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I know her," Daniel, another fallen angel says before Abaddon can lash out angrily again. "I saw her, the day Raphael severed your neck.." this last part he says carefully, not wanting to embarra.s.s and ergo anger the already testy Archangel before them.
"She was sitting on a rock in the middle of the rice paddy fields, and I just a.s.sumed her a mere son of man," Daniel proceeds.
"Aye, now I remember her too. But.. she didn't seem touched in any way. She didn't even seem to notice us.."
"You forget that sons of man are masters at lies and treachery."
"Indeed, indeed."
"I remember her too," Samael now speaks up. "When we fought the Archangel and my nemesis, Azrael. They'd been attempting to lead her into the Epitome for protection."
"Is she the same son of man.."
"The very same," the fallen angel of death says with certainty. "Her soul bears the very same print."
"Well then, at least we now know we hold the upper hand. The divine must be desperate, forced to rely on a human to save them, Azazel, another fallen angel says. The other angels laugh in unison, except for the hundreds of clone soldiers that remain standing ramrod straight in their positions, emotionless and at attention.
What do we do, now that they are free, Archangel? Samael, the large warrior-built angel with devilishly good looks, asks with his low husky voice.
We hunt them, dear brother. We hunt them down and destroy them! How much longer can they stay hidden behind an Epitome created by a little human girl? He mocks.
We hunt them across the worlds if we have to, like they hunted us and our children. We become their worst nightmares. We terrorize their conscience by day and hunt them every night. What is that for payback?
d.a.m.n good payback, I say," Samael says with a c.o.c.ky smile playing on his charming lips.
"What is that for payback?" The Archangel turns to the smallest angel among them, yet probably the most dangerous of them all.
"I say It is about time we settled the score! She replies with a confident smile, playing with a fireball in her hand. Nuriel, or the fire princess as she had been referred to back home, is an expert manipulator of the fire element, as well as possesses other gifts of the dark arts. She is the worst woman to scorn, and as that has a very big bone to pick with Raphael for what he had done to her over thirty thousand earth years ago.
His comrades cheer at her words, stomping their feet in agreement, their thuds resounding loudly across the polished wooden floor they stand on.
But first, we shall feast and build up our spirits. Call in the humans. Tell them to bring in the food and drink. We celebrate tonight, brothers, basking in the memory of the terror we, the fallen, reigned upon the self-righteous divine angels. More cheering ensues.
As for you, my dear soldiers, I know you prefer to celebrate in more savagely ways. You are hereby permitted to scour the world and do unto humans as you see fit. Cheers and roars now arise from the ranks of the Divine Army, as the mult.i.tude of dark winged creatures begin to separate into groups and fly out of the hall.
The destroyer looks around triumphantly as the last of the identical soldiers fly out of the ma.s.sive hall they are a.s.sembled in. Due to the written laws they call the Principles of Divinity, he can never give a direct order for mankind to be harmed. The Principles of Divinity are a set of laws pa.s.sed by the Heavenly a.s.sembly that govern all beings in the universe, angels included.
The vague order he's just given is a loophole that ensures that the Divine Army attacks mankind. The Divine Army is a violent war-mongering lot, that lives for blood, death, and instilling fear and pain. A free order to entertain themselves is similar to ensuring that they reign h.e.l.l on earth until called upon to stop. Now that would definitely draw out the weakened divine angels from their hiding place.
He turns away and heads back towards the large modern banquet halls where twenty two of his followers are now a.s.sembled around the long dining table, gouging themselves in wine served by the large human staff around. Another dozen or so waiters rush about laying the tables and serving the food that's disappearing almost as soon as it lands on the table.
The fallen Archangel looks at the setting, unable to stop the melancholy that settles into his heart. One very important angel is missing- Hanael. Unlike the rest, who think she'd been released while they still rotted in prison, Abaddon believes that she's out there, still waiting for him. Hanael may not be the most faithful of angels, but she never wavers from a course. She wanted this as badly as he does, to ensure the ultimate princ.i.p.ality of heavenly beings over all life form, earthlings or otherwise. She wanted to amend the set Principles of Divinity just as badly as he does, and a few thousand human years in prison, starved of Essence, wouldn't change that. Hanael is still out there, and he would find her.
He flies over to the large seat at the very head of the table, picks up a delicate wine gla.s.s and raises it above his head. All talking stops, and even the drugged-looking humans instantly stop what they are doing and turn their eyes towards him.
To a new dawn! He says, and all his comrades call, "hear, hear!" While raising their gla.s.ses to salute his toast.
Chapter 2.
Caroline, you may let go now, comes the calm voice from somewhere above my head.
We are safe for now, the voice goes on to add.
I daren't believe it. It could be a trick. Just a moment ago we were under attack by more than a hundred angels. How could we be safe so soon after?
We are safe, Caroline, he insists. It is the softest I have ever heard him speak. Relax, let me heal you. You are hurt. When I try to relax though, I become aware of the sharp pain emanating from somewhere along my arm and resonating outwards to the rest of my body.
Oh yeah, my hand- I broke it with the fall in the Epitome, I recall.
With my eyes still clamped shut, I begin to take in deep breaths, trying to relax my tightly clenched muscles. Warm hands immediately cover my mid-section, and the warmth courses through my body healing me. Reviving me.
I keep my eyes closed long after the pain on my arm dwindles away, reveling in the warm heat from those large hands on my stomach. The hands soon pull away though, turning to heal an angel beside me. I choose to keep lying there on the cold stone floor, my eyes still tightly shut.
"Feed, and hydrate yourselves everyone. We all need to recover from the days spent in Tartaros," I hear Raphael's voice again, talking to the others in the room with us. A shuffle of footsteps and loud wing flaps soon ensue, as the creatures around me start into a flurry of activities. I'll just keep lying here, I think. I am in no hurry.
Caroline, he says softly to me, brushing my hair off my face. His actions are so unexpected that I force my eyes open, looking up into the clear blue eyes boring into mine.
We have to leave soon. We cannot stay here much longer. She.. The voice breaks off, and I am absolutely astounded. Anything that can cause this great stallion of a warrior to lose words, is something I would not want to be around for.
She betrayed us, he goes on to say with difficulty. I trusted her. My brother. She knows everything, our hiding places, our plans, our protocols.. But she.. he breaks off, still looking at me intently as though he is waiting for a reaction from me.
I don't.. I don't know what to do.. It is all too much for me to bear, to watch the great warrior this broken. I raise my hand, that until a moment ago had been a source of searing pain, to trace his face.
His face is lined with grit and dried blood, and I can just make out scabs and soft dark splotches on his face and body, as ill-healed wounds begin to re-repair themselves.
Even Raphael the healer had been unable to heal himself properly in that dungeon! I shudder to imagine the kind of wounds that had been inflicted on him to finally be able to capture him and imprison him in that h.e.l.l-hole. It must have been anguishing, to heal from all those wounds at the pace of a human. He's probably never had to live through that, having to heal the normal way living creatures on earth do. At least most of us can now get strong painkillers for our pains as we heal. He underwent it all consciously, alone and probably with no hope of ever being rescued. What else could he have to hope for, with just little human me as the rescue team? I let my hand drop down to his strongly-set jaw, scratching it gently as I keep holding his eyes to mine, willing it to relax a little.
Are you there, Divine? Help me, Archangel! He cries out with finality.
My hand freezes against his warm face. What am I to do now? He knows I am just a human with a few special powers, right? I am not his comrade Gabriel. I have her Essence, but that's it.
I continue tracing his face, the motion seeming to ease his breathing. I am honored, and at the same time feel the overwhelming pressure, at the fact that he has mistaken me for his brother.
I continue touching him, our contact seeming to ease both of our nerves, as I try think of something brilliant or important to say, something worthy of an Archangel.
Feed and hydrate, I say to him, using the same words he had used to order the other angels just a few moments ago. How original!
I'll create us another shield, and we will find a new place to stay. I continue, still holding his eye contact, hoping to rea.s.sure him with the fake confidence in my eyes. I am pleasantly surprised at the flicker of hope that crosses his blue eyes, as he looks adoringly at me.
I am starting to question the relationship he has with his brother, Archangel Gabriel. Angels call each other brother because they do not differentiate each other by gender. Gabriel is female, Michael's sara, Penuel had told me, which I suspect means she is with him with him. I deduct with a tinge of jealousy that Raphael and Gabriel's relationship might be more than just that of colleagues, considering how he is looking at me now. He cares for her, deeply, and the idea seems to enrage me. What is wrong with me?
I note with disappointment as something shifts in his eyes - our special moment is gone. I feel the strengthening Essence swirling around him, even before he lets himself float upwards off the ground, hovering over me. The Archangel is back, and he is rejuvenated again. His moment of weakness is gone, and so is the sensitive and vulnerable side of him I have just witnessed.
He helps me up to my feet, and leads me through a stone door to a bathroom. These caves are almost similar to the one they had taken me to before, however the walls here are a brilliant white, instead of the yellow glow of sandstone of the previous cave. Devil's cove, that is what they'd called this cave. He leads me to a sink by the wall, and I immediately begin scrubbing my face ruthlessly, upon seing its unfortunate state from the image staring back at me in the mirror above the sink.
We have no time for you to take a full bath, he says to me apologetically, standing beside me as though to guard me from an imminent attack. I barely have time to answer myself before I feel another surge of warmth envelop me, as another angel enters the tiny bathroom.
Caroline? I spout out the water I am gurgling before answering. Camael? Why is she talking to me so softly as though she reveres me? Wonders really never do end, I think to myself.
Yeah? I answer her when I straighten my back again from the sink, peering at her image in the mirror before me.
I just want to thank you so much for saving me. You had no reason to. You could have easily left me there, considering my att.i.tude towards you before, she raps off meekly, speaking so fast that I doubt I hear her correctly. How could I have left her there? The doors exploded open. Plus wasn't she the one that carried me out.
Uhh..? I start in confusion. You are welcome. But I must tell you the door was wide open for all to leave. It is I that ought to thank you for carrying me out. Some ungrateful people here just brushed past me! I say accusatory at Raphael, who looks back at me apologetically.
It is hard not to chuckle at how young he looks at this moment. How old is he anyway? I mean physically - his body, for I know his soul has been around since the very beginning of time. I cannot help thinking, however, that he does not seem that much older than I am at this moment. I turn my eyes away from unabashedly examining his face, choosing instead to examine the image of the wild mess that is my hair.
In Tartaros, one cannot leave unless their name is called, even if the doors are open, Raphael explains as I tug at one of my curls to entangle it.
"Oh, I did not know that." I almost did not call out her name at all. Not because I dislike her, which I do, but because I hadn't known that I had to call out her name. I do not like her, but I would never willingly condemn anyone to that dark dungeon.
I reach out to tug at another entangled curl, but freeze in motion when I catch the image in the mirror of Raphael reaching out too, to one of my curls, and tugging at it. I stare back at him spellbound through the mirror as a very unfamiliar charge rushes through my body.
Never before had I thought that such a meaningless touch could cause so many feelings to flow through me. As he pulls his hand away slowly, I note to my disappointed that the action had not affected him as it had me, his image stoically looking back at me.
I clear my throat uncomfortably before lifting my eyes back up at Camael's image behind us. I do not fail to notice the eyes narrowed at me. Now there is the Camael I know, I think to myself in mocking as I attempt to re-master my fluttering emotions.
Ariel.. I start, remembering how I'd called out to him and Uriel over and over again, but got no answer. With Uriel, I understand that she wasn't in the caves, having been told that she is the traitor. Sweet gentle Uriel, with the beautiful bronze wings that I had come to trust and look up to for a source of comfort among this pragmatic lot. That, I never would have expected.
He is heartbroken at Uriel's deception. He was temporarily blinded by his heartbreak and did not wish to leave the imprisoning pit, Raphael puts in, his voice once again chilled.
I nod in understanding, not at all surprised at Ariel's state of mind. Raphael's tone sounds though as if he does not understand how heartbreak could numb one's desire to live. He clearly has never loved. Or never loved and lost, I think revising my judgment when I remember my suspicions that he is in love with Archangel Gabriel. The thought dampens my spirits again, and I quickly brush it away.
I wipe my face with the hand towel draped on a rail by the sink, bracing myself for the most important question at this point.
The fallen. I say it as a statement, but we all know it to be the biggest question there is. The Archangel wraps his fingers around my upper hand much gently than I would expect off him, and leads me out of the bathroom, across the living area to the kitchen island on the far end. I grimace when I note how my dusty and b.l.o.o.d.y shoes leave dirty prints across the floor where I trudge. The angels are just as filthy as I am, however they do not cause as great a mess as I do because they are almost always hovering in the air.
I settle on one of the seats by the dining table beside Ariel, my beautiful Sun-prince, and place my arms around him. His beautiful dark curly hair is still braided into cornrows behind his head. However they are not as neat as they had been before he'd been captured, as some of his hair has slipped out of the braiding.
Ariel does not respond to my touch, instead keeps sitting ramrod straight, his eyes staring straight ahead at nothing. I do not pull away, for he has not attempted to shove me away either. He is my friend. He has always been one of the few angels that have been most kind to me, and is in actuality the first boy I ever kissed.
I feel especially connected to him, for he had been the first angel to tap into my Essence and transfigure into his human form. I granted him my grandfather's brown eyes and the beautiful sun-kissed skin tone. The angels had later explained to me that the human forms I transformed them into were a representation of what I saw in their souls. Their Essence - the emotions, energies and traits they communicated to me. I must have granted Ariel my grandfather's eyes because my soul felt we two would be friends and I could trust him. I lean into him even more, despite his cold stance, as Raphael begins to talk in their angelic tongue.
Terrible things have happened, but the worst hasn't yet occurred, my brothers, he starts, looking deep into the eyes of those around. It is of utmost importance that we stop the fallen now more than ever, and protect our portal. I wince at this. I thought he was past referring to me as an object, after all we've been through together. Oh well!
A cup of tea is pushed my way by one of the twins, and the other pushes a cookie jar too. Thanks! I mouth to them, and they beam back at me. Camael is sitting by my other side, and for the first time since I met her, I feel her positive energy towards me. She must have really thought I would leave her in that dreadful prison!
You are looking stronger now. Why don't you challenge Archangel Abaddon for the Divine Army? I ask this while noting the slight warm glow that is now covering his perfectly toned body, that had appeared sickly pale and dull when I released him from Tartaros.
Now that my attention is fully on him, I can hardly hide the blush that creeps up my features as I study his beautiful body across the table from me; his lean chiseled face, ice-cold blue eyes begging to be thawed, his firm mouth needing to be softened. His muscular neck that meets up with his broad shoulders, his warrior arms that now rest on the table. I cannot stop myself from imagining how it would feel if those fingers were to roam all over my body, teaching me a new tune to dance to; or how it would feel to run my lips over his ripped stomach and..
My thoughts are halted by a loud flap as his wings uncoil from his back and splay out behind him in majestic splendor. I gasp, my mouth forming a soft O, as I look into his eyes in confusion. Had there been a spark in those icy pools before he blinked?
The roaring laughter from the twins snaps me out of it, and I turn to them in confusion.
Wow, you want him bad! Ambriel exclaims at my expense, and his brother manages to laugh even louder at this.
I.. I.. I start in confusion and embarra.s.sment, my face burning so hot that I want to hide myself under the table. I'd momentarily forgotten the side effects of the divine Essence I possess. It means that the other angels will always feel my emotions. They know I'd been turned on as I stared at the Archangel, and worst still, is that he'd felt it too. I daren't look up at the face that I know will have disgust or contempt written on it. Had he not been revolted the last time he had felt my strong attraction to him?
To answer your question, Caroline, he continues with the same detached tone as before. He does not even bother to acknowledge what has just transpired. I am both grateful, and disappointed at his indifference. I daren't lift my head up to face him.
The Divine Army will never follow me now. They just watched me being thrashed by Abaddon the destroyer to near pulp. I doubt I will ever appear stronger when compared against him, in their eyes.
That is silly. You are the strongest being I ever met, I manage to whisper softly, my head still bent over my cup of tea. I bite myself when I realize what I have just said. My face burns hot behind my dark features yet again, and I just wish I could disappear through the floor. I feel their stares on me. Why won't they stop looking at me? Why won't he keep talking?
Can the brotherhood defeat the whole Fallen army? I force myself to ask, my eyes still staring into my dark chai so as to avoid their what I know to be amused looks at my tactless infatuation with their leader.
Over time, he says. Over a very long time. But I doubt we can do it alone. We'll have to scour the earths to find other heavenly beings to aid us in our course. They must be in hiding. The divine angels are spread out while the fallen are fighting as a unit. They would know better than to engage them individually.
A disturbing thought crosses my mind, so I raise my head slowly to look up at him before I ask.
What are the fallen doing now? Surely they cannot just be relaxing around waiting for the divine angels to make a move! They are winning now, and will be itching for a fight.
The pensive looks on the faces looking back at me cause my heart to pound faster and louder.
They are trying to lure us out. This is said by Camael beside me, so I turn to face her. They are ordering the Divine Army to hurt the humans.
You have to stop them! I rage, jumping out of my chair. None of them however appears moved by my pa.s.sion, for they remain seated, sipping their teas casually.
I thought angels cannot stand attacks on humans, I say again, remembering something the watchers Penuel and Araqiel had said to me before. We'd been hiding, pinned down in the Epitome in Rundskov Park. The fallen angels had then ordered the army to rage war on humans so as to draw out the angels in the Epitome. It worked, for the watchers had been unable to resist the urge to protect the humans.
A dark cloud settles over my thoughts, for my father and grandparents live not too far away from the park. Had they been the ones terrorized by the army? Or maybe the army had attacked Snderbirk, the town where I attend school, and where most of my new friends live.
I try hard to rid my head of the dark thoughts, choosing instead to believe that all is well. Surely I have built some good karma by saving this lot.
We can't, but we can fight the urge to help when we have a greater mission than protecting humans. Raphael speaks quietly, and I fight every urge to hurl myself at him and claw at his stupid beautiful face. So to them saving innocent lives is not as important. It is amazing the wide range of raging emotions he can evoke in me in a matter of minutes.
What do you mean? Penuel and Araqiel couldn't fight the urge.. I start pa.s.sionately, trying to stop my hands from shaking due to my quick rising anger.
They are watchers! Their primary role is to protect humans. The cold note with which he speaks drives me to near madness.
My mother, my father.. I start almost incoherently, my vision blinded by hot burning tears of anger. I risked my life to help you out of that prison, and you would let my loved ones get hurt? I cry out, brushing at my hot tears angrily so as to better see their faces. I am so astounded by the calm faces that look back at me, that I do not hesitate to pick up my half empty cup and hurl it and its contents at the Archangel's face. He swerves away easily and gracefully, and the cup crushes against the stone wall behind him. I am so angry now, that my whole body is shaking.
I will not sit here drinking tea and strategizing with these ungrateful monsters that won't even bother to check on my family! I think to myself as I get off my chair and head towards the continuous stone walls curved around us.
Where do you think you are going? The calm cold voice asks. I do not bother to answer, running my hands instead against the continuous stone walls, looking for a crevice or nook. Anything that can open into a door. I plan on going by myself to save my parents even if it means trekking across half the world.
I finally feel something, and when I push, it begins to give way. No sooner have I begun to push the heavy door to a small crack than a body pins my hands at my sides and pulls the door shut. I would know that scent anywhere.
I have to make sure my family is okay, I grit between my teeth as I wrestle futilely against the Archangel.
We cannot let you do that, he says to me. The Fallen will capture you!