The Third Heaven Series Boxed Set: Books (1-3)

by Donovan Neal

  A place Jerahmeel would be forced to cut down his own people.

  Jerahmeel heaved the axes and kept them twirling in the air as foes ducked, and bobbed. But the prince was ferocious. There were many, and he was but one. Yet he would not die on the field of battle this day. And those who were once former brothers would rue the day they turned against El.

  “Aaaaarrrggghhh!” The cry of his battle roar incited fear, into his foes. Yet nevertheless, they came. A horde of angelic warriors, each jealous, and spiteful that within their presence stood their former leader whose presence reminded them of their failure. A light of testimony to their decision, and a judge of their future. Thus, they assailed him to snuff out that light, to at all costs live in the comfort of darkness so that the truth could not be told to them: the truth that they had abandoned God.

  Therefore, they swarmed Jerahmeel, hundreds in all directions encircled him. Flicking his wrists, he recalled his twirling axes to his side and stomped his foot hard into the earth. The blow from his stomp reverberated across the floor of the earth, sending seismic waves that rippled across the ground, causing the terrain to buckle and the earth opened up her mouth and swallowed many within her grasp. But these were citizens of Heaven and the Earth held little sway over the spiritual nomads that now occupied her, and so they crawled from the newly-formed fractures and fissures that spewed smoke and fire.

  A whoosh sound was heard in the sky, and a bright figure fell from the heaven and Talus landed on bended knee and unsheathed a flaming sword. Jerahmeel looked upon him, relieved.

  "How did you find me?" he questioned, panting as they looked at the thousands gathering to attack them.

  Talus moved to cover his brother’s back and said over his shoulder, "I will always find you."

  They looked at the Horde assembled before them, as they stood guard over one another. Now in defense to fight off a wave of angels who they had once called brethren. Jerahmeel looked as their enemies charged to bring them down.

  "They are coming!" Jerahmeel yelled.

  "Let them come," Talus replied.

  And as one man they unleashed their weapons as angels attacked them. Flames stretched from Talus's sword and heavenly fire caused enemies to shriek in a pain. Jerahmeel grabbed an angel in midair who leaped onto them and slammed his adversary face down into the ground. A "thunk" could be heard as Talus's sword found its way into the chest of their enemy.

  Sounds of screams echoed in the air, and the numbers of attackers heaped themselves as fodder for the Lumazi's unleashed rage.

  "There are too many," said Jerahmeel.

  "Greater are they that are with us than they that are against us. Behold!" Talus pointed to the northern sky and a legion of angels fell on the back lines of those who had arrayed themselves to bring the duo down. The Horde turned to their rear as angels armored with sword and shield fell upon them and blasted their rear ranks, sending the group into confusion. Jerahmeel and Talus pressed towards their angelic reinforcements, and those who had taken up arms to defend them also pushed forward to meet them.

  Each group pressed forward as angel after angel attacked and advanced to keep the Horde at bay, smiting down enemy after winged enemy until when the dust had settled. A pile of bodies lay round about them and both Lumazi and their angelic reinforcements had met in the middle victorious.

  Talus gripped his sword, its blade bloodied, and wiped it against the robes of a fallen foe.

  "Your arrival is timely. We are in your debt. Who commands this garrison, that we might honor him who has helped Heaven in her cause?"

  An angel moved forward to the front of the lines. "I am Shophar of House Arelim, my Prince. When word through Grigoric scouts gave mention that Prince Talus and Jerahmeel were seen Earthside in battle, and when the movement of the enemy had a troop gather towards this location, I summoned forces who might be of aid. We are thine to command, my Prince, speak the word only and we shall obey."

  Jerahmeel smiled. "We give thanks to you and your soldiers, Shophar—“

  And before Jerahmeel could finish, an angel pointed to a gathering dark storm in the distance of the sky.

  A second wave was coming, much larger then before.

  *********************

  Azaziel gripped his chest as he looked upon Lahatiel, watching his movements, waiting for him to take advantage of his injury and press his attack. The pain wracked his body as spasms made his muscles to ache. He spit blood on the ground and Lahatiel also watched his injured adversary as a wolf encircles wounded prey.

  "It will give me great pleasure to smite at the command structure of Heaven herself. I will send your head to my master as a token,” Lathathiel said.

  Azaziel gingerly rose to his feet and placed his left arm around his ribs. "You will find that my head is not so easily removed."

  Lahatiel chuckled. "We shall see." He walked slowly towards him and dragging his sword on the ground.

  Azaziel looked for Argoth then rose to the sky and raced towards Volac to assist his friend, who stood immobilized. Lahatiel was surprised and mocked his adversaries retreat. "Does the Lumazi run?" Lahatiel smiled in gleeful anticipation to his enemy's change in tactics and quickly turned to hunt his wounded prey.

  Volac looked upon Argoth and smiled. "Goodbye, Chief of Eyes, may you bask in eternal darkness!"

  Raising his mace above his shoulders, he twisted his hips to bring the weapon square against the face of his enemy. Azaziel raced to his brother’s side and ducked under the legs of Volac, sliding on the ground as he did. Azaziel’s momentum carried him underneath his adversary and with a dagger in hand, he slit the bowels of Volac, grabbed Argoth, and with his great wings lifted them both into the sky.

  Volac dropped his mace and collapsed to the ground, howling like an injured animal. Blood and entrails pooled beneath him as he in vain sought to keep his innards from spilling out. Lahatiel landed next to Volac and stood over him, laughing at the angel as he bled out.

  "Don't just stand there, help me!" Volac screamed. "What are you staring at?"

  Lahatiel unsheathed his blade and its onyx glint shown black in the sunlit sky. He drew close to his brother in arms and spoke. "A dead man."

  Lahatiel then slit Volac's throat. The mist from his lacerated comrade sprayed blue in the air and covered his face. He spat on the ground and spoke, as Volac drowned in his own blood. "Only the strong survive."

  Lahatiel turned his blood-spattered face skyward and lifted himself into the air to continue his stalking of Azaziel, who flew hobbled as he carried the immobile Argoth in his arms.

  *********************

  Assyrix watched as the final shade of Argoth's cover fell under his defilement. The glowing shield that protected Nazareth fell and he entered the city. His eyes darted to spy out the young maiden he had seen in his trance, a small Jewish maid. A woman who seemed to be of the Levitical line of Aaron.

  Human filth. It will be good to slit this woman's throat.

  Assyrix saw a synagogue and surrounding it were men each who held a staff in their hand. Kneeling, each of the men prayed.

  Assyrix laughed mockingly. "Chattel, good-for-nothing image of God! Phhssftt!"

  Assyrix continued to watch the men as one man's staff blossomed over all others and then a white dove alighted on it before flying off. The men rose and stared at the man. Another man more aged than the rest walked slowly down the synagogue’s steps. His colored robes showed him as a person of distinction. Assyrix recognized him as a priest and listened as the man spoke.

  "The Lord has given a sign, Joseph."

  The priest then extended his hand and a young woman descended from the synagogue attired in white linen and her hair was brown with black hues, and she was a fair woman and olive in complexion.

  "Mary, what is your wish concerning Joseph?" asked the older man.

  Mary extended her hand to Joseph and smiled. "I accept his proposal."

  Cheers rang across the area, and Assyrix smiled. "Ah so, a
t last, you are found. You will die, and your flesh will serve as fodder for Hell.”

  Assyrix then descended to smite the girl down and destroy the city, but as he fell, he heard a voice from his rear and turned his head.

  "You are Assyrix Grigori. You will surrender your tome and submit to redaction."

  Assyrix turned to see that Turiel stood behind him, and he panicked and attempted to flee. However, when he turned to depart, Isidor stood before him, blocking his path.

  "The Redaction is not complete," said Isidor.

  "You have seeded this realm in commentary," said Turiel.

  "Your commentary must end," Isidor replied.

  A burning sensation originated in Assyrix's chest he looked down to see a ghostly hand emerge from his abdomen. The pain seized him, and he stiffened as his body froze and the birth of a screech curdled in his gut, traveling up his throat and unleashed as a scream into the warm air.

  Assyrix's stylus and inkhorn collapsed as if suddenly they were objects of immense gravity, and Turiel emerged as a specter from within Assyrix's body. His hands held the tome of Assyrix, the beating heart of his prey.

  Turiel floated away from the body of Assyrix, and Lucifer's Chief of Eyes reached for his heart that was now open in Turiel's hand. Turiel flipped through the pulsating pages, and Isidor handed him the inkhorn and stylus of Assyrix, and he placed them into the folds of his robes.

  "Your tome is replete with commentary. You will be redacted," he said.

  Turiel began to blot out from within the tome and strike out sections of written text, and as he did so Assyrix bellowed and began to vanish. Slowly and with every erasure, he receded into nothing, and as he did so, a light projected above him of such intensity that Assyrix turned his vanishing eyes that he might see. Snow-like tendrils of light streaked across his face, and both Turiel and Isidor bowed when they too saw the light.

  The vanishing eyes of Assyrix grew wide even as he looked at the figure that glowed with an immensity that rivaled the sun. A tear slid down his fading cheek as he stared into the face of El Pneuma, the Holy Spirit of God. A tear that with the prior erasure of Turiel's pen slowly began to blot from existence. A tear that never reached the ground as the face on which it traveled suddenly ceased to exist.

  The Holy Spirit landed as His robes billowed in the wind, and great dark wings filled with stars spread from him. His hand held an iron staff that gleamed with all manner of diamonds, ruby, pearl and onyx, and the Shekinah surrounded Him, and His presence caused the very ground to grow new blades of grass under His feet. He turned his face towards His ministers of flame, and Azaziel flew as a wounded bird, falling at the Holy Spirits feet. The presence of the Lord caused his wounds to self-suture and heal, and Argoth coughed up blood and gasped as if rescued from drowning. Heaving great gasps to fill his lungs, Argoth managed to voice, "My King," and laid face down on the ground.

  Lahatiel, stalking the duo, came near and landed near the Holy Spirit. Amazed that a member of the Godhead stood before him. He tearfully cried out to his former King, "Have you come to torment me before the time?"

  The Holy Spirit said nothing but looked upon His wayward son, and Lahatiel knew that it was a look of disappointment. It was the hardened look of a father who must surrender His wayward child for discipline, and the Holy Spirit turned His back to him and walked through the quartet of bowed angels that now lay prostrate at his feet, and headed towards the town of Nazareth to Mary.

  "Do not turn your back on me!" screamed Lahatiel. "You owe me! I am YOUR son! You have rejected me! Your son ejected from his own home! How could you!" Lahatiel ran to confront his God, and as he took a step, his foot turned to stone. He took another step to move forward and then it, too, turned to stone. Anger raged within him, fire erupted within his heart, and he pushed onward as the third person of the Trinity continued to walk towards the city of men to see the young woman He had come for.

  "Who do you love? Why do you not love us? Why not us?" cried Lahatiel.

  And with each step he took, his feet became heavy and his arms slowly turned to stone. Soon he was within arm’s reach of Azaziel, who looked at him in disgust.

  "You think He loves you more than me? He loves you not..."

  And in that moment, the whole of Lahatiel turned to stone and collapsed into a pile of rubble at Azaziel's feet. Azaziel, Argoth, and the Redactors rose to their feet and stared at the rubble, and Azaziel watched as the Holy Spirit now stood next to a young woman who was seated by a well, giggling with other maidens, rejoicing that she had become betrothed.

  *********************

  Talus stood atop the mountain which overlooked the small village and looked upon the troop that he and Jerahmeel commanded. The warm wind of summer caressed his cheek and the firmness of the earth reminded him of the firmness needed for what lay ahead. He watched his soldiers, wondering what he would say to them. Their eyes beamed with hopeful anticipation upon both he and Jerahmeel. Talus looked down at his sword; it was newly minted, yet was also newly baptized in the blood of those he had slain. He smiled at Jerahmeel, and his brother returned the tenderness and nodded to him, then spoke. "Say what must be said, brother, and let thy words ring true."

  Talus looked away from his brother, then raised his eyes toward the throng and opened his mouth to speak. "On this day, the host of the Fallen have come to rend us. They come bidden to upend the plan of the Lord. To upend the birth of God in the Earth. And of all Creation that El would send to stand as the standard against this threat. Of the multitudes of Elohim who fly amongst the stars. He has chosen to send you. Now turn ye to the right hand and to the left, and look about you; savor this moment. For this moment will determine the way of Heaven and Earth, and know that on this day! You are here to bear witness that Heaven shall never abandon her post! That on this day, we are the right hand of Creation, and that El—El IS ALMIGHTY GOD!"

  The throng roared in defiance to the oncoming army that would within minutes assault them. Talus lifted his sword up high and its golden blade shimmered in the light and the sun's sparkle skipped about the edge.

  Jerahmeel looked to the horizon and pointed in the distance. "The Horde has come."

  Talus turned from his troops and looked behind him. And when he did he saw that a thunderhead rolled towards them, and within the billows and flashes of lightning, angels rode atop the currents of the overcast sky, and blackness descended as gloom upon the land. Within twinkling bursts of lightning, the illuminated horde of thousands of angels could be seen falling upon them.

  Talus's brow tensed and he spoke aloud for all to hear, "No quarter asked! No quarter given!"

  Immediately, angels fell upon them from the sky as bolts of lightning. Crashing to the ground, they unsheathed swords and their blades sliced through the defenders of light. Heaven-forged steel clanged against Hell forged cutlasses. As waves crash the shore, so too did the Horde flood over the angels. Angels fought back to back as limbs were severed from bodies and angelic wings frayed under the assault of so many.

  Jerahmeel swung his axe upward into the face of an oncoming attacker, lifting him into the sky and sending him reeling into another, knocking several into crumpled piles from the sheer force of his blow.

  Talus, his back to his brother, yelled, "There are too many!" He slashed at an oncoming angel, hacking off its leg. The fallen angel fell hard on his back and Talus brought his sword square into his chest.

  Jerahmeel yelled back, "I bet you wished you had stayed in bed!"

  Talus roared, "The thought had crossed my mind!"

  Knocking an angel in the jaw, Talus and Jerahmeel flipped positions, and Talus parried a thrust, unarming his attacker, and kicked him square in the chest, sending him flying. Jerahmeel held his axe before his face, lifting the shaft to deflect a blow. He caught the attacking angel by his throat, head-butted him, and knocked his attacker unconscious.

  Wave after wave they fought, as those who had come to fight for El's cause slowly whittled away u
nder the massive onslaught of the Fallen. Until thousands became hundreds and hundreds became tens.

  Talus, seeing that their position was overrun, spoke in Elohim and summoned a ladder. A prismatic funnel materialized over both Jerahmeel and the few remaining angels who fought by their side. Jerahmeel, beating back enemies, felt the tug of the ladder begin to lift him and his comrades away.

  "What are you doing?" Jerahmeel yelled.

  "Saving your life," Talus shouted back.

  Jerahmeel then was ripped from the earth, and he shot upwards as the Ladder pulled him away from the mob that now encircled Talus. The Prince of House Arelim still fought in ferocious desperation to buy his comrades time to escape.

  Spirited away through prismatic streams of light, Jerahmeel watched as his brother felled hundreds only to be ultimately engulfed by thousands of the Horde who with club, sword, and shield beat the head of House Arelim into the ground. The ground collapsed under the throng and Talus and thousands of the Horde plummeted into the earth.

  "TALUS!" Jerahmeel cried.

  But it was too late, for his brother was gone, and in the twinkling of an eye Jerahmeel and a few of those saved were jettisoned away from Earth, past its moon and rocketed to the realm immortal.

  The Ladder collapsed at a waypoint near the entrance of the Heavenly city and Jerahmeel dropped his mace in shock, fell to his knees, and wept.

  *********************

  Gabriel and Metatron had returned to battle and they each took their legions away from Judea to lead the forces of Lucifer away, and Michael wondered if he would ever see them again. Though the two were powerful, they were still but two. Several of the battalions of the Fallen turned to follow Metatron and Gabriel. And the duo fought, and to see Metatron do battle was to watch a living scythe. For with his mighty wings he cut foes down, and with his breath, he blasted opponents to dissolution before him and fell through the ashes of the Fallen to repeat the feat.