The Angels' Pride

by Steven Lindsay

  The others laughed at her dismay. It had been a very long time since they had a ray of sunshine in the Underworld, and Sariel was the brightest there had ever been. She lit up the whole room with her bright, inquisitive nature and her naivety always brought a smile.

  Thanatos watched as she made the ever stoic Nemesis laugh, something the rest of them could rarely do. In their long imprisonment in the Underground they had faded, the vibrancy that the Surface and Heaven had imbued them with had long since disappeared. Sariel was the very essence of vitality. She was so unlike anyone else in his family, she lacked calculation. Gods and their progeny had it by nature, it was almost instinctual. His son had received it by the bucket loads, and Michael was cut from the same cloth but not Sariel. Everything she did was impulsive, selfless or for the sake of it. She did things the rest of them had never considered, simply to see if it could be done. Her laughter was like music through the ancient empty halls of the castle.

  He belatedly realised everyone was looking at him “what is it?”

  “You have to make a speech,” Nemesis said with glee, calculation plain in her eyes.

  “Why do I have to make a speech?”

  “Because you are her closest blood relative,” Hades responded. He looked thankful more than anything, probably because he didn’t have to make another speech.

  He sighed. Then he turned to Sariel, who watched him with innocent eyes and a slight smile “In the morning one of our own leaves to prove herself, on an ordeal of adulthood and Godhood. The path will be long and difficult, but I truly believe that nothing will get in your way. I have only known you a short time granddaughter, but you are the most amazing person I have ever met. You are like pure sunshine in this realm, you brighten our days and remind us to live. You make us believe and hope, you make us smile and laugh. You try our patience, you pull our heart strings, you make us feel again. You are like a tonic. To you Sariel.” He raised his goblet, and the others followed suit cheering. She ran forward and hugged him beaming widely. He hugged her back, breathing in her scent and feeling her warmth. She was vibrancy encased in skin.

  Her attention was caught by fireworks in one of the cityscapes, and she darted off to gasp in delight while Hypnos explained the modern world from what he had learned in dreams. She was very quickly laughing and gasping in awe at his stories.

  “That was a beautiful speech” Hades came to stand next to him.

  “It was heartfelt.”

  “We’ve all changed so much in the time she has been with us. When was the last time a phrase such as heartfelt left our lips? When did we start feeling guilty for using one of our own? Who would have ever thought it possible that one day we would call an Angel family again, and not just an Angel, an Arch Angel?” He sighed heavily, his years were like a burden these days “I feel guilty for sending her off to solve our problems, I feel we should tell her why we are allowing her to venture into Hell but then I fear she won’t break the Curse.”

  “How do you think I feel? I’m allowing my granddaughter to be used by all of us.”

  “Is that not what we have always done? We are Gods it is what we do?

  “But before we never cared or felt guilt. But now...” he trailed off looking at Sariel as she pulled Charon into a dance. Her laughter was melodious, her joy infectious. She pulled him around and around, his robes swishing faster than they probably ever had before, his feet slapping the ground with a rattle of bones. And while he looked exasperated and awkward he was smiling. Even Nemesis was smiling widely, even when she too was pulled into the dance. She was more graceful than Charon.

  Part 2

  Descent into Hell

  Chapter 23

  She was nervous but very excited. Today was the day she ventured into Hell. She should be frightened, she should be wary. She knew the stories of the Demons, they were the Fallen Angels and Monsters from the Age of Gods. She remembered Michael and Gabriel having to fight Greater Demons when she was younger, they had somehow escaped from Hell. She had also been attacked by a Demon in the borderlands of Hell, and he had been but a minor Demon. There was far worse within the depths of Hell, but she just had to avoid them before she could sneak out the top of Lucifer’s Crater.

  She was brought back to reality when Charon extended his skeletal hand to help her into his ferry. Hades had insisted on helping her as much as possible. Charon was ferrying her through the rivers Styx and Acheron, which bordered Hell. She had been surprised to learn that he ferried souls into both Hades and Hell. Apparently mortals had not given up their notions of the world despite the spread of the Angels’ religions. As such many of their old beliefs had merely been incorporated. Hecate had taken the imagery of witches and Demons, much like Lilith. They were well remembered but changed. Charon had merely had his job updated while Hades was half remembered as ruling the Underworld. The rest of them had been forgotten, becoming myths of the past or in Hypnos and Nemesis’ case simply words. The only one of them who had maintained their power was Gaia, she is more commonly called Mother Nature these days, but her various names were thrown around commonly.

  Charon’s ferry was surprisingly large. From the references to him she had read in Heaven’s library, she had expected a simple row boat. This was a fair sized vessel as far as she could tell, not that she had any experience what so ever. It was several metres long which easily accommodated herself, Hecate and Isis, plus their wings. It was an age darkened ship, smoke and water had stained the outside of the boat. The inside was clean and neat, though Spartan. There were a couple of wooden benches. They were the only decorations.

  He caught her looking at his boat “sorry, I keep it sparse for the souls. They only damage finery in their denial.” He waved his hand, and the whole vessel started to change. The ship revitalised itself, age peeling away as gilt spread along the pristine wood. Cushions bloomed along the benches which themselves became sturdier. Where had sat an aged and weather-beaten boat, now sat a beautiful example of fine workmanship. She smiled at Charon as she settled onto the silk cushion “thank you.”

  Instead of the skeleton that she was used to stood a youth, with not a hair on his face. He was almost Angelic in beauty, delicate features, and slim limbs. His hair was jet black, his eyes were a startling blue-grey that flashed in the slightest light, his fingernails were black, his skin a shadowy grey. In this form, it was very easy to see that Nyx was his mother. He smiled at her, flashing very long canines “this is the form I assume when ferrying Gods, Demigods, and Heroes. My form changes on what task I have.”

  “Like us all, he is subject to mortal belief. Their perceptions become facets through which our powers are filtered.” Hecate assisted Isis into the boat, and they settled gracefully. Sariel wondered how they both managed to so casually be graceful and seductive in their every movement.

  “So if mortals were to believe that I had golden hair then I could change my hair to gold.”

  “You can do that anyway, it is more along the lines of if Christians believed you had golden hair then it would automatically change to gold when you entered a church. The perception of Gabriel is that she is a man, so she and the other Arch Angels appear to mortals as shining warriors from above. If you had met mortals with your fellow Arch Angels, you would have appeared the same.

  I, on the other hand, have become a shadow of the night, something to be feared. I have become associated with Demons and Witchcraft, one of my forms is Demonic. Just like Charon. The closer we get to Hell the more Demonic we will appear. Perception is the one thing Gods are powerless to fight against. We can control mortal perception, but it can easily run away from our control.”

  “But you appeared now as when I first met you.”

  “That was at the edge of the Borderlands, we will take you almost to the edge of Limbo.”

  “Don’t worry while these two turn into Demons I will remain the same” Isis smirked.

  “She was forgotten, or not considered a threat. Either way the Angels and their rel
igions did not slur her name like they did ours.”

  “Is that a good or a bad thing?” Sariel asked.

  “Definitely good,” Isis said at the same time Hecate said “Horribly bad.”

  Sariel laughed as they glared at each other.

  “Only time will tell whether it is good or bad” Charon added absently.

  A long wooden pole materialised within his hands and with obvious ease he pushed it into the water, and the boat started to move forward. Sariel cast a final glance back at the entrance to Hades and waved when she saw Cerberus in his giant form watching them leave.

  She glanced about taking the time to actually look at the Underworld now that she wasn’t being chased by Cerberus. It held a strange quality, eerily beautiful in its own way with the sense of danger pervading everything. The River Styx was different to what she remembered, it was far wider and while there were still plumes of fire they were nowhere near as numerous. The river was completely dark beneath the boat, not even the flames were reflected in the water.

  “This is different from the last time I was here.”

  Charon glanced back at her “The Underworld is not like Heaven. It is not stationary but always dynamic and changing. It is unpredictable. The rivers that flow through here follow set paths and as though to make up for that one piece of order they are forever changing. Their width and speed change all the time, the only certainty is that the dead cannot cross the waters without being drawn in, and the living are stripped of their lives. Even the Divine.”

  “What about Achilles?”

  “He was the son of a Nymph, they are kin to Angels, semi-Divine by nature with the potential to Ascend to being Gods. She was also unique in her genetic powers. That same blood ran in his veins, so the waters reacted differently for him. The Styx is alive, which people forget, it has its own alien intelligence, which is why strange miracles and oddities occur.”

  They passed out of the wide cavern into the smaller tunnel she remembered, “So when I was last here it was trying to contain me, which was why everything was so violent?”

  “Yes, that is exactly it.”

  “Does that mean that the waterfall will not be there this time?”

  “It is always there, for that is the end of the Styx. The borders of the rivers are always dramatic because it is essentially where two entities are blending into each other. At the bottom of the falls is the Acheron, which will take us into Hell. It surrounds Hades on all other sides, and it is also the water source for Hades.”

  “I thought there was only one entrance to Hades.”

  “There is, with the exception of Hell, the Underworld realms have only one entrance in the form of a gate. It makes it easier to direct and contain the dead. But the rivers themselves are not stopped by such boundaries. Hell is the one exception, it is where all the rivers of the Underworld congregate. The Acheron has grown very powerful fed by all the other rivers. When Lucifer and his Angels fell from Heaven, they created a massive crater. The spells that Gabriel and Michael cast reshaped the dynamics of Hell. It is the focal point of power in the Underworld.

  Now the dead can enter Hell from any direction. All the rivers feed into the Acheron, which encircles all of Hell before feeding through Limbo and falling into the crater. I ferry some of the dead to those shores, most though are caught in the current and swept straight over the waters into Hell.”

  “What happens to them in the crater?”

  “We have little understanding except that it is a place of torment some of us are pulled in and out of. Their memories are broken and fragmented though, but we do know it is a terrifying place.”

  There was something ominous in that warning, and she sharpened her gaze at him.

  “Some of us venture through the Borderlands and as such we do have some understanding of the Demons, but we know little about the Greater Demons. But none of us can truly venture in. We have no understanding of Lucifer since the Fall. The only person I can think of who may actually know is your mother. Because of her nature, she can traverse all boundaries of Heaven and Hell.”

  “I wouldn’t even know what she looks like.”

  “I have no idea what she looks like now, the centuries would not have left her unchanged. The Human perception of her has changed dramatically, and the Lilin and Vampire beliefs will have only strengthened her Demonic side.”

  “It is so great to know that both my parents are Demons.”

  “It is not the Demons that you should worry most about but the spells. The very nature of things have been changed with that spell, nothing will be as it seems.”

  She was about to ask him more when they shot out of the tunnel, and the roar of a waterfall eclipsed all other sounds. This time, the waterfall was wide, curving around as far as the gloom permitted her to see. But her attention was immediately directed to the empty void in front of her. Within the gloom, she could see the pillar she had slept on.

  She was on the verge of screaming, but Charon simply waved his hand as the boat shot out into the air. She grabbed the edge of the boat and peered over the edge to see the boat was slowly gliding downwards. She was enchanted by the slight hints of rainbows in the spumes of water and within the smoke fire of different colours danced like will-o-wisps.

  She turned back when she heard stifled laughter, Isis was watching her, a hand covering her mouth. “You really thought we were going to fall. We are Gods, you really have no faith in our powers.”

  Sariel decided that being quiet was better than responding.

  The boat gradually eased back into the waters of the Acheron a long distance from the falls. Their drone gradually receded as the strong current pulled them away. Sariel suddenly noticed that Charon was changing. The youthfulness was fading out of his features ever so slowly. She flicked her eyes to Hecate and saw the same change occurring.

  As the boat thundered along the now raging river, another roar started to grow. It was a distant but ominous sound. Something big lay ahead. But as they shot along the river it was the changes to Charon and Hecate that fascinated her the most. Charon’s skin wrinkled and greased, aging until he became a hunchbacked old man. A long white beard grew down into the river as his skin took on a sickly grey tone. He was old and weak looking, but his eyes had started to burn brightly casting their own strange grey-blue light.

  Hecate, on the other hand, had taken the opposite direction. While his fearful form was from age and deformity, her fearful appearance stemmed from the fear of lust. Everything about her seemed sexually charged, from her hair forming seductive curls over her now pale shoulders. Every feature on her face sharpened and became more alluring, but her eyes were cold, she now wore the face of a predator. Her clothing had changed from Greek style to black witch’s robes with long wide sleeves, skin hugging around an increasingly ample amount of exposed bosom. Her lips were now blood red as were her fingernails that had grown into what could only be called talons or claws. Even her eyes had turned blood red. She instilled a sense of longing that greatly disturbed Sariel, she was Divine, how on earth would a mortal feel?

  In complete contrast Isis was completely the same, no not completely. Her bright aura now shone even brighter as though to fight off the shadows pressing in. It was the brightest source of light in any direction. Sariel couldn’t help but feel she was a beacon for Demons to zone in on. She suddenly felt very vulnerable.

  Her feelings only increased when she saw Charon’s back rippling. She covered her gasp when a pair of bat-like wings erupted out of his robe. She didn’t manage to hide her scream when a black pair erupted out the back of Hecate. They both absently flapped them as they turned to regard her.

  “You really do startle easily. We may be Gods but we are slaves to the power of perception and Hell is perhaps the strongest place for mortal perception.” Her voice sounded ancient, haunted with a seductive huskiness. She seemed to be caught between being a figure of fear and lust. The combination didn’t sit well with her. She grimaced at her voice.
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br />   The boat gently scraped up onto a long sand bank. Charon turned to her, his appearance was even more unsettling “this is where we part Sariel. Any further and we risk becoming stuck in these forms and being dragged into Hell.” He held out his hand to her, and she carefully allowed him to help her out onto the shore. He leaned in close to her, catching her attention with his burning eyes “Remember that things will not be as they seem. We believe in you Sariel and wish for you to succeed. You must slowly descend through each Level of Hell until you reach the final Level, it is only from there that you can ascend to the Surface.”

  Hecate and Isis stood and bowed to her “Farewell and good luck.”

  Sariel stood waving to them as they faded back into the gloom. The last she saw was the bony arm of Charon waving beneath his flaming eyes and the nexus of light that was Isis long after they had been swallowed by the mists.

  She looked around for the first time, taking in the sheer emptiness of the Borderlands. There were long sandbanks all leading towards Limbo. The River Acheron branched between the many sandbanks and if she understood it correctly would then plunge downwards into the second Level of Hell. For now, she had to make her way into Limbo.

  And what a bleak landscape it was. Apart from the sandbanks and the towering pillars of rock of which some rose all the way up to meet the ceiling far above, there were only the ever-shifting curtains of mist. There was also the river, which strangely enough wasn’t as dark as the Styx. It was much greyer in colour, often lit by flashing streaks as souls were dragged with the waters into Hell. None of them had a chance of fighting the river.

  This place seemed to leach out all joy and colour. She wondered if she stayed long enough if her hair and wings would lose their gloss and her eyes would lose their colour. She imagined it must be worse in Hell. Speed was of the essence she decided. And with that, she set off at a brisk march down the sandbank towards Limbo.