His words hit like lidocaine. Numbness spreads from my brain to my lips then everywhere else. I want to cry out in denial, but an eerie crimp rolls forward from the back of my abdomen. It is the horrifying gut feeling that Reb speaks the truth and that more disturbing news is to come.
“Take a moment, Ted. I know this news is not easily digested.”
I impulsively decide to put my numbness to work for me and keep the shocks coming. I just need to absorb the information and process it later.
“What happened to Dan and Val? If they were part of the alliance, why wasn’t I raised here?”
“We had some strong differences of opinion with Dan and Val when it came to how to best approach preparing the next generation of alliance fighters. They believed it was better to train up traditional Nephilim, but didn’t think that was possible without a shift in the narrative. They insisted on teaching you and the other new recruits that Nephilim are all noble creatures, that Nephilim are not actually the byproduct of illicit sexual relationships between angels and women, and more. When we refused to adopt the same narrative, they abandoned the alliance and took you with them to the farm where you grew up.” He looks at me with deep concern and pity. “I’m sorry, Ted.”
“So you’re saying that all of that was a lie?” I ask, staggered by my crumbling reality.
“It’s not entirely a lie. The Nephilim were initially noble but, like humanity before them, their nobility was short-lived. We’ve been fighting to lead our kind closer to our angelic roots and our honorable calling, but we’ve struggled to have widespread success.”
“Jan taunted that I’m more human than Nephilim and you implied that Nephilim really are the product of angels and women. Is what she said true?”
“Yes, the old stories are true. Nephilim were originally the offspring of angels and women, but they can also be the offspring of two Nephilim or even a Nephilim and a human. With each generation, the potency of angelic blood is usually further diluted, so there are Nephilim of various size, strength, and purity. Some people out there have just a dash of Nephilim blood and don’t even know it. Others are more angel than human. There is evidence of Nephilim reproducing with angels, thereby increasing the concentration of angelic blood and making offspring of incredible strength. Have you heard the legend of Verdonos?”
“I have. My paren—Dan and Val told me the story when I was young,” I respond.
“Verdonos is an example of one such Nephilim and is the most powerful ever recorded, although we also have another such example living amongst us here who may be just as powerful. Verdonos was conceived by an angel and his Nephilim mother, whose blood was already elevated in purity, making him more than seventy-five percent angel. Hence his incredible power and ability to open a bridge to the Pneuma Rigma.”
I’m both fascinated and bothered by his tales and information. It doesn’t seem realistic for anyone to have such knowledge about things so far removed from their experience. Yet, somehow, I find it unquestionably believable. It just feels true, but so did some of Jan’s lies before her betrayal. I have to keep my guard up for now.
“How could you possibly know that? According to the legend, he lived and died centuries ago,” I challenge skeptically.
“Ted, the implications of this war are far-reaching. It has attracted the attention of beings well beyond the Nephilim. We have allies in their ranks and I meet with them occasionally. They’ve opened my eyes to a multitude of truths that surpass my wildest imaginings. That being said, the recent exponential growth in the ranks of wicked Nephilim is a mystery and a grave concern to all of us.”
WE KNOW.
Concern wipes across Reb’s face as if my nose is gushing blood or a worm just slithered beneath my skin. Those words, the image of that bloody message, is seared into my mind. Its involuntary retrieval, as inconvenient as it is, is beginning to seem like the voice of my subconscious. Based on Reb’s reaction to my expression, my subconscious sees it as a warning.
Reb speaks with genuine concern, saying, “I know this has been a lot to absorb. We don’t have to do this all at once. There’s plenty of time. Why don’t we put a pin in this and pick up where we left off tomorrow?”
“You’re right, this has indeed already been a challenging session. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to just get this over with now. Frankly, I already feel numb and that beats having my heart repeatedly steeped in stomach acid with each revelation.”
This appears to meet Reb’s cautious approval. “Alright then, before we continue, do you have any questions about what I’ve shared or any specific questions I have yet to answer?”
“Yes I do, but first I’m intrigued to know who here may be as powerful as Verdonos.”
“I’m afraid that’s a conversation for another time. What’s your other question?”
“Is there a way to know how concentrated my blood is?” The question erupts from my lips before I can stop it.
“Actually, there is. We have devised a test that works quite well for determining our percentage of angelic blood. We already took the liberty of scheduling you for that test tomorrow at nine in the morning. Is that okay with you?”
My gut crumples with his response. It’s the question that has consumed my thoughts more than any other but, until now, seemed impossible to have answered. With the answer so close, I’m not so sure I want to know.
“I’m not sure yet. What if I don’t want to be tested?”
“You don’t have to be. It’s strictly for your own benefit. I know you’re struggling with your identity right now. Answers, the truth, though it may hurt at first, will be the salve that heals your wounds and makes you whole. Take this time to rebuild your foundation and redefine yourself. That’s what this place is for. When you’re ready, you can start training with the others.”
“What kind of training?”
“Honing your Nephilim abilities and learning to fight. That’s an oversimplification, but the point is that we are not merely hosts to the seed. It’s a part of us and carries our unique genetic code. With practice, you can learn to control and direct its activity.”
“Abilities like Mel’s mind-reading trick?”
“Yes, amongst others. I’m actually using one right now, Ted. I have been throughout this conversation. Do you have an overwhelming sense of my honesty despite the fact that my statements defy everything you’ve believed up to this point?”
I say nothing, but it’s obvious that the answer is yes. Although, no matter what he’s about to say, the rawness of this conversation has left me on edge, and I don’t appreciate his secretive use of any Nephilim ability on me.
“You’ve been secretly using some Nephilim ability on me this whole time? Not exactly the stellar honesty that I would’ve expected from an alliance leader. If this is the way you’re going to do things here, maybe I am better off on my own,” I piously declare.
Reb raises his eyebrows, taken aback by my dramatic reaction. “Ted, no one is being deceptive; quite the opposite actually. I’m using the seed within my blood to ‘transmit’ my state of mind in a small electromagnetic field. Basically, I’ve made myself an open book so that you know I can be trusted.”
“What if you weren’t being honest?”
“You would sense it clear as day. All I can do with this skill is make my state of mind transparent. I’m not telling you that I’m being honest, I’m showing you what’s in my heart, my intentions, and they just so happen to be honest.”
The discovery of this ability isn’t all that surprising. I’ve always known that Nephilim use similar tactics to stay hidden by closing ourselves off, but I’ve never considered doing the opposite. My memory wanders back to Jan and how deftly she earned my trust. Sure, I didn’t completely buy it, but I never should’ve bought into it at all. If she knows of this ability, perhaps she used it to make me trust her.
“Reb, is it possible for that ability to be used for deception? What if someone figured out how to transmit a
state of honesty when they were actually being dishonest?”
“It could be possible. We’re still learning about the full potential of our abilities, and there have been all kinds of rumors over the years. We’ve heard of Nephilim reading minds, brainwashing people, and even shooting electricity from their bodies. I don’t put much stock in those stories, but I believe that there is probably a nugget of truth in each of them that’s been greatly exaggerated.”
He pauses but clearly has more to say. After a moment, he continues, “For Jan to have done that to you would’ve required her to lie to the seed within her own veins. In theory, it’s possible. In reality, it would seem impossible. But if some evil Nephilim has figured it out, it would be a dark turning point in this war. They could deceive any human they please as well as the many weaker or untrained Nephilim. They really could subjugate the masses and rule over humanity. Imagine Nephilim generals with armies at their disposal. Hundreds of thousands, even millions of highly trained soldiers worldwide brainwashed into believing we’re terrorists or some kind of subhuman monsters. We wouldn’t stand a chance.”
The burdensome thought weighs visibly on Reb’s shoulders. Their disheartened sagging betrays the outcome as he plays out the scenario in his mind. He muscles down a strained gulp and lifts his gaze to mine. His disarming compassion is replaced with alarmed consternation, and in a weary, ominous tone, he speaks again.
“Ted, do you believe that’s how Jan was able to mislead you?”
The gravity of his question presses me firmly into the worn maroon upholstery. Not only am I not an expert, Reb just drop-kicked my reality with a few simple statements. Now, I feel as though he is relying on me for one of the most valuable pieces of intelligence in his lifetime. It’s obvious that my answer to this question has implications for the future of the alliance and maybe even creation as a whole.
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.” The weight of these revelations about the Nephilim and about my parents starts to wring my heart dry. The protective numbness that gave me strength is giving way to a maddening tingle. I was an orphan, abandoned by my own parents. A divine being of truth, raised on a steady diet of lies. The flood of pain and confusion crashes through my makeshift dam, spilling in streams from my eyes and self-pity from my tongue.
“Reb, I’m sorry, but until a few minutes ago I thought Nephilim could only reproduce with other Nephilim. I thought that we were created this way, not the actual offspring of angels and humans. I thought that I was the biological child of the couple who raised me, and that my one purpose on this earth was to sow people who had irreversibly lost their way. I thought that the Nephilim were all noble beings working toward a common goal. I thought that sowing was the extent of a Nephilim’s power. I thought that I was destined to be alone, but now I’m here being invited to join an alliance that I didn’t know even existed until a couple days ago.”
“Ted, you’re being too har—” Reb attempts to comfort, but I’m not finished.
“What I think is meaningless, and if you’re relying on me for anything critical then this alliance is already doomed. I don’t belong here. Whatever small part of me that’s Nephilim is of little use to me now, much less to your alliance. I don’t know where I belong, but it isn’t here. Your time will be better spent training up those children out there than me. I’ll just be another mouth to feed.” I prop my elbows on my knees and hang my head.
After a long pause, Reb’s hand squeezes my shoulder. “I understand why you feel that way, Ted, but I assure you that there’s a place for you here. I think that’s enough chatting for today. Before you make a final decision, please stay at least one more night. Spend the rest of the day exploring Carver and feel free to introduce yourself to the others, although I doubt you’ll have to. We’re a friendly bunch, always eager to welcome newcomers. If you have any other questions or needs, feel free to ask.”
Struggling to lift himself from the pew, Reb displays an unexpected frailness. He makes enough progress to twist and use the seat back to push himself upright. As he walks in front of me, his steps are slow and deliberate. With a profile view, the curve in his upper back is plainly visible. It isn’t a smooth contour due to an abrupt hitch one third of the way down from his neck, and it’s not simply a hunch. It’s an injury, an old one if I had to guess.
Before he makes the turn down the center aisle he stops in his tracks, disrupting my impolite stare. His once-again gentle eyes have caught my fixation on his back. Embarrassed, I offer a preemptive apology.
“Sorry, Reb. I shouldn’t have stared.”
“It’s an old injury. One from before I joined the alliance actually, back when I was a few years younger than you. I tried to take on a very powerful Nephilim by myself. He was the corrupt mayor of a large city and was a shoo-in for governor. I couldn’t allow that to happen, so I confronted him. He broke my spine, and I haven’t been able to take Nephilim form since. The bones don’t align correctly anymore. I could paralyze myself if I tried.”
I can’t imagine life without the ability to take Nephilim form. Reb’s fortitude to not only live amongst Nephilim who are everything he used to be, but to train them and lead a revolution is astounding. He is that rare, enigmatic leader to which others are drawn in spite of his apparent disqualifications. It drags me toward him and his cause despite my determination to push them away, to be alone.
“That’s awful, Reb. After hearing that story I can tell you that you’re stronger than me, and I admire you for it. You said the injury happened before joining the alliance?”
“Yes. It happened when I was a loner. Everything I’ve achieved as a part of this group, including my position as its leader, has been as a cripple. I may not be as physically capable as Mel or Dan or Pam or even you, Ted, but I am gifted in other ways, and I do my part. That’s all we would ever ask of you too: do your part. Anyway, I don’t mean to harp. Let’s pick this up tomorrow if you’re still here. Deal?”
I nod. “If I decide to stay, it’s a deal.”
We shake hands and exchange a cordial farewell. Reb carefully makes his way out of the church and I settle back onto the pew with a lot of thinking to do.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
After an hour of fruitless meditation in the tranquility of the ramshackle church, I begin my late-afternoon solo tour of the settlement. Warm hues of red and orange soak the exposed west side of each building, standing in sharp contrast to the increasingly nippy air. Each crunching step casts a spell of silence over the nearby crickets, but those in the distance continue their soft chirping in a soothing evening symphony. Carver may not offer the total solitude of the farm, but there’s a certain sense of comfort in knowing that friendly Nephilim are just a shout away.
Thankfully, now that I’ve met with Reb I’m no longer under Drake’s watchful eye. He wasn’t waiting for me when I exited the church and I’m not wasting any time looking for him. A complicated man, he’s not what I would’ve expected from a human who has willingly embraced a role as a Nephilim assistant. His confident, standoffish bravado suggests a naivety about the power we wield, but he’s fully aware of our might and still fancies himself an equal. Even my transition from potential enemy to neophyte ally has only peeled back his arrogant hostility enough to reveal his tangy good nature and irreverent sense of humor. If it’s true that most Nephilim are like Jan, it’s easy to understand his hostile feelings toward us. It wouldn’t even be a stretch to say that I empathize. Still, I suspect there’s more to his story.
The knowledge that my race is not only more corrupt than human beings, but is also the primary source of creation’s dissonance still hovers over my consciousness. It follows in the shadows but has yet to land, take root in my heart, and sew itself into my worldview. Accepting a world in which humans are more noble than Nephilim and are victims in need of deliverance will take time.
My stroll along the sidewalks of Carver proves more therapeutic than my time in the church. The brisk atmosphere invi
gorates my mind and senses, and in that alertness, I feel awake to the truth around me. No matter what I choose to do next, the facts of this decaying world will not change: the Nephilim as a whole have lost their way and I will be powerless to change that as a lone operative. My decision is not between joining the alliance or fighting alone, it is between joining the alliance or giving up the fight altogether.
That perspective makes the decision rather simple because no matter what lies have led me to this point, I could never stand by idly as the world is ravaged. There is, however, a complicating factor, because I also can’t imagine being relegated to the level of an errand boy like Drake. As admirable as his commitment to the alliance is, such a role is unfitting for a Nephilim. I may not have the strength and potency of Mel or some of the others, but I still have too much to offer to be anyone’s sidekick. The blood test will tell me where I stand amongst the others and make my decision obvious.
My mental train derails with an oompff as I bump into a stranger rounding the corner. Forgettable brown hair sweeps across the top of his head, which is all I can see until he steps back and looks up to my face. The young male looks barely twenty and entirely human. His doughy cheeks, round face, and youthful eyes don’t match his lean muscular frame or his rugged scruff.
“Sorry, man. I was cruisin’ and didn’t see you. You must be Ted,” he guesses with a voice that matches his scruff better than it matches his eyes.
“I am. And you are?”
“Call me Doc. So how are you liking it so far?”
“I like it. I’ve never seen anything like it, actually, and I mean that in the best way. Although, I’m not exactly sure where I fit in or what I have to offer,” I admit.
“Well, if a dimer like myself can find a place taking down evil Nephilim monsters, then there’s definitely room for whatever you’re bringing to the table.”
Verity Rising (Gods of Deceit Book 1) Page 21