The Angels' Pride

by Steven Lindsay

  She would reunite them all.

  The land and the people needed it. The land was dying, it needed her desperately if it was ever to flourish again. Pollution clogged their rivers, clouded the air and shrouded their cities. They were a lost nation, worshipping dead Gods. They were without any guidance through no fault of their own. Or even their Gods, their Gods had been overthrown by the bastard children of other Gods. It reminded her of her own land, well the rest of the world really. The Angels were the progeny of the Mediterranean and Near Eastern Gods.

  She looked out the window at the brown pastures, skeleton jungles and toxic wastelands flashing by. The land was dying, the Lifestream sinking deeper into the earth and most life couldn’t reach that far. If it sunk further, very few things would be able to reach it. Then Humanity was really in trouble.

  How she longed to return to Britain and walk its hallowed earth, to hear the whispers of Fairies and druids, probably all long gone. To quicken her land, to pull the Lifestream back up above the surface, to flood the land with its power. To watch Britain explode with life and magic. To quicken her own blood.

  Her people were so lost without guidance for so long. They had succeeded incredibly well on their own, the Angels had done very little controlling since the Middle Ages, but they had lost themselves again. But they had cast their net wide, and now she would pick up all those threads, all the colonies of Britain would become her domain.

  She would claim British India, modern day India, Pakistan and Bangladesh, and finalise her claim of Australia and its neighbour New Zealand. But she had done her research, and her hunger for power had grown. She would claim Canada, South Africa, Singapore, and Malaysia as well as the myriad of African, Caribbean, Asian and Pacific Island colonies. Then there was Palestine and Israel, a land she had every right to claim as a former British Mandate and yet she was scared to. Jerusalem sat unknowingly over Hell, it sat next to the Dead Sea the very place where Lucifer and his brethren had crashed through the Surface and into the Underworld. It was also near Jerusalem that Eden had sat before it had been hidden.

  She could claim it if she dared. But it was also the original Angel stronghold on the Surface. Would she try and claim it and threaten the Angels’ foothold on Earth?

  She would. When she was far more powerful.

  Through the old British Empire she would have control over a quarter of the world’s land, never mind the billions of people that would come with that. If she succeeded she would not only have the largest empire the world had ever seen, she would also become the most Empowered Goddess that it had ever seen. The possibilities to destroy the Angels were limitless if she succeeded with the British Empire alone. Never mind any future conquests.

  But for now, it was still very much baby steps. She still had to make her mark on the Taj Mahal and claim Agra. From there it would be the Ganges and Indus Rivers. She allowed her powers to flow all around her as the car drove on, feeling the taste of the land and letting it drink in her powers. Normally she would be worried about leaving such a mark, but currently, the world was under a blanket of magic so thick no one had a hope of tracing her.

  She felt the land resonating with her, accepting her. From here on in there would be no hesitation. She would claim all of Britain’s territories and when she returned to her homeland she would be a Goddess worthy for them.

  Hera slipped out of the bed and walked out onto the balcony heedless to the biting cold or the occasional snowflake falling on her naked skin. She breathed in the cold as she breathed in the power that New York was emitting. New York was safe once again, there was certainly a strong Angelic presence, but her trace had been obliterated by the darkness. New York was soaking up the magic slowly, it didn’t have a strong history of magic, the land while fertile had never been abundant with the Lifestream. But that was changing, it was fortunate the Angels couldn’t sense where the Lifestreams passed through, otherwise they would have noticed it was now moving ever closer to New York, drawn by her presence and the strengthening powers of her Daemons.

  Even the Humans were starting to notice a difference, they were cheerier, and they didn’t know why. They had no idea that one of the most powerful Goddesses in antiquity had made their city her power base. New York would be the capital of her new empire. As her powers flowed through the city, the Daemons went about their daily lives adding their own essence to the mix. And with a new Lifestream rising from within the planet’s core, New York was about to become abundantly magical. She absently wondered which directions the Lifestream would go.

  As she reflected on her continuing small successes in New York, California, and Illinois, she wondered how Brigid was doing. It was still far too dangerous to contact her. She hoped she had avoided capture and was doing well. She was a cautious one, Hera felt sure she had squirreled away safely somewhere, probably some small town or village. She would be pining to go back to Britain. Maybe she had gone to the Falkland Islands, they were very British and safely at the other end of the globe. It would make sense, Brigid had never been one for big empires. How would she adjust to learning that Britain had been the biggest empire in the world, in her absence?

  The Angels were still scouring the British Isles and Mediterranean in case either she or Brigid was stupid enough to return to their old stomping grounds. They would also be looking for Sariel, she was too valuable to their plans and too dangerous to be used against them. They didn’t know that she was in the one place they didn’t want her, the Underworld. The only way they could get her out was through Lucifer’s Crater.

  She touched her chest in surprise when she felt a twinge of guilt. How many centuries had it been since she had felt something as useless as guilt? Far longer than her imprisonment. Had she regained a shred of Humanity? That was highly disturbing, but perhaps it was long overdue. She had been out of touch with the world for so long, all of Heaven was so out of touch with the world. Was it any wonder that they had been overthrown or that the Angels might well too? Heaven desensitised the Divine to the rest of the world.

  Well, she couldn’t be in a more different situation to the last time she had walked amongst mortals. Back then she had walked among them blazing with her power, inciting wars and conquests, making great men bow before her. She had been a beautiful Siren commanding them to do her bidding, demanding their sons and daughters, their very hearts and souls. And still she had demanded more while they had done everything within their power, and outside it, to achieve it. She had demanded everything and taken it all. They had been but pawns in the Divine Games, and she had used them all ruthlessly.

  She missed those days.

  Now she lived among them. Most had no idea she even existed, the Daemons knew her and revered her. Humanity as a whole though was nearly completely oblivious to her presence. Since her confrontational arrival, she had settled to living in the shadows. She lived in her apartments, and she stalked through the city, pulling the strings and soothing the way with magic, seen and yet unseen, always searching and feeling. She hadn’t even formally claimed Manhattan yet, never mind the rest of New York City.

  One of her peafowls fluttered clumsily onto her arm. He was taking well to the transformation. She hated having to be subtle about everything, in the old days the transformation would have taken seconds and be complete. Unfortunately, transformations left quite a magical trace, so she had to do this one slowly. But it was vital to her needs.

  She stroked his reddish head and neck, finding some comfort in the action. Had her heart really thawed?

  If it had that created new problems for her future plans. If she cared more could she be as ruthless as she had once been? And if she couldn’t, did she stand any chance at winning? There were so many new problems, Atheists were incredibly resistant to Divine persuasion, many of the races she had once controlled had long since been eradicated, magic did not work as it once had, the planet and her own powers were weak and sluggish, though starting to quicken, and she was alone.

  Completel
y alone, she had no pantheon to back her up. No family, no friends, not even any rivals to compete with. All she had was a life and death struggle with the Angels.

  She didn’t have any fanatical believers or powerful sorcerers at her disposal. She had one incredibly powerful sorcerer and a handful of others, but they were useless at the moment. They had to be trained and made completely loyal. The world was so different, so very different from what she remembered and she was still adjusting to it.

  She was living her life hiding in fear. Deny it all she might but she was afraid. She was afraid of being found by the Angels, they could imprison and torture her again or this time, they might just execute her. She was struggling to build her power base, she was having small successes but nothing significant, she couldn’t even call a single city her own. The land was more difficult than she remembered, very unresponsive to her powers. Its pulse was very weak, and there were vestiges of Gods that had once claimed this land. They might be long dead and obliterated by Christendom, but the land still remembered, it couldn’t forget when it was still dreaming.

  She had been so sure of her abilities and of herself. She had truly believed that within days of being in New York it would belong to her completely, with every citizen a devout fanatic. But times had changed, Humanity had changed, and the world had changed. She was uncertain what the future held for her. Heaven was her home, she was still its Queen, perhaps it was time she returned to it. She shook her head at her own foolishness, it was more than suicidal to return to Heaven.

  If she was going to have any chance of surviving and hopefully living then, it was here on the Surface. For better or worse she had chosen New York. In time, she might claim the rest of North America, but for now, she would struggle with New York.

  Pope John Paul V was a weak man, frail of health and body, and he had never been a strong or charismatic leader. He knew that his election as pontiff was merely the result of a stalemate between conservatives and progressives. He had been their answer, a leader who would not make changes, would not stand up against the groups of cardinals and in all likelihood would die reasonably quicker than any other cardinal.

  He was there to buy time for both sides to strengthen up their planned electives. It was going on while he was still alive. Sometimes he wondered if they would do him in when one group finally gained their majority. He had achieved very little in his five-year reign and expected that to remain the same until he died. He was a Pope that would become mostly forgotten, except in name.

  When he had first been elected, he had honestly thought that he had been handpicked by God to lead the Church. He had known about the factions within the Church when he was elected, how could he not? But he had believed that he could move the Church forward and help heal the rifts. He had long prayed for an Angel of the Lord to answer him and help him heal the Church, but Heaven had long been silent.

  He sat at his desk absently reading through reports, his heart no longer in it. He waited for the day he would die and be relieved of this task. He only hoped Heaven was different from Earth and that the Angels truly knew peace.

  “You would doubt Heaven? You the leader of the Catholic faith doubts Heaven, what hope is there for your religion and followers? What hope is there for more than a billion true believers?” Sneered a hauntingly musical voice.

  He jumped out of his chair falling to the floor as he saw the Angel. The Angel was nearly eight feet tall, graced with six golden wings and wore heavy Roman-style armour. He raised his helmet, the golden eyes within pierced him to the ground. Tears rolled down his cheeks, his prayers had been answered, the Lord had listened.

  Gabriel grimaced to herself behind her glowing glamour as she read his thoughts. She had always disliked Humans, her own subjects the most, for they did not believe in her but in the Lord. They were such easily swayed beings, so weak compared to the Angels, or any of the other Demon races for that matter. They were so foolish, the men so patriarchal, it annoyed her to act the messenger. Though, she always did to make sure things were done right.

  “You are a Servant of the Lord, and yet you question his ways. Have no doubt Human when you see the light. Your task is to keep that light strong and let that light spread through all the faithful. The time of Judgement is coming, and Humanity needs saving for it is lost. Faith weakens the world over, Demons walk among you, rule corporations and control governments. Sin is rampant, spreading like a disease and the Demons only grow stronger off of Humanity’s weakness. Hell grows fat with the souls of mortal sinners while Heaven grows lean.”

  The Angel raised his sword, which was ablaze in brilliant golden fire “Your doubts feed the darkness and weaken the light.” He lowered it until it was centimetres away from his chest “You will spread the light John Paul V, or you will earn your place in Hell.”

  He cowered under the Angel’s vehemence.

  “But how am I to achieve this?”

  The Angel turned the full force of his burning gaze on him, paralysing him and depriving him of rational thought. The Angel stepped forward and grasped his face with burning hands, the pain seared through him, but he could not pull away.

  “That is the merest taste of what lies in Hell if you fail me. You will use the scant brains you have to unify the Church once again. If you have need of me, call for the Arch Angel Gabriel, and I will come to your aid.” His voice turned deadly “but do not summon me without due cause, I am not to be trifled with, and I am extremely busy. Understand?”

  “Yes, perfectly.”

  Suddenly Gabriel, his light, and his pain were gone. John Paul lay panting on the floor. He was meant for something, he had been handpicked by God. He had been visited by one of the Arch Angels, by Gabriel no less. He was meant for something, he would be remembered as the last Pope. Judgement Day was coming.

  He barely noticed when the door swung open, no announcement, it could only be Cardinal Benedict, leader of the conservative faction.

  “What are you doing on the floor? Did you have a heart attack?” He heard the lack of concern in the Cardinal’s voice.

  He stood up a new man, blessed by the Angel. Benedict looked at him strangely, there was a bearing to him that was different.

  “No I did not have a heart attack, I was visited by the Arch Angel Gabriel, and he gave me a holy mission. It is long overdue that the Church sorted out our problems.” He raised his head smiling before turning his attention back to the cardinal “And while we are at it Benedict you will address me with the proper respect I am due.” With that, he swept out of his office leaving behind a very surprised Cardinal.

  Chapter 18

  The ring of metal striking against metal filled the courtyard. Nemesis lunged forward with lightning speed and precise calculation. Her face was completely devoid of emotion, only a slight frown marring her perfect features. For her fighting was an intricate dance, a celebration of violence and skill, an acknowledgement to the Chaos that lived in them all. Every fight was calculated and invigorating, and she had not had fights of this intensity in quite some time.

  Sariel mirrored Nemesis, her own perfect features scrunched up in concentration, a few stray drops of sweat ran down her brow- extremely rare for any Divine being, an indicator of just how much strain her body was under. She darted back and raised her sword deflecting Nemesis’ blow and quickly raised her other sword to deflect the low stab. They jumped back from each other, both using their wings to aid their movement. To those who watched they were like darting shadows.

  Nemesis jumped up into the air, cartwheeling towards Sariel. Sariel rolled forward, snapped her wings wide and jumped free of the two swords that speared the ground. Nemesis didn’t even pause, as soon as she missed Sariel, she pulled the swords free spun around and cut off a strip of Sariel’s flowing top. Both watched the strip of white material as it floated slowly to the ground.

  As soon as it landed, they were fighting again, metal ringing out again and again around the courtyard, interspaced with the occasional screech
of a sword hitting the marble. They were like lightning, with just as many sparks. Nemesis was like a viper always striking at Sariel. But Sariel was like the wind, whipping out of range of each and every strike, or countering them.

  Sariel launched herself into the air and Nemesis followed like a striking falcon. Up in the air, they became as quicksilver, flashes of black and white blending together. The sound of swords clashing became faster and louder. Up in the air, they were both in their element.

  Sariel flicked out with both her swords, catching one of Nemesis’ swords and wrenching it out of her grasp. Sariel gasped in surprise as she watched the sword clatter on the courtyard below while Nemesis’ other sword snaked across her throat.

  They both landed in the courtyard and bowed to each other. Nemesis called her sword back to herself while Sariel magically mended her top. “You should always watch your enemy, not their disarmed weapon” She was frowning but despite the rebuke, Sariel could tell that she was proud. Suddenly Nyx appeared next to them in a flutter of shadows.

  “Well done Sariel, it has been a long, long time since anyone disarmed Nemesis.”

  “I hardly disarmed her. She still had her other sword, and she still beat me. I still have much to learn.”

  “To disarm me, even just one sword is a major accomplishment Sariel, your brother never achieved it. No Angel has ever achieved it. As for beating me, it has been so long since I lost a fight. The last time was nearly three thousand years to Sekhmet, and that fight went on for nearly a month. You have learned well Sariel, there is very little for me to still teach you.” She grasped Sariel’s shoulder, like comrades in arms. Sariel looked at her in surprise, and she nodded to her before disappearing.

  “Your physical fighting is complete, and your magical training is done as much as we can. Now we need to know what your truest powers are, it is time we knew the full extent of your unique blend of powers.”