by Greg Curtis
And before all of that, first he needed them free.
“Repeat it.” He bellowed it at them, forcing them to say the lines. For it was a mantra of a different kind. Used properly, believed in, it would allow the power of goodness to protect them from evil. The trick was to make them believe in the words. To know them for the truth.
“Louder.” He screamed it at them, knowing only too well the pain they were in but knowing there was no other way. “Believe it! Feel it! The instant you can accept that simple truth to yourself, you are free.”
“We were fools. All of us. We were chosen first because we are good and second because of our talents. Yet we believed it was our skills that were what the angels needed. Our arrogance is our downfall.” He could see the light dawning in their eyes as he told them again and again the simple and yet horrid truth. As they understood their own idiocy. Exact reflections of what lay in his own eyes.
As they recited the lines again and again, he told them each why they had failed. He called on every emotional crutch he could find. He called them weak and stupid, their anger adding strength to the chant. Mya in particular hated the concept of being considered weak, and he saw the rage building as she finally understood. Abrax too. Hermen reacted to the stupid part. Above all else he had always considered himself clever. Pride is a good servant and a poor master he had once been told. Now was the time for the servant to show his colours.
He told Lea he had failed his friends through his self-pity, and Grould that he had been blinded by his own ego. Each of them was appalled at the very idea of his words, as he intended. It made them angry, and they needed that rage. Because they had every right to be angry, with themselves and above all with the fallen. Their rage was righteous.
Yet it still wasn’t quite enough. He, through Sherial saw it clearly. For they had all been through too much. They like him had been beaten, hurt, humiliated and shamed. Failure ate at them, undermining their strength, their belief. And they had all suffered longer than him. They couldn’t quite bring themselves to accept his words. They needed something more, as had he. They too needed a miracle.
Mikel knew what they needed. Sherial showed him.
Finally he told them to accept the love of their angels. To welcome them into their hearts, for finally that was the only way they could destroy the demons that beset them. He told them that trust was the key, for trust was where he had made his greatest failure, and they had too. In order to let them in fully, they had to trust them completely, as they would their family.
And it worked. Slowly he watched them pulling themselves free of the evil that had enslaved them.
Abrax was the first, somehow his simple trusting nature allowing him to let his angel shine through him. There was a flash of light that they all saw through their souls, and a dark, shrieking shape that skittered away as fast as it could. Too fast for Mikel to see, but he didn’t need to see it to know what it was. Abrax screamed with wonder and shock, a bellow that would have put most lions to shame, and fell to his knees crying with relief. Tears of joy, the same ones that filled Mikel’s eyes.
The big man’s release was like a trigger for the others. For where Mikel had seemed different to them having been heavily branded by both sides Abrax was one of them, and he was slow. If he could do it, then so could they. The big man both stung their pride and gave them hope with his success. One after the other the brands fled them and the resultant cries of relief and joy were music to his ears. Ears no longer only his. He hoped the demons heard and trembled.
Mya cried out in sudden joy and relief, and he watched her fall to her knees like the big man, while her staff turned half the sky into an inferno of colour. Through Sherial he suddenly saw the single thing that had helped her break free, as she surrendered her power to her angel, and welcomed her love. For it was her strength that had held her down. More than any other Mya had the need to be strong, and never realised that the greatest strength comes from joining.
Grould too had a strength problem. But it was his self-control that was his greatest weakness. The need to always be in control of everything he did. It made him powerful, and perversely it had made him weak. Yet once he had surrendered that control to his angel, that demon fled like there was no tomorrow.
Hermen’s weakness was his intellect. It had always been. No matter how foolish, at his heart Hermen had somehow believed that if he could understand the universe he could control it. He alone when he broke through, managed to speak of his pain, crying again and again that he had been so stupid. Yet even as the others comforted him, they told him he was right. For he had been foolish to believe that he, or any of the created could ever understand it all. They weren’t meant to.
Then finally it was Lea’s turn. Too young and too frightened, he had the worst of it. For his weakness and his strength was the comfort he took from his companions. Yet he also controlled them, using them even as he cared for them. Now half his companions were dead, and he had to give up the sanctuary that those remaining gave him, in order to be free. But somehow, his angel finally shone through him too, until finally he was free.
And then in one glorious moment, there were six. All free, all laughing and crying with reaction, all suddenly one with their place in the universe. And as they slowly looked around, and shared the joy of freedom, of their angels and of love, that reaction began to overcome them. One by one the villagers fell to the ground, laughing, singing, crying, but above all else knowing the double joy of their freedom and the understanding of their angels’ love for them.
It was a joy to behold, and he watched with eyes wide open. Two pairs of eyes. For it wasn’t only his joy to watch. Sherial too was celebrating, singing deep within his soul. A triple festival of joy as she finally had her love freed of the shackles he had so stupidly allowed to be placed around him, as she had wanted and ached for him to be. Then there was the triumphant release of the others, and the hope of rescue for the prisoners ahead. But to make her joy complete she had got her man as well. When this was over they would be together again, for life. They promised that to each other.
Through her Mikel knew that the other angels too were celebrating this day. He felt them. Other young angels like Sherial, who had brought their own champions in to fight for the prisoners, and who like Sherial had known complete misery as they watched them both fail and then be enslaved. As they had seen them change from vital, good men and women to the broken and bitter wretches they had become. Though they hadn’t loved in the same way, their pain had been every bit as great.
Now their champions too were free, and the angels too were celebrating as only angels can. They were singing, a siren song of joy and glory, which in turn was affecting everything around them. The local region of heaven was fast becoming a block party.
Hysterical laughter began to overcome them all, and one by one they fell to the ground unable to fight back the tears of joy. Mikel in particular felt that wild and savage joy, as he had watched the others break loose. For now he knew he was going to defeat the evil and free the prisoners. And he knew how. The plan had come to him piece by piece as each of the others had freed themselves, inspiration born of hope. Each one of the villagers freed gave him that much more of a chance, and then they were suddenly all free.
He had a plan.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
“It is not because angels are holier than men or devils that makes them angels, but because they do not expect holiness from one another, but from God alone.”
~William Blake
“Sherial cannot enter the lair.” She was not allowed to, on a level that couldn’t be denied. Sherial was simply too good to even go near it. The evil repelled her, as did her goodness repel them. The demons truly were trapped in their little hell, surrounded and squeezed by a universe of goodness. “But I can.”
“I cannot overcome their evil, but Sherial can.” And that was the heart of the matter, an ancient riddle worthy of the Sphinx, but one that he had an answer to.
“At my heart is Sherial, through her love. Therefore through her I can overcome the evil of the demons, and enter the pit. With the knowledge of the others I can overcome whatever other defences they have.”
He repeated the riddle and its solution to himself over and over again, and with each repetition the feeling of Sherial’s love became stronger and stronger. Still it wasn’t enough, it would never be enough, but he would know that for his entire life, and strive always for more.
A sound, a feeling of unbridled power, caught his attention, and he turned. The titan was behind him, as he had known he would be. Mikel had asked for him to come, knowing this time he would, and also knowing why. The titans were like older brothers to the angels as they were in turn to humans. He protected them as they protected humans. Perhaps one day it would be humanity’s turn to be an older brother. He could only hope.
Mikel was unsure why the titan could approach this close to the hellish little nightmare over the ridge, possibly it was something to do with his nature or his strength, or possibly he was simply too far above angels and demons to care. Either way Mikel was glad. He needed Atal.
This second time Atal appeared different from the first. Though still built of the very rock and essence of the world, there was something new about him, something almost human. Yet it wasn’t the Titan who had changed, It was Mikel. For the first time he could feel some empathy, some kinship with the creature.
He was still powerful, in fact strength simply radiated from him. He still looked like a statue of living stone. But this time Mikel could see that he had some compassion, that he cared. He wasn’t blind to the fate of those inside the dark castle, nor was he unconcerned. But he also knew what was right and what wasn’t. It was written in the steely gaze of his diamond eyes. Which made it all the more interesting that he was here, looking almost as though he wanted to help. Something had changed for him, and yet only Mikel had changed. Was that enough to persuade him to go ahead with this mission? He wasn’t sure, but somewhere in the back of his mind, maybe in Sherial’s thoughts, he had the suspicion that it might be.
Mikel explained his plan to him, unsure why he bothered, the titan surely could have read every iota of it from his mind in the first billionth of a second. But perhaps it gave him a chance to repeat it yet again to himself, to check every single angle.
“Will you - ?” But even as he asked the question he knew the answer, for in some way the titan told him that of course he would. Why he wondered, had he bothered asking in the first place? But on that level of understanding that souls use, he also knew the titan was glad he had asked. The little pebble was finally showing promise.
And then he was gone, vanishing without trace as though he had never been, but Mikel felt confidence that he would do as he promised. Logically he wouldn’t, surely couldn’t do otherwise, and anyway Atal’s work was largely to do only what he would normally do anyway. To protect Sherial and the others, to rescue the good and to stop the evil escaping.
Next he called the others of the party to him. None of them would be going in, he knew that and so did they now, and he couldn’t help but know the immense wave of relief they all felt at that. They were free now, freed by his insight and their own understanding, and they knew they could never be caught again in such a way. Nonetheless they were still terrified of what lay inside that dark nightmare, even from the little they’d seen. They couldn’t face it again. They were only human. Sadly the same applied to him, and he had to go back in. Only Sherial’s comforting presence deep in his soul allowed him to do the unutterably insane.
The rest of the group were vital to him, to his plan. He depended on the knowledge they had already given him, the basics of their worlds’ development, and the understanding of how he could overcome their technologies. He depended on them to give him cover when he went in and hopefully as he came out, no small task when he knew the level of fear they all felt. He felt it too. He needed them to lend him their expertise when it was most needed. When he encountered anything he wasn’t prepared for, no matter what, they would have to give it, each and every one of them.
But perhaps most important of all, they would be the ones letting the prisoners escape, though he doubted the demons would understand that until much later. Then he hoped they would scream to the highest mountain. These five were his hole in the wall gang. While he entered once again, and hopefully raised merry hell among the demons, they would be using their own talents and the technology and magic of a million worlds to bore through countless tons of earth, directly to the dungeon cells. The angels in their souls would guide their sight and their arms, the titan would keep them safe, and the light of heaven and a choir of angels should draw the prisoners out like a magnet.
Perhaps the greatest wonder was that he knew the others would do as he asked, despite their fear. For they too were traumatized by what they had given into; shamed by their failure, frightened and angry. But they too all had true courage, the ability to face what they were most frightened of, and do battle with it. It was why the angels had chosen them. Courage too Mikel understood, is based on goodness.
But before they went in, he needed them all to be at their peak. They needed to have all their wits about them, and every piece of equipment that they could use. That he could use. The answer of course was obvious. They like he, were trapped here. Trapped as much by the fact that they didn’t want to risk leaving in case they lost the nerve to return, as anything else. But like him, each of them also had a bond with an angel. If they concentrated on their needs clearly, their angels would hear, and hopefully respond.
Actually he was certain they would, to the best of their ability, but there were simply some things they wouldn’t do. For a start they wouldn’t bring their champions weapons. Shields, tools, cars, anything practical, but not weapons. They were not gunrunners no matter how worthy the cause. But that was fine, they weren’t exactly going to war either. Not in the human sense.
Nor, he knew could the angels enter so close to the darkness as the humans. Though they could perhaps come close enough to do as he needed.
As if on cue, all of the villagers, once they understood his plan, knew instant success. He could see it in their eyes, in their faces as each of them made contact anew. There was something about angels that simply shone through everything they did, everyone they touched. Then again maybe it was Sherial’s love, running through him, allowing him to see what a mere human could not. Either way it was a glorious sight to see. Except of course, to a demon.
One by one the others rose, and walked away from him and the small village to pick up whatever they had requested. He alone could not be helped so easily. For what he needed was more than simply equipment; he needed his workshop. For he had to take what the others could provide him with, and adapt it to his own uses. Sherial he knew would not be strong enough alone. She could grab all of the equipment, of that he was sure. But she couldn’t construct a new workshop here, nor come any closer than the other angels, much as she might want to.
Sherial needed help. He needed help too. For that was the crux of the problem. Between him and the other villagers, they had six different understandings of the universe, as well as the angel’s own godliness. But for the plan to work they needed to be able to counter the fallen on every plane, and the demons had probably many more and different understandings of the universe to use. Hence they needed those defences.
Slowly he relaxed into a kneel, opened his heart as wide as he could and shared his thoughts with her, communicating his needs as best he could, and telling her once more of his love.
Sherial was he knew, always with him, sending him her love and comfort as she had from the start, and yet he still needed, yearned to welcome her more closely. He always would. The business part of him, that piece that was both human and a thief, came between them, so that when he wasn’t thinking about her it was as though there was a distance between them. And yet when she was with him, the thief was distant, as was everything else
of the human world.
Now was the time for him to start becoming whole at last. For the cunning thief and her devoted lover to become one, so that he could be everything he needed to be. It wasn’t easy, not by any stretch of the imagination. Discovering that he was in fact, two completely opposite people at the same time was confusing to say the least. But he was certain now he would succeed someday. It would take time. It would possibly take the rest of his life. But he would get there in the end.
Who and what he would be when he got there was another scary question. But nowhere near scary enough to hold him back.
“I am Sherial’s thief”. The new mantra came out of nowhere and yet it seemed to fit perfectly. He repeated it, feeling its rightness and allowing its focus to continue the task of bringing him closer to both his love and his duty.
As he began, the certain poetry in it appealed to him, as he realized he was indeed Sherial’s thief. He had stolen her heart, and in turn given her his. Then again perhaps she had stolen it. He was both the one who owned Sherial and was in turn owned by her. In the same way as he had stolen wealth and freedom, he had given the wealth to those who needed it, and the criminals’ freedom to people that needed justice. His whole life was in a way the parallel of his love. It was something he could finally accept.