Chapter XVIII
The Might of Black Buffalo
Gabriel had been demanding that they make greater haste. He felt that this final part of their journey held the most danger and a growing sense of unease had come over him and many others as soon as they had entered the Great Basin. Michael had thought better of it, and had halted them at nightfall so that they could rest and eat before their final push to the Ute, and the crossing of a natural barrier: a frantic river. There was an odd disquiet about the place. A feeling of watchful unease settled on the company as they waited to cross.
After leaving Red Snake Pass they had ventured across the wilds, expecting at any moment for the Shadow People to come upon them, but instead their passage had been strangely trouble free. Now they were less than a full day’s travel from the Ute. Their numbers had swelled once more as many of the nations of the North had come to join them. Uziel had been training the new arrivals with different methods of fighting, telling them what to do when they encountered the enemy, and his techniques had also enhanced the natural energy balance of their Chakra. The scouts that had been sent out had come back to reveal that they had seen and heard nothing untoward, and yet the creeping silence filled more than a few of them with dread.
“There is an unnatural stillness in the air,” said Gabriel.
“I’ve noticed it too,” Michael replied, “it’s as if there is a malady over these lands.”
“It reminds me of the World of the Dieker.”
Michael crouched down and took hold of some earth, rubbing it in his hands before letting it slip through his fingers. There was no breeze: the calm was baffling and perhaps made more so by the uncertainty of what was to be faced.
“The Dieker,” continued Gabriel under his breath, “let us hope the end result is better for humanity than it was for the Diekerians.”
“And let us hope that we are more evenly matched than we were that day.”
“We still took the day,” said Gabriel.
“Yes, but more through the ruse of splitting our forces into so many parts that the Dragon didn’t know where the main strike was going to come from, and don't forget we also made him believe that our numbers were far greater than they were. And knowing him as we do, it was obvious to us that he would not risk a fight against what he thought was a far superior force.”
“And yet he is often willing to risk the lives of others,” Gabriel said thoughtfully.
“As with all those of his type, ambition is the sword which he will end up falling upon. He does not see the sacrifice of others, only his own, and to him he has already given up much, so he believes others should do the same. He believes his cause is a cause worth dieing for, as long as he does not do the dieing.”
“If that’s the case, then, Michael we cannot remain here. We do not know whether Black Elk was successful in slowing down Lothos. And with Malachi, Haldrago and not to mention the Dragon rallied against us it is more important than ever that we get to Raphael before our enemy does; and before he sacrifices many more for his cause.”
“If Black Elk had not been successful we would have known it by now. And the many nations gathered here will need their rest before the testing days to come.”
“The night at least has lost its chill.”
“I’m afraid the days to come promise to be very hot indeed,” replied Michael. “Has Uziel prepared everyone they all know what to do and when to do it?”
“Yes, Michael, everyone’s prepared as best they can be. Do you think after this next battle he will learn?”
“His rebellion’s futile, Gabriel - we have this same conversation before each major conflict. I think that’s something he would have learnt a long time ago. We always hope that the next battle is going to be the last battle. And what happens? We find ourselves having the same struggle on another world and what do we say when we get there? Do you think he will ever learn? Perhaps the answer’s simple - we end it here and now so that we don’t have to keep asking ourselves the same question at every turn, or throw of the dice.”
“Then we need to get to Raphael before the Dragon and his acolytes overrun him.”
“What of the cost to the Spirit People?” Michael asked. “They have suffered enough and the Dragon will see to it that they are punished for helping no matter what the outcome here. He will imprint it into the hearts and minds of the Vikings that should he be driven from here then they are to return one day to seek a terrible vengeance on his behalf. It is for this reason there will be dark years in times to come for these people.”
“Is there anything to be done for them?”
“You know,” said Michael with a sad sigh, “we are guardians of the Way and we must maintain the Equilibrium no matter how difficult that might be; I’m afraid when the Vikings return many hundreds of years from now they will be as savage and as pitiless as they have ever been and the greatest shame of it will be that the Dragon will have hardened their hearts to such an extent that they will not realise the shame of it until it’s too late.”
“Since when did we judge others for their ignorance? Remember if they knew the power of the Way they would not surely follow this insane course they are on.”
“And yet,” replied Michael sadly, “the Dragon knew the Way and he still chose chaos from harmony.”
Michael crouched down by the side of a sluggish fire that desperately needed some kindling. He rummaged through a bag and took from it, wrapped in a leather cloth, some smoked meat. He offered some up to Gabriel who smiled and began chewing on what was a sample of tough stringy venison. Its faded reddish hue promised that it was at least well-cooked, if a little bland.
“This is not too bad for mortal fare,” said Gabriel.
“We need to keep our strength up and this will certainly suffice for that.”
“The Spirit People are incredibly resilient, aren’t they?”
“I know,” replied Michael. “Look at their faces - they accept their lot without hesitation. They question but their questions are wise. They are true believers in Great Spirit; they are not self-serving or self-seeking. What an exceptional people they are.”
“Do not forget, Michael, some have followed the Dragon and have been seduced by his promises.”
“I guess,” said Michael, “there is good and bad in everyone.”
“Hence we are where we are,” said Gabriel.
“Soon, Gabriel, things will not be so cyclical, and we will arrive at the end of a very long journey and the Equilibrium will have returned to where it should be.”
The two stared out over the camp fires as flames burnt with life and vitality; eyes shone in shadowed light as the nations prepared in their own way for the coming battle. Some began a slow methodical dance and a chanting which gradually resonated, becoming ever faster bringing out the strength in their hearts as they called upon Great Spirit to make them worthy for the coming trials they were to face. Among them Uziel went from blazing timber to burning ember, encouraging all to believe in the cause for which they had so long strived. Since before time begun, Uziel had never lost his faith: he had always been upright and true, and with the same strength of purpose that never waned. The nations did not stop their rhythmic exhortation – instead, it appeared more fluid, more intense. Gabriel was quite moved: these people, with their uncertain future, had so much faith, the like of which he had not encountered for many a long year.
“It’s mesmerising, isn’t it,” Gabriel spoke beneath his breath.
“They are a mighty people,” said Michael, “in their simplicity and complexity. Indeed it is strange how those who came from across the sea will not, and do not understand them. It has always made me wonder how people from the same world can so easily not realise how they are all connected. Humanity - instead of appreciating their diversity, they use it as a device to be divisive.”
“I wonder how they truly look upon us,” said Michael. “We who claim to be the wisest of beings and yet we have such humbling flaws.”
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br /> “Some see us with respect and love or they would not be with us now.”
The two fell silent. The chanting gripped and held them with a fascination they had not felt for an age. The dizzying nocturnal dance that they beheld lingered in their minds long after it had stopped. The hours before dawn were as though the night had stopped breathing; the cold silence permeated the air and the crackle of burning embers subsided, leaving smouldering islands of glowing ash. Standing watch in their buckskin tunics were those of the First People, who stood so still that they looked like hollow spectres in the night. They had markings on their faces - angelic script to protect them from the machinations of Haldrago and the Wold. Above clouds came alive, appearing to be on fire as dawn slowly fought off the dark hours. Gabriel had sat up all night deep in thought, it was the same before any battle; while Michael had always slept untroubled by the coming day. Uziel had joined them earlier and had sat by the fire, his mind racing with a thousand things that he felt he might have forgotten to do. He was now quietly listening, as if there was something the land were trying to tell him, something that he should know; he held in his hand a horn made from a buffalo they had killed on route.
“You seem more pensive than usual,” said Gabriel.
“I am glad the day is upon us. Would that it end,” replied Uziel, “so that our fate might be known. It’s about time we set off, the First People are rested enough and prepared as they’ll ever be - what are we waiting for?”
“Sound your horn,” said Michael quietly. “Now we come to it, when we shall truly know the strength of the Spirit People. We have sent out scouts to see what moves.”
Uziel placed the horn to his lips and let out a rumbling thunderous burst that boomed as if it were the herald of a coming storm. The First People were quick to spring to their feet. Some had been up earlier and had waited patiently for the Sky People to make ready. Bags were hauled across shoulders, daggers were sheathed, marks were redrawn on ashen faces to give them strength, and bow strings were restrung. After a swift bite to eat all waded into the river that no longer ran angrily; its swollen banks had diminished in the night and the crossing was now calmly made.
Soon they were once more racing across the lands of the Great Basin, with the knowledge that the Ute were now close. Their pace did not tire and still there were no signs of the Shadow People. They ate up many hungry leagues, and the sun, as it watched their passing, hurried across the sky. The baked desert afforded them little protection from spying eyes but now they were so close they did not care that they could be seen. If Black Buffalo were right then it was anticipated that their path meant that the Shadow People had been avoided; and if Black Elk had managed to slow their progress as it was hoped he had done, then they would not have lost time in getting to the Ute. The chanting and dancing that had spread across their camp the night before was but an echo to the tumult to come. Eyes were fixed and determined, muscular resolute bodies charged forward with little effort.
“Can you see in the distance,” said Gabriel, “there is a strange kind of storm brewing above the mountain.”
“It’s not a storm. That’s smoke,” replied Uziel. “I fear we may be too late.”
The smoke above the lonely Ute Mountain thickened as they approached; it was as if an ominous hurricane awaited them and it was only a few leagues away now.
“As soon as our scouts return,” shouted Michael, “we’ll swing round and use the glare of the sun to cover our movements. Give the signal so that the people spread out and know that they are to take up battle formation.”
Gabriel soon gave word that the Scouts were returning and one party had brought with them Humming Bird. The surrounding lands had been crawling with the enemy so she had had to take a longer route back to them than expected. She told them that some days earlier Black Elk had fought with Fenrir and no doubt had been killed. She had in her possession a Seal. Uziel, now free of Moloch’s influence, recognised it immediately and gave it into the care of Black Buffalo, who informing him of its many functions replaced it with the Seal that was inset the weapon. The Seal that had been taken from Leif Erikson among its powers had the ability to bend people’s will to obey whoever it was that commanded it. With such a prize the battle might turn in their favour. The other Seal was given to Michael, who with the help of Gabriel set in motion a plan for its use.
As they came forward across the low lying plateau with the sun at their backs; in front they could see the battle; fallen and struggling bodies were thrown together as though they were choking nettles fighting in a field of wild flowers. The Ute were retreating toward the Mountain that stood alone, arrows were flying back and forth helping and hindering their withdrawal, long ladders were being brought up to scale the heights as stone club and axe fought against sword and shield in the hope of slowing the enemy. Fire was rained down and as one man fell, one stepped forward, replacing him and so the fight continued. The Ute were barely clinging on.
“Uziel,” said Michael, taking in the battle scene, “as soon as everyone’s formed up, sound the charge. There’s not a moment to lose.”
“They’re about to be overrun,” said Gabriel. “If we divide our forces we can come at them from the flank and the rear - they will be caught between us and Raphael.”
“There’s no time, Gabriel. Let set to it and be like a hammer blow. We shall descend upon their flank and drive them into the shadows where they belong. Rise now, Spirit People, rise and be counted among the greatest of your ancestors; rise and do not falter until this plague has been driven from Turtle Island!”
The Horn sounded and as it did so the Mages under the guidance of Moloch and the Wold with Haldrago at their head turned to meet the threat. The First People rushed forward. Haldrago waved his staff and began chanting; any that were not protected by the markings of the Sky People began to alter as if something had taken hold of them. Their bodies, squeezed tight, turned ashen as though all life were being sucked out of them; their eyes became tar pools and they were in all respects Wold. As the two armies clashed, bodies entangled in some mesmeric dance in the midst of battle, Fenrir came slashing at anyone who ventured within his grasp, the creature fought his way to Uziel.
He leapt forward and with one strike sliced Uziel’s shield from him. Uziel reacted swiftly, bringing his sword down with as much effort as he could muster. Fenrir, seeing the blow, pushed a Wold to the fore for protection; the Wold collapsed dead, shorn in two. As he came forward Long Tooth leapt to Uziel’s side and thrust his teeth into the haunches of Fenrir. Uziel was now so close to the creature that he could smell its rotten breath, it had a large gash across its face that had barely healed from its encounter with Black Elk. The beast gave out a wild savage roar as it kicked out at Long Tooth, its long claws almost disembowelling him, but before he could turn and finish Long Tooth off Grey Wolf struck him in the neck with his spear, and with his Tomahawk he slashed at the beasts open wound; Uziel quickly swung round, and brought down his sword, which cleaved off Fenrir's head. A black gaseous vapour oozed out of it and disappeared; the being of the creature had not been destroyed but flung into another realm, it would have needed the precise rite for its life essence to be purged for good.
The fighting continued well into the night; fires burnt all around affording a grim ghostly display to the battle scene. The shadowed light gave image to spectral forms as they clashed one on one as though each fought alone in some personal primal world of dissolution and horror. Moloch with several Mages came upon Black Buffalo and the last of the Shamen that still lived; the two factions clashed in a chaotic revel. Black Buffalo, sturdy as ever stood face to face with the most diabolical adversary ever to walk Turtle Island: more ruthless, more savage, and more notorious than Fenrir, Lothos and Haldrago put together, second only to the Dragon for sheer merciless cunning.
It was Moloch that drew forth pestilence in the Middle Age of man, it was Moloch that had devised the insidious plan to use Uziel as a vessel which had led them to this
point, and it was Moloch that had arranged for the Dragon and his entire army to escape from Helleos Prime, before succumbing to certain defeat. And here he was in the guise of a Viking warrior, standing almost seven feet tall long red hair streaming beneath his helmet as though his head were aflame. His cold blue eyes regarded Black Buffalo with open disdain and his sword shone with a chilling gleam. Its hilt held a seal of power, giving it strength beyond its temper.
“You are different - unlike all these others,” said Moloch, slowly circling his prey.
Black Buffalo did not answer. He lifted his weapon and at the end of its long shaft were what appeared to be three great eagle talons in the form of a trident and embedded within it was the seal that Humming Bird had taken from Leif Erikson. Moloch recognised the weapon: he had fought against it before and so it gave him pause to think, he took a step back, for the first time in an age uncertainty crossed his mind.
“That is a weapon only an Angelos might yield.”
“I am no Angelos. I am a Watcher and I do not fear the Mages,” replied Black Buffalo, “and neither do I fear Moloch their leader.”
"Then you're a fool," cried Moloch.
Moloch swung his sword round but Black Buffalo was too quick. He managed to deflect the blow aside and stepped back to brace himself for another charge. Sparks flew as the two weapons collided. Moloch was inhumanly swift, but fortunately so too was Black Buffalo who had the power to counter his every move. The two lurched one way then the other, involved in a powerful brutal struggle of their own; they were like two ships tossed on a savage sea. Black Buffalo was an expert in the use of the weapon: he had had been taught its uses by the first watcher in a vision quest, so as each stroke from Moloch landed it was brushed away. Moloch, though, had been fighting this war for thousands of years and he had been the one to convince the Mages to side with the Dragon. Even the Dragon feared him as he was highly ambitious and had a lust for power only rivalled by his own. Moloch thrust his sword forward once more, and once more Black Buffalo shrugged the blow aside, smashing his shield into his midriff. Moloch stumbled, almost losing his footing, and Black Buffalo, realising his moment had come, pounced, bringing the full force of his weapon to bear. But Moloch had quickly recovered. As Black Buffalo came down he rolled to one side and swept his sword round catching Black Buffalo across his unprotected arm. Fortunately for Black Buffalo, he saw the stroke coming and as he landed he too spun away. What could have sliced his arm off had done nothing more than graze it. Black Buffalo withdrew, breathing deeply and much relieved that his rashness had not caused his downfall.
“You’re good,” said Moloch brandishing his sword as though it were the sting of some mighty beast, “You know a trick or two I'll give you that, but do you really believe you can defeat me? It would be a shame to lose you, Watcher - join with me and I will give you all these lands to watch over as your own.”
“It is good enough for me to serve the First People as their guardian. I need nothing more.”
“Nothing more,” replied Moloch with disdain, “if service is what you are after, then serve me and I shall have you praised throughout the Universe.”
“I do not seek praise or glory for myself but for Great Spirit alone.”
“Your duty for Great Spirit is misguided,” replied Moloch. “I can show you the true path and bring you unimagined power, I shall place vast armies under you and you shall bring peoples and nations to follow the Way, the right Way not their way; they would make a slave of you and all of us.”
“Duty is not slavery; we do things because they are right to do, not because we have to do them. Our duty is misunderstood by such as you. For our duty is to compassion and that is something you know not.”
Moloch moved forward his sword at the ready. “There are many forms of mercy. Do you really think that Gabriel and Michael do these things out of a sense of compassion? They do it to maintain what they refer to as the Equilibrium and how many innocents have died because of that, and their Way?”
Black Buffalo took a step back. “How many innocents have been saved thanks to them and no thanks to you whose treacherous acts have destroyed nation after nation. You bring shame upon Great Spirit and the Way; you who believe in something darker than the Equilibrium, that it is right and proper to subjugate others for a foul belief. That you should know better cannot be doubted, and yet it is only by might that you prove yourself, and by doing so you show how weak you truly are. For that which conquers not with Love can only do so with deceit and your forked tongue spills forth such treachery that you do not even recognise it for what it is, so lost are you that your only hope is to make others lost also. Moloch, you do not see that you betray yourself when you betray the Way.”
Moloch let out a mocking laugh, “Do you really believe that? You must be more deluded than the Angelos. Here I am, the greatest of the Mages, second to none in my craft, and you - a mere Watcher - dare to presume that you know me? What arrogance! The Mages come from a Dark Universe where no light may enter and our Way is very different to their Way and that does not make us wrong it just makes us different. And so when I chose mercy for two worlds that disputed their Way, in their anger the Angelos destroyed them.”
“That,” replied Black Buffalo, “is not how I understand it. The worlds you refer to had turned to the Dragon and being seduced by him, worshiped his way and why, like the Shadow People they were weak and easily infected by his lies and became so convinced that his lies were the truth that they were willing to commit any heinous act in his name. The contamination was so strong and the disease so virulent that the cure had to be drastic indeed. The Angelos had to protect the Equilibrium lest it be broken for good, and for that you blame them. Blame yourself!”
“That’s enough!” shouted Moloch. “You cannot fathom the great losses we have all had to suffer for our freedom.”
With that Moloch launched a ferocious attack, wielding his sword with manic strength and crazed abandon. It was all Black Buffalo could do to block and parry each blow but still he refused to yield and when Moloch thought he finally could strike a fatal blow he was prevented from doing so by Grey Wolf who had come to fight by Black Buffalo’s side. Uziel also leapt into the fray and thrust his sword forward forcing Moloch back.
“I’ve waited a long time for this, Moloch,” cried Uziel. “Now we’ve dispatched your dog I think its time you went the same way.” Uziel began to circle Moloch and as he did so Black Buffalo moved behind him.
Moloch, saw his position was becoming desperate, leapt back so as to avoid being surrounded. Haldrago had already fought to his side with a guard of Wold as his shield, began to withdraw to a safe distance.
Then a Viking horn sounded - the Shadow People had broken through to the Ute atop the mountain and were now scaling the ladders and flooding the defences. Haldrago and Moloch turned and raced forward clambering up the ladders to join Lothos and the Dragon who were already penetrating the defences of Raphael. The Wold and many Mages stood guard at the bottom of the ladders desperately trying to prevent the First People from relieving the onslaught going on above them. But then suddenly many Shadow People who had had enough of the scorn that had been thrust upon them, turned on their masters, made up of both Viking and First People, and so bitter became the fighting that those guarding the ladders either surrendered or were killed; but not before the Dragon had broken through the lines of the Ute. One voice could be heard above the tumult, a desperate agonised cry.
“Raphael,” shouted the Dragon in shape he was the mightiest Viking ever to walk upon Terra Azure, “hand over the Codex and end this futile fight.”
Raphael came forward, a tall man almost as tall as Moloch, his long dark hair glistened in the gloom, and his dark eyes remained unmoved. As he walked his breechcloth reached the ground and shimmered with red and white beads that in design were Angelic script. Across his chest was a breastplate of bone, feather and beads. He was unstrained and unshaken by events. The fighting had continued throughout
the night and dawn was now swiftly approaching: the bloody tormented sky was only matched by the twisted bodies that soaked the ground, a fleshy broth of hardship and torment. He tapped his long tomahawk against his leg and threw his shield across his arm.
“It’s in there Azazel, if you want it, go and get it,” cried Raphael pointing to the entrance of a cavern, his eyes were unmoving, his legs stood firm, this was someone who had no intention of giving way.
“Moloch,” said the Dragon spinning round removing his long fur cloak and stepping forward, “set up the portal - as soon as we have the Codex, I want out of here.”
He then charged Raphael, sword raised and gripped with both hands. Within moments he was slashing at his foe. Raphael parried the blow with his Tomahawk, it should have shattered at the very first contact with Azazel’s weapon, but this one had been imbued with a greater strength. Raphael had altered the Chakra of his weapon making it just as powerful, more so even, than any weapon a Viking could yield, and Azazel had not expected any different.
The two struck at each other like savage dogs, the blows were so fast it was not possible to see them land, but land they did. One blow shattered Raphael’s shield, its strength finally giving out. Splinters burst everywhere, one as sharp as a blade pierced his leg. He pulled it out and staggered back. The Dragon seizing his chance, leapt forward and struck the Tomahawk from Raphael’s grasp, and kicking him in the midriff, forced him to the ground. He stood over his prey and raised his sword to land the fatal blow, but before he could do so Raphael thrust the splinter into the side of Azazel, and rolled away.
Azazel shocked, stared down at the splinter imbedded in his armour. The thick leather jerkin had prevented it from penetrating too deeply. As he removed it, he placed his hand over the gash that remained, he was bloodied but not badly enough to slow him down. Raphael sizing up the situation withdrew within the cavern, as Malachi, Moloch and the Mages joined Azazel. Lothos and Haldrago and many Wold covered their rear, and their escape route. Preventing help from getting to those held up in the cavern. Quickly the Dragon entered behind Raphael.
The Cavern was well lit by rows of torches that hung from the smooth walls. The ground was soft, earthen and cool; at the far end was unmistakably another portal. A Sacred Seal had been placed against the rear wall and a doorway had opened. Gabriel and Michael stood by its side. The Dragon appeared unmoved, his simmering anger tightening his jaw. His two great adversaries had been conspicuous by their absence and now he knew why, they had used the Seal taken from the weapon of the watcher to reenergise the one in Raphael's possession, and they were attempting to open a doorway to another realm for him.
There were many Ute between Azazel and his prize, and they did not look like they were going to give up what was in their charge without a fight. Then to his horror he saw the portal shimmer into life, Raphael took hold of the Codex he had been guarding, and plunged into it. The vortex immediately collapsed, he was gone and so was the Codex.
The Dragons fury was unbounded, he struck the nearest Ute brave dead, and then with another swing of his sword he killed two others; he would willingly have killed them all if necessary; for the greater good of his cause.
As he was about to spring forward, Moloch hauled him back, “We have a reading as to where the Codex has been sent: leave them. They are unimportant, we must get to the Codex before they retrieve it; they will then be forced to yield.”
Azazel shot him an angered glance, “We would never yield, neither will they, this finishes now.”
A Higher Wold ran in bleeding from a gash to his cheek, “Lothos and Haldrago are about to be overrun. It’s Uziel and with him is the Watcher: we must withdraw to the portal now, or we will have no place to withdraw to.”
As he finished speaking, an arrow struck him through the mouth; he fell to the floor dead. Azazel seeing that the fight reached an impasse relented and backed away.
In that confined space many of his servants made a wall of shields to protect his retreat.
Gabriel shouted across at them, “Moloch’s wrong Azazel, he couldn’t have a reading, the Codex has been sent through on a random passage, none will be able to find it, your lot, our lot, any lot.”
Azazel turned eyes blazing, as if to re-join the fray, but was prevented from doing so by Moloch. “It is over. He’s just trying to goad you into the mistake of fighting a battle we cannot win. We will soon be surrounded by the enemy: nothing more can be gained by staying here.”
The Dragon nodded disgustedly and exited the cavern.
Outside Uziel and Black Buffalo with the help of those that had turned against their former masters, had finally fought their way to the top of the ladders, and stood by the edge of the rough plateau. Others further forward were grappling with their enemy bludgeoning, slicing, disembowelling. The cries and screams of the fallen echoed around the mountain. Grown men wept in despair of what they saw.
Azazel stood a moment, embittered by the sight before him. The carnage was awful, arms and legs had been hewn from bodies. The ground was soaked in blood and faeces.
With a shake of his head he turned to his faithful lieutenant, “Moloch get the Portal open.”
Moloch nodded, he hurriedly did so: he punched into a Sacred Seal some details, and an image appeared on the other side of the portal. Smoke plumes were everywhere, buildings were aflame as people ran across cobbled narrow streets. The Dragon took one look back and entered with Moloch and Haldrago. Next to enter were Malachi and Lothos. The Mages and the Wold quickly followed behind. Uziel and Black Buffalo fought their way forward from one side, while Gabriel and Michael did the same from the other, but the Vikings proved hardy opponents strong enough to withstand them, enabling the Dragon and his acolytes to make their escape.
After they had left Leif Erikson stood alone, with what was left of the Shadow People, they had thought the portal an opening to the Vision Realm, or Valhalla; an opening that they would not enter. It seemed after all the killing they had done, that life was too precious to leave behind, especially after it had been so desperately fought over. Leif Erikson realising that Ragnarok was not coming, and that the Dragon had deceived them, wished for a parley. He knew his people were restless for home. There was a hushed oppressive silence as each party stared from one to the other, uncertain of what fate intended.
The Sky People, with the permission of the Elders, stepped forward to speak on their behalf. They then informed Leif Erikson, if he were prepared to return to the Great Lake with his people, and depart the lands of the First People, they would be allowed to leave; but only on the understanding that they and their descendants never again returned to Turtle Island as enemies. As expected given his position Leif Erikson quickly agreed to these terms, even so Michael knew in his heart that they would not be able to keep to them.
And with the cavern emptied, the Sky People, the Shaman, and the Elders of the Nations of the First People, were left to consider their next course of action. Running Bear, who had been Raphael's vessel, was taken by a Shaman so that he might recover from the ordeal his body had been put through. And it was with a heavy heart that Humming Bird and Grey Wolf left saying their brief farewells. Humming Bird had longed to tell Uziel much of how she felt but her love was still so strong that she kept to her silence. And as a powerful Shaman she was required elsewhere to aid her people in their recovery and to help heal the sick and injured.
So it was that the only ones left there were the fathers of the many nations of the First People that had helped in the great struggle against the Dragon. They had decided to wait their until time came for the Sky People to depart.
"Why did Raphael wait till now to escape with the Codex?" asked Black Buffalo.
"The Seal he had had lost all life and so it needed to be restored to its former self before it would work again and that is what we were able to do," replied Gabriel.
“The Codex has gone somewhere random,” said Michael, “So it is hoped the Dragon and his Acolytes are now go
ne for good.”
“That’s too bad, especially since we discovered it was the powerful Codex of Death,” said Gabriel.
“What is that?” asked Black Buffalo urgently.
“It is a Codex with a mighty force of energy, it is strong in spirit, it holds the key and has the means to destroy anything, even Universes,” said Uziel. “It can be used on a limited or vast scale depending on what the controller wants. This explains why the Dragon was so resolute in his pursuit of it. The question is what do we do now?”
“Now Uziel,” replied Michael, “we go after it by following its Chakra.”
“I’m afraid when you sent it through it really could have gone anywhere, and we just don’t know where,” said Uziel.
“And that’s why we have the Watcher of that Codex here, their Chakras are linked,” replied Michael. “Not even the Dragon realised how important the Watcher is; you see the first Watcher was the Guardian of the Codex of Death, it was for that reason he was sent after the Greater Codex because only someone who could control such power would be in a position to have the means to command such a thing. And consequently his heirs would have similar abilities. I’m sure now that the Codex that was lost in the middle age of man was the Codex of Death. It was drawn here by the Watcher’s Chakra, and the Dragon must have hoped that the same random setting that sent the Codex here, would have sent Uziel here also, hence the reason why they used him. Now we must rely on the Watcher once more to see if he can find where the Codex has gone.”
The Watcher took the Seal, once a gift to Leif Erikson, and holding it in one hand, he then jammed his staff into the ground opposite the portal and began chanting, as his words resonated the portal came alive and shimmered, as if it had become a window into another universe.
“There’s something wrong, I cannot feel its Chakra.”
“What do you mean?” asked Michael.
“I mean the essence is gone, otherwise I would sense something, but I feel empty instead. It’s as though the Codex no longer exists.”
The three Angelos surprised by this, stared into the haze of the portal.
“It’s Raphael, he’s shielding it, keeping it safe from the Dragon, and unfortunately from us too.” said Michael.
“There must be another way to locate it?” replied Gabriel.
“Could Raphael have left us a clue as to where it could be?” asked Black Buffalo.
“Yes, that’s the answer. Raphael is the clue, his Chakra should be possible to follow. That’s what Moloch meant when he said they’ve got the location of the Codex,” responded Gabriel.
“We would be able to go to Raphael’s last point of reference,” said Uziel, “but he would have immediately disappeared into some other universe, as he would have known that he could be traced, as powerful as his Chakra is, it could have been found and he would not have had the means to conceal his own essence. So let us be on our way, and soon.”
“We will tarry a little while longer to guide the Spirit People in the search for the many questions they wish answered, and if he and his people are willing then the Watcher should come with us. Since he and the Codex are connected, we will need him.”
“And what will become of the First People?” asked Uziel.
“They will once more become separate nations,” responded Michael with a shrug.
“Wouldn’t it be best served to leave them united?” said Uziel.
“They are distinct peoples with many beliefs and customs that are different,” replied Michael. “We do not have the right to stifle that diversity - it is the fact that they are many nations that makes them strong in spirit. It is through their differences that they are reliant on one another. That is their real strength - that is what really unites them. They understand that life is more than the achievements of one man and one people, and that is what the Spirit People are all about. They have true wisdom. It is not for us to tell them what is best for them. They are capable of working it out for themselves.”
Valour of the Spirit People Page 24