The Stars Forbade Us

by Holly Wentz

  “Go on now.” He flicks his chin and releases her arms.

  She makes her way back to her pad and turns to find him standing as he had before, his back to the camp, as if she had never left the pad at all. As if he can hear her thoughts, he looks back over his shoulder, spearing her with an intense look and then, to her surprise, he gives her a lover’s wink before turning back to his guard post. Heart racing and giggles demanding release, Aliya snuggles down into the pad. Fighting to keep her eyes open so as to watch him longer, she slowly falls asleep.

  She awakens to utter chaos. A body has fallen over her, sending her and said body rolling on the ground. There is a heart-stopping screech from somewhere above her and she hears Marcy scream for Jack. Aliya finds herself being yanked to her feet from a strong jerk under her arms. As she stumbles to right herself, she looks at the scene from a nightmare unfolding before her.

  Kyle is just to her left, his back to her with one arm out as if to block her. The other arm is brandishing a torch, a fiery rod pulled from the fire. To her right, Marcy is inching back to her, her grip on Jack guiding as he also holds a burning log. La’sha blast past them in wolven form and leaps to attack what has descended upon Jack. The creature is the size of a small dog with wings made of black and grey feathers, its body scaled like a snake, and arms and legs of a giant rat. Its large beak is thick and wide with a brutally jagged curved point at the end. The rodentlike claws are long and sharp, slashing at the unwitting travelers. And when it opens its mouth to screech again, she sees it is lined with small razor-sharp teeth. An abomination, a flying one.

  Looking around for Ezi and Ar’aad, she realizes to her horror that they are being attacked by a flock of these creatures. The two angels had drawn swords and were making short work of the attack alongside Erech, who is doing a rather impressive job knocking any beast in range with his own flaming staff. Unfortunately, a couple of the flying Disgust had slipped past the battle and was on the attack for the mortals. Before she could react, Kyle took hold of her and pushed her down beside Marcy, who was crouched to the ground.

  “Jack, fall in behind me! Any that get past me, you take!” he shouts the order before making a crushing blow to the side of one of the foul beasts. It is pushed off course just as another swoops in behind it. The first makes to the side and swoops around to the huddled group, but Jack brings his own club down hard, crushing its skull. Kyle finishes off the last, and a short distance away, La’sha’s wolf tears another amid a disturbing pile of carnage.

  Arms wrapped tight around Marcy’s shoulders, she stands up and looks over to see Ezi sheathing his sword as the sun begins to rise behind him. Her heart does a flop to the side.

  Erech curses foully, throwing his makeshift club angrily out across the camp, “Good freaking morning!” he shouts and kicks one of the dead creatures before glaring over at her.

  Aliya looks around stunned. What was his problem? He tells her.

  “I’m so glad I’m here! I cannot think of a better place to be than right here in the middle of the Wastelands, sleeping in the dirt, and fighting off mutant flying rat … what the hell are those things?!” he gestures angrily at a few corpses lying on the ground near him.

  “I don’t know. Why are you yelling at me?” she asks, throwing up her arms in exasperation.

  “Because I’m not going to yell at them,” waving towards the mortals, “or them” waving at the angels, “or dick-hound!” flicking his fingers in La’sha’s direction.

  La’sha apparently has come to the end of his patience as well; for he suddenly turns and begins to charge Erech, who actually turns toward the charging beast, teeth bared and eyes aflame, ready to fight. But just as La’sha leaps, Ezi catches him around the middle, bringing him down hard. With his one arm around the wolf’s body, he places his other hand over the jerking head and snapping jaws, and speaks low in La’sha’s ear. The hellhound relaxes immediately and takes human form.

  Meanwhile, Ar’aad has placed a firm hand on Erech’s shoulder and pulled him back hard against his front. From there, the angel also begins to speak quietly in his ear. Erech visibly relaxes and lowers his raised fists. Sighing he seems to answer something Ar’aad has whispered by saying, “Yeah, well it doesn’t help being hungry.”

  Ar’aad, who had left the nephilim and had begun gathering and folding the sleeping pads, turns back with several papery pouches in his hands. Giving one to each of them, they found what looked like a cross between a rice cake and a thick pancake. “This is manna,” he says, turning back to the pads.

  “Can we help you?” Jack asks, his pouch not yet opened.

  Ar’aad smiles up at him from his kneeling position, and maybe it was just the timing of the sunrise, but Aliya swore the whole world just got brighter. Shaking his head, he politely declines as he folds the pad until it disappears.

  “Wow. That was cool,” Kyle says around a mouthful of manna.

  “Really cool.” Erech looks back at Ezi, “Are you sure I can’t have one?”

  “Positive,” Ezi replies before approaching her, like a thunderstorm rolling up, all heavy pressure and electricity.

  Manna forgotten halfway to her mouth, she stands in anticipation of his nearness.

  “Are you all okay?” he asks while maintaining his gaze on her, it is obvious he is asking after the mortals as well.

  Erech replies from behind him, “I’m not okay. One of those flying farts crapped on me and I think its poop is acid, it’s burning a hole in my shirt.”

  He calls this out while looking down at his shirt front, his face twisted in disgust.

  Aliya bites the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing. But when she hears Kyle sigh an exhausted, “Wow” at Erech’s narcissism, it’s too much and she begins to giggle. Her giggling sets off Marcy’s giggling, which makes Jack laugh and even Kyle chuckles. Erech looks up confused, La’sha snorts before turning to the road, Ezi shakes his head at them all, and Ar’aad smiles and says, “You are all very amusing—strange but amusing.”

  Then he gestures to the road, “Come along, strange ones, I would prefer we not spend another night out here.”

  “Is the Burning City close?” Kyle asks as he and Erech joins Ar’aad on the road.

  “No, but it is not so far that we could not reach it today. Barring no farther delay, we should reach the Chasm by nightfall.” Looking over at Ezi as he approaches with the females, he states cryptically, “It would be best that we not stay near the Burning City.”

  Ezi nods and Aliya can’t help but feel there is more to this concern than the inherent danger of the Second Gate. Before she can explore this farther, Jack asks from his place in the back, “Is this hell?”

  “No,” both angels, both nephilim, and the hellhound reply in unison.

  “Okay, then where is here? Purgatory?”

  “No,” Ezi and Ar’aad both reply.

  She looks back to see Jack’s brows raised in question and she tries to think of how to describe this plane.

  To her, and most likely everyone else’s, surprise, it is La’sha who answers first.

  “This is Maybe,” he states in his usual blunt fashion.

  “Maybe?” Jack asks as he walks beside him.

  Nodding his head in an almost absent manner, La’sha continues, “Yes, Maybe. Maybe hell, maybe heaven. Do not accept God but do not embrace the Devil. At the First Gate, it is Maybe, maybe up, maybe down. Now, at the Second Gate,” he points forward with his chin then shakes his head, “those who seek the Second Gate, they go down. If they come up, they do so crawling on their bellies.” His eyes flash and then he goes silent.

  They all walk onward, each lost in their own thoughts. As time passes, Erech and Kyle pick up a conversation on how to attract women. It is a conversation that Aliya is embarrassed to even be present for as Ar’aad walks along beside them, listening to their shallow and dismissive manner toward the fairer sex.

  He then joins with a question, “And these women, they are attracted
to you in this manner?”

  Kyle starts as if he had forgotten the angel in their midst, but Erech just shrugs, saying, “Attracted enough.”

  Kyle rouses to that, “Yeah, most girls are into guys like me.”

  Marcy snorts behind her, and she sees the couple, walking hand in hand, exchange smirks.

  Over his shoulder Kyle calls out, “Normal girls.” But Ar’aad is watching him hard and even Ezi seems intent on the exchange.

  Calmly, Ar’aad drops the hammer, “If that is what attracts ‘normal girls’ as you say, I would always seek out the unusual. For who would want to be with someone who chooses to be with a person who is callous and dismissive of them? How weak is the one who chooses an admirer who is so despondent of their worth that they choose an abuser, a cad as their mate.” He shakes his head in sorrow, saying, “That is a pitiful and lowly one indeed.”

  Erech just scoffs, “Whatever, oh heavenly one,” and flips him off; nice, real charming. But Kyle seems to have taken what the angel said to heart. He spends the rest of the morning in quiet contemplation.

  As the sun reaches it zenith, the Burning City comes into view in the distance. It is seated on the facing side of a high mountain that rises out of the desert floor in jagged waves, like a short row of uneven teeth. The city itself looks as if it were impaled upon the highest peak and bled down the mountain side all the way to the base of the stunted range. Although still a far way to go, they can see that the road travels directly to the entry of the city.

  Aliya feels a hypnotic draw to the pulse wafting out over the desert towards the little band of travelers. Tearing her eyes from the city she seeks out Erech, finding him staring off towards it, a dreaming soft look on his face and his body swaying slightly in the rhythm of the city’s throbbing beat.

  She then looks over to Ezi who had walked beside her that morning in quiet companionship. He is looking down at her with a concerned gaze. She takes a deep breath and smiles. With effort she creates a mental, dare she say spiritual, wall between her and the city. Feeling more centered now, she lifts her chin in defiance. She will never seek the Second Gate; any uncertainty she has carried over the age has been swept aside. Here in the lengthening shadows of the Burning City, awashed with its throbbing siren’s call, she can say with absolute certainty that she will never seek its streets and Lost Hopes.

  Reaching out, she takes Erech’s hand and squeezes it in reassurance. Not looking back, he returns the squeeze and begins to walk with her hand held tight. She looks towards Ezi to find him watching them with a strange look of satisfaction on his face. Closing the distance, he takes his place again by her side and leans in to whisper, “He finds strength in your resolve.”

  He smiles and nods towards Erech before looking at her in approval. If the moment had not been so profound, and if Erech had not held her hand in a death grip; if they had not been trudging towards the imposing mountainous cityscape; if not for all the circumstance, she would had done a victory dance right there in the middle of the road. Ezi approved of her; he saw her strong, a strength to others, a hero; all was right in the world.

  “Down on your knees with your hands on your heads!” the booming voice shouted from behind. Aliya closed her eyes in consternation; all had been right in her world for exactly one second.

  “You heard me. Do it!” the voice said over La’sha’s snarl, “Shut it, hellhound, you are outside your jurisdiction here.”

  “As are you, Guardian,” Ar’aad says, turning around as Ezi steps forward to stand beside him and confront this new threat. But instead of the linen and leather clothes they had worn since joining this gaggle, they now were both clothed in armor of gold and leather. The thick leather chest piece with gold shoulder pads and gold adornments that laid heavy and the swords that they had used earlier now reappeared in golden sheaths belted at their sides. His hand resting in silent threat on his sword’s hilt, Ar’aad watches this “Guardian” calmly over her head.

  “You keep post at the City Gate, Guardian. We have not approached your archway, nor do we intend to do so. Release the hellhound while there is still time to calm him. My companion can only affect him so much.” And he lays his other hand on Ezi’s shoulder.

  “My orders come from Lord Fallon. You will have to make your case to him,” the Guardian states, a trembling in his voice tells Aliya that whoever he was, he was caught in a place between the demands of two superiors. She almost felt bad for him, almost.

  “We are not entering the Burning City. Now you have a choice: you can release my companion and allow our group to carry on.” He holds up his finger—apparently the Guardian was about to argue, “And report to your master that if he wishes to speak with us, he can seek us out.” At this, Ezi glares at Ar’aad then shakes his head in annoyance, refusing to meet her eye when she tries to catch his gaze. “Your other choice is to fight us, to overpower us, and bring us in bondage through the archway. Can you do that, Guardian? Can you win in battle against me and my companion, as well as the hellhound and two nephilim? And even if you manage to do so, do you believe you could force them into bondage and bring them against their will to the Burning City?” At that last statement, Ar’aad gestures toward the three mortals.

  Marcy looks at him in complete confusion and Aliya cannot help but sigh in exasperation. The three most powerful beings in this realm are the three unjudged souls before them. They are the Image of God that has not been placed in Judgment yet. They are the ones to carry the Power of the Almighty’s Will, His Love and Fury and Creation, shining from them like the light of burning ember in the deep of night. And they have no idea. In a slightly jaded thought, Aliya cannot help but be relieved by that. There is enough havoc and trauma in this Realm with humans lost from God. Who knows what havoc could be wrecked by those still with potential to achieving Fulfillment.

  “My master calls,” is all that is said behind them then La’sha growls and stalks past them quickly, looking like murder and heading directly to the Burning City.

  “Enough, my friend.” Ar’aad says, catching him by the arm as he passes him. Aliya has a moment of concern for the angel as the hellhound turns his head with a vicious snarl and snaps at the stoic being holding him fast.

  But Ar’aad just maintains his grasp as Ezi slips around to the other side of La’sha and grabs firmly to the back of his neck before whispering in his ear.

  “I would pay good money to know what they tell him to calm him the hell down.” Erech says as the five of them watch the two angels bring the hellhound back from homicidal rage.

  Ezi looks over as Ar’aad and La’sha begin walking onward, and with the first genuinely humorous smile she had seen him give since their reunion he replies to Erech, “Wouldn’t work. He has a special kind of hate on for you. One from which, if you ever wind him up enough, there will be no calming him down.”

  He gives her a beautiful smile and holds out his hand for hers while gesturing the three mortals to follow the leading pair. She gives Erech a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before bounding over and taking Ezi’s hand. As they begin the journey again, she hears Erech clear his throat and simply say, “Good to know.”

  All goes smoothly as the little band of travelers leave the Path and begin to take a wide berth of the city. They leave it a good distance to their right as they begin a long arch around it. They had been travelling for several hours, the conversation flowing among the group that had begun to solidify in camaraderie. Kyle was walking with Jack and Marcy ahead of her and looked back as if to say something but instead his eyes went wide and he exclaimed, “What the heck is that!?”

  With the light in the sky fading, the shadows of the mountain abruptly begin to move swiftly across the flat sandy plane as if chasing them.

  “Whoa!” Jack pulls Marcy towards him, just as Ezi releases her hand and turns toward the shadow, drawing his sword.

  “You had to challenge him, Ar’aad!” he shouts over the growing roar that seems to emanate from the shadows. “You
had to push at him.”

  “I merely declined his demand, Ezi. He is too emotional. I suggest you take heed.” Ar’aad calls back calmly.

  Just as Ezi turns toward Ar’aad with a stricken look, they are engulfed in shadows and sand.

  There is a sudden and all-encompassing silence as the dust settles about them and their eyes adjust to the unnatural grey.

  Standing in perfect stillness among the settling dust and grit is a tall, lean male. He is wearing a black cape that hides him from the neck down and his chin is tucked into his chest. Slowly he raises his head to reveal a lean face that could have once been handsome but now is too gaunt, eyes burning white hot.

  “I am surprised to see you so soon, Ezi. Did you perhaps think to sneak past the City Gate? Did you perhaps intend to climb the steep wall above the Chasm and assassinate me from behind?” he hisses out as he moves smoothly towards Ezi, appearing to float.

  He throws his cape over his left shoulder and begins to reach for his sword. He is clothed all in black from the cloth and leather to the smoldering metal of his armor. His form is so lean he appears almost skeletal. Just as he begins to draw the blade from his sheath, Ezi speaks out, “Hold!”

  Bringing his one hand up palm out, he reaches for her with the other. “Hold. I am not here for your throne room; I have no wish for your assignment. I have no wish to be the Angel of the Burning City.” And then so quietly, she is certain only she hears him add, “Not anymore.”

  The terrible aberration stands again in perfect stillness, his gloved hand still holding his sword, two inches of blade gleaming silver from the blackened sheath. Then his blazing eyes travel to her and strip her. Instantly she feels it, the brutal mental claws slashing at her essence, the vicious spiritual jaws tearing at her being, the merciless eyes watching her very existence torn apart then it stops. She is blasted back into one piece, whole and unscarred.

  Looking, she sees Ezi is still raising his head from his horrible admission; everyone else is looking in different levels of fear, uncertainty, or in La’sha’s case, anger at the damaged figure before them. All but Ar’aad: he is looking directly at her and she realizes with a start that it was his eyes that watched what had just unfolded in that breath-span place between time and existence.