The Third Heaven: The Rise of Fallen Stars

by Donovan Neal

  “Nay Lord Cadfiel, he will do no such thing. El will be given a choice, for when all things have been set into motion, he will abdicate the throne. If he does not capitulate then I will destroy his beloved creation, starting with his prized possession: the humans. We will garrison the Earth, the garden, and Athor. If I do not arrive, you will see to its destruction. I bargain that El will not let his creation be destroyed. I realized this when he created Hell as opposed to oblivion for Abaddon. You see Lord Cadfiel, El loves. His love and readiness to spare will be his undoing. No. El will yield; He will have no choice when He sees all of creation threatened. And on that day my brothers, we will serve the triune God no more!”

  ********************

  Michael climbed down from Mt. Zion, flew across his great city, and landed at the steps of the Maw. The silicate breath of the caves entrance stung his eyes and scratched his throat. The heat belched from the great cavern, and fire leapt to lick Michael’s face. Hell seemed agitated, and lava oozed across her black gums. He looked through the steam and saw that Charon was absent from his post.

  I will be protected, thought Michael.

  Michael swallowed hard and stepped into the fires of Hell. Fire and brimstone washed over his body as Hell’s saliva of sulfur and magma cleansed her palate to consume the Elohim. The giant ferrous, black stalagmite teeth shut tight behind him.

  The heat intensified and Michael began to understand the horror that Abaddon must have felt. He looked at his hands as the flames attempted to broil the flesh from his bones, but Hell would be denied this day as Michael stood his ground in the midst of Hell’s maw.

  “Oh mount of anguish and torment hear me! I come neither guilty nor with guile. I seek thy ward Charon! Deny me not, for I come in the name of the Lord of Hosts!”

  The ground buckled, and Michael lost his footing. Red-blistered eyes lifted from beneath the magma and stared at him. Orifices protruded from the walls, hissing and bearing razors for teeth. Pyroclastic forms bubbled from the surface of Hell’s floor and made their way towards the Chief Prince. Each slid and hissed as they did. Michael clutched Hell’s Tome and stood his ground eyeing the encircling creatures rising from the floor.

  “Attack me at thy peril, creature, but thou hast been warned!”

  Hell was a living mountain whose consciousness was aware on only the smallest of levels. All it knew was that within its maw was Elomic flesh. Hell hungered, and it would engorge itself on this little angel.

  Tendrils shot out from the walls and flame, magma, and ash flared up in front of the high prince. A tendril of fire wrapped around Michael’s legs and lifted him high into the air. Michael wailed in pain and clutched the book. Another tendril reached out to clasp his hands and then another. Michael thrashed as a fly captured in a spider’s web as dozens of tendrils shot from the walls and enveloped him in a cocoon of magma. His clothing burned, but when the tendrils of heated flame touched the pages of the tome Michael carried, Hell screamed.

  Hell’s coils quickly retracted, and Michael fell hard to the ground. The eyes in the floor glared at him with pupils’ red with rage and hissed at him.

  “Yes creature I carry thy tome. Now I query you again! Where is Charon?”

  The mountain rumbled, and the antigens of lava melted into the floor. The hiss of steam subsided, and all the tentacles pointed deep into the darkness that was Hell’s throat. The magma on the floor parted and revealed dry, black ground underneath. The lava pillowed up to the sides to form a pathway.

  Michael followed the trail laid before him. Walking carefully, he ventured to neither the right nor left. The lava flows gave off a reddish orange glow just bright enough to see. On both sides of him were rows of eyes and orifices that gnashed, spitting out ash and sulfur. Michael wheezed and coughed, and the smell and heavy fumes filled his lungs. His clothes blackened; and like a grey ghost, the Prince of Heaven walked the empty floor of Hell.

  Deeper he traveled into the hallways, making note of his whereabouts and observing each corridor and cave. Cavern after cavern bubbled with fire and the walls oozed with sticky goo, ready to imprison and feed off any soul damned to abide inside. Michael then began to understand the wrath of the Lord.

  His vengeance on any who do him or his own harm: would find themselves spending eternity in a living monstrosity consumed for all eternity. They would broil mingled in the fires of the Kiln that sustained life, and roasted in the fires of the Hell that took it. In that moment, Michael understood both the goodness and the severity of God.

  Oblivion would not be an escape, and dissolution would be denied. For here within the hollow of the beast, one would be damned to live forever only to die as fodder for a creature that lived off the tortured agony and eternal spirit of its host, surrounded in the flickering light of flame for an eternity only to watch one’s flesh slowly eaten alive. Michael marveled at the thing that was Hell and quickened his pace. He did not wish to remain there long.

  Michael traveled over some floors soft and others of firmness, walking through branch, pipe, and conduit until finally in the distance. Michael could see light and relief flooded him.

  Closer he came to a huge chamber and it was here that he saw it. The Bowel, a massive walled cavern of living fire, lined with eyes and latticed with teeth, and he could tell it was here, within the deepest pits of the mountain the true horrors of digestion played themselves out. For on the lining of Hell’s stomach, images splayed themselves before Michael of all Abaddon’s doings.

  His first consciousness of waking from the Kiln, his accolades as Son of the Dawn, his judgment as he fell screaming into the pit of Hell, all that was his life played out before him. Moreover, Michael saw that Charon was not just a warden but also an instrument of vengeance, that deep within the belly of this beast of fire and brimstone, he replayed for his victim his life, a moving mural painted for Abaddon to relive. Hell feasted on regret and nourished herself off anguish and remorse. It was here that Hell grew obese from the weeping and gnashing of teeth.

  Tattered remains of clothing and regal garb littered the floor, and Arelim flesh was stuck into the walls. Michael snapped from his staring as lightning arched across the ceiling and shot out from through the floor. He rushed to the sparks source to see moving in the center of the floor a whirlpool of lightning, fire, and brimstone that drained into a shaft of light.

  A Ladder, he thought but unlike any, he had ever seen.

  He looked into the great vortex, and it was as a funnel that ran from Hell’s stomach through space itself. Hell lurched, and shook, and, the mountain groaned, and its guttural displeasure echoed throughout the cavern, and the mount expanded.

  Charon was gone. Michael covered his eyes to see against the lightning, which arced within the cavern. He moved and flew above the edge of the “chute” and could see the Earth in the great distance at the bottom. The horror of the situation grabbed him. Hell had enlarged herself and had made foothold on Earth.

  ********************

  Raphael saw Elohim go about their business on the streets. Each took their assignments from their Archons, as his people dutifully took note of their surroundings and hovered ever so silently out of sight in the presence of their charge.

  Nothing seems amiss, he thought.

  Raphael passed into the street unseen to all, but his own people. Various Grigori bowed and or acknowledge their Lord. Some looked at him and others stared, but all continued in their duties. Looking around, he made out Ashtaroth in the distance and ran over to get a closer look.

  What is this! He has no Grigori to accompany him!

  Raphael turned to one of his fellow Grigori. “Tell me, have you seen the Grigori for Ashtaroth?”

  The Grigori smiled and floated away after his charge.

  Raphael gawked at the behavior in disbelief.

  “My people,” Raphael shouted speaking into the ether so that only his kind could hear. “Where is the steward for Ashtaroth?”

  Each Grigori continued to f
loat past their Lord, and Raphael looked on in amazement.

  Ashtaroth then stopped, turned around, and looked squarely at Raphael.

  Immediately dozens, then hundreds of other angels stopped and turned or stood to look at him as well.

  Raphael’s eyes darted over the street and he noted that all had ceased moving and slowly started walking towards him; and Raphael backed away. From the court behind Ashtaroth, the doors into Athor’s castle opened. Lucifer, Zeus, and Mephisto stepped into view, and all of their assigned Grigori floated behind them and walked through the center of the street straight towards Raphael’s path: and Lilith smiled at Raphael as they approached.

  A group of angels landed, barred his path and encircled him.

  “There is no need to yell or leave my prince. In fact…,” said Lilith, “we insist that you stay.”

  Raphael began to run.

  “Restrain him.” Lilith said.

  Grigori in the vicinity swarmed over their Prince, tackled him, and held him down to the ground. Raphael struggled to rise, but their grip was strong, and they were too many.

  “Lilith, what is the meaning of this outrage! All of you release me immediately or incur the wrath of a High Prince!”

  Some of the Grigori loosened their grip, and Lilith hurried to their side.

  “Do no such thing,” said Lilith.

  Lilith raised Raphael to his feet and searched his person. He reached and confiscated his inkhorn, stylus, and tome, and upon doing so, Raphael immediately became visible to all.

  “Ah much better,” said Lucifer. “Raphael, it is so good to see you, my brother. However, I must admit I am disappointed that you felt it necessary to be secretive of your presence here. It was not necessary I assure you.”

  “Your hospitality Chief Prince means little to me when I am forcibly held.”

  “My apologies my friend — perhaps if you had been more forthright in your own activities, mine own actions would be less circumspect? Of course I’m sure if I just chose to walk into the Hall of Annals, you would equally great me with such hospitality?”

  “The Lord rebuke you, Lucifer Draco,” said Raphael.

  “Not today my little prince…,” said Lucifer. “Not today.”

  Lucifer turned to walk back into the palace, and his entourage followed.

  “Bring him,” said Lucifer.

  Raphael struggled as his captors held him tight. Lilith walked before him and spoke.

  “Raphael, why do you resist? We will not harm you. Surely, you know that. After all, are you not the Prince Lord of all Grigori?” Lilith laughed mockingly.

  Raphael smirked and retorted, “If I were your prince, then this conversation would be but imagined. You are a disgrace to our species.”

  They entered the palace and Lucifer directed several of his attendants to other tasks.

  “Lilith, have Raphael brought to my chambers.”

  Lilith frowned. “Lord King it was my desire to query him before…”

  “Enough Lilith: you may sport with him later. Bring him now.”

  “Yes my King,” said Lilith.

  “So,” said Raphael. “You lower yourself from the position of Watcher to that of dog only to take orders from a rogue angel?”

  Lilith moved closer to whisper in Raphael’s ear.

  “Pray that Lucifer will be merciful, for I most assuredly will not.”

  Lilith shoved Raphael down to the floor and closed the door behind him leaving Lucifer and Raphael alone within Lucifer’s chamber hall.

  “Are you hungry?” asked Lucifer. “We are not graced to have manna which grows on Gaia, but I would be remiss if I failed to show hospitality even at this juncture.”

  “Keep your bread, ‘Lightbringer’. I am not here to dine with you, and what is Gaia?”

  Lucifer put down a glass of water he was preparing to drink. “Ahh, yes, I have determined that Earth is too trite of a name. Gaia would be more appropriate for my home. Of course that leads us to the real question my brother: why are you here?”

  “You are filled with wisdom Lucifer, but for all your fullness, you have filled yourself beyond measure. Save your melodious pretense. I know of your words that you have echoed about El, and more importantly ‘Lightbringer’, the Lord himself knows.”

  “Ah, so you have come to reason with me? Or perhaps you come to incite the ‘fear of the Lord’, into me?”

  Raphael spoke condescendingly. “The fear of the Lord does not dwell in this place Chief Prince.”

  Lucifer laughed. “Indeed it does, for my citizens clearly have demonstrated their ability to serve me, my friend.”

  “What do you want with me Lucifer?”

  I, Raphael, desire nothing more than your allegiance. What is thy desire? Are you truly satisfied to sit in the Halls of Annals and live vicariously through others? Would you not prefer to explore the stellar phenomena that you see through your great hall? I, dear brother, can offer you that. Observe and document?”

  Lucifer chuckled.

  “Imagine a world where you might add your own ideas and opinions to that which you see. How more colorful and varied such a universe would be to explicate and not just simply to document? Have you no judgment on El’s actions towards Abaddon? Was he not wrong to give the Earth to the humans? Or are you simply resolved to sit idle and watch our kind dissipate into oblivion only to serve as chattel? We are the superior beings. The strong ought not to bear the infirmities of the weak. Yet El would have us prattle to these creatures of mud and clay. Follow me Raphael, and we shall rule the heavens together.”

  Raphael watched Lucifer and was silent in his response.

  “I will leave for Heaven shortly. I leave you to Lilith who is most anxious to assume your role upon my ascent to the throne.”

  “You are mad Lucifer. You will never usurp El,” said Raphael.

  Lucifer turned to leave and looked at his brother.

  “What is madness? I merely speak those things that be not as though they were.”

  Lucifer closed the door behind him.

  Lilith walked with Lucifer as his master prepared to depart.

  “He is dangerous Lucifer. His presence could be disruptive. I would take his stone now.”

  “No. He is my brother and a Chief Prince. There will be time soon enough for dissolution, and when and if it comes it will be at my command.”

  “Yes Lord King. But may I suggest that a watch be placed to guard him.”

  “Very well, you and Abaddon see to his keeping. However, once you are done with him, I expect you and Astarte to return to Jerusalem.”

  Lucifer turned and raised his finger to Lilith’s face. “And Lilith…”

  “Yes, Lord King.”

  “Raphael is not to be harmed.”

  “Yes, Lord King.”

  Lucifer and Lilith continued to walk and entered the room where several of Lucifer’s lieutenants were laying out their plans.

  “Report of thy stewardship,” said Lucifer.

  Zeus was first to speak as Abaddon and several other angels looked on in smiles.

  “Our brother Cadfiel has developed a tool to assist us in battle.”

  “Really?” Lucifer said. “Show it to me.”

  Cadfiel came forward and placed before his master a plow shear, the blade had been straightened and beaten flat. It possessed a razors edge and the handle was stout and strong. Cadfiel laid it at the feet of his master and stepped away.

  Lucifer picked up the blade, held it high, and examined it as he turned it from side to side.

  “My brethren behold. An instrument of peace and toil now conformed into a weapon of liberation. This tool shall be a sword and the symbol of our righteous cause. Well done Cadfiel. You and Zeus see to it that our legions are outfitted accordingly. Spare no resource. You Cadfiel, I see have a unique gift. What name hast thou selected to dispense the stench of El’s ownership from thy stone?

  Cadfiel spoke immediately, “Ares, my Lord.”

  “Tho
u hast chosen well.” Lucifer replied, “And war chieftain shalt thou be.”

  “My Lord King,” said Zeus.

  “Yes, what is it?” said Lucifer.

  “How will we succeed in our invasion of Heaven? As the waypoint prevents our entering the realm en mass”

  Lucifer smiled. “You will not Ladder to a waypoint my friend. No. You shall bombard Heaven herself with our Ladders and within the great city walls and our legions shall appear and wreak havoc.”

  “Do you know what that will do the landscape and denizens of Heaven?” Zeus said.

  Lucifer frowned, “Yes, but it must be done.”

  Abaddon laughed.

  ********************

  Michael landed on the spot where Charon had fallen. His entrance was less traumatic to the ground than Charon’s own fall. Smoke hissed as the Ladder of fire and brimstone reached into the sky. The inferno of Hell’s entrails dug deep into the Earth’s crust.

  Soon she will hit the core and when that happens, he thought, Hell would have home on two planes of existence. He wondered to himself how a Ladder could be made within the belly of Hell and only one word came to the forefront of his mind––Lucifer.

  Michael moved a little away from the heated flue that towered into the sky and began to survey the area. If Charon had come here, where would he go? Michael turned to the east of where he stood and saw Athor gleam in the distance. He looked down at the ground and saw the long trail left from the heavy manacles that dragged behind the body of Charon. He followed them and the trail lead directly to Athor. Intuitively he lifted his body into the air and flew.

  Faster his wings carried him, and in the distance ahead he saw him. Hell’s warden marched on a path directly towards the quartz city. Charon’s trail was easy to follow as boulders and trees were smashed in his wake. The mark of his presence being the long segmented trail of his chains, as the barbs attached to the ends plowed themselves into the earth.

  Charon was easy to find.

  Michael thought to himself. God help him whom Charon finds. Michael had now caught up with this Elomic bulldozer. He hovered above him and examined the beast so unique among Elohim. Charon was unresponsive to Michael’s presence, his skeletal face vacant of any expression. There was no smile, no flushed cheeks, nor raised eyebrow that might cause one to perceive emotion. There was nothing but the continual plodding of the giant, and where Charon was headed, Abaddon could not be far.