim the distorted, the wicked. She was one of those now. Maybe not truly wicked, but no doubt weak. She knew. Daren knew. Soon her parents would know it too. Would know what a failure their precious daughter was.

  There it was again — that internal struggle. Back and forth, it went. Good, bad. Happy replaced the sad. Light snuffed out by dark. It was real. And it drove her beyond crazy sometimes. The light had
its way for now — the goodness. A sliver of joy burst through. A smile. True. Real. That hadn’t happened very much over the last few weeks.

  It was strange to feel that again. As small as it was. How hard had she become? How distant from her previous self.

  She closed the book, determined to enjoy this awareness. Enjoy the faint feeling before it found the bruised, broken, and bitter heart that was now her and fluttered off to some other worthy soul.

  In the pits of despair, this was where she lived now. In the agony of her less than brilliant choices. There was only one to blame. She’d take it. Stand boldly for the punishment of her decisions. What else could she do?

  A chill pushed out the warmth. Celeste knew it would. It always did.

  Doubt and Deception wormed their way through the Warriors and Guardians that were about the Holcomb's home. Being in such company, and not on their territory, weakened them. They sought the refuge that was rightly theirs in the small room down the hall.

  They slid through the door, caught off guard by the tall, muscular Warrior. “Flee from here, you disgusting heavenly host!” Deception hissed. A vile stench seeped from him towards Nolan.

  A sword, lit up with power, put an end to any further advances from the demons. Deception and Doubt scrambled to either side of the room, leaving plenty of space for Nolan to pass by. A fight against him would only end their demise.

  Doubt turned to Deception, “What was he doing in here?”