She entered a different world. One without sight. One step at a time she moved forwards; her hands in front of her. She took five steps, then stopped. Her feet detected a slight dip in the angle of the floor. She reached out with her hands, her fingers met marble. Cold and unyielding.
She explored the cool surface with her fingers and found it extended in both directions; a shelf or table of some description. She pressed up against the shelf and reached in. Her fingers brushed against something soft. She pulled her hand back in surprise, nothing happened. She reached out once more and again met the soft texture. She allowed her fingers to linger and explore the shape there.
The softness continued for most of the length of the shelf, then her fingers reached a new texture. Skin. Luana froze. Could it be? Could she have found the archangel's resting place? What should she do? Her mind was paralysed by fear and the darkness.
It was not how she had imagined it. She thought she would have entered a great hall, found Rafael and asked him to fight the Magisters and that would be that. Not this; not this dark chamber in the middle of a mountain, with a long dead body on a cold slab. Think, think, she told herself.
She moved back along the shelf and kept her fingers in contact with the body. She would find his hand and work from there. After some fumbling, searching amongst soft feathers she found a hand. Cold and stiff; skeletal. She felt along the fingers and found nothing. She made a decision and climbed up onto the shelf. This allowed her access to the whole body. She began a methodical search. Then she found it.
Her fingers touched metal and followed it. A sword, then she felt a shield. His left arm was strapped to the shield. She could feel dents and notches in its surface, also nicks and imperfections in the sword's blade. A warrior then. She checked his left hand and found a ring. She removed it easily from the wasted fingers.
She felt the ring and decided the safest place to put it was her own finger. She slipped it on and was amazed to see the ring glowing. Amber light radiated out from its central stone, the warmth from her flesh seeming to feed it. At least she could see a little. She became aware of a tingling in her body and noticed the room was brighter. Her skin emitted a low luminescence; she had become the light source.
Instead of being fearful and pulling off the ring, she felt strangely comforted and safe. She lent forwards and up along the form beneath her. She stiffened as she came to the top of the body. There, she found what she was looking for. This was indeed an angel, a long dead one. The body was wasted, the flesh perished. The feathers and wings however were proud and lush with no sign of ageing.
She looked into the face of the angel. "So are you the one I'm looking for? Are you Rafael? Will I ever know?" The skeletal face stared at her with empty sockets. She straightened up and sat astride the angel's chest. She could feel cramp grip her leg and swore. She tried to stand but her leg gave way in painful spasm. She fell to one side, her hand reached out to break the fall. Her wrist caught the edge of the angel's sword; her skin tore on its jagged edge.
"Hell's teeth! Why did that have to happen?" Luana moaned miserably. She rubbed her leg and felt the cramp recede. She sighed in relief, turning her attention to her wrist. It was not a deep wound but the skin had been broken and she was bleeding. A few large drops of her blood fell onto the dead angel's hand. She tore a strip of cloth from her tunic to act as a bandage.
Something moved beside her.
She snapped her head around and looked. The angel's fingers had twitched; she would swear it. She stared at its hand and saw colour returning to it. Her blood had disappeared from its skin; it had triggered something. An impulse took her and she turned back to the angel's face. She stretched her wrist over the skull and allowed it to bleed freely into the angel's mouth.
She saw an instant change. Flesh began to appear on the face, colour started to return to the skin. She continued dripping her blood into the angel's mouth. She watched, mesmerised. She knew the transformation was taking place all over its body. However, it was the angel's face that held her attention.
After a few minutes, her wrist stopped bleeding. She applied her rudimentary bandage and jumped down from the shelf. As an afterthought, she returned the ring to the angel's left hand where she had found it. She was not surprised to see it still glowing once returned to its owner's finger.
Luana waited and watched. The body grew in stature before her eyes. Its musculature became defined; even the wings and feathers took on a new luminescence. After ten minutes, the process slowed, she noticed movements in its arms and legs. Then she saw the chest move.
The angel took its first breath in an age.
CHAPTER 17
Rafael
Luana spoke. "Rafael, come to me. Rafael, come back we need you. We need you now. The Erthe is in great danger." She repeated the words again and again. The angel's breathing strengthened and his eyelids fluttered open.
A voice, dry as ash, as ancient as the stars spoke to her. "Who are you? Why have you woken me? How do you know my name?"
The angel sat up its bones creaking, joints crunching. His facial features had almost completely reformed. Luana saw a man's face, in his fourth decade. He had short greying hair and piercing silver eyes. He looked at his hands as if seeing them for the first time, then stretched his wings behind him. Luana gasped when she saw his wings unfurled.
"Answer me."
Luana wrenched her senses back under control. "Rafael, I have come to ask your help. You need to recall the Seven and help us fight the Magisters. They've taken over the Erthe and have enslaved her peoples. They've discovered thrall magic and have filled the Erthe with plague and slavery. The undead walk our world."
Rafael's eyes narrowed at this last comment. "Life and death should be separate. Once mortal life has ended it should never to be undone. That is the work of darkness. This cannot go unchallenged. Tell me more."
Luana spent the next hour recounting to Rafael everything that had happened to her, including the strange dreams and their instructions to find and wake him.
"It seems the watchers have served their purpose," he said.
"Watchers?" Luana asked.
"There are those who are watchers, their gift is passed from generation to generation. They watch for great evil on the Erthe and will summon good to combat this evil. It sounds as if this watcher or guardian angel, as they used to be named, has used you as the instrument of my awakening. We may meet them and thank them some day."
Rafael beckoned to Luana. "Come here child."
Luana could not help herself. She felt drawn to the archangel. His gaze penetrated her soul. She felt him searching for something deep within her heart.
"You carry sorrow, child." Rafael reached out and laid a hand on her forehead. He closed his eyes, she found herself leaning into his palm, her own eyes closing. She seemed to melt into him. A union of spirits; mortal and immortal. Her heartbeat slowed to match his.
"Ah…I see it now. Your pain; your loss. This man. Elias. He is tortured, scarred. He feels for you and you for him. He holds back because of his fear, his damage. You hold back because of your fear, your damage. And yet, you both recognise each other's light."
Rafael reached out his other hand, his ring now burning brightly. "I have seen the twelve suns and have been blinded. I release their light into your darkness. You and Elias, you will find your path. Together."
The room shook and the ring burned with impossible brightness for a heartbeat. Rafael released Luana. "There, it is done."
Luana slumped back, away from his hand and looked up. "What's done? What happened? What did you do?"
Rafael gazed at her intently. "I have shone light into a dark place. A place that deserves hope. You will see; it will unfold as it should."
Luana looked into his eyes and knew acceptance. What ever had been done she knew was good. Her mind faltered. A question burned the back of her throat; she looked down at her bandaged wrist.
"Speak." Rafael stood before her flexing h
is wings. The light from his ring filled the chamber with a soft glow. He was luminous before her. It felt like a dream. She did not want to break the spell. For once she felt safe, comforted.
"The blood. From my wrist. It brought you back to life?"
"Yes, what of it?" Rafael's eyes looked down at her, he stretched his neck from side to side, bones cracking in his spine.
"Well, I only know of one instance where that's supposed to happen…"
Rafael spoke before she could finish.
"Angels and blood drinkers. Yes, they are our distant cousins. Wayward brethren. Seekers, they seek out the dark and its secrets. We seek out the light and its secrets. A beautiful counterpoint. It's a shame it creates conflict. But then, light would not exist without darkness. An exquisite dilemma don't you think?"
"You're… a vampire?" Luana looked shocked and took a step backwards.
Rafael gave her a withering look.
"We are from the same stock. Both creatures of the Erthe. Related by shared history and conflict. We came from blood and the life force of blood. Angels however, have evolved, we can do without blood, we need faith and light. Not just the light of the sun but the light people carry in their hearts. So long as people need hope angels will walk the Erthe. We will fight for the light and goodness that follows it. If the darkness were to obliterate the light in people's hearts angels would be powerless, banished."
Luana let his words wash over her. She had lost track of time and was adjusting, processing everything that had happened since entering Angel's Landing. Layers were unfolding before her eyes.
Rafael looked magnificent. His body had completed its transformation. His feathers shone with lustrous vitality. His eyes and hair were startling silver and his skin glowing. He went to the marble shelf and took up his ancient blade and shield. They too were restored to their former glory and looked new.
"How did you end up in here? How long were you asleep?" Luana blurted out.
"The guardians placed me here in a time of peace. The search for new light was handed over to the Seven; to explore the Erthe's unknown dimensions. That's where they'll be. Your guardian used you to awaken me. The angels of this plane have been defeated by this new threat you speak of, this thrall magic. This is indeed a time of great danger."
Luana had so many questions but little time. "Yes, we must act. Even now, the Magister fleet is attacking this Island. The defenders won't be able to hold out long against thrall magic."
Rafael nodded. "Yes, I can feel what's happening beyond these walls. It's time to leave this place." With that, Rafael stepped forwards and took Luana in his arms. A blinding flash followed. When Luana opened her eyes, they were standing on top of Angel's Landing. Moose and Willow had their backs to them.
She called out to them and they turned.
"Sweet mother…" Moose looked stunned, then a smile broke out across his face. "Now we can take the fight to the Magister bastards."
~
Elias stumbled through the forest. He had lost his bearings in the dark. He knew he had to put distance between himself and the Magisters. He knew Stedfastgate would fall that night. Those that resisted would be killed or taken into slavery. No man could stand against thrall magic.
He stopped for a drink by a pool at the base of a waterfall. The moonlight shone down through the trees, he could see his reflection in the water as he drank. Without warning, a savage pain gripped him. His face burned. In desperation, he plunged his head into the pool. The burning eased and he lifted his head out of the water.
He blinked and brought his hands to his face and felt the skin. He froze. It was smooth. He leant forwards and looked in the water. The ripples in the pool settled. His reflection came into focus.
Elias gasped.
"No, it can't be. How?" His words trailed off.
He stared.
The moon looked down impassively. The distant rumble of cannon fire pierced the air.
A soft breeze rustled the leaves above the pool.
~
Calim Dove's heart thumped. He had been waiting for something good to happen. His consciousness shifted. He felt a new presence on the Erthe; a memory ignited within. An ancient awareness had returned and walked the Erthe once more.
He knew Rafael was back.
His job was done. He did not know what would happen next; the die was cast. He would continue the façade, serving the Magisters with his second sight. He would hand them small victories and bide his time. He would make them vulnerable when it counted.
~
"We'll hit them with fire and ice. My widow maker is thirsty for Magister blood." The bravado in Jotkim's voice sounded hollow.
Travin and Jotkim stood on the low hills surrounding Numibar. The march through the frontier lands from the north was gruelling. They had met resistance along the way but it was half hearted. It was almost too easy; as if the Magisters were leading them on, allowing them to the very walls of Numibar.
They were here at last, looking down on the ancient walls of the great city. Their numbers had been eroded by the march and the skirmishes along the way but they were still a formidable force. They had close to a thousand mammoths and just over nine thousand frost giants. It would be a supreme effort. The bulk of the Magister army lay in the Raven lands to the east on their campaign of expansion and terror.
Travin looked back at their encampment on the plateau. They had an excellent vantage point over the valley below and the approach to Numibar.
"Tomorrow we attack," Jotkim said flatly.
"They know we are here. They'll be ready, behind their walls." Travin scratched his chin. "I'll fly into the city tonight and spy on their defences."
Jotkim looked concerned. "Do you think that's a good idea? What if you're captured?"
Travin grunted. "It's an advantage we have. It needs to be exploited. Don’t worry. I can look after myself."
Jotkim spat on the ground, looked at Travin and nodded. "Just leave enough of the bastards to satisfy my hammer; she thirsts for Magister blood."
Travin was lost in thought. The night could not come soon enough. Magister scouts had been seen on their southern flank; they would have a measure of the force bearing down on Numibar. The city gates had not been built to withstand a mammoth onslaught. Accounts of what the beasts could do were legendary. The day would bring forth new heroes, new legends.
He turned to Jotkim. "Aye, my friend. There'll be blood enough to satisfy your hammer. He smiled and nodded. "If you'll excuse me, I will away to prepare for my flight." Travin took his leave from Jotkim and his lieutenants.
Travin had his doubts. The city was too quiet; it looked ready. They had not seen a single sentry on the battlements; no sign of life was visible, not even smoke. It was as if the populace were gone. He knew that was impossible. The gates were shut; they were waiting. It would be a bloody day. Many thousands of lives would be lost.
Travin returned to his tent and rested. He ate a light meal of fruit and bread an hour before darkness. He dressed in black and tied his hair back. He wore a bandolier of throwing knives and two fighting blades strapped to his legs. The sky darkened and the stars came out.
His breath misted as he left the tent. The frost giants left him alone, respecting his privacy. They continued about their business, their campfires lighting up the plateau. Smells of cooking and the sounds of mammoths settling in for the night filled the air. The frost giants prepared for battle, each in their own way.
Travin walked through the camp. His eyes fixed on the slight rise ahead, the rise that led to the view over Numibar. He reached the crags and looked down. The city was shrouded in darkness and stood as a ship in the night, silhouetted against the sky. A black thorn in the Erthe's side.
Without warning, Travin jumped off the crags and fell like a stone. The ground rushed up to meet him, at the last minute he opened his wings and with a powerful thrust he lifted into the air and away from the plateau. He swung around, flanking the city walls and approa
ched Numibar from behind.
He was high enough to see into the city above her walls. Nothing but darkness lay within. He reached the south tower and landed on its roof.
"Speak to me Numibar. What are you hiding?" Travin crouched on the tower scanning the streets below. For a while, he did not see anything stir. Then he noticed a flickering on the periphery of his vision. When he looked away from an area, he could see movement off to one side.
"Ah…I see what you've done. Clever. A shroud. Stealth. Cunning. But not enough."
Travin launched himself into a descending arc above the city; he spotted the central garden district and headed there. He made a soft landing on grass and dropped to his knee. Nothing happened. He could hear his heart racing; he allowed his breathing to settle.
The trees sighed above; the air was rich with the scent of flowers. The gardens were kept in permanent bloom by Magister sorcery. A strange dedication to nature from those so evil, he thought. He made his way through the trees and came to a bridleway that entered a narrow street. He watched for any sign of life but seeing none, he made his move.
As he passed through the city streets, he noticed the shutters were closed. He kept on and finally reached the great square. His senses were on edge, he knew he had found something. Cautiously, he peered around a corner and looked into the square.
By the ancient light!
There, armed to the hilt stood the people of Numibar. About twenty thousand souls stood rigid in the cold night air. Women and children were among the throng. Soldiers were in their ranks too. All wore the same blank look. He recognised it. These people were entranced by thrall magic. They were beyond help. They belonged to the Magisters.
Travin swore. He knew this army would be ruthless and would kill many of the frost giants. If only he could find the Magister liar; then he would know where to direct his main force. He looked around the square; his eyes fell on the white church spires. They were tall enough to see out over the city walls into the valley beyond. He watched them closely. Then, looking away slightly, he saw movement.
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