Mustering all of his courage, Timur reached out to the urn that sat upon his desk. His forehead began to sweat profusely as he clenched his teeth. Though he was ever loyal to the darkness, it had been many years since he had felt the overwhelming presence of the Leviathan. Removing the lid, he reached in and took a handful of ashes. In his other palm sat a small reliquary. His stomach was tied up in knots as he slowly poured the ashes into the small container. As he did so, he closed his eyes and focused all of his energy upon the ashes. That familiar sickly-green light escaped behind the slits of his eyelids as the aura surrounded him. In a flash of brilliant green light, Timur and the reliquary were gone.
Chapter Eleven: Undetermined Fate
Among the Morning Stars of heaven, a certain Malakh succumbed to the influence of the Leviathan and rebelled against God. There was a war in heaven: the Malakhim of Lucifer fought, and prevailed not; and didst lose their place in heaven…
– Methuselah 8:3 –
As she pulled into her apartment complex late that afternoon, Lily recognized the style of the unmarked van parked across the street.
They sent out the IT Repo crew already?
The reality of her circumstance was starting to set in. She had spent all afternoon driving around town looking for Allan in all of his usual places. She found his car in the parking garage near his office, but Allan had left no signs as to where he could have gone after he left Grant Park. She was worried sick about him, and was absolutely convinced he was in some sort of trouble. Several times she had suppressed the urge to try to call his cell phone, knowing fully that it had been confiscated by the police as evidence against him. She was overwhelmed by a deep depression knowing that she would get on that plane in the morning and would never see Allan again.
She climbed the stairs to the third floor. As she opened the front door to her soon-to-be forsaken apartment, she was nearly run over by a couple of crew members who were carrying out the sliding panel from her study.
“Excuse us!” one of the men apologized.
She found several more crew members inside busily removing NSA computer equipment that had been hidden behind the wall. She watched them remorsefully for several minutes as they went about their work. Though she had very limited time available to pack her belongings, she couldn’t bring herself to start working on it right away. She knew she had wasted several precious packing hours in a fruitless search for Allan, but how can you possibly pack up five years of your life in only a single evening anyway?
After a few more minutes, she accepted the fact that she needed to at least get started. She left the crew to do their work, and went upstairs to her bedroom. From the closet she pulled out a large suitcase. Her beautiful maroon dress stood out brilliantly in the closet. Though she had purchased it years ago, it was still covered with the store’s plastic garment bag. She had been secretly hoping that she could finally wear it tonight for her delayed acceptance of his proposal.
Unwilling to part with it, she removed the hangar and carefully laid it in her suitcase. From her drawers she pulled out enough clothing to last her a week knowing that the NSA would provide her with a new wardrobe once she settled into her new assignment. On top of the dresser stood a picture frame with a photo from over four years ago. She picked it up and cradled it in her hands as the memory flooded back. Allan had invited her to join him for a business conference in Atlanta. During their free time, she insisted on going to the beach. They spent an entire afternoon on Tybee Island, and in the photo Allan was carrying her on his back. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, and his bulky arms held up her slender legs. She admired his chiseled chest and tight abs, regardless of the fact that Allan had gained several pounds since this photo had been taken. Tears continued to flow as she acknowledged that this was the moment she truly fell in love with Allan.
She added the photo to her suitcase, and went into the bathroom. As she gathered her toiletries, she found her favorite nail polish. She wasn’t too fond of the color, but she wore it often because it reminded her of Allan. Two years ago for Valentine’s Day he had purchased it and had spent that evening learning how to paint her nails. The overall finished product appeared to have been done by a child, but the memory was distinct. Since then, for any special occasion that arose she would choose to wear that shade of nail polish.
I have to stay strong.
She stared at her forlorn reflection in the mirror, a thought creeped from the back of her mind. Though she would probably get reprimanded for her actions later, she knew she couldn’t just leave him without an explanation. Returning to the bedroom, she pulled out a notepad and a pen from the nightstand:
My dearest Allan,
I want you to know that I love you immensely, but I can’t marry you. I’m sorry I can’t be the woman you want me to be. I know this will be difficult for you to understand, but I must leave now. I hope that someday you will find a woman worthy of your love.
Love always, Lily
She tore the message out of her notepad and placed it in an envelope.
“Agent Wilson?” one of the crew members asked from the doorway.
Lily jumped in surprise and hid the envelope behind her back, “Yes?”
“I’m James, the project manager. We should be out of here within about ten minutes. A few of my men are bringing in the pre-painted replacement wall, and we should have it up and secured in fairly short time.” he paused and extended his palm, “But there is still the matter of your cell phone.”
She stared at him incredulously. She had entirely forgotten it was NSA issued.
“Umm...” she cringed, “I think not.”
“I have my orders.” he spoke sternly while still extending his palm.
Flustered she asked, “Can I at least save my personal items first?”
He frowned, “You have ten minutes.”
She nodded as he turned away. She raced downstairs and squeezed past several crew members in her study. She pulled her personal laptop out of the desk, and began booting it up while she approached the sofa in the living room. Sitting down, she realized to her frustration that her computer was installing several updates.
“Come on!” she rolled her eyes in annoyance, “Stupid computer.”
By the time the computer finally allowed her to log in, seven precious minutes had already passed.
“All right, we’re done here.” the project manager approached her again with his palm extended.
“Just give me a minute!” she shrieked as she plugged in her USB cord.
He began tapping his foot impatiently as he stared at her. She ignored him, and dragged over the files of old pictures and music. The progress bar indicated the process would take about four minutes to complete.
“Agent Wilson,” he huffed as his tapping became louder, “Your time is up. I need to report back to the office immediately.”
“Well then, I guess you’ll have to go without my phone.” she glared at him.
His eyes remained stern, “You know I can’t do that.”
He suddenly made a move to grab the phone, and she swatted his hand away.
“How dare you!” she yelled at him, “Back off!”
He raised his hands in surrender and took a step backward, “You’re making my job difficult.”
She ignored him. The progress bar indicated she would need about another minute for the files to finish moving over.
“Sir,” one of the crew members stepped inside, “We really need to go. People will be arriving home from work soon, and we might get spotted by a nosy neighbor.”
He nodded in agreement, and without warning he suddenly grabbed the phone and yanked the USB cord free. An error box appeared on the screen indicating that the file transfer had corrupted. The project manager took off at a run, and Lily dropped the laptop on the couch and launched after him. She raced out the front door and was halfway across the yard by the time he and his crew member had gotten to the van. With a screech of the tires, they were gone
.
Lily screamed in rage as she hopelessly ran a block down the street. The van disappeared around a corner, and she slowed to a stop. She stood there in the middle of the road feeling defeated, and without warning she started sobbing uncontrollably.
“Lily, sweetheart?” an elderly woman called from her porch, “Is everything okay?”
It was Evelyn Morris, her neighbor. Lily had come to know her pretty well at church, and had learned that her husband had passed away a few years ago.
She continued to sob uncontrollably as Evelyn approached her from her yard.
“There, there child.” Evelyn wrapped her arms around her, “Tell Grandma Evelyn all about it.”
“He took…” she sobbed without realizing what she was saying, “my phone…”
“The men in that van…” Evelyn looked slightly alarmed, “My dear child, did you just get robbed?”
Lily shook her head ‘no’ while she continued to sob into Evelyn’s shoulder.
“Did they hurt you?” she asked in a panic.
Lily shook her head ‘no’ again. She felt powerless to stop the tears from flowing.
“Is it Allan?”
This time she nodded.
“He dumped you for another girl, didn’t he?” apparently confirming a previous suspicion, “I thought it was odd this morning when I looked online and his profile indicated that he is ‘in a relationship’ but your name was no longer listed. Now it makes sense.”
The NSA removed my profile already?
“No...” she shook her head again as she regained control of herself, “He asked me to marry him.”
“That’s wonderful!” she beamed, “When’s the big date?”
“There won’t be one.” her eyes were far away.
Evelyn’s face contorted in confusion, “I don’t understand.”
“I’m leaving.” she moaned, “Today.”
“But you love him.” she tried to console, “Everyone gets cold feet sometimes.”
“I do love him, but I can’t stay. It’s too complicated to explain.” she then gave Evelyn a hug, “I’ll miss you.”
Chapter Twelve: Mists of Darkness
And Lucifer was cast out, called the Devil, and Satan, which doth deceive the whole world: he was cast out into the Earth, and his fallen Malakhim were cast out with him. They were thrust down from the presence of God, and were called the Watchers…
– Methuselah 8:4 –
Falling to his knees, Timur cradled his head in his hands and scrunched his eyes in anguish. Mists of darkness swirled around him as the whispers inside his head gained volume and intensity. A dark cloud entirely engulfed him, and he moaned in agony as he struggled to regain control. His eyes were still glowing from the transport, and an aura of sickly green light began to form around him. With a guttural roar, he silenced the voices in his head.
The dark mists slid across the ground like fluid water from all directions. Another dark cloud rose up directly in front of him as the mists gathered in a mushroom until it formed a massive creature.
“Mine anointed.” A voice hissed from the cloud, “Why hast thou not brought me any fresh souls to devour?”
“Forgive me, my Lord.” Timur stood at his full stature, “I have come to seek thy council. It would appear that another Seraph has Awakened.”
The red glow from the creature’s hollow eyes ravenously grew brighter, “Bring him unto me! I must devour him!”
“I shall, my Lord.” Timur nodded, “But it appears I am unable to control him.”
“Go unto thine Oracle for council…” the Leviathan seethed, “…for I am too weak.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“And do not return hither without a fresh soul to consume!”
Timur shuddered, “You have my word.”
Slowly the dark cloud dissipated, and Timur could now see Atlantis rising up before him. Though once vast and glorious, the ruins could hardly be called a city anymore. Many of the grand spires were now charred towers of teetering rock, and the once-populous land was now sparse and barren. The only life stirring inside the City of Atlantis now were the rats and Timur’s corrupt priests. Surrounding the city were hundreds of make-shift huts that housed the remains of the peasant population which had been reserved as human sacrifices for the Leviathan. Since Timur’s reign had begun, most of the population had either been killed or had long ago escaped into the dense forests. Many raids had since ensued to eliminate any survivors. By now, Timur was quite confident that the rebels had been crushed.
“Your holiness,” a priest bowed in reverence, “a chariot awaits thee.”
Timur reached forward and touched the crown of the priest’s head and spoke in pure mockery, “Blessed are ye.”
Upon discovery of his return to the planet Zion, he had been clothed in the most exquisite of robes fit for a King. After all, he was the ‘god’ of this other world, at least according to that which was being preached. Only a few peasants stood as his chariot flew by. Their eyes betrayed pain and loathing, and every face looked sickly.
Only the cawing of crows announced his arrival as the chariot entered the gates. As he ascended the levels of the city and approached the summit, a grand cathedral-like building rose in grandeur. The edifice had stood the test of time against all of the wars and pestilences that had afflicted this cursed land. Long ago it had once been a glorious temple wherein the people had worshiped their God. Today, it was Timur’s home away from home.
The chariot slowed as it pulled up to the grand staircase. Waiting at the bottom was an elderly High Priest with white hair and a long gray beard. As always, an iguana sat oddly perched on his shoulder. He bowed in reverence as Timur stepped out.
“Rise.”
Timur approached him, “Abner, it’s good to see you. You look well.”
“Thou art too kind, my holiness.” they ascended the stairs together, “I doth become more feeble by the hour.”
Two younger priests grunted as they pulled open the colossal doors.
“Pray tell, for what cause dost thou grace us with thine presence?” High Priest Abner spoke, “I dare say, ‘tis been many years.”
“I have a problem.” Timur explained, “I need your counsel.”
They stood beneath an archway as Timur explained in hushed tones the events that had transpired over the past few days regarding Allan’s awakening.
“I feel that my powers are growing weak.” Timur explained, “and I’m afraid that somehow Allan has found a way to drain them from me. I need your direction. I have already tried to kill him, but for some reason I can’t.”
Abner laid his palm on the back of the iguana and stared ahead blankly for several minutes in silence. His eyes appeared misty and glazed over. Timur didn’t interrupt him, for he was accustomed to Abner’s visions.
After a few minutes, a sudden look of concern stumbled across Abner’s face and he began muttering, “Alas, this cannot be!”
Timur was growing impatient.
“Come with me.” Abner suddenly released his hand from the iguana’s back and motioned Timur to follow.
They entered the great temple and Abner led the way through several archways until they reached the furthest end. There stood a large round slab of stone, which Abner ordered four younger priests to remove. After many grunts and groans, a dark passageway revealed itself and from it escaped a putrid stale odor.
“Where are you taking me?” Timur stammered.
“Unto the tombs of our ancient ones.” Abner spoke as one of the priests handed him a lit torch.
Reluctantly, Timur took a second torch from the young priest and followed Abner down a steep declining stairway. The four young priests trailed behind him. He started to breathe heavy as flashbacks from his imprisonment threatened to engulf him. The dark passageway flickered with terrifying shadows as light from the flames of their torches danced across the walls. Thick cobwebs hung limply from the corners as Abner tore through them with his torch.
Finally, they reached the bottom of the stairwell which opened up to a large tomb. Within the large damp room were just over ten thick slabs of concrete. Each one contained the decaying body of one of the ancient kings of this once great city. Upon each slab were engraved names and accomplishments in an ancient language that Timur couldn’t decipher. Abner walked around the room and lit several torches that protruded from the walls. As he went, he wiped away dust and cobwebs from each wall to reveal multiple ancient hieroglyphs painted on them.
“These,” Abner paused in reverence, “are the prophecies of the ancients. You must understand your purpose before you can understand how to destroy this man called Allan.”
“My purpose?”
“Thou art a Seraph,” Abner explained, “a holy angel anointed by God.”
“I knew that already.”
“Ah, but thou dost not understand thine heritage.”
“Abner.” Timur chided, “I don’t have time to listen to a history lesson. I feel myself growing weaker by each passing minute. Just tell me how to destroy him.”
Abner’s face fell, “Then I shall give unto thee a brief version. The man thou didst kill five hundred years ago wast thine predecessor.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Willam stammered, “You told me he was the King of this land.”
“Verily, he was.” Abner agreed, “Yea, ‘twas also the last known Seraph before thine awakening. He also was born upon the other world you call Earth.”
Timur was stunned. He had no words to express.
“Thine ignorance dost cost thee precious time.”
“But that means…” Timur stammered, “I would have become King regardless of whether or not I overthrew him.”
“Verily, ‘tis so.”
“Then why was I locked up in that dungeon for all of those many years?!” Timur practically screamed.
“Alas, ‘twas because of the Great Prophecy.”
Conquest: Rise of the Fifth Horseman (The Fifth Horseman Series Book 1) Page 5