The little girl stared up at her, her small bloodied hands wrapped through Anjali’s long black hair. It was reflected in the little girl's eyes that she saw her end. She glanced over her shoulder to see the first helicopter bearing down on her again, its spotlight fixed on her. Its machine gun swept back and forth as it drew closer, mowing down defenceless people.
She sent her last prayer to Kali as the bullets ripped through her body. She screamed in agony but refused to let go of the little girl. She teetered on the edge of the bank, jerking as bullets continued to rip through her. She didn’t need a doctor to tell her there was no hope. She had already seen most of her organs explode out of her as mist. In a haze she slipped forward, her arms wrapped tightly around the little girl. If nothing else she would get her to the river.
Another spotlight flicked over her before seeping back. She heard the rumble of the tank as it fired its deadly missile. She was sent flying as the ground behind her exploded. She couldn’t feel anything below her waist, she had been paralysed. Time passed slowly as she was flung through the air, she saw part of her leg fly past. She saw why she couldn’t feel her legs, she didn’t have them anymore. There was no hope for her or the little girl. She was probably dead anyway.
As she flipped around in the air she saw the massacre on the river banks, blood ran in streams into the river but strange enough the river was surging up where the blood drained in. She hoped someone had videoed it all and put it on the internet. The world had to know about these atrocities.
She fell through the shining lights and splashed into the river’s waters. Her breath caught at the pain and cold. Then she felt her pain fade away, felt her body fade away. Was this death? She didn’t care.
She could no longer see or hear the battlefield. She was at peace.
Medusa turned her attention back to the body of Sariel as it suddenly flared with light. Both the Greater Demons who had been eating her backed away nervously. The body slowly floated upright, her grievous wounds healing in seconds. Her eyes were a blaze of white light, even the green, black and brown symbols covering her body had all turned bright white. They were also now moving.
White lightning danced all over her body, and even along her black wings.
She flicked her hands at the two Greater Demons, lightning struck them both from above. Their bodies twisted and writhed as they were thrown up into the air. They remained floating in the air as lightning coursed through their bodies, ripping through their Curse and stripping them of their reptilian and Demonic shells. In the two Demons’ place were revealed two beautiful female Elder Angels. One had long blonde hair, the other warm brown, both had dark bronze skin. Both had three pairs of golden wings. They bore a strong resemblance to each other, and a resemblance to Sariel.
The Fallen Angels on the wall tops resumed their attacks on Sariel, but Medusa could see it was foolish. This was not an Angel, who could be defeated with an onslaught of magic. This was well and truly a Goddess, beyond the abilities of even this many Demons to kill.
Sariel flicked her attention from Lilith and Naamah to the wall tops, irritated by their feeble attacks against her. A multitude of lightning struck the wall in a writhing net, as far as she could see in either direction. Within seconds the Demons were stripped of their Curse, leaving behind their original Angelic splendour. They slumped down exhausted.
The Furies tried attacking her, but she sent them back to Hades. Their thanks echoed out across the wall as they disappeared.
Her powers then swept over Medusa, stripping her of her Demonic guise and leaving instead a strange alien beauty, an echo of the Nymph she had once been. Medusa felt power beyond imagining sweep through her and neatly cut all remnants of Gabriel’s Curse away. To her surprise her powers did not disappear, they remained but were now different.
With all the wall’s guardians floating in the air, Sariel turned her attention to the closed gate. A massive blast of white light exploded into the gate, tearing it asunder. She floated forward, a nexus of blazing light, through the remains of the Gate to Dis. Each of the once Demons were laid down safely behind the hesitantly regrowing wall. Once again it stood strong, separating Outer and Inner Hell.
Sariel continued onwards.
Victoria flicked the remote, changing the channel to her father’s address. He was currently in France on an official visit, much to the surprise of Britain. He was performing most of his royal duties. No one knew that he was preparing the way for Victoria. They had made the decision that he would abdicate once she had turned 21 so that she could assume the throne. He had worried and argued with her, but she was far better suited to being queen than he was to being king. They both knew it.
So did the whole country.
The three years were to give her time to herself and time to adjust to the hectic duties expected of the ruling monarch. Being one for the few countries that still had a monarchy Britain expected a lot from their royals. It was only fair considering they paid for them.
She snuggled into the couch under the blanket, it might be March, but winter was not letting go. It had rained every day since the snows had stopped falling. Her two Fae shadows had informed her that the land was awakening under Brigid’s touch. The Lifestream was quickening and rising to the surface. She was to expect erratic weather patterns, but also an increased fertility all over the country. Plants, animals, and Humans would suddenly be abundantly fertile.
As it was the agricultural scientists were glowing at the unexpected growth in their labs and conservation groups were noticing forests were looking healthier.
So far the Angels had not noticed that Britain and Ireland were now cut off to them. But then it had only been a couple of days. It felt like years around Cathair and Aisling. They seemed to cast a depressing shadow over the whole palace. The servants shied away from them. She had no such luck, she had to endure hours of magical training that seemed to be progressing nowhere. They were acting even more snobbish towards her than before, she hadn’t thought it possible.
She had managed to extract herself from this afternoon’s lessons to watch her father’s speech. Their understanding of Humans was shockingly ignorant, a fact she planned to exploit against them. Perhaps she could use it to force an end to this ridiculous idea of an arranged marriage.
For now, she was comfortably snuggled up on a couch, wrapped in blankets and sipping hot chocolate as she idly watched the TV. It wasn’t like anything exciting was going to happen. The speech was merely a formality, the negotiations had already been made. France and Britain were going to be having shared military practices over the next two years, and there were some changes to commerce and information trade.
Her father was doing well. He looked relaxed and healthy, probably because he knew the light was at the end of the tunnel. These three years were his final farewell, a way to redeem himself to the public and pave the way for her.
He tapered off when a beam of light descended from the ceiling. Everyone watched in confusion as an Angel, a real Angel, descended. Victoria saw two images on top of each other. A Roman Centurion with six shining wings, the guise of the Arch Angels but underneath she saw an angry female with blonde hair and gold and white wings.
“What have you done you foolish mortal?” she yelled in utter fury before she ran her father through with her sword. Victoria surged forward screaming, entangled in her blankets. She scrambled up to the TV screen.
Her father looked down in surprise at the sword sticking out of him, he looked stupidly back up at the Angel not comprehending what had happened. The French President next to him was similarly paralysed. The security detail was not, they surged forward, guns blazing at the Angel. All their bullets were deflected off her shields. She raised her sword, the king dragged up into the air with it. No Human could so easily carry such weight in one arm.
“You and your country will pay for this insult, we will raze it to the ground. All your cities will burn. You will become the lesson the world will not forget.” Then she flicked her ar
m and sent the king hurtling into the wall. His lifeless body slid down the wall, his eyes vacant and dull. The President and both their aides were at his side in seconds to give medical help, but they were too late. King George VII was dead.
“Beware the Wrath of Heaven, Britain and Ireland have forsaken God for Brigid. You will suffer the consequences.” Then she disappeared upwards in a shaft of sunlight.
Security had rushed in by now at her screams. They stood awkwardly about until servants came in to attend their princess. Cathair had come with them. It was he who picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. He held her as she cried herself into an exhausted sleep. He then sat in one of the armchairs to watch over her. He too had lost his father to the Angels, he knew her pain.
Chapter 34
Sariel blazed through the burning landscape that was the Sixth Level of Hell. Impatience and her phenomenal powers lending her great speed. The Sixth Level was for heresy, and it was perhaps the most densely populated of all the levels she had seen. It was also a testament to the Arch Angels’ utter lack of care for mortals. In every direction, tightly packed together were burning tombs, their inhabitants wailing and screaming from pain. None were able to leave their tombs.
Perhaps the greatest cruelty of the Angels to their worshipers lay in their ever diverging religions and the views each religion took against each other. It was remarkable that there were any Lesser Angels at all, which meant they all had to have been fanatical as Humans. Because Judaism, Christianity and Islam all viewed each other as infidels and heretics, and within each religion there were various sects who saw each other as heretics it meant that nearly anyone could be classed as a heretic. It meant that any believer who was viewed as a heretic by another would likely burn for being a heretic. Unless they were famous or important to the Angels, then they would be dragged up through Purgatory.
Sariel flew over them, feeling their pain and suffering, but beneath it, their confusion. Many had lived devout lives only to end up in eternal torment because they had been viewed negatively by others.
Where she passed the flames died, and from her long streams of rain clouds drifted across the burning plains to gently extinguish the fires. She didn’t linger to examine her handiwork, instead pushing forward to find the cliff that announced the descent into the next level of Hell.
When Victoria awoke, she was very surprised to find Cathair dozing in an armchair next to her bed. She was less surprised to find her maid laying her breakfast on the table. She jerked her head towards him. “watched you all night he did, even carried you here when you collapsed. I was beginning to think he didn’t have a pleasant bone in his body.”
Victoria looked back at him in surprise, this was most unexpected. He had been nothing but cold since he had come to Buckingham Palace. She climbed out of bed and pulled on her robe as the maid left. Rumours would be born from tonight, but she was over caring.
She hesitantly and gently shook him awake, his glowing green eyes snapped up to her. Her breath caught when she saw his pupils were slitted like a cat’s and that his whites had entirely disappeared. As suddenly as it had happened his eyes returned to normal “you startled me” was all he said.
She felt awkward with him, she knew they were technically engaged as much as they both disliked it. She had no idea what to say to him and had never been alone with him before. His sister had always been present before.
“There’s breakfast if you want it,” she said indicating the table.
He nodded before uncurling and walking to the table with completely feline grace. It was times like this that she realised the Fae were natural born predators. She had initially thought that they would be vegetarian like Buddhists or Pagan, akin in their beliefs about the sanctity of life. They had curtly dismissed such notions, they were part of the circle of life and consumed life just as they gave to it. To their mind vegetarians were imbeciles. Turned out they were proficient hunters who usually turned into animals before hunting. If they did hunt with weapons, it was with archery or spears only.
The fact they could commune with animals and turn into them did not deter them at all. The royal family always changed into predators, it was part of their nature. She personally believed it heightened their predatory natures. She also believed that was why they lacked so much Humanity.
“If I may ask why did you stay last night?” she had found being subtle got her nowhere with the Fairies, not even the guards that had been assigned to her. Not that they often took form, she had only ever seen them as blue flashes at the edges of her vision when she left the palace.
“It is never easy to lose a parent, especially at the brutal hands of the Angels. It was clear that you were close to your father, his demise was particularly shocking because you are still so new to the world of magic.” He picked up an apple and bit into it, his green eyes fixed firmly on her.
His gaze was so unnerving “My presence makes you uncomfortable” he stated plainly.
“No” she quickly lied.
He merely smiled.
His smile died when she asked, “Is that what happened to your own father?”
“In a manner yes. He was hunted down by the Angels and slaughtered just as brutally. He was holding open the passage to the Otherworld for others who could not make a passageway themselves. They butchered him because so many escaped.”
“Your father was a hero.”
He nodded solemnly “His sacrifice saved thousands of lives.” He turned to look at her, piercing her with his gaze “Your father will become a martyr in the coming War.” He got up gracefully and gently grabbed her chin with one hand “it will do no good to blame yourself, Victoria, remember it is the Angels who are to blame. They killed him, not you, not anyone else. You have the power to readdress justice. You can cut off a great deal of their power. You also have great potential within yourself.”
He casually walked out of the room, closing the door with a final courteous nod at her. She just sat there with her heart racing. Christ his hands were like fire, and he had been so close. She had had to resist with every fibre of her being to stop herself from kissing him. She rubbed her chin, feeling the heat dissipating. She didn’t know what to make of it, it had felt like an intimate moment, but she couldn’t be sure with him.
Instead, she poured herself a stiff drink and sank back into her armchair. Her presence would not be expected for today. Tomorrow she would begin preparations for her father’s funeral and once that was done she would have to start planning her coronation. Her planned marriage would be expected after that. She found she was suddenly less angered by it.
She poured herself another drink to stop her shaking hands when she wondered how the decanter had gotten to the table when she hadn’t gone to the cabinet to get it.
To Anjali’s surprise she was alive. Or at least she presumed she was still alive, for she was still clutching the little girl. But things felt different, she couldn’t feel her legs. Then she remembered she had lost them. Just like the little girl.
She realised she was underwater. She strove upwards to reach the surface, suddenly fearing for air. She moved surprisingly quickly, despite having no legs and having her arms full. Then her eyes adjusted to the water.
She nearly screamed, in her hands she held a baby Naga. Then she saw her own arms, her own four arms, holding the baby Naga. The little Naga also had four arms. She was more serpentine than the myths usually said, she was completely serpentine from the waist down, her black-green coils drifting gently in the water. Above the waist, the child was distinctly more humanoid, though with four arms. Her skin was also green-black. Her long black hair floated freely in the water, her face despite its colouring looked Human. Her little eyes were closed in sleep.
Then she looked down at herself and saw the same green-black coils, though far longer than the child’s. She was a Naga, no a Nagini. One of the legendary serpent princesses.
There were others in the water as well, swimming upwards from the dark dept
hs towards the sunlight above.
She slowly raised her head from the water, worrying that it might still be the Indus, despite the inexplicable changes to herself. It was a bright sunny day, it shone brightly on her dark skin as she looked around at the other Naga. They were not all the same, some had four arms others two. There was also a range of colours reflecting the natural array of serpents. There were very few like herself. She wondered if that meant something.
Also in the water were other Naga, if they were still to be classed as such. They were very large serpents, as long as several men. Their sinuous bodies twisted about in what she thought was desperate confusion.
She turned her attention to the river banks and was surprised to recognise the distinctive steps of Varanasi. She was in the Ganges. Standing on the banks was a six-winged woman glowing softly, beside her stood a man in green robes. They both stood out from the crowd because they were both remarkably pale skinned beside the natives of the Subcontinent.
The Naga nearest the stairs climbed and slithered out of the water. As she slowly swam over, she watched the proceedings. The Humans stared stunned at the emerging Naga, but their attention continually flicked back to the winged woman. Who was she?
What was even more curious was that the Naga, who climbed up out of the water prostrated themselves before the winged woman. She flicked her hands, and people came forward to lead the Naga away. They left with blankly awed faces.
She was hesitant to go to shore but what choice did she have.
As she awkwardly slithered up the steps the little girl, she was holding woke up crying. She gently rocked the child, she’d had very little contact with children, she had no idea what to do. It did, however, catch the attention of the winged woman. She pointed at Anjali, then curled her finger, beckoning. Feeling very self-conscious in front of everyone she slid over to the woman.
“Thank you Anjali,” she said as she gently lifted the little girl up. It fell quiet instantly and to Anjali’s surprise a hood like a cobra’s spread around her neck. It was covered in strange markings. She gently rubbed the girl’s chin, and she giggled, her forked tongue flicking in and out.
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