The Otherling

by Heather M. Walker

  "Your mother was not about to be talked down to, Annaleah. She was a gentle woman, but also proud. She looked right at this pompous woman, squared her shoulders and said, "I would rather sit alone in the light of my own truth, than to sit with a thousand others in the darkness of conformity." Do you know what that means?" Uncle John asked.

  Annaleah had looked at her uncle blankly, not really sure if she knew or not.

  "It means, my dear," he told her, stoking her hair softly, "that the world is full of people trying to be just like everyone else in order to fit in and be accepted. By doing this, they ignore what it is in themselves that makes them unique and special.” His eyes held a far off, sad look as he spoke. “Sometimes they try to erase themselves in order to be what society expects them to be. They do this so much, that that they lose themselves altogether and don't even know how to act without someone else telling them how.” He shook his head, and his glasses slid down his nose. “The world is full of carbon copies. Don't be one, Annaleah. Even if you have to struggle to remain who you are, it is the most precious gift that you can give yourself.” Pushing his glasses up to their rightful place on his face, he looked deeply at her. “If you fight to be true to yourself, one day, you will find out just how special you are. There is someone out there who will love you for who you are strong enough to be. Don't rob your future husband of the love of his life. This Tommy person is a fool. Don't let him rob you of the jewel that you are, the rare and precious person that no one else can be."

  A small whimper interrupted Annaleah's memory, and, at first she thought it might be something within her recollection. Coming out of her vision and opening her eyes, she saw that her hands and arms were glowing with white light. Looking further, she saw that her beloved uncle had stopped bleeding, and though still unconscious, was no longer in the clutches of death.

  Overjoyed, Annaleah moved her hands from where his wounds had been and softly placed her head on his chest. When she heard his heart beating steadily, she let out a breath she had not been aware she was holding.

  Gabriel’s eyes glistened with tears as they held her gaze with intensity. "You see Annaleah," he said from beside her, his voice soft and reverent, "Love is the strongest energy in the universe. It has the power to heal the most grievous wounds; the ability to fight death and rekindle life itself. Love can heal what nothing else can. It is with love, Annaleah, that we will win this war."

  Exhausted, but more thankful than she had ever been in her life, Annaleah held her hand out to Gabriel, with her head still upon her uncle's now healed chest.

  Gabriel smiled and took her hand.

  "We will win, Gabriel. Thanks to you, and thanks to Uncle John, I know that we can."

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Enter Michael

  “Things are going to start happening quickly now, Annaleah," Gabriel said softly. "The Dark Ones, as well as the ones who walk in the light, will be able to pick up on the energy you sent out to heal your uncle. The dreams of the war in Heaven that you have had all of your life will give you a good idea of what to expect. Though you may have believed that your part in this war would be to wield a sword and slay the enemy yourself, this will be far from your main goal. Should it come to that, we all want you to be able to defend yourself, and so you will be armed. However, your main purpose, sweet Annaleah, is to call the fallen to repent. You also have another very important mission, but for now, redemption is your main objective."

  Annaleah's brow creased, her heart full of worry. "How am I supposed to do that, Gabriel? Don't they already know that they can be saved? Why am I so important?"

  "I don't have the time to answer that question for you, I'm afraid. Uncle John is out of the woods, but still needs medical attention. I’ll take him to the hospital in my human form. You’ll have the divine protection of our brothers and sisters of the light, so I don't want you to feel alone. You will be protected. I’ll return once your uncle has been admitted."

  Once more standing to the full enormity of his height, Gabriel seemed to fill the entire room with light, wings and purity. From his luminous robes he withdrew a gilded trumpet, both simple and elegant. Placing it to his lips, he played one long, blaring note. The sound was somber and deep, reverberating through the room, through the walls, through every atom of Annaleah’s being. Her intuition told her that this was undoubtedly his calling to his angelic brothers and sisters that the war had begun.

  Annaleah's golden wings unfurled from her back, seeming to fill what space that Gabriel's wings did not occupy. She felt the electric arcs of light pulsate from beneath her skin, and with a quick glance she saw how her skin, like his, was alabaster and flawless. Her transformation from human to angel was complete.

  "I'm frightened," she confessed. "What if I fail? I haven’t trained. I should have let you teach me more, instead of being troubled by the mundane issues in my life."

  "Now is not the time for self-doubt," Gabriel said tenderly. "Your role was well thought out by the Goddess Herself. Your destiny is unfolding, sweet Otherling. It's okay to be afraid; it will keep you on your toes." He began to transform back into his human form as he spoke. His wings folded against his back, his hair growing shorter as his body seemed to change effortlessly back into her best friend.

  Now in human form, Seth turned to the window and looked out expectantly. The rain had stopped. The moon and stars had reclaimed their place and shared their light as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

  "The Light Ones are coming, but so are the ones of Darkness. Michael will give you a sword, but I don't think you will have to use it."

  A sword, she thought, panic prickling in her heart? She had never held a sword in her life, how was she supposed to defend herself with one? What if the demons took it from her and used it on her? Going further into her fear, Annaleah tried to imagine what the demons she was about to fight would look like. She had seen the Jorogumo and the demon that had attacked Uncle John, but all her other knowledge of her enemy had been gleaned from books. She felt woefully underprepared. What would happen if she was unable to defend herself? What if she lost a loved one in battle?

  Gabriel had told her there was no time for self-doubt, but it was hard to heed these words. With great effort, she swallowed as many of her concerns as she could, knowing that it was time to fulfill her destiny. With a deep sigh, she smiled, trying to build as much courage as she could.

  She watched as Seth bent down and effortlessly lifted Uncle John into his arms. To see him do so was a bit strange to Annaleah, even knowing he was an angel in human form. Seth's body simply did not look as if it had the strength to lift Uncle John with such ease.

  Reaching the doorway, Seth turned before leaving to look at her. "Be strong, and know that I believe in you." He flashed her a smile before carrying Uncle John out the door.

  Now alone in the room, Annaleah stood, her heart thundering. From beside the window she saw a small sphere of deep indigo light flicker into existence and begin to expand. The beautiful light undulated and began to form the shape of a large man with wings even larger than her own. The light grew denser until a glorious angel stood before her, his light so bright that it was hard to make out any of his features. His energy was powerful, and the light was so intense that everything in the room took on an indigo tone. Annaleah, feeling this angel's importance and energy signature, bowed her head and knelt before him in reverence.

  "Do not kneel before me, Annaleah." The voice was melodic and deeply masculine. Though he spoke plainly, his voice was so beautiful that it sounded to Annaleah as if he were singing. "All adoration and acclaim should be saved for the Creator Herself. Rise and face me as your equal."

  Annaleah looked up and saw that the angel had lessened the brilliance of his light, so as not to bewilder her with his presence. His long wavy hair was a deep shade that reminded her of the midnight sky, as were his eyes. Though most of the angels Annaleah had seen had delicate elven or pixie like features, the angel before her was dif
ferent. He looked as if he were built for war, with defined musculature and pronounced masculinity. His jawline was square, his arms bulged as if he had been weight-lifting for eternity. He smiled at her benevolently, as she took in his physique.

  "I am the archangel Michael. It is my pleasure to meet you, Annaleah." He held out his large hand to her in a most human gesture of meeting. With quiet awe, Annaleah took his hand and shook it, looking into his deep, beautiful eyes.

  "I am honored to meet you, Michael. I only wish it were under better circumstances," Annaleah said, her voice only a little louder than a whisper. She watched as one corner of his mouth curled up into a smile.

  "Likewise. Though this is our first formal meeting, I have been with you and your uncle for quite some time now. We have no time to reminisce, however. There is a portal opened, and the Dark Ones are using it to cross over to your world. For as long as humanity has walked the Earth, there have been dark entities living among you that have been cursed and Hellbound. They use these portals as ways to evade their prison and walk on the Earth. Ever since the Jorogumo was able to find you in your Dream Time, she has been hard at work expanding on the portal.

  "I have been instructed to give you a weapon. Though you have not been taught how to use it, should the need arise you will find, intrinsically, the knowledge already there. Do not fear the sword, but respect it. We will be guarding you so that you can do that which you must do."

  He held out his arms to each side, and a light began to glow in each. In his left hand the light became a long, slim bladed sword, and in his right, a simple belt and sheath. He handed these to Annaleah, who somehow knew exactly how to put the belted sheath around her and place her sword within it. After she had done so, she looked again at Michael, confusion in her golden eyes.

  "Come to me and I will take you at once to the clearing in the woods. I can feel that they are already breaking through from there. It was once a sacred place, but now I fear, because of them, it has been profaned."

  Michael opened his tremendous wings, beckoning Annaleah to him. Annaleah hesitated, still overwhelmed by meeting one of the most well-known angels of all time. He looked at her, compassion in his dark eyes.

  "Do not underestimate yourself. I know it has only been a short time that you have been aware of who and what you are, but your Holiness is written in your DNA. Your spirit is that of an angel, one of us. Though there are many races and classes of angels, we are all holy and divine creatures. You were made for this, Annaleah. If anything, it is I who should be in awe of you. Now please, come. We must go."

  Annaleah took in what he had said and nodded wordlessly before crossing the short distance between them and pressing herself against him. He embraced her gently, enfolding her in his arms, and then encircling her in his beautiful wings. He bent down and whispered in her ear.

  "Now hold onto me tightly. This may be disconcerting for you. We are going to teleport ourselves there. Think of it like traveling in Dreamtime; often there is no recollection of how you got from one place to another, but suddenly, you find yourself there." Michael paused for a moment to let Annaleah take in what he had said.

  "Are you ready?"

  "I think so." As soon as she said this, Annaleah felt an intense force pulling at her, as if every atom of her being were being vacuumed and pulled. Thankfully, it only lasted a moment before she found herself on the path that led to the clearing.

  There in the clearing, was where she thought Hell itself must be.

  The forces of Heaven and the Hordes of Hell were already at war.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The War

  Michael was right; the place no longer resembled anything remotely holy. Many of the trees had been broken in half, some scorched, others uprooted and tossed aside to make room for battle. Though the path to the clearing still existed, the clearing itself was now a bald patch of wounded earth, expanding in every direction. The red clay, so famous in Georgia, was now red with spilled blood, from both those who fought for the light and those who fought against it. Feathers littered the ground and floated in the air, tinged with blood or half on fire. Reptilian scales glittered like confetti falling from the sky, catching what light there was from the stars as they fell to the earth below.

  And then there were the creatures that fought on the torn and bloodied earth. Though the Light Ones were Holy, looking at them as they engaged in war was fearsome. The expressions they wore showed the intended annihilation of their enemies. Their lips, which normally smiled with love, were drawn tight over teeth that flashed like the blades they wielded. Indigo eyes were wide and wild as they concentrated on the death of the Dark Ones. Bloodied wounds marred the beauty of most of them, their great, feathered wings torn or even broken; their snow white flesh split and weeping blood. Some spoke in their ancient angelic tongue, words which sounded forbidden to the ears of those not indoctrinated. The sound of blades hitting flesh, bone and metal was punctuated by screams and battle cries.

  The Dark Ones varied tremendously in their forms, but were all horrific to look upon. Most of them had wings that Annaleah thought must have once been beautiful like the angels of light, but were now transformed as a mark of their transgression against the Creator. Some had wings filled with scales and others had wings like leather. All of them had faces filled with hatred, their eyes flashing with infernal fury. Annaleah saw most had some type of horns as well; some twisted and curled, others long and straight. They made bestial sounds as they fought the angels of Light, screams and howls the likes of which she had never heard, even in her dreams. A few of the larger demons seemed to shift their features as a battle tactic, meant to terrify and confuse their opponent. She watched as one tore at the earth with its clawed feet, kicking the dirt backwards as if it were a bull about to charge.

  The air smelled of ozone, torn earth, scorched skin and the metallic tang of blood. It held the undercurrent of fear and tensions long kept, so electric that it seemed to pulse through Annaleah. The scent of smoldering sulpher crawled through these odors, slithering through them as though the malodor itself had violent intentions.

  More Holy ones arrived from the sky, some falling haphazardly as they engaged in a struggle with the beings that had once been their brothers and sisters. From below, in the ravaged soil, still more demons emerged, dirt smeared and crazed, thirsty for blood. Infernal fire bathed them as they broke free of their prison, climbing over one another in their lust for war. Some even turned on each other as they struggled toward the solid ground above.

  All of these beings filled Annaleah with terror so intense, so raw, that for a moment, she contemplated running. The moment passed quickly when she saw Marchosias engaged in battle with a demon that looked as if it were winning. It held one of Marchosias' ebony wings out to her side, intent on breaking it off of her body. Annaleah, finding her courage, was about to run into the heart of the battle to defend the fallen angel that had become her friend.

  "No," Michael said into her mind, knowing that the sounds of screaming and war cries were too loud to be heard any other way. "You are far too important to be running into the midst of this war! Marchosias knows what she is doing, let her fight."

  Frustrated, Annaleah turned to look Michael in the eye, speaking to him in her thoughts. "Then why am I here? What is the point of the sword and even bringing me to this place if I am not to fight? I can't just stand by and let her get slain by that terrible creature!"

  Suddenly, the fighting shifted. Heads of both the Dark Ones and those of the Light turned to look at Annaleah, as if they had heard her speak aloud. She watched as one of the angels of Light used this distraction to land a killing blow to a demon that resembled a pig and human splicing experiment gone horribly wrong. With one swift blow, its bloody head went rolling across the scarred ground.

  Several of the Dark Ones, enraged, charged at Annaleah, one of them running at her on all fours. She raised her sword and prepared herself for their descent upon her. Gracefully dodgi
ng one wolfish demon, Annaleah heard its yelp of agony as Michael swiftly ended its life behind her.

  As another abomination sped towards her, with one fluid move, she buried her sword to the hilt in its chest. She locked her eyes with the creature's sickly yellow ones before pulling her weapon free of its scarred, mottled chest.

  The next Dark One was soon upon her, and this one had no weapon. Its mouth was an open gash filled with long, sharp teeth that curved backwards towards its throat. The orange eyes were wide set and large, like pools of vile filth lit with loathing for anything with a modicum of decency in its soul. The rotting skin it wore did not seem to be its own, as if it had been carved off of a corpse and hung loosely over its bones. It was ragged and slashed in many places with dried blood clotted in filthy blotches. The battle cry it emitted as it charged at Annaleah sounded like both the scream of a woman being tortured and a deep, animalistic guttural growl.

  Had Annaleah not been emboldened by the adrenaline of her kill, the sound would have turned her blood to ice within her veins. As the demon ran at her, its mouth opened obscenely wide. It held one of its elongated and disjointed arms out to the side, the fingers of the large, meaty hand spread out to display long, razor sharp claws.

  Annaleah stood her ground, surprised by the strength of her resolve. Not knowing what she would do until the moment of the struggle was upon her, she found the strength to have faith in the Creator. It was immediate and absolute, and filled her like a prayer. As the demon hurled itself through the air at her, she whispered three simple words to the Creator. "I trust you."