by Jason Tesar
“You mean, when I speak for the Holy One?” Enoch quickly clarified.
“Yes. He speaks through you and sometimes His words are difficult to hear. But that is not your fault. You are not to blame for our decisions. It was our choice to come here, to disobey. The longer you stay out here, the easier it is for us to blame you instead.”
Enoch turned his head and looked up at the angel who towered over him, even in a sitting position. “The ways of your kind are complicated.”
“And the ways of your kind are simple,” Ananel added. “But I admire that. I know you don’t wish to deceive anyone. I’m only suggesting that you continue to live among us. It is safer for you to remain familiar.”
A murmuring sound to the north had now grown into a commotion. Enoch leaned forward and looked past Ananel toward the city, but he couldn’t determine the reason for the noise.
Ananel rose to his feet and looked north, holding his hand to his brow to block the afternoon sun in his eyes.
“What is it?” Enoch asked.
“It’s Jomjael.”
“Who is he?”
“We sent him and a few others to spy on Semjaza. It looks like he’s returned and there are human women.”
Enoch stood up and came around the tree.
“Lots of them,” Ananel added. “Come little one. It’s time to go back.”
CHAPTER 21
SOUTH OF SENVIDAR
The pungent odor came suddenly to Batarel’s feline nose, bringing him to halt.
A few yards ahead, Tamael lowered his nose to the grass and a quiet growl escaped his throat. His head turned suddenly, then he began to move toward a hiding place nearby where a dense tangle of vines cascaded down from the limbs of a massive tree.
Batarel followed his friend into the bright, green strands of concealment. Crouching low to the damp earth, they both waited.
After a few seconds, a tall figure moved out of the trees on the other side of a clearing. His dark and muscled form was difficult to see against the background of jumbled branches and leaves, but even at a hundred yards they could tell it was one of Semjaza’s Anduarym. He was moving quickly by virtue of his enormous stride, but didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Neither did he appear concerned about moving with stealth.
When the soldier had retreated into the distance, Batarel turned to his friend. “Spy?” he whispered as quietly as his animal vocal chords would allow.
Tamael nodded. “We will have to be more cautious from here on out.”
Slowly, the two rose to their paws and crawled out into the open. Despite the confidence they had in their animal forms, which gave them a sensory advantage over anything else in the forest, they continued with caution to the north.
~
In the gathering mist of the afternoon, the two creatures came to the last of a series of mountain peaks just south of Senvidar. As they began their ascent from the foothills below, the breeze shifted slightly, bringing warning of a nearby threat. Batarel looked to Tamael, whose fierce golden eyes were narrowed, while the whiskered skin of his face twitched.
Tamael growled and bared his teeth.
Batarel knew instantly what it meant. For years, they had hunted together and their coordinated efforts had always been successful. Communication was no longer necessary, it had become habit.
The two animals, whose agile and powerful bodies were designed for silent movement and rapid attack, moved in opposite directions.
Tamael crept slowly, straight up the incline toward the enemy. His striped fur faded into the mist and the mottled brown and green colors of the forest.
Batarel turned westward and trotted quickly through the trees, leaping from clearing to clearing. When he’d gone a safe distance, he turned north and headed up the incline much faster than Tamael had done. Using the soft pads of his feline paws, he moved silently through the labyrinth of vines. As he climbed, the mist grew denser, reducing visibility and distorting the way sound traveled through the air. Batarel smiled inwardly as the environment began to favor his superior sense of smell. After long minutes of cautious footing, he topped the ridge and paused as a shift in the air took the scent of the enemy away. But a low sound to his right told him that he was very near his objective.
With unmatched agility, he scaled the thick, twisting trunk of a nearby tree. Between the digits of his supple feet, deadly claws dug into the bark, steadying his movement along a thick branch that intertwined with that of another tree. In this way, he moved across the remaining distance of the ridge to find his enemy almost directly below him.
There were four of them—all Anduarym. They crouched before a low mound with a clearing to the north, watching the Myndar city which was partially obscured by the mist rising from the earth.
Batarel quickly estimated the distance he would have to jump, and found it to be well within his ability. When the breeze shifted again, he picked up Tamael’s scent mixed with that of the Anduarym. Knowing his friend was in position to the east of the soldiers, the time had come to attack. He focused on the nearest of the group, crouched low, and readied his powerful legs for the leap.
Out of the mist, Tamael came at a full run, so quickly as to have appeared from nowhere. By the time the soldiers recognized the movement, they only had time to turn slightly in his direction and bring their arms up in defense.
Just as Tamael lunged to take the nearest soldier by the throat, Batarel launched himself through the air and landed on the back of the Anduar nearest him. Immediately digging his claws into the soldier for leverage, he bared the ten inch daggers in his deadly mouth and thrust forward, clamping down on the back of the Anduar’s neck.
The soldier instinctively dropped and rolled, using Batarel’s momentum against him.
Struggling to maintain his grip, Batarel felt his body fly through the air as his claws and teeth slid easily through the Anduar’s flesh and were suddenly free. There was a second of weightlessness, then the crushing impact of the ground as he landed awkwardly on his side and rolled onto his back.
From the corner of his vision, he saw Tamael pushing one of the soldiers backward, violently wrenching his head from side to side. The soldier’s throat tore and splattered blood on the ground and leaves as Tamael’s growl filled the forest.
Batarel rolled over onto his feet and came up in a pouncing position. Without a second’s hesitation, he jumped forward and caught the Anduar by the front of the throat.
From the other direction, Tamael continued to press forward, swiping with his powerful claws and ripping flesh as he pushed the next Anduar backward. But the third soldier swung around his right flank with a vandrekt in hand. Tamael didn’t have time to react or even regret his terrible oversight. With a single powerful thrust, the spear punched through his chest and stole the air from his lungs.
When the first Anduar fell before his powerful jaws, Batarel turned toward the remaining soldiers. One was holding a spear that extended from his two-handed grip through Tamael’s chest. The fierce, massive cat had already gone limp and was dropping to the ground.
From somewhere inside him, rage welled up and clouded every other thought. Bursting forward, Batarel collided with the legs of the unarmed soldier and knocked him to the ground, then jumped for the next one.
Seeing sudden movement from the corner of his vision, the Anduar released his grip on his now immovable spear and turned slightly, bringing his hands up in front of his face.
But Batarel wasn’t aiming for the soldier’s face. Instead, he tilted his head and opened his mouth as wide as his jaws would allow. Slipping underneath the Anduar’s arms, Batarel dug his teeth into the muscled abdomen, feeling a grinding sensation as he bit into the angel’s lower rib cage.
The soldier fell backward, just as the other one had done.
Operating by the instinct that came naturally to his animal form, Batarel used the momentary leverage to jerk his head from side to side. The powerfully muscled core of the ground soldier easily gave way to sharpene
d teeth, and the flesh was shredded in seconds.
Batarel released his grip when the soldier hit the ground. Then he spun around to face the final soldier who had now regained his footing and was holding a vandrekt.
The Anduar crouched low, holding the butt end of the spear against his right hip, with the bladed tip pointing menacingly at Batarel.
Without the benefit of surprise, Batarel was now at a disadvantage to the soldier’s sturdy position and weaponry. Moving carefully to the side, he watched the Anduar simply pivot to keep the bladed tip of the spear between them. The silence of the misty forest returned, and Batarel could now only hear his own harsh breathing and that of the enemy.
The Anduar pivoted on legs bloodied by Tamael’s claws.
Batarel stepped to the side, circling his enemy.
The soldier lunged forward and thrust his spear.
Batarel dodged to the side and attacked instantly. The soldier’s blade grazed his neck and shoulder as he leaped forward and moved quickly inside the soldier’s defense, biting down hard on his fleshy upper leg. When his feline paws came to the ground, he twisted with all his might in an attempt to throw the soldier off balance.
But the Anduar didn’t budge. Ground warfare being their specialty, their massive size and low center of gravity made the Anduarym nearly invincible in hand to hand combat. Instead, the soldier fought through the pain to retract his spear and shove it through the animal’s shoulder.
A yelp of surprise escaped Batarel’s throat as he released his jaws and snapped instinctively at the weapon, shearing the wooden shaft from its metal tip. The searing pain spreading through his shoulder was almost lost amidst the choking weight that now fell on him. Pinned to the ground, Batarel looked up to see the cold stare of a battle-hardened warrior. Both of the Anduar’s hands were firmly grasped around his throat. The soldier now had his full weight on top of Batarel, with his legs spread wide for balance.
Sensing the nearness of death, and the uselessness of his animal form, Batarel shaped into his angelic body and allowed his consciousness to drift toward the Eternal Realm. His vision began to darken as he reached out toward the face of his enemy. Whether in the physical realm or the small fragment of the Eternal that clung to it, he couldn’t be sure what part of creation he now saw. The face and arms of the Anduar began to swirl with colors, their shapes undulating as if underwater.
So many times, he’d stared into faces during the Shaping—both human and animal. But most had been unaware of his presence. This time, the face wore a different expression. This time, the form in front of him wasn’t being shaped; it was choking the life from him. As a feeling of euphoria came over his body, Batarel closed his eyes. In the absence of vision, a melody came into his mind. It was Myndlagid, a Song of Shaping. He smiled at the familiarity and comfort and began to sing in his imagination. His frantic, grasping hands slowed and his fingers began to pulsate with the melody. But the melody turned and took on a discordant sound, driven in a different direction by the anger that was swelling inside him. He thought of Tamael; his spirit being pulled into the Eternal and kept in the Place of Holding for the Final Judgment. He thought of Semjaza and his obedient soldier who now threatened to take everything away. He realized that the melody in his head came from the song in his heart. And the song in his heart now desired, more than anything, to destroy all that Semjaza had worked to establish.
Batarel opened his eyes and saw the straining face of the soldier, the knotted muscles now rippling along the Anduar’s forearms. He saw his own hands and arms extending upward into the air, no longer grasping at the face of the enemy, but waving along with the melody instead. Looking deep into the soldier’s form, seeing both his existence in this realm and the other, Batarel allowed the melody to grow and fragment into a complexity that only the Myndarym knew. He felt the discordant notes running counter to the melody and saw a unique beauty in them. Focusing all his attention, he realized that the melody was now sounding in reverse, a Song of Unshaping. Despite the realization that it was a tactic of the Nin-Myndarym, he sang in his mind and used his hands and fingers to direct and focus the notes.
All of a sudden, the chest of the Anduar exploded outward.
Batarel flinched, quickly closing his eyes as he felt something wet splatter against his face. The air came suddenly into his lungs again as the grip on his throat relaxed. Lying there in the stillness and silence Batarel breathed deeply of the moist, jungle air. He opened his eyes and saw leaves and branches overhead, obscured by the mist and fading light of dusk. When he sat forward, he found a ghastly scene.
The force of the explosion had thrown the body of the Anduar backward and to the ground. His ribcage was torn open and exposed. Blood and entrails were everywhere.
A sharp stab of pain in his shoulder quickly reminded Batarel of his whereabouts. Reaching around with his right hand he removed the long metal object from his shoulder and held it up in front of his face. The twelve-inch, double-bladed point was dark with his blood. Some of the shaft remained, shredded and broken on the end from the bite of his animal form. As he stared at the weapon in his hand he remembered the soldier that had passed by earlier, likely carrying the knowledge of Senvidar’s location back to Semjaza.
Batarel exhaled a deep breath and looked over to the limp animal form of Tamael lying nearby. His fingers involuntarily tightened around the weapon in his hand. “Farewell, my friend,” he said aloud.
Climbing slowly to his feet, Batarel turned south and looked into the trees in the direction of the Anduar he’d seen earlier in the day.
If Semjaza wants war, we’ll bring it to him.
* * * *
THE BORDERLANDS OF THE ETERNAL REALM
Sariel watched the brilliant colors of the terrain pass below him. The luminescence merged into a blinding whiteness that blurred his now dim vision. It was painfully obvious to him that he had changed since the last time he moved through the Eternal Realm. His body, which used to shine with the light of the Spirit, now appeared dull against the backdrop of territory controlled by the Amatru. But he shook off these feelings of regret which threatened to cripple him. If he’d learned one thing during his service as a soldier, it was to focus on the objective.
Instead, he chose to feel relieved that he had guessed right. It was critical for his success that he crossed over into the Eternal in just the right place. If he did so behind enemy lines, he’d instantly be captured or killed. And showing up in the wrong place within territory held by the Amatru might have produced the same result. What he needed was Amatru territory that was no longer occupied, to give him the best chance of reaching his objective with the least amount of resistance. And that was exactly what he found.
Despite the dull colors that now formed his eternal body, he still felt the same as he glided over the waving grass, moving east toward the battle line. Behind him, miles of flat, peaceful land spread out, covered in bright, green vegetation that swirled with traces of multi-colored light as the breeze moved through it. It brought a smile to his face. But only briefly, as he rounded a hill and descended into a valley of rolling knolls. In the distance, the dull reddish smear of horizon told him that he was approaching Marotru territory. Nearer and slightly to the north, a large tent structure covered a hilltop. The ranks of Anduarym and Iryllurym encamped at the base of the hill told Sariel that he had found what he sought. As he approached the temporary command post of Fer-Rada Danduel, he slowed his speed and landed gently. Folding his wings inward, he walked with arms out to either side, his hands open in a gesture of peace.
Already, the ranks of soldiers were stirring into formation.
Sariel’s heart beat loudly in his chest, coursing with the life-giving Spirit that sustained all holy things in this realm. But now, he could feel its hesitation. The flow of life was restricted by his altered body, which now seemed opposed to the Spirit.
When the Anduarym were assembled into a defensive line, three rows deep, the Iryllurym flew forward and
dropped to the grass in front of Sariel.
“HALT!” one soldier commanded.
“Sariel?” another Iryllur said, his eyes narrowing.
Sariel kept his hands spread outward. “I wish to speak with Fer-Rada Danduel.”
One of the seven aerial scouts immediately took to the air and headed back to the camp. The other six stayed behind. Their bodies were tense and their eyes squinted.
“How goes the battle?” he asked them.
“That is no longer any concern of yours,” their leader stated. “We heard that you crossed over into the Temporal.”
Sariel nodded slowly.
“It’s not every day we hear of such an honored soldier deserting.”
Sariel’s head dropped. As confident as he was about his decision, the words still cut through him like a blade. But he wasn’t about to discuss the matter with these soldiers. While he understood their feelings and knew their perspective was necessary, he also realized that their single-mindedness was part of the problem. He didn’t see himself as a deserter, but there would be no convincing these soldiers of that.
After an awkward silence, the seventh Iryllur returned, hovering above the fields. “The Rada will see you now.”
The remainder of the Iryllurym took to the air.
Sariel waited, as a matter of protocol, before following his escorts across the field.
The command post, though a temporary structure, was still more sophisticated than anything humans were capable of building. Its rigid skeleton of exquisitely crafted posts and beams spread over the hilltop, with numerous wings that met each other under a vaulted, central area. Its gleaming white walls and ceilings fluttered in the slight breeze, like a massive hand made of shimmering water.
The Iryllurym touched down just outside the central vaulted area, where they parted on either side of a doorway.
Sariel landed cautiously and walked between them. As he passed through the opening, he braced himself, expecting at any moment to be ambushed once inside. To his pleasant surprise, he entered without incident, though his position was flanked by a pair of Iryllurym in full battle armor. Large, quick eyes glared out of sleek helmets. Chests and arms were protected by plates of light, expertly crafted to conform to their thin, muscled bodies. With their arms crossed at the wrists, they displayed their vaepkir with pride. The long blades ran upward, along the outside edge of their forearms, ending at their shoulders.