Gabriel laughed. “I imagine Uriel and Azarias are probably lost at the crowded Thyatira castle. Azarias is probably standing at the top steps, proclaiming God’s grace, while Uriel fidgets with his fingers.”
Michael tossed him a glance. “What about Malachy and Pollyon? Now there’s a mismatch of gifts. She completely engulfs herself in history, and he memorizes the present. All they ever talk about is trivia but in different timeframes.”
“What do you think about Raffaela?” said Gabriel. Below them, golden amborlite parted as the Spirit cut two wakes before them.
“Oh please, Raffaela is probably basking in the vinifera, awing angels with her wisdom.” He shot ahead of Gabriel. “Some angels get the easiest missions.” Looking back, he considered Gabriel a long moment before releasing the turbulence inside. “Gabriel, what do you think of Azarias as a leader?”
Gabriel seemed to do a double-take. Had he never questioned Azarias? “Well, do you remember when he said, I am not the leader you think I am. I am deeply flawed.”
“Of course,” said Michael. It had been gnawing at him since the beginning of the mission. He wanted to say something to Azarias, but what? He didn’t know whether to agree with him or to encourage him. “That is when I started questioning his leadership abilities.”
Gabriel raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “He seemed to recover, but you never know. He keeps his feelings to himself. As long as he exercises the Lord’s Will, that’s all that is important in a leader.”
“Really, I think he hasn’t been tested yet,” said Michael.
“Tested? In what way?”
Michael hated to be the one to point this out. “I mean he has not faced a travesty yet. I can only guess what was going through his mind when we were almost captured in Smyrna. I know he watched us through the Tome.”
“Well, I hope the mission never amounts to a travesty,” said Gabriel, his eyes hard on Michael’s.
Michael got the message.
The two passed into the brilliant ray leaping from the Sardis surface. Gabriel clapped his hands and smiled, happy to change the subject. “You’ll love Sardis. The Lord’s Spirit interacts with angels more intensely here.”
Gabriel’s propensity to sensationalize the ordinary struck Michael again. And again, because of it, he found his compatriot a calming influence. It could be Gabriel merely saw all of God’s creations as miraculous. Maybe, Michael thought, he too should open his mind to the miraculous, no matter how small and insignificant.
Gabriel flew directly in front of Michael, grinning. He shook his finger as he flew backward. “You’ll see.”
The duo descended to the far side of the tranquil district. Its center butted up against the base of a towering outcropping. Several buildings dotted a colonnade of pillars leading to the slope.
“Beautiful.” Gabriel pointed. “Have you ever heard of color-grace?”
“No, but I bet you’re going to tell me,” Michael said with a smirk.
Gabriel ignored the playful jab. “The color of these structures energizes all who view them. Even though we are all seeing a color of orange brown, I’ve been told that we each are seeing something slightly different in hue.”
They clipped their speed, landed, and strolled in a slow walk. “What are you talking about?” Michael scanned the area. They were looking at the back of the structures. Nothing seemed unusual. What color?
Gabriel hooked his arm around Michael’s shoulders. “The reflective properties of these dwellings are conditioned upon your personal relationship with the Lord.”
“Huh?” Michael half smiled, keeping his eyes on the structures. “I don’t get it.” He felt nothing. Was Gabriel teasing him again? Michael could never tell.
“Just walk, you’ll get it.” Gabriel motioned toward the center of the metropolis.
They rounded a corner, and a great colonnaded passage spread out before them. The passage consisted of two rows of fourteen columns leading to the base of the peak. Dozens of angels walked between the columns. Some dropped their heads, others raised their arms.
Michael looked down. He stood on a marble-like slab laced with what looked like veins of quartz, which blended with the unique colors emitting from the structures.
“So, Gabriel, are these veins also emitting a different color to each of the hundreds of angels walking before us?”
“Yes, so I’m told.” Gabriel placed his hand on Michael’s back and grinned. “Let’s walk between the colonnade and structures and see.”
As they walked, Michael indeed sensed an upwelling inside. Building step by step, it was as if he were connected to the veins in the slab. They infused him with euphoria. A musical sensation seemed to explode from his feet, up through his body and out through his fingertips. An angel’s voice filled him.
http://ow.ly/GLDL50wD5fA
(Click link to hear the music sung by angels to Michael)
Lift up your praise
And honor the One above
Open your heart
To cherish the God, your love
We praise You
We call out Your Name
We praise You
Our faith we do proclaim
Shout out with joy
And hold up a contrite heart
Dance in the wind
And feel yourself set apart
Earth and Heavens quake
Sleeping souls awake101
Fill the warmth within
Resist the lure of sin
Cast off your fears
And bow to the perfect light
Abandon your pride
To honor His righteous might
Is that You?
My dear Lord
Is that You
That I hear?
Here I am
My dear Lord
Here I am
Bending at the knee
I throw myself at You
I purge my heart for You
You fill me
You make me whole
Sing to the Lord
Praise to the Lord
Hands to the Lord
Shout to the Lord
In Your Spirit
Michael, the song finished, stood astonished.
“Wonderful, isn’t it?” uttered Gabriel.
Tears of joy spilled onto his cheeks. “Yes,” he whispered. “Where is it coming from? The colors are kaleidoscopic in the buildings and the slabs. But the music, it is so…so personal.”
The music seemed to harmonize the melodies of countless angels and instruments synchronizing with the colorful corridor. The veins channeled the colors to the end of the passage, continuing up the slope.
Michael scanned the area. Other angels, too, seemed to experience the blessedness of their own personalized light show and symphony.
Gabriel broke the serenity. “Michael. Has the Lord told you of our mission here?”
Michael blinked hard. He didn’t want to leave this state of awe. He quickened their pace. “Yes. We walk into the colonnade and wait for further instructions.”
When they reached the fourth pair of columns, two seraphim of medium height and stature approached.
“Mai Deus Exsisto vobis. We are happy you can join us,” said one, donning a broad smile.
Michael gulped. Join them? How did they know we were coming? “Mai Deus Exsisto vobis,” Michael muttered as he cocked his head.
“The great things we have been promised have not taken place yet, so you have not missed anything,” the second, lighter, host added.
“Great things?” Michael asked, glancing at Gabriel.
“Yes. Isn’t that why you came?” said the first angel, lowering his brow.
Michael stepped forward. He towered over his hosts. “Our intentions are privileged.”
Their mouths dropped open as they stumbled back. Glan
cing at each other, the two hosts ran into the nearest entryway.
“Something is wrong,” Gabriel said, his voice low.
The harmonies changed and transformed into a dark, twelve-tone melody. Michael’s spirit dropped, and nervousness swept through him.
“Do you hear that?” Gabriel whispered.
The orange-brown architecture morphed, and dark reddish hues leached into the veined surface snaking throughout the acropolis.
Gabriel winced and covered his ears. “What’s happening?”
“Look at the other angels.” Michael pointed, cringing. The inharmonic sounds assaulted him. “Did you see how they turned toward the peak as if summoned? None of them covered their ears or even looked the slightest disturbed.”
But the horror unfolding had only just begun.
Thousands of angels, marching out of every opening, commenced a slow and melodic cortège toward the center of the plaza. There, they continued up the slope, right to the base of the towering pinnacle.
“They almost look as if they are in a trance,” said Michael.
“No—look closely at their faces.” Gabriel massaged his temples. “It is not one of unwilling and senseless behavior, but of willingness. They seem to be feeling the euphoria that we felt when the music and sights were normal.”
Michael’s brow furrowed. “Has the Great One taken their wills?”
The resident angels disappeared beyond the high mountain overlooking the district. All sights and sounds of Sardis faded.
Silence now. Emptiness and sorrow filled Michael’s spirit.
“I would think their faith in the Lord is the weakest we have seen. When the spirit is willing, the soul surrenders to temptations within.”102 Gabriel sighed.
“Actually, they are excising their wills, my defeated Septemviri.”
Michael and Gabriel spun around. Two hosts in red robes glared at them. “You are members of a dying breed.”
The hosts’ red robes didn’t waver in the Lord’s Spirit. In fact, the Lord’s Spirit seemed to have departed Sardis entirely. Nothing moved in its breeze, His scent gone.
Truly, it appeared it had exited with that raucous music and the rebellious angels.
But God’s Spirit also didn’t propel the deceived angels. It seemed to leave them to the course they chose.
Michael stepped forward, pushing his twelve-foot broad frame to within inches of their guests. “Well, Baal-Zebub, our friend. The last time we met, I leveled you at Smyrna while carrying Asmodeus to safety.”
Baal-Zebub’s jaw tightened.
“How did you know where to find us in the vastness of Heaven?” asked Gabriel, surveying the empty courtyard.
The other thin-faced red host tapped the end of his fingers together. “The Great One knows all, and we are part of him, and he is part of us. We are all one.”
Gabriel had circled to the side of Michael, partially surrounding the rebellious ones. “Where are the other two hundred thousand? Aren’t you a little shorthanded?”
Baal-Zebub folded his arms. “We are not here to capture you. You see, we have neutralized the important members of the Septemviri. You two are now irrelevant.”
Michael glanced quickly at Gabriel. “I guess that explains the sudden departure. The deceived angels were no longer threatened by us.”
“Surprised, my little slaves?” smirked Baal-Zebub. “You see, as we are speaking, all of your fellow slaves have been captured in Thyatira, Ephesus, and Philadelphia. The Great One thought of capturing you two but decided you were not worth the trouble. The Angels Septemviri is no longer.” Baal-Zebub raised his hand. “Oh, except Raffaela. She is suffering her own special prison.”
“Raffaela—no!” Michael grabbed the thin angel with one hand, lifting him off the slabs. “What have you done with her?”
Baal-Zebub placed his hand on Michael’s shoulder. “My, my, my, you overgrown bird. What are you going to do? The Sardis Legion has already reported back to the Great One. Our oneness is almost complete.”
Michael lowered the angel.
The red hosts laughed as they lifted and flew past the mountain peak. As soon as the two rebel angels departed, the Lord’s Spirit returned blowing the robes of Michael and Gabriel as they watched their enemy fade in the distance.
Gabriel turned to Michael. “We have to get back to Al Birka and see if what they are saying is true. Do you think the Septemviri are no more?”
* * *
94 Psalm 22:1, Mark 15:34
95 John 14:6
96 John 8:12
97 1 Timothy 6:12
98 Psalm 130:1
99 Psalm 40:2
100 Mark 15:34
101 Matthew 27:50-53
102 Matthew 26:41
Chapter 20
The Al Birka outskirts seemed to return to its natural state, void of God’s warriors. Michael and Gabriel, standing on the bluff, looked toward the distant mesas that remained steadfast in their absence. Their hair blew in the Lord’s Spirit, but nothing seemed right. Where were the others? Could Baal-Zebub be telling the truth? Did the Great One take the others captive? Could they be the only two who remained? What were they to do now? The Great Guardian Cherub did not commission them directly, only through Azarias.
Michael couldn’t look at Gabriel. Gabriel’s brown eyes were darkened, the golden tint to his face gone. Michael had never seen him like this before. He, too, has changed. He understood Azarias’s command to offer grace to the rebellious angels, but he felt that open hand closing. When that hand closed, he knew God will somehow use his gifts to deal with the enemy conclusively. He was ready when God wanted him to act.
“Well, my friends, what good news do you bring me?” Pollyon said as he and Malachy rounded the rock.
“Oh! Hallelujah. Thank God you are safe!” said Gabriel as he spun on them. “Where are the others?”
“On their missions?” said Malachy. She looked between the two of them. “Why do you look so worried?”
Gabriel recounted the Baal-Zebub conversation.
“Well, we can assume the others are safe since you two are with us,” said Michael. He sat down on the surface and cradled his head. “I don’t understand how and why angels can tell a non-truth. This is odd. How can God allow it?”
Michael glanced at Malachy. She had turned pale. “What’s the matter?” he said. “You should be relieved.”
“Well, what if the others were captured? What if their plan was to capture us all, but they only succeeded in capturing some of us?” said Malachy.
“What do you mean?” Michael glanced at the profundo that gurgled next to them.
Malachy sighed and sat down. “What Baal-Zebub told you about our capture almost occurred. We were attacked but managed to escape.”
Michael stood and surveyed their faces. “Do you think the others were not able to defend themselves?”
Nobody answered. Angels defending themselves has become such a foreign reaction.
For Michael, however, justice has become second-nature.
Michael lowered his head for a moment before he spoke. “I think Azarias can call on the Lord if he and Uriel were to get in trouble. I am more worried about Raffaela since she is alone.” He peered into each one’s eyes, looking for something—anything—to ease the sick dread roiling through him.
Then Pollyon turned and walked away…as if caught inside his thoughts. Michael turned to Gabriel and Malachy, but they just stared into nothingness.
A short time later, Pollyon returned, his face beaming with determination. “Let’s fly to Philadelphia and search for her.”
Michael shook his head. “I would agree, Pollyon, because I care for Raffaela, as does each of you, but do you think it is wise to undertake a journey before Azarias returns?”
“How do we know Azarias is going to return?” Pollyon snapped.
Michael stared at him, hearing the question and also the tone. How could they know? God had left them out of the communication. Where was Azarias? Did Baal-Zebub speak the truth in that regard?
Pollyon turned to the mesas and then rounded to face the others. “Raffaela might be in danger, and we are in the best position to save her.”
“I am not sure we should operate outside the Lord’s Spirit, even for the love of Raffaela.” Malachy cautioned. Her statement sickened her.
“But this is inside the Lord’s authorization,” Pollyon said, opening his hands. “The Lord sent Raffaela to Philadelphia, and we are only extending that permission to help Raffaela with the mission. If Raffaela is in trouble, we must act quickly.”
Where was Azarias? The angels all stared at each other. The Lord’s Spirit stopped blowing, leaving an eerie silence which consumed Michael. Dwelling outside the Lord’s Spirit has become too commonplace.
Gabriel shrugged his shoulders and stepped towards Pollyon. “Well, I’d rather be here than in Philadelphia. However, I see your reasoning. I believe it could not hurt to do a limited fact-finding mission to the district. We certainly are not furthering the Lord’s cause staying here and waiting.”
Malachy perked up. “We can use this opportunity to investigate Philadelphia and send Gabriel back to deliver the results to Azarias.”
The others nodded, but were they making a serious mistake? They could be walking into an ambush if Raffaela had been captured. The Septemviri needed Azarias and his direct connection to God. Without him, they floundered and could fall prey to the enemy. Should they prex précis? Well, a little journey can’t hurt.
Chapter 21
The traitor wandered into the canyon, unnoticed by the rebellious divisions. The soft canyon floor no longer glowed as a reflection from the Khasneh forest above. The darkened haze snaking among the rebellious angels stifled it.
Could the other angels see him? He breathed easier. The sweet smell of the Lord’s Spirit remained with the Septemviri and no longer irritated his nostrils. “Great One, why did you bring me here? The Septemviri may miss me.”
Angelic Wars- First Rebellion Page 20