The Angels' Pride

by Steven Lindsay

  Once again she hurried on to the next circle, wondering how many circles the Fraud Level had.

  The seventh circle was not ditches but sheer ravines. A thin winding path hugged close to the walls of crumbling shale. The ravine disappeared into the darkness, parts of the cliff faces crumbling off and falling down into the darkness. Everywhere she looked there were shards of rocks forming lethal obstacles. But the gorges were not uninhabited, screams and inhuman shrieks filled the air, echoing off the walls. The walls themselves were thick with snakes and lizards of all sizes, regularly snapping and biting the people trapped in the ravine. Every time they bit someone the person screamed in agony, grabbing at the bite, ripping their skin in their desperate attempt to stop the pain.

  They didn’t succeed.

  Those who were bitten transformed as the venom spread. Then they withered into ashes, before finally returning to their original form. Only to be bitten again and again.

  She stood transfixed in horrified curiosity as one man changed into a six-legged reptile before bursting into flames then reappearing. Another woman transformed into a chimeric being, above the waist she remained Human but below she had developed into an octopus. Her tentacles fought for purchase on the sharp rocks to no avail. She slid down the sharp flint, tearing her soft cephalopod body apart. She slid out of sight as she fell into the darkness, her screams ceased sometime after.

  She decided it would be prudent to fly through the ravine rather than traipsing through the writhing forms of tortured souls and reptiles.

  She flew through several ravines that intersected each other before several sets of crumbling stairs led back up onto the sand dunes that divided all the circles. She continued to fly over the dunes until she reached the flames of the eighth circle.

  She continued to fly over the flames her keen Angel eyesight picking out the bodies in the flames. What stood out the most was the large wooden horse rising above the flames. It was bathed in green flames, the hottest flames bathing the man strapped to its snout. The uniqueness of his torture confused her, what crime was so great that he gained special torment? Curious she probed him. He was Odysseus, an ancient king, a brilliant general, who had had won the Trojan War by using the Trojan Horse. He had endured a ten-year odyssey to get home, cursed by Poseidon. He had been a hero. Naturally going to the Elysium Fields where he had resided in peace until he had been ripped out of Hades and cast into Hell. Now he was punished for being a betrayer.

  It seemed strange that he should be damned to such a place when back in his time he was applauded as a genius. Even the Trojans had resentfully admitted his plan was brilliant. In the modern era, he was revered as a brilliant general. Yet because of Dante, he was condemned as a deceitful adviser who had led Agamemnon astray.

  He wearily looked up in surprise as rain extinguished the flames that had continuously burned him for centuries. All the green flames licking up the Trojan Horse were extinguished. To his even greater surprise, the chains binding him snapped open, and he started to fall. Was this it? Was this the end?

  He disappeared before he hit the ground. Sariel smiled despite herself, she just couldn’t leave an injustice alone. So much for using as little magic as possible. Thankfully she had been able to cast him out of Hell. Hades had a far stronger call on him than Hell, modern thinking did not agree with Dante. He would be able to return to the Elysium Fields. Hopefully, he would be able to recover from his centuries of torture. He would also be able to tell her family she was still alive.

  The ninth circle was filled with sword wielding Demons, their grey hulking forms looming in and out of the gloom. Their great blades swung back and forth, hacking apart bodies as they moved slowly through the masses. What was surprising was that there were notably more females than males in the area.

  What was even more surprising was the ray of sunlight that shone on a bare spot of rock that was covered in blood.

  Once again curious, everything in here made her curious for so much of it was beyond her understanding, she probed the area. It reeked of patriarchal sexism and female fury. It was the Discord area of Fraud. The sexist, patriarchal views of Man through the millennia believed that women sowed discord among men. It was a belief firmly entrenched within the Angelic Religions, one only had to look at Adam and Eve. She could not understand how Gabriel and the other female Angels had allowed such sexist religions to spread across the Earth like cancer. Then again the Elder Angels had no care of Humanity and their plight, it didn’t matter what occurred so long as they believed in God.

  She felt sorry for the women of the past and those still trapped in backwards societies. She couldn’t imagine being held back and always being judged inferior because of her gender. The Angels were completely equal when it came to gender, sure there with differences in body shape but physical and magical strength were not affected by gender. Gabriel was the most magically gifted Angel there had ever been, she had a feeling she was now too.

  The Angels were truly equal when it came to gender, though not class.

  The ray of sunlight was an even greater enigma. Upon probing the magical signatures, she became even more confused. She recognised both Gabriel and Mohammed’s traces. How on earth had Mohammed ended up in Hell? He was the holiest man in all of Islam, the one true Prophet and one of the loyalist servants the Angels had ever had.

  She landed on the rock, thankful she was still invisible. Her hands traced the old blood stains, pulling out the story within. Once again Dante was to blame. In the eyes of Christians, Muslims were lost souls or just plain evil. This was a mindset deeply entrenched when Dante had made his way through Hell to shape it. Viewing Islam in a very negative light he and his fellow Christians had believed that Mohammed was one of the greatest creators of discord. It had earned him special punishment in the Discord Circle. From the magical traces, the Arch Angels had expelled quite a bit of power to extract him from Hell.

  She wondered that if they knew she was down here if they would be able to do the same.

  She immediately felt sorry for Mohammed, his blood had been shed while he had been tortured. She wondered how long it had taken for them to save him. She also wondered if he had sought his revenge on Dante when he had died.

  She took flight, flying on to the next Circle. It was merely a downwards slant covered in sick people. Living in Heaven she had never seen sickness or disease, Divine beings were immune to all sicknesses. But her time in Hades had educated her to the troubles of the mortal world. She now knew about various diseases and how they killed. What was before her was a far wider array than she had learned about. There were various poxes, venereal diseases, fevers, cancers and a whole manner of others. People were bent double, coughing and vomiting up blood, peoples’ legs were slick with bloody diarrhoea, skins were buckled, pox-marked, oozing, bleeding. People had blood running from their eyes, skin peeling off, even body parts were falling off of some.

  The stench of sickness was overwhelming in the air.

  How on Earth had Dante imagined such things? A sweep of the area told her that these were all natural diseases, mortals had suffered from each of the diseases before her. This was a natural part of life. It was terrifying. She was suddenly very grateful to be an Angel, she had never overly appreciated the benefits of being Divine, but now she would never forget.

  There was nothing she could do for them. They were after all already dead and her own time was running out. Her magic was starting to become erratic and slipping beyond her control. Soon she would probably lose her invisibility.

  She flew quickly onwards towards the Ninth and last Level of Hell. She could make it, she would make it.

  She flew down a very sharp decline, this was the border between the two Levels as opposed to the usual cliffs. Within the gloom figures loomed and faded but rising above the gloom was a mountain. It was the gigantic stalagmite that was the exit of Hell, it was also the Lair of Lucifer. She could see the gap between the stalactite and stalagmite glowing.

 
She was so close to the end.

  Odysseus slowly came awake and to his complete surprise felt no pain. When he opened his eyes, there were no flames, no smoke, no darkness, only soft sunlight. There was not the roar of flames licking over his skin and the wooden horse he had been attached to for centuries. There was only the sound of running water and distant laughter.

  He heard footsteps approaching but didn’t have the strength to even move. He was exhausted, his limbs and body weight too much for him to move them. He had barely moved them for centuries, only weakly struggling against his chains.

  “Odysseus?” a woman’s voice asked. He couldn’t see her, his eyes were still unfocused.

  He felt a cool and gentle hand grab his face “yes it is” she said more to herself than to him.

  He was suddenly weightless, and the light disappeared. He was now somewhere different, the light faded to a soft twilight, and now there were many voices nearby.

  “Why have you brought a shade within the castle Nemesis?” a man with a deep, compelling voice asked.

  “This is Odysseus, he has returned from Hell.” He felt a slight surge of pain from her touch then he could see again. He was in Hades castle, spread eagle across the floor before the thrones of Hades and Persephone. A beautiful black haired Goddess was kneeling over him. “What level of Hell were you trapped in?” she asked him with desperation.

  He stared back at her not comprehending what she was saying.

  She grabbed his face with both hands, her amethyst eyes pinning him to the floor. It felt like she had stripped him of every defence and was staring right into his soul. She probably was.

  “It is very important that you remember where in Hell you were.” They had no idea where Sariel was up to, last they had known was that she had passed through the Gates of Dis sending the Furies back to Hades.

  “The Horse, on the Horse” he muttered.

  Hecate looked around at the others rolling her eyes. A dark shadow swept down from the nearest window, spreading across the floor like ink before solidifying as a shadow cut-out of a woman. She swept her hands across his face then grabbed his shoulders “Where is Sariel? Is she well?” she demanded as she shook him violently.

  He mumbled incoherently as she shook him.

  “We know she got past the Fifth Level,” said Alecto “And believe me the powers she unleashed shook Hell. She stripped the Curse from us, Medusa and the Fallen Angels on the wall top. She had already stripped Leviathan, Lilith, and Naamah of their Curses. We have no need to worry about her safety.”

  They had already heard Minos, Cerberus and the Furies accounts of Sariel’s actions in Hell, but her family couldn’t help but worry. Thanatos had ceased speaking to them all, his powers a constant blanket around him that no one, not even Nyx or Hypnos were willing to interact with. They all bore his silent condemnation as their long forgotten sense of guilt gnawed at them.

  “Fraud” Odysseus muttered.

  Nyx snapped her dark eyes back towards him, moving lightning fast to sweep her hands up to his face and plunging her fingers into his brain. He shuddered as she extracted his memories.

  “He was in the Eighth Level, Fraud. From his memories and my estimation he was near the end of the Level. He was chained to the Trojan Horse and burned.” She fell silent as she moved through his memories “He never saw Sariel, but I can sense her presence. She is strong, so strong. She set him free, she sent him back here.”

  “Near the end of the Eighth Level, she is close to finishing her task.” Hecate mused as she appeared next to the table covered in maps, drawings, and lists of Dante’s Inferno. Her fingers traced the last descent to the bottom of Hell “That is, of course, presuming Hell is completely to Dante’s design. We could be wrong in our beliefs.”

  “She has survived every Level so far with a grace and power we could not have believed. Her powers are incredible. She will be fine.” Cerberus added to alleviate their concerns. He was of no doubt she would succeed. He had seen her strip the Curse from Behemoth and free Tiamat and Bahamut.

  Thanatos turned from the window he was staring out of “She had better be fine, or I will never forgive any of you.” He disappeared in a burst of black flames.

  An ominous feeling settled over all of them. Would any of them be able to forgive themselves?

  Chapter 38

  She slowed her approach as she neared the final Level cliff. Beyond she would dive down into the last Level of Hell, treachery. Yet it was guarded by giants looming out of the gloom. They seemed impossibly large, for she could only see them from the waist up but then what wasn’t possible in Hell? They were formidable looking males, but also wearied. Their bodies were scarred from whips and claws. Being Guardians offered no safety. Their greasy hair and beards fell in a cascade that disappeared behind the cliff.

  She flew past them as silently as she could, glad that her invisibility was holding up. They never even noticed her passing.

  To her amusement, she saw that they were not as gigantic as she had first thought. They were standing on ledges carved into the cliff face. She was glad she could fly down the cliff, she would not have wanted to navigate between their feet during her descent.

  She dove down into Treachery, staying close to the cliff before alighting on the outer ring of ice. For some reason, she knew that there were four concentric rings, yet she could only see one, the rest must be under the stalactite. The one she was standing on disappeared underneath it.

  She eyed up the stalagmite contemplating flying up directly to the Lair but decided against it. Row upon row upon row of Demons nested all over its surface, and fierce storms plagued it. She could feel the winds tugging at her where she stood, flying up through that would be suicide. She would have to pass through the whole Level underneath the Great Stalagmite.

  A great boom filled the air causing her to jump. Fire and lightning raced around the air, superheating it within seconds. There was no way she could safely pass up that way.

  She glided silently over the ice until she passed into the eerie glow of the caverns.

  The first zone contained those immersed up to their faces, they were the only part of their bodies showing above the ice. Fierce winds blew across the ice, covering the faces in layers of ice that cracked off, peeling parts of their faces with it. She was forced to land for fear of being blown against the cavern walls. The winds ceased, then resumed. She rushed forward when the winds died and stilled when they blew again. There seemed to be no pattern to the winds, they appeared random.

  She hurried across the ice, half running, half slipping and occasionally having to jump over frozen faces. The faces disturbed her, their eyes the only thing that moved, following her as she ran across the ice.

  It didn’t take her long to reach the second ring, the border between them was only a thin and low line of black rock, akin to the black rock that composed the stalagmite towering over her. The cavern above her flattened, broken only occasionally by a stalactite. The winds, however, had gotten stronger, roaring through the enclosed space, covering the Damned in fresh layers of ice. It crunched beneath her boots as she struggled against the strong winds.

  By the time she reached the third zone the ceiling was starting to curve upwards around another huge stalagmite that broke up from the smooth ice in the distance. Once again the two zones were only separated by a small wall of black rock.

  The people of the third zone were immersed in the ice on their backs, only the thinnest section of their faces was uncovered. Their skin was deathly pale, their lips blue and unmoving. The winds blew harder still, filled with shards of ice that scoured the surface of the zone and battered against her shields. What was exposed of the Damned was regularly ripped to shreds by the ice fragments.

  It took her far longer to reach the fourth zone because of the winds, they had gotten stronger the further she had progressed. By the time she crossed the low stone wall the winds were a tempest, raging down from above, winding around the stalagmite before spli
ntering off in all directions across the ice. Each step was a small battle against the winds, and the ice here was smooth and unbroken making it harder still. The Damned were now fully immersed in the ice, their bodies twisted into strange and painful positions.

  She spared little thought for them as she pushed onwards against the wind.

  She reached the base of the stalagmite, wandering around it until she found crude stairs carved into its face. Crude was an understatement, they were uneven, crumbling and wound back and forth across the stalagmite in the most demented fashion. They seemed to follow no logical mindset. Whoever had carved them had either been mad or a terrible craftsman.

  She squared her shoulders and waited for a break in the wind before she started her ascent. When the break came, she hauled herself upwards, clinging to the demented staircase for dear life as the winds erupted downwards again. Painstakingly slowly, she hauled herself upwards towards the shaft the stalagmite speared upwards into, the frozen lake falling behind until there was only the black shaft in both directions. It was softly lit from some unknown source. As she climbed the stalagmite fused into the walls, leaving but one thin shaft to climb into. The winds pouring down nearly succeeded on more than one occasion to rip her from the stairs.

  She clung to the stairs with all her might as the winds continued to blow, relenting only rarely. It was in these brief periods that she struggled to climb as much as she could before the winds started up again. It was made more difficult by the thin layers of ice that now permanently coated the shaft.