The War in Heaven (Eternal Warriors Book 1)

by Vox Day

  “He is come,” the angels sang in voices that rang like celestial bells. “Praise the Lord, He is come!”

  Koser dropped his sword and fell to his knees as tears began to flow from his eyes. He raised his hands in worshipful relief, and saw that the angels were rejoicing, wildly, exuberantly. They flew ecstatic circles in the sky around the glorious figure of a man who was more than a man, the long-promised Son of God who was come for His faithful people at last.

  “He is come, He is come, and the victory is won!

  Sons and daughters of the King

  Lift your voices now and sing

  He is come, He is come,

  And the victory is won!

  Koser suddenly started laughing as he realized old man Havtah had been right all along. Not far from the shining Son of God were two pretty girls riding on the backs of winged lions, the very twins who had saved Chasah from the dragon. As Koser rose joyfully into the air, he opened his mouth and began to sing his own praises to the King, and he did not even notice as his earthly body was miraculously transformed into a glorious, godly vessel of the Light.

  Chapter 23

  Silence in Darkness

  Thou hast broken Rahab in pieces, as one that is slain; thou hast scattered thine enemies with thy strong arm.

  —Psalms 89:10

  The mood in the Fallen camp when Christopher arrived was full of unruly anticipation. Legions of armored angels flew patrols around the high walls of the Arx Dei, making sure that the remnants of Asrael’s shattered Host could not come to the aid of their besieged King. The legions were brimming with confidence, swollen with power stolen from thousands of angels sent Beyond, and eager to begin the final assault that would break this last bastion of Heaven and mark the dawn of the new era.

  Melusine was the first to greet him, embracing him warmly and pressing her luscious lips against his with a greedy fervor. She was as sensual as ever, and for a moment Christopher nearly forgot that he was looking for Kaym.

  “Phaoton! Everyone in Heaven is talking about you,” Melusine informed him, as she took his arm possessively. Her hand was tiny compared to his massive arms, but he was quite willing to go wherever she wanted to lead him. “There’s rumors that you’re to be raised to the Principalities, maybe even the Teraphim!”

  Right on, he thought. “Is Kaym around?” he asked.

  “Lord Kaym? Oh, yes, he’s here. I haven’t seen him around the camp, but I’ve heard that he’s often conferring with the Prince. He is much in favor now, so much so that I heard Lord Belial complaining to Baal Phaleg about him just the other day.”

  “What is Kaym anyhow? I can never keep all these ranks and titles straight.”

  Melusine shrugged. “I think he’s maybe a Domination. But rank means nothing compared to the favor of the Prince.”

  Christopher grinned.

  “Yeah, I noticed that. Do thou what the Prince wilt, for that is the whole of the law.”

  She grinned knowingly at him, and he patted her perfect little bottom, which lacked a tail now. He wondered why she wasn’t wearing it, or the little horns he’d seen in the past that was her future. He shrugged and abandoned that line of thought, for that way lay madness, or at least a mondo headache. The whole thing was impossible anyhow, the rational part of his mind insisted again. He happily ignored it . Carpe diem, he thought with savage pleasure. Seize the day, and the devil-girl too!

  The appearance of Leviathan must have caused a stir in the Fallen camp, because he hadn’t walked far with Melusine before Kaym appeared. The fallen angel stood out like a sore thumb amidst the robed and bejeweled angels, since he was back in the Aspect of the Rayban-wearing biker. His eyes were unreadable behind the dark lenses, but his twisted grin was still the same.

  “Welcome back, Christopher.”

  “His name is Phaoton!” Melusine protested hotly, but Christopher waved her off.

  “Kaym can call me whatever he likes.” He peered at his mentor’s face. “What’s wrong? Are you angry with me?”

  The fallen angel gazed levelly at him, with his arms folded and his pale face impassive.

  “No,” he said quietly. “Not at all. I am surprised, again, at your unforeseen power. I was not strong enough to stand before Leviathan, while you mastered him. I will confess to a certain amount of dismay, for it is always unsettling to see one’s protégé surpass one, particularly in such a spectacular manner. But I am not displeased.”

  Christopher was relieved. He was strong now, certainly. But he found it hard to believe Kaym’s humble words.

  “Is the Prince going to raise Phaoton to the Teraphim?” Melusine asked hopefully. “I heard He might.”

  “I cannot speak for the Prince, Melusine. But He is pleased, I think, that the rebellious Hosts were put to rout. Now He does not have to fight a war on two fronts, and all of our resources can be thrown against the King. Leviathan will no doubt play some part in His plans for the final battle, as will Leviathan’s master.”

  He gracefully indicated Christopher, who grinned widely and he nudged Melusine with his elbow.

  “Someone told me once that his lord was a generous one, and I’ve always found him to speak the truth.”

  Kaym’s wry smile became even more twisted.

  “Perhaps that is true. You will find out soon enough. The Prince sent me to find you and bring you to Him.”

  “Is He here?”

  “Yes, He’s in the Courts of Light.”

  “The Courts of Light?” Christopher was confused. “I thought that was back on… I don’t know, Rahab or whatever. It’s in Heaven now?”

  Kaym smiled and shook his head.

  “You may be strong, but you have much to learn, my precocious protégé. There is no here or there where Adonai Lucere is concerned.”

  The Shining Prince Himself was feeling rather well. He had the assurance of His generals that they could indeed find a way past the daunting walls of the Arx Dei, while Mahalidael now had the world of Ahura Azdha under the control of his iron fist. There had been losses, to be sure, there always were, but one Seraphim, a few angels, and countless mortal deaths were an excellent trade for Leviathan tamed, the Host shattered, and the Crystal Tower broken. Surely the King of Heaven was growing desperate, He thought with satisfaction, as His shining noose was wound ever tighter around the King’s Almighty throat!

  The Lady of the Tower had been a thorn in His own Shining side for centuries, ever since He had first revealed His Godhead to the People of the Golden Dawn, those favored mortals who were rightfully proud to bear His name. How dared she scorn Him, when even the rocks and mountains bowed before His radiance! Well, it was no matter now. She was dead at last, finally, gone the way of all mortals as her accursed gift of life had finally fallen, like the Tower of Qawah itself, before His servants.

  Three angels entered the throne room, and He chuckled as He saw His own beautiful face staring back at him. It was that useful mortal from the Adamite future, of course, accompanied by Kaym and another angel, one of the nameless multitudes of His legions.

  The mortal and the third angel immediately covered their eyes and fell to their knees, blinded by His radiance. Only Kaym seemed unaffected by the brilliant sight, though whether it was the dark lenses he wore or just simple familiarity, the Shining One could not tell. He nodded with approval, though, as Kaym joined the others, kneeling out of respect and duty if not awe.

  Adonai Lucere sighed and tried to decide which form of submission He preferred to see. Was it better to be worshipped out of awe-filled reverence, so intoxicating in its glorious immediacy? Or was it perhaps more satisfying to be magnified in a thoughtful manner, given solemn and sober homage by those who knew exactly who He was and why they worshipped Him. Both had their benefits, He decided at last, and really, there was no need to choose between them. Soon He would be the King of all Creation, and the planets themselves would sing their magnificent harmonies in His praise.

  “Rise and approach Us, Adon Christoph
er, who art called Phaoton!”

  The voice echoing from within the blinding brightness had the silvered melody of a church bell, and Christopher blinked painfully as he tried to face the light. He couldn’t see, but he hurried to obey and approached the throne with both hands over his eyes.

  “Prince, ah, Prince Lucere, forgive me, but the light… it’s too much!”

  The burning radiance faded a little, to a level that was almost bearable.

  “We are pleased with thee, Phaoton. Thou hast served Us well, far better than others in whom Our trust hath been ill-placed. Now all shalt know the favor in which We hold thee. Two legions shalt thou commandeth, subject only to the advice and counsel of thy mentor, Kaym.”

  “Two legions!”

  It was what Christopher had hoped for, but hadn’t dared to ask. Command, he’d learned, was the only way to power, command of yourself and those around you.

  “Yes, thou shalt take command of the legion that routed Michael’s Host before the Gate of Heaven, according to thy plan. Kaym hath told me of this, and also of the Sons of Pride. It is meet that a legion of the Anakhim, too, shall be thine.”

  “You shower me with blessings, great Shining Lord,” Christopher replied carefully. “But will the angels listen to me? The Anakhim were mortal once, and I think they’ll obey me all right. But I don’t know about the angels.”

  ‘Obey the master of Leviathan? Obey one who holds authority at Our command? Doubt Us not. But to place thy fears at rest, We give thee this as a mark of Our favor.”

  There was a flash, and Christopher felt a wave of heat pass quickly over him. His skin tingled, kind of painfully, like he’d just been sunburned.

  “Go now, Baal Phaoton, and taketh command of thy legions,” the Shining Prince commanded. “Thine is the honor of leading Our assault on the fortress of the King.”

  “Thank you, Majestic King!”

  Very cool! Christopher bowed as low as he could, then backed down slowly from the dais. When he turned around to face Kaym and Melusine, the devil-girl gasped and raised a hand to her mouth.

  “Phaoton, you… your skin! You shine like the Shining Prince!”

  Christopher looked down at his hand. Melusine was right. It was gleaming with a familiar metallic shine, and Christopher had to stifle a laugh. While he understood that the Prince was paying him a compliment, he felt as if he’d suddenly turned into C-3PO.

  He whistled three notes. “Wheet-whoo-wheet!”

  “What?” Melusine stared at him.

  “Oh, never mind, you wouldn’t get it.” He grinned at Kaym. “Hey, I guess Melusine was right. I’ve been promoted. We get to command the two legions that will lead the assault on the city walls tomorrow.”

  Kaym nodded, and Christopher saw him raise an eyebrow. Was he pleased or not? It was hard to tell. “Which legions?” he asked.

  “Um, one of Baal Chanan’s, I think. And we keep the Anakhim too.”

  But even as he answered Kaym, Christopher felt a sudden wave of weakness pass over him. His skin cracked painfully, and when he looked at his hands, he saw they’d turned a deep shade of red. He sank to his knees as Melusine was struck by the same unknown force, collapsing wordlessly into an unconscious pile of slender arms and legs. Only Kaym remained standing, though he swayed back and forth as he fought to stay on his feet.

  “Great Prince, what is happening?” he heard the fallen angel shouting towards the dais.

  The blinding light from the dais had disappeared completely, and Christopher could see that the Son of the Morning was breathing hard and clutching the engraved arms of his throne with knuckles that were white with effort. His handsome face was stricken, as if someone had punched Him in the stomach, and two ugly purple veins protruded on either side of His forehead. As Christopher looked on with horror, the Prince’s skin was suddenly transformed, from supple gold to a horny red substance that looked like painted pottery.

  “Ahura…” the Prince was moaning. “The world… My temple….”

  The Shining One pointed to the ceiling, to the alabaster dome that had once shown Christopher his first images of Heaven. As He whispered a painful word of command, the dome flared brightly and came to life, presenting a clear picture of the Fallen world of Ahura Azdha and its great, golden capital, Aurora.

  Aurora was tranquil, with the commotion of the last few days replaced by the People of the Golden Dawn going about their everyday business. The temples were packed with the Prince’s worshippers practicing their epicurean rites, the prosperous streets were filled with tradesmen and their customers, and the only sign of the supernatural was the occasional strutting Anakhim, walking through the city with lofty, godlike arrogance. All in all, it was a pretty, prideful picture of wealth and decadence that would have put Nero’s Rome to shame.

  Christopher, sprawled uncomfortably on the marble floor, watched as the white clouds floating slowly across the yellow Azdhan sky were parted with a mighty trumpet blast. A giant Divine angel appeared in the gap, holding a great scale aloft in one of his powerful hands.

  “Gabriel,” he heard Kaym mutter as they watched the far-off events unfold.

  On either side of the scale, there lay a single object. On the right was a sword, and on the left was a live white bird that looked like a dove. The angel of the Lord flicked the restraints away with his free hand and watched closely as the scale began to right itself. First the sword dropped lower, then the dove, but after two bounces back-and-forth, the scale came to a rest with the sword very much lower than the bird.

  Prince Gabriel raised his voice so that it could be heard throughout all the world, and the judgement rang down from the skies like thunder.

  “Wicked men of Rahab, the stink of your corruption has risen to the very heights of Heaven. You have been judged by the Most High and found wanting. You have chosen to follow a false sun instead of the true Light of the World, and your treacherous hearts have embraced the wickedness of the Dawn Prince. I say to you now, the sentence of death is upon this world.”

  The angel lifted the dove from the scale and it disappeared in his mighty hand. He squeezed, once, crushing the dove and a black rain began to fall from his fist down upon the city and the surrounding plains. It engulfed everything as far as the horizon. Wherever the rain touched, men began to sicken and die in agonizing torment.

  “This is the mercy of the Lord, which you rejected in your pride, refusing to repent of your unholy ways.”

  The cries of the afflicted were terrible, and the very mountains rang with their suffering. Only the immortals were unaffected, although even the greatest among the Fallen trembled before the righteous wrath of the Lord. They trembled and shook with fear, but were too full of pride to humble themselves, even as thousands of Aurorans died in awful torment all around them. But it did not take them long to realize that the black rain did not affect them, and with that realization their haughty confidence returned.

  Christopher heard the Fallen begin to curse the angel of the Lord, shouting terrible threats as they vowed to see him utterly destroyed, sent beyond the Beyond for all eternity. Those few humans who survived did not repent, but instead blasphemed the King of Heaven, swearing their undying hatred. And the howling of the Anakhim echoed from the mountains, drowning out the cries of their dying mortal brothers. It sounded as if the rocks themselves were slavering for Gabriel’s spirit.

  But the mighty archangel was unfazed by their threats, though his face was grim with purpose as he lifted the sword from its place on the scale. He held it high, as if saluting Heaven, before hurling it like a lance down towards the heart of the wicked city.

  “Behold, wicked ones, the judgement of the Lord!”

  Thunder boomed three times as the blade hurtled towards the great Temple of Light at the very center of Aurora. There was a mighty blast as it pierced the great golden dome, sending huge chunks of metal and marble flying in all directions. The force of the blow sent shivers through the foundation of the massive building, and hun
dreds of cracks began to appear throughout the structure like many rivers carving out new channels through a barren land.

  The cracks spread and widened, until they covered the whole edifice like a giant spider’s web. Then, with an earth-shaking roar, the great Temple of Light collapsed, burying alive the thousands of Auroran mortals who had taken shelter from the deadly rain of judgement. For a moment all was still, and Christopher thought everything was over.

  But the King of Heaven’s wrath was not ended, indeed, it was just beginning. Only moments after the last remaining temple stone had fallen, the ground itself began to quake. From the mountains to the valleys, from the central streets of wicked Aurora to the farthest reaches of the globe, from the deserts to the seas, Rahab began to shake. It shook and shook, until every building had collapsed and fallen, and there remained not one stone standing upon another. The mountains crumbled into the seas, and the mighty forests thundered with the splintering sound of great trees falling.

  High above the stricken world, in the hands of the angel of the Lord, the empty scale was transformed into a great ram’s horn. As the last mountain fell, Gabriel lifted the horn to his lips and blew. It was a great and terrible sounding, and even though he was safe, watching from afar in Heaven, the blast echoed in Christopher’s heart like the final trump of doom.

  And with that mighty blast, Rahab the wicked was shattered, broken into millions and millions of pieces, a mighty stone smashed into dust and pebbles. Its yellow sky boiled away into the pitiless blackness of space with a mournful sound, weeping for the world it no longer embraced. Where a world had once been, there was nothing but the void.

  “It is finished,” he heard Gabriel intone with solemnity, and even as Ahura Azdha perished, a second cataclysmic shock rocked the Hall of the Morning. He tried to roll over and get up, but the effort was too much for him, and he gave in to the cool temptation of the marble floor against his cheek. His eyes closed, and the Courts of Light disappeared.