Of Kings and Demons

by Han, George

  “What is he doing?” Walter asked.

  “Summoning his army,” Jin replied

  Walter was speechless.

  As Eberhard busy, there was a silence that seemed to last for ages. The trees swayed with intensity and a cacophony of sounds came from the woods behind the gargoyle.

  Then they came. Like flock of birds, an intimidating horde of winged beings emerged from the woods and seemed to skid over on the coattails of the winds like parasites. It was a platoon of gargoyles, each of them a smaller clone of Eberhard. Their siren-like shrieks pierced the air like arrows. Their life-robbing demeanour brought speechless gawks to the agents, one of whom passed out upon seeing the demons.

  Jin swiftly rode to and picked up a bewildered Walter Johnson. The move alarmed the security agents so much that they directed their pistols on Jin.

  “He is a … friendly,” Walter said and the agents shifted their attention to the gargoyles.

  “Governor, we have to go,” Jin said.

  “What about them?” Walter asked, nodding towards the gargoyles.

  Jin did not reply. He simply nudged his horse away from the agents.

  “My wife …” Walter remembered and began to cry.

  “Eberhard will not hurt them. He came for you,” Jin explained. “Moreover, the Governor’s Mansion has been blessed and protected by a perimeter of Holy Essence.”

  “Holy what?” Walter asked.

  To which Jin simply winked and sped off. Eberhard followed with his minions in diligent pursuit.

  “Is running away our only option?” Walter shouted. “Can’t we fight?”

  Jin was silent.

  “Did you hear me? Should we not turn around and fight? I am not used to running away.”

  Jin smiled. “The avoidance of a fight requires the same wisdom that which you need to decide when and what to fight. That is the way of a King of Men.”

  Walter remained silent. His heart pounded like galloping steeds as Eberhard’s shriek seemed just yards away.

  Calmly Jin raised his bow, bent his head backwards, and twanged the strings. Immediately arrows of bright energy flew towards the gargoyles and downed a handful. The attack earned an ugly roar from Eberhard.

  Jin swiftly steered his horse northward, towards the woods. When they were along the edge of the shrubbery, he brought his steed to a halt. Jin wheeled around to face the coming onslaught.

  “You think this is a good idea?” Walter asked.

  Jin did not reply. Eberhard and his gargoyles were heading right towards them like a pack of ravenous wolves.

  “You have a weapon I could use?” Walter asked.

  “Use your heart, Governor.”

  “I just hate moments like these.” Walter clenched his fists. “And …”

  A sudden explosion knocked Walter’s senses into pieces. From the darkness of the woods, projectiles flew into the group of gargoyles, which fell like flies sprayed with repellant. Then a huge net that gleamed as if it were weaved from threads of gold fell over the surviving creatures and pinned them to the ground.

  Walter punched the air in triumph. “You planned this?”

  Jin’s eyes, firm and unwavering, surveyed the scene as figures emerged from behind the trees and surrounded the fallen enemies. One of them flashed a thumb, which Jin acknowledged. It was the leader of the entourage, Ordo of Tutor of Fides, senior Defender, Father Michael Bellator.

  The priest unleashed streams of fluid onto the captured gargoyles which unleashed tormenting shrills. In no time, the Demons had dissolved into nothingness, with an accompanying odor drifting through the air.

  Eberhard, however, was an opponent of an entirely different class. Dissolution from holy water was not an option of that he would entertain. Fists clenched, he roared like an angry tiger, and before men from the Ordo could focus their attention on him, the gargoyle chieftain tore the net apart as if it were paper and flocked to the skies, his wings in full stretch. The air draught from his wings threw members of the Ordo off balance but Thomas Bellator stood steadfast, shoulders squared and weapon ready. Then Eberhard disappeared.

  “It is gone,” Walter said, a tone of disappointment lacing his voice.

  “Treacherous creature. He will be back,” Father Bellator said as he approached Walter Johnson.

  Jin nodded. “We will worry when he is back.”

  The Angel dismounted and helped the governor to his feet. “They will be back, Governor.”

  Walter struggled to catch his breath following the hour of whirlwind madness. “Can someone tell me what is going on here?”

  Jin, cool as Arctic ice, spoke. “They came for you, Governor.”

  Walter struggled for words. “They looked like they came from a studio set. But they are real, very real. They killed my security detail.”

  “I assure you they are not a product of your imagination,” Jin said and pointed to the deep imprints on the ground made by Eberhard’s clawed feet. “Real.”

  “What are they?”

  “They belong to a species that have hunted your race and your ancestors since thousands of years ago. Look to your history and images of them, first in caves, then in parchment, and later in the pyramids, and finally in the churches aplenty. You think the creator of these art forms thought of them from naught?”

  Walter muttered, “They are real.”

  “For centuries they have hunted the leaders of mankind, people who are called the Kings, and fought the Angels.”

  “Kings? A war between Angels and Demons?”

  Jin nodded. “Kings of Men are the chosen people, God’s anointed representative mandated to lead the human race, to helm the civilization. You are one of the chosen ones, Walter.”

  Walter was dumbfounded. “Please carry on.”

  “What you saw just now are soldiers of the Devil, armies from the dark side and minions of Lucifer. Demons, we call them. They were out to annihilate all Kings and enslave humans. They were responsible for the attacks on human civilization in the last two days.”

  Walter’s forehead crumpled into a nasty frown. “And I thought our only enemies are the Russians and terrorists …” Walter quipped

  Jin smiled.

  Walter scanned Jin. “You risked your life for me. I am grateful. Who are you?”

  Jin smiled and flexed his biceps. A blinding flash of blinding light occurred and a pair of wings, white and saintly, sprang to their full length. Walter and entourage shielded their eyes and Jin spoke.

  “I am your Guardian Angel, Walter Edmund Johnson.”

  Walter’s eyes squinted into slits of light as he kept silent.

  Jin continued.

  “Your knowledge of your future is forbidden. Revelation today is made under exceptional circumstances. Every man’s destiny is a divine secret. By being so, the unfolding is spontaneous and a product of the free will of man and king.

  “Why the attack?”

  Jin bit his lips “I wished I had the answer.”

  “Is my death is imminent?”

  ”Your future is still in your own hands,” Jin said

  “Pray I find the strength to stomach all these.”

  Jin nodded and patted Walter on his shoulder. “You are not alone.”

  Chapter 21

  Conversation with an Angel

  Maganus gathered the siblings by the fire, conscious of their shivering fear from their close encounter with death, despite their controlled exterior. The food and drinks that he had brought them were barely touched. As he lit his pipe, he stroked his beard. “Do not let fear destroy your taste buds. Food is one joy of being a human.”

  Mathew put on a faint smile, picked up a food, nibbled but quickly put down the remainder.

  “I am sorry. I am not in the mood to eat.”

  Maganus eyed the bruises on the arm and cut at the lips

  “It has been a tough journey?”

  Mathew nodded, speechless and suddenly broke down. His sister grabbed his hands and they shared a moment
.

  Maganus patted Mathew on his head.

  “It will be fine. I am here.”

  Mathew nodded and dried his cheeks “Fine? I lost my grandparents in the last 6 hours…”

  Maganus stroke his beard and listened with a thoughtful expression.

  Mathew shook his head “We were on our way to see our sick father. My grandmother received a call from the hospital that his situation is critical. We got lost and when we stopped over at a junction for a break, those strange beings ambushed us…we”

  Mathew paused, a difficult expression killed them and we had to seek refuge in the woods.”

  “They were driven into the forests. The Demons, all forms of it, familiars, trolls and globins hunted them.”

  Father Bellator stood up and continued the story.

  “I found them at the shrubbery fifteen minutes trek from here. Bloodied and injured and so brought them here.”

  “Glad you came.” It was Sarah Springs who looked worn-out but carried a smile.

  “Glad I found you in time.” Bellator remarked with a smile.

  “Then Count Raum arrived?” Maganus remarked dryly.

  “Lord Maganus, he came just minutes before you did. He pounded the façade with his dark powers. I was at wits’ end, frankly.” Bellator sighed as the swell on his cheeks looked more pronounced under the illumination of the bonfire

  “You came like the rain after a drought.”

  “Giving flattery is as much a sin as receiving it but I have to admit I came in time. God’s will.” Maganus murmured as he looked to the sky.

  After saying his prayers, he shifted himself over to Mathew and Sarah. He placed his fleshy palms on their shoulders and patted

  “It was darkness no doubt. I will say a prayer for your dead grandparents.”

  Mathew was jaded, ashen cheeks and wounded chin. He spoke with a wariness that went beyond his age.

  “You know something? We did not have time to retrieve their corpse. I was worried for my sister. We just ran. Was I a coward?”

  Maganus shook his head “You were a hero to keep Sarah alive.”

  “Am I ?”

  “Yes you were. Courage as in all kinglings.”

  “Kinglings?”

  “The young who will be King of Men, the lineage of leaders that Angels were tasked to protect.”

  “You must have been mistaken. I have been ordinary all my life.”

  Maganus chuckled, his laughter ringing into the chill of the evening.

  “Don’t they all say the same thing when we revealed ourselves to them?”

  “Father Bellator mentioned there is a war between Angels and Demons?”

  Maganus nodded. “It was a tussle that dated back to the first homo sapiens. The Demons aimed to claim the arena of Earth for themselves and we, the Angels, are your allies in this battle. Our battles formed what you call history. All historical events of significance are a manifestation of that battle between good and evil.”

  Maganus lit his pipe and took a deep inhale before continuing.

  “There are bloodlines of the Kings of Men, leaders of your civilization, anointed by God himself and protected by His soldiers, the Angels. These bloodlines have sprouted legions of able men and women who grew to be leaders of your civilization. In politics, military, economic, and cultural fields, these leaders have charted the growth of human civilization for last few thousands of years. Lord Lucifer, plans to control this lineage for his selfish purpose. He wants to defeat God in his enterprise.”

  He puffed on his pipe before continuing his tale.

  “That started a race to control the minds and hearts of men. These Demons began a systematic targeting and seduction, and when that fails, extermination of the leaders of mankind. Your race was on the verge of extinction until the Guardian Angels, were dispatched to protect and guide these Kings of Men and the kinglings, the young who will be Kings one day.”

  Maganus explained with patience.

  “Their identities were hidden from the Demons as we guide and groom them. We protect them, in invisibility, appearing only in times of severe danger. Unfailingly, we stand by these kinglings until they are ready to take their place as the anointed leaders of their race.”

  Maganus squinted his eyes in thoughtful narration “This epic war involved some of the most famous names involved. You know the successful mandates—Charlemagne, Washington, Lincoln. There were certainly some painful episodes when we lost some Kings to the Demons.”

  “What happened then?” Sarah asked.

  “The Demons succeeded and there were much bloodshed, betrayal and destruction. History was altered. You will never know who the fallen Kings are because they never achieve prominence but remember the dark ages, the Hundred Years wars, the world wars and the cold war.”

  “And now this battle comes to me and my family. Why?” Mathew interrupted.

  “This is because you and your sister are part of the kinglings, Mathew.”

  Magnus’s authoritative voice resonated through the woods like a caressing wave and drowned the fires of agitation in Mathew. Maganus inhaled deeply as he recollected the dialogue he had with Gwyneth, before they parted, during which she shared the story about the Springs’ genealogy. They were her mandate and the full details of their future were never fully revealed to her. She was to watch, care, and guide the siblings until the moment for the truth was near.

  “I am sorry to inform you that this is your war. I will be patient. These facts never need to be told to you. Ironically, the Demons were the catalysts that accelerated your path to the truth. This step, in a long journey comes to all great leaders—from Alexander to Genghis Khan to George Washington. Every leader has to take this journey.”

  The siblings were silent.

  Mathew drew Sarah closer. “My father’s illness? Does the Demons has to do with it?”

  “Maybe. Your father’s illness was a trick created by the Demons through a very wicked manipulation of the dark powers, which can distort the life essence of a human being. Mathew, it was a bait. ”

  Maganus refilled his pipe before continuing. “This is war between the two sides. Imagine God and Satan is wrestling on a chessboard in which every move will have far and deep impact for the entire human civilization. Individuals, Kings of Men, are God’s soldiers. With no disrespect to these leaders but chess pieces do not always understand the significance of every move, and that ignorance does not diminish the significance of their presence in the entire chess game. They are simply unaware. God decides they do not need to know.”

  “I guess I am now in the ‘need-to-know’ phase.” Mathew said.

  “Mathew, the knowledge may be too much for you now and I pray you have the strength to accept it.”

  In contrast to Mathew’s broody look, Sarah was alert and chirpy.

  “Can you bring our grandparents back to life? You are an angel.”

  Maganus paused before shaking his head

  “Resurrection, I am afraid is not a gift I have.”

  Sarah dropped her head.

  “It is alright then.”

  She shook off her disappointment

  Maganus felt he had administered too heavy of a dose of truth. He dug into his bag and extracted a flute.

  “Some music to mellow the tension?” Maganus smiled as he begun to play a mellifluous melody that flowed like silk into the quiet of the night.

  Sarah exclaimed suddenly.

  “What is it?” A started Mathew asked as his hands tightened on Sarah’s.

  Sarah pointed. “Look.”

  Emerging from the woods, streams of fireflies flowed and formed a halo over the congregation, reverberating to the melody as Maganus tapped his foot in merriment. As easy he had summoned them, he sent them dissipating into the woods with a tap of his flute.

  “Wonderful. Thank you,” Sarah giggled her cheeks bright as the apricots in spring.

  ”I am glad you enjoyed it,” Maganus said. He fondled his flute. “I am sorry th
e revelation has arrived at such a difficult moment. Circumstances are unusual and were very much forced upon us. My eloquence also failed me.” Maganus smiled. “I hope I have made amends, children.”

  “Maganus, it is not your fault” Mathew said.

  “Trust me, the next few days will provide you with the answers you crave.”

  “Can you do something else for me?” Sarah asked.

  Maganus laughed. “I will try my best.”

  “Can you fly?” Sarah continued. “Can you show me?”

  Maganus was stumped but casually nodded.

  “When the time is ripe, you shall see.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by an uptight Father Bellator.

  “The rim of darkness is growing—like a black loop around a chicken neck, tightening with each passing moment.” The warrior-priest remarked with a sweeping gesture over the landscape.

  Maganus look over and saw a slight fog, which looked like a gloomy veil of evil, drifting through the woods.

  “The presentia of obscurum is strong,” Father Bellator added and true to his words, all day the sunlight was meek and its warmth never truly felt.

  Father Thomas was holding a pair of odd-shaped rims.

  “What is that?”

  “This is the Isaac Spectacles, named after the intrepid scientist Sir Isaac Newton.”

  Mathew studied the antique spectacles which had wooden frames that were imbued with flowery carvings. The attractive design belied the history of the odd-looking spectacles, which dated back to the fifteenth century.

  “This piece of relic was discovered by Isaac Newton when he was Don at Oxford University in a corner of the library. Very little was known of the origin, but it was taught that the spectacles were once touched by the great Archangel Michael”

  “What does it do?”

  “It gives mortals, and non-saints like us, the powers to gauge the presence of the holy essence, or the existence of a Demon in open spaces.” Bellator commented and then urged Mathew to put them on. He obliged but quickly took them off again.

  “What is it, Mathew?” his sister asked.

  “I saw all kinds of colour – the sky is blue, forest is green but all else is brimming red.”

  “Red represents the presence of demons.” Maganus commented.