by Billy Wong
"We'll defeat her, Prior!" one younger monk said, and he and his comrade thrust staffs at her. She caught them both under her arm, then casually snapped them. The junior monks' eyes grew wide as saucers and they fled.
"Demon Executor!" Blackbird cried, and punched at the Prior's chest. Henry imagined her hand bursting from his back in a crimson spray. But instead of following through with it, her fist stopped an inch from him. "Just kidding. I don't want to kill you. You think I'm a demon?" She grabbed his hand and pulled it against her ribs while he gaped. "Feel this. It's my heart, and it beats just like yours. Because I'm human just like you."
He drew a dagger out of somewhere and attempted to stab her in the heart. "Don't think you can fool me with your lies, succubus!" She caught his wrist. Bones crunched like kindling, and he fell screaming.
"That didn't go well," Henry said while they walked past the old man writhing in the dirt.
Blackbird dejectedly shook her head. "I had to try. I have been preparing speeches like that for different situations, you know. Too bad it didn't get through to him."
He patted her back. "Yeah, but I'm still glad to see you making the effort."
#
The agony subsiding enough for him to regain awareness of the situation, the Prior looked around. He realized the blasphemers were gone... and he still lived? Why hadn't the demon murdered him when she had the chance? Now he heard the young brothers calling his name, and knew they'd been spared too. But why, unless...
Maybe she wasn't a demon after all.
#
The four returned to the castle, where Michael greeted them wearing an apologetic expression. "You're not going to like this, but we got a message from the church saying they have one of your friends." He handed over the note.
For Blackbird and the Three Sidekicks
I have your friend Ronald. If you ever want to see him again, come to the small cave just north of the abandoned mine as soon as you get this.
Signed,
GRENDEL
"Again, already?" Henry said.
Andrew scowled. "That guy's still trying to mess with us? Doesn't he realize we're out of his league now?"
"It's probably be a trap, and I doubt he'll be alone. We should be careful."
Kara asked, "Are we going, knowing it's a trap?"
"Since he has Ronald, we kind of have to. It might not be easy, but we just need to have faith we'll get through." He paused. "I'm kind of surprised he didn't tell us not to bring Blackbird. That worries me because if he wants her there, he must be pretty confident..."
They returned to the familiar hills. Reaching the cave, they kept their eyes out for signs of an ambush, but saw none. They found Grendel waiting seated on a rock shortly past the entrance. Henry thought to warn Blackbird not to attack yet, but to his surprise he didn't have to as she stood back at the ready. She had changed and become more mature.
"Where are your friends?" Andrew asked. "Tell them to come out so we can kill them.""
"I'm not with the church anymore. You know that thing you fought? They tried to turn me into it, but I managed to escape. So I guess they used some other unlucky fellow.
"I don't have your friend either. I just knew he wasn't with you and said that figuring you would come."
"Then we'll kill you and avenge our friends!" Andrew pointed his tube at Grendel and his finger tightened around the trigger.
Blackbird put a hand on his arm. "Wait. I hate him for killing Uncle Pete too, but by admitting to not having Ronald he has to know he's making himself vulnerable to us. I want to at least hear what he wants to say that he's willing to risk that."
"Tricky bastard," Kara said. "So you just wanted to talk?"
"Talk, yes... more specifically, to enlighten you. You've done admirably against the church, but did you ever stop to think why they acted the way they did?"
"Because they're greedy, power-hungry assholes!"
He shrugged. "Some of us are. But another reason we created the false angels was to preserve society."
For some unexplainable reason, Henry felt a sense of dread descend upon him. "How does that help 'preserve' society?"
"I'll explain slowly. There are some people who have visions where they can see into God's realm. You've heard of them, yes?" Henry nodded, and Grendel picked something up from behind the rock on which he sat. When he unfurled it, Henry realized it to be a painting. "This was done by one of our people who has that ability, twelve years ago." Pictured was a huge golden figure striding forward through a valley barely large enough to fit it, with tiny winged beings flying around it and a brilliant silvery light shining from the background. This must be a depiction of God, reigning over his angels...
Grendel put the painting away and produced another. Gloom filled his voice. "This was done by the same person three years later." He revealed the image.
The giant figure lay on the floor of the valley, limbs splayed at unnatural angles and skin now gray rather than gold. The angels were nowhere to be seen and the bright light gone, the sky dark as if overcast.
Henry felt numb with shock, then chills ran through him as dread replaced it. "That can't mean what it looks like it does, can it?" he asked, his voice small.
"It does as far as we could tell, and has been reaffirmed by the visions of others. It appears God is dead."
Blackbird stared. "God dead, really? That's impossible, how do we know you aren't lying?"
"After my falling out with the church, what reason would I have to lie? I risk my life just meeting with you, especially given I thought you'd be more short tempered."
"B-but how's that possible... how can God die, and why did this lead to the church acting the way it has?" Even as Henry asked the latter, though, he began to get some ideas.
"We do not know how it happened." He looked down. "But our actions which you decry have all been to keep the world ignorant of God's demise and maintain its stability. Every person puts their hopes in His protection and favor—how much less hope would humanity have if they knew He was gone? The people we silenced with death were ones with the gift of visions or their kin who we could not trust to keep the secret. And the creation of 'angels' with artifacts? It was to replace God's miracles which would no longer come, with another source of encouragement to keep the faith in Him. Needless to say, you have strongly impeded that. By the way, not even the angels themselves know of this; only our leaders, and a few who accidentally found out such as myself."
Henry's mind continued to reel. What could possibly have caused God's death? How and when would this begin to affect the world, if it hadn't already? Did this mean everything was about to end? He managed to sputter, "N-no wonder the church only recently adopted its policy of destroying artifacts. You had just decided on your plan of making your own angels."
Grendel shook his head. "Not so. Most were reluctant to commence the angel project, and it only came to pass after our desperation grew enough. But we knew we might need power from whatever source was available before then, and thus sought the artifacts."
"But wait," Andrew asked, "aren't the sun and the moon God's eyes? How are they still in the sky if he's dead?"
"Those are just silly legends. God does—did—exist, but not everything you heard about him is true. Your sister died about nine years ago after entering the holy water, didn't she? I suspect she saw something wrong in His realm and decided to go there in an attempt to help, though she was not successful."
Andrew's face fell. "If you're telling the truth, then I really did pursue vengeance blindly. She wouldn't have wanted me to begrudge the church." He sniffed. "Sorry Eileen, I've failed you..."
"Don't feel bad," Kara said, hugging him. "Just because they had a reason, doesn't mean what the church did wasn't wrong. The lengths they went to—killing children so they wouldn't speak out, murdering people to wrest artifacts from them—weren't warranted in order to keep a secret. Even if the secret is as monumental as that."
Though he had to consc
iously keep himself from shaking, Henry nodded. "Even knowing what we do now, we shouldn't fault ourselves for what we did. We took the correct path based on what we knew and I believe we still are. The world doesn't need the church to baby it like you were saying, Andrew. The truth will come out eventually. When it does, even if you can't have faith in God anymore, I'd like to think we can have faith in ourselves and our fellow humans." And no matter what was to come, they couldn't give up. They, and hopefully everyone else, would continue to strive with all they had to survive and prosper.
"So this changes nothing?" Grendel asked. "Your leader died willingly thinking we were right."
"He did? I suppose I can understand." Though he didn't agree, his sad heart swelled with admiration for Pete's selflessness. He looked at his friends. "We... maybe we could request more leniency than we would have for the church leaders who survive after we win." The others didn't seem to disapprove.
"But you'll still see this battle through to a conclusion."
Blackbird said, "We kind of have to. If the church is allowed to regroup and build back its strength, I doubt they'd let things go and they'll probably try to take control of the country from Prince Michael's family. The conflict could drag on for years, and that would hurt the populace much worse. So while we can, we need to end this."
"Don't worry," Kara added, "we're not anti-religious, not even Andrew—right, you think people should be free to believe what they want?" He nodded slowly, no doubt questioning himself after the revelation. "Even if God's death becomes known, I'm sure religion will live on. People are imaginative, they'll just put their hopes in God resurrecting one day or something."
Grendel shrugged. "Perhaps you're right in the end. I hope you are, at this point."
"Why did you tell us all this, anyway?" Henry asked.
"After fleeing from the church, I came to admire how well you acquitted yourselves in your struggle against it. So I decided you should have all the information you could to help you decide your course."
"Thanks for that," he said to his longtime enemy. "What will you do now?"
"I don't know yet. But maybe I'll start a church after the old one falls... with a promise of God's resurrection, as your friend suggested." He smiled weakly, and after a moment Henry gave a short nod. For all he'd thought about killing Grendel, he believed what he had said about Pete, and couldn't find much of the old anger inside himself anymore.
"I guess he isn't so bad after all," Blackbird mused as they left the cave, "even if he ran me through."
"Nobody cares about you getting stuck cause you just shrug it off and act all cocky after," Andrew said. "Just kidding, though. I actually like you a lot, you know. I'd be really sad if you died, or I couldn't see you anymore."
"What?" Kara asked. "I like her too, like a protective big sister, but what's with your attitude change?"
"Even though I can't really forget about her costing me my arm, my gratitude has outweighed my anger and I've actually considered her a friend for a long time. I just liked to give her flack because, well... I guess I'm kind of a petty person. But now that we know God's dead, we should be less petty and come closer to each other.
"Though Henry, I still question the wisdom of you wanting to-"
Henry cut him off. "Shut up, not right now! That first part's a nice sentiment."
"I agree," Blackbird said in confusion, "but what was that 'shut up' about?"
Kara draped an arm over her shoulders. "It was nothing, stupid man stuff. Things us gentle ladies shouldn't hear."
"Oh, I get it. So we're going to keep helping Prince Michael, but should we tell him about this?"
Henry thought about it for a while. "No, I don't think we need to yet. The truth should and will come out, but as long as we aren't killing people to prevent it, we aren't obligated to speed it along. If it becomes known naturally so be it, but we hardly need to go out of our way to distract everyone before the war is won."
#
They returned to Septapolis. Prince Michael finished gathering the army he'd lead into what would presumably be the final battle, and they marched. Though used to traveling long distances, Henry and friends struggled with the unaccustomed colder weather—except for Blackbird, who as always brushed it off.
After walking desolate paths for weeks which seemed an eternity through wintry fields, Batrecar came into view. Past its rough sprawling walls, the sky seemed to stretch into infinite grayness like in the painting of dead divinity. Archcardinal Demetrious appeared atop the wall over the massive iron gates, purple scepter in hand. "You blasphemers dare to revolt against the servants of the Lord? Then come, and see how much power God still holds in the mortal world."
Prince Michael's attack started with artillery and archers peppering the city while a ram was deployed against the front gate. The church defenders replied with arrows and catapults of their own. Screams rose on both sides and multiplied to saturate the air. Even after all the death he'd seen, Henry wasn't used to this. He cringed while waiting with the others for the order to advance. When the gates finally burst open, out rushed church cavalry, hammering into the invaders to slaughter the ram-bearers along with many others. Infantry followed, crashing like a steel tide over the front line. Everything was clanging, shouting chaos as Henry fought, his friends around him but blending into the churning sea of allies and foes alike. Blood sprayed from flesh torn beneath his sword. He got a sense he would have died several times, if not for someone else saving him with a timely parry or block. Likewise he protected Andrew and Kara now and then, and on occasion others too.
Blackbird didn't need much help. She was a whirlwind of death, bodies falling ceaselessly around her when it seemed like she'd hardly touched them, and more and more those who found themselves in her way tried to just turn and run. Even so Henry strove with his all to keep up with her, and so did Andrew and Kara. Though they might not be as strong, they'd do everything they could to keep her safe. That was what friends were for—and, they would also be safer themselves just by being near her.
Men and women who resembled the descriptions of remaining "angels" emerged from the ranks of the enemy. The four rushed to engage them, only to be surprised when no noticeable artifact powers were brought to bear. Huh? If there was any time to use them, it should be now... Despite this the angels were still more skilled than Henry, Andrew, and Kara, and it usually took a team effort on their part to bring one down. Yet they proved lacking compared to slain elites like Rodrick, and Blackbird cut them down like grass.
The church lost ground. Michael's force pushed deeper and deeper into the city, the prince's gory mace rising and falling tirelessly at their front. Blackbird had underestimated him after all. They approached the harsh dark church, all pointed spires and sharp angles, at the center. Demetrious called to them from beside the bell at the very top. "Rebellious children! I invite you to meet me within for the ultimate test of heresy against faith." He disappeared from view, presumably back into the church.
Henry and friends headed for the door, soldiers on both sides parting for them. "You want help?" Michael asked.
He figured they were likely walking into a trap, and didn't want to endanger any more allies than necessary. "Wrap things up out here. If we're not back in thirty minutes, then take your shot at the old man."
They didn't need to go far before spotting the Archcardinal. He stood before the altar at the back of the main prayer hall. Behind him loomed a mural of God reaching his hand down towards a fallen angel. As they advanced, he asked somberly, "Do you understand why it has come to this?"
Henry said, "Yes. Your reason was understandable, but that doesn't make you right. Still, we don't have to take your life. You should surrender."
"So you do know. But, you offer mercy? Foolishness. Do you think I will allow the world to believe that God's power is weaker than yours? After today the world will once again know His power."
"What are you talking about?" Blackbird asked. "That's not going to hap
pen. It's over."
"No." All of a sudden his scepter glowed bright. He slammed it down to ring against the floor, and the golden light washed over him. The wrinkles on his face became less; his skin smoothed, and his robes hung less loosely from him as his body seemed to fill out.
Andrew gaped. "He's getting younger?"
The no longer old man, appearing in his forties, held the scepter straight and proud. "This is the Sovereign, the greatest of artifacts, which has absorbed the powers from dozens of angels. Now all you blasphemers will know despair, hopelessness, and death."
"I don't like where this is going..." Kara whispered.
Demetrious spread his arms. "Wings." Huge white feathered wings burst from his back, and he levitated towards the ceiling. He looked up. "Mind." The center of the roof ripped away and he ascended slowly, deliberately towards the hole. Andrew fired the tube at him. Demetrious turned an open palm his way. "Shield." The metal projectile stopped dead before touching him and dropped harmlessly to the ground. He rose into sight of the armies outside.
"Behold," he said in an effortlessly powerful voice. "I have been chosen by God to become His archangel. Flare." He swept his arm before him, and multiple booms sounded. Scores of fresh screams could be heard as if he'd bathed the city in flame. "Prince Michael, you supreme fool. I will destroy your entire army if they do not yield—after I return." He descended back into the church and landed. "Now do you see the futility of opposing God?"
"What you're doing is dishonest and wrong," Henry said. "God wouldn't approve. We won't back down no matter how strong you are."
"Wind." Massive gusts blew out from where he stood, first blowing Andrew from his feet, then also throwing Kara and finally Henry to the edges of the room. Blackbird still advanced against the wind while they struggled up. "Quake." Henry tripped as the earth shook, smashing his knee painfully on the wood. He saw that everyone had fallen except Blackbird who wobbled trying to keep her balance. He grew angered at Demetrious naming each ability he used, as if to gloat, I can tell you everything I do, yet you'll still be powerless to stop it.