by Pottle, Bill
Still, something about it wasn’t right. Even though the hate distorted the others’ bodies and features, Alizel could still often remember the angel who was underneath. Was it really right to destroy them? Or was that what was best for them? Was the place of Un-being better for them than living with hate? Although the concept of partial sacrifice was foreign to angels, such a thing had been observed on Earth. An animal might chew off a part of its paw that was caught under a pile of rocks and live life with a little less of its body rather than die whole. Were the hate-filled angels the dead branches that they needed to prune for the tree of Heaven to grow higher? The idea was very disturbing.
“Mupiel,” he said, interrupting his friend who continued swinging the tree branch around with reckless abandon. “Why do you think God does not heal the rebels?”
Mupiel stopped his hacking the air and responded confidently. “I have pondered that before. I think He can’t heal them if they don’t want to be healed.”
“What do you mean God can’t do it? You know He is omni-potent!”
“That is a tricky problem,” Mupiel agreed. “And I’ve been asking around. The best answer I’ve come up with is that God chooses to limit His omnipotence by letting us exercise our own free will. Although I’m sure He could step in and force us to make any decision, that’s not what He wants.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“Think of it this way. The only way that the rebels still exist now is by focusing all their energy on using hate. God’s Energy still radiates through Heaven. All one of those angels would have to do is just will it in his heart to be reconciled to God. Then God’s Energy would come in and their body would return to its former glory. I have heard of it happening a few times.”
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Alizel had heard of such a thing too, although it was exceed-ingly rare. “I guess that makes sense, but the problem with hate is that it distorts the angels’ ability to reason and think logically. Some of them probably don’t even know that the way of reconciliation is open to them if they should but wish it.”
Mupiel shook his head slowly. “That is one of the tragedies of hate.” His voice was suddenly sad. “Once an angel starts using it, it is very difficult to stop. It is an addiction, that way.”
A thought suddenly occurred to Alizel. “What if another side effect of hate is fighting poorly? We certainly seemed to have an easy enough time with that battle.”
“That’s it!” Mupiel’s blond hair bounced as he struck his fist into his hand. “That could explain why God Himself hasn’t ended this whole thing! Maybe He is just letting us all sort it out ourselves. He must surely know all about hate and how it works. He must have known that this war will be easy for us to win, so He does not trouble Himself about it.”
Alizel wasn’t convinced, although the idea did have merit. “Perhaps it also gives more time for the angels who have turned away to repent.” After he said it, he realized how much the two reasons together could explain God’s behavior. Alizel had always known that God’s ways were not their ways, but even so he always struggled to understand Him. His heart was full of praise and admiration for the Most High, and seeking to understand Him was a natural extension of this, however confusing He was at times.
He could see that Mupiel thought highly of his idea as well. “Alizel, you're brilliant!” he said, slapping him on the back. “He knows that our armies face no real danger in the field. And it's always been said that God is a longsuffering God. He wants the war to continue as long as necessary, because while the rebels are still alive, there is still a chance that they will come back.”
The thought was almost perfect, except for one flaw. "But, what about us?” Alizel countered. “I mean, although God lets the conflict drag on, certain loyal angels are bound to be sent away into the Containment. What about them?"
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Mupiel's face dropped. "That is a good point.” He thought long and hard for a few moments. “Maybe after the war is over God will open up the Containment and let all the loyal angels out."
The conversation continued on like this for some time. The sinking in his stomach lessened somewhat, although Alizel didn't feel like they had really gotten to the essence of God's reason. He did feel like they might have figured some of it out, though; things made a bit more sense. Of course God would still love those in rebellion against Him. He would want to give them time to repent, but He couldn't force them to repent. God's omnipotence was total, save where it ran into the individual free will of each angel He had given him to use. God still possessed true omnipotence because His limited omnipotence was limited only by His own free choice.
It was quite baffling, but made sense, after a fashion.
Their hearts filled with joyous revelry as they rejoined the main camp. Stories of the battle, cheers of hope for the future, and praises to the Most High God burst forth into the air for the next several hours.
They didn't have long to savor their victory. Lucifer's forces were spotted converging on the field in front of Mt Zion the next morning and they went out to meet them with renewed confidence. This time, it seemed like the majority of his troops were there. At least, Alizel hoped it was the majority of his troops.
In the distance, he thought he could make out what used to be his friend Verin, as well as a few others that he knew, though it was difficult to be sure. His heart sank.
The horde arrayed against the loyalists was immense. Seeing so many fallen ones all gathered together like that sent a chill down to the middle of Alizel’s soul. It looked like nearly one third of the entire host, close to fifty thousand souls, was striding forward. They carried all manner of weapons, and took all manner of forms. Alizel looked hard at how the hate had affected each one differently. Although each angel had always had a distinct appearance since creation, they
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all looked similar, and were certainly recognizable as belonging to the same species, the same creation. Now, some of the enemies were short and squat, some tall and thin, and some all manner of contorted shapes in between.
What really got to Alizel, though, were the faces. Although all parts of their bodies had changed, the rebels’ faces were where he noticed the biggest difference. Their eyes were distorted, hollow and vacant, yet filled with simmering malice. The skin of their faces had been stretched in some areas and bunched in others, subservient to the changing facial structure below. Were not his brave brothers in arms standing shoulder to shoulder and wing to wing, Alizel was not sure whether he would not have fled headlong out of fright.
This time Michael needed to bring out the entire army to face them. The fact that they had nearly two times as many fighters as Lucifer, and that they had already proved the effectiveness of their formations gave Alizel little comfort on seeing the vastness of their enemy. It wasn't so much that he feared for his own self, but his heart sank with the realization that there would be hundreds, or even thousands, of angels who would be going into the Containment within the next several hours. He felt like jumping up and crying for everyone to stop, to cease this madness, but he knew that his cry would be as useless as Eleleth’s had been. Nothing short of direct intervention from the Father could stop this conflict.
Lucifer's army came forward, and Michael set up their defensive half-spheres again. This time Alizel’s entire company was in the rear, so they were free to watch the first part of the fight, held in reserve to replace those companies on the front if they were destroyed. Although they had griped about their assignment the day before, by facing the horde first in a small skirmish, they had received a safer place on the day of the major battle.
The angels on the front lines quickly set up their half-spheres in rows of ten. While setting up full front-facing lines would have been better when meeting a ground-based enemy, there were enough of Lucifer's minions that still had the power of flight to ju
stify using the half-spheres.
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Lucifer's army came forward to within about one hundred paces from the first row of spheres. Alizel was certain that they would not have to wait long, but as he watched, something started worrying him.
The monsters facing them wanted to fight. That much was certain. What were they waiting for? In this type of battle, the attackers were at a distinct disadvantage. Would they hold their lines and force the angels to attack? Would the commanders give the order? The discipline of this force was markedly different from what they had faced earlier. Michael’s lines held steady, stern-faced angels reflecting the glory of God, while the other line started taunting. From the back, Alizel couldn't make out their exact words, their voices all blending together in a menacing, deafening screech.
Fortunately, the loyalists were not forced to endure this for too much longer. The rebel lines parted and Zebub suddenly emerged from the breech. His appearance was even more loathsome than before. His body had become bloated but the edges were rotting. Alizel could see several angels in the front lines cover their noses to avoid the stench. For a brief moment he felt a twinge of curiosity over the myriad effects of hate on their adversaries. It almost looked like Zebub's body was generating new material in his core as fast as the outside was rotting and falling off dead. They had no microorganisms in Heaven as they did on Earth, so Alizel did not know how this was possible.
Zebub began addressing the host, and Alizel’s curiosity turned once more to revulsion at the demon’s figure and words. He could not believe the filth that Zebub spewed forth. Alizel had heard that Lucifer had changed Zebub’s name even as he had changed his own, but even in his mind, Alizel refused to refer to anyone but God as “lord.”
“Lord Lucifer has assembled a show of force to appeal to the reason of every angel here as well as the Lord God Himself,” Zebub’s voice rose as both armies fell silent. “Our Lord Lucifer is merciful. He would feign not destroy the beauty of Heaven. He is willing to accept your surrender under the following non-negotiable conditions.”
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Alizel didn't see how Lucifer was in any position to start demanding anything. He was the one in rebellion. He was the one who needed to surrender in order to avoid being destroyed!
“The first condition is that every one of you bow down and acknowledge Lucifer as supreme ruler of the Realm of Spirit and the Realm of Matter. You must also acknowledge myself, Baal Zebub, as his deputy. The second is that the Lord God may keep His place as Creator, but must acknowledge His error in placing man before angels.”
Cries of disbelief and “Blasphemy!” erupted from the army. This was too much! How could they expect the army of God to follow their demands? Had hate really disrupted their thoughts to the point where any of them believed this insanity? Alizel was almost beside himself with rage.
“For the third demand,” Zebub continued, raising his voice again to speak over the din, “God must apologize to all angels, and bow down and thank Lord Lucifer for chastising Him. The final demand...”
But they never did get to hear what the final demand was.
The front line of loyalists surged forward almost before anyone knew what was happening. All the years of insecurity, the pain of losing loved ones, and the anxiety of the war burst forth from the angels in a holy fury that enveloped them. The demons were an affront to God by their very existence. The demand that God bow down to Lucifer was just too much. Lines broke, formations dissolved, and even the commanders themselves were caught up in the initial rush. Alizel even saw Michael rush forward ahead of the rest, leaving a trail of weapons in his wake where the demons that held them had stood before disappearing under the strike of his blade.
The demons already had their weapons raised, and began swinging left and right in tight lines as soon as the angels came at them. In that instant Alizel saw their trap. How could they have been so stupid to charge?
Yet, how could they have the patience to sit there and let them blaspheme like that?
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These demons were both better armed and better trained than the ones they had faced before. It was obvious from the beginning: they protected themselves from the sides and rear, and the physical differences between each one gave the angels some trouble. The loyalists were trained to fight in a highly effective but standard way. The myriads of demonic shapes gave them all sorts of advantages. An angel might be engaged with one who had kept his normal height while a taller one brought his sword slicing down from above or a shorter one would run through the angel’s legs underneath and catch him with an upward thrust to the stomach.
After a few horrible minutes of battle, the screams of their compatriots had a sobering effect on the loyalist troops. After the initial flare of energy, most on the front lines had seen the trap that they had been led into. The command was trying to reestablish itself, calling for retreat back to their original lines.
But forming up now would use valuable time, since the spheres on the front lines would be unable to form in their original groupings due to the heavy losses they had taken. This battle was nothing like the one before. It was turning out all wrong!
A platinum blur jumped forward, Azazel assuming command. Fortunately, he had not gotten caught up in the initial rush. “First group fall to the rear! Second line, change to Defensive Formation Alpha. Other formations shift forward one!”
Lines shifted as angels hurried to their new spots. The reinforced half-spheres sprung up almost instantaneously to halt the sea of red and black that was threatening to drown them.
Fighting was fierce on the lines. Alizel felt fortunate to have his vantage point where he was far enough away to not be in immediate danger, but close enough to witness every slice, block, and chop. It was only out of curiosity that he wanted to see what was happening. He didn't allow himself to think too long on the actions of the individuals fighting. He knew that he couldn't, and still retain his sanity. Thinking about what the demons were was bad enough; seeing them try to destroy those angels who he had lived with, played with, and praised God with was almost more than he could handle.
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Lucifer must have given a command to the demons, as the back part of his force split into two and tried to flank the angels on both sides. Michael, back at his post, responded and sent out two companies to each side to bring out lines at forty-five degrees to their main line. Alizel’s company got sent to the right side. This time, he was on the outside of the sphere, facing directly towards the oncoming attackers.
They did not hesitate to come with everything that they had. For a split second he didn't know who to attack as several targets
came at him. He unconsciously inched backwards, seeking out an extra sliver of safety from his companions. He felt his wings brush back against the sleek softness of those standing next to him, and it gave him the extra ounce of courage that he needed.
Several limbs swung at him at once, it seemed. In the mass of misshapen demons that surged at them, it was hard to tell which leg, arm, tentacle, or snout belonged to which adversary.
He was in pure defensive mode, content to block and parry everything that came at him. He dared not lunge forward to take an obvious opening, as doing so would not only open him up, but leave the angels to his sides defenseless as well. If one stands, all stand, he reminded himself over and over.
Whenever he could strike the enemy without reaching too far, he took a shot. A poke here, a slice there, and he could start to untangle the mess that was facing them.
Just as the lines of enemies were becoming clearer to Alizel, a huge winged beast leaped overhead. He actually had Heaven's Blades anchored to the claws of his scaly feet.
“We’ve got it!” yelled two of the angels hovering near the top of the sphere. To defeat this enemy would be extremely valuable, as they could captur
e the blades he had attached to his claws.
The beast cried out with a screech so horrid that it rent the din of the battle. It stabbed its claws straight at the attackers, but as they parried the thrusts, the other blades attached to its claws by ropes swung around and sliced the angels. The beast's forward movement was enough to swing the blades to take out anyone who was facing it while they were attempting to block the first strikes. By the precise
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timing that this required, Alizel knew this beast had been practicing. He saw several angels jump forward from the middle of the sphere to reinforce where their partners had been lost. A few more