by Pottle, Bill
“I will be setting my lieutenant Verchiel in charge of training the new recruits.” Verchiel was another who wore a sword at all times. He wore his slung over his shoulder instead of at his side as most angels did. The blade hung vertically down between the stumps of his golden wings.
Azazel’s voice hardened suddenly. “We are also looking into developing a new weapon. However, for obvious reasons, I cannot discuss specifics here. Suffice it to say that the swords are very limited in range. We are looking at ways to project our power through a distance.”
The audience murmured and shifted in their seats, perturbed. “Are you sure this is wise?” The brown-winged Principality
called Oliver objected. “Look at what happened the last time we tried to invent a new weapon!”
“Not only is it wise,” Azazel countered, “it is necessary. I can assure you that Lucifer is tinkering and designing his own new weapons. Will we stand idly by while he grows stronger? Or will we do what it takes to strengthen ourselves? There is not one angel here
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who can deescalate this situation. Lucifer has made his choice. Now we must make ours. We must grow stronger, or perish.”
There was scattered discussion among the multitudes, but it was clear that the majority felt that inventing new weapons was worth it. It was better to trade immediate safety for future potential danger.
Raphael rose. He waited politely for Azazel to acknowledge him with a nod before taking the floor. He spoke, his voice calm and his rhythm even. “There is another way that we can defend ourselves. It may not be much and we may not have enough time to make it for everyone, but God in His wisdom has offered us a gift of holy protection.”
Alizel straightened up and sat on the edge of his seat, curious. Everyone hung on Raphael’s every word with eager anticipation.
“Since the beginning, the Seraphim and Powers have worn metal breastplates, without really knowing their purpose. We have taken these for granted, just as we wear our albs or our colored sashes. By itself, this armor offers no protection. A Heaven’s Blade can cleave straight through it in an instant. However, I have wondered what would happen if God’s essence were used to strengthen our armor just as It strengthens the swords. I have asked the Father directly, and He has given us this gift. Thus, we can make protectors for our bodies, arms, and legs. With the infusion of the Father’s essence, it will protect us against blows from the swords.”
A loud cheer went up. This was fantastic news! Angels who hadn’t smiled in quite some time broke out in grins from ear to ear. Of course, the angels all knew that having such armor wouldn’t ensure their survival, but it would certainly give them an advantage in the fighting. And anything that meant less loss of life was a welcome sign. News like this had been a long time in coming.
“Of course,” Raphael continued, “it will take some time to make this armor on a large scale. We are very fortunate, however, that the armor does not take nearly as much skill or time as the swords do. We do not need an atomic edge, only basic craftsmanship to ensure that the armor does not hinder our movement and flight. I should note that it is also possible to make large heavy suits that could theoretically cover an angel completely. We have investigated
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and decided against this possibility. For one thing, it would take a disproportionate amount of resources to make these full suits. It would be especially difficult to encase the wings in them. For another thing, such a suit might actually hinder more than help. If an angel’s reflexes were slowed, then an unarmored and mobile adversary would be able to strike with their sword in one of the joints. Remember, all it takes is a whisper scratch from a Heaven’s Blade.”
He sat down as Alizel pondered this new development. It was obvious that Raphael had gone to great lengths recently to conceive of and design this new armor. Alizel was grateful that they had him on their side…but he was saddened by the responsibilities that Raphael was obviously taking on. This was the Seraph who had always been vying for peace, the gentlest of the highest rank. And now, he had to think like a military leader, like Azazel. It grieved him.
With Azazel on offense and Raphael on defense though, Alizel reasoned, it seemed impossible that Lucifer could triumph, no matter what his plan was. Yet, Alizel had to catch himself. He didn’t know exactly how powerful Lucifer’s troops had become, and what horrible weapons he had invented.
Michael rose and Raphael nodded to him. “This is welcome news, indeed. I am glad to hear of so much progress on this critical matter. Now, we turn to another defensive measure. To those that say it is impossible to construct something to keep out our flying adversaries, I now offer this. Orifel and his Thrones have already started an excavation project deep within Mt. Zion itself.”
A gasp went up from the Angelarch. Alizel had certainly heard of no such thing! He didn’t even know that such a thing was possible. As Michael explained it, he could immediately start to see the benefits.
“Many of our adversaries still have the ability to fly. Walls will not stop them. However, we are planning to build a series of tunnels. The system is complex, and the full map is known only to a few. Even those who are helping to excavate it are allowed to work only on one small area. We will create a maze of tunnels and certain key angels who need protection will reside there. Our command structure for the coming war can also be encased safely in the center.”
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It was brilliant. But something he said caught Alizel. He wondered who the “key angels” were. They were probably those like Eleleth who were too sick or unable to defend themselves. It did make a lot of sense to keep the command structure there, that way they would always be assured of receiving and sending orders and not worrying about spies intercepting their messages. He just hoped that they would be able to stay in contact with them while they were out on the battlefield.
Alizel himself hadn’t really thought so much about fighting, but he knew he would have to eventually. He had trained with swords from the beginning; he wasn’t one of the best, but he wasn’t too shabby either. The memory of the times he had spent with Katel burned through his mind and a hot tear sprung to his eye. He had lost too much already. Lucifer was not going to take anything else.
“If it comes to it, the caverns will also be where we make our last stand,” Michael continued.
The leader of the Cherubim suddenly rose. Ophaniel rarely spoke, but when he did everyone paid extra attention. Although Lucifer mostly drew his support from the Unranked and other lower orders, he had received defections from every order of angels. Every order except the Cherubim, that is. Not one of those closest to God had betrayed Him and gone over to Lucifer’s side. They remained at their post, always and with unwavering loyalty, no matter the doubt swirling in the minds of all the other orders. The highest ranking defect Lucifer had received was a Throne named Malphas.
All four of Ophaniel’s faces were now something that could only be described as human children. His youthful appearance belied his wisdom. Alizel had always wondered why those closest to God appeared in the simplistic guise of a child.
“The Cherubim will make our last stand at the foot of the throne of God,” Ophaniel said quietly, and with an unobtrusive sense of authority. “I do not think our adversary will try a direct assault, but if he does, we will gladly hold next to our Lord.”
The Cherubim were a numerically small and militarily insignificant order. They were too close to God’s ways. If God himself fought, Alizel was sure that they would jump into the battle
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with pure-hearted joy, but as it was, God was still silent. Perhaps He was waiting for the precise minute to turn the battle. Or, perhaps the battle and result didn’t matter to Him. Perhaps He just wanted to see what everyone would do. It was all very perplexing.
Michael nodded. Alizel couldn’t te
ll if he was troubled at being interrupted, but if he was he soon forgot it. “The last preparation that we need to make,” Michael began his conclusion, “is to learn to fight as a unit. There are individuals here who are very skilled with the blade, no doubt. However, if we all learn to fight together, we may protect each other’s weak points. This will give us the advantage we need. Remember, an individual confrontation, even an entire battle, can be turned by a very small margin.”
It was necessary, Alizel realized. He hadn’t considered the value of tactics before, but they had in fact been using primitive ones all along, since the first battle in the Angelarch. Things like forming a half-sphere, guards flying forward ahead of those they wanted to protect…all of this made a big difference in the battles. Looking at the importance of formations and strategy now, he wondered what else he had overlooked.
“The training in formation and battle tactics will be undertaken by Verchiel, who is an intelligent strategist and teacher. Everyone who is not otherwise employed should attend to his practice whenever he has free time. The training will be done in the first opening of the caverns. It is large enough for practice and we may keep away from Lucifer’s prying eyes there.” Michael turned to recognize Verchiel.
Verchiel always had a way with words. When he spoke, it filled those who heard with a longing to go out and be great. He stroked his red goatee thoughtfully before he addressed the crowd.
“The days when we took carefree strolls through the garden of the Lord are over,” he said grimly. His usual smile was gone now. “The days when we played and laughed and danced are over. The days when we explored the Universe to learn its mysteries are over. The days when we will fight for our very existence are coming. We must be ready. We will be ready!” His eyes burned with clean fury as he spoke. He said nothing else, and returned to his seat.
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Michael regained the floor, solemn. “We have made great progress today, my comrades. We have a new armor that will protect us, new training to undertake, development of a potential new weapon, and construction of a safe haven inside of Mt. Zion. Much work remains to be done. We do not know how much time we have until our adversary begins his assault. This meeting is hereby adjourned. Let each angel go to the task prepared for him.”
Walking out of the Angelarch, the buzz was louder than it had been for quite some time. That meeting had done much for Alizel’s morale, and by the words and gestures of those around him, he could tell that he wasn’t the only one who felt a newfound sense of hope. The worst part about sitting around waiting for Lucifer to pick them off one by one was the feeling of helplessness, the idea not only that they couldn’t stop it, that they didn’t even know how to stop it. Now that they had a specific plan with several concrete steps, everything appeared brighter.
Alizel wouldn’t have said that the angels thought their leadership was abandoning them, it was just that some thought they should have come up with a plan earlier. Now it was clear that they had been contemplating what to do all along, and had some cunning ideas to implement. What else have they thought of? Alizel wondered. And what had Lucifer thought of? One thing was for sure: the coming battle would be of such epic proportions that it that would be remembered and retold for eternity.
“That armor idea is brilliant,” Mupiel came over beside him, a huge smile across his face. “It seems so simple. I wonder why none of us thought of something like that before.”
“Maybe someone did,” Alizel offered, “but just to be safe, only told Raphael about it.”
“That’s a good thought,” he conceded. “That’s the last thing we’d want Lucifer to know about. Although, I’m sure he still has some spies in our camp. It’s just too bad that we can’t spy on him, since he makes everyone in his camp use hate.”
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“It is a disadvantage,” Alizel agreed. “But knowing about the armor won’t do him much good. It’s not like he can make it himself, since he needs to infuse it with the Power of God. Plus, I’m not even sure if he’d be able to wear it. If he is so against God, I wonder what would happen if he tried to put it on.”
“Well, in any event, I feel much better now than I did before the meeting. We have so much we need to get done, and no idea how much time we have. We need to get started right away!” Mupiel was energized and ready to go.
Alizel felt the same way himself. Lucifer’s attack could come any minute, or it could come in months or years. One thing was certain, though. The more prepared they were, the better. There wasn’t a minute to lose.
“Well then,” Alizel smiled, “I guess you and I are off to the caverns.”
They weren’t the first angels to make it into the caverns. A hundred or so were already milling about, admiring the new defenses. The antechamber where they first entered was rather large, allowing several hundred angels to congregate comfortably. The walls were smooth and dusty brown colored, with several veins of darker materials running through them. The echo of Alizel’s sandaled feet was lost amongst the excited whispering.
He glanced around quickly, but didn’t see Verchiel anywhere. There was a line of angels leading toward something, however. He signaled to Mupiel and they both went over to wait in the line.
“I haven’t been this excited for a long time,” the angel in front of him was saying to another. “This place is amazing. I’d like to see Lucifer try to get in here!”
“Excuse me,” Alizel said, tapping him on the shoulder. “Is this where we are to practice our tactics?”
The angel just smiled. His name was Hyveriel, and although Alizel wouldn’t say that he knew him well, he had certainly spoken with him many times before. Although there were nearly one hundred
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fifty thousand angels, they had been in Heaven for over fifteen billion years. That’s a hundred thousand years for each angel— and they never forgot anything. Of course, they spent most of their time with those angels who were closest to them, and barely ever talked with the higher ups, but Heaven was the most close-knit community imaginable. He supposed that’s why the war was so painful.
“No, Alizel,” Hyveriel said, grinning. His skin was the color of honey and his feathers were sapphire blue. “This is merely the registration line. We must all give our names and abilities, and then they will divide us into squads and battalions later.”
“I was wondering how we would be organized,” Mupiel cut in. “Originally, we could have used our groups under our Archangels and Principalities, but we’ve lost so many to the Containment and Lucifer since then that our former structure seems to have no merit for war.”
“I’m only telling you what I’ve heard,” Hyveriel cautioned, “but it does seem necessary. However, the defenses of this place are such that even a few can defeat many.”
“How do they work?” Mupiel asked, glancing around as if he could see the hidden defense systems.
“I don’t claim to know,” Hyveriel answered. “All I’ve heard is that there are many connected rooms throughout the mountain. They’re joined by long, thin tunnels that burrow through the rock. Each individual will have to fly though in single file. That way, no matter how many Lucifer brings against us, we can’t be overwhelmed by numbers. The tunnels have small slits in their walls, space enough for only a Heaven’s Blade. We can wait on the other side and just cut them to pieces before they enter.”
Alizel immediately saw the brilliance of the plan. The tunnels could branch off several times and many would just lead to dead ends and certain ambush. A full frontal assault of Mt. Zion by Lucifer was doomed to fail, as long as Michael’s forces could convince the demons to follow them in.
They soon made it to the front of the line where an angel named Numinel sat recording information in a long scroll. His iridescent-feathered pen scratched along the parchment as a many-colored script
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E
burst forth from the tip. His own feathers bore the same rainbow hue as his pen. Angel feathers made the best quill pens known, although few angels would suffer to give up a feather for something considered so superfluous. Records were usually unnecessary, since angels had perfect memories, but sometimes writing something down gave it more power. It also put things in a slightly different way. For reorganizing the army, it could be a big help.