Archangel’s Ascension

by Pablo Andrés Wunderlich Padilla

  “The king will start handing out land and titles,” the Perfect Pontiff announced, “and will decorate those who showed their courage during the battle for Háztatlon, in which our king showed his valor.”

  The king sat down, and three esquires dressed in green came forward with several rolls of parchment. Mérdmerén took the first one and read it aloud.

  “I wish to thank the valiant Wild Men for their decisive intervention in the battle, for the second time in the history of Mandrake. We welcome you to our lands with the same rights as our citizens. Ranok, Zagak, Orloga, Tzarga, Merlak, Chagaskak, Leolín, come to receive your gold medals.”

  The leaders of the different clans came up to the dais one by one, almost naked to show their powerful golden muscles. They accepted their prizes with equanimity, since recognition and gold, as far as they were concerned, were trivial matters.

  The king took the second roll and went on handing out prizes and titles.

  Manchego stood on tiptoe to look. He saw Luchy beside Lulita, yawning. Even when she was bored, Luchy was spectacular. He longed to hold her and be with her, but he had no choice but to wait. Still, he was young, and patience was not one of his virtues.

  “I’ll be back,” he told Balthazar.

  “Where are you going?”

  Manchego answered with a broad smile. Mowriz was about to follow, but Balthazar stopped him with a silent command.

  “I have plans for you, Mowriz. Tomorrow, at first light, we’ll travel to Devnóngaron.”

  Mowriz remained still, whispering: Sun, little sun. Sun, little sun.

  ***

  Manchego was flying placidly over Háztatlon, with the sunset before him. The sky was clear, and the amber twilight colored horizon and landscape. From the ground, anyone would have said that the speck above was a lost heron, seeking the sea.

  When the sun began to disappear below the horizon, Manchego prepared himself for something he had always wanted to do since he was a little boy: chase after the sunset.

  I love it, Teitú said. This world we live in is the best one there is.

  I know, my dear Naevas Aedán, I’m happy we came back. Shall we chase after it? The sun?

  That sounds fantastic.

  Alac continued gliding at the perfect distance, which would allow him to watch the sunset for hours. A smile had spread across his features, his eyes had filled with tears. It was hard to bear such immeasurable happiness.

  Epilogue

  The caravan rattled along a secondary road which led southwards. They would be passing by the imposing Devonic Range of Simrar, breathtaking in its size and beauty. One of the five carriages was a young woman who looked like a princess. Her green eyes gazed into the distance among the wild rocks, the green carpet sprinkled with an array of colored dots, but they saw nothing of the landscape; instead, they saw a lad both shy and likable with whom she had shared many sunrises. Beside her, a golden-skinned old woman half-closed her eyes, understanding this absorption which radiated so much love.

  The land of San San-Tera was shriveled up. The ashes had settled on the hungry ground. The rains had washed away many sorrows, scavengers had eaten the corpses.

  The caravan broke up, and each carriage went on its way. Their occupants had returned to give this land a chance, a future. One of those carriages set off toward the old Farmers’ Avenue. In it were Luchy, Lulita, Tomasa, and Rufus. The road seemed to be ready for the arrival of the three travelers and the old dog. The old village was a ruin. Past the ruin, they went on as far as their old home. The three women were aghast to find that the old ranch had been burnt to the ground. But there was still hope, as a new house was being built. It was clear to Lulita that whoever was building the home had no idea what he was doing since the frame of the house was strange and poorly built. But the fact that someone had tried to rebuild was a very good omen.

  When she got down from the carriage, Luchy set off toward the observatory and the Great Pine. The tree had suffered some burns, but it was still alive in full strength. Its branches were full of life, swaying in a light breeze. There, leaning against the side of the tree, she found the boy of her dreams.

  Manchego had wept as he helped rebuild his house. Having his love sitting by his side at the observatory was a relief. She kissed him on the lips, embraced him, and stroked his feathers. Teitú flew around them both, giving out a shy rosy light.

  Rufus sniffed around and marked his territory. When his senses told him his master was close, he ran to the observatory.

  Lulita and Tomasa watched, smiling. They looked into each other’s eyes and wordlessly told one another that it would be hard to start anew but that the effort would be worth it.

  “We’ll help rebuild—all over again,” said Lulita.

  “You’ll need to hire more workers,” said Tomasa. “Need more hands to do the job. I’m getting old and tired.”

  ***

  He felt uncomfortable in the elegant silk clothes of the palace with their complicated folds as if he had not yet adapted to the new styles. Lombardo had left behind his past as a farmer and had not wanted to return to the South. Ever since he had been forced to leave his house, he had always thought of going back. Still, the battles and difficulties had turned him into another person. Now he found the bustle of the city of Háztatlon attractive. He would never forget where he had come from or his past, but he hoped now to own an estate, start a family, and get involved in politics.

  He had learned to value Mérdmerén and appreciate him. This was the reason why he was in the Imperial Palace, enjoying a drink of rose water. The maids came and went. They were very pretty and dressed neatly, showing close-fitting necklines. During the weeks of celebration that followed the coronation, the young man had had several amorous encounters, none of them serious. At twenty-one, Lombardo knew he was old enough to start a family, and so did the girls. They were dazzled by his well-muscled body and the elegant clothes he wore. But finding the right wife was going to be difficult. He liked Luchy, as he always had, but she was out of reach, so he could only respect her and keep looking for the right woman for him.

  He was pondering these matters when Princess Ajedrea approached him. Her curly black hair came down to her hips. Her red lips contrasted with her dark eyes.

  “My father says he’s ready to see you.” She spoke warmly and respectfully, and her graceful movements were like a dancer’s.

  Lombardo felt a tingling in his crotch, and his heart was galloping in his chest. Would he have the nerve to invite the princess to come for a walk later? He had seen the princess during the coronation and had felt she was too much for him. Or was she?

  He forced himself to concentrate on the meeting with Mérdmerén. He was going to propose a business deal to him, and he could not afford to fail. He went in to the king’s office, a room of white marble with a high dome. The king was sitting in his carved chair from Vásufeld. He was dressed in black, as usual, and wore his dagger across his chest.

  “Lulita spoke very well of you,” Mérdmerén began. “And so did Innominatus. I’ve been told you want to offer me a business deal.”

  Lombardo cleared his throat, which was dry. As recognition for his work in the war, the king had granted him some land where he was planning to plant coffee, as he had when he was a farmer, but this time for export. His hands were sweaty, partly because Ajedrea’s image kept coming into his mind. So besides getting a business deal, he would have to ask the king for permission to go out with his daughter. A simple man of business asking permission to court the princess? he thought. But he was absolutely sure Ajedrea was right for him.

  Mérdmerén waited, his face calm. Lombardo smiled. He was ready to take the first step on the way towards his future.

  ***

  The Stingray was sailing on a choppy sea. The air raised waves of salty, crystalline water that drenched a happy and fulfilled Ságamas. On the three-masted ship, its white sails swollen, the old man was in charge of a crew of recruits.

 
“Come on, you bitch, come to Papa and I’ll ride you like a mare!” Captain Ságamas shouted. At last, he was home and was going to enjoy the sea till the end of his days.

  They were sailing toward the distant, impoverished, but wonder-filled lands of Moragald’Burg.

  “Following wind, Captain!” cried the seaman in charge of the sails.

  “Rudder to starboard!” the captain ordered.

  The Stingray turned right and tackled a wave headlong. Ságamas laughed; it was as though he were mad. The crew was wary, but they followed their superior’s orders. The rumor was that he had been a comrade of the king’s and that together, they had defeated demons and left dozens of women pregnant.

  “Come on, then, you sons of the bloody mermaids!” he yelled in the face of a sea whose powerful waves roared back at him.

  ***

  That evening, Alac was flying high in the sky, enjoying the darkness as a counterweight that the light needed to reach a balance. He wondered where the God of Chaos might be, what he might be doing to recover. They were currently enjoying a period of peace, but it was only temporary.

  He needed to consult the mirror of the Black Queen of the Morelia Abyss if he was to find out how to stop Mórgomiel. Maybe he would need the help of other gods, whom he would have to seek out in distant corners of the universe.

  For the moment, he would carry on flying amid that serene night with its thick sprinkling of stars, accompanied by Teitú.

  ***

  “These are the caverns named Kanumorsus,” said the voice. “Which you can now see thanks to my eyes, our eyes, your eyes. Now we are one.”

  Although he was still in his human body, Argbralius knew that his soul and his essence had changed and that they would end up taking over his whole being to turn him into anti-matter.

  The God of Chaos passed through Kanumorsus as if it were his home. “Stupid humans. They live in a world they don’t realize belongs to us, a world we created with the sole purpose of using it as a portal to other worlds and universes.”

  I was a human. Am I stupid? thought Argbralius. Was human? Am human? What am I? thought the young man. He kept those thoughts to himself.

  In the dark caverns of Kanumorsus, the God of Chaos was invisible to the forces of good that would not hesitate to put an end to him, taking advantage of the fact that he was still incomplete.

  A ghostly figure appeared before him. It was a whirling shadow with red eyes and sharp teeth. Little by little, it took on a body, and from the shadow emerged claws and a sword of liquid fire. The demon knelt before the god.

  “My lord of the shadows, you have returned. Éogoth, at your service. I have kept the portals safe during all this time until the God of Light came and defeated Dálamoth. This place is no longer safe.”

  “Keep protecting my world of portals, Éogoth. When I have sufficient power, I shall return to resuscitate your brother Dálamoth, unfairly murdered by the God of Light. One day, we shall make him pay, but it is still too soon for that.”

  “What do you need, my lord?”

  “To find my armor and Górgometh, my dragon.”

  “So be it, my lord.”

  Mórgomiel smiled and made his way to the tunnel which would lead him to Mortis Depthos, the world of anti-matter that he had left to conquer the universe. He would bring Górgometh back, he would once again fly across space and time, and he would reunite the scattered pieces of his armor.

  The End

  THE GALACTIC CRUSADE

  It’s the year 2095. The third world war rages on. The confederate states of the Megachine advance to impose their relentless totalitarian regimen on the world. If nobody stops them, our freedom will end. The allied powers have fled, the remainders of which have joined forces to create ÆTAS to confront the Megachine threat.

  About the author

  I am a Guatemalan author in the genre of fantasy and sci-fi. When not creating some strange fantasy or sci-fi world, I am an Internal Medicine Doctor by profession. I like coffee, meditation, cross-training—and reading, of course!

  As far as I am concerned, there is no greater pleasure than knowing you, the person who has taken the time to read one of my works. Please send me an email at authorpaulwunderlich@gmail.com Tell me what you think of my stories. It will be a pleasure to know you!

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