Gemini’s arrival was both mysterious and mystical, like the arrival of a god. The people believed he was a god, with godly enchanting blue eyes, light hair, and glowing pristine skin.
In the battlefield on the mainland, in front of the island city, the multitudes of Nebuchadnezzar’s warriors rhythmically chanted each syllable of this god’s name, “Mes-lam-ta-ea!” They believed he was one of the gods of the two gods sent to earth from their heavenly constellation Mastabbagalgal, The Great Twins.
This moment in Gemini’s history had been etched on an imperial granite wall of black and bronze, and thousands of years later Gul and Khel discovered it. It was the very battle scene that Dr. Skramstad had described to Agents Etelson and Stevens.
The sun was setting into the Mediterranean Sea. With the western sky turning orange and yellow, the heat of the day still lingered in the sweat and smell of warriors’ skin.
A half-moon began to rise over the battlefield and would soon be directly above them. One half was enclosed in complete darkness, and the other half reflected the clear and brilliant light of the setting sun.
Atop his white steed, Gemini brandished no sword or steel and carried no weapons. He was clad in brown leather and black iron. Molded black iron wrapped over his forearms, and thin plates of it were formed into the leather that fortified his shoulders and chest. His long very light, golden hair shimmered and danced with the flowing wind.
Behind him, thousands upon thousands of Nebuchadnezzar’s warriors formed a great, wide semi-circle barrier. At regular intervals within their perimeter, the warriors stacked enormous piles of trees and shrubs that they cleared from the battlefield. They set the piles afire, and the flames started to wax into massive blazes. Behind the arching mass of men, the great king Nebuchadnezzar was protected.
Underneath Gemini, a dusty, wide, and long clearing created a path from him to the shoreline. Far out from the shore was the walled city of Tyre.
Gemini’s eyes seared through the dusk-colored air and focused on a figure just before the water’s edge. There stood his opponent.
Through their thoughts they spoke to each other, in their own language. Gemini asked quietly, “My brother, are you certain you wish to do this?”
Sitting atop his black horse was Gemini’s brother. The man’s long dark hair waved and tussled in the wind. He was similarly clad in leather and metal. But this metal was the polished bronze formed by the intense purifying heat of a master refiner’s fire. Behind him, in ships within the Mediterranean, thousands of warriors of Tyre awaited his command. Thousands more crowded atop the walls surrounding the city.
The warriors of Tyre emphatically raised their swords and spears and rhythmically called out the name of Gemini’s brother. It was the name of the other god of The Great Twins: Lugalgirra. They chanted, “Lu-gal-girra! Lu-gal-girra! Lu-gal-girra!”
Gemini’s brother answered with a question, “My brother, will your king withdraw his siege?”
Gemini responded with silence.
Again, his brother’s thoughts spoke, “The prophet of the Jews laments to me that your king has destroyed their city and land. He has marched their people through the desert, starved them to where mothers eat their own children, and those who survived he has enslaved to build splendor in his city. He will do the same with these people of Tyre.”
Gemini remained silent. But his white steed, anxious to begin their battle, neighed and wagged its head. Gently, Gemini patted the side of the beast’s neck, requesting patience from it.
His brother asked once more and now more sternly, “Brother, will you speak to your king to withdraw his siege?”
Gemini finally broke his silence, “Why do you feel for these lowly, scavenging, wretched creatures? Our ways are not their ways. Our glory is unfathomable to them. We are makers of kings and emperors. We give them vast lands, and we take it away. We give them power and later destroy them with it. We are purveyors of their fate. We are the authors and makers of their history. We are poets writing out their lives in both prose and meter.”
After speaking, Gemini fell silent, pleased with his own words.
His white stead reared back on its hind legs, anticipating its master’s command to action.
Gemini raised his right hand in a fist.
His warriors cheered in their own anticipation.
A shiny, silver spear materialized within the fist.
The warriors roared in frenzy over their god.
Then, Gemini concluded, “And this is just one more verse I am writing.”
With that, Gemini swung back the spear, and then flung it forward, launching it into the air directly at his brother.
Gemini’s steed reared back once again in excited approval.
As the spear glided, its silver reflected the radiant glow of the heaping bonfires along the edge of the battlefield, whose flames had reached their blazing peak.
The roar of Nebuchadnezzar’s warriors escalated even louder, as they screamed the name of the god fighting for them, “Meslamta-ea!”
A far distance to the east, riders on horseback sped to the battlefield, with their black desert robes waving freely behind them. The rapid strides of their horses’ hooves flung thick clouds of dust into the air, marking the path of their hasty approach. Among them was the gentle flowing form of one royal rider. She was accompanied by her royal entourage, who were surrounded by royal guards. This one rider raced to make one last, desperate plea to her father, the great king Nebuchadnezzar, to stop the battle between the brothers.
On the battlefield, Gemini caused the flying, rising spear to split and replicate into six spears. As they glided in the formation of a circle, they rapidly closed in on their target.
When the spears reached their zenith, Gemini’s brother extended an opened left hand into the air.
Seeing their god begin to take action, the fighters of Tyre lifted their voices and cheered for their dark haired champion.
Then, Gemini’s brother set the spears ablaze, and they appeared like six descending comets, with their red tails afire against the black sky. Just before the six reached him, they exploded with amazing fire and dispersed into red glowing wafting cinders.
The people of Tyre roared in their own frenzy, at the miraculous and wondrous sight.
Then, with a shout, Gemini commanded his white steed to action. As the beast began with a powerful confident gallop, Gemini called out to his brother, not with his thoughts, but with a loud resounding voice, “With power over the heavenly realm, over kings, warriors, and beasts! These, my brother, are the wondrous and awe-inspiring intrigues we devise and play! Our epic games!”
With the sound of hooves pounding faster and faster against the dry, dusty earth, Gemini’s steed dashed across the cleared battlefield. The beast’s head rhythmically extended and retracted, as its nostrils opened agape to quickly breathe in warm air, and then spew out billowing hot vapors.
At the opposite end of the battlefield, with a growling command, so too did Gemini’s brother call his horse into righteous combat.
The earth rumbled with the rapid rhythmic thudding of the two approaching horses.
Warriors banged and rattled their shields with their swords and beat their spears into the ground. With excitement and anticipation, their shouting voices rose up into the heavens.
The sun was set, but the onslaught of the coming night was held back by the gigantic fiery aura of the semi-circle bonfires of the battlefield.
Directly above, the half-moon reached its zenith. Across the brightness of its shining half, the small figure of a black crow flew. Across the shadow of its blackened half, the hissing cloud of the dark entity glided. Lower and lower the dark entity descended, seeking to be closer to the battlefield, and desiring to witness the prowess of its golden-haired champion.
The thundering beating hooves of the two fast-approaching horses heralded the coming profound clash.
Atop their beasts, the two magnificent and mysterious beings swiftly s
trode towards each other. They rode on a fixed, single, narrow line whose midpoint, much like centuries before, would soon see the brilliant collision of one powerful, God-ordained, God-created Nephilim brother against the other.
* * * * * * *
Thousands of years after the battle at Tyre was a certain event with a brutal man, an SS Major.
After storming into Colonel Friedrich von Tiechler’s estate, the SS Major’s men quickly apprehended the Colonel. Using thick wires, they tied him down onto a solid wooden chair, at the center of the house’s foyer, and bound his hand over the chair’s armrests.
Hanging above the bloodied Colonel was an ornate, brightly lit chandelier. At the side of the foyer, von Tiechler’s wife, his little son, and little daughter cowered together in fear.
Seeking where and when the assassin will execute his plans, the Major’s torturing of the assassin’s friend, Colonel von Tiechler, went unabated.
Without warning or hesitation, the Major quickly raised his blade in the air, and then swung it down into the Colonel’s hand. The shiny silver metal sliced through the bones of the hand and lodged into the wooden chair. The Major then twisted and wriggled the blade, letting it chisel away at the bones and flesh.
Von Tiechler howled and cried in utter agony.
Escaping his mother’s arms, von Tiechler’s ten-year-old son ran forward. Halting as he reached the Major, he courageously yelled in unadulterated anger, “Stop!” His furious, piercing eyes looked up at the object of his disdain.
Frightened for her child, his mother screamed, “Friedrich, no!”
Without turning around, the Major glanced down from the corner of his eye. As he retracted the blade from the Colonel’s bleeding hand, a rare, amused smile appeared on his face. “Ah,” he said, as he finally turned, “This boy, Colonel, you named him after yourself?” The Major cleaned the blade. “What joy he must give the two of you.”
Finally, words came from von Tiechler’s mouth, commanding firmly, “Leave him alone!”
The Major slowly bent down and kneeled on one knee in front of the boy. With the blade in his right hand, he grasped the boy’s upper arm with his left. The Major’s ears were then dead to the Colonel’s voice.
As the chandelier’s light gleamed from above, it shined upon the tips of the Major’s cropped blond hair. The form and handsome angles of his face were revealed. The pristine skin on his face almost glistened, as the chandelier’s light reflected against it.
He was Gemini.
In a soft matter-of-fact tone, and directing his words to no one in particular, Gemini explained, “Now this next form of interrogative leverage, I most certainly do not command from my men. Not because I receive so much pleasure from it. No. But because if it does not permanently separate their eternal souls from their minds and bodies - leaving them devoid of morality - then at the very least, it will certainly leave damaging, long-lasting scars of painful guilt and regret on their conscience.”
Von Tiechler growled, “Don’t!”
Looking directly into young Friedrich’s anger-enflamed eyes, Gemini asked quietly, “Little boy, do you play with sharp and shiny objects?” Slowly, he raised the blade against the boy’s tender cheek. He continued in a cruel whisper, “Because I like to. I like the way they can cleanly cut into flesh with such precision that one can call the gauging of an eye, the dislodging of a tooth, or pruning of a fingertip an artful masterpiece.”
The boy’s mother cried out, “Leave him!” She lunged forward to reach for her son, but the two soldiers at her side seized her.
Without glancing at her, Gemini responded, “Oh, dear mother, your cries go unheeded. But look at your boy, your little fiery Friedrich, so courageous is this young man.” As his grip on the boy’s arm tightened, he pressed the tip of the blade further against the boy’s cheek, and it began to pierce the skin. A droplet of blood started to form.
Little Friedrich von Tiechler felt the sting but did not flinch.
Gemini continued, “My boy, did you know that your name means peaceful ruler?” He waited for an answer.
The little boy defiantly stared back in silence.
So, Gemini again continued, “But now as I gaze into your angry eyes…such malevolence in them…I do not believe that you will be able to live up to the grand potential of your name.”
Suddenly, Gemini yanked the boy aside in order to speak to his men. Young Friedrich was pulled away with such force that he fell to the ground and was dragged over the floor.
Gemini’s hand kept its grip on the tiny arm. “My valiant soldiers of the Schutzstaffel,” he raised his voice, “I believe I have asked this brave young boy two questions. And he is yet to answer one of them. He is as stubborn as his father, is he not? Well, now, let me cajole an answer from his tiny little mouth.” He dragged the boy back to himself and pulled him up onto his feet. Gemini glared into the boy’s eyes. He raised the blade once more to his face, but this time he inserted the sharp metal directly into the boy’s mouth.
Gemini rattled the blade quickly up and down, between ten-year-old Friedrich’s teeth. In a slow whisper, he stated, “I await your answer.”
Up at the high ceiling, hidden behind the glare of the bright chandelier, the dark entity hovered. Hissing in silent approval, it oversaw Gemini to ensure he performed zealously on behalf of its disciple, Germany’s Fuhrer.
The boy’s head began to quiver; fear started to overcome him. He felt the tears begin to flow from his eyes. But he fought them back, not wanting the evil one in front of him to see his pain. “No!” he courageously shouted through the blade.
Gemini quickly retracted the blade from the boy’s mouth and jerked him to the side once again, to address his men. Extending his arm out to them, he asked with a sudden laugh, ””No”, he says! Well, is this an answer to one or both of my questions? Or is he still showing me defiance?”
Suddenly, Gemini’s face turned into cold steel. His head snapped to the side, and his eyes locked onto the boy eyes. Quickly, he raised the blade. With the grip of his other hand, he jerked the boy’s body back in. Without hesitation, his swung the blade and sliced it through the air. The silver seemed to sing a high-pitched wale, as it split the air on its way to the little boy’s face.
The boy’s mother gasped in horror. His father painfully closed his eyes.
The speeding tip of the blade nicked the edge of the boy’s ear. Then, it sank into the soft tissue at the skin of his cheek. As the metal accelerated through, it etched a clean and distinct path into the jawbone underneath. The blade tore completely through the cheek and rapidly clicked over the small teeth hiding within. Finally, the sharp blade exited, at the edge of the boy’s mouth.
Fresh, warm blood sprayed across the room, and a red drop landed on the sleeve of Gemini’s uniform.
Little Friedrich shrieked in pain. He grasped the side of his face and began to tearfully cry.
The boy’s mother declared her judgment upon Gemini in a quivering scream, “You evil soulless monster!”
Immediately, Gemini swung the boy around so that his father could see his face.
Leaning forward from his seat, von Tiechler desperately encouraged his son, “Friedrich, I am here. Do not be afraid!”
His little son whimpered through the tears and through the blood, “Papa!”
With blood dripping down his own cheek, Colonel von Tiechler consoled his boy, “I am here, dear son! Look at me. I know it’s painful - it is all right to cry. But have courage! God will give us vengeance.” He gulped his breath and held back his tears.
Drawing the boy tightly in, Gemini spoke into his ear. His voice was calm, but his words were rapid and fiendish, “Every time you look into the mirror, you will see my face. Every time the little children laugh at your horrible scar, you will curse me. Every time a young maiden shrieks at your approach, because of that dreadful, open wound, my face will burn forever in your mind. You will hate me even in your dying moments.”
Gemini shoved the b
oy away, back to his mother.
Frantically, she tore the hem of her dress and pressed the strip of cloth over her son’s cheek. Holding him tightly, she tried to comfort him.
Still on one knee, Gemini gently cleaned the blade once more. He spoke patiently and moderately at the Colonel’s wife, “Dear woman, I am neither a monster nor a man. I am a creature fearfully and wonderfully made by the very utterance of the word of God. But you are correct.” He quickly glanced up at her. “I did cast away my soul a very…long…time…ago.” He then turned to one of the soldiers at his side. Waving his hand casually, he commanded, “Bring the little girl.”
The girl’s parents cried out, “Not her! Leave my daughter!”
The soldier ripped the girl’s body from her clinging mother, and dragged her to the hand of his Major.
Gemini took hold of the eight-year-old girl and asked kindly, “Sweet little girl, what is your name?”
She was already crying uncontrollably.
Gemini paused, not to wait for an answer, but to hear her cry. He relished the shrieking sound of fear resounding throughout the house. Finally, he said, “It matters not.” He raised his voice a measured amount, just to be heard above the cries of the tiny girl. “Do you see your handsome brother?” he asked her. “This day he has lost that quality, that handsome quality. The little boys and little girls will laugh at him endlessly. He will never have any friends. He will live in the shadows if he does not end his own life.”
Gemini raised the blade close, so that the girl’s eyes could see it through her streaming tears. Casually, he said, “But for you…it is different for little girls. An ugly face is a much more brutal thing to give an otherwise sweet girl. You see, I can cut you across your forehead, just above your eyebrows. But with a pretty, little, colorful hat you may be able to hide it. Or I can cut you across your nose and cheek. Oh, that would be such a challenge to conceal. Would it not? How many young women with such a disfigured face marry young handsome men? How many young women with such a disfigured face dare to walk the light of day? You will never have a suitor and you will never marry. You will waste away in pathetic loneliness…”
RB 01 Through Flesh & Bone Page 58