Confronting the Fallen (16 page)

“But how? Okay, maybe he was out
of line questioning God, but that isn't evil, is it? Doesn't everyone
do that, now and then? I'm sure I have.”

“Yes, you have, Chris.”
Sariel looked stern for a moment and then grinned. “And no, it
isn't evil. It is very human of you, considering the life you've
lived over the past few years. But for my brother, his doubts simply
grew. He watched, as we all did, as life began in the Universe.
Crude, single cell organisms gave way to complex ones. Plants
appeared, followed by animals. We of Heaven were enthralled. But my
brother? He was insulted, disgusted. 'We are perfect,' he would say.
'So why waste our interest and passions on these pathetic and
imperfect lifeforms?' He felt superior to our Father's creation. And
then came the moment when everything changed.”

As they were walking, Chris noticed
that the path they took over the plain was leading to what seemed to
be a drop-off, perhaps the edge of a cliff. Sariel said nothing but
Chris watched anxiously as they continued to march toward the sudden
drop.

“Our Father summoned us, his
first born sons. He wanted to show us something new, something that
He said would be wondrous, that would increase the glory of Heaven
and bring more souls into Creation. Michael and I were intrigued,
excited. But our brother was suspicious. 'More souls? What do we need
with more souls?' he asked. 'We have angels innumerable in Heaven. Is
that not enough?'”

Sariel looked mournful and Chris was
listening closely. What could the devil have possibly done? They
stopped for a moment, about fifty yards from the approaching drop.
Chris glanced up at the sky. He hadn't really noticed how odd it
looked. There were no clouds and the sky was a uniform, pearly gray
in color. It matched the sad, sere landscape and was a bit
depressing.

Sariel had been looking off into the
distance, perhaps gathering his thoughts before continuing the story.
He caught Chris' eye and Chris was surprised to see tears in his
eyes. He wanted to say something comforting but no words came to
mind. Sariel just smiled and seemed to understand. He continued his
story.

“Our Lord did not answer my
brother's questions, nor did I expect Him to. God does not explain
himself and does not need to. Instead He led us into the material
world, across galaxies, past black holes and wonders innumerable.
Until we finally reached a small, unremarkable planet that had only
just come into being. The world was shaken by immense storms,
continuous eruptions from volcanoes, massive earthquakes. There was
no life present, no water except steam, no sky except for the stars.
In other words, it was a new world just coming into its own. And the
Lord directed us to enter the physical plane, to become beings of
flesh and not just of spirit.” He looked keenly at Chris. “Of
course, we had done this many times, become physical beings to
experience the wonders of the many worlds that existed across the
Universe. But my brother had never done this. He found it offensive.
But God had commanded it and so he joined us in the realm of matter.
And we stood there, the three archangels and God Himself, looking
very much as humans do now. Two legs, arms, eyes. My brothers and I
were winged as we always had been.” As Chris began to speak,
Sariel shook his head. “Don't ask me why we were created that
way, Chris. But, whether in spirit form or matter, we angels look the
same. And so we stood there and the Lord Himself took shape, looking
as we did but wingless. And we observed this world in turmoil and
wondered why we were there.”

Sariel reached up and wiped his eyes
and Chris wondered why he was so emotional. Crying was not something
Chris did, not for years. It showed weakness and weakness on the
streets was a signal for the wolves to move in.

“And then our Father told us of
His plan. 'Here, on this little world, one day, will rise a race of
beings. Formed as we are formed now, they will become sentient. They
will form bonds of family. They will love and live and die. And when
they die, those I deem worthy will be elevated and join my angels in
Heaven.” Sariel's voice quickened and he smiled through his
tears. “Michael and I were overjoyed. God's love would be
multiplied even more! We would have new brothers and sisters and
Heaven would become ever larger and more magnificent. We were so
engrossed in this revelation that neither of us noticed the effect it
had on our brother.” He pushed his hair back off of his face
impatiently. “He was enraged. I realized after the fact what
had happened, what he must have been thinking. 'God was allowing
beings of matter, imperfect, flawed bits of nothing to join the ranks
of the immortals. How dare He?' Our Father was standing before us,
looking out over the explosions of lava and the steaming earth. Even
in mortal form, His light was not diminished; He shone like a star in
His fleshly form. And then I saw my brother, whom I had loved through
time immemorial, sidle up to my Father. He extended his hand and
there appeared within it a weapon.” Sariel eyes widened and
Chris knew that he was reliving the moment as though he were still
there. His face was flushed and the look of disbelief and betrayal
was heart-breaking.

“A weapon. Never had I seen an
angel wield a weapon before. But in his hand he held a dagger,
glowing red like molten steel. And as our Lord looked out over the
Earth, my brother raised this dagger to strike Him down.”
Sariel shook his head and blinked several times. He stared at Chris.
“I had never held a weapon before. No angel had ever committed
a violent act. But seeing this treachery, I reacted without thinking.
In an instant, I called forth a weapon of my own. Forged from my fear
and rage, I raised a flaming sword above my head and lunged at my
brother. He turned, swifter than thought, but could only fold his
wings across his body to shelter himself from my blow. And though I
tried to pull back, my sword sliced across him and his wings lay
severed at his feet. With a scream of agony, he leaped forward and
raked his hand across my face.” Sariel touched the three scars
that ran jagged from his brow to his chin. “And with his dagger
blazing, he slashed my left wing and...crippled me.”

Sariel was weeping now. Chris wanted to
comfort him, this being who looked so much like himself, but he
didn't know what to say. How could anyone conceive of such a crime?
Finally, Sariel wiped his eyes and continued his story.

“God had turned at the very
instant of the attack and, before we could continue our battle, if we
even would, He drew us back into our spiritual forms and instantly
transported us to Heaven. And there we stood, Michael, who stared in
shock and disbelief at what had occurred, myself, now a maimed and
broken thing and my treacherous brother, more crippled than I, in the
midst of the Heavenly Host who could only look upon us and weep.”
He must have noticed Chris' look of confusion. “Yes, Chris. Our
injuries were mirrored upon our spirit forms as they had been on our
mortal ones. A human may suffer attack, be injured and disfigured and
be whole again after death, but an angel is not body and soul
together. We are a single entity. Harm us in the physical world and
you harm us in the spiritual world as well.”

“But couldn't God heal you? I
mean, He's God, right? There isn't anything He can't do.”

Sariel smiled sadly. “And now I
ask you to remember how my brothers and I were formed. We were
created from the Lord's own essence, His body if you will. Any other
creature could be healed, but God is eternal. He has no need to heal
Himself and so He could not heal us. That is a simplistic
explanation, I know, but it will have to do for now. And so, we stood
before Heaven and before our Creator. And He passed judgment on us.
To the Angel of the Morning he said 'Son of my body, you are not
worthy of Heaven. Evil is your only legacy. You wish dominion over
imperfect beings? So be it. I grant you your kingdom and name it
Hades. Go forth and rule it as you see fit. Fill it to the brim with
beauty or make it hideous. But Heaven is closed to you forever.”

Chris was listening, fascinated. Again,
Sariel was reliving the moment but his face didn't reflect
satisfaction or anger; he was simply sad, almost bereft.

“For the last time, my beloved
brother...crippled, murderous, proud...looked around at Heaven. He
seemed to be trying to absorb and store the memory of its splendor
against a bitter future. And then he raised his head, refusing to
look at our Father, and called out: 'All of you who love me, my
brothers and sisters! Who would come with me into dismal exile? Step
forth into glory, or remain forever under the rule of a imperfect and
pathetic God!' I looked around at the legions of Heaven, convinced
that none would follow an angel who had betrayed God. But I was
wrong. Slowly, hesitantly, in small groups or alone, angels stepped
forth from the multitudes. No archangels thankfully, but untold
numbers came and stood by my traitorous brother. He finally looked at
our Father. 'Remember this moment, Father. You shall see us again,
when we storm the gates of Heaven and take Your crown from You. And
when that moment comes, Creation will once again be what it was meant
to be...pure and unsullied by the animals You would bring into its
folds.'”

Sariel sighed softly and looked at
Chris almost in wonder. “Imagine saying that to God, the One
who created him. Our Father did not answer, but with a look swept
them all away to their new 'kingdom'. And then He turned to me. 'What
judgment should I render unto you, my loyal and impulsive son?' He
asked me. Heaven held its breath and Michael looked at me with such
heartbreak in his eyes.”

“Wait a minute!” Chris said
in outrage. “Judgment? You protected Him! Satan was going to
strike Him down and you saved Him! Why should you be punished?”

“Did I, Chris? Can you really
harm God? I didn't know, of course. He was in fleshly form and He was
being attacked by one who was of the same essence. That is why I
intervened. But in the countless years since, I've wondered. Did I
truly save my Father? Or was it a test finally? A test of the three
firstborn. If so, only Michael proved worthy. I had struck down my
brother. Yes, for good cause, perhaps. But I committed the first act
of violence that Creation had ever known. How could I not be judged?”
He sighed again. “My Lord did not punish me though. I was left
to choose my own fate. And so, knowing that my mad, infinitely
powerful brother would one day attempt an attack on Heaven, I chose
to come here.” Sariel looked around at the desolate plain. He
began walking again toward the drop-off and Chris hurried to catch
up.

“Here? But Sariel, where are we,
really?”

They finally reached the edge of the
cliff and looked down hundreds of feet. Chris felt a violent sense of
vertigo and had to step back for a moment until the dizziness passed.
Below him was what looked like a beach leading from the base of the
cliff several hundred yards to an endless sea. But the water was
frozen. Splashing waves and plumes of froth caught in an instant of
absolute cold, looking like finely made crystal sculptures, stretched
out to the horizon. Along the bottom of the cliff were an endless
line of colorful tents, pennants raised above them flapped in the
constant wind. There were tiny figures gathered around the tents,
sitting, standing, walking. And a line of these figures streamed
constantly from the cliff to the frozen water's edge and back again.
The rows of beings standing at the line where the sea met the shore
stretched out of sight to Chris' left and right

He caught his breath as he narrowed his
eyes and tried to see more details of the people below. They were
winged! They were...”

“My God, Sariel. They're angels!”
Chris gasped.

“Yes, my friend. Angels. As my
wicked brother had those who loved him more than Heaven itself, so
did I. Those below followed me into my self-appointed exile. I did
not ask them to do this. Indeed, I begged them to stay with our
Father. But they chose to come regardless. And now they stand an
endless watch on the shores of the Frozen Sea. Waiting.”

Chris asked the obvious question.
“Waiting for what?”

Sariel turned and looked back the way
they had come. He pointed and Chris followed his gaze. He let out a
faint cry. Beyond the immense plain of dust and decay was a horizon
where a range of mountains loomed up higher than any he had ever
seen. How did I not see those, he wondered. And where the mountains
met in the middle of the horizon was a gap, filled with a silver
light of such purity that Chris felt tears start in his eyes.

“The gates of Heaven, Chris. We
guard the gates of Heaven.” Sariel looked back over the Frozen
Sea. “And from there, one day will come the demonic hordes of
my fallen brother. For that way lies the gates of Hell. And this,”
he glanced around dismally. “This is Purgatory. My home almost
since the beginning of time. My punishment and my duty all in one.”

Chris tried to sort out what he was
hearing, what he was seeing. It was too much, too fast. He couldn't
put it all together.

“Purgatory? This place? But I
thought that Purgatory was where souls went who were neither pure
enough to enter Heaven nor evil enough to enter Hell?”

Sariel's expression was exquisitely
sad. “And so we are. Exactly. But not souls, Chris. Angels.
Unwelcome in Heaven, too good for Hell. That describes us very well
indeed.” He made a visible effort to get himself under control.
“But time runs short, Chris. You've been gone too long as it
is. You needed to see this though, to understand the stakes in the
coming war. You see, Earth is where it all began. The devil was born
there, the rift between Heaven and Hell, angels versus demons. Earth
was the starting point. And because Creation works in a balanced way,
the end must also start with Earth. My brother has to destroy your
world to create a gate into Purgatory. And if he does, I do not know
if my legions will be able to stop him.”