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Ragnarok: The Fate of Gods

Page 22

by Jake La Jeunesse


  “They don’t seem like a violent bunch,” observed Jack.

  “I don’t think they want to use them. They’re very ornate. Maybe they’re just decorations.”

  “You have a good eye for beauty,” said Elijah. He and Daniel came through the door from the infirmary. “But unfortunately, we do not keep them for enjoyment.”

  “Oh, Mr. Sandalphon. How is Zeke?” Ariel asked.

  “He is doing well. Our skills were more than enough to repair his wound.” Elijah smiled. Although he appeared very young, he spoke slowly. Carefully. Like an old man in a child’s body. His aura felt comforting. Almost fatherly. And Ariel felt a wave when he told her Zeke had recovered.

  “So if you don’t mind me asking,” said Jack, “what is the arsenal for? Some of your boys have a mean streak in them?”

  Elijah laughed politely. “No, we try to avoid violence. We hold these weapons because of our duty. We have been entrusted as keepers of an archive of lore. I believe you’ve heard of this, The Book of the Angel Razael.”

  A look of worried recognition flashed across Ariel’s face. “That’s the book from Rome. The one the Karellan has now.”

  “That’s right. Are you aware of its importance?”

  Ariel shook her head, knowing only what Micah had said years before. “No.”

  “It is a book containing the wisdom of God. The long-forgotten power that created this world. It is a book of magic.”

  A hush fell over the group. No one was sure how to react to the thought. Even Daniel seemed to be hearing this for the first time. Magic was unheard of, but they had witnessed some strange things recently. Could it be possible?

  “Once, long ago, we lost the book. It was taken in battle, and those who lust for power used it to create powerful and dangerous weapons. Those are the weapons you see before you now. It was our duty to reclaim them. We spent several thousand years searching, but finally we found them all. Now, we simply protect them.”

  Ariel looked at the spear, resting on the wall. Created with the wisdom of God? she thought. She slowly reached out to touch it.

  “I see you have taken an exceptional interest in this one,” the sage noted.

  Suddenly aware that she was being watched, she drew back. “Oh, it’s nothing much. Just an old habit.” During the war, training with melee weapons was required of the resistance fighters. Under-funded and under-supplied, ammunition shortages were a constant threat. Most soldiers blew off melee training as a joke. But for Ariel, it meant extra time with Micah. He had said she was a natural lancer. Almost a shame that she fought with a rifle.

  “It is a fine weapon, as far as weapons can be fine,” explained Elijah. “This one belonged to a powerful ruler from the north. He named it Gungnir and claimed that when used as a javelin, it always hit its mark. He had given the hammer to his son, also a very powerful man. That one is called Mjolnir.”

  “They have names?” said Jack.

  “Of course they do.” He picked up a slim broadsword from its hooks. “This blade is Durandal. The bow is called Gandiva.” He nodded to the sword near the spot Jack leaned against the wall. “That was the sword of an English king. It was once called Caliburn, although you’re probably familiar with a different name.”

  Ariel paused for a minute, thinking. Caliburn?

  “Excalibur?” she asked.

  Jack jumped, as if the sword itself might attack him. “Holy sausages! King Arthur’s sword? The real thing?”

  “None other.” Elijah gave a slight nod.

  “I get it.” Jack strode forward, confidently. He spoke like a cop interrogating a suspect. “I understand. Your job is to cover up history, right? To hide the past from the world? Convince us it never happened. Well I’m on to you! I just have one question, buddy.” The enthusiasm in his voice disappeared instantly. “Why on Earth would you want to do that? That’s crazy. Even I don’t believe that.”

  “Our job is merely to guard the tools that humanity may use to destroy itself. That is all. Memory is a poor facility of the mind, I’m afraid. Over time, all stories will either fade into legend or be forgotten. Yet, it is merely a side-effect of our task.”

  Jack gaped at Excalibur. “I’ll bet. It’s going to take me a while to get used to this whole King-Arthur-was-real thing.”

  “You’re more of a blunt force kind-of-guy, though,” said Daniel. “Maybe you’d prefer this.” He motioned toward the staff, grinning subtly.

  Jack walked to the staff as Elijah explained, “That is the Staff of Son Wukong. I recovered that one personally. I walked all the way to China for it. It has the unique ability to extend or retract to any size the user desires.”

  “Now that’s a weapon that fits me perfectly,” Jack said proudly.

  A familiar voice joined the conversation. “I’ll agree with that. Son Wukong was the king of the monkeys.” They turned. Zeke stood in the infirmary door, rotating his bandaged arm.

  “You’re okay!” shouted Ariel, running to him.

  “I feel great,” he said in disbelief. “I thought it would take weeks to recover.”

  “Oh no,” said Elijah. “We can’t have that. We’ve got a special task for you.”

  “Yeah, about that,” Zeke started. “Now that I’m awake, how about explaining why everyone under the sun seems so interested in me these days?”

  Elijah nodded gravely. “Please, Master Branderlief, come with me.”

  The old man led them deep into the earth below the island. They walked through a labyrinth of unmarked hallways, down countless flights of stairs into sub-basements that must have stretched deep beneath the sea. By the time they reached the dead end, only Elijah remembered the way back up.

  They were on the threshold of another world. The air was thick and salty, but not like the open breeze on the ocean. It was stagnant. Silent. Dead. The sage stood at the end of the hallway as if it were another door. He reached out his hand and gently touched it. The wall began to ripple, as if it were a pond disturbed by his touch. The ripples grew larger until the wall vanished, revealing another long hallway.

  Only Jack seemed surprised, and then only slightly. This tomb-like labyrinth felt unearthly. Feats of magic did not seem impossible here.

  “Guarding the book was a task entrusted to me long ago when my brother, Enoch, gave in to its power,” explained Elijah as he led them through the hallway. “As I mentioned, I have failed to protect it in the past. Several thousand years ago our complex was breached in a battle. The book was stolen, but its captors did not understand its power. They used it merely to create the weapons, and nothing more.”

  Soon, the hallway reached another dead end. As before, Elijah reached out and touched the wall. This time, it burst into flames and disintegrated into ash in a matter of seconds. They continued down the hall.

  “However, three hundred years ago it was stolen again. The man who took it found the power to unify the world under religion. This man became the first High Theocrat. In time, he succeeded in using the book to summon the malak to the world, driving people to his church for protection. It made him very powerful.”

  On the surface, the suggestion may have been horrifying. In the labyrinth of tunnels, however, it was a grim reality. Daniel and Jack were not shocked to learn this. Zeke and Ariel had known it for ten years.

  “But although the Theocrat was more intelligent than any who had held the book before, even he could only employ a fraction of its power. He was not wise enough to learn the true nature of the book.”

  Zeke had already guessed how the story ended. “And then came the Karellan.”

  Around them, the hallway began to change into a stone tunnel. “I tried to stop it. When the resistance grew strong enough, I sponsored a mission to retrieve the book. Ezekiel, you were part of that mission.” He made no mention of Ariel. Perhaps even the wise Sandalphon couldn’t see everything.

  “But the mission failed,” continued the sage. “Rome collapsed, and the book was lost. But someone found
it. Someone wise enough to surpass the strength of the Unified Theocracy. That person is the Karellan.”

  The tunnel narrowed abruptly. Elijah again placed his hands, on the dead end before them. This time the rock seemed to push outward, creating a new tunnel.

  “Daniel has told me about his plans, and he told me about your fight with Metatron. I know he is intelligent enough to use the book for his own purposes. And although I can not say why, I also know he has chosen you to receive the power to fight the malak.”

  Zeke was not prepared for that surprise. “What?”

  “The Karellan chose him?” asked Ariel.

  “Yes.”

  Jack chimed in. “So just to check, I’m not the only one freaked out by all this stuff? Because you all seemed pretty laid-back about it until now.”

  The tunnel opened into a cavern, where a large hole opened in the floor beneath them. “Do not be afraid.” Elijah stepped into the hole. A strong wind grew out of the hole, pushing up on him, slowing his fall. The others hesitated, but followed. First Daniel, willingly following his leader. Then Zeke and Ariel.

  Jack was the last. “See? That’s what I mean,” he called into the ground. “Everyone is perfectly fine about leaping into a dark pit at the bottom of the sea?”

  There was no answer. “Fine,” he said, and leapt in after them.

  He landed soon after. The others had waited for him, Elijah still briefing them.

  “Whatever the Karellan’s motives are, he has given us a window of opportunity. The book has been damaged over time, and some pages remain with us. Those are the pages that deal with weaponry. They are the pages that teach physical strength and summoning ethereal power. In essence, they teach the power to destroy malak.”

  Ahead of them was a small door. Elijah approached it and pushed it open with his bare hands. Inside was a sturdy, concrete room. There was only one thing in this room.

  A pedestal with a thin section of a damaged book.

  “Ezekiel, the Karellan chose you for his plans. That means you are the only one who can receive this power. With these pages, you can learn how to destroy the malak and Metatron.”

  Zeke eyed up the pedestal. He approached slowly. This was the book he had been sent to Rome for. The book that put the Karellan in power and made him set loose the malak and the draugr. The book that led to the attack on Nifelheim. The book that led to Charlie and Emily’s deaths, and Jae-Hoon’s breakdown.

  He hated it as much as a human being could hate an inanimate object. Speaking almost without thinking, he said, “Give me one reason why I should accept your help. Give me one reason why I should use this book.”

  “The Karellan needs these pages too. Their power is the only way to stop him. Only by defeating him and recovering the rest of the book can we prevent the Resurrection of God.”

  That didn’t sound so bad. “The Resurrection of God?” he asked.

  “Yes. The Rapture. The end of the world.”

  Chapter Eighteen: The Governors’ Ambitions

  Castrating harpy bitch! he thought as Lilith burst into the office. Jae-Hoon never felt comfortable giving reports with her in the room. She had, in his opinion, reduced a noble and respectable man to a groveling bureaucrat.

  “Are you still obsessing about that silly data?” she asked snidely. The question did not come as a surprise. Both men knew she was there as a spy.

  “Actually, yes,” Dumah replied. “I was just debriefing Jae-Hoon now.”

  Hear that, bitch! cried out Jae-Hoon’s thoughts. Go run to your boss! The damage has already been done!

  “So everyone already knows about the Karellan’s hobby,” she said flippantly.

  Hobby? Devil woman! I’ll kill you! The Slayer screamed internally. He made me murder all those people! Hobby? You monster!

  Lilith continued, oblivious to the subconscious vilification. “Big deal. What are you going to do? Incite a rebellion?”

  “We have to do something.”

  She stood tall, hovering over her husband, who sat slumped in his chair. “Forget about the Karellan. It is not your place to question your superiors. You may not like the system, but you have to learn to accept it. You are part of it.”

  Dumah stood. At his full height he towered over Lilith. “That, my dear, is exactly the reason why it will never change.”

  “Ha! Take that!” shouted Jae-Hoon, surprised at his own outburst. The other two stared at him curiously for a moment then went back to their argument.

  “So you think a rebellion is the answer?” Lilith pushed past him and sat in his chair, swinging her feet up onto the desk. He dress slid back slightly up her legs.

  Neither man was interested.

  “Whether or not you convinced a handful of first class citizens means nothing. The Karellan will still have an army of supporters. What do you have? A second-rate militia equipped for fighting nothing more dangerous than monsters.”

  Dumah looked at her for a moment, dreading what he had to say. “No, you’re right. Rebellion won’t work.” He tried not to act defeated.

  She laughed. “Just as I thought. You don’t have any idea.”

  “I didn’t say that,” he countered. “We don’t have strength for a rebellion. But we might have support for an assassination.”

  Her eyes widened. Her feet dropped back to the floor. “You’re joking.” Silence. “You can’t kill him. He’s too strong,” she pleaded nervously.

  “Then we’ll have to find someone who can hold his own in a fight.” He turned to Jae-Hoon. “Do you think you’re up for it?”

  He hesitated. The Karellan was a fraud and a murderer, but he was still the Hierophant. To go against him would mean both hypocrisy and treason.

  Or atonement.

  “Don’t make me laugh,” said Lilith. “Pitting your Slayer against the Karellan? Not a chance. He is a survivor of the Roman Conflict. He trains every day. He’s just as strong as he was ten years ago. You’d need to find one hell of an assassin.”

  Jae-Hoon didn’t have to think. The idea hit him instantly. “Branderlief.”

  “What?” they said together.

  “The Karellan was in Rome? So was Branderlief. The Karellan trains every day? So does Branderlief. He’s the strongest person I know. He just has to be strong enough.”

  Dumah looked interested. Then his eyes dropped with disappointment. “He’d never do it. Not if I’m involved. He doesn’t trust me.”

  Lilith laughed. “That’s right. You can’t even ask him. Warrior’s pride, right? Or is it shame? Adam, you’re getting boring in your old age.”

  Jae-Hoon wouldn’t give up. “What about Daniel?”

  “The Raven of Memory?” asked Lilith.

  “Yeah. If Uzuki agreed to help us, Branderlief would probably agree as well.”

  “You want the Raven of Memory to help assassinate the Karellan?” She was astounded.

  “It would be perfect. Daniel knows all his movements. We could use him to formulate a plan. Or something.”

  “You want the Raven of Memory to assassinate The Karellan?” she repeated.

  Dumah looked at her and grinned. “You sound surprised. You didn’t know? The Karellan isn’t the only person with spies.”

  Her eyes widened with fear. She had entered this office with orders to talk her husband out of a rebellion, and had inadvertently talked him into an assassination. The Karellan is just as strong as he was ten years ago. What kind of spy was she, leaking information like that? Now they were hiring the strongest assassin they could find.

  “You’re going to get yourself shot for high treason,” she said, more concerned with herself than her husband.

  Dumah walked towards his door, taking Jae-Hoon by the shoulder. As he did, he spoke to Lilith, not looking back. “Thank you for your faith. I know I won’t get your support, but I at least need your secrecy. I’m sure you understand.”

  She did understand. Whether it was intentional or not, she had led these men to attempt an assassinat
ion. The Karellan need never know. “Fine. But you had better appreciate this. I’m going to get myself executed because of you.”

  Dumah turned back to her. “Thank you. I wouldn’t ask for anything more.”

  He followed Jae-Hoon into his reception area and let the door slide shut behind them. Then he turned to his secretary and said, “I need a messenger. Top-security. To travel to Rome.” The girl looked shocked. “Don’t ask, just find one,” he urged. “And no paperwork. Let’s keep this one under the table.”

  She left the room. Dumah waited until she was gone then turned to Jae-Hoon. “How are you doing? Personally?”

  “Me? What?”

  “You know what I mean. There are a dozen ways we could have broadcast the Karellan’s reports. I sent you to that cardinal because I knew you were having some issues. You wanted to talk to someone. Did you work everything out?”

  Jae-Hoon was grateful for his concern, but frustrated to report that he had made no progress. “He just gave me the usual routine. ‘Can a man judge God? We can not see his true purpose. ’ It’s the same thing I had been told for years. It’s what I used to believe. It really didn’t help.”

  Dumah motioned to the office’s small couch. They sat. “If it’s something you used to believe, why didn’t it help?”

  “I don’t think he understood my situation.”

  “He didn’t know what you knew?”

  Of course he did. He was the cardinal. He had been trying to cover up the Church’s involvement in the Karellan’s affairs. Jae-Hoon tried a different approach. “I tried explaining things to him using his own terms, but he still didn’t understand how I felt. He just told me that questioning the Church was hypocrisy, and that was a sign that I was weak.”

  Dumah let out an unexpected laugh.

  “Sir?” asked Jae-Hoon, slightly offended.

  “And you took that from him?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “Listen to yourself. Listen to the words you used. You tried explaining to him. He didn’t understand. You are one of the strongest, wisest people I know. It sounds to me like you went up there with something to teach the cardinal, and he was the one with the clouded mind. Did you really let yourself be called a hypocrite by a person who preaches compassion and secretly sends people to their deaths?”

 

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