by Donovan Neal
Jerahmeel shouted, “Let all who bear the mark of Lucifer Draco be brought low! Now, go to and let us see this end!”
As one man, each used the various modes that were available to him - to run, fly, gallop, or teleport into the city of Jerusalem, fists and weapons raised: a legion of legions with but one purpose: to bring to naught every shred of rebellion that kept them from their home.
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Sariel watched from afar, as Talus grappled with Abaddon for control of his sword. He studied him, for Abaddon had adjusted his attacks to combat Gabriel’s speed and tried to anticipate where Gabriel’s next attack would come from. Abaddon surrounded himself with his shield of locusts; they encased his form as an exoskeleton and gave him strength. Sariel watched as the sword of Abaddon sliced through angel after angel. Watched as Abaddon’s foes fell maimed, and crippled before him screaming in pain. Abaddon controlled the swarm as a thing alive. Using the insects like a living whip, he extended the swarm by his will and wrapped Talus and Gabriel in a tendril of stingers until each became immobilized in pain.
Sariel noted their folly: for they did not attack him as one man; instead, each sought to take him down solely. None took the time to note that Abaddon adjusted in time to their strength and speed
He considered that Abaddon was a mover of stars, thus one of the strongest of Elohim. Abaddon was not a mere angel; he was the Destroyer, for he was Charon-like in his ability to withstand blow after blow dealt to him. He could be slowed, even redirected, but he could not be stopped, not man-to-man. Sariel admired his strength. There was something hidden, regal about Abaddon. Sariel had never noted it before, but seeing Abaddon in combat, Sariel knew that El had originally more in store for this angel, but whatever purpose was his genesis, it now was lost, for now, he had to be stopped.
So Sariel studied him, and watched as gryphon riders fell upon him only to be cut down and slaughtered. Abaddon himself took up a rider’s trident, and with a sword in one hand and trident in the other, he dismounted a rider and mounted his gryphon and launched himself into the sky. He jousted with riders, who sought to fell him, and he speared them through to a man; all that tried to face him in battle were cut to the ground in blood.
Sariel noted that whenever Abaddon extended himself, his broken stones glowed brighter. The swarm moved around him, and he grew stronger as they attached themselves to the very gryphon he rode. He animated the creature with an unholy power, making it even stronger as Abaddon’s own power coursed through the gryphon’s veins. Sariel watched the havoc around him. Those with the mark of Lucifer fought with those who had none, and all fought to stop Abaddon.
The stench of blood permeated the air. It ran as rain into the drains of the golden streets and splattered like graffiti on the walls of now burning and broken towers and buildings. The air was full of the sound of moans, screams, the clanking sound of steel, the thuds of bodies slammed to the ground, and the swift breeze of foes that bobbed, weaved, and sliced through the warm air. The sounds of anger and bitterness filled the air as brother fought brother. The hatred towards El and Lucifer’s hubris were as the smell of charred rubble, a palpable odor that choked the lungs.
In the epicenter of all the chaos was the rogue angel Abaddon, defiant, standing against attack after attack. Sariel stepped back to dodge a foe thrown across his path, slipped on blood and fell backward. Suddenly, an angel hovered over him and Sariel beheld the mark of Lucifer burned into his attacker’s stone. The angel had a sword to smite Sariel but recognized him for who he was and paused.
They looked into each other’s eyes. Sariel stood to his feet, and the glory of God still shown on him. Sariel saw his hesitation. For deep within the breast of his brother was shame. The angel lowered his eyes to the ground and bowed his head. He hobbled as he backed away from his prince, and dropped his sword to the ground.
There will be many hearts singed with regret this day. Sariel thought.
The angel turned to fly away; the reality of what he was about to do, weighing heavy upon him. However, the moment that he arose to leave the field of battle; a spear pierced his back. His great wings curled as if broken, blood spewed from his wound, and his entrails hung from the spears tip. Standing behind him was a member of Sariel’s own house. Gripping tightly the spear he had moments ago lunged into his brother’s back. He pulled it from the angel’s backbone and the wounded angel fell as a bird to the ground. Without mercy or compassion, he raised his spear a second time and shoved it into the stomach of Lucifer’s henchman. The light dimmed from the fallen angel, and movement stopped.
Sariel became enraged and leaped to the aid of the angel who even now dead gurgled blood from his mouth. The Prince with deftness of hand disarmed his younger sibling, and with tears and anger in his heart swung the tip of the spear across his brother's face and sliced open his jaw. His house brother fell back, his eyes wide opened and confused, for he had been struck by one who did not have Lucifer’s mark.
“If I have done thee wrong, then bear witness to my misdeed, but if not, why smitest thou me?”
Sariel replied, “Is it not enough that a foe would lay down his arms to flee? He who would live by the sword shall die by the sword!”
Sariel then raised the spear over his knee, snapped it in two, and threw the pieces to the ground. He looked away into the sky; he knew that to destroy the Destroyer, there would need to be a sacrifice. He could not stop him––this he knew. However, he could bring Heaven to pause, to ponder his doings, that to defeat this foe required the laying down of one’s life. Sariel then took to the skies and flew to Abaddon to do battle.
Fear and peace fought with one another in his mind, only to be scolded by the resolution to be silent,
Thy will be done, my Lord.
Like a streak of lightning, he flew into the army of locusts, and they immediately stung him. His body became inflamed, and he generated fire from his own body. The creatures seared themselves as they touched him and fell as dross. He smashed into Abaddon, knocking him from his gryphon, and they wrestled as they streaked through the smoke filled air.
Each grappled and contorted to gain an advantage, pulling, twisting, and struggling to gain submission.
Abaddon pummeled the jaw of Sariel, and they fell as comets from the sky. Sariel held fast to Abaddon and did not let him go. He reached with his fiery hand into Abaddon’s chest and ripped the second broken stone, tearing the angel’s ligaments. Abaddon cried out in agony.
Immediately, the locust swarms lifted from their prey, releasing whomever they held and came en masse to aid their master. A black cloud of biting teeth and stingers descended to envelop and swallow Sariel and their master in an embrace of venom-laced stings.
Sariel crushed the beating stone in his hands. The swarm reached their master in smoke and fire, set upon Sariel, and injected him with their venom. But Sariel had done what he had set out to do. He released Abaddon and allowed the swarm to have him. The two angels plummeted towards the ground. Abaddon’s chest seeped spark and smoke, and he dripped fire as blood, for his innards was open for all to see. He was molten on the inside, and dark ash poured from his mouth.
Abaddon gripped at his chest as he fell and opened his mouth to swallow the swarm. They swirled within him, and as a thing alive, arms and hands reached for Sariel as they fell to the earth. Abaddon wrapped his hands around Sariel's neck, and like a boa constrictor tightened his lock on the prince as they smashed headlong into the ground. The explosion knocked back those that stood near. Buildings collapsed, and rocks and debris flew across the city. Smoke sprinted and blanketed all in dust and ash.
In the smolder a figure stood, seen through the cloud to drag another. The form lifted the motionless angel and tossed him from the bellows. The visage of Sariel could be seen, and he was broken, his spine extended from his back, and from his lifeless body; locusts poured from his mouth, nose and ears, for he was stung from the inside, and his body was as a pustule waiting to burst. Abaddon s
houted as a deranged man, spread his great wings, placed his foot over the face of the dead Sariel, and screamed to all in defiance.
When Talus and Gabriel saw their brother dead: they went mad with rage and launched an attack upon Abaddon in unison. In a choreography of death, swords swung, parried, thrusted, and dodged.
Each pressed their attack
Talus matched Abaddon’s strength, for he was Abaddon's prince. He backhanded the rogue angel and sent him reeling into the ground. Gabriel was swift to take advantage of his brother’s attack, and before Abaddon could respond, Gabriel’s staff had smashed itself into his face. Abaddon screamed and sought to flee, but Gabriel was everywhere and kept him off balance. When Abaddon predicted where Gabriel would be next, Talus caught up to them and again punched Abaddon with such force his chest cavity caved, and his bones splintered. Abaddon doubled over in pain, stumbled back wheezing, and opened his mouth and chest plate to unleash the swarm to attack them.
Talus lifted up his hand to protect himself and be overwhelmed when Gabriel suddenly appeared before him and spun his staff and wings so that the swarm could not touch them. Still they moved towards him, undeterred, stopping for nothing but the cessation of Abaddon’s heart. Lo, they fought him even as one man, each using the other’s attributes to keep Abaddon off balance, to beat him into submission, to defeat the Destroyer.
While they pressed him, the battle waged citywide. Ashtaroth having charge of his troops held back to survey his army from on high. He saw that with the addition of Talus and the horde from the Elysian Fields, the battle still favored his cause. He smiled knowing that his master had succeeded in drawing all attention to the city while he himself was set to the true prize.
“Note brother, how the princes smite Abaddon,” said Asmodeus.
Ashtaroth chuckled. "They know not that they merely act in accordance with the master’s will.” Ashtaroth smiled as he watched the princes subdue Abaddon and hold him fast with chains of iron, yet they struggled to contain him, for the battle still raged about them.
Ashtaroth smirked, sighed, looked up, and breathed in Heaven’s air, now filled with smoke and the ash of the broken and crushed stones of his master’s adversaries. As he watched a flock of gulls that hovered over the battlefield, his eyes strained to see flashes of what seemed like balls of lightning coming towards them.
The luminescent birds of Heaven flew over the city, squawked at the bodies of the fallen, and wailed for the dissolution that was beneath them. Manna fields burned to the east, black smoke filled the sky to the south, and below them, the dead lined the streets as fallen autumn leaves waiting to be raked.
As a school of fish flees a predator, they too dispersed as the air crackled with thunder and lightning as Chronos and a host of angels that possessed the power of teleportation fell to the ground shouting a cry of battle. Thousands descended like electrified hailstones onto the city streets and instantly took up arms to fight those who possessed the mark of Lucifer.
With the landing of Chronos and the host, the clouds themselves gave up the ghost. Each opened their mouths to whisper the word, “Woe,” between them until it covered the whole of Heaven. When their sadness had pillowed to overflowing, rain fell from the sky, for the clouds were alive and cried tears. The angels had taken no notice of their presence and pierced them with Ladders so that their wounds were such they now bled out as it were great drops of foul smelling vinegar. A filmy liquid that splashed from the sky of Heaven and the birds cawed and sought escape, for they found themselves now covered in slime. Many dropped from the sky while others flew to hide themselves for the whole of Heaven’s armies had gathered themselves to war, and none considered that reality had begun to tear at itself.
Brother slew brother, and with each angel felled, Heaven's glory diminished. The celestial realm became unhinged and with the loss of each Archon, planets were decimated, and great tears in space opened to swallow galaxies whole, for there was none to watch over El’s word, and none looked to keep it. Creation groaned, for her stewards had turned their face from her. Each looked to his own, and none cared for the things that were El’s. They left their first station to clash with one another.
Darkness reclaimed realms that once gleamed in light, and even the Earth convulsed as continents shifted and leviathans and dinosaurs assailed by earthquakes were buried beneath rock, sand, and water.
The great armies clashed steel against steel. As the rage of angels burned towards one another, Asmodeus frowned as he looked about him, for he saw that the way to the Kingdom of Heaven was open and the legions of El had found passage. He looked disapprovingly at Ashtaroth and said, “Did we cause with Lucifer to bring asunder the very fabric of all things? Behold the host has come. We are undone.”
“Nay–– not yet,” replied Ashtaroth. “There is still the master.” Ashtaroth then pointed towards a giant protrusion that swelled from the mountain of God.
Without warning, a great shock wave burst through the air, and trees, rock, and fire streaked across the sky. The ground itself heaved, buckled, and caused all to hesitate and stop to see this new thing. A blast of thunder and rock erupted to the north, and each beheld with mouths agape: all now frozen in awe at the mountain of God and the source of their birthplace.
The Kiln had exploded.
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Jerahmeel ran into the Spire of Tomes and yelled for Raphael. “Raphael, are you here? Where are you?”
“Over here!” cried Raphael, “in the steward’s room.”
Jerahmeel ran past desks and tables with maps, parchments, and volumes tripped, and fell to the floor, landing with a great thud. He pushed himself up and looked behind him to see that by his feet laid the dead body of Hariph sprawled behind his help desk.
He died even at his post. Jerahmeel raised himself to his feet, continued to walk, and entered into the steward’s room.
The room was as a dome with a pinnacle that shot high into the sky. Round about the dome were projections of all the happenings in all realms.
Raphael stood motionless and watched the panoramic display of galaxies, stars, and life across galaxies begin to deteriorate, for Elohim, who were charged to watch over the course of all things, were now vacant from their posts, and with El’s and their absence, the realms slowly fell into ruin.
Raphael stared at the projections and said, “All things are upheld by the word of His power. But El stands mute, still in Sabbath, and the stewards appointed have left their first estate.”
He pointed and they both watched as a planet seeded with life ripped apart, for the star which orbited it went nova, and its Archon was absent.
“We must hurry Jerahmeel, or there will be no multiverse when El awakes from his rest.”
“Will El return? And what will be his mind when he sees what the people have done?”
Determined to bring sanity to the madness, Raphael took the Tome of Iniquity and quickly set it upon a golden pedestal in the center of the room. Then faced his brother and spoke.
“He will be wroth.”
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“In El’s name!” said Chronos. When he spoke the clocks within him stopped, and suddenly around him, all things slowed. He moved to knock a brother from the path of a large boulder that had ejected from the Kiln, and when the angel was safely out the way, the clocks within Chronos moved again; the giant boulder then resumed its original speed and smashed behind them barely missing them. When Chronos looked down, he had saved his comrade from destruction. Noting that he bore the mark of Lucifer, Chronos rose from atop him and asked.
“Whom do you serve?”
The angel replied, “I am with El, but my deeds have brought me shame.”
Chronos hugged him and covered him with his own body as fire fell upon them all. The skies lit as fireworks as the ejected Stones of Fire cooled and dropped upon them, obliterating all that they touched.
“We are undone, for the God stones fall on us,” cried Chronos. “I k
now not what this day will bring. Nevertheless, thou shall not be brought low by my hand. Take heart. For God is with us.”
The heavenly host, which had assembled in the city, ran for fear as pyroclastic bombs of rock and smoke jetted from the mountain's side, and hurtled across the cityscape, smashing into buildings, and set shop and angel ablaze.
The Kilnstones landed as falling stars, living things, which hitherto fore had sung, ‘to be.” Now removed from the heated womb of the Kiln, they echoed their terror and wailed in anger across the land. Each swallowed into great light anything that they touched, and angels and every living thing ran from them, for their yearning "to be" disintegrated all that was.
From the side of the mountain, a dust cloud billowed into the sky, and two bright lights streaked like lightning across the sky. In the midst of the tumult, Michael and Lucifer plummeted towards the temple.
Lucifer, scarred from battle, was unlike anything the host had ever seen, for though his sigil was clear. He was a huge dragon with 10 heads, and he flew with wings to hold up his monstrosity of a body. He had two tails with barbs that protruded from their tips, smoke and fire simmered from his mouth, and another larger stone that sung pulsated within him. Fire belched from his carnivorous mouth, and he flew through the sky raining flame upon all that he saw. He twisted falling out of control as he hurtled towards the ground.
Atop his back was Michael in white robes encircled by seven blue swords and each was as the Ophanim but smaller, and they sliced through Lucifer as the brothers plunged to the earth. Michael rode Lucifer as a beast and struck his sword deep into one of Lucifer’s skulls, and the great dragon roared in pain.
They fell from the sky headlong into the court of the Burning Ones, crashing into the steps of the gates and blasting into the doors of the throne room and into the Holy of Holies.
All of Heaven watched as Michael with seven levitating swords fought Lucifer. When Michael pointed at the neck of his brother, a sword flew through the air and embedded itself into his throat, causing Lucifer to let out a gurgling scream. The concussion of his voice knocked the Seraphim to the ground, and their flames extinguished because the blast was of such force. The temple doors creaked from the impact of Lucifer’s cry: all onlookers knelt and covered their ears.