by Vox Day
The two Divine detachments were advancing quickly, and Christopher knew he had only seconds to make up his mind. Both targets were terribly vulnerable, but he could only aid one. He knew that military history called for saving the main body of troops, but in Warhammer and other games, a hero was worth more than a whole regiment of troops. The question was, what was true nature of this warfare? Was it fantasy or history that applied here?
Let’s see, he thought. I’m riding on a dragon’s back with a gorgeous devil-girl hanging on behind me. It was definitely fantasy, he decided, and he urged Leviathan to intercept the second group, the one stalking the rear guard.
“Melusine, get off now,” he ordered.
“No, I have to protect you,” she protested.
“Come on, I’m with Leviathan, for God’s sake!” he swore unthinkingly. “I need you to tell Kaym about that group of angels, there.” He pointed to the larger Divine detachment. “He can’t see them coming from there, and I’ll need his help if Leviathan and I can’t take these guys on ourselves.”
It was a lie, of course. Kaym wasn’t a complete idiot, and there was no way he hadn’t seen the Divine force heading towards him. Christopher just hoped Kaym would hurl his reserve into the gap in time, and keep the larger detachment from flanking the Fallen wedge.
“I understand. Be careful.”
He felt a soft pair of lips lightly caress his ear, then Melusine’s slender arms released his waist. He looked down and saw her diving speedily with her wings furled down towards Kaym’s position. Her body was exquisite, and despite the battle looming only seconds away, it was with some reluctance that he turned his eyes away from her and towards the enemy below.
He lifted Jehuel’s sword and easily transformed it into a giant lance.
“It’s too bad you’re not an ostrich,” he told Leviathan. “Or an emu.”
“What?”
“It’s a joke, dude,” he laughed, couching the silver weapon under his arm. They were dropping rapidly now, and Christopher was pleased to see that the Divine angels seemed totally unaware of their impending doom. In only seconds he was upon them.
Leviathan breathed three large bursts of orange-red flame as Christopher’s lance impaled two white-winged angels. They weren’t regular angels, he realized at once, but even the great strength of the stricken Powers was not enough to resist the terrible force of the blow, and they vanished in brilliant bursts of purple light. Shouts of surprise and dismay filled the air, and Christopher transformed the lance back into a great two-handed broadsword, and immediately began to lay about him.
He struck down three more Powers before the angels seemed to realize that they were in danger. Thanks to Leviathan, another thirty or so were discovering what lay beyond the Beyond, but there still remained hundreds of angels who were even now regrouping for a counterattack. Twenty fireballs suddenly arced his way, but Leviathan turned one head and breathed again, and the greater fury of his fire blotted out the Divine assault.
Leviathan had also eliminated all the angels within reach, so Christopher pointed his sword at the massed Powers and willed a score of thunderbolts into existence. He was pleased to see twenty silver bolts arc through the sky and obliterate fifteen angels. He blinked, shocked that his weapon had worked so well, and did it again. The second blast vaporized ten more Powers.
“The Lord of the Sword!” a white-robed angel wailed, and had just turned to flee when a third blast evaporated him and several of his fellows.
“Almighty One, save us from the fury of the Foe!” another Power cried aloud.
As others took up the fear-filled cry, the archon leading them realized that his Powers were not strong enough to face the combined might of Leviathan and what seemed to be a ranking seraph. Though four hundred Powers yet remained to him, he lifted a trump to his lips and blew the retreat. Christopher laughed when he heard the horn, and watched, pleased with himself, as the survivors obeyed with glad alacrity, speeding back towards the Divine lines.
“We have them now!” Leviathan bellowed with deafening glee. “Slay them all!”
“No, wait!” Christopher exerted his will and forced the great dragon to wait. It was hard reining in the ravenous beast, but he did it. “Look there!”
Miraculously, Kaym had managed to disengage the rear half of the main Fallen wedge, and had it moving now in a path that would cut off the fleeing Powers’ line of retreat. His rearguard of one thousand angels, meanwhile, had flown up to defend this new detachment’s rear and was desperately battling a Divine force of charioteers that outnumbered them five-to-one.
“That’s where we go!” he shouted, pointing towards the vicious fighting with his sword.
Leviathan resisted, though, as the great monster’s instincts urged him to chase his routed foes.
“You will obey me!”
Christopher cursed at his monstrous mount, throwing the whole force of his will behind the command, knowing that the battle might hang in the balance. At last, one of the dragon’s heads stopped straining forward and turned to the left.
“There will be a reckoning!” Leviathan hissed angrily.
“No, there will be a victory! For both of us.”
“We shall discuss this anon!”
“I’ll be happy to explain it to you later,” Christopher promised, hoping that the great beast would be in a mood to listen then. “Now go shred some white robes, O great King of Chaos!”
Kaym’s rearguard was decimated by the time they arrived, but Leviathan unleashed his ungodly fury on the Divine chariots, smashing flaming wheels with his great wings and tearing apart the angelic charioteers with his terrible claws. Christopher wielded Jehuel’s silver sword to lethal effect, and it was not long before the chariots were fleeing too, reduced to less than half of their original number.
“Who art thou?” shouted the ram-headed archon who’d been commanding the tattered rearguard.
“Just call me Ishmael, Goat-boy!” Christopher shouted at him. Leviathan’s bloodlust was contagious, and at this point, he didn’t care who he was insulting, or who he killed.
As he glanced past the Fallen captain, he realized that victory was close at hand. Kaym’s new detachment of mortals had smashed through the routed Powers, then curved around to strike the main Divine flank, and Asrael’s angels, outnumbered and outwitted, lost heart and began to flee. Christopher began to laugh, giddy with murderous glee, as his spirit burned with an insane lust for battle that nearly matched Leviathan’s.
As the Divine angels fled desperately away from the skies over the city of Aurora, a huge black shadow slashed again and again through the retreating Host, like a giant three-headed eagle wreaking havoc on a flock of helpless doves. The battle for Rahab was over, and though Asrael himself survived the day, his army was reduced to less than twenty thousand shattered spirits. The siege of Heaven would not be lifted, and the King of Chaos was free to soar through the darkening yellow skies.
Chapter 18
False Gods
Therefore pride compasseth them about as a chain; violence covereth them as a garment.
—Psalms 73:6
Holli had finally stopped crying, but she could still feel the taut track of dried tears on her face. Even though she hadn’t known any of the Lady’s people, the thought of their deaths hurt her deeply and she still couldn’t believe that they were all gone. It was not something she wanted to remember, but the sight of the Lord’s righteous fury was impossible to forget, no matter how hard she tried.
She shifted uncomfortably on Khasar’s broad back, trying to find a position that would put less strain on her aching legs. No matter how she moved, though, it hurt. Lions just were not built for riding, not even winged angel-lions, and she didn’t think Khasar would want to wear a saddle, not even if she asked him nicely.
“How long until we get there?” she couldn’t help asking, even though she already knew the answer.
“I don’t know,” Khasar replied patiently. “We’ll know w
hen we get there. It’s another hour to Prometheon, if that’s where we’re meant to go.”
“How will you know?”
“The Lord will make His Will known. Trust me. When I was young and foolish, I often questioned the Lord, thinking that my understanding a task was needful if I was to perform it. But I have learned that while it’s good to understand, it’s better to obey.”
Holli looked down. They were past the rolling hills now, and were flying over a patchwork of golden meadows broken up by a farm every now and then. Up ahead was a big patch of green that looked like a forest or something. Once, they flew past a small village and Holli saw people walking between the tiny buildings below her. She waved, but no one was looking up at the sky.
“Isn’t it, like, important to understand why you’re doing something?” she asked.
“Not if you’ve already been told what to do.” She felt Khasar shake his blue mane. “The Why is not important, only the What.”
“The What?” Somehow, she could hear the capitals in his voice.
“Of course, the Where and When can be important too. But not the How, that’s where faith comes in.”
“What?”
“No, the How!”
“Oh, shut up,” Holli laughed for the first time since leaving the tower. “You’re just being silly.”
“I am,” Khasar admitted freely. “But though I am a fool, there is truth in what I say. Understanding can mean many things.” Her sore legs twinged a little as he shrugged. “To know the difference between right and wrong, between truth and falsehood, well, those kind of understandings are important indeed. But, you see, it’s not important to know where we’re going right now, because the knowing won’t get us there any sooner.”
Holli frowned and blew a stray curl out of her face. “But it would still be nice to know how much longer it will be. I mean, I’m kind of sore.”
Khasar snorted. “Flying one daughter of the King on your back is much easier than two, but I do pray that the Most High will soon find some other way for me to serve Him.”
“I’ll bet!” Holli looked over at her sister, who was riding the white Archon in uncharacteristic silence. Jami was playing with the end of her ponytail, which usually meant that she was thinking about something. “Do you think Jhofor… Jhofor—”
“Jhofor,” Khasar cut her off.
“Okay, Jhofor then. Does he mind flying Jami too?”
“Probably not,” Khasar replied sadly, sounding put-upon. “You’re much heavier.”
“Did you say—I am not!” Holli cried, mortified. “Take that, you stupid cat-bird!”
“Ouch! The mane is off limits!” Khasar yowled. “Absolutely no mane-pulling allowed! Wait, no ears either!”
“Oh yeah?” Holli tugged at his little ears again. “Take it back!”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not heavy!”
“No, no, not at all,” he hastily agreed. “Light as a feather, one might say.”
“And… hey, what’s that?”
Holli leaned over Khasar’s shoulder, peering down at a flash of movement that caught her eye. They were high above the forest, and while it was hard for her to see anything past the thick blue-green mass of leaves that covered the tall elm-like trees, something was definitely there.
“There’s something down there, Khasar. Can you see it?”
The big Archon sniffed the wind, then glanced back at Lokhael.
“There is something foul down below, but I don’t recognize it.”
“Nor I,” the bronze angel replied as he drew his sword. “Let us descend, that we not fly into the arms of our enemies.”
Khasar pulled his wings in, and they dropped so quickly that Holli’s eyes teared up. They plunged toward the treetops, and she wondered if her heart would stop on its own before they smacked into a tree. But Khasar slipped through the trees without crashing, located a small clearing and brought them safely to the ground without injury. Holli slid off his back with a weak smile and a tremendous feeling of relief. The others landed only moments later, and Jami rushed to Holli’s side.
“What did you see? What did you see?”
Holli didn’t answer, instead she clutched gratefully at the hands that were holding her upright. Her legs were weak, and not just from the flying.
“Oh, that was just a bit too much! Can we please, please, pretty please trade next time?” she appealed to Jami.
Jami laughed at her, but put an arm around her and helped her stand up. Khasar and Lokhael were arguing about who would stay with them and who would go out to see what was hiding in the woods. Apparently Lokhael won, because she heard him mutter a hurried prayer before he ran into the forest. She tried to keep an eye on him, but he quickly faded into the blue-green darkness.
Lokhael had not been gone for more than a minute or two, and Khasar was still complaining to Jhofor when there was a sudden shimmer of light and a glowing blue disc appeared in front of them. Holli jumped, and Khasar quickly transformed into his human form and stepped between her and the light. But before anyone did anything, the newcomer materialized more fully and the blue glow disappeared to reveal a short, sturdy-looking angel holding a pair of short swords. He seemed tired, and Holli thought he looked a little bit beat-up for an angel.
“I know this one,” Khasar reassured her. “He is a friend, I believe.”
“Greetings, Rhamiel,” Jhofor called. “Is it well with you?”
“It is well, Archon Jhoforael, though it is my sorrow to tell you that this day our Host was defeated by the rebel armies. Although the Adversary himself was absent, we were routed before the gates of Aurora. Many were sent Beyond, and the rest now flee, scattered to the winds.”
“How can this be?” Khasar growled. “Didn’t Asrael join us?”
“They did, but we were outnumbered nevertheless. Matraya committed a foul blasphemy, ordering his minions to pollute themselves and endow countless humans with their immortal powers. They call themselves the Sons of Pride, and they are proud and mighty warriors.”
“No!” Khasar exclaimed, disgust on his face. Holli wondered what had grossed him out so much, especially since the whole Tower blowing up didn’t seem to disturb him. She shivered. If it was worse than that, she didn’t want to know.
“There is worse news. Leviathan, too, is free. Despite the Anakhim, we were winning the day when Leviathan appeared, bearing on his back a terrible warrior-prince who bore a lance of black fire. None could stand before him, not even the Cherubim.”
“Who was this warrior?” Jhofor asked gruffly.
“As we fled, we heard the armies of darkness cheering. The names were three; Prince Lucere, the Lord Matraya, and one unknown to me, called Baal Phaoton.”
“I do not know the name.”
“Nor I,” Rhamiel said. “We have heard word, though, that he comes this way. Now that the Crystal Tower has fallen, there is only one group of the Faithful left in all Ahura Azdha. They are nearby, in the city of Chasah.”
Khasar turned to Holli and nodded his head.
“You see, my dear, how the Lord guides us even now. We go east, but not to Aurora.” His blue eyes narrowed. “I have a feeling we will learn why the Most High sent you here when we reach Chasah.”
Holli nodded, but when she turned to look at her sister, Jami’s face was pale.
“What’s the matter?” she said.
“The snake,” Jami said slowly. “The second snake.”
“The what?”
But Jami only shook her head. Though Holli tried begging, teasing, and pleading with her, she stubbornly refused to tell Holli any more. Her silence upset Holli, but not as much as the look on Khasar’s face as he spoke quietly with Rhamiel. She looked away from him and stared into the dark woods, wishing with all her might that this was just a very bad dream.
Unseen and unheard, Lokhael was praying cheerfully to the Most High as he intercepted the path of five shadow-beings that appeared to be stalking the
two young ladies in his charge.
“O Lord, my God, may Thy servant be of use to Thee here tonight. Make of me a weapon against the foe, that all glory and honor should be Thine. Amen.”
The unwary demons seemed oddly unaware of his presence, so he allowed his weapon to flare and they started as if surprised, blinking their beady eyes as if the sword’s flames were too bright to bear. Strangely, they did not seem in the least alarmed, instead, they looked at him like wolves eyeing a helpless lamb. Their confidence puzzled the Guardian, who had sent hundreds if not thousands of evil spirits fleeing before him.
“Who art thou?” he challenged boldly.
The largest of the group, a horned beast-man with a brutish goat-like head, sneered at him. He held a heavy iron mace, and his shoulder was covered by what looked like a human skull.
“Stay out of our way, angel-boy, or we’ll have your guts for breakfast tomorrow. We know all about you, and you stupid little spirits aren’t any match for us.”
Lokhael felt anger rise within his breath. The beast was wholly material, but inside the massive, muscled flesh of the monster burned an eternal flame, that, to the best of the angel’s understanding, should not have been there. Such a thing was unheard of, and yet there it was, flickering mysteriously with an eerie green-blue flame. He glanced at the other four and they too bore the marks of the fire, though not so strongly as their leader.
“There is something… different… about you. What are you?”
The beast-man drew back his black lips to reveal yellowed, twisted tusks. It took Lokhael a moment to realize it was smiling.
“We’re immortals, you moron. Gods!”
With a loud roar, it launched itself at the angel, oversized jaws yawning dangerously wide. But Lokhael easily side-stepped the airborne monster and slashed his sword horizontally across its body, cutting through both the carnal body and the spirit of flame it housed. The flame was immediately extinguished, and as it disappeared, the mass of flesh landed heavily in a lifeless heap on the ground.