Eternity

by Nealis, James

  Tens of thousands of angels crowd the halls. These aren’t just warriors; the Prince opened up the celebration to non-military as well. I spot Celles and Tinus sitting with a group of what must be Forgers. I rise to go greet them, but Sal grabs my tunic from behind.

  “The Prince is about to enter,” he says. “You will want to be seated for this.”

  I resent his forwardness but I cover my discontent with a feigned smile. “Where is Gabe?”

  “He won’t be able to make it tonight.”

  I shake my head and scrunch my face. “What on earth could be more important than the Prince’s celebration of his captains?”

  “Who knows and who cares,” Sal says. “He was so combative at the captains’ meeting. I’m starting to worry that some of the old Frosted is showing his ugly face.”

  “He made a blasted scene out of it too,” Raphael says. “I don’t know why he has to make such a production over everything.”

  Just then, a Ceremonial comes out with a large plate of meat and vegetables and lays it out on the table in front of us on large silver platters.

  The sight catches me off guard. Why in the world is there meat on those platters. Since when did angels become predators?

  “Where’s the manna?” I say inspecting the plate.

  “Who cares?” Raphael says reaching into the pile of food with his hands. The greases of the meat glisten on his unscarred and perfect fat fingers. “I am perfectly content to eat juicy meat over heavenly manna any day.”

  Those juices drip down from his mouth and onto his white robe.

  “What is the Prince’s news?” I ask.

  The room erupts with cheers and clapping. Scores of angels stand to their feet in a wave that raises from back to front of the great hall.

  “Looks like you are about to hear it from the Prince himself,” Sal says.

  The Prince makes small talk with Apophos as they walk down the center aisle toward our table. He taps his scepter on the ground while angels reach out their hands to touch his arms as he passes through the throng. I don’t recall him ever carrying a scepter with him before, but there he is lifting it upward and accepting the praise and worship of the angels in the hall.

  Sal gestures for me to stand and I comply. I clap in solidarity with the other angels in the hall, though I can’t help but find something about this exhibition to be a little bit off-putting. It doesn’t feel right. It’s all so flashy and again where is Gabriel?

  “Why is Apophos walking with him?” I ask Sal.

  “Oh I thought you heard, he’s our newly appointed captain.”

  “That idiot is our what?” I ask. “I thought acquiring a stone was the only path to captain?”

  “The Prince can go back on his word,” Sal says. “He calls the shots.”

  “But why?” I say.

  “We needed a replacement for Gabriel,” he says. “Can’t have an empty seat at the head table. A waste of an opportunity to share the glory of the Prince with another well deserving angel, right?”

  I rise to greet Apophos but he ignores me.

  The Prince greets Raphael who practically falls to the ground as he tries to lift himself to his feet. Raph’s incompetence reflects in the Prince’s eyes as he lets out a minor chuckle. He then greets Sal who practically drools while greeting him.

  “We are so excited to hear you make the pronouncement,” Sal says. “You deserve this more than any other created being in the universe. You are the most beautiful of all creation.”

  “Let’s just keep it short,” the Prince says. “I am the most beautiful of all.”

  Sal looks down after the light rebuke. “Of course, forgive me.”

  The Prince turns his back toward Sal and brings me in close for a hug. “I am so proud of you, Michael.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “It has been a long journey. But I am so pleased to see that the war has finally come to an end. Let’s pray the Origin permits us to never see such dark days ever again.”

  “The Origin,” the Prince says. “We no longer mention that name fondly in this Temple.”

  The Prince makes his way over toward the podium leaving me feeling a sense of confusion. Did the Prince of the Earth just indicate an animosity toward the Origin of the universe? I look to Gabriel for assurance only to remember that Apophos is looking back at me. What strange time warp is this?

  The Prince lifts his palms into the air. The applause dies down.

  “What is a Rogue?” the Prince asks.

  His words play out with their normal musical tone, which draws me in. I feel pleasure and excitement. But then I catch hold of myself. Something doesn’t feel right. I fight not to be drawn in and I struggle to guard myself.

  “A Rogue is anyone who rejects order, my kingship. As the most beautiful of all beings, I took control of this planet. I reject this idea that Earth was gifted to me. That implies that at some point, I did not have control. The fact is, this planet was mine from its birth.”

  “You see every facet of my being brings order. To deny me control is to deny the planet the order necessary for life to continue on. For this planet must fall under the dominion of a custodian. I am that custodian.”

  I scan the audience of soldiers and various castes. There are several raised eyebrows scattered throughout. Though, when my eyes land upon Sal, I see nothing but wide glossy eyes and an appreciative grin. His admiration seems to grow with every word.

  “This planet is just one sphere floating amidst the heavens themselves,” the Prince continues. “And as long as there are those who do not submit to my authority, there will be Rogues who wish to supplant our order. It is for this reason that I regret to inform you that while you have achieved great exploits, this war has not concluded.”

  My fingers tighten as I close them into my palm. My legs forcefully kick against the legs of my own chair.

  “We are the only army in all of the universe,” he says. “We are the first and only victors of any battle, of any war. So now, the endeavor that lays before us, to conquer all of creation itself, is no stretch for an army as sophisticated as our own. The task before us may be long and arduous, but it will not be without reward. For all who follow me will receive rewards and riches like you have never known.”

  Clank.

  Raphael drops his fork onto his plate, startling us all with the metallic echo.

  My Prince declares war against my God.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The Rebellion

  “WHAT ON EARTH WAS THAT?” I ask. “This war is over. There is no point in drawing us into some protracted conflict against angels who have no idea we are even targeting them.”

  “He is the Prince,” Sal says. “He knows what he is doing. He is the most perfect of all beings.”

  “Of all created beings,” I say. “He is waging war with the Origin. Setting aside the fact that our entire war with the Rogues was fought absent of any direct leadership on his part, the mere fact that this is the created versus the Origin should say all we need to know. He does not know what he is doing.”

  “It’s not your place to question his reasoning.”

  “Reasoning? There is no logic behind any of this. How long do you anticipate this battle raging? An eternal war until he has killed every last one of us?”

  “You always oversimplify,” Sal says. “The Prince isn’t just some part of creation. He is the Morning Star. The Acceptor of Worship and the Son of the Morning.”

  “Yes but you know what he isn’t?” I say. “He isn’t the Origin. But he clearly thinks that he is.”

  “You are taking this tirade too far,” Sal says. “Just because you no longer feel a thirst for vengeance doesn’t mean that the battle has less consequence. We have to protect order or this world will falter at its very foundations.”

  Raphael waddles into view.

  “I would have expected this of him.” I motion over to Raphael. “But not you. You know better.”

  “Your opinion of me is a
lways flattering,” Raphael says. “But to your surprise, I will tell you I am not thrilled about this protracted war either. It sounds like quite a bit of work if you ask me.”

  “You too?” Sal says. “Where is the loyalty? Am I to lose all my captains?”

  “We aren’t going to fight the king of heaven, Sal. You will have to give that report to the Prince because we- “I pause, remembering something. “All your captains?”

  Sal turns to walk away. I grab him from behind and pull him back around.

  “Don’t you dare touch a captain of the Prince’s army.”

  “What did you mean ‘lose all your captains?’ Where is Gabriel?”

  “That’s not your concern,” Sal says.

  I draw my sword.

  “Look at you,” he says. “I see our friendship means nothing now that you have some meaningless idea in your head.”

  “Where is he?”

  “How can you be trusted to know about the state of the Prince’s prisoners when you aren’t even a loyal citizen in his kingdom?”

  “Prisoner?” I say. “You sent off a captain of his army to the dungeons. Whatever happened to ‘a captain for all eternity?’”

  “He’s a captain in the dungeons. And I did nothing of the sort. It was the King himself who decreed his judgment; I merely carried out orders. I am not one to second guess the perfect one.”

  “Since when did he become a king? And you know what? There are none perfect but the Origin.”

  “Terra would be so ashamed of you,” Sal says.

  “Don’t you ever say her name again.” I turn my back to Sal and walk out the door of the Temple toward the Courtyard.

  I play back the conversation in my mind as I walk.

  This world is spinning way too quickly. This is no mere friends’ quarrel. Rather, this is bigger than anything we have ever faced. How could Sal just stand there and encourage this madness? How could the Prince possibly think that he can take on the Origin himself?

  I must speak out against this mutiny toward heaven before it’s too late. Surely if the Prince heard reason, he would change his mind. I can dissuade him from doing this, but I need to gain my bearings first.

  A huge congregation of angels stands out in the fields, talking and mumbling. Some of the angels are shouting while others are laughing. It feels remarkably incongruous, as if there were ponds spread throughout a desert.

  Everything feels upended.

  “This is not what we signed up for,” Celles says walking toward me.

  Tinus shakes his head “There’s no bloody way the Prince would do this if he didn’t believe he was being wise.”

  “He thinks it’s wise,” I say.

  “See?” Tinus says.

  “That doesn’t mean he’s right,” Celles says.

  “So what would you have us do? Would you bloody rebel against the Prince?”

  It’s clear that I have walked into the middle of an argument between the two parallels. Their allegiances are not set and they both wage a battle of ideas trying to sway the other to their sides. I imagine this is happening throughout the realm. I don’t want to get involved, but then again, I too feel like a bundle of confusion.

  “Michael agrees with me,” Tinus says. “No Rogue deserves mercy. If the Prince wants to declare war on the maker of the Rogues, we should follow.”

  “That’s not true,” I say.

  Tinus scrunches his eyes. “So you won’t follow?”

  “I don’t believe the Prince has really thought about this,” I say. “He has no right to battle the Origin, but at the same time, I am not convinced he really will. He just needs to think this through before he makes a big mistake.”

  “But what if he was created for the very purpose of supplanting the Origin?” Tinus says. “We know that he was created perfect, his every word a song. How could a masterfully created being make an imperfect choice?”

  “Free will,” Celles says. “Don’t you get it, free will is a necessary part of perfection, yet at the same time, it is the biggest vulnerability. It’s like a door to rot and corruption. The Prince has chosen to open that door. Now all his perfection will give way to decay.”

  “I’m not willing to give up so easily,” Tinus says. “I won’t rebel against my Prince.”

  “I will not betray the Origin,” Celles says.

  “Then we separate?” Tinus asks. “Is that really what you want?”

  I interrupt them. “Just let me speak to him. Stay calm. No need to go and make rash decisions over this.”

  I push through the crowds, they don’t even notice me they are so involved in their own heated discussions. Meanwhile, my arms press against feathers and push away angels as I try to make my way back to the Temple home where I once again make my dwelling.

  I feel a nudge against my heel. Looking down, I see him.

  My breed steps in front of me and rubs along the front of my legs.

  “What are you doing here?” I say. “I sent you back into the forest.”

  He steps backward and falls back onto his bottom lifting his hind legs onto me softly. For a moment, I can’t help but smile and pet his head.

  “I’m actually glad you’re back.” I stoop down low and look him in the eye. “I think I could use a friend right now. Stay here and I will come back for you.”

  My breed stretches out his legs among the frantic angels all around us and lays his chin down on his front paws as if content to take a nap.

  Finally, I find a clearing in the crowds, just large enough for me to spread my wings. I take a brief trot and leap, catching a gust of wind just in time to lift me farther into the air. I lift up against the moonlit sky.

  My mind rushes as I soar. I feel like this task is too big for me. Swinging a sword I can do, but making arguments before princes just isn’t my strength.

  I land on the terrace of my home and walk through the already opened doors. The curtains blow in the breeze as the wind rushes through the open entranceway and out the lifted windows. I shut the door behind me and plop down in the chair and stare out the windows up at the stars. My mind races as I try to figure out what on Earth has just taken place.

  “Origin,” I pray. “Help me to understand exactly what is going on right now. What am I witnessing?”

  Knock. Knock.

  I was not expecting a visitor, so this interruption leaves me feeling off kilter. I needed this time to think and decide my next move.

  I walk to the door and open it.

  “I hope you’re happy now,” Christine’s eyes look redder than the strawberries I used to admire in the garden.

  “Don’t blame me,” I say. “I’m trying to figure out what’s going on, just like everyone else is.”

  “What’s to figure out? We have to evacuate now. We are all in danger. The Prince has gone mad. If he believes he can take on the Origin, then who are you or I to stand in his way? We have to leave now.”

  “No,” I say. “Give me some time to think. There is still hope. I just need to speak with him once. I need a moment to process everything. So if you don’t mind, just go.”

  She turns to walk back away but then stops.

  “How can you not get this, Michael? We were pawns.”

  I try to speak but she raises her hand.

  “From the very beginning, he was using us. The Rogues didn’t matter. He just needed a reason to train up his armies so that he could extend his power. There never was a war. This was and always will be about taking heaven.”

  “Nonsense,” I say. “Those fiends killed my parallel.”

  “And this demon killed mine,” she shouts.

  I remember Uriel calling for me to unbind the ties around his wrist. I was so caught up in wanting revenge that I didn’t think about his safety. Is it possible that I grew so focused on vengeance that I didn’t see who the Prince truly was?

  “We were too blind to see it,” she says. “We did this.”

  I turn my back to her and walk back toward the
window.

  I was blind.

  I remember what it was like when I first chose to join the army. I wasn’t thinking about wars or the Origin. Rather, instead I could only see one thing, my need to slice open ‘the Rogue with the crisscrossed scar’.

  “And when I killed him, it was empty,” I accidentally say out loud as I think.

  Christine shakes. “That’s because the people you got vengeance on weren’t the real enemy.”

  “No, it’s because revenge is pointless. It doesn’t bring back the one you love. Sometimes I wish I could go back and keep myself from ever signing up for this war.”

  “I wish that too,” Christine says. “If I had never joined this battle, Uriel would still be alive. And what makes this worse is I realize the only person who should pay for his death is the one he served.”

  “He was faithful to the Origin,” I say. “And he was fighting for you.”

  She grabs me and cries onto my shoulder. I hold her for a moment as I feel the tears soak my neck.

  Is she right?

  “Help me get my revenge now,” she says. “We helped you avenge Terra. Help me avenge Uriel. Help me kill the Prince.”

  “No,” I push her away. “That is absolute nonsense. We can’t battle the Prince.”

  “Why not? For all we know, he may not even know how to fight. Surely you can take on Sal and the Frosted can take Raph.”

  “His name is Gabriel,” I say. “Raph’s on our side.”

  “That’s the biggest shock of this whole thing. Look, I know it sounds dangerous but we are in a treacherous time. We didn’t ask for this war, the Prince did and I refuse to be on the wrong side of it. Make your choice.”

  She slams the door behind her.

  I look around the apartment for a moment. Finally I can take in the silence which feels like calm water just before a wave rolls over its surface.

  I am not going to sit back down. No, things are getting out of control. If Christine is talking about assassinating the Prince, then there must be many other angels thinking the same thing. I owe it to the Prince himself to speak the truth, if for no other reason than to protect him.

  I will not allow anything to be left to chance. He must listen. There is no way for a created being to defeat the Origin of the universe and if by chance there is, well then, Heaven help us all because then, all hell will break loose.