The Angels' Pride

by Steven Lindsay

  She was suddenly assaulted by a barrage of new powers, ancient and Primordial, but these were not weak or decayed like the lingering shades bound to the Sacred Rivers. These were violently real. All her Angelic shields and spells were ripped away from her in seconds, Angel magic no matter how powerful was no match for Primordial powers. These powers had to belong to Brahman, that had been the source of the Hindu Pantheon but only the strongest among them could be wielding it still. It was most likely to be Kali, Shiva or Vishnu.

  She had to admit she was more than surprised to feel a Returned Primordial God’s powers still being wielded. But she supposed India was such a unique place that things were more than a little different. It had to be the rivers, they were usually the first claimed and settled areas, sacred and life-giving until the cities flourished and the river’s importance was forgotten. Except in India, especially the Ganges was sacred. Such strong belief would keep deceased powers alive.

  She had been a fool to think that a dead pantheon would mean the land would be easily claimable. Lands were loyal to those Gods and Goddesses who tended them. A fact that had been forgotten by many younger Gods, and the Angels too. It was why Ireland had never relinquished her and why many Britons still exhibited many of her gifts.

  But she too had forgotten it. India was no ordinary place, it was like Mesopotamia or China. It was a cradle of civilisation, the birthplace of many races, a region so steeped in history and magic that a Returned Primordial’s powers were now assaulting her. And those ancient powers bore only hatred for the Angels that had stripped her of its power and magic. All semblance of her Angel magic was gone, attacked from every aspect and angle. The only thing protecting her was her frail and underdeveloped earth powers. They were the only things that stood between her and death. Those powers held her in a death grip, ready to crush in an instant.

  “Who would dare claim my lands from me with Angel magic? It was said as a whisper but it roared through the waters with those Primordial powers. Brigid quailed blind to the voice as she was swept along in the waters. It was a terrible voice, powerful and demanding infused with death and destruction. It reminded her of Hera at her mightiest.

  “I dare! The last of my kind, possibly among the last of our kind. I bear the burden of saving the Earth from its own destruction. I will make the Angels pay but the land needs help too.”

  Her powers were no longer paralysed but they were not under her control either. They were spreading out all over physical and spiritual India, entwining with those ancient cosmic powers lying dormant in all those sacred rivers.

  Someone was holding her face, and slowly sight was returned to her. Before her stood a truly terrifying woman. She was more than a shade but not alive, but she was stunning. Her skin was as black as pitch, her lips and hair blood red, her eyes a red-violet. Blood decorated her black skin in symbols. Strangely enough, Brigid felt like she could see right through her. As though all of her secrets were being analysed by this shade.

  She smiled “You will do Brigid,” she said in a voice so worn Brigid didn’t realise that she had spoken at first.

  “Who are you?”

  “Kali, or more correctly the last remnants of her and her brethren. My powers allowed me a bit more strength in this state. But too long have we been denied our return to the wheel, trapped in this indeterminate state. Trapped by the very nature of our worshippers’ beliefs. Ironic. Now it is finally ended and you have set us free young Brigid.”

  She couldn’t remember the last time she had been called young, but compared to the Hindu Gods she certainly was.

  “And so our great dynasty finally comes to an end, just as yours is about to bloom. And yet life is full of cycles, who knows if this is really our last meeting or a final farewell. But you will grow strong Brigid if you incite the loyalty you once did you will become one of the most powerful Goddesses to have ever existed.” She placed her hand over Brigid’s heart and abdomen “Break the Angels Brigid if it is the one thing you do.”

  “I promise.”

  She smiled sadly as she touched Brigid’s stomach before she faded away. Beyond the other shades scattered as smoke in the wind. They existed no longer, finally allowed the peace they deserved. A slight tug at her heart told her that they had gifted her with powers. She just hoped she would not be tied to the same lingering fate should she fail.

  She sighed and relaxed, feeling the realm surge around her, desperate to embrace her, but so was the physical.

  With an undignified shriek, she was ripped from the ethereal back into the physical. Which unfortunately was a surging waterfront bringing destruction on hundreds of cities and towns along all the tributaries that fed into the Ganges and the Ganges itself. She cast about with her magic, feeling the presence of Angels, lots of Angels. Even Arch Angels.

  She cast out with a complex request, fuelled more by desire than any real conscious control. She cast complex shields then joined herself to the river, abandoning the physical and giving the Angels no chance to find her.

  She wondered vaguely where she would turn up.

  Chapter 20

  Hera whipped her head around to face the east as she felt the ripple of power spread outwards. She tasted the surge of the Lifestream as it flowed past her, more active than the whole time she had been freed. For some reason, it tasted very strongly of Brigid and the Hindu Gods. But she couldn’t make sense of what she was tasting.

  Settling for more practical means, she flicked on the TV and flicked it to the nearest news channel.

  India and Bangladesh are reeling after extensive flooding has devastated the region. The Ganges and all its tributaries have burst their banks suddenly and the reason has as yet been undetermined. The strangest aspect is that there hasn’t been a single recorded fatality. We turn now to Kelly Jones in India.

  The screen flashed to wreckage scenes. The city had been ripped cleanly in half, the debris was scattered far and wide among piles of mud. Flowing through the middle of the devastation was the river Ganges sparkling blue in the sunlight. Kelly Jones waved to the destruction behind her.

  The damage is extensive, whole buildings have been swept away, bridges and dams completely destroyed. What caused the rivers to flood so dramatically has not been determined. Initial reports suggest burst dams or a freak monsoon. Though what could cause such widespread flooding over two countries in so many rivers is a mystery.

  On top of this bizarre occurrence is the single most amazing aspect of it all. Not a single fatality and only the slightest of casualties. It is impossible to comprehend such a miracle. Hundreds of thousands of people were swept up in the river but none of them were harmed. Not even any animals were harmed. Everyone is at a loss how no one was harmed in such devastation.

  On another strange note, every person interviewed tells the same story of hearing a woman’s voice. The general consensus is that her name is Brigid and that she has claimed India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. Also, many of them have mentioned dreams about a woman with six wings. More reports have come in from the city of Varanasi and how the city was thrown into turmoil after a woman entered the river. Thousands tell of pillars of light and firestorms. These tales are being blamed as a mass hallucination.

  On a positive note, environmentalists are exclaiming over the renewed health of the river. It is the healthiest it has been in living memory, flowing unrestrained and without pollution. Various endemic species have been spotted in regions where they had previously died out. Will this event ever be explained or will it only ever be described as a freak disaster? Kelly Jones for CNN.

  Hera just stared at the TV screen in shock. What on Earth had Brigid been thinking, the Angels were as strong as ever? They would descend upon India in all their fury. Tomorrow there might not be an India. Tomorrow the Apocalypse might have been unleashed on the subcontinent. Why would she be so stupid as to make a claim on India? Now was not the age of claiming, not while the Angels were so strong.

  But Brigid wasn’t stupid, she
was known for her wisdom. Tactically speaking it was a fantastic start, India was one of the two most populous nations in the world. India and China were constantly leapfrogging to be the most populous. Bangladesh was also no light weight when it came to population. However, Bangladesh was an Islamic country. The Angels would not relinquish it lightly.

  Damn Brigid was doing well for herself. She had at her disposal populations that could only have been dreamed of in ancient times. The Angels truly did not wield the power at their disposal. If they had worked together as a unified front, the world would have been completely theirs, unified. Instead, they had let their petty rivalries get in the way, allowed their religions to fragment. As a result, there had been a resurgence of the Old Religions while Hinduism and Buddhism still flourished. Even stranger was the continual increase of Atheists, the absence of magic had created a void. What a strange notion, people who didn’t believe in any Gods, but in this day and age, they didn’t see the Gods constantly battling. They weren’t even visible in this day and age.

  But they would remember and fear.

  “Good luck Brigid. May Chaos guide you.”

  She turned to look out the window contemplating if she should make a claim on New York. Though it didn’t have any Sacred Rivers to conquer. How could she force it? She had to find New York’s Sacred Heart. Ha, what a joke!

  Fire raged along the banks of the River Ganges keeping away all the mortals. But it was not a natural fire, nor was it the result of Brigid. This was Angel fire burning with all the fury and frustration of the six Arch Angels as they surveyed the devastation Brigid had wrought. The fire was to keep away all mortals from viewing them, but even the other Angels dared not venture near them. Their anger could be felt miles away, mortals were too busy with the wreckage to notice the supernatural unease smothering much of India. But the Daemons could sense their presence and were keeping a very low profile.

  Six of the Arch Angels in one place was never good. After a Goddess had unleashed a trapped pantheon and then claimed their land, was the worst possible scenario for any Daemon.

  Nuriel, the Guard and Legion Captains landed before the Arch Angels. They showed incredible calm before the burning fury of their leaders.

  Zerachiel showed the greatest courage in speaking first “My Arch Angels there is no trace of the Goddess. The river sings emitting so much magic it clouds the air. But as for her trace, it disappears out at sea.”

  “She has vanished without a trace?” Gabriel’s voice was as cold as ice, even as the fires dancing over her intensified.

  “Yes, Mistress. What are your wishes?”

  She turned to look at the other Arch Angels, it was clear they were communicating mentally. In times like this Gabriel as the most powerful was the voice and all their discussions were not heard by anyone.

  “Nuriel will seek any trace she can of the Goddess. All will aid her regardless of her requests, all Captains will assist her when required. All Captains will use the Guards and Legions to continue observations across America and Europe, however, the main focus is now the subcontinent.” Her voice rang out louder, resonating in every Angel across the globe. “Unless already on a mission already approved by us all Elder, Ascended and Lesser Angels will convene on India. All Elder will work in a minimum of pairs, with four Ascended and a minimum of twenty Lesser. Every rock will be overturned, every Demon eradicated. India will be cleansed, Brigid found and neutralised. All worshippers are to be neutralised one way or another. Such are the Arch Angels commands.”

  They were released from the spell.

  The nearby Angels took flight quickly leaving their masters. One of the Elders was not so wise. He instead landed before them “is this really necessary, the Elder are not bloodhounds, leave it to the underlings.”

  While Gabriel might share his view on the Ascended and Lesser Angels she was beyond contempt when it came to the Elder’s stupidity.

  “You dare question your Arch Angels?” Her voice was laced with such venom only a fool would continue.

  Jegudiel was such a fool “Your decision is questionable my Lords. Heaven is our sanctuary, why should we leave it when there are thousands of servants to scour the Surface for us. Let them catch the two Goddesses, it is only a trivial matter.”

  She gasped in amazement and she wasn’t the only one “Are you really so fucking stupid Jegudiel? This is a God damn fucking nightmare we have not just one but two Goddesses free and claiming parts of the Surface. Hera is the Queen of Heaven and one of the most powerful Goddesses still around. She is at large gathering followers, if she gets a million followers she is beyond the ability of all but the Seven. She can easily get hundreds of millions, even billions.

  As for Brigid, she has spat in our face and claimed India the one land we have never been able to conquer and claimed two Islamic countries at the same time. She has claimed two of our countries and the faith she has left in her wake is strong. She is in all likelihood beyond the ability of all but the Seven. We do not have Seven Arch Angels.

  We are weak while the Goddesses grow only stronger you moron. Do not question us, for we have thought about it more than you are capable of” He collapsed to the ground gasping, clutching his throat. The six Arch Angels stared at him impassively as his physical body was denied is vital breath. Angels didn’t really need to breathe but their bodies did, if they couldn’t, they automatically supplemented their bodies’ needs with magic. He could not.

  His eyes misted up as his silver blood started pouring out of them. He spluttered between his gasps, blood coming out but no air going in. The ground was quickly splattered with silver blood. Lightning burst from the sky, striking him and sending him flying into the river. His flesh burned as the river turned against him, the Archs had no desire to kill him but the river was now wholly Brigid’s.

  “How pathetic if this is all Heaven can turn out. Clearly our time of peace has made us soft. Compulsory training sessions will recommence for the whole populace.”

  The six of them disappeared in a blaze of light.

  No one dared help Jegudiel as he struggled to get out of the river. If he died it was of no consequence but to help him might incur the Arch Angel’s wrath towards them.

  Pope John Paul V had surprised the entire Vatican with his sudden new fervour towards God. He was no longer the weak and cringing man he had been for years, nor was he easily controlled anymore. Now he stood in his office but where once he would have hidden behind his desk as the Cardinals made their demands he now stood looking out the window. Behind him were various Cardinals trying to coerce him to their will. But for the first time in years, he agreed with none of them. He was vehemently ignoring and belittling their suggestions and requests. As far as he was concerned, they had to help the world, for the End of Days was coming.

  He was looking out the window admiring God’s work. He had made such a beautiful world, imperfect for only Heaven could be perfect, but still very beautiful. His attention was caught by the white clouds, blooming and growing across the clear blue Mediterranean sky. By the light striking the different veins of the polished marble and how it moved through the glass. By the wind gently pushing and pulling the leaves on trees and the hair of women.

  He turned around and sighed inwardly “How many times do I have to tell you that I am not listening?”

  “For your sake mortal, you had better never say those words to me.” Before she had finished speaking, Gabriel had lifted him up by the throat. She stood there in full armour again, hiding all traces of her gender with light, spells and metal. “Now you listen carefully, John Paul.” He nodded as much as he could.

  “Good. Now there has been a disaster in India, a miracle some are calling it, and that is exactly what it is not. People heard the voice of Saint Brigid and you will tell the world this, in fact, you will immediately propose to visit the devastated region and imprint your faith. Any statues you find of Saint Brigid you will bless. If you play your part well, you will have earned you place in
Heaven. Understood?”

  “Perfectly” he gasped out. She let him go and he crumpled to the floor. She turned to face the quivering Cardinals “You will support his visit, you will support every proposal he makes. It is time your pathetic bickering was put aside and your petty ambitions given up before the grace of God. Judgement Day is coming and you will all be found wanting.”

  They all cowered before the blazing image of the Arch Angel Gabriel. None doubted his word, they saw within their own hearts their arrogance and sins. Then as quickly as he appeared he disappeared, leaving behind a lingering glow that slowly faded.

  The Pope spoke first “Get me media coverage and organise my visit to India. The Angel’s demands must be completed.” Then he swept out leaving behind the Cardinals who had once thought themselves better than him, who had allowed petty ambition and sin into the hallowed halls of God’s City. Let the light burn them clean.

  Azad Ali was a proud man, a powerful man. He was the kind of man other men looked up to, respected and feared a little. He was ruthless in character and a dedicated man, which was why he had risen so high in the military, he was the Chief of Army Staff. He was the top authority of the Pakistani army and the role suited him well. He was a disciplined man but he did enjoy the power and authority of his rule and was not always so stringent. He had used his power to line his own purse, but that was common for men of his rank.

  He stood staring out of the window down on the city of Islamabad. He had had a good life, he had a wife who had given him three healthy sons, the eldest of which had entered the military last year. He also had two daughters that would be married off to friend’s sons when they were old enough. He had a grand house, he had power but he also had respect, yet he felt like something was missing.