by J F Cain
He started the engine and followed the driveway, his mind always on Aranes. He didn’t like leaving her alone, but the truth was that he needed some time away from her so he could think without distractions. Every touch, any physical contact with her, affected his judgment. And that sometimes undermined his manhood, because he still felt like a human man.
He had turned into the Dark Angel Abaddon eight months earlier, but the memories of his true nature had yet to be restored. He was an incarnated Angel with supernatural powers and a human consciousness, a combination that scared many, sometimes even him. Those were the times when he wondered what he would do if he lost Aranes or if the Eternal Source decided to take her from him. He had no other fear, except being separated from her. At night, when he stayed awake holding the worlds’ most precious being in his arms, ready to protect her from any Demon attack, he felt very selfish, because he didn’t want to lose the entity that represented the ultimate expression of love. He wasn’t without a conscience; he could accept sharing her with humanity, but never going completely without her. If that should happen, he would go against even the will of the Supreme Authority of the worlds.
He wondered what the matter was with Aranes.
A week before, claiming that she had to get the baby’s room ready, she had stopped coming with him to the office. That was very strange for someone who had been making the most of her time on Earth in order to improve people’s lives as much as possible through his company and its funds. Strangely, her lack of appetite had also begun a few days ago. Anyone else would think it completely normal for her to withdraw in her last month of pregnancy. But he knew that she wouldn’t abandon her work unless there was a very serious reason. What was worrying her? Or rather, what could be so serious that it would shake her eternal calm? Aranes always thought and acted as the leader of Elether. She handled issues that arose with a cool head and never betrayed any unease. The only time he had ever seen her upset was eight months ago, when Lucifer had attempted to kill him. But humanity’s future had been at stake then. His death might have negated the prophecy, and she was expecting him to defeat the Lord of Darkness and rid the human race of his dark influence for a long time.
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason. She was bound to him by a profound love that had traversed eternity untouched by adversities and the hostility of those who knew about it, a love that had at last been consummated on the earthly plane. Abaddon never doubted his partner’s love for him, but he didn’t know what she would do if she was forced to choose between him and humanity. He didn’t want to think of that likelihood. Whenever it crossed his mind, he would push it aside. He would remind himself that the Superior of the Angels possessed a vast, complex intelligence and could solve any problem, finding the best outcome. She has proved that she could always find a way to protect him, and at their wedding she had sworn to do everything in her power to keep his soul at her side. It made him believe that she would never abandon him.
That’s probably what’s the matter. Aranes is worried about me, Abaddon told himself. She also sensed that things would soon be coming to a head, and maybe she was afraid that her partner wouldn’t be able to cope with attacks from both Demons and Cursed attempting to capture her and their child. But why would she be worried about that? When Lucifer had made the mistake of abducting her, the Source had sent the mightiest Celestials to help him get her back from Eregkal. It was rather unlikely that It would leave the Superior and her child in the clutches of the dark forces, since merely their blood was enough to overturn all physical laws. Or wasn’t it that unlikely?
After that incident, the Celestials seemed to have abandoned them. And so had Gabriel, his best friend and supporter throughout his existence, both ethereal and human. Was it because there was no need and he had evolved into a powerful entity that could protect his family? Or were they sending the message that they wouldn’t be coming to his aid again? Yet Aranes trusted the Guiding Mind; she would never think that It would abandon her. So she was likely worried about him, but for a different reason. What was it?
The symbol on Aranes’ nape was a completely personal channel of communication between her and the Source. Had It sent her a message? And if so, what could it have been? His partner wouldn’t tell him anything so as not to upset him and she would look for a solution on her own. She had kept her ethereal consciousness, and her intelligence was infinitely superior to his. But why leave him out of the problem? Was it because he shouldn’t know about it? If so, then it was something grave and most probably concerned their relationship.
Abaddon stopped in front of the mansion’s gate, waiting for it to open, and his mind paused on that thought, as if he had suddenly stumbled on the truth.
Aranes is afraid of how I’ll react to a possible separation! he realized, overcome by a feeling of disquietude mingled with terror. Whether she had received a message from the Source or picked up on some signs herself, the outcome was the same—she knew something was going to happen to their relationship. She knew about his fear of losing her and that’s why she wasn’t saying anything. She wanted to keep him calm at a time that promised to be difficult.
Abaddon kept his foot on the break and waited for his intuition to answer him. Why was it silent? Was it because the Source was the inner power that gave him his hunches and guided him? A while back, It had used this method to assure him that It would let them live together on Earth, but It hadn’t specified for how long. Had he done something that displeased It, or had his and Aranes’ time to live their love run out? Had the time come for him to make the prophecy come true and for them to return to Elether? Aranes had told him that their relationship might change there, and he was definitely not on board with that!
“Please, talk to me,” he said anxiously, and then remembered that someone might be watching him. Tell me what I did wrong and I’ll fix it. Just don’t take her away from me, he pleaded silently.
He listened for an inner voice or a sensation that would reveal Its will, but there was no sign, nothing to make him believe that It was listening.
Talk to me, he begged again. Tell me what you want me to do and I will do it.
There was no answer from the beyond. Abaddon closed his eyes and took a deep breath to control the anger that began to grow inside him, the result of the despair that had overtaken him. He let out a deep breath, opened his eyes again and stared ahead blankly. He didn’t see the double iron gate that had slid open into the tall hedge of tended bushes, nor the tree-lined street beyond it. He just saw an empty life without Aranes.
How do you expect me to make it without her help? he asked the Supreme Authority, defeated. You know I’m lost without her.
The drawn-out silence filling his mind ratcheted up his irritation. He wanted to vent his anger somewhere but didn’t know where. He gripped the steering wheel tightly. Under his palms, the leather began to burn and smoke. That brought him to his senses. He took his hands off the wheel, rested them on his knees and tried to gain control of himself.
Don’t get carried away by your fear, he chastised himself. This might be one of the Source’s tests. It might be trying to test your faith. That wouldn’t be so strange. Aranes has told you that It does it often.
That was a serious problem. The Source had every reason to doubt his faith and the promises he had made It. After so many months of training in transcendental knowledge, he still hadn’t grasped what precisely the Supreme Authority of the worlds was. He had never seen It and had never clearly heard Its voice—his intuition came in the form of a certain sense of something. He showed It respect, but not the awe that the Celestials and Guardians showed It. He spoke to It as he would speak to any being whose value and superiority he acknowledged. He claimed Its precious daughter, offering—admittedly valuable—things in exchange and made deals with It, just as he did in his work, the only difference being that those deals were based on both parties’ good faith. It made sense that It would want to test his faith. But why do it? Because he
had had the thought that if It took Aranes away from him, he would even pit himself against It? Because It wanted to see if he had the mettle to fight the Lord of Darkness? Both of these things, or something else?
The first reason sufficed. It was sheer arrogance to challenge the Source and believe that you could face It as an equal. Lucifer had done that very thing and everyone knew where he had ended up. But Aranes often reminded him that the Supreme Authority was nothing like the humans’ vengeful God, so It wouldn’t be doing this to put him in his place. It was probably aiming for the opposite. To push him out of the position his human consciousness was keeping him in and to propel him toward a higher spiritual plane. To elevate him to his celestial nature—a nature whose purpose was sacrifice and service. Abaddon new he had to make serious sacrifices to keep Aranes and he had promised the Source that he would do anything It asked. From what he could see, the time had come to keep his word. So he would do it. Nothing was more important than his partner and their child.
The Dark Angel used his ethereal vision to look inside the mansion. Aranes was getting dressed inside the walk-in closet. He wanted to go back, take her in his arms and make the most of whatever time they had left on Earth, but he didn’t do it. She had her own worries; he didn’t want to add to her burdens. If he was being tested, he had to prove himself equal to the Source’s demands and not behave like a weakling. Perhaps that way he would prove that he was worthy of being the Superior’s partner—and, perhaps, gain a bit more time for the two of them on Earth.
He put the car into gear and sped out onto the public road, determined to do whatever he had to to succeed.
From his lair in Eregkal, Lucifer watched the mansion’s big iron gate close behind the Aston Martin as it shot out onto the road. The Lord of Darkness had been watching Abaddon for a while now. He couldn’t enter his mind any more, as he used to do before his transformation, but he caught on that Abaddon had been talking to the Source and that It had been turning a deaf ear to his entreaties. Lucifer didn’t think it strange. Their Creator made a habit of abandoning Its Angels. Only when Its authority was threatened did It intervene, as It had done when he had abducted Aranes.
The moment when he had been defeated by Michael, inside his very own kingdom, came to mind and filled him with rage. He would never forget being humiliated in front of Aranes. The Archangel would pay dearly for that insult.
Every cloud has a silver lining, he thought, choosing to push aside the memory that wounded his ego.
That unpleasant outcome had led to his reunification with his alter ego. And even though the splintered part of himself had acted on its own and had slipped into him at a moment when he had been unable to react, it made it possible for him to recover fast, blindsiding all those who had wanted him to remain out of action. From now on, they would all fear his hidden powers and no one would be able to predict his movements, except perhaps for Aranes. Elether’s leader possessed a superintelligence that rivaled his own. But no matter what she did, she wouldn’t be able to prevent the inevitable or protect her beloved Abaddon.
A malevolent smile tipped up one corner of his lips.
“Get ready,” he said, as if he was talking to the Dark Angel. “You’re about to lose everything and see the Source’s true colors.”
He knew that there were very hard times ahead for Abaddon, and he knew this because it was he who had prepared the incarnated Angel’s personal hell. His scheme was brilliant and carefully planned down to the very last detail. This time he had him. The commander of the Defenders would not escape madness, which he so feared as a human, or the consequent fall.
At this thought, Lucifer smiled broadly.
The idiot thought that the child Aranes was carrying was his. Soon, he would be disabused of that belief and would realize that neither she nor the child belonged to him. The Superior, the child, and the worlds—they all belonged to him, the greatest of Demons, and he would soon rule them all.
Seated at her Victorian desk at the back of the Guardians’ large library, Eiael was studying papers from an open folder. In front of the desk, Abaddon and Fares were sitting in two old-fashioned yet well-preserved armchairs, waiting for her to finish reading.
“This is an unusual way for us to help,” Fares said to Abaddon.
Eiael returned the papers to the folder and closed it.
“Nevertheless, we shall seriously consider your proposal,” she added, her earnest gaze on the Celestial before her.
Avoiding the two-hour-long drive to the Guardians’ castle in Long Island, Abaddon had materialized without warning in front of Eiael and Fares—who had been talking in the library—to propose that they take over the running of the charity he had created with Aranes. This way he would make sure that it would continue running whether its founders were present or not.
“I’m happy to hear it. I’ll await your response,” he replied and looked meaningfully at the head of the Guardians: “Eiael, I would like to discuss something with you.”
“You can go now, Fares,” she told her second-in-command politely.
The stocky man stood up, bowed to the Dark Angel, and left the library.
Abaddon waited for him to close the door behind him and then got straight to the point.
“Aranes told me that you have the original version of Revelations. Could I see it?” he asked impassively, as if his interest in the old text was purely academic.
“Of course.” Eiael stood up and headed for one of the library’s many shelves, the hem of her dark old-fashioned dress swishing as it dragged along the wooden floor. She pulled out a brown leather-bound volume, opened it, and headed back to her desk, all the while searching among the apocalyptic texts of the Judeo-Christian religion. “The revelation you’re interested in is here.” She placed the open volume in Abaddon’s hands and returned to her seat.
He quickly flipped through the rest of the book, glancing at the pages.
“Are all these prophecies?” he asked, arching his eyebrows.
“And there are more volumes …” Eiael replied. “Every nation and culture that lived on Earth left behind its own prophecies. The Dogon people, a West African tribe that lives in Mali, have a prophecy that talks about O Nommo, the Creator who was sacrificed to purify the universe, was crucified, died, and will at some point be resurrected in human form and come down to Earth. This prophecy is not so very different than most teleological prophecies, given that this Creator also has an adversary, Nommo Anagonno, whose rebellion was followed by his fall,” she observed, giving Abaddon a knowing look. “Everyone is waiting for their Messiah to establish order in the world and punish injustice. They don’t understand that this is their own responsibility.”
“Unfortunately not,” the Celestial agreed.
“As for the battle of good against evil, you have no idea how often it has been waged in human history,” Eiael continued. “Every religion and spiritual tradition has its own Lucifer. In Egyptian tradition, Ra, the creator of the world, waged ongoing battles with the serpent god Apep, his arch enemy who resided in the underworld. But Ra would always defeat his adversary and throw him into the abyss once again. As you can see, the similarities with Revelations are obvious. All nations have the same legends that portray the truth allegorically, through archetypal images.”
“I knew that there were a few doomsday prophecies, but I never imagined there were that many,” Abaddon said and turned back to the book. Using his supernatural abilities, he sped through the brief text. He noticed that the hair-raising details about the macabre fate of most of the human race—which would make any rational human being wonder about the text’s origins and what purposes it served—were absent. “Some passages are missing, but the key details are the same as the secular version,” he remarked, just to open the discussion.
The shrewd theurgist realized that he had something on his mind.
“Is there something I could help you with?” she asked, willing to be of service to the Source’s representative.<
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Abaddon didn’t feel comfortable having this conversation with her. The Guardian leader was wary of him, as many others were. But she was the most qualified to give him the answers, if she so chose, to the questions he couldn’t ask his partner.
“I want to know if there is a way to predict the future … I don’t want to trouble Aranes with my concerns,” he added somewhat hurriedly, knowing what the theurgist’s answer would be.
“The future is potential and cannot be predicted. It is the action that always determines the outcome,” Eiael replied, her expression puzzled as she looked at him. It was hard to believe that he didn’t know the answer already.
“But there are predictions that have come true, for example technological development,” Abaddon pointed out, having come prepared to counter her objections.
“Technological development was predicted because it was an inevitable consequence of the passage of cosmic time and entirely in line with man’s natural tendency to develop and improve his living conditions,” Eiael replied.
“Nevertheless, some people saw it coming,” Abaddon insisted.
“And many others saw things that never happened,” the long-lived theurgist countered. “The fact that part of a prophecy comes true does not mean that it will all come true. Some people have dreams or visions in which they might see images of possible future situations whose outcome in reality is, however, uncertain. It would therefore be wise not to put much stock in prophecies, given that some parts come true and others do not.”
“I don’t know the history of prophecies,” Abaddon acknowledged, “but what I do know is that some modern humans predicted local accidents and catastrophes. Tesla, for example, predicted a railroad accident, some of Nostradamus’s prophecies came true, and there are also psychics who have predicted some events in great detail.”