The Third Heaven: The Rise of Fallen Stars

by Donovan Neal

  Michael continued on his journey and began to approach the city limits. He settled down far enough and landed behind a tree to conceal himself.

  My clothes — surely I will be recognized.

  Michael stripped off his royal robes and laid them under a rock. With the colors of the Builder of Heaven from off his body, he pulled his cloak over his face and walked the rest of the way to Athor. Moving through one of the side city gates, he watched the hustle and bustle of the angels as they ran to and from their assigned tasks.

  Michael walked up the glass-lined street and saw Lucifer and Ashtaroth make their way to the front of the city gate. Several archons accompanied him including Murmur. Michael followed them as they made their way outside the city. He closed to within earshot and overheard Lucifer speak.

  “Lilith you may remove Raphael from my hospitality and find a room suitable for him. Since he has refused to worship me, you may dispense with him as you see fit. Are the swords ready?”

  “Aye Lord King. Zeus and the others are distributing them as we speak.”

  “Excellent,” said Lucifer. “You have done well.”

  Michael watched as Lilith bowed and left to attend to Raphael.

  Lucifer and his entourage leapt into the air and Ladders formed which lifted the trio out of sight.

  Michael turned to follow Lilith. His thoughts raced as to why his brother would be confined against his will. Was Lucifer seeking worship? Michael continued to follow Lilith through the various streets and avenues of the great city until a center palace was come upon. He watched as Lilith opened the palatial doors and walked inside.

  Michael studied the building and noticed it had few windows except at its peak. The whole structure had a transparency within it. Michael watched as Lilith ascended a spiral tower to the tallest room of the palace. The room was not transparent, and he wondered to himself if this was Lucifer’s private chamber. From the entrance of the room, Abaddon stepped out smiling and laughing.

  Abaddon has escaped, thought Michael. Michael looked up at the sun and realized that it was close to noonday. Charon would be within the city limits soon. Michael thought of a plan to secure Raphael’s release. He would use Charon’s presence as a distraction to secure Raphael’s freedom.

  Quickly he moved to an alley where he could not be seen, and dashed into the sky. He then landed by the tree outside the city limits, and found the stone where his royal robes lay. He dressed himself and made sure that his regalia would be noticed.

  Michael then launched himself back into the air and concentrated: moments later a Ladder formed. Michael entered the cone, and sound and lightning flashed behind him. Traveling beyond the speed of light, he turned his direction back towards Earth and focused his entry to the courtyard. There must be no mistake that the Builder of Heaven has arrived.

  The Ladder turned upon his command, and the planet loomed before him as Athor’s central court quickly sprinted into view. The sonic boom of thunder clapped, and Michael materialized in the center of town for all to see.

  “Hail. I Michael of the Kortai have come with words for Lucifer. Make way for the Prince of Heaven.”

  Immediately those that saw Michael looked as if they were undone. Some bowed, others looked frightened as if caught doing something amiss, but all stopped immediately to stare at the High Prince.

  Good, he thought. They were not expecting me. He spoke again, “To Lucifer’s quarters. You steward, attend me. Direct thy prince forthwith.”

  A Kortai warrior came quickly at the High Prince’s command and replied.

  “This way Lumazi.”

  Michael walked behind the angel, and they hastily came to Lucifer’s palace.

  “What is your name Kortai?” said Michael.

  “Iofiel, my Prince.”

  Michael looked again at the transparent quartz, diamond, glass, and emerald palace, made to house the glory of the Lord. Now it was Lucifer’s home while away from Heaven. Abaddon was nowhere to be found.

  He should be here shortly, Michael thought.

  Iofiel knocked on the doors, and both Michael and he could see that several of Lucifer’s vassals came quickly to answer the door.

  Michael dismissed him. “Thank you Iofiel you may return to your tasks.”

  “Thank you High Prince,” came the reply, and Iofiel paused, looked warily at Michael as if to speak, and then flew out of sight.

  Immediately the door opened, and Michael walked through not waiting for invitation and spoke.

  “Hail. The Builder of Heaven command’s audience with my brother Lucifer. Where is he?”

  Startled and tripping over themselves, the house angels stumbled over their words.

  “High Prince Michael,” said one.

  “Oh my,” said another.

  Several bowed as was custom when in the presence of a Lumazi; the others stood and spoke.

  “He is not here my Lord. The Chief Prince has taken leave of the palace, and we do not know of his return or of his…”

  Michael interrupted.

  “Your knowledge is not necessary. I will wait. Escort me to the guest room as my journey has wearied me, and I long for rest before my return, and I would see the palace designed for El once more before I take my leave to Heaven.”

  Michael immediately stepped to enter the winding staircase, and several of the angels scurried to go before him to slow him.

  “Ah my Lord, perhaps it would be best if thou retire to the main chamb…”

  “Nonsense,” said Michael. “Would you bar access to he who stands before the presence of God?”

  “Uh, of course not my lord,” said one.

  Michael reached the top of the steps and began to turn the handle of the door.

  “My Lord, please allow me to acquire linens and fresh manna for thy visit,” said the attendant.

  “You may depart,” said Michael.

  Quickly they ran back downstairs to parts unknown. Michael opened the door and stepped in.

  Raphael sat across from him, his hands were shackled, and his mouth gagged. Lilith stood over him and held Raphael’s inkhorn, stylus and tome.

  “What is the meaning of this outrage?” Michael demanded.

  Lilith smiled and spoke, “Please come in High Prince and join us.”

  “Explain yourself Grigori! Release the High Prince or be judged.”

  “Oh I think not my prince,” said Lilith.

  Raphael’s gag muffled his speech, but his warning to Michael was clear.

  Michael heard steps behind him and then a thud. Pain raced across the back of his head, and he fell hard to the floor. As he looked up, he saw the face of Abaddon who had pummeled him from behind with a statue. Michael smiled as he hit the floor and went unconscious.

  His plan had worked perfectly.

  Chapter Seven

  Nothing Covered…

  End of day Six.

  “Astarte we must complete the task for which we have arrived. Go to Talus; he will of course be surprised to see you. When you arrive, let him know immediately that you have word from me. Let him know that Abaddon has escaped the bowels of Hell.”

  Ashtaroth’s eyebrows rose and he cocked his head and spoke. “My Lord, I do not understand. Your desire is to inform him that Abaddon has been released?”

  “Yes Astarte inform him. As his mind is so clouded in his blind allegiance to El, he will not be able to conceive of such a thing and will undoubtedly accuse you of false assertions. His temperament is such that he will become agitated over such accusations, particularly from an Issi. He will temper his remarks at first, but press him Astarte. Press him and give him no quarter to mask his contempt of thy kind. Indeed, let him know the fullness of both Abaddon’s, and your own disdain for his leadership. Make him aware of his failure as a leader. Make note that the first of all Elohim ever judged spring’s from his house. Provoke him Astarte. Deride his race and his need for respect will incline him to lose reason, and when his reason is lost to him. He will be ri
pe for my plan.”

  “And what are your plans my Lord?” asked Ashtaroth.

  “Civil war my dear Astarte, civil war. For it will be in that moment that Murmur will escort Sariel to the house of Talus. Your timing must be precise, for I fully expect the words that I shall put into Murmur's mouth to provoke Sariel and Talus into confrontation. When that occurs, we will move against Heaven. In their confusion, we shall overtake them, and Heaven will be ours to control. Now go and delay not, for the time of our ascension is nigh.”

  Astarte bowed. “Yes my Lord.” He departed from the palace to make haste towards Talus’ abode.

  “Murmur come with me,” said Lucifer. “I desire that we use your gifts of encouragement and your ability to affirm to a different use.”

  ********************

  Ashtaroth went to the mansion of Talus and knocked on the ivory doors.

  An attendant answered, “Yes herald of Lucifer, to what does the house of Talus owe for this visit?”

  Ashtaroth bowed respectfully. “I bring grave word for High Prince Talus. My master would bear him news as to the happenings on Earth.”

  “Indeed? Very well then,” said the attendant. “Please come in.”

  Ashtaroth made his way into the palace and entered a room of white. Ivory and pearls adorned the walls, and the ceiling was translucent to the sky; the furniture plated in silver. Ashtaroth sat down and waited for the Prince.

  He did not have to wait long as Talus promptly entered the living room and greeted Ashtaroth with a smile.

  Ashtaroth stood immediately upon his entrance and bowed. “Lumazi.”

  “Please. Please.” Talus motioned for Ashtaroth to sit. “To what honor do I owe the herald of Lucifer, and an Issi no less that he would come to my home?”

  “I bring you grave news of Abaddon my Lord.”

  Talus frowned when he heard the name, his countenance visibly disturbed.

  “And what of our brother?” Talus asked.

  “Word has come from my master to inform you that Abaddon has escaped.”

  “Escaped?” Talus said. “Impossible! Escape is not possible from that realm. El has set at the Maw of the great mountain an Elohim who watches the way that none may enter, and that none may pass. You are mistaken.”

  “But my Lord, my message has come from the Chief Prince himself. I simply carry his word.”

  Talus rose from off the couch where he sat and towered in front of Ashtaroth.

  “El’s will be done. El has designed a creature who consumes the life of Elohim, a prison fit for one who cared not for the life of his own kind. No my friend, there is no escape from the creature. Abaddon is lost, for there can be no evasion from that which El hast made.”

  Ashtaroth rose to his feet, his face red with anger.

  “Mistaken?” Ashtaroth said, his voice echoed irritation for Talus’ suggestion that he spoke in error. “Nay, Lord Prince I am not mistaken, but thou hast confirmed what I have long suspected. You are robust in strength and power, but bereft of knowledge. I come to thee with word from the Chief Prince himself, and you would toss my words aside as if they were dung. My master has well spoken of thy kind. You are indeed deserving of the destruction that awaits you. For even now while we speak; the seeds of thy downfall are at work, and know oh great prince that thy end lies not far behind.”

  Talus looked on Ashtaroth with shock and teemed with anger that he would be spoken to in such a manner, but Ashtaroth did not stop and continued in his berate.

  “Even now as El is at rest in Sabbath, even now the Chief Prince moves to wipe from the heavens the stench of your foolish rule. Even now, Abaddon waits with a third of Heaven’s legions to overthrow you. Yet I stand before you as a clarion call to action, and you still stand resolute to die in ignorance.”

  Talus glared at Ashtaroth and his eyes were wide in astonishment and disbelief. “Would you provoke me Ashtaroth? Have you come to make light of El’s rule and of my own house?”

  Ashtaroth looked upon Talus and smirked, “Nay Prince of Buffoons. I would not make light of so contemptible a house absent of dignity and intelligence. Oblivion indeed awaits thee, and may it embrace you and all your kind.”

  Talus lunged at Ashtaroth; his anger boiled as a cauldron within him.

  Ashtaroth stood defiant and with a pleased look on his face waited for the blow that was sure to come. Talus with the back of his hand slapped Ashtaroth across his jaw and knocked the angel hard to the ground.

  Fueled by offence and insult, Talus’ eyes flared, and his voice turned heavy in warning. “I know not what breach of protocol you inflicted with Apollyon, but you stand before a Prince of God, continue to speak words of treason and division and know of a surety that dissolution awaits you,” said Talus.

  Ashtaroth looked upon the great prince. His eyes narrowed, and his mouth bled, and his bruised cheek ached, swollen by the impact of Talus’ blow. Ashtaroth spit blood on the floor, and looking defiant and unbowed, struggled to his feet. With resolution, he looked into the eyes of his prince and spoke.

  “I am not hesitant to answer thee on this matter, O prince. For know that although I be smitten by thy hand, your title is onerous to me, for thou art neither worthy of honor and are empty of distinction.”

  Talus hovered over Ashtaroth his hands raised to deal a blow of dissolution to so scornful an angel. Fists clenched and with a wail of rage, the mighty angel lifted his great hands to bear down on Ashtaroth.

  Talus in his anger did not hear the door open and failed to notice that the attendants’ of his house, Sariel, and Murmur stood in the doorway and watched in shock as Talus pummeled Ashtaroth with his bare hands.

  ********************

  Slowly Michael opened his eyes. His head was still sore from Abaddon’s blow. Groggy he awoke to see that he was not alone.

  Raphael reached with his manacled hand to hold Michael’s arm.

  “Move slowly my friend. You were struck from behind.”

  “Ah,” said Abaddon, “the prince has awakened. Thus begins the descent of the first of the High Princes. Your collaboration with El will soon come to an end.”

  Abaddon sat on top of a table, his mouth filled with manna leaf. He crunched as a cow that chewed the cud, and he leaned over on top of a long metal plow shear that had been beaten flat; its edge sharp as a razor.

  Michael slowly rose to his feet, but his strong arms were constricted by the chains, and shackles that gripped him tightly.

  “How long have I been unconscious?” Michael asked.

  “One hour,” replied Raphael.

  Michael looked at his friend and whispered. “We must leave with all haste, for Charon will be here soon.”

  Michael then looked upon Abaddon and spoke. “You are a fool Destroyer, yet I know that nothing but destruction can be spoken from thy lips. Release us I command you, and perhaps I will bring petition before the Lord God that He might spare thee from His wrath, which is sure to come.”

  Abaddon placed his hand on his stomach and broke out laughing.

  “You think I hold El in such esteem that I would entrust my fate to a God who would destroy me? Nay High Prince. I will never again bow the knee to such a being that would do nothing while my kind wastes away, yet has the power to prevent it. Never again will I worship a creature that would imagine so abominable a thing as Hell. I spit on his mercy. I have tasted his wrath, and I shall not taste it again. Soon He will be brought low. For the Chief Prince himself will take up my cause, and he will be God!”

  Michael looked on Abaddon and studied him intently. “Your doom is certain, and your conviction is sure. You simply do not know it yet, but rest assured your sin shall find you out.”

  Abaddon laughed and let out a loud burp from the volume of manna leaf he had digested.

  “Do you know what I have learned Prince of the Kortai? I have fellowshipped with Lilith, and he has gone to great lengths to show me the uses of these instruments of Raphael: his stylus, inkhorn, and tome: s
uch a wonderful gift from the Prince of all Grigori. However, Prince Michael, I had never thought I would be blessed to hold within my hands the Tome of Hell itself. My Lord King will enjoy this I am sure”

  Michael panicked for a moment, and then discreetly felt the inner folds of his robes. The key ring with the keys to Death and Hell were still fastened safely against his skin. He breathed a sigh of relief and glowered at Abaddon.

  Raphael spoke, “Abominable creature, I do not fear thee. The Lord rebuke you!”

  Abaddon laughed, picked up the stylus in his hand, and twirled the writing instrument between his fingers playing with the captured.

  “Are you aware Michael, that Raphael has the power to know all things present and that contained within this small tome, he carries the knowledge of all things? His tome is connected to all tomes. His is the sum of all knowledge that may be known. If I were to write in its pages, I may create using the power given to him by El. Did you also know Michael that Raphael was Sephiroth?”

  Michael looked at Raphael. He had remembered the living statue and the inscription at the bottom emblazoned at the base. ‘S-e-p-h-i-r-o-p-t-h’ it said, but he did not have time to question Raphael. Charon would be here shortly and escape was paramount.

  Raphael opened his mouth to speak. “You creature have not the wisdom to behold even a jot of the knowledge of God. May you find its value useless to you.”

  Abaddon replied, “Ah— that Grigori, is but a thin hope indeed, but fear not. After we have extracted from your tome all the information, we seek. Know of a surety that thine stone shall belong to Lilith.”

  Abaddon moved from sitting off the desk, rose to his feet, and walked over to glare at Raphael.

  “This tome is also a witness to the conspiracy of God. Contained herein lies the truth of the God king’s plan to supplant us. For from the foundations of the world, were we created to serves as ministers to the clay-borne, and this Raphael, Prince of all Grigori — you knew.”