Tail of the Dragon

by Timothy Reihm

  Chapter 45

  Gadreel was surprised at how easily they beat back the defenders. By the time they reached the open celebration plain, their adversaries were in full-scale retreat, scurrying towards the imagined safety of the central mountain. He expected stiff resistance once they met the main body of arella trapped on the plain, but panic caused most to turn and run.

  He took a moment to reorganize his lines after clearing the wooded hills, but before long the group stood ready for the final push. He contemplated waiting for a signal for a unified advance, but decided he should continue to press the initiative, to allow less time for the fleeing to retreat.

  ‘Gadreel, you are to be congratulated for a brilliant attack,’ the familiar voice of Helel called out. He surveyed the orderly lines of Gadreel’s group, a pleased smile on his face. ‘Did I not tell you that we would secure victory today?’

  ‘Yes, you did, Helel.’ Gadreel avoided looking into his eyes, keenly aware of the deep pain of Ariel’s death at his hand. Still, Helel had been right. It was apparent the Kings would not interfere.

  ‘One more push and the day is ours. More than ever we can show no mercy, Gadreel. I want them pursued to the edge of the mountain and then we will rain down destruction upon them. They will find little protection on the rocky slope and I expect they will surrender in a short time.’

  ‘What is our plan once they have surrendered?’

  ‘Once we have subdued those who have stood in our way, we will offer them the chance to join us. Those swearing loyalty to me will be spared. All others will be dealt with. We need to have a unified force in order to show the Kings we were right, and must be allowed self-governance. They can't deny us if the entire population stands unified, behind me. They will either be forced to cede control, or will have to destroy us all. They won’t be able to do that. It is against their nature.’

  Even as he asked the question, Gadreel knew what the response would be. But how could Helel be so callous in talking about the death of so many of their fellow arella, including many he cared for? But they had already gone too far. What good would it do to stand up to Helel now with victory within reach? He grieved for the likely loss of more friends. They would never surrender or swear loyalty to Helel. He hardened his heart, resolving to finish what they had started.

  ‘Before the end of the day, Gadreel, I want envoys sent to the other worlds to demand they pledge their allegiance to their new government. Refusals will not be tolerated.’

  Helel called for an angel, standing a few cubits away, who held a trumpet nearly as long as he was tall.

  ‘Sound the call for an advance.’

  The arella faithfully obeyed, trumpeting a blast which echoed across celebration plain. At once the massive group began to advance towards the mountain in the distance.

  ‘We fly to victory!’ Helel shouted in departure.

  ‘To victory,’ Gadreel replied softly.

  As the throng headed, en masse, toward the mountain, the rumble of marching feet thundered upon the packed ground. The air hung thick with smoke and excitement. As he flew towards the final line of defenders at the base of Mount Kol, the scene played out impressively below. Their army was a swarm completely covering the field of battle seeming unstoppable. The rainbow of auras blurred across the open plain like a giant prism, scouring the earth in its approach. He spotted an elevated outcropping and headed toward it to better survey the advance.

  The lines of defenders huddled behind their choir shields at the base of the mountain. He imagined how terrified the spectacle before them must appear. Were any of his former housemates in those lines along the slopes? He found a bit of solace in the thought that they would likely never learn that their friend Ariel had died that day at Helel's hand. His guilt was sufficient, and didn’t need to be compounded by the condemnation of his closest friends.

  An explosion overhead caused him to glance up. An angel plummeted towards him, one wing dangling helplessly as the body spun out of control. Instinctively, he compressed a thick slab of air and caught the arella, lowering him slowly to the rocky plain. The figure rolled over, in obvious pain, and looked up into his eyes. Raphael.

  He stood frozen for a long second, not sure what to do. His old friend appeared so battered he doubted if he posed a threat. Even if he were unhurt, Raphael, the diligent bookworm, would be no match for him. He understood what Helel would expect him to do, but he froze. Those sad eyes held him immobile. In them he read hurt, and sadness, and accusation. They threatened to crush him under their penetrating gaze. He must stop them. He lifted his trembling hands.

  An explosion of heat and pain suddenly consumed Gadreel and he spun around, and then fell. With a sharp jolt, he hit the ground beside his old friend, arm engulfed in a searing pain that threatened to drag him into darkness. He turned his head and located Raphael, just out of reach. Their eyes met again, but this time he saw only compassion and regret.

  He opened his mouth to speak to his old friend, but a piercing note came and cut out all else. It was a single, penetrating horror which seemed to drill an icy dagger into each side of his head. He tried to move his hands to cover his ears, but his one arm hung useless. He attempted fruitlessly to use his good hand to block the awful sound as it assaulted his senses in a seemingly interminable onslaught. His breastplate loosened and dissolved. His shield disappeared in a puff of smoke. His sword rusted away to nothing in an instant. The clasp holding his cloak, set with the stone of Aralim melted. Every piece of armor, acquired throughout his academy tenure, was gone.

  And then the note was gone too, dancing away on the wind. A glorious silence swept in behind to replace it, momentarily. It was a welcome reprieve, but it was so haunting, seeming to portend the end of all things. Not a single sound came from the millions of gathered arella. All waited expectantly.

  Then the voice came, like a billion voices raised together. It was familiar and completely foreign. In it was the power of creation and destruction, final and knowing.

  ‘It is finished!’

  He understood, instantly, it was so. Then came the terrible light. He clenched his eyes shut, but it pierced through his eyelids. He buried his head into the ground and rolled over, but even the earth beneath him radiated its awful brilliance. There was no escape from it. He moaned in abject horror.

  His entire being was consumed in light that made each cell of his body ache with deep anguish. But the misery was more than just physical. It seemed to magnify the guilt inside of him until he thought surely it would explode out of him and tear him to pieces.

  Around him were the cries of others, so many others. And then the voice came again. The same voice, but different. It was a single voice containing the voices of all. It was the voice of Adonai, and it came from within.

  ‘Gadreel, you had the seal of perfection, full of beauty and wisdom. The emerald was your covering and you were blameless in your ways from the day you were created. Limitless in power you nurtured your envy to desire more and have become filled with violence and deceit. You have corrupted your judgment by reason of your splendor so I will cast you from the mountain of the Kings, to the ground where you will be a spectacle to the inhabitants of all the worlds. They will look upon you and lament because of how you profaned your sanctuaries. And when your works are fully manifest, when your corruption is complete, I will bring forth fire from the midst of you and you will be no more.’

  The words pierced him as if they were a physical sword plunged fatally into his chest. The comfort and confidence he enjoyed his entire life, hemorrhaged out onto the ground around his prone body. Suddenly, he was terrified of that voice, of that light. He had to flee from this place before they incinerated him. He struggled to move, blindly crawling on his belly in the dirt. Around him others cringed and cowered, all trying to escape that presence.

  A hand grasped his useless arm and pulled him up, and his shattered limb was again whole. He pulled against the anchor of that helping hand and his arm obeyed h
im. Although blinded, he felt Raphael's presence, supporting him. And he knew that all those around him, on both sides, had been healed of their injuries. But the pain of that voice and that light lingered, weighing him with the oppression of his choices.

  ‘I am sorry, my old friend. I have to go now,’ the pained voice of Raphael said softly in his ear. He tried to cling to his old housemate desperately, but the other retreated from him.

  A trumpet blast greeted his still ringing ears and a loud cry echoed across the field. He recognized the voice of Hasdiel, the celestial scribe.

  ‘You have disgraced the lofty position you were freely given and there is no longer a place found for you here. You will march out of the city of the Kings and will be banished forever. You have forfeited all of your rights as citizens of the Kingdom, all of the possessions of your birthright. From this day forth, your new home will be a desolate rock far removed from the glories you have known.’

  ‘And yet, in their wisdom, the Kings will allow you to plead your case to the universe. As spectators to this tragedy, it is my hope that your pleas fall on deaf ears, but it is the will of they who are greater than I that your true nature becomes clearly evident to all.’

  ‘Now, by the power granted me by the Kings, I command you to depart from this place or be destroyed where you stand!’

  Gadreel wanted nothing more than to comply with this order. The light still burned him, from the outside as well as from within, and he desperately wished to escape its wrath. Though unable to see clearly, he placed one foot in front of the other in the only direction seeming to offer a reprieve from the burning. As he marched, the whimpers and cries of his fellow rebels lamented their choices, as they contemplated their condemnation.

  He began to regain some of his vision as he increased the distance between himself and the mountain of the Kings. Around him marched his comrades. They appeared broken and lost. He studied the angel trudging dolefully beside him. He did not know his name. He had no aura. No, that was not true, but his aura lacked all color, looking like some dim, gray shadow hanging about him like a cloud. Then he looked around and noticed everyone, save their Seraphim escorts, wore the same dull colorless aura. He couldn't bear to look at the angels who had followed him; those he had failed.

  They passed the academy, the place that was home such a short time ago. He wished to go back in time and relive those glorious years. He longed for the peace, the friendships and the joy he had spurned in a vain attempt at more power and freedom. They passed the forests to the south where he had spent so much time exploring with Ariel. He passed the immense lake where he had sat with Helel, dreaming of great glory, oblivious to the true danger of such heresy.

  And then then they walked through the gates of pearl and gold, majestically guarding the southern approaches to the city. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he passed under their shadow for the last time. Never again would he step foot within these walls. Never again would he see Ariel or Fang or his Kings. He had taken for granted the gifts he had been given, thrown them away as if they were worthless.

  As the last of the fallen passed through, the gates of the Eternal City shut, with a deafening crash that echoed through the grove. As the sound faded away, their Seraphim escort announced, ‘You have disgraced the title of angel and are no longer fit to be called by that name. You have fallen from grace, are cast out, and will henceforth be known as demons. Now depart from here forever!’

  He was lifted by a tremendous force, propelled up into the air. Suddenly the warmth of the city and its glow changed to a frigid cold and darkness, and he landed roughly on hard rock. He had been evicted from the only home he ever knew, thrown to the rocky surface of some vagrant world far away. The enormity of the event overwhelmed him and he made no attempt to rise from the dirt. He simply lay there on his face and wept.