“Do you know who I am?” Eveline whispered back, her pupil’s dilating.
“You are Eveline, my best friend and wife.”
“I Am,” Eveline announced, pushing herself away from Theodore and raising her hands above her head, turning around on the spot slowly, the shadows bowing before her. “Eveline is no more.” Lagar came to her and whispered into her ear, handing her a dagger. Theodore let out a faint breath as the gentle folds of her lips curled into a smile. “Master,” she said fervently, taking the dagger into her right hand and raising it high above her, her black eyes lifting with the blade.
“Eveline you don’t answer to Lagar, you answer to no one,” Theodore proclaimed, his fingers reaching out for her pathetically.
“He is my master now,” Eveline said with an ice cool gaze. The mortuary went quiet but for the cries of Belle, which echoed within, sending a sharp pierce of pain into Theodore’s heart. Eveline brought the dagger down to her waist and began to circle about the three stones circles. “Who to choose,” she said with a steady and resolute voice, her chin high up in the air and her auburn hair falling loosely down her back. She stopped beside Belle, causing the child to muffle her cry as her once close companion, teased her with the point of the black blade. “Who means more to me…,” she laughed coldly.
“Please don’t hurt Belle,” Theodore begged, wishing for help as time now began to run out.
“Are you offering yourself to me first?” Eveline asked darkly. “How noble.” Theodore turned his gaze from Eveline and looked about the mortuary, his eyes settling upon a smug Lagmar who stood close to him with a smile so filled with hatred, it caused Theodore to feel nauseated. “It is your fault that I am…, renewed.”
“What do you mean?” Theodore replied his body becoming still as she came closer to him, dragging the tip of the blade across the stone, the noise forcing him to flinch.
“Filled with so much anger and contempt, you forgot to give me my medicine,” Eveline. “Not that I was in need of it, no. I was changing just fine. I suppose I should thank you for not injecting me with anti-venin, without it all of this wouldn’t be possible.” Theodore could find no words, his mistake so blatantly literal. “It made killing our mother so much easier wouldn’t you agree?”
“No…,” Theodore whispered with shock, shaking his head with disbelief. “No.”
“Yes,” Eveline muttered, now speaking to the shadows about her, in particular Lagar who smiled with pride. “Even in the face of death was she defiant and strong, which of course made the whole event a little bit more exciting. God the days I had to pretend to like her,” Eveline placed a hand over her stomach as thought sickened. “She actually had the gall to inject me herself.” The crowd of shadows fell into fits of laughter, Lagar taking it all in with excitement flashing in his red eye, Nagtium hissing loudly in response.
“Eveline please, no more,” Theodore begged with pleading eyes, his fingers curling into balls of grief, unable to listen to anymore.
“How she fell to her knees,” Eveline teased darkly. “She even had the good will to take the dagger from me and kill herself, leaving me free to bathe in her pathetic dying scene,” Eveline chuckled. Slowly she turned to Theodore, her face losing all traces of excitement. “Do you want to know her last words as she lay dying in a pool of her own blood, pathetic and emotional, trying to reach out to me?”
“No,” Theodore said faintly as Eveline bent herself down to his level, placing the length of the dagger across his chest.
“She said to me,” Eveline whispered slowly and maliciously. “I love you,” she began, tracing his face with an index finger. “I knew you would come back to me.”
“You can come back Eveline,” Theodore whispered, comforted by her icy touch. “You are more powerful than anyone in this room, hatred only lessens that power.”
“I am more powerful without you, without any of you..,” Eveline said with a brief flinch. “Abominable creatures of light. You serve the greatest contradiction and hypocrite the universe has ever known, for what? If He had his way, you would be killed all in the name of a prophecy.”
“No, He is not like that,” Theodore argued hotly. “He is not perfect but takes responsibility for his actions unlike those you now serve. You blame Him for all that is wrong with this world and the people within it, yet you do not blame free will, you do not lay blame at your own feet for exploiting the flaws of man, for using it to induce pain and hardship.”
“God is light, in him there is no darkness at all…,” Lagar exclaimed with a sharp intake of breathe.
“Heiden is not the God of Christianity, you know this yet you use the word of man to justify what you serve?” Theodore laughed darkly. “He is strong and powerful, He serves what is good and creates life.”
“Your God is fraud!” Lagar said loudly, pouncing forward, cupping Theodore’s head tightly with his hands, glaring down into his eyes. “Those who stand up to his forgery are exiled, that is not the act of a God who is just.”
“He rids Heaven of those who disobey the law,” Theodore retorted. “A system created by his forefathers, a system those of Heaven choose to follow. Those who wish to live elsewhere are given the free will to do so. He places no chains upon his people but acts in accordance with the law.”
“Your King wears the blood of religion upon his pristine white hands,” Lagar said darkly. “Does He stand before the great council of Heaven and adhere to the laws?”
“Man creates religion, man manipulates the image of God to suit himself,” Theodore said with defiance. “And man uses religion to justify the acts of terror and bloodshed.”
“Blood shed, how relevant,” Lagar chuckled. “Does your God know that you killed a fellow angel so that you could obtain the love of another? Does your God know that you broke your oath not to marry his offspring?” Theodore went still with silence as the words seeped into him. No, no one knew about Sethador, the gentle and kind. No knew that he had unintentionally killed the young angel by accident, yet revelled in his death as it paved the way forward towards winning the heart of Jophiel. “Thought not,” Lagar whispered. “I wonder what your God would make of you, warts and all? Would he spare you being the husband of his heir? I think not.” Theodore closed his eyes, aware of Eveline’s stare. “Your God has no power anymore and soon, very soon he will fall before his victor and beg for mercy.”
“Kings do not beg,” Theodore exclaimed, guilt covering him in shame.
“Your King will do more than beg,” Lagar said quietly. “He will scream for mercy before the end.”
“Enough!” Theodore shouted out loud causing the shadows to still.
“Nauseated by the sin that covers you? Sickened to know that I know all of your deepest and darkest secrets? Scared that your God will turn from you?” Lagar teased defiantly, tightening his grip on Theodore’s face, his jaw cracking with pain. “He is the creator of sin, the wielder of darkness…,” he bent his face down to Theodore’s and licked the angel’s lips, spitting out the taste. “He wears the cloak of injustice and inequality. Soon I will strip it from his back and place it over my own, then the universe will know what true pain and oppression is. I will destroy all that has been built, and scatter it to the winds. I will place my hand before the sun, bring forth the creatures of the earth and night and wreak havoc on all those who cry for the rays of the sun.” A loud pitched scream filled the mortuary. Lagar and Eveline turned to the child. “Silence her,” Lagar ordered Eveline. Eveline nodded silently and went to the child as Lagar turned round to Theodore once more. “Where is your God now? Will he come down from his mighty throne to save the life of one unimportant child?” Theodore felt a tear fall down his cheek. “We will see.” Lagar looked across to Eveline and nodded.
“Please Eveline,” Theodore pleaded. Eveline looked across at Theodore and raised her dagger. Belle squirmed under her and cried out.
“Evie! Evie!”
*
Galean found the hidden wrou
ght iron gates and found it locked with a heavy chain about its iron railings.
“Here,” Jophiel handed him a hair pin and walked away, checking their surroundings for any signs of movement.
“Thanks,” Galean muttered as he unchained the lock and opened the gate. Jophiel took his hand and bade him to stop.
“Are you sure about this Galean? Maybe I should go alone.”
“No, I won’t let you walk into a lion’s den without aid,” Galean said quietly as the heavy snow swirled about them. “Although it would nice of our fellow creatures to come to our aid.”
“If Lagmar gets his hands on you Galean, you won’t come out of their alive,” Jophiel said with desperate eyes. “This you know?”
“Love makes warriors of us all Jophiel,” Galean smiled, wrapping his arms about his friend. “And love can and does work miracles.”
“Never did I think you would ever say such a thing,” Jophiel whispered into his coat.
“The winds have shifted, so have I,” Galean murmured before letting go.
“I know.”
Galean brought an index finger to his mouth and beckoned Jophiel to follow him up the steep hill towards the Anglican mortuary. Both angels took out their weapons and readied themselves as they quietly and slowly wound their way through the graveyard, coming close to the mortuary. Galean stopped Jophiel and bent down to the snow covered ground, hiding behind a large tombstone.
“There must be about twenty shadows outside awaiting our arrival,” Galean said with a frustrated sigh.
“I can hear Belle Galean, we need to get in there soon,” Jophiel stressed, turning her eyes to the opening of the mortuary, her eyelids falling down tightly with agony as the child’s cry pierced the silent sky, much to the amusement of the shadows that lingered outside.
“Can you see him?” Galean asked Jophiel.
“Lagmar?”
“Yes.”
“No, he must be inside.”
“There must be another entrance into the mortuary,” Galean mused, turning round and taking a good look at the area.
“I suppose we can try,” Jophiel shrugged helplessly.
“We will need to make our way round, keeping a significant amount of distance between ourselves and the shadows, once they get any kind of inclination that we are here, well…,” Galean looked to her with knowing eyes.
“I know.”
Galean crawled away from the tomb and began to run towards a set of tall trees, Jophiel following closely behind him. The snow acted as camouflage and when they finally made it to the trees they fell behind them and drew in a ragged breathe.
“My lungs are burning,” Jophiel whispered, her breathe causing a flurry of mist to spring about her beautifully, winding its way upward into the trees.
“So are mine,” Galean admitted. “My men would be ashamed,” he smiled, trying to lighten the mood as another piercing cry could be heard.
“You’re just out of practice tis all,” Jophiel replied, leaning her body against the tree. “Look I can see another door, can you see it?”
“Yes,” Galean answered quickly. “It’s about two hundred metres away.”
“Do you think we can make it without being seen?”
“If I had time I would crawl,” Galean teased darkly. “But seeing as though we are in need of time, I’m not entirely sure we will not go unseen. Let’s hope not.”
“That’s optimistic, ”Jophiel said with one last lingering look before they left the shelter of the trees and made their way across the open terrain towards the back of the mortuary. Galean took hold of her hand and guided her through the snow covered graveyard. Quickly they came to the back of the chapel and moulded their backs to the wall. Jophiel smiled to Galean as they made their way towards the door. Galean motioned for her to stay still whist he entered. Gently he unlatched the door and looked in. A darkened room separated him from the mortuary, giving himself the space needed to prepare and plan. Quickly he darted out from the door and bid Jophiel to enter before shutting the door gently again and taking her hand. With a wave he lit a candle that stood upon a small table near to the door. He motioned for Jophiel to be quiet as he took off his hat and coat, taking out both of his knifes. Jophiel followed suite and when both were ready they made for the door.
“On the count of three,” Galean whispered to a clearly nervous Jophiel. “Get Eveline and Belle out, I’ll see to the rest.” Jophiel nodded diligently before Galean opened the door. Shadows turned from the centre of the room and began to shuffle in response to Galean and Jophiel as they stormed into the mortuary, wielding their weapons and slicing down those who stood in their way. Galean did not stop to think as he swerved his knives about and edged his way deeper into the mortuary, closing the distance between himself and Eveline. The room filled with the angry cries of the shadows that began to fall like flies. As Galean lunged at a shadow he saw Eveline, pierce her dagger into Belle’s chest, a loud cry shaking his body. Beside him he heard Jophiel cry out in shock, kicking a foe to the ground before slitting his throat. Galean found Lagar, standing away and watching on in glee and found a sudden energy ensnare him.
“Galean behind you!” Jophiel cried out as a hand found its way around Galean’s throat, throwing him to the ground.
“At long last,” a high pitched voice announced behind him as Galean tried to clamber to his feet. A foot kicked him hard in the gut, forcing him to the ground once more. Coughing wildly, Galean turned his gaze to Jophiel who was now being held captive by Belem. As Lagmar forced Galean’s head back a sudden blaze of white light filled the mortuary.
“Nee galdan se doth mada!” A beautiful voice rang out as the light began to fade slightly. Galean knew that voice, hearing it only once a number of years ago. Hiss’s rang out about him as the archangel Michael entered the mortuary. Using the distraction, Galean twisted Lagmar’s hand and threw him to the ground, picking himself up quickly. In the distance the laugh of Lagar could be heard as stood atop the middle stone table, Nagtium about his feet. Shadows began to disappear in fear of the arch angel, who was now joined by Gabriel and other angels. Lagar turned to Lagmar before disappearing and ordered aloud.
“Occidamus eum! (Kill him!).”
Lagmar drew himself to his feet and readied himself, drawing forth his sword of fire.
“Finally we meet!” he laughed as conflict broke out between the angels and shadows.
“Galean!” a loud voice erupted from the depths of the conflict. Galean searched the crowd and found the majestic eyes of Gabriel, his ancestor by blood, thousands of years older than himself. “Leave now!” he commanded with dark eyes as he plunged his sword of light into a shadow. Lagmar laughed as Galean shook his head. He needed to find Eveline. “I said leave now!” Gabriel re iterated as he made his way through the mass of fighting angels and shadows. Lagmar’s smile faded away as Gabriel came to Galean. Galean turned to Lagmar, whose eyes were filled with terror, he was no match for the older and stronger angel.
“I will find you!” he promised before swirling about into a cloud of dark mass, evaporating from view. Galean reached out but caught only the air in which stood in Lagmar’s place. A strong hand fell upon his shoulder.
“Did you not hear me? Go now! Before Michael gets his hands on you and brings you back with him!” Gabriel said with serious eyes.
“I won’t leave Eveline!” Galean cried aloud, seeing her in the distance, upon her knees as Michael brought forth the demon from within her, her cries mixed with that of the demon filling the room.
“She is safe now,” Gabriel said with a kindness in his stern eyes. “Go home, your father needs you.”
“She needs me!” Galean urged, stepping forward, her despair and pain causing him to shudder. A tough hand grabbed his arm.
“You will see her again, now go!” Gabriel commanded, this time with anger laced in his words. Galean felt himself still, he could not go against the great angel, he was no match for him and he knew that his ancestor spoke tr
uth. “You are no use to her dead.” Galean turned his gaze away from Eveline and looked into Gabriel’s fine face and blue eyes. “You will see her again,” Gabriel re iterated. “Now go!” Galean unwillingly turned from the angel and ran from the room.
*
Eveline felt herself come forth from the darkness within and looked up into the eyes of the majestic man that stood before her, garbed in golden armour. About her she saw swords of light meet swords of fire and cowered in fear.
“Take my hand,” Michael announced, holding out a hand to Eveline. Eveline, her body weak and her legs shaking, took the hand of the man, beautiful and beyond poetic words and found herself coming to her feet. As she stood before the angel she felt something cold pierce her back and cried out. Belem watched as she fell once more to the ground before the feet of Michael. Without a breath, Michael swung his sword into the air and took the head from Belem.
“Eveline!” Theodore cried out from the stone table. Eveline felt herself fall, face forward onto the hard ground, her eyes shutting again.
“Please let me die,” she whispered before falling prey to the darkness.
The shadows disappeared from the mortuary, leaving behind the angels. Gabriel came to Michael and quickly bent down and picked up Eveline.
“Get her to the Abbey,” Michael ordered swiftly. Gabriel nodded silently and with a sudden wisp of air, disappeared into thin air with Eveline, leaving behind the rest of the company. With blood on his hands, Michael came to Theodore and unchained him before attending to the child, who lay lifeless, blood pouring from her wound.
“Belle!” Jophiel cried out as she ran past Theodore and Michael, unchaining the child.
“She is gone Jophiel,” Michael exclaimed as Theodore joined him, his face bereft and stained with tears.
“Eveline…, is she dead?” Theodore asked the arch angel who stood a foot taller than he. Michael turned to Theodore and looked down at him with serious eyes.
“She will live,” he said coarsely. Theodore let his head fall into his hands as he cried out with relief. Michael looked at the angel with anger, his pride had been the cause of the night’s events and it had not gone unnoticed by Heiden and himself. Turning he found Jophiel upon the table, hovering over the dead child. “Jophiel,” he said calmly, watching as the angel, tears falling from her pale face place a hand over the child’s heart.
One Crown & Two Thrones: The Prophecy Page 38