Fall of Lucifer

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Fall of Lucifer Page 2

by Wendy Alec


  ‘Strategy, Gabriel – Michael’s strategy!’ he murmured.

  Michael and Gabriel galloped through rows of grand white columns, past vast crystal orangeries, and drew to a halt in front of the eastern wing of the palace. Michael’s chambers lay beyond the grand halls. There he swam each dusk in the deep, balmy springs that flowed through the palace quarters.

  Michael dismounted swiftly and strode up the gilded steps. He hesitated outside the heavy golden doors engraved with the emblem of the Royal House and, smiling, saluted to Lucifer on the balcony.

  Lucifer lifted his hand in acknowledgment, his blue eyes lighting up with pleasure, then walked back into his palace chambers.

  The vaulted ceilings of his inner sanctum soared a hundred feet. They were fashioned with exquisitely painted frescos – hues of azure and indigo, heliotrope, damson, and amethyst merging into magenta and vermilion. Spectacular panoramas covered the ornate carved ceilings of the chambers. Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel, in its yet future day, would be but a faded replica of Lucifer’s majestic trompe l’oeils.

  The enormous rubied palace windows were flung open, and the sounds of the angelic orations from the Mount of Assembly echoed throughout the chamber.

  Beneath the immense walls in the very centre of the chamber stood a huge, golden aeolian harp. All across the chamber lay musical instruments of every kind: lyres, lutes, psalteries, dulcimers, pipe organs, a collection of pipes and tabrets, fifes, flageolets, pan pipes, serpents, cornets, gleaming golden shofars of every description, chimes, and treble bells.

  Lucifer leaned over and picked up his viol and bow, which stood upright in pride of place near the harp. He thrummed the viol’s strings as he walked back out onto the balcony. With his nimble, jewelled fingers he drew the bow across the viol’s bridge, his eyes closed in rapture as he played, supreme master of his instrument, in adoration of Yehovah.

  Suddenly, a dazzling, pulsating light fell across Lucifer, blinding him and completely covering the pearl balcony. He dropped to his knees, the viol discarded on the marble floor, and shielded his eyes from the blazing light with his forearm.

  Sheer ecstasy crossed his countenance. His brothers forgotten, slowly he dropped his arm from his face, his eyes gradually attuning to the blinding, iridescent radiance that cascaded down on Lucifer in blazing, shimmering light streams. He raised his countenance, shaking his head from side to side, bathing his features in the prisms of white fire, recklessly drinking in the intense brilliance.

  Turning his face to the panorama of light before him, he bowed his head, lifting his arms wide to heaven, the strong, masculine hands spread wide in reverence.

  ‘Our Father . . . ’

  The light intensified dramatically.

  ‘Creator . . . Preserver . . . ’

  The shimmering increased tenfold, radiating from deep inside the vast range of the Golden Mountains.

  Outside the palace, the outer brilliance of the radiance emanated from thousands of translucent, angelic forms and white eagles, which blanketed the vast golden mountain and the translucent Crystal Palace that rose thousands of leagues beyond the white, swirling mists.

  Surrounding the palace’s perimeter was an immense, towering jasper wall, over one hundred feet wide and four hundred feet high, studded with clusters of diamonds, emeralds, jacinth, amethyst, jade, and lapis lazuli, all exuding their own dazzling light. Beyond the northern wall, almost completely obscured by the mountain, stretched the infinite onyx plains of the Mount of the North, the mount of angelic assembly, where a hundred million of the angelic host gathered in legions serving under the three great angelic regents: the archangels. The chief princes. Yehovah’s three mighty warriors and commanders: Michael, Gabriel and Lucifer.

  Rising above the western wall was the splendid Palace of Archangels where the three brothers dwelt in harmony and kinship – a triune brotherhood. Michael, the chief prince and holy commander-in-chief of Yehovah’s angelic hosts, filled with valour, honour, and might. Michael, the warrior. Gabriel, the revelator – the youngest prince, filled with wisdom and justice and soon to be inaugurated. And the eldest of the three brothers, most adored of heaven, Lucifer, the light-bearer, prince regent, and Yehovah’s viceroy. His throne was second only to the royal throne of Yehovah Himself. Lucifer, filled with wisdom and perfect in beauty. The shining one.

  On days when Lucifer climbed to the highest vantage point of his pearl balconies, he could distinguish the translucent Crystal Palace, carved out of one immense diamond and soaring above the mount where dwelt the twenty-four Ancient Ones. The twenty-four angelic monarchs, ancient governors of heaven and stewards of Yehovah’s holy mysteries – His holy elders, their white hair like spun silk falling to the floor, golden crowns upon their heads. Executors of His holy purposes.

  At the very summit of the palace three imposing crystal domes, the portals, surrounded a mammoth golden tower that peaked into seven spires, disappearing into the clouds above. Each portal appeared to have no ceiling, to extend straight out into the galaxies where living dwarf stars and moons radiated continually over each portal – almost an extension of the myriad solar systems radiating from above the palace.

  Soaring around the seven spires, near their peaks, were myriads of white eagles, their wingspans reaching over twenty feet. Their feet and beaks appeared to be dipped in pure gold – Yehovah’s messengers.

  To the east of the spires stood a vast tower, a battlement completely exposed to the heavens: the Tower of Winds. In its centre stood a large golden table surrounded by eight golden thrones where the angelic zephyrs of wisdom and revelation raged in eternal cyclones, blowing down their wisdom upon the Ancient Ones as they met in the councils of heaven. One hundred enormous white owls perched on the battlements.

  Thunder and electric-blue lightning emanated from the vast golden tower, which was itself surrounded by magnificent rolling gardens that seemed to hang from infinity thousands of leagues above the mountain as if held by an invisible force – the eastern Gardens of Eden where Yehovah walked in the cool of the day.

  The monumental Waterfalls of Nectar thundered a hundred leagues down, reflecting the changing rainbow hues of Eden’s horizon. Lined by the great, ancient willows, its hallowed streams flowed north, south, east, and west out of the lush, tropical celestial gardens, watering the First Heaven. Unicorns and oryx grazed in the fields of Eden, while porpoises and sea urchins frolicked in the deep pools beneath the falls. Birds of paradise, rainbow-hued flamingos, and blue griffins swooped across the hot springs. Giant indigo swans and their cygnets floated downstream towards the crystal sea.

  In the farthest corner of the hanging gardens stood two massive trees, their fruit glistening gold in the lightning, almost wholly enveloped by swirling white mists. To the north of the two trees a colossal golden, ruby-encrusted door, ablaze with light, was embedded into the jacinth walls of the tower – the entrance to the throne room.

  It was here that the lightning and the roaring appeared to have their origin. And it was here where dwelt the One who was light itself and from whom all light received its source. The One before whom all heavens and galaxies fled. The One before whom all heaven fell prostrate, as though dead, in the very majesty and awe of Him. The One whose hair and head were white like snow from the very radiance of His glory, whose eyes flashed like flames of living fire with the brilliance of His multitude of discernments and great and infinitely tender compassions. The One before whom all angelic princes and kings threw down their golden crowns in awe and wonder.

  For His beauty was indescribable, and to those few who had ever looked upon His face – they could not but hear His name and weep. Their faces burned radiant, and they wept unceasingly with the awe and the wonder of it for His tender mercies and compassions were unfathomable.

  And so, as One, He dwelt in the throne room.

  And as Three.

  For they were indivisible.

  And they were indissoluble.

  And so they dwel
t as a great and sacred mystery.

  Of such great and wondrous secrets the twenty-four elders, the ancient angelic monarchs, were stewards.

  Lucifer inhaled deeply. A deep and palpable peace crossed his features.

  ‘Yehovah,’ he uttered.

  With his great strength, Michael pushed open the massive golden doors of Lucifer’s chambers. He strode across the gleaming sapphire floors, flinging his cloak onto one of the enormous golden thrones, and then walked through the jewelled columns and out through the balcony doors. He bowed deeply in reverence to Lucifer.

  ‘Chief Prince Lucifer, filled with wisdom and perfect in beauty.’

  Lucifer raised his head slowly to Michael. A magnificent smile lit his features. ‘Michael, my brother . . . ’

  Michael clasped Lucifer’s neck.

  ‘Young Gabriel fell afoul of your finer tactics, I believe!’

  They embraced with great affection, then again bowed low to each other in reverence.

  Gabriel burst out onto the balcony. His grey eyes gleamed with the exhilaration of the race. He bowed reverently to Lucifer, then mockingly to Michael.

  The three statuesque angelic princes stood together: blinding, dazzling figures, nine feet in height, sinewed and bronzed in their white robes. Michael’s fierce, intelligent green eyes blazed out of the chiselled, noble face, softened only by the incongruous dimples that accompanied his rare but highly infectious laughter. His gleaming flaxen hair was tied back with emeralds and gold in one thick braid. The younger Gabriel stood next to him, lithe and aesthetic in appearance. His beautiful features were flawless, almost pretty: the perfectly carved cheekbones; the long, fine platinum locks; the regal heart-shaped countenance. The brothers’ wings were of a spirit-body matter, visible only at certain angles, where they gave the appearance of millions of atoms radiating at the speed of light.

  ‘Gabriel.’ Lucifer strode towards him, kissing him on both cheeks. ‘Beloved Gabriel, a great day dawns for you.’ He stepped back and surveyed him, an elder brother’s pride glinting in his piercing sapphire eyes. ‘Not many moons hence you shall join your brother and me in rank in the service of our Father. This is a great honour. Are you ready to receive this responsibility?’

  Gabriel looked from Michael’s clear green eyes into Lucifer’s generous sapphire gaze.

  ‘Gabriel,’ Lucifer whispered passionately, clasping his brother’s face in his hands, ‘the responsibility . . . one-third of the angelic host, wholly at your command. Are you ready to handle the mantle of power, the weight of accountability?’ He clasped Gabriel’s shoulder protectively.

  Gabriel looked straight into Lucifer’s eyes without fear or guile. ‘I am,’ he answered softly.

  ‘It is His will you must always serve, not your will. It is His will that must be done. His kingdom come,’ said Michael, nodding resolutely. ‘He is to be unequivocally worshipped and adored, to be obeyed.’

  Lucifer nodded. ‘Humility will be your salvation, Gabriel – humility and service to Him who is worthy of all worship.’ Lucifer wiped a solitary tear from his eye with the back of his bronzed hand. ‘Worthy of all honour, of all adoration.’

  He gave Gabriel his brilliant smile, then clapped his hands, gesturing towards an enormous object covered in gold cloth, just inside the doorway. ‘I have a gift for my beloved brother.’

  Gabriel eagerly unwrapped the gold muslin from around the huge frame.

  ‘To celebrate your inauguration,’ Lucifer said.

  As the muslin fell to the marble floor, Gabriel gasped. Before him was an exquisite painting depicting himself before the Seat of Kings at his inauguration.

  ‘Ah, my cherished brother approves of my gift!’ Lucifer’s sapphire eyes lit up in pleasure.

  Gabriel swung around to him. ‘Why, it is truly exceptional, Lucifer!’ he exclaimed. ‘You are surely the most generous of brothers!’

  Lucifer gestured up at the hundred-foot ceilings with their ornate, magnificently painted frescos. ‘Your collection will soon rival my own!’

  ‘Generous indeed!’ Michael slapped Lucifer hard on the back. ‘All I received was an elder brother’s lecture!’

  Lucifer laughed. ‘You, my dear, pragmatic Michael, showed absolutely no appreciation for the finer aesthetics of life. Unlike our Gabriel.’ Lucifer shook his head, beckoning Gabriel nearer. He dropped his voice to a roguish whisper: ‘The last painting I gave him – most magnificent, may I add – I discovered a hundred moons later behind Jether’s closet door, with the rest of his . . . ’ He turned to fix Michael with an affectionate look. ‘ . . . collection.’

  ‘You create mischief, Lucifer!’ Michael wiped away tears of mirth. A tall angel with a gentle countenance and dark hair tied back in a silvered braid walked through the door, bowing deeply before the brothers, then turning and bowing again to Lucifer.

  Lucifer nodded and smiled. ‘Asmodeus.’

  Lucifer noted the parchment missive, sealed with Yehovah’s golden seal, in Asmodeus’s hand and immediately held out his hand.

  Asmodeus bowed once more. He spoke respectfully, quietly. ‘The missive for His Excellency, Chief Prince Lucifer – the light-bearer. From Yehovah – Great King of the universes.’

  Lucifer tore open the missive with the blade-edge of his golden cinquedea and studied the contents. ‘He summons me . . . ’ His mouth moved in wonder.

  Asmodeus bowed again. ‘Your stallion is prepared, Your Excellency.’

  * * *

  Lucifer tore across the vast golden meadows of the eastern plains of Eden astride his magnificent black stallion, his raven locks flying in the zephyrs, his imperial figure dwarfed by the sheer majesty of the undulating rainbow horizons above him.

  Each time he entered Eden was always as the first for him.

  He raced across the golden bulrush meadows and on through the lush rain forests, the heavy elixir-laden undergrowth drenching him as he rode. He threw his head back in exhilaration.

  Two enormous pearl gates towered far in the distance – the entrance to Yehovah’s Hanging Gardens of Eden. Half a mile beyond the gates thundered the great Waters of Eden that literally dropped a full mile down into the Eternal Fountains. Lucifer pulled on his stallion’s reins as they galloped across the meadows, his eyes locked on the incredible vista before him.

  Massive curtains of flickering light shafts literally danced across the horizon, all the hues of the rainbow collected like some immense swirling celestial aurora. Lucifer watched in wonder as the shafts of light changed from lilac to aquamarine to vermilion. With a deft pull on the reins, Lucifer urged his stallion to leap. They soared a thousand feet into the heavens, defying gravity, and plunged into the centre of the aurora’s spinning vortex.

  His senses were utterly consumed by the colossal wall of roaring light and sound that seemed to invade every fibre of his body. With each scorching shaft it seemed that every atom of his being was newly invigorated as the glowing purity coursed through him.

  Instantaneously, he found himself on the far side of the chasm at the entrance to Eden. Lucifer stared down in wonder from the gates of the hanging gardens at the sheer drop of the never-ending chasm beneath him.

  Two cherubim, ten feet in height, clothed with fires and lightning bowed low before him, their four outstretched wingtips touching each other.

  ‘Prince Regent Lucifer of the Royal House of Yehovah – the light-bearer. The Great King of Heaven awaits you,’ they addressed him in unison.

  The second cherub took Lucifer’s stallion while the first ushered him through a second much smaller arbour-like pearl gate into the thick, swirling white mists.

  An incredible floral aroma permeated his senses as they walked past knee-high gladioli and frangipani, beds of pale blue flowers that looked almost like tulips except for the long crystal stamens in their centre. Past climbing roses of every hue and imagination. Past intricately carved pearl and crystal benches and arbours.

  They reached a second gate, different from the previous
ones. It was higher – almost twelve feet high and three feet in breadth, carved of solid gold and embedded with emeralds and diamonds set in a vast jacinth wall that surrounded the entrance to the inner sanctum of Eden.

  As Lucifer approached the gate, he fell to his knees. Two majestic, six-winged seraphim stood in front of the gate, their faces aflame with living, burning fires. They bowed low to Lucifer, two wings covering their face and two their feet.

  Lucifer rose, his countenance literally blazing with a transcendent brightness. Six magnificent white iridescent wings, eight feet wide, which were previously not noticeable on his being, now became fully visible. He hovered in midair, suspended by two of the immense wings.

  ‘I, Lucifer, son of the morning, declare myself servant to the Most High God.’ He prostrated himself, covering his feet with two wings.

  ‘We welcome you, Chief Prince Lucifer – highest of seraphim, the light-bearer!’ The seraphim’s voices were intertwined with delicate chimes and musical instruments that made melody as they spoke. ‘Our King awaits your presence.’ The seraphim bowed once more in obeisance, then moved aside.

  Lucifer rose, his hands trembling, and took hold of the large golden latch. Immediately his palms were drenched in a myrrh-like substance that ran down over his forearms. His breathing rapid, he pushed the gate open and entered.

  Standing in the farthest corner of the garden under the two trees with their golden fruit, His back to Lucifer and only dimly visible through the rising mists, was a tall figure clothed in shining white garments. His gleaming hair seemed dark, almost raven, falling down His back, but as the mists rose and fell it seemed to change in hues to auburn and then to finely spun gold.

  Slowly the figure turned.

  Lucifer fell to his knees. He covered his face from the blazing white light emanating from the flames covering the figure’s countenance.

  Christos walked towards Lucifer until He stopped directly in front of him. Gradually, the white mists faded. Lucifer stared, entranced, at the feet before him. They glowed as burnished bronze refined in fire. Lucifer’s gaze travelled upward from the hem of His white silk robe to the girdle of gold around His breast.

 

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