Of Kings and Demons (11 page)

Walter Johnson held his breath
as he prepared for the worst. He expected to be pummeled, but nothing happened.
Then it occurred to him.
I am in the midst of a Hollywood fantasy flick?
This beast is breathing, but it can’t be real.

He was distracted by blinding
flash of light
that was
followed by a shearing explosion. There was
a whistling in the air and he felt a waft of air touch his right ear before an
arrow plunged into the right side of its chest.

The monster howled in pain and
then collapsed like a felled bull. But the monster recovered quickly and was on
its feet. It pulled out the arrow and roared like an angry hound. The
spleen-splitting decibels beat like a rude shaft of wind against Walter’s face.
He had expected a bull’s run but the beast was rooted to the ground.

The monster’s bloodshot eyes were
fixated on something, behind Walter. The Governor turned around, half praying
that he was not about to see something more grotesque. He heard galloping hooves
before being greeted by a handsome steed, a dark and muscular breed that carried
a handsome mane.

The rider was clad in shiny
robes of ancient times like a warrior. He had the brown complexion of an Asian
and his strong flowing hair was tied in a pony tail. Slung over his right arm
was a beautifully carved bow.

He was the archer.

The breast plate had the emblem
of a winged man, a sword in one hand and a shield in another, imprinted in gold.
He was touched by a sense of familiarity but his mind failed with the details.
The same emblem was carved on the archer’s glimmering boots, which had hived-up
heels at the ankles. The sudden arrival had sent a ripple of light across the
fields.

Meanwhile, Robin and the
surviving security agents had caught up with Walter and took up defensive positions
around him. The governor pushed the agents aside, and ignored Robin’s attempts
to shield him.

Calmly, Walter walked up to the
horse.

 “Governor Walter Johnson!” The
ride spoke first and that silenced Walter.

“Your presence of mind is admirable.

“You felt it?”Walter was
puzzled.

“My name is Jin. Do you
remember me?”

“You are an alien,” Walter
joked

The rider shook his head and
put a finger to his lips. Then he rode his steed up to the winged monster. “Eberhard.
Explain your presence.”

“Jin, bastard slave,
pretentious warrior” The monster had gone buoyant in the air with his wings at
full span.

“Earth is too beautiful for
creatures carved from stone and perched on architecture. You do not belong
here. Stay away from the humans.”

The words infuriated Eberhard, whose
wings beat with increased intensity and churned up a strong draught of wind. He
roared and waved fists.

“Do not
insult my species.”

“Statement of truths,” Walter
added.

“Shut up!” Eberhard bellowed. “The
Angels will not decide the order of things on Earth any longer. Change is
coming.” Eberhard’s eyes sparkled like rubies. He clenched his fists and began to
murmur in a strange tongue.

“What is he doing?” Walter
asked.

“Summoning his army,” Jin
replied

Walter was speechless.

As Eberhard busy, there was a
silence that seemed to last for ages. The trees swayed with intensity and a
cacophony of sounds came from the woods behind the gargoyle.

Then they came. Like flock of
birds, an intimidating horde of winged beings emerged from the woods and seemed
to skid over on the coattails of the winds like parasites. It was a platoon of
gargoyles, each of them a smaller clone of Eberhard. Their siren-like shrieks
pierced the air like arrows. Their life-robbing demeanour brought speechless
gawks to the agents, one of whom passed out upon seeing the demons.

Jin swiftly rode to and picked
up a bewildered Walter Johnson. The move alarmed the security agents so much
that they directed their pistols on Jin.

“He is a … friendly,” Walter said
and the agents shifted their attention to the gargoyles.

“Governor, we have to go,” Jin
said.

“What about them?” Walter asked,
nodding towards the gargoyles.

Jin did not reply. He simply nudged
his horse away from the agents.

“My wife …” Walter remembered
and began to cry.

“Eberhard will not hurt them.
He came for you,” Jin explained. “Moreover, the Governor’s Mansion has been
blessed and protected by a perimeter of Holy Essence.”

“Holy what?” Walter asked.

To which Jin simply winked and
sped off. Eberhard followed with his minions in diligent pursuit.

“Is running away our only
option?” Walter shouted. “Can’t we fight?”

Jin was silent.

“Did you hear me? Should we not
turn around and fight? I am not used to running away.”

Jin smiled. “The avoidance of a
fight requires the same wisdom that which you need to decide when and what to
fight. That is the way of a King of Men.”

Walter remained silent. His
heart pounded like galloping steeds as Eberhard’s shriek seemed just yards
away.

Calmly Jin raised his bow, bent
his head backwards, and twanged the strings. Immediately arrows of bright energy
flew towards the gargoyles and downed a handful. The attack earned an ugly roar
from Eberhard.

Jin swiftly steered his horse
northward, towards the woods. When they were along the edge of the shrubbery,
he brought his steed to a halt. Jin wheeled around to face the coming
onslaught.

“You think this is a good
idea?” Walter asked.

Jin did not reply. Eberhard and
his gargoyles were heading right towards them like a pack of ravenous wolves.

“You have a weapon I could
use?” Walter asked.

“Use your heart, Governor.”

“I just hate moments like
these.” Walter clenched his fists. “And …”

A sudden explosion knocked Walter’s
senses into pieces. From the darkness of the woods, projectiles flew into the
group of gargoyles, which fell like flies sprayed with repellant. Then a huge
net that gleamed as if it were weaved from threads of gold fell over the surviving
creatures and pinned them to the ground.

Walter punched the air in
triumph. “You planned this?”

Jin’s eyes, firm and
unwavering, surveyed the scene as figures emerged from behind the trees and
surrounded the fallen enemies. One of them flashed a thumb, which Jin
acknowledged. It was the leader of the entourage,
Ordo of Tutor of Fides,
senior Defender, Father Michael Bellator.

The priest unleashed streams of
fluid onto the captured gargoyles which unleashed tormenting shrills. In no
time, the Demons had dissolved into nothingness, with an accompanying odor
drifting through the air.

Eberhard, however, was an opponent
of an entirely different class. Dissolution from holy water was not an option
of that he would entertain. Fists clenched, he roared like an angry tiger, and
before men from the
Ordo
could focus their attention on him, the
gargoyle chieftain tore the net apart as if it were paper and flocked to the
skies, his wings in full stretch. The air draught from his wings threw members
of the
Ordo
off balance but Thomas Bellator stood steadfast, shoulders
squared and weapon ready. Then Eberhard disappeared.

“It is gone,” Walter said, a
tone of disappointment lacing his voice.

“Treacherous creature. He will
be back,” Father Bellator said as he approached Walter Johnson.

Jin nodded. “We will worry when
he is back.”

The Angel dismounted and helped
the governor to his feet. “They will be back, Governor.”

Walter struggled to catch his
breath following the hour of whirlwind madness. “Can someone tell me what is
going on here?”

Jin, cool as Arctic ice, spoke.
“They came for you, Governor.”

Walter struggled for words. “They
looked like they came from a studio set. But they are real, very real. They
killed my security detail.”

“I assure you they are not a
product of your imagination,” Jin said and pointed to the deep imprints on the
ground made by Eberhard’s clawed feet. “Real.”

“What are they?”

“They belong to a species that
have hunted your race and your ancestors since thousands of years ago. Look to
your history and images of them, first in caves, then in parchment, and later
in the pyramids, and finally in the churches aplenty. You think the creator of
these art forms thought of them from naught?”

Walter muttered, “They are
real.”

“For centuries they have hunted
the leaders of mankind, people who are called the Kings, and fought the
Angels.”

“Kings? A war between Angels
and Demons?”

Jin nodded. “Kings of Men are
the chosen people, God’s anointed representative mandated to lead the human
race, to helm the civilization. You are one of the chosen ones, Walter.”

Walter was dumbfounded. “Please
carry on.”

“What you saw just now are
soldiers of the Devil, armies from the dark side and minions of Lucifer.
Demons, we call them. They were out to annihilate all Kings and enslave humans.
They were responsible for the attacks on human civilization in the last two
days.”

Walter’s forehead crumpled into
a nasty frown. “And I thought our only enemies are the Russians and terrorists …”
Walter quipped

Jin smiled.

Walter scanned Jin. “You risked
your life for me. I am grateful. Who are you?”

Jin smiled and flexed his
biceps. A blinding flash of blinding light occurred and a pair of wings, white
and saintly, sprang to their full length. Walter and entourage shielded their
eyes and Jin spoke.

“I am your Guardian Angel,
Walter Edmund Johnson.”

Walter’s eyes squinted into
slits of light as he kept silent. 

Jin continued.

“Your knowledge of your future
is forbidden. Revelation today is made under exceptional circumstances. Every
man’s destiny is a divine secret. By being so, the unfolding is spontaneous and
a product of the free will of man and king.

“Why the attack?”

Jin bit his lips “I wished I had
the answer.”

“Is my death is imminent?”

”Your future is still in your
own hands,” Jin said

“Pray I find the strength to
stomach all these.”

Jin nodded and patted Walter on
his shoulder. “You are not alone.”

Maganus gathered the siblings
by the fire, conscious of their shivering fear from their close encounter with
death, despite their controlled exterior. The food and drinks that he had brought
them were barely touched. As he lit his pipe, he stroked his beard. “Do not let
fear destroy your taste buds. Food is one joy of being a human.”

Mathew put on a faint smile,
picked up a food, nibbled but quickly put down the remainder.

“I am sorry. I am not in the
mood to eat.”

Maganus eyed the bruises on the
arm and cut at the lips

“It has been a tough journey?”

Mathew nodded, speechless and
suddenly broke down. His sister grabbed his hands and they shared a moment.

Maganus patted Mathew on his
head.

“It will be fine. I am here.”

Mathew nodded and dried his cheeks
“Fine? I lost my grandparents in the last 6 hours…”

Maganus stroke his beard and
listened with a thoughtful expression.

Mathew shook his head “We were
on our way to see our sick father. My grandmother received a call from the
hospital that his situation is critical. We got lost and when we stopped over
at a junction for a break, those strange beings ambushed us…we”

Mathew paused, a difficult
expression killed them and we had to seek refuge in the woods.”

“They were driven into the
forests. The Demons, all forms of it, familiars, trolls and globins hunted
them.”

Father Bellator stood up and
continued the story.

“I found them at the shrubbery
fifteen minutes trek from here. Bloodied and injured and so brought them here.”

“Glad you came.” It was Sarah
Springs who looked worn-out but carried a smile.

“
Glad
I found you in
time.” Bellator remarked with a smile.

“Then Count Raum arrived?”
Maganus remarked dryly.

“Lord Maganus, he came just
minutes before you did. He pounded the façade with his dark powers. I was at
wits’ end, frankly.” Bellator sighed as the swell on his cheeks looked more
pronounced under the illumination of the bonfire

“You came like the rain after a
drought.”

“Giving flattery is as much a
sin as receiving it but I have to admit I came in time. God’s will.” Maganus murmured
as he looked to the sky.

After saying his prayers, he shifted
himself over to Mathew and Sarah. He placed his fleshy palms on their shoulders
and patted

“It was darkness no doubt. I
will say a prayer for your dead grandparents.”

Mathew was jaded, ashen cheeks
and wounded chin. He spoke with a wariness that went beyond his age.

“You know something? We did not
have time to retrieve their corpse. I was worried for my sister. We just ran.
Was I a coward?”

Maganus shook his head “You
were a hero to keep Sarah alive.”

“Am I ?”

“Yes you were. Courage as in
all kinglings.”

“Kinglings?”

“The young who will be King of
Men, the lineage of leaders that Angels were tasked to protect.”

“You must have been mistaken. I
have been ordinary all my life.”

Maganus chuckled, his laughter
ringing into the chill of the evening.

“Don’t they all say the same
thing when we revealed ourselves to them?”

“Father Bellator mentioned
there is a war between Angels and Demons?”

Maganus nodded. “It was a
tussle that dated back to the first
homo sapiens
. The Demons aimed to claim
the arena of Earth for themselves and we, the Angels, are your allies in this
battle. Our battles formed what you call history. All historical events of
significance are a manifestation of that battle between good and evil.”

Maganus lit his pipe and took a
deep inhale before continuing.

 “There are bloodlines of the
Kings of Men, leaders of your civilization, anointed by God himself and
protected by His soldiers, the Angels. These bloodlines have sprouted legions
of able men and women who grew to be leaders of your civilization. In politics,
military, economic, and cultural fields, these leaders have charted the growth
of human civilization for last few thousands of years. Lord Lucifer, plans to control
this lineage for his selfish purpose. He wants to defeat God in his
enterprise.”

He puffed on his pipe before
continu
ing his tale.

“That started
a race
to control the minds and hearts of men
.
These Demons began a systematic targeting and seduction, and when that
fails, extermination of the leaders of mankind. Your race was on the verge of
extinction until the Guardian Angels, were dispatched to protect and guide
these Kings of Men and the kinglings, the young who will be Kings one day.”

Maganus explained with
patience.

“Their identities were hidden
from the Demons as we guide and groom them. We protect them, in invisibility,
appearing only in times of
severe
danger. Unfailingly, we stand by these
kinglings until they are ready to take their place as the anointed leaders of
their race.”

 Maganus squinted his eyes in
thoughtful narration “This epic war involved some of the most famous names
involved. You know the successful mandates—Charlemagne, Washington, Lincoln. There
were certainly some painful episodes when we lost some Kings to the Demons.”

“What happened then?” Sarah asked.

“The Demons succeeded and there
were much bloodshed, betrayal and destruction. History was altered. You will
never know who the fallen Kings are because they never achieve prominence
but remember the dark ages, the Hundred
Years wars, the world wars and the cold war
.”

“And now this battle comes to
me and my family. Why?” Mathew interrupted.

“This is because you and your
sister are part of the kinglings, Mathew.”

Magnus’s authoritative voice
resonated through the woods like a caressing wave and drowned the fires of
agitation in Mathew. Maganus inhaled deeply as he recollected the dialogue he
had with Gwyneth, before they parted, during which she shared the story about
the Springs’ genealogy. They were her mandate and the full details of their
future were never fully revealed to her. She was to watch, care, and guide the
siblings until the moment for the truth was near.

“I am sorry to inform you that this
is your war. I will be patient. These facts never need to be told to you. Ironically,
the Demons were the catalysts that accelerated your path to the truth. This
step, in a long journey comes to all great leaders—from Alexander to Genghis
Khan to George Washington. Every leader has to take this journey.”

 The siblings were silent.

Mathew drew Sarah closer. “My
father’s illness? Does the Demons has to do with it?”

“Maybe. Your father’s illness
was a trick created by the Demons through a very wicked manipulation of the
dark powers, which can distort the life essence of a human being. Mathew, it
was a bait. ”

Maganus refilled his pipe before
continuing. “This is war between the two sides. Imagine God and Satan is
wrestling on a chessboard in which every move will have far and deep impact for
the entire human civilization. Individuals, Kings of Men, are God’s soldiers.
With no disrespect to these leaders but chess pieces do not always understand
the significance of every move, and that ignorance does not diminish the
significance of their presence in the entire chess game. They are simply
unaware. God decides they do not need to know.”

“I guess I am now in the ‘need-to-know’
phase.” Mathew said.

“Mathew, the knowledge may be
too much for you now and I pray you have the strength to accept it.”

In contrast to Mathew’s broody
look, Sarah was alert and chirpy.

“Can you bring our grandparents
back to life? You are an angel.”

Maganus paused before shaking his
head

“Resurrection, I am afraid is
not a gift I have.”

Sarah dropped her head.

“It is alright then.”

She shook off her
disappointment

Maganus felt he had
administered too heavy of a dose of truth. He dug into his bag and extracted a
flute.

“Some music to mellow the
tension?” Maganus smiled as he begun to play a mellifluous melody that flowed like
silk into the quiet of the night.

Sarah exclaimed suddenly.

“What is it?” A started Mathew
asked as his hands tightened on Sarah’s.

Sarah pointed. “Look.”

Emerging from the woods,
streams of fireflies flowed and formed a halo over the congregation,
reverberating to the melody as Maganus tapped his foot in merriment. As easy he
had summoned them, he sent them dissipating into the woods with a tap of his
flute.

“Wonderful. Thank you,” Sarah giggled
her cheeks bright as the apricots in spring.

”I am glad you enjoyed it,”
Maganus said. He fondled his flute. “I am sorry the revelation has arrived at
such a difficult moment. Circumstances are unusual and were very much forced
upon us. My eloquence also failed me.” Maganus smiled. “I hope I have made
amends, children.”

“Maganus, it is not your fault”
Mathew said.

“Trust me, the next few days
will provide you with the answers you crave.”

“Can you do something else for
me?” Sarah asked.

Maganus laughed. “I will try my
best.”

“Can you fly?” Sarah continued.
“Can you show me?”

Maganus was stumped but
casually nodded.

“When the time is ripe, you
shall see.”

Their conversation was
interrupted by an uptight Father Bellator.

“The rim of darkness is growing—like
a black loop around a chicken neck, tightening with each passing moment.” The
warrior-priest remarked with a sweeping gesture over the landscape.

Maganus look over and saw a
slight fog, which looked like a gloomy veil of evil, drifting through the
woods.

“The
presentia of obscurum
is strong,” Father Bellator added and true
to his words, all day the sunlight was meek and its warmth never truly felt.

Father Thomas was holding a
pair of odd-shaped rims.

“What is that?”

“This is the
Isaac
Spectacles
, named after the intrepid scientist Sir Isaac Newton.”

Mathew studied the antique spectacles
which had wooden frames that were imbued with flowery carvings. The attractive
design belied the history of the odd-looking spectacles, which dated back to
the fifteenth century.

“This piece of relic was discovered
by Isaac Newton when he was Don at Oxford University in a corner of the
library. Very little was known of the origin, but it was taught that the
spectacles were once touched by the great Archangel Michael”

“What does it do?”

“It gives mortals, and
non-saints like us, the powers to gauge the presence of the holy essence, or
the existence of a Demon in open spaces.” Bellator commented and then urged
Mathew to put them on. He obliged but quickly took them off again.

“What is it, Mathew?” his
sister asked.

“I saw all kinds of colour –
the sky is blue, forest is green but all else is brimming red.”

“Red represents the presence of
demons.” Maganus commented.

Mathew put on the glasses
again, and removed them.

“They are growing.”

Maganus studied the landscape
environment with his naked eyes. “Mathew is right – it is a blanket of smoldering
demonic presence.” He bit his lips as eyes rolled to Father Bellator and
grumbled “This no longer looks one bit like the Delaware Reserves. More like
the wastelands of central Europe during the Dark Ages.”

Maganus lit his pipe and said
the grave tone of a ready warrior, “I suspect the Demons had already cordoned
off this area and transformed the entire forest into the
Diabolus Pulvis
.”

“
Diabolus Pulvis
—Demons
Arena,” Bellator explained to the siblings.

Maganus wolf-whistled and
within moments later, the snowy-white Marz appeared. “My friend, it is
Diabolus
Pulvis
. We are under siege. You must find Gwyneth. Do you have the powers
to maneuver through the darkness?”

The snow wolf howled and nodded.
Within seconds, it sped into the woods.

“Gwyneth?” Mathew asked.

“An Angel who had watched over
you ever since you were a child.”

The siblings exchanged looks.

“We had never seen her.”

“Angels are not supposed to
manifest themselves to their charges, Mathew. These circumstances in which you
can see me are unique. The Demons are in a rampage.”