by Wendy Owens
There were stacks of flapjacks with butter pooling on the top and drips running down the side. Another plate was overflowing with twisted cinnamon buns that were smothered with homemade icing so thick the top of the buns were barely visible. Crisp bacon, brown sausage links and patties, and ham slices were artistically spiraled on another platter. Scrambled eggs, every fruit you can imagine, biscuits, and gravy so creamy and smooth that Gabe mistook it for buttermilk were laid out in front of him.
The table never seemed to end. Gabe couldn’t decide where to begin.
“Don’t worry,” Michael said patting him on the back. “You can always get seconds.”
The thing that pleased him the most was that it wasn’t another morning of burnt toast and powdered eggs served at the Home for Wayward Boys. Gabe began to pile his plate as high as he could, catching a sausage link in his hand as it rolled from atop his mounded plate. Once he found a seat at one of the wooden tables and benches, he didn’t stop eating until he thought he might burst.
After his amazing meal earlier that day, Gabe was given a tour of the grounds by a young boy named Rufus who he guessed couldn’t be any older than twelve.
As they walked, Gabe began to play back the conversations he and Michael had shared. He had many more questions, but Michael had been called away on important business. He had assured Gabe there would be plenty of time for more questions after he returned.
Gabe became uncomfortable when he realized that Rufus was continuously staring at him and stumbling over his words each time he spoke. It didn’t take long for him to realize the boy had some misplaced hero worship. After only a few stops on the tour, Gabe feigned a headache and asked to be escorted back to his room.
Rufus had been all too willing to accommodate him and practically tripped over his feet guiding him back to his chambers. Once there, he offered to get Gabe anything he needed, perhaps a pain reliever or a healer. Surprised at the notion of a healer coming to cure a headache, Gabe shook his head and explained to Rufus he just needed to lie down.
Gabe began to close the door with Rufus still yammering on the other side. Guiding it closed slowly, trying not to be rude, the boy seemed to ramble incessantly. At last, the boy paused to catch his breath. Gabe seized the moment to say a quick thank you and goodnight, pushing the door closed completely.
After he was alone, he plopped down into one of the high back chairs near the fireplace. His thoughts had just begun to wander when he noticed on the side table the book he had been studying earlier with Michael.
On top of the book was a paper, a short note scribbled on it:
Gabe,
Please feel free to study further. Hopefully, it will help you answer any questions you may have. We’ll talk soon.
-Michael
Gabe felt excitement swell up inside him as he tore open the book and thumbed through the thin pages. He poured over all the details it contained for hours, amazed at how ideas in the book differed from what he had always thought.
Growing up, Gabe believed Hell was a place where evil souls went; if it were even real at all. He had assumed demons were what people who went to Hell transformed into. This book explained a different reality.
He devoured the book, absorbing facts such as that demons were not lost souls. He learned that demons were merely fallen angels that had followed Satan in the great war of Heaven. The book laid the story out in epic fashion. Gabe was intoxicated by its images.
As he read on, he learned of how angered God had become over the treachery of Lucifer, the angel he had shown the most favor. He had cast Lucifer out of heaven for the betrayal, never to return.
Lucifer, completely enraged by the manner in which he was punished, directed his hatred at mankind. He blamed them for his choice to go against God in the first place. Lucifer hated how God lavished men with the gifts of the earth. He was determined to destroy them, convinced that if he could make mankind suffer like he had, it would bring God to his knees.
God, being omnipotent, was fully aware of Lucifer’s plans. Though Lucifer knew this, he considered God to be arrogant and he believed a war with mankind would show God the error of his ways. The odd thing was, both Lucifer and God loved one another but Lucifer was so blinded by his rage, all he could think about was revenge. Lucifer was confident he would eventually bring Heaven crumbling down.
Gabe read on, impressed by the information gathered in the book. The pages were filled with the rankings of Satan’s armies, and descriptions of the creatures of Hell that had been discovered throughout the years like trolls and goblins. Monster after monster of folklore was explained in this one book.
He feverishly studied the content, part of him astonished that his logical mind was accepting of the information. He thought about all the fairytales his mother had told him as a small child and wondered if the creatures in those books had been, in fact, based on demons.
The minions of Satan as well as his top leaders, the princes of Hell, had allowed their loyalty to Lucifer to fill them with a dark and putrid hate. As Gabe read about the princes, each one seemed more terrifying than the last. He caught himself actually shivering. They preyed on the weakness of men, seeking to bring them misery and pain.
Gabe stood and walked over to the fire, placing another log onto the dulling embers. He watched as the flames slowly engulfed the log and placed another one on top, careful not to smother the fire.
He glanced at the small but ornate clock just above his head on the mantel and realized he had missed dinner. After his sizable breakfast feast that morning, Gabe wasn’t surprised that he was just now feeling the pains of hunger in his stomach. He was surprised that Uri had allowed him to completely miss the meal.
Gabe's thoughts shifted to Michael and he began to wonder exactly what important business had drawn him away. He decided the man should have been back by now and decided to make his way to his office and apologize for missing dinner.
He placed the book back on the table, not yet ready to part with it. Stepping into the hall, hesitating for a moment, he stood, trying to decide if he should first go and grab a snack or go straight to see Michael. Eventually he decided on the latter.
At Michael’s door, Gabe saw a sliver of light peeking out and heard muffled voices from inside. He froze where he stood, unsure what to do. At last, curiosity overwhelmed him.
He tiptoed to the doors and peered inside. Much to his dismay, he saw the floor littered with bloody rags. His eyes scanned upward to a leg that was dangling over the back of Michael’s couch. It was covered in worn, dirty, tattered pants, spattered with blood.
Gabe watched through the crack, his concern for Michael growing by the minute. The room had at least a dozen people buzzing around it. The men swarmed the injured man who was on the couch near the fire. Gabe rose onto the tips of his toes in an effort to catch a glimpse of the victim, but had no luck.
He continued staring. Finally Michael came into view, he was not the injured man. With a very solemn look on his face, Michael knelt on the other side of the couch with all but his head disappearing.
“Anthony, tell us what happened?” Gabe heard Michael mutter.
A flash of light and movement in the corner caught Gabe’s eye. Looking for the source, he saw a mirror; in it was the injured man’s reflection. He was a younger man, Gabe thought he looked to be in his mid-twenties, but with the screwed up aging in this place, who knew. He had a weaker chin but that could have been due to the way he was slumped onto the couch. The man’s hair was sandy in color and looked coated in greasy sweat. Gabe wondered who he was. Was he also a guardian?
Gabe cringed as he caught sight of Anthony’s mangled hip and leg. The pants he wore were torn away and the exposed leg wrapped in bandages, deep red blood seeping through. He saw Michael was holding Anthony’s hand. There were bloody scratches trailing all the way up the poor injured man’s shoulder. Gabe felt his empty stomach twist at the sight of the injuries.
Anthony was staring into the fire and G
abe could see the terror of what the man had seen replaying in his eyes. “They know Michael,” Anthony repeated over and over again in a soft trembling voice. As he continued to repeat the words, his voice grew in volume until suddenly he began to shake violently. Michael grabbed his hand tighter, trying to steady him.
Michael asked, “What do you mean they know?”
Anthony suddenly quieted, sitting still for a moment. The entire room was hushed as they waited in anticipation.
“There were so many of them. I tried to get away, but they were everywhere. Michael, I tried to fight them but I ...” Anthony’s eyes grew larger as his story unfolded. He pulled Michael’s hand up to his chest. “I thought they were going to kill me, but they wanted me to live. They told me to come back and tell you that they know the chosen one is here and they’re coming for him.”
With that, all of the bystanders erupted in panicked tones. Gabe heard his name murmured repeatedly throughout the room.
“How can they know of the prophecy?” One of the men cried out.
“Do you think they know where we are?” another man asked, his voice cracking. Michael stood; he patted Anthony’s hand before releasing it. Then he began to pace. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just continually paced.
A moment later, Michael froze, and turning to face the small gathering of people, raised his hands. The room fell silent as he looked to the men who were waiting for his wise words. “Clearly they have found out about Gabe’s destiny somehow. It’s not important how. However, I don’t believe they know where the manor is. If they did, they would be upon us now. I think they released Anthony in an effort to track him or in hopes we would try and evacuate Gabe, giving them an opportunity to attack.”
A few of the men mumbled some words, agreeing with Michael. Another asked what they were going to do. A man closer to Gabe shouted that it wasn’t safe to keep Gabe on the grounds. Gabe listened, his head swirling with all of the information.
A day ago he was safe, miserable and unhappy, but safe. Now, horrors worse than he could have ever imagined wanted him dead.
“Quiet!” Michael bellowed raising his hand and again a hush fell over the room. Even in his fear, Gabe couldn’t help but be impressed by the respect Michael commanded. “The safest place for Gabe to be is among us. Who better to protect him?”
“My brothers,” Michael continued. “I’m not concerned about being discovered. We’re well hidden and I have faith in our clerics. What I do fear, however, is who I believe is leading the charge. The Oracle asked to speak with me earlier. I have spent some time with her today, the news is not good.”
“Tell us Michael, what did she say?” a silver-haired man in the corner requested respectfully.
“Yes, Michael, tell us,” a younger man across from him parroted.
Michael’s face grew quite grim and in a somber voice he said, “It’s Mammon.” Those two words caused the room to erupt into commotion.
Gabe thought back to the book he had been reading earlier. The name was familiar, but Gabe could not place it. He wished now he had brought the book with him so he could look up this villain who had a man as great as Michael concerned.
“I know, I know,” Michael said raising his hands again. “Please, everyone calm down. I know it’s frightening, but this is no time to panic. Mammon’s minions are about a two day’s hike from the manor, but even with their proximity there is no indication they have been able to penetrate the incantations.”
Gabe watched the men as Michael spoke. When he looked back at him, he realized Michael was staring at where he was perched behind the door. He feared Michael knew of his presence. He thought he should try and sneak away before being caught, then Michael continued speaking. Gabe couldn’t resist the urge to stay and see what else might be revealed.
“If I’m correct and they don’t know where we are, time is all they need. We must prepare. We need to make sure each of the students are aware of what’s coming.”
“What of Gabe?” one of the men asked.
Michael looked at the men; they were nodding, anxious of what the plans were for the newest arrival.
“Why don’t we ask him?” with those words, Michael motioned to the door.
“Gabe, won’t you join us?” Michael said raising his voice above the chattering room.
Gabe froze. He debated if he should turn and run. He could act like he hadn’t heard anything, like he had never been there.
He decided there was no other choice, taking a deep breath, he stood and stepped into the room, every eye closing in on him in an instant. At first a silence fell over the room as the men watched him. A few steps in, Gabe began to hear whispers around the room and as he came to stand in the middle of the room, he was enveloped by the mutterings of the men. He felt his legs grow weak.
“Gabe. Please, come,” Michael said, extending his arm. Gabe approached, with his head bowed and eyes on the floor, embarrassed he had been caught eavesdropping. Michael reached out, wrapping his arm around Gabe’s shoulder, he pulled him in to stand right next to him.
“Gabe, here, has had quite an eventful first day with us,” Michael said addressing the room of gentlemen; a few responded with a nervous laugh.
“I’d like you to meet the Elders of the guardians.” Gabe smiled and nodded in polite recognition. He shifted his feet and did his best to focus on not passing out, which he thought might occur at any moment.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Gabe and I have much to discuss,” Michael said to the large group, leaving Gabe’s side and opening the double doors wide. “Please give us time to discuss the situation. We’ll meet again shortly. In the meantime, I need you all to begin readying the students and start preparations for Operation Phoenix.”
The elders scurried from the room. Some grasped Michael’s hand, muttering, “his will be done” or “blessings be on us” as they exited. Gabe watched as two of the younger gentlemen helped Anthony to his feet and he hobbled around the couch. Michael quickly crossed the room over to Anthony where they exchanged a few hushed words. Anthony frequently glanced over Michael’s shoulder in Gabe’s direction.
Gabe stumbled a few steps back until he felt himself pressed against the large desk. Thankful for the support, Gabe rested his weight against the massive piece of furniture, bracing himself with one hand.
Anthony gave the men helping him carefully worded instructions. Rather than exiting, they helped the injured man as he limped over to Gabe. When Anthony came to rest in front of Gabe, he stood as much as he could without assistance. He took in a deep breath, pulling back his shoulders and lifting his chin.
Gabe realized how misleading the reflection of Anthony had been. Anthony was a very large and fit man. His arms were muscular and well-defined.
“Gabe,” Anthony said with a slight wince as he extended a hand to shake. Gabe quickly responded with his hand, shuffling his feet and leaning forward in case Anthony needed assistance. “I just wanted to introduce myself and meet the great and powerful Gabe Harwood that we have been hearing so much about.”
Gabe thought he detected some sarcasm in Anthony’s voice, but decided that he was imagining things. After all, the man had been severely injured.
“I don’t know about powerful ... but I’m Gabe,” he replied, continuing to shake Anthony’s hand and flashing a smile.
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
Anthony’s words unnerved Gabe a little, almost as if he were threatening him in a way. Anthony quickly followed in a more pleasant tone.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Anthony. I’m sure we’ll see more of each other soon, but for now I have a date with a healer.” Anthony smiled through gritted teeth as the men at his sides quickly moved in, taking a tight hold of his arms, helping him to the doors.
Gabe stood there as he walked away, unsure what to make of the meeting. Michael walked Anthony out. The two of them again whispered in hushed tones.
When they reached the door, Michael stood up str
aight. Placing a hand on Anthony’s shoulder, he said clearly, “We’ll talk soon, be well.” With that, Anthony disappeared into the hall with his escorts.
During Michael and Anthony’s exchange, Gabe found himself beginning to wonder what the name Operation Phoenix meant. He was entranced by the impressiveness of it.
Michael leaned into the hall and motioned for one of the nearby men to assist him. Michael grabbed his hand and held onto it for a moment. The man stumbled back and looked at Michael curiously in response. Gabe realized it was the unpleasant looking man he had seen outside Michael’s office that first day.
“Please send Uri in right away,” Michael whispered. The man looked back at Gabe, emotionless. He nodded to Michael as he left.
“Shall we?” Michael asked motioning to the couch. Gabe shuffled his feet across the emblem in the floor as he followed Michael. “Now, I don’t encourage my students to eavesdrop. However, considering you’re not yet a student, I suppose we can let that slide,” he added smiling, taking a seat in one of the side leather chairs.
Gabe sat on the couch, unsure what to say, ashamed he had been listening at the door.
On the table in front of them, Gabe spied an old metal bowl that was trimmed in decorative paintings of fruits. The water inside was a deep red and bloody rags draped over the side. When Michael saw where Gabe’s eyes were fixed, he quickly hopped to his feet, removing the bowl and bloody scraps. He deposited them out of sight on the far side of his desk.
Walking back over, Michael tapped a kettle with his fingertips that was perched in the fireplace just above the flames. First checking the handle for temperature, Michael grabbed for a rag that was on the mantle and pulled the kettle out of the flames. Walking over to a nearby side table, he set the pot on a small towel that was folded on the table top. Also on the table there was a small stack of delicate tea cups, saucers and a mini crystal bowl overflowing with sugar cubes. “Tea?” Michael asked lifting the pot again and pouring the steaming liquid into the cup closest to him.