by S. L. Duncan
His body seemed to twist, contorting into a comfortable position. Gabe felt something cradle his legs, and he quickly realized that he was sitting in something. The warmth of the light faded. The sound of voices filled the air, words he recognized. A horn honked somewhere, and a door chimed. He opened his eyes and saw the plush leather chair beneath him, pulled up to a familiar tall table.
Impossible, he thought.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
The aroma of fresh ground coffee beans. The sounds of milk steaming behind the bar and spoons clanked against the inside of mugs, stirring in sugar and cream.
Not memories but real.
Gabe sat at his favorite table at The Study Habit Café near New York University. Students and customers went about their everyday lives, drinking various beverages and reading magazines or studying for class.
Stacked neatly atop his table was a collection of college textbooks from courses he never had the opportunity to take—sociology, business law, and other literature. Beside them, a notebook and an uncapped pen waited to be used with lessons and outlines scribbled inside the pages in handwriting he recognized as his own.
Coren approached his table, smiling her unforgettable smile as she held her notepad and tray. “Have you finally figured out what you want? The usual today or something else?”
“Where am I? What’s going on?”
She put aside her tray and notepad and sat down at his table. At once, her jovial demeanor evaporated like the steam from the half-drank caramel macchiato beside his books. “Do you not know, Gabriel? You are where everything your heart desires can be found. A life of infinite normalcy. Of infinite possibilities. Education. Career. Here you may become a doctor or a lawyer. Anything you want to be in life. In this world is found the beginning of what you have lived all your life to attain.”
Gabe considered the scene around him, and for a moment he felt like he could reach out and grab his dreams.
“Love and happiness—a family in the future, perhaps. Possessions and money—all the things you have ever wanted in life. Is this not what you seek? Your usual? Do you not desire this most in your heart?” Coren asked.
These things were in his heart—that much was undeniable. The desires did exist, he realized, but not in a vacuum.
“I do want this,” he said. “But I want this in a reality that no longer exists.”
“Does it not? Do you not trust that the world will right itself again? That God will not correct that which is out of order? Look around you. Can you not see a future that is attainable?”
Gabe observed the café. Faces on some of the customers began to change. The space around a man in a business suit holding a briefcase shifted, blurred. His face became an older version of Gabe’s—grayed and distinguished. Another man, who wore hospital scrubs, sat at a table nearby and chatted with a woman. His face changed as well, also mirroring that of Gabe’s—smiling, happy, and older.
“No, this is not what I want.”
“Are you certain? Look again.”
The front door chimed, and a woman entered. Black hair flowed in her wake, trailing behind her unmistakable beauty. Micah, older now and somehow more refined in her dress suit, approached his business-suited doppelganger and kissed him to begin a conversation. They carried on touching each other, flirting and laughing at unheard jokes.
Gabe stared at the couple, the possibilities swirling in his mind.
“Yes,” Coren said, “you know what you want. Do not be afraid. You can have it. All of it. You simply must choose to accept, and it will be yours. I can give you everything you want. A life unencumbered by stress and conflict. A life of peace and serenity. Lust and love wrapped into one. Success of unimaginable proportion, free from the trials of failure. A long life, filled with happiness and satisfaction. All you need to do is ask, and everything will be as you desire.”
The temptation was strong, but he thought of Micah’s kiss in the tabernacle. The love he felt in the kiss was real. Gabe could still feel her lips on his. But this also felt real.
“Who are you?”
“I am simply a giver of gifts. A provider. You need only ask, and everything as you see it now and as you envision for yourself can be attained. Take control, and all the pain that is done will be undone.”
The door chimed again. Richard entered, healthy and alive, followed by Gabe’s father. They smiled and laughed as they ordered coffee from the barista. Carlyle soon followed. Micah rushed to embrace him.
Gabe’s heart tore apart at the sight of her smile.
“I can restore them,” Coren said. “All can be made right in your world. All the horrible futures you’ve seen, all the despair and war can be calmed. All the tragedies for those you love can be erased. Your world will be one of peace and order. Of light and hope, unhindered by the darkness and burdens you have seen. These broken pieces will be mended. Those you love most will be saved and live as they would had all the perils you have come to know been removed from it. No war. No suffering. And you will forget the hate you have come to witness in the world you know now. You and your loved ones will be burdened only with happiness. In your world the heavens and Earth will finally be at peace. But you must make the choice.”
Gabe looked around the room, weighing the offer. Thoughts raced through his mind. With one simple choice, he could bring peace to his world.
My world, he thought. Deep inside, he felt a disconnection between her offer and what he’d left behind. “My world is the world I know now. What you offer is a lie.” He motioned to the café. “This isn’t real.”
“It is not a lie,” she said. “It is as real as the chair in which you sit. As real as the books on this table, and it will be real for those you love. Their reality will merge with yours in your world.”
“No. I am an archangel. That’s real. And if that’s my reality, then so be it. I may want these things but not at the expense of my duties. Not at the expense of what I owe my world and not at the expense of the truth.”
“God will forgive you. That, I can promise.”
“Maybe, but I couldn’t forgive myself. I choose what has been destined for me, regardless of whether or not I want it. I choose to fulfill my duty.” Gabe stood from the table in defiance of Coren’s offer.
Her eyes narrowed, and the airy softness of her demeanor hardened. “Even at the sacrifice of yourself?”
“If that’s my destiny, then yes.”
“And if the ones you love are sacrificed because you choose not to save them now, would you deny them peace and happiness? You would give them up to a death of unmentionable horror should you fail your duties?”
“We won’t fail. But even if we do, we’ll die knowing that we did everything we could. My decision is made. You can stuff your world. All the things you offer would do nothing but ensure victory for our enemy,” Gabe said. “And if that is what you intend, then you are also my enemy. I’ll do whatever is in my power to stop your darkness from spreading to my world. Whatever it takes.”
Coren leaned back in her chair. “A human’s understanding of time and space is as predictable as it is simplistic. Yet you never cease to surprise me with the unbound measure of your heart. If only more were like you, my dearest Gabriel. Fortitudo Dei indeed. Truly, there is strength inside you.
“However, I am not your enemy,” Coren said, and a smile, warm like the summer, drifted across her lips. “Nor do I wish for darkness on the Earth. I wish for Light.”
The room slowed and then stopped. Coren stood, and her skin began to glow. Light brought forth in rays like the sun through clouds. It spilled out, growing brighter, its streams crashing into the walls and knocking them open to the city to reveal an endless white sky above. Tables and chairs, people and cars were struck by her rays and sent into the heavens.
Gabe put his arms up to protect himself, but the floor crumbled away to reveal a glowing white abyss. He plummeted into the void until he felt the embrace of warmth again.
“Go fo
rth, Gabriel,” said the echo of Coren’s voice. “And have faith that you are that which you are.”
Gabe twisted through the light as he fell, then landed on hard ground, knocking the wind out of his lungs. He opened his eyes and lifted his head to see the ladder in the tabernacle. He lay on his side in an awkward position with his right arm caught underneath.
“Gabe!” Micah’s voice reassured him. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” Gabe struggled to catch his breath. He looked around and no longer saw the mist covering the floor. He also no longer felt Micah’s emotions. Whatever psychic connection the ark had built between them had been broken.
“Here, let me help you up. Can you move?”
“I think so.”
Micah extended her hand and pulled him up with surprising strength. Then she gasped. “Look at your hand.”
He turned his palm out.
On his middle finger was a gold ring, its sheen faded from time. A curved stone set flush with the band and glistened in the light of the arch. In the jewel shined a small, engraved pentalpha.
“The Ring of Solomon,” Gabe said. “I am the heir.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
Septis walked under the streetlamps, making his way toward the distant gate at the end of the road. Humans lined the sidewalk, cowering in their hovels, looking desperate and in need of pity, though he had none to give. One of them approached, his arms held out begging, pleading for help. Disgusted with the creature’s presence, Septis grabbed it by the throat and snapped its spine.
The onlookers screamed, running into the night as the corpse fell to the ground, and Septis felt invigorated by the sound and knew the darkness would offer no reprieve from what hell he was about to reap upon this land.
Ahead, soldiers took notice and aimed their pathetic instruments at him, but he paid them little regard. Spotlights towering above the gate came to life, flooding the street below. Septis called to his power. Shadows fed off the night and grew strong, stealing away some of the light surrounding the buildings before flowing across the street to meet him. He reached out, and from the darkness surrounding the distant steps leading to the gates, shadows came alive and attacked the soldiers, like predators lying in wait, pouncing from the ground, their smokelike forms ripping the life from the bodies of the men.
An alarm rang out over the compound, and more humans stormed to the gates.
Septis welcomed the challenge.
They opened fire with their weapons, but the bullets did little but tear through his clothes. Septis laughed, toying with the humans, manipulating the shadows into a weapon of his own, an extension of his arms, their actions synchronized with the gestures of his hands. Through his bidding the formless creatures grabbed the men with their darkness and tossed them into the metal gates or high into the air, only to watch how they broke as they hit the ground.
Red eyes in the shadows glowed bright in anticipation, as if begging to be loosed from a chain. He waved a hand, and his pets flowed through the streets in all directions, like rivers of black water surprising the soldiers with their speed. Becoming more alive with every passing second, animal snouts and clawed legs appeared in the moving flood of darkness, without taking physical form. They roamed like dogs chasing down game, leaping from the ground to grab the fleeing humans.
Cries of death echoed throughout the street as the blood began to spill, and Septis smiled.
Though he enjoyed the sport, his determination remained on what drew him to this place. Fortitudo Dei’s presence burned here like a freshly lit candle, stronger now than he had ever felt. The boy’s powers were growing inside him, and the opportunity to quell his ability to influence control over this realm was slipping away. Septis knew that now was the time for his redemption. He would kill the boy here, along with all that stood in his way, and ready this world for the Hellgate to open for those that would claim rightful authority over Earth.
He thought of the glory that awaited. Mastema would be pleased by these accomplishments, and Septis knew he would reap a generous reward. But first, he must locate the boy. As the humans repositioned to fire upon his position, Septis animated the shadows once more. They pulled into his body, swirling around his tattered clothes, and funneled into the ground.
He closed his eyes, and the living world appeared to him, dark all around except for the church ahead. The beings swarming over the grounds appeared in his mind as weak embers, their meek glows just visible. Something ahead troubled Septis. There was a void of neither light nor dark beyond the gate, as if energy had been omitted from the world. Worse, he no longer saw Fortitudo Dei’s beacon shining.
Escaped. Again, he thought. A fury lit inside, shaking the ground where he stood. A building by the street buckled and fell. Humans screamed as the rubble trapped some. Before he started tearing apart the town with his rage, something drew his attention. A presence, like a beacon of light, just beyond the church in the distance.
Septis opened his eyes, and his anger turned to a renewed determination. “There you are, boy.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
The ladder objected to their hurried pace with every creaking rung climbed. Light grew in the shaft as Micah reached the top of the ladder just ahead of Gabe; however, something was different. The light above seemed muted, softer than it had been before their descent. It flickered in the room as if lit by a candle.
A crackle of noise echoed from above. Kalashnikovs. In the distance, he could hear sporadic gunfire mixed with screams of agony.
“Hurry,” Afarôt shouted down the round opening. “Do you have it?”
“Gabe does,” she said, and he helped lift her from the ladder.
Gabe followed. His body still hurt from the experience in the ark. Before he could protest, his father grabbed him under the arms and hoisted him to his feet. As he was pulled from the shaft, the pathway folded in on itself, and soon the altar reformed, shutting off the way below.
“Are you okay?” his dad asked. “You’ve been gone hours.”
“Hours? What’s happening?” Gabe asked, seeing the black of the windows.
“The enemy has found us,” Afarôt said. “We make our stand here. Come with me, Gabriel.”
“What about me?” Micah asked.
“You are not yet ready. Stay here. Without your full powers, only the ring will stop the enemy.”
Gabe followed Afarôt through the curtain and into the night, leaving Micah and his father behind. On the road below, beyond the gates of the compound, stood the last of the soldiers, running to the aid of their fallen comrades and fighting to their deaths. Most of the refugees had managed to escape, vanished into the hills, but bodies in the compound formed a sort of path leading to the street, some in a grotesque state, contorted beyond recognition.
Gabe felt like he was on autopilot, driven into a situation for which he had no control. Hands shook, his heart beating in triples. He and Afarôt moved past the trees and toward the main gate. Gabe hoped to find some measure of hope that his new friend might enlighten him on how to use the ring, but Afarôt remained silent, wringing his hands as they approached the chaos. One thought prevailed above all others: This is happening.
Without guidance from the Ethiopian, Gabe looked to the dull metal of the ring for a sign, anything that might give him a clue. Its jewel only looked lifeless against his finger.
The gunfire ahead began to diminish, reduced now to only a few sporadic bursts, a few flashes of light.
As they walked the short distance from the temple garden to the gate, Gabe watched the body of a soldier fly into the air, launched by an unseen force. It crashed against a building and fell to the ground in a lifeless heap, leaving a distant man standing alone in the street. He wore a black suit and overcoat, which had been torn open. Crimson lines swirled on his chest, and blue eyes fixed on the gate’s entrance.
Gabe looked at the remains of the army littering the ground, single-handedly dispatched by this man, and a crippling fear se
t into his mind.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
Septis anticipated the delicious moment of the kill. It hung in the air like the promise of a decadent dessert. The hunt is over, he thought.
Two stood at the gates and two more at the small temple beyond the entrance. Besides the boy, he could feel a powerful essence coming from one in particular. The presence had not been felt since the first war between the realms, but there was no real cause for concern.
Afarôt the Healer.
Even together, they would be unable to stand in the way. Gabriel had yet to find his true power, and the healer was a mere inconvenience. Septis felt encouraged, his timing perfect.
Much blood had been let. Pools of it gathered in the street, some flowing in the gutter. This pleased him.
A good place to end the light.
The man who haunted Gabe’s visions, as real as the building storm in the darkened sky, had just stepped out of his nightmares and now waited amongst a scene worse than any of his visions had imagined. The full measure of the carnage was visible in detail. Bloodied, deformed bodies lay in crimson pools on the steps and contorted in broken piles near buildings, blood spray splattered across the walls. Weapons, useless against the enemy, lay smoking on the ground, spent to no avail. Some of the refugees lay facedown in the streets, their backs torn open. Gabe’s stomach turned at the sight of the gore. So many innocents had already perished.
I could have prevented this, he thought and reconsidered his choice in the ark. He pushed the feeling aside, knowing that the rampage would have happened anyway.
The visions played in his mind’s eye. The burning city of New York. The death of his father. All shall come to pass. Here and now.