by Jorge Silva
There were still four of them, although they seemed less sure that it had been wise to attack him. Gabriel freed the spear and turned it, and the fire at its point formed a circle around him. Through a series of small attacks that took mere seconds, the rest of his opponents were rendered immobile on the ground.
He heard Cerviel’s laugh, deep and rough. Around them were the bodies of dozens of angels, some with their heads split open, the majority missing some extremity; all with their bodies broken.
“I don’t think there will be another revolt any time soon,” said Cerviel, clapping Gabriel hard on the back in a gesture of camaraderie.
Gabriel, still bewildered by what had just happened, said nothing. Seeing the bodies on the ground he thought of something that he’d have to find out as soon as possible. What happened to angels when they died?
They returned to the Heptagon together. Cerviel waited to speak until he returned to his black cube.
“Gabriel was unable to invoke his sword. I suspect that the soul of the mortal is hindering the Phoenix.” Clearly, their camaraderie had ended.
Raphael opened his mouth to speak, but Uriel spoke first.
“It’s possible. The souls of mortals are too chaotic to be able to carry out His Word.”
“I hope you aren’t proposing Oblivion,” said Raphael, looking over at Azrael with worry in his eyes.
Uriel ran a hand through her hair.
“We should be grateful of the soul that brought the Phoenix back to Otherworld. But now it’s nothing more than an impediment to the archangel returning to his proper place as a member of the Seven. Not only is he unable to call on his sword, but until he’s free of the mortal’s soul, he won’t be able to hear His Word.”
Raphael asked, “Do you understand what is being proposed?”
Gabriel shook his head.
“As you know, your body is guarded by a squad of angels. Your soul has merged with that of the Phoenix, and it’s that combination which is present here in Otherworld.” Gabriel still didn’t understand, so Raphael continued. “If your body isn’t here, what remains of your human soul in this place?”
Gabriel felt like he was in philosophy class again. Even though it had only been a few days, he felt as though there had been an eternity between his school life and his current one. Yet this time, the answer was of much greater interest to him.
“If you were to forget everything that makes you human, all of your memories, and only those of the Phoenix were to remain, what of the human would be left in you?”
He finally understood, but it was too late. In a single imperceptible movement Cerviel grabbed Gabriel by the wrists and lifted him from the cube. He threw him against the hard floor with ease; putting a knee to Gabriel’s neck, he prevented him from getting up. Uriel approached and, as she placed her hand over his eyes, it started to glow. The excruciating pain he felt announced that she had begun to grant him Oblivion.
He remembered the time that his parents had taken him out for ice-cream, and that he had been able to choose whichever flavor and size he wanted. It was the last time that the three of them had spent an afternoon as family, and their laughter now filled his ears. In an instant the image changed, and another memory surfaced his mind, although he once more had an ice-cream in his hand. This time Emily was by his side, both of them seated in the schoolyard talking about what to name the band. He felt a heat rise in his cheeks that was extinguished as the image faded. He understood that those memories were being eradicated by Uriel’s Light, lost forever in Oblivion.
Gabriel still didn’t know who was on his side, but one of those present had always protected him. He wasn’t sure if the Archangel of Death could overcome two of his kind, even if he had had his hands free, but he was sure about one thing. That detail wouldn’t keep him from trying. He cried out loudly, “Azrael, help me!”
The sound of his cry echoed through the room; Gabriel saw Azrael throw himself against Uriel, causing her to fall. It had been a movement so unexpected that no one could prevent it. Even though he was still trapped by Cerviel, the agony that Gabriel had felt upon contact with Uriel’s hand was now gone.
Cerviel jumped up and called forth his hammer yet again. He attacked Azrael, but a bronze staff, crowned with a liquid orb, blocked the strike. Raphael had summoned it to protect the Archangel of Death.
Turning to Gabriel, Raphael yelled “Return to your body. Now!” as he continued to fend off Cerviel’s attacks.
Uriel got to her feet and, calling forth a rapier as luminous as her armor, she moved towards Azrael with a menacing gait. When she attacked him, the Archangel of Death blocked her weapon with his chains. She watched in surprise as they shattered to pieces, leaving the archangel’s hands free.
Gabriel didn’t know how to return to his body. He had arrived in Otherworld thanks to Tiberias’ dagger, but he had a feeling that the way to liberate his soul from his body wasn’t the same way to return to it.
Before Uriel approached him to continue her task, Azrael stepped between them, this time with his flaming sword in hand.
Without taking his eyes from Cerviel, Raphael spoke to Gabriel. “Can you remember your body? Could you dream of it?”
He understood. Not only how to return, but which of the Seven was Mr. Galen. Now he understood why he’d shown him the piece of paper in his office.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on the last memory he had of his body, when he had seen it taken by Shadows. He thought about Tiberias, chained and waiting for their return. He tried with all of his might to focus on those memories.
Before Uriel could reach him, Gabriel’s soul and that of the Phoenix disappeared in a flash of light.
While he descended to the human Realm, he couldn’t help but think about what would happen to Azrael and Raphael, who had to confront the fury of the other two archangels who had inadvertently disobeyed God by allowing the escape of the Phoenix.
10
“Gabriel? Gabrieeeel? Wake up, you have to go to school.”
His father was standing at the door to his room. Gabriel pulled the sheets over his head, trying to stay in bed for as long as possible.
He didn’t want to get up, he was so comfortable there. Even knowing his mother had gotten up early to turn on the heat, so it wouldn’t be so chilly when he got up, hadn’t convinced him leaving his warm bed was a good idea.
Suddenly something cold had a hold of his feet. His father had put his hands under the covers to grab them, and they both started laughing as he squirmed to get them back. It was a game they’d played since he was a child and, when his mother came into the room, she joined in the fun and began to tickle him. Gabriel laughed until he lost his breath.
He woke up then, gasping for air as though he’d been drowning. He sensed his arms, his legs, his chest. His heart beat forcefully. A tear ran down his cheek, and he silently cursed the dream that brought the memory of something forever lost. He tried to sit up, but he was wrapped firmly in chains.
“Thanks for coming back.”
Turning his head, he saw Tiberias standing against the wall, shackled to the ceiling. His body was covered in wounds, and there was blood everywhere. A blindfold covered his eyes.
“Is Azrael coming?” he asked.
Gabriel described his last few moments in Purgatory, how the Archangel of Death, together with Raphael, had tried to save him, but by doing so had infuriated the other two archangels.
Tiberias sighed. “Then everything is lost.”
“I thought angels were good. That God was good,” said Gabriel. The conversation in the Heptagon and the searing hand of Uriel over his eyes were still fresh in his mind.
Tiberias’ laughter echoed through the cell.
“Pure propaganda. Good and bad are human categories, they don’t apply to the Elohim. Neither He nor She are good or bad. They simply are.
“If you were to read some of the scrolls in the Library, you would see how He has destroyed millions of lives. Floods,
plagues, even whole cities turned to dust to punish Lucifer. All of it simply because His Word had not been carried out.”
“I didn’t get to those scrolls,” Gabriel told him. He explained that Uriel had taken him to the Library and had allowed him to read about what happened between Azrael and the Archangel Gabriel.
“Is the betrayal true?”
“Everything that is recorded in the Library is true, but what you read is only an infinitesimal part of what happened, and it’s not difficult to be confused when you only know a small piece of the truth.”
“But if God isn’t good, why did we risk going to Otherworld?”
Before Tiberias could reply, a pair of Shadows came into the cell. He could see they both carried spears.
When they saw Gabriel awake they left the cell running. “We must alert the Heptagon that the Phoenix has returned!” he could hear one shout as they ran.
Gabriel tried to free himself from his chains, but he was held fast.
“We have to escape,” he said, with the hope that Tiberias might know of some way out.
“You can’t return to Otherworld, unless you wish for Oblivion and, in this Realm, the Shadows have you. You have only one alternative.”
Gabriel’s mouth went dry. He knew what Tiberias meant. There was only one way to escape the celestial hosts, one place they could not go but that he could travel.
“I don’t know how to go to Hell,” Gabriel said.
“How did you manage to get back here?” asked Tiberias.
“Mr. Galen, I mean the Archangel Raphael, told me to remember my body.”
Memory, recollections, those were what made him continue to be himself, to be human. The very things that Uriel had tried to take from him. He sometimes forgot that he wasn’t the archangel, that Azrael hadn’t betrayed him, but rather the one whose soul he carried.
“But I don’t have memories of Hell.”
“You don’t, but the Phoenix does. You should try to remember.”
Gabriel closed his eyes, attempting to think about Hell. The images that he had seen in movies or read in books came to mind, but nothing that came from the memory of the Phoenix.
“Let me see if I can refresh your memory.”
Tiberias then began to tell the story of the First War, Armageddon.
“It was Azrael that told me all of this, many years ago. It took him centuries to trust me enough to share his story,” said Tiberias, smiling. “Yahweh had split His soul in two and with one half He created the Seven. Their purpose was to carry out His Word. It was the only way that He saw to extinguish suffering in Creation. An end to all sadness, an end to all pain.”
“I’ve been hearing about the importance of His Word for days now,” said Gabriel. “But I still don’t understand what it is. What’s His plan? What is it that God wants?”
Tiberias, despite being chained up and badly injured, laughed again.
“I ask myself the same thing. As far as I know, only the archangels have ever heard His Word. The rest of us only know our missions.
“But we must focus on Hell, to see if I can stir some memory in you,” said Tiberias, continuing the story. “Lucifer, searching for freedom, had created Her own Realm. Once the planet She formed was ready to receive them, She split Her soul in two. Keeping half for Herself, She created Her children from what remained, each one holding a piece of Her soul within them.”
“Half the soul of God was split between seven archangels, and half of the soul of Lucifer was split between the first two humans, and all the rest that would come?” asked Gabriel, incredulous.
“Indeed; which explains the difference between humans and the Seven. How much of the Elohim do you think the humans really have within them if they carry just a tiny fraction of Lucifer’s soul?
“And yet,” continued Tiberias, “to Yahweh the humans represented a major threat. Even though their souls were radically inferior, they were granted freedom, and there was something in them that distanced them from His Word. Different theories about His disfavor have come forth over the centuries. Is it because of the human’s tendency to fight among themselves? Is it their propensity for feeding themselves with substances that soil their bodies and drinks that make them lose their ability to reason?”
Gabriel noticed a touch of irony in Tiberias’ voice.
“I think not. I think that what bothered Him was that Lucifer had given humans the ability to create other beings like themselves. That right had been exclusive to the Elohim, and She had given it to Her children along with Her soul.
“Lucifer valued freedom above all other things, and She allowed Her children to use the gift they had been given however they saw fit. There was something humble in Her stance. Why should Her ideas, Her plan, Her word, be worth more than any other? Even if it meant a better future for Her Realm, wasn’t it arrogant to think that Her opinion about what was better should take precedence? Lucifer could be many things, but She was not proud. Above all, She had the hope that Her children would make their Realm into something more beautiful than She could have dreamed. She trusted them. If we survive this, I will tell you about Her disappointment and how She came to ask Azrael for help.”
“The Archangel of Death?” asked Gabriel, surprised by the alliance.
“At that time Azrael was the Archangel of Justice. Unlike the humans, who have freedom to choose what they do with their lives, each of the Seven was created with a mission. Each one was a cog in the machinery needed to carry out His Word. There was Light in Otherworld thanks to Uriel’s mission, Justice existed thanks to Azrael. But the creation of Lucifer’s children made change necessary. Something that surely infuriated Yahweh.
“Azrael told me that Yahweh requested his presence in the Throne Room. When he entered, his six siblings remained outside, unsure of what to think. It was the first time that one of them had been called for an audience with Him, alone.
“When Azrael exited the Room, Justice no longer remained in Creation. His siblings saw that a hooded tunic now covered his features and part of his grey armor. From that moment on, Azrael was the Archangel of Death, leaving no guardian to ensure that what happened in Creation was just.
“When the humans claim that life isn’t fair, they’re right, to a degree. The ones who believe that there is a divine plan, something that makes what happens just, they’re wrong. Yahweh erased justice with one hand, and with the other He brought Death into Creation, to exterminate human beings.
“I didn’t know Azrael when his mission was still Justice. In fact, I didn’t even exist back then,” said Tiberias. “But he has confessed to me that, since his mission was replaced with Death, something in him has changed. It was impossible that it not be so. Eyes opened or shut, ever since then, he sees every death. Every man, woman, and child that disappears from this Realm does so through his mere existence.
“I’ve never said as much to Azrael, but I believe that since the change in his mission, he has worn the hood to conceal what he feels while carrying Death with him.
“The Seven then descended to the Realm of humans. But this time would be different from other visits. Yahweh had been clear; they should exterminate them. The humans would die.
“When they arrived at the first city, they were welcomed with praise; the humans celebrated their return and treated them like gods, as was the custom. The mood quickly changed, however, as one of the Seven raised a giant hammer and sent a dozen of the people nearest him flying through the air.
“The humans tried to flee, but the Seven annihilated them with little effort. Their minuscule souls could do nothing to defend them.
“She appeared then. Lucifer, wrapped in a silver armor that shone almost as brightly as Her eyes. Perhaps She understood why Yahweh had decided to exterminate Her children. Perhaps not.
“But She didn’t need a reason to defend them. Lucifer called forth a sword in each hand and, with a strength that matched the Seven combined, she began to repel their attack.
“Wh
ile She fought against Cerviel and Ramiel, Lucifer witnessed Death for the first time when one of Her children disappeared from Creation. As the humans fell in combat, Azrael would place his hand over them, and all that they were was consumed in his fire. All the free choices that had made them who they are, their identities, all of their memories, all of the matter that tied them to this world, was erased by Death.
“Lucifer was livid. Her wrath generated a whirlwind that carried Cerviel and Ramiel away. She could not allow the creations of Her children to be obliterated. For Her, there was nothing more precious than what Her children did with their freedom. Nothing was more important to Her, not even Herself.
“Up until that moment, Lucifer had been equal to Yahweh, each of them had given half of their souls to create their respective children: the Seven and the humans.
“But she split Her soul in two once more. She kept half for Herself, and with the remainder She fashioned a sanctuary, where the human souls could hide from Death.
“It was the last reward to Her children. A consolation for having lost their bodies. A place where they could keep their memories, their identities and their freedom. Where Yahweh and His children could never enter without her permission. She called it Paradise.
“Azrael placed his hand, wrapped in the fire that allowed him to carry out his mission, over the next opponent. Suddenly he felt a change; when the fire touched the fallen, he no longer felt them disappear from Creation. He simply felt them fade to another place, far away and out of his reach.
“He looked up and saw Lucifer on Her knees in the middle of the battlefield. She was gasping for air. He hadn’t seen what brought Her down, but he sensed a shift in Her. She was still stronger than any of the Seven, but She was no longer Yahweh’s equal.
“When the Phoenix was merged with another human, do you know what he said to me about Lucifer?” He said that She had long been known as the most beautiful in all Creation. But the division of Her soul, and the loss of half Her power through Her own volition, added a vulnerability that made Her beautiful beyond reckoning.