by Pottle, Bill
“We cannot know for certain,” Michael answered. “But we can estimate that Lucifer has rallied no more than a few thousand angels to his side. Our side still maintains more than one hundred thousand. Each side also has about fifty swords. Strategically, this is an easy battle for us to win.”
“Forgive my interruption,” Azazel broke in, “but do not forget that there may be others that he has recruited but that are remaining here as spies. We must be on our guard to protect against these angels as well.”
Many in the audience shivered at the thought. Any one of them could be a spy, lying in wait to betray them to Lucifer.
Michael nodded soberly. “This is true. Every individual must be on his guard. We know Lucifer claims to have a plan capable of
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defeating God. We do not yet know what this plan is, or if such a thing even exists, but we are doing everything we can to find out if it is true. Until he strikes, however, we can only guard what we think he may attack.”
Raphael cut in. “I for one do not believe there is any plan capable of defeating God. Lucifer is troubled. In fact, I do not believe he really cares which side wins. He is just trying to make the torment in Heaven mirror that in his own soul.”
Alizel’s heart felt heavier at that thought, though it was nice to have a calm and compassionate voice like Raphael in the Angelarch. Alizel missed Eleleth’s wisdom and peaceful counsel. Shortly after the disturbance had started, she had taken to bed with a mysterious illness.
Michael adjusted his dragon breastplate. “Whatever the case, I am sure that Lucifer has some major attack planned. When it comes, we can try to defend against it, but until that time, there are several precautionary measures that we must take.
“First of all, we must start the production of swords again in earnest. Whether it was wisdom or folly to make them in the first place is irrelevant now. What is relevant is that our enemy has these weapons as well and has not hesitated to use them against those who are unarmed.”
Azazel smiled. “In this you need not worry, sir. My fellow Powers and I have already begun to increase production. It will only be a short time before we have replaced what was lost when the armory was taken. We are nearing completion on two hundred Heaven’s Blades of the finest quality and will be touching them to the Father in a matter of days.”
A brief look passed over Michael’s face, and for a split second Alizel couldn’t tell whether he was worried or pleased. He recovered quickly and Alizel wondered if anyone else noticed.
“This goes hand in hand with our next measure,” Michael said finally. “All angels must travel in groups of at least ten at all times. Ideally, each group would each have at least one sword. Right now, we have only one sword per two thousand angels. Even with rapid production, it will take quite some time before we have enough weapons to make a real difference.”
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A murmur rumbled through the crowd. It would be a major inconvenience to always travel around in groups. Still, if it decreased their vulnerability to attack, then it was worth it, Alizel concluded. Even with Azazel and the rest of the Powers working on the swords as quickly as they could, making a Heaven’s Blade was no easy task. The craftsmanship required to make a sword that could last for eternity was immense. Angels were so fast, so skilled, that even the minutest variation in weight from one side of the hilt to the other could be enough to ensure defeat. They could sense the slight difference, and compensate so quickly that their strikes were nearly unparryable. The force expended when two angels’ blades met in midair could rend the hardest diamond on Earth as if it were no more than a cloud.
“Captured weapons must also be a priority then,” Verchiel interjected from his commander’s side. “Each one that we can wrest from the enemy will certainly aid us in defeating them. Likewise, we must be certain that none of our weapons fall into their hands. As it stands now, they have no way to produce them on their own, do they?”
Azazel nodded emphatically. “Verchiel makes a critical point. Theoretically, the rebels could gain the knowledge and skill to forge the blades themselves, but without touching them to the Father, they are useless. They would be no more than pieces of metal if God has not infused His power into them.”
“Then perhaps the fewer weapons there are, the better for us?” Raphael wondered out loud. “Are we playing into their hands by increasing production?”
“On a strategic level, you are absolutely correct, sir,” Azazel answered. “If we could capture the blades that they now possess, the war would effectively be ended. It is certainly possible for us to capture the fifty or so swords in their control. That is assuming, of course, that one of us could defeat Lucifer.” He paused, adjusted his breastplate, and then continued. “However, the price to do this would be the lives of at least several thousand angels. As it stands, they can swoop in and continue to attack and kill the defenseless of all ranks. How long would it take us to defeat them? How many angels will they slaughter before that time? It could be ten or even twenty thousand of us.”
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“That is not a risk that we are able to take!” Gabriel spoke with sudden authority in his voice, cutting off any further discussion.
It seemed like madness to Alizel, as he listened to it all. He couldn’t imagine that many angels perishing. In the fifteen billion years that they had existed, he had had many conversations with the vast majority of the angels in Heaven, and with the exception of a few of the higher and more secluded types, like the Thrones and Cherubim, he knew each angel well. At the very least, he knew the name of every angel in Heaven. The thought of twenty thousand of them perishing made him feel such pain as he had never felt before. It made him sick.
Sickness was a new concept as well. Alizel had first begun to see it with the angels attempting to use hate. They were in some new state, not in the Containment but not well either. He had observed sickness on Earth. It affected nearly every species. Oftentimes, an animal billions or even trillions of times larger than the attacker would fall to trillions of copies of a small microbe. The animals on earth were immensely complex, and the slightest thing going wrong could spiral out of control and wreak havoc on their entire being. Angels understood everything on an atomic level immediately. They could see every cell, every gene, and every protein at work in an instant. Thus the mechanism and progression of each disease was clear and simple. He wondered if something like that had somehow breeched the Portal and attacked Eleleth’s body… He certainly hoped not.
Gabriel rose to speak in the silence that followed his objection. “There is another matter to be considered, one of semantics. Once an angel has rejected God’s energy and begun to use hate, it is no longer right to refer to him as an angel. They should now be referred to as ‘demons.’”
There was a murmuring in the crowd. The loyalists had been wondering what to call them, with some thinking it was proper to just consider them “fallen” or “lost.” If they were now to be referred to with a completely different word, however, did that mean they were irredeemable? Could they never again enter into a state of grace? Berachiel the green-eyed Dominion asked this question to Gabriel.
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“Those other terms are acceptable as well,” he answered, clearly pleased that others also saw the power in words and the importance of using them correctly. “No one is ever lost from the power of God. Yet as these are actively rejecting him, they no longer deserve the title of ‘messenger of God.’” Everyone seemed to be in agreement, and the meeting finally adjourned.
The angels had to keep in their groups of ten, each led by their archangel. It wasn’t much protection, as a couple of rebels armed with swords could easily send them all into the Containment. However, with ten all in one place there was at least a reasonable chance that one could take down the attacker and steal his blade while another w
ent for help from the armed Powers to face the attackers evenly.
It at least made them think twice about attacking.
Shortly after the meeting, Alizel’s Archangel Katel decided to take his group of ten to visit Eleleth. Alizel was glad for the opportunity, as they had always been close. As the fighting intensified, she had begun to feel weaker and weaker. No one could discern what mechanism or foreign agent was afflicting her. Although the cause was unknown, the effect was clear.
Eleleth lay propped upright in her bed, a novel item in Heaven. Angels never slept and or needed rest. However, upon seeing her weakened state, others had decided that something must be done. The frame of the bed was solid cedar, worked together without nails to form a rectangular box with an angled slab to prop up her head. Eleleth wasn’t just a favorite of Alizel’s, everyone in Heaven adored her. Thus when it became obvious that she needed a soft place to lay her head, thousands of angels plucked their own feathers out and placed them inside her mattress. Never in the history of either the Realm of Spirit or the Realm of Matter had there been a softer bed, and never in the future would its like be constructed again.
If anyone would have been able to help her, Alizel thought, it would have been Raphael. Certainly he would have known what was wrong, and he had come to visit her several times without any
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success. Although what ailed her was affecting her body, it seemed that the cause for it was outside of her. If Raphael had asked God for a cure directly, he had received no response.
She smiled as they entered her dwelling place. She tried to look happy, but Alizel could tell the effort taxed her. Her once-radiant hair was plastered to her face with the sweat of exertion that simple breathing required. Her feathers were all but gone, and the stumps of her wings were visible through her long white alb. Alizel quickly averted his eyes. He felt like he was violating her by seeing her like this.
Sometimes Alizel wondered if humans and angels were so different after all. Eleleth wasn’t a human woman and she wasn’t vain, but she was beautiful once. Alizel imagined that no beautiful female, be she human or angel, relished the thought of others seeing her at her weakest, a shade of her former self. Eleleth was certainly less insecure than most and also hid her discomfort better, but even she wasn’t perfect.
“Hello,” she said. “I hope all of you are well.” Even at a time like this, she was thinking of others.
“We are,” Katel replied. “As well as anyone can be with things how they are.”
“What news?” she asked. Alizel could tell that she didn’t really want to know, but had to ask. He wondered if Abbadon had visited her. Even if not, she had to know that he had thoroughly gone over to the other side. She had, after all, seen it for herself in the attack on the Angelarch.
“We’ve lost a few more,” Katel bowed deep and his purple wings clasped close together as he acknowledged those who had fallen. “As has the enemy. Azazel believes us to be in an all out war now.”
“So,” she said, “there’s no hope that they will come to their senses anymore?”
“I’m afraid not.” Katel’s look was grim when he said it. “Too many of them have gone over to using hate to sustain them. Although hate does keep their bodies alive, I think that there are other, unknown side effects. For one, those using hate seem to lose their ability to think rationally. Their memory even can be distorted.”
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Alizel almost wished that Katel hadn’t said anything, for he could see the news pained her. However, it didn’t seem to hurt her as much as Alizel thought it should. Maybe it was because she had already guessed most of what he was saying. Or maybe it was that something he had said even gave her hope.
They talked for a while more, a superficial, uneasy conversation. Finally, when they were ready to leave she asked the question that no one wanted to give the answer to.
“There is one more thing I must know… Do you have any news of Abbadon? I know that he has defected, but do you know of anything else I might not?”
Katel hung his head, carefully preparing his answer. He sighed. “I will tell you everything I know, but it is not much. I do know that he has not yet been sent into the Containment.”
Eleleth seemed to brighten slightly. She smiled, but her eyes remained downcast. Even she was having difficulty believing there was still a chance for Abbadon, or any rebel, to be able to return.
“I’m sorry,” Katel said, “but there is one more thing that you should be aware of. He’s…well, he’s becoming stronger. A lot stronger. I don’t think it’s just the hate, but ever since this rebellion started, we have seen that he has started becoming physically bigger and, well, it’s like he’s a whole new angel. He was a Virtue before, but seeing him now it’s almost as if he was a Seraph or something. I don’t really know how to explain it.”
“He gets stronger, even as I grow weaker,” Eleleth mused. “Has this happened to any others?”
“Not that I know of,” Katel replied. “But I am a lowly archangel. Perhaps others will understand this better.”
They had been there long enough, and it was time to leave. Alizel bid his farewell to Eleleth and left her to rest and ponder her own thoughts in silence.
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CHAPTER SIX:
IN THE GARDEN
The warmth of the morning sun felt good against his skin. He lay there with his head against a rock, breathing deep and letting the aroma of the place fill him up. Life was good. He searched his mind, trying to remember a time when it was not so. He could vaguely recall when life was a struggle—the hunger in his belly, the fear of being chased, the cold of a biting winter’s night. But these ideas were only images, fleeting shadows that were drowned out by the comfort of the place he was in now. He had such peace here, such serenity. His other life, if it ever existed, was only a dream now.
The first thing that he could really remember was God. He didn’t really know who He was, only that He was the one who had created this world and everything in it. It made sense to Adam. The world was so big, so amazing. Someone had to have created it. Adam supposed that God had created him too. At least, when God had breathed into him, Adam knew that he was new, that something special had happened to him. As far as being born, that was the only day that counted.
She came over then, bringing with her a basket of dozens of wild fruits. She sat down next to him and tossed him what he had begun to call an orange. He peeled away the skin and sunk his teeth into the juicy interior. As he bit down, a piece of pulp squirted out and hit Eve in the eye. She cried out and then laughed, rubbing her eye and splashing it with water from a nearby spring until the sting was gone.
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“I’m sorry!” Adam said. “I didn’t know it could do that.”
Eve laughed again. The sound was clean and pure like the stream that bubbled beside them. “There’s no harm done. Next time I’ll know to be careful.”
They just stared at each other for a while. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. Time didn’t really have much meaning in the Garden.
“Did you ever wonder,” Eve said, tossing a melon up and then deftly catching it in her hands again, “where all this comes from?”
“It’s from God,” Adam answered. By the tone of his voice it was obvious that he hadn’t wondered.
“Well, I understand that,” she said. “But, I mean, why is it all here? Did He put it here just so that we could have an easy life? It seems so good of Him.”
Adam just shrugged. “Well, He did create the entire world. So it makes sense for Him to create a world where we have an easy life. Why would He want to create—” Adam was about to say pain, or suffering, or something like that, but he couldn’t, because those things didn’t exist for him anymore. He just remembered the
m enough from his former self to know that somewhere, something else existed outside of the walls of their Garden.
Eve seemed satisfied. “Maybe someday we’ll find out more. But for now, I’m content to live like this. I don’t understand God, but I love Him for giving this to us.”
Adam nodded vigorously. “So be it. God has given all of us something wonderful.”
There were others humans there, a few dozen. Adam and Eve got along well with all of them. There really was no reason not to. Everything that they needed was provided. They had perpetual warmth, and no need of shelter. They had their fill of delicious food, and clean, pure refreshing water. The humans didn’t have anything to fight over.