Legacy of the Defender (The Defender Series Book 1)
Page 22
This was the third day of my hiding like a fugitive. My instructions were to wait here and, under no circumstances, leave the area. So it felt like hiding out or hiding from something. I was never much for slinking around. It was hard to not feel kind of dirty, like I was up to something, especially here. A foul stench hung in the air that I could not quite identify yet.
The soil was dark brown to red in places and a murky purple color in other areas. Even the rocks had streaks from the taint that was millions of years old and infected the stones. I had smelled foul odors before and this was a close second to offend my nostrils. All of it smelled almost like...I paused. I almost had it, but then the thought escaped me. My mind began to run through all the smells I had experienced in the last few years. No familiar smell registered. It felt it was coming out my pores and had fully permeated my nose and lungs.
My minded drifted back.
It was hard to imagine what had happened to me in the last few weeks. Upon waking up, I was staring into the face of my teacher, only it was not really Malnuras. It was another of the faces of God. He was one of millions that had a different embodiment. Each managed the aspects of Heaven. Feeding the people, listening to them, and granting audience with God occasionally were among their tasks. It was strange to think people here ate since they were just a soul. I guess the desire to feast did not fade even with a perfect body that would never get sick or die. Daemon hordes attacking Heaven to consume your soul was not covered by that clause.
The story of the after is when a soul dies they go to be with God in Heaven if they followed the tenants of that faith. What they did not know was you could choose where to go or live, but your soul had to be manifested in a somewhat of a physical form. A daemon could hurt you still, and then consume your essence, leaving you just a husk. You would not exist anymore. In God’s plan, he did not account for Heaven being under siege for thousands of years. It was not a short sight on his all-knowing ability. Lucifer was sneaky and caught him off guard. Death is what allows souls to leave Earth when they die, and the blood of your body is what activates the portal to allow your soul to go to him. I had to chuckle that God was so busy maintaining protection of his occupants that he had to turn his back on everywhere else. Not many prayers found his ears nor did help from On High come around much.
So to open my eyes and see another version of God standing over me was unsettling and unexpected. Sure, he had all of Malnuras’s features and even his memories, but the voice was different enough but still the same. The mannerisms slightly changed. Yet, it was not my teacher; and to think that I had been living with part God himself for many years. He never told me anything that would have led me to even see that. It was hard to not feel lied to, but I understood that he had to keep it secret. If word got out that he was God, any time we visited a town outside the walls would raise questions. People who had chosen to live outside the city of Heaven would have no real memory of it. They lived in a place of their choosing. Not many wanted to leave the afterlife.
They did not get visits from any of God's faces.
Yet some held onto the idea of life and chose to exist outside of Heaven’s walls. Villages and cities were all over the realm; none within several thousand miles of Heaven. It was doubtful that the horde knew they were there until recently. The city of Heaven held the attention of the horde for several thousand years, until now. That last village was proof. The horde consumed them all. A moment of remembrance was all that I could afford right now.
Those who tended to my wounds mentioned that the walls were safe and the shield was back at full strength. They called me the "Savior of Heaven" when greeting me. Everyone knew who I was and so many people wanted to shake my hand or hug me. This was a utopian society without a care in the world, until they saw it was vulnerable. Their underlying fears were now all over their faces, with a good reason to feel this way. They did not feel safe. It would take some time to restore.
It was strange to me that the man escorting me around had no name. They called him Father. His face was known everywhere as the face of God. I wanted to call him Malnuras, but the need to do so went away in the first few days. He was also very scholarly.
He spent many hours explaining to me how things operated in Heaven. God’s power provided everything for the people. They did not have to work for food; someone provided for those who felt the need to or simply enjoyed the experience. The city did not have any waste, as the food eaten looked like food but was really made of energy that nourished the spirit. Anything the mind could desire was available. You could eat and never get fat.
My food was organic, for there were thousands of people that had their own gardens and grew food for the simple pleasure of watching life grow. I needed real nourishment. Someone slaughter several cows in my honor. There was plenty of meat at every meal. My strength returned in time. It was tasty.
One question played on my mind that I did not know how to address. After teleporting back to the city, while my consciousness faded, the words, “My son has surpassed his father,” played over and over. Confusion was prevalent. Mathias’s voice spoke in reference to me. The statement made no sense unless he thought of me as his son after training under him for many years. However, several times there had been a strange occurrence. Several conversations I shared with him happened as if he had been there with me during a potentially failing moment. A conversation I heard only in my head.
Had I actually been communicating with him? Was there a telepathic link with my master? Was he indeed my father? The man my mother claimed to be my father left when I was barely crawling, so my memory of him did not exist. They chose me for this position because of my compassion and the desire to protect life. Was there more to it?
I pondered this for days when Mathias came to visit me. He had a guest with him. The look on my face must have been priceless to find myself face to face with the Sasquatch. It or he did not say much but did give me a nod. It was awkward to me to be as tall as he was. When I shook his hand, I heard something in my head.
“You will replace me when you return.”
It almost was not a voice, but a feeling coming across between us accompanied by a very male presence. I nodded and he stepped and started to shimmer from sight. The hope of more conversation degraded with a look. He was not much of a conversationalist. Several of the sessions at the campfire had shown him teaching the people, but perhaps that instruction was very rudimentary or basic. I blinked. He was gone.
So that is what that looks like.
I stood silently. My eyes locked on my master. He smiled at me for a slight moment and there was a proud look on his face. To my surprise, he took a knee and bowed.
“Hail to the savior of Heaven,” his words came rather stoic and firm.
“Master stand up, please,” I urged.
He rose up gracefully and bowed.
“Why the formalities and titles? You know I did what I was trained to do.”
“No, you are wrong. We designed your training to protect Earth…not to save Heaven. Yet you managed to do both, bringing honor to yourself…and to your family.”
“Master, what do you mean my family?” I asked, feeling hesitant and confused.
“You are Nathanael’s son.”
“Are you Nathanael?”
“I am.”
My stomach knotted. Emotion welled up behind my eyes.
“Why do I address you as Mathias?” I stammered, fighting back disbelief.
“My given name is “Gift of God.” You may know it as Matthew in your world. The pronunciation in your tongue would be “Mataeson” when God created me. When I earned my name and became Yahweh’s General in charge of the city’s defenses, my name changed to Nathanael and Mataeson became my surname. God allowed me to marry, giving me the hope of having offspring to give my name. I became an Archangel. I married another angel, Millennia ago, and stayed with her for hundreds of years. When she died, I mourned for a hundred more…before allowing myself the chance
to take a mate again.”
“So how did you end up with my mother, and why was I left with her to be raised in Hell?” I felt my voice crack.
“I decided to look for a human wife since the city was not under immediate threat. I started spending more time on Earth. Eighty three years later, I met your mother. The simplicity of attraction won. I fell in love with her and married her according to Earth's tradition. We had a child born of our love. You started to show angelic tendencies right away. This scared your mother, and I owed her an explanation.”
“Once a child is created, a decision has to be made for that child to be human, living in one world, or Nephilim, a resident of both worlds. Your mother, when she learned who I was, could not handle the reality of it and chose to have her memory erased. Sadly, this process can cause severe depression. Your mother chose to drink heavily to deal with it and married your stepfather who mistreated you. For this, I am sorry.”
He lowered his head.
My thoughts floored me. Here was my actual father. My mother had never been very forth coming regarding anything, other than he left months after my birth. He was an Archangel in charge of the city’s defenses. The awe factor went off the scale, and I found myself embracing him tightly.
My father is an Archangel!
For several moments we embraced. Tears openly flowed. I did not care. This was more joyous than any victory. All the brutal lessons taught to me by my real father and the days I cursed under my breath meant nothing. His lessons had made me the warrior I am, and according to his own words, I had surpassed even his skills.
“I wish we had more time, my son, but something requires your attention. I have written instructions on this scroll. All of the details are there. Your training is over. It is time to join the war and fulfill your role,” he said, smiling and putting his hand on my shoulder.
"That day in the village when I told you my name...You knew didn't you?” I said.
"Yes. Tathlyn is the name I gave you as a child. I had hoped it would come to you...and it did."
Warmth hugged me like a blanket.
“I will do as you ask, Father.” I smiled. It was nice to hear he had faith in my abilities. He turned and began to walk away when he stopped and turned back.
“So now that you know who your teacher really was, had you not retrieved all of him, the shield would not have been able to heal...as it is the Father’s sheer will alone that keeps the horde out. I do not know if you realize how close we came to losing the city. That would have caused a cataclysm to the universe.”
“What do you mean, Father? Would Heaven have been destroyed?”
“Not just Heaven. The Heavenly Father would have started everything over.”
“Oh…” It was all I could manage to say as my mind failed to wrap around his words. Nathanael walked away. I was sad at seeing my father go, but a strange peace came over me. Somehow, things made perfect sense.
I got to meet two important people today.
I closed the door and went back inside. I smiled knowing my father was proud.
Familiar voices whispered in the recesses of my mind. They spoke amongst themselves as if trying not to disturb me. My blades carried on a conversation in hushed tones. I sat and listened for a bit while arranging my thoughts and feelings about the recent events. A reference caught my attention. The need to interrupt the topic was too strong.
"So the two of you knew about my father and you kept it a secret?"
"It is true,” they responded. "Nathanael has kept the two of us around for quite some time. We served under him."
"Wait...You served under him? What do you mean?” I asked.
"We are the souls of angels, fallen in battle. We chose to continue our service for the greater good by occupying and blending with weapons to increase their power. This honor bestows upon an Archangel added power. We did not know whom we would bond with when the time came. It gave us both great pleasure and has been an honor to serve you."
A long pause ensued
"What are your names?” I asked. “And I do not mean righteous fury.”
"Sabathiel," the left hand said. "Communicating and creating divine light was my station. Divine light is what the City of Heaven uses to defend its walls. I create the flames that engulf your weapons when your energy is fully charged. That energy converted to divine light. By destroying me, another angel would have to be trained to replace me before any more divine light weapons could be created to defend the city."
I was stunned. The honor given to me was greater than I could have imagined.
"Radueriel," the right hand responded. "I use Heavenly Father’s divine energy to create new angels. I fell before the invasion of Heaven. Father was in the process of creating another to replace me before hell breached the realm of Heaven and the assault on the city began. Father had to turn his attention to defending the city."
"Our divine sparks were given a chance to continue to serve. Usually, this was one of the Archangels. Then you came along, proving to be worthy and surpassing all expectations. God granted the honor to use us in the creation of your weapons to Nathanael. Your weapons were crafted soon after your arrival and stored in a vault, waiting for you to be ready."
"You honor me by sharing this," I said, enamored by their story.
"You may call us Saba and Radu for short should you need to address us individually. We felt it was time to tell you but were unsure of the timing."
"You chose well, my friends. Reflection on the events that have transpired helped me place this in perspective. Now we must go on a mission for Father. Shall we find out what it is?" A warm vibration came from my blades in agreement. I grabbed the scroll case and opened it. A gemstone fell into my hand. Upon contact, it flooded me with images. I knew where I had to go. The location was vividly clear.
After packing some food, I took the time to meditate and reflect upon the day’s events. Time passed as my memory recounted and absorbed learning about who Nathanael really was. The memories were crisp and clear, as if my mind gave extra processing power to remembering them.
My arrival at the location was uneventful. The heavily forested area was full of leaves beginning to turn with the onset of fall. Even though the realm was not on a spherical planet, it still had a sun and the four seasons for those that chose to live outside the city to identify with.
It was very hard to believe that so many years had passed...and the years were definitely longer than at home. Nathanael told me once that years here were about fifty percent longer for someone choosing to live outside the walls. This affected me because my body functioned normally like a human. That meant there was five hundred and forty something days passing here but inside, Heaven time did not pass at all. I tried to count the exact number of days once, possibly last year, or the year before that.
A creature hit me hard on the head once. I lost my memory for a few days and lost track. It was a valuable lesson, one I intended not to repeat. It has since been coined the "not blocking with your head" lesson. It worked well. Since then, however, I had lost track again and stopped. I really had no clue how long it had been. Whatever counted as fall or autumn was in at its full height. The leaves on the ground made sneaking difficult. I had problems moving about silently, whereas my foes did not. Because it was autumn, there was no other way. My mind refocused. I never stopped looking around when reflecting, but it was easy to chase the rabbit and stay in a meditative loop.
The silence as I panned around was eerie. The night before, the area was a slight bustle of activity. Most of the creatures did not exist on earth. I knew what to stay away from; all of them. Especially when you watch a bird attacked by what looks like mosquitoes and its bones are all that remain in moments. My protective barrier was up when they tried to eat me. Using my swords to ignite ability to burn them away was more than satisfying. I swore they cried out in pain as they burned then burst from the superheated fluid boiling inside them. It was disgusting that they existed at all.
> Other species here could not be identified either. I was not any sort of an animal nut, but I noticed the same principles did not exist here. There were other monster type creatures. Sure an actual daemon in the physical sense that could fly made sense. Large ones that looked like some sort of mythical creature like in the movies I could fathom. Bipedal creatures with multiple limbs, in uneven numbers, placed in non-symmetrical places on its body, had me believe that this place was the home the misfits of evolution.
I even saw a bird with its head located between its legs. Watching it walk was strange. How it did not hit itself in the head with its knees made me scratch mine. It had to walk bow legged. This was comical to watch until you see it eat a critter almost as large as it was and fly away afterwards.
It was hard to fathom things worse or even more different. It took years before these strange creatures started to catch my eye. Training kept me focused for so long that unless I was fighting it...it did not exist. I was used to daemons, though. Their ichor stunk so badly, the desire to vomit faded over the years.
Suddenly something was not right. A subtle noise. A slight buzz kept reaching a crescendo followed by a small popping sound. All this was barely audible at first. I thought it was a forest sound for a few minutes and perhaps the cautious nature of the forest had taken over. The volume rose slowly and increased in tempo. I stood up and peeked around the large rock my back touched. A steady popping sound echoed around the area. Changes in the air pressure worried me...but I could not see anything moving. No motions caught my eye even with my extra sensitive abilities to perceive the "not so there.” I could only hear it. It made a bubbling sound kind of like what happened when you blew into a straw in your milk as a child.