Ragnarok: The Fate of Gods

by Jake La Jeunesse

  “You guys need some help?” Ariel asks.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Angels and Demons

  Pirates run from malak.

  Draugr block their path. Joel engages the monsters. Some of his men join him. They hack at the monsters, trying to break through. A few braver pirates taunt the malak. They bait the angels into fighting, then dodge the attacks. Buying time.

  Most of these pirates die.

  The draugr ranks break. Joel and the surviving pirates rush through. The draugr close in behind, but the malak plow through them. The pirates keep running. Monsters pick off stragglers, killing them with teeth, claws, and horns.

  Joel bursts into a small ring of draugr. They spin towards him, hissing excitedly. He looks around.

  He is alone.

  A single malak pushes through the draugr. Joel stands defensively. He may have no chance, but he resolves not to die without a fight.

  A rope ladder falls beside him.

  Without thinking, he grabs it and climbs quickly. Looking up, he can see a ship below the battle above him. It’s small, but not a fighter jet. It looks like a cargo freighter. Daniel stands by the open doors. He extends his hand down. Joel takes it. They pull the pirate into Quetzalcoatl.

  “Thanks for the lift,” he says. “What’s the occasion?”

  “Ariel showed up. She wants to meet with the generals.”

  A small ring of ships rests in the desert. Over the hill, the battle is loud.

  Gabriel, Joel, Jack, Daniel, Muriel and Dumah all form a circle, facing Ariel. She stands tall. The spear, Gungnir, is strapped to her back. A bundle of weapons rests at her side. She is dressed light, but strong. Ready to fight.

  A goddess of battle.

  “This is our only hope,” she explains, handing out the legendary weapons. She gives Mjollnir to Gabriel. “We only have a few weapons capable of defeating the malak, so don’t waste your time with the draugr. Let the others handle them.” She hands Excalibur to Dumah, Durandal to Joel.

  The pirate examines the sword. It is longer than the knives he trains with, but after a few swings, he appears comfortable with the blade.

  Ariel continues. “You don’t have to hit them hard. They’re not used to victims who fight back.”

  She hands Gandiva to Muriel. Muriel gently pulls the string back, testing the weight of the bow. “It’s very powerful,” she says, “but are you sure it will work?”

  “Positive. But you were going to fight them anyway, weren’t you?”

  Muriel grins.

  “Now go. We don’t have much time. Protect yourselves.” With silent nods, they begin to disperse. They load into the ships that will take them back to the melee. Ariel turns to Daniel, holding an automatic rifle. “This one’s for you. A special gift from Sandalphon.”

  “A gun?” She drops it into his hands and he nearly falls over. “It’s heavy.”

  “It’s made from the Staff of Son Wukong. The bullets can destroy malak, and it never needs reloading,” she explains.

  “Thank you,” he says. He turns to Quetzalcoatl.

  Dumah stops him. “Daniel, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

  “Yes?”

  “Our technicians have picked up something quite disturbing from behind the mountains. Could you, perhaps, check it out for us?”

  Metatron laughs as he pushes his sword down. “The trouble with being human is that you’ll eventually grow weary. My power is holy and infinite.”

  Zeke pushes back, keeping the sword from cutting his face. The malak is patient, showing no signs of fatigue.

  But the human is far from exhausted.

  Summoning a burst of strength, he springs up. Metatron’s hold is broken. The angel stumbles backwards.

  “I will fight you to my last breath,” says Zeke. He jumps forward. Metatron blocks the attack. He attacks again. Metatron steps to one side, dodging. He swings his sword. The flat of the blade connects with Zeke’s head. He drops quickly.

  “That would be the plan. Shouldn’t take too long.”

  “You’ll never win,” the wounded fighter responds from the ground. He stays down, presently too weak to get up.

  The malak sneers. “Even your verbal retaliations grow weary. Of course I’ll win. Do you intend to survive this fight and take on the hosts of God?”

  “I’m not alone. You’ve seen the size of the army you face.”

  Metatron laughs. “Oh? Your friends. Right. Let’s just see how strong they are.” He draws a circle in the void. An image appears. The Muselheim’s cannons fire relentlessly. Dragons fall from the sky, but some make it through. They land on the ship’s observation deck. Fierce malak dismount from the beats. A small platoon of soldiers fight off the dragons.

  Dumah faces the malak. He cuts them to shreds with Excalibur.

  The image dissipates with exploding white light. The malak draws another circle in the void. Attack vehicles charge the malak ranks. Gabriel, Muriel, and Joel hang out the sides, shooting, stabbing and smashing the demons as they pass. Light explodes again, ending the image.

  Zeke laughs.

  Metatron is unfazed. “A handful of weapons and you think you’re winning? How long can your friends last? I have more surprises remaining.”

  “Good,” Zeke counters, stalling for time so he can recover from the last blow. “I could use a good laugh about now.”

  “Would you laugh at the seraphim?”

  “Seraphim?”

  “The most powerful of all malak. Two of my seraph generals are already in the physical plane: Loki the Giant and Lucifer, Malak of Beauty.”

  He draws another image in the air. Zeke sees tall mountains. Sharp. Ominous. They reach far into the clear sky. On the side of a mountain, draugr and malak pop out of a small gate. The force already amassed is huge. At the head of the army, two powerful malak observe the scene.

  “Almost ready,” says the large one. Loki, Zeke guesses.

  The other looks ahead of the army. A bridge of rock reaches into a pass between two icy mountains. Below the bridge on either side is a fall of several hundred meters. “Have we been given the order to advance?”

  “Not yet,” says Loki. “But let’s go anyway. These peaks won’t be easy to cross.”

  “Fine by me,” shouts Lucifer. “Move out!” he calls to the army. The malak and draugr march towards the bridge, monsters still popping out of the small gate behind them.

  A lone figure steps out on the bridge. He raises a rifle.

  Metatron waves his hand. The image shatters and fades to darkness.

  “Ha!” Zeke spits. “I told you. You can’t win.”

  “So quick you are to judge the victor,” growls the angel. “The fight is not yet ended.” He turns quickly and attacks.

  Zeke leaps to his feet, blocking with his sword. He stops the attack, but it is strong. The malak pushes him back. Metatron swings again. Another hard blow forces Zeke back farther.

  The angel’s swords glow blue. He swings them, shooting a bolt of energy.. The katana swings fast. It hits the bolt, deflecting the energy back at Metatron. The angel stands fast. The blast hits him in his chest, absorbed into his body.

  The malak appears unaffected.

  Zeke doesn’t give him another moment. He runs at Metatron. The malak ducks, his shoulder connecting with the human’s waist. The powerful angel stands, throwing him into the air. Zeke hits the ground hard, several meters behind Metatron.

  Hitting hard on the nothing.

  “My five-thousand year life has taught me to keep a full arsenal of tactics on hand. I think you’ll like this next one.”

  Metatron conjures another image.

  Suspended in the universe, Samael the Destroyer stirs. He spreads his six swings. His neck aims a draconic head at the earth. He takes a deep breath in the vacuum. His chest expands.

  He bellows out, roaring in the soundless void. A thin beam of light shoots from his mouth, racing to the planet.

  On the battlefield, the sk
y flashes. A large, white blast of light falls. It hits the ground and keeps going. A cloud of draugr, humans, dragons, rock, dust, and blood is thrown up into the air.

  The hole is deep. Magma bubbles in its depths.

  Another blast hits the edge of the battlefield. Dragons and fighter jets are knocked out of the air. Lava explodes from the ground.

  The night glows a dull red.

  The mountains rise behind Daniel, cold and frosted. A thin ridge of rock stretches before him. This path is the fastest way through the mountains. It’s the only one an army has time to find.

  The boy stands unmoving.

  The seraphim’s laughter seemed to well up inside his head. Their pleasure was intangible. Inaudible. Ethereal.

  “Look at that. They’re already lining up to be killed,” says Lucifer. His voice is high and clear.

  Loki speaks in a lower, darker voice, almost a growl. “Hey you! I think your army got scared and ran off.”

  Daniel doesn’t move. “Didn’t come with an army.”

  Their presence in his head grows. Their psychic laughter becomes louder. “Did you come to surrender?” asks the giant.

  “Nope.”

  Lucifer turns to his comrade. “Are all humans this easy to kill?”

  “Poor guy is probably scared out of his wits. Let’s do him a favor and kill him quickly.” He shouts to a line of draugr. “First line! Attack!”

  Ten draugr obey the seraph. Ten monsters run to the bridge. Ten shots ring out in succession. Ten bodies tumble into the chasm below the mountains.

  “You will not cross this bridge,” Daniel says calmly.

  “What happened?”

  “It was just luck,” Lucifer says. “He can’t hold out for long. Attack!” Another line of draugr runs for the bridge.

  A bolt from Samael hits the ground behind the seraphim. The seraphim turn to see several draugr and a lone malak fall into a glowing red hole. “Damn it! Can’t he aim a little more carefully?” shouts Lucifer. As a seraph, he can will the malak back into the ranks, but the magma would destroy the draugr.

  He turns back to the boy. Loki is glaring. Seething. Bodies of dead draugr litter the earth in front of him. Daniel stands calmly, resting the rifle atop his shoulder. He kicks a corpse at his feet. It tumbles into the chasm.

  “What the hell?” says a bewildered Loki.

  Lucifer turns once more to his army. “Attack!” The entire host of draugr and malak rush the tiny ridge.

  Daniel starts firing.

  The human and the malak circle each other in the darkness.

  Metatron taunts his opponent. “How do you expect to win? I don’t need the stronger army. I can destroy your entire planet.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “Sanity is a human condition. This is my purpose. This is why I exist.”

  “You were human once.”

  “Chains I broke long ago,” sneered the angel.

  “You’ll never win.”

  “I already have.”

  “I’ll take you down myself,” Zeke says confidently.

  Metatron drops his swords. Instead of hitting the invisible ground, they fall away into the void. “Go ahead.”

  Zeke attacks, running. The angel dodges the attack easily. He grabs the sword by the blade and holds tight. The angel spins quickly, hoping to throw his opponent off balance.

  But Zeke holds fast.

  Metatron kicks. Both man and sword go flying. They land a short distance away. The angel’s hands bleed light.

  “You’re hurt,” Zeke observes.

  He raises a ghostly eyebrow. “Am I?” He clenches his fists tight, then opens them. He reveals his palms. The wounds are healed.

  The swordsman doesn’t stop to marvel. He jumps to his feet and attacks again. Metatron leaps out of the way with skillful speed. He retaliates with a punch. Zeke ducks. He spins, bringing his sword up fast. The malak claps his hands over the blade. It stops, held fast. Zeke’s side is exposed. Metatron kicks him hard. His body bends painfully. He falls. His sword tumbles beside him.

  “Frostbane was wrong,” Metatron laughs. “You never would have been strong enough. You can’t even defeat me now.”

  Zeke hides his pain. “You haven’t killed me, either.”

  “I don’t need to. You are powerless here. I am invincible. Go ahead. I’ll give you a free shot.” Metatron opens his arms wide and waits.

  Zeke gets to his feet, picking up his sword. He takes the shot. Metatron stands still. The blade pierces the angel’s heart. The starry void bursts with light.

  Immediately, he hears Metatron’s deep voice laughing. Behind him.

  He turns. The demon stands, arms crossed. He stabs again. Another explosion. “Above you.” Zeke looks up. Metatron falls toward him fast. He jumps to meet him, swinging his sword. The void bursts with light again.

  The angel’s voice comes through the darkness. “This is the world of the dead. You can’t kill me here. Now look. I have one more act for this two-bit vaudeville show. Do you want to see the power of the seraphim?”

  An image appears in front of him.

  A huge beam from Samael hits the earth. It leaves a gaping hole. In the distance, lava shoots from another hole. The battlefield has a distinct red tint. In the heat, thin clouds form.

  The gate cracks, although in the din, no one notices. Small points of white light fly out. One point seeks out a dragon. The beast evades pursuing fighter jets, but the light is too fast for it. It hits the dragon, burrowing deep into its chest.

  The monster glows white, like a malak.

  The dragon loses its balance and falls into another dragon. The two beasts merge. Their masses combine. They both glow white. Their form tumbles into another dragon. Then another. And another. The white mass explodes into being. It takes the form of a massive serpent, with a long body and six wings. The monster stretches out in the sky, dwarfing everything around it.

  Jormungandr, The Malak of Dragons, hovers over the battlefield, looking for prey.

  Another point of light speeds for the sea. It evades a beam from Samael. The shot hits the ocean, cracking the ice. Lava shoots up. Steam hisses. The point of light slams down into the depths. A moment later, water, ice, and steam explode up from the sea. Huge tentacles pull a massive sea monster above the surface.

  Leviathan, Malak of the Ocean, climbs onto shore.

  Gunshots echo off the mountain slopes. Draugr tumble into the chasm. Their bodies carpet the mountainside. Malak explode like fireworks.

  The assault lightens for a moment. Daniel lowers his gun. “You will not see the other side of this mountain.”

  “Like hell we won’t!” bellows Lucifer. “We are seraph warriors! No human can . . .”

  Crack!

  Daniel’s gun thunders. A hole appears in Lucifer’s head. He goes weak, limp. Then he explodes in an exceptionally bright flash.

  The gunner speaks to Loki. “You have lost half your ranks and one of your generals. You haven’t even scratched me. Give up.”

  The giant malak growls. “You will have to lower your guard eventually.” He raises his fist high into the air. “Attack!”

  Monsters rush at Daniel. He fires rapidly.

  Dumah’s platoon grows thin. The Muselheim’s guns continue to fight off the dragons and their malak riders, but many still land on the ship. Reinforcements have been called, but most of their forces are on the ground.

  The ones atop the ship can’t hold out forever.

  The general however, is tireless. His soldiers fire into a dragon’s wings. The monster bellows fire at them. They scatter. Dumah rushes the beast. It swings its claws, but he ducks and they pass over his head. Standing up, he hacks at the dragon’s neck. The powerful sword cuts easily through the beast.

  A strong gust of wind sweeps across the ship. Dumah struggles to keep his footing. Fallen soldiers and pieces of dragons slide off the deck. A voice wells up from inside his head. Turn and face me.

  He turns. Stand
ing on the far edge of the ship is a giant hawk, easily as big as three men. Its wings are spread out. Its talons claw into the steel hull. The entire creature is a pale white.

  A malak.

  I am Thunderbird, the Falcon Malak, came the voice. Face me, human.

  Dumah raises Excalibur, holding tight with both hands. Thunderbird flaps its wings, rising into the air.

  It dives.

  Jormungandr writhes through the sky. Blue flame spews from its mouth. It rages against the fighter jets. Planes melt. Pilots incinerate. The seraph roars. It looks down. Below him, soldiers scatter. Draugr run in fear. But one man stands his ground. He faces the giant malak, wielding a heavy war hammer.

  Amused with the miniscule challenger, the serpent dives.

  Gabriel attacks. Mjollnir comes down hard, but the attack is too small. It crushes a talon and the seraph continues unhindered. It lands, snatching its tiny challenger off the ground.

  The warrior struggles. The seraph lifts him close to its face, curiously examining the dragon scale armor. Gabriel brings the hammer down between the malak’s eyes. Jormungandr screams and drops him.

  An arrow flies. It grazes the serpent’s ear. The beast swings its head around, searching for the archer. As the huge neck passes by, Gabriel leaps. He grabs hold of the beast’s mane and climbs up toward the head.

  Mjollnir strikes.

  The massive seraph stumbles. It takes a few awkward steps. Gabriel strikes again. Jormungandr jerks its head, throwing the man to the ground. With a massive foot, it crushes him into the ground, impaling him on its claws.

  Nearby, Muriel watches in horror. The serpent tosses her father into the air and catches him in its jaws. Before she can fire her next shot, the monster swallows and leaps into the sky.

  She watches it fly away, then follows it on foot.

  A band of pirates fight an oncoming hoard of monsters. The draugr fall easily enough, but the malak are plentiful. Joel can’t fight them all at once.

  They lose ground. The malak push them back. To their left, a stream of lava impedes their escape. To their right, a blast from the Destroyer plants a new hole in the earth. Their only option is to flee toward the ice.