Rise of the Fallen (8 page)

“The armies are gathering. The battle for Kish is happening.”

One of the other angels flew out of the Hall of Vision and quickly returned with many others. Validus resumed scanning with the portal as the angels gathered around. Outside, word of the battle for the last righteous city of earth spread quickly.

“Validus,” Handerul called, “put your vision on the dome.”

Validus touched his plates at precise points, and the space below and above the dome of the Hall of Vision became alive with the same view that was on his portal, only one hundred times the size.

He swept around the perimeter of the city, and the view was unnerving. Forces were gathering—hundreds of thousands of angels and demons in one place for this last stand of righteousness. The Hall of Vision filled with angels of all orders: messengers, carriers, and ministers. All but the warriors. They were all on earth, gathering for what could be their last great battle.

Validus was concerned for Cadriel. He had survived centuries and done well under Danick’s command, but what was happening now seemed … overwhelming. He wanted to find his friend, but all of heaven was watching, so instead he focused on the actions of the twelve remaining commanders, and especially Commander Danick.

If ever Validus was encouraged by the war for earth, it was while watching Commander Danick lead his men. Danick was of the One Hundred. Validus had watched all the commanders, including General Jorill, but it was Commander Danick that Validus found to be the most brilliant tactician and warrior. He was grateful that Cadriel was serving under him.

Validus had noticed a peculiar tactic of Commander Danick’s that made no sense at all, at least at first. Danick had plotted the lineage of hundreds of family lines on parchment he translated from the physical world. Validus tried
to make sense of how he chose which lineages to track and which to abandon, but he could find no logical reason behind his choices.

Until now. It seemed more than a coincidence that Commander Danick was the one responsible for the last city and the last region to fall to the evil hands of General Tarsis. As the collapse of righteous lineages occurred, Validus memorized those that Danick traced. The families of Roabom, Terillis, Melisichem, Alohm, and Lamech remained. And of those lines, Validus counted 213 men, women, and children.

All but 12 lived in the city of Kish, and the rest lived in the surrounding region. It was as if Commander Danick were looking for someone.

The Hall of Vision filled with thousands of angels, all now grasping the significance of this moment. Above the hall, many thousands more hovered in flight, watching the image of the battle for Kish vividly projected upward from the dome.

Validus swept across the city that looked to be on the verge of complete anarchy. He briefly hovered near the city center, where Kish sentinels fought to control riots. The consulate was surrounded by a mob, and the prefect and the city elders hid inside with terror on their faces.

Validus swept out from the city and across the gathering dark forces of the Fallen. There he was, General Tarsis, Apollyon’s first and a dauntless demon of great power, his unquenchable quest for evil rivaled only by Apollyon himself. He stood atop the hill south of the city, glaring down on his last battle. Validus closed in on Tarsis until the entire dome filled with his evil countenance. The angels of heaven recoiled, both those above and those below the great dome of the Hall of Vision.

“What is the meaning of this?” boomed a thunderous voice.

The portal froze displaying the grotesque visage of Tarsis on the massive dome glass above. Michael and Gabriel hovered in the air above the solemn assembly of angels, their wings white and great, beating in unison. A holy glare from Elohim’s highest fell on the angels below them as the Hall of Vision fell still and silent.

Validus trembled, stepping away from the portal.

“It is my doing,” he said with as much courage as he could muster, but his voice quavered. All the other angels stepped back and away until he faced the terrifying duo alone.

The two archangels came near, and Validus froze beneath their fierce gaze. Gabriel frowned, then flew across the assembly and out of the hall. Michael remained, watching Validus with a face of stone.

“Why?”

Michael had been Elohim’s second angel, and now that Apollyon had rebelled, there was no other angel as powerful or wise. Validus had never talked to him. Why would he have? He was but the last.

“The battle for Kish, sir. The armies are gathering at Kish.”

Validus surmised that Michael and Gabriel both must have known, for Michael was the commander of the Warrior Order and Gabriel led the Messenger Order. His answer felt foolish, but what else could he say?

Michael descended, and the angels below him made way. As his right foot touched the elaborate marble floor, his brilliant white wings folded in, but they were still broad and powerful, evidence of his position as the leader of Elohim’s heavenly host. He walked toward Validus until he was just an arm’s length away. His eyes were hard and his jaw square.

Validus could see pain in his eyes, the pain of tens of thousands of angels who had dissolved in battle under his command. Did he feel accused? Did he feel a failure? Validus shuddered at the thought that Michael might feel judged by the last and the least of the angels. He lowered his eyes and bowed his head.

“I’m sorry, sir, if I’ve offended. I … we … are concerned for our brothers.” His voice lowered, but he dared to lift his gaze to Michael’s eyes for a moment.

The corners of the archangel’s eyes softened ever so slightly, then hardened again.

Gabriel returned and hovered above them. He looked down at Michael and nodded. Michael spread his massive wings and lifted himself up. He pointed up at the face of Tarsis spanning the entire dome of the hall.

“Remember the face of evil, my brothers, and never forget the price the righteous will pay because of it!” His voice boomed throughout the hall.

He looked at Validus, and his subtle nod brought no small relief. Validus took a deep breath as he watched both mighty angels exit the hall.

He turned back to the portal just as six trumpets from the guardian towers of Mount Simcha sounded. Validus’s heart sank, for he knew there would be more … many more.

6
 

2468 BC

Validus slid his fingers across the marble of the portal, and the image of Tarsis raising his hand to signal the charge of the Fallen dissolved to a broad view of the land surrounding the city. The warriors of Elohim stood shoulder to shoulder to defend the last bastion of good in the Middle Realm. The ancient city of Kish had been founded by two sons of Enoch nearly eight hundred years earlier with a decree establishing a government to follow the ways of God.

For fifteen hundred years the descendants of Adam had multiplied and filled the earth. Mighty men of God gave much hope at first, for the Spirit of Elohim was strong in their hearts, but slowly the tide of sin pounded away at the foundations of the righteous. The angel warriors found their battle with the Fallen difficult as man’s heart turned to darkness.

Region by region, city by city, family by family, the Fallen conquered and screamed their victories with raised fists toward heaven. Many times Validus had to turn away, unable to share what he had seen with his brothers.

His hope fell on Commander Danick and the city of Kish. Danick had defended this noble city for hundreds of years. But now with only one final fortress of righteousness to conquer, General Tarsis would not hold anything back.

Just as this thought occurred to Validus, Tarsis dropped his hand and the assault began.

Validus swept out across the charging forces of vile demons while the angels of heaven held their breath. Hundreds of thousands of the Fallen crashed down on the valiant warriors of the Upper Realm. Swords flashed and warriors screamed as forces collided in an endless concussion of steel on steel.

Some of the demons took to the air in an attempt to gain an advantage over the warrior angels, but they did not last long. Validus had learned early while watching the battles between Warrior Orders that wings did little to help and were in fact usually a disadvantage. An airborne warrior could not maneuver fast enough nor push against the solid form of earth to accelerate his attack. It took energy and precious seconds to morph wings and minutes to retract them. Without them, a warrior was quicker and moved faster across the ground. Wings were usually reserved for carrying orders from one command to another, but that was all.

Validus maneuvered the portal to a higher vantage point, for the battlefields of Kish were immersed in a continual sea of green and blue vapor as thousands upon thousands of demons and angels fell to the sword, dissolving to their prisons as decreed by the Genesis Accord. The holy warriors of Elohim stood strong, enduring wave after wave of demon attack, but soon their lines began to falter.

And as was always the case, a war between the angels and the Fallen meant there was a war between men. The fates of the spirits of men were the same as that of the angels and demons—all went to prison, the righteous to be comforted and the wicked to be tormented.

Those of the Carrier Order left the Hall of Vision to experience the horror of war firsthand.
For each child or righteous man or woman who died, a carrier angel was waiting to take them to Paradise in the heart of the earth, where they would be comforted as they waited for the redemption of their souls
.

But for the wicked men and women who died, demons of the Draeger Order were waiting to drag their souls to torment, also in the heart of the earth.
A great gulf was fixed between the place of torment and the place of comfort so that none could pass from one side to the other
.

Twelve wide tunnels led into the heart of the earth, six for the draegers and six for the carriers. During the battle for Kish, many souls of men and women would be taken. If Validus lingered too close to the action of a draeger, Persimus would turn away, for the vivid horror of judgment of the wicked was hard for him to watch.

As Validus continued to sweep across the battle, capturing fight after fight, the eyes of heaven watched and the trumpets of the guardian towers of Mount
Simcha sounded. All 144 trumpets resounded with sorrowful notes proclaiming the end of thousands of angel warriors. Voices of heavy sadness sifted through the trumpet blasts to add to the sorrow welling up in Validus. He struggled to stay on the portal, but he knew that nearly all of heaven was watching his portal to reveal the end of the war for earth.

The lines of angel warriors collapsed, and the Fallen descended on them in a frenzied slaughter of merciless conquest.

“How can this be?” Persimus asked.

Validus didn’t reply. He wished he had been wrong all along.

Validus searched for Commander Danick and found him courageously leading a band of fifty warriors out of the fray. By some miracle they fought to a hill and were able to keep the higher ground west of the city until the demon forces around them considered it too costly to finish them off when there was so much city to plunder.

Commander Danick led his remaining men away from Kish to a safe haven some distance from the city. Validus spotted two other bands of angel warriors fighting their way clear as well. He wondered how long they could survive in a world now controlled exclusively by evil men and more evil demons. He feared for them and for the few righteous men and women who remained.

Validus could take it no more. He flew the portal to a distant view of the conquered city and stepped away. The marble floor caught the tears of the angels as they wept for their brothers and for mankind. Validus’s sorrow was so deep he could not weep. He launched himself into the air, spreading his wings wide to catch as much lift as he could.

“Validus!” Persimus called, but Validus could not stay in the thickness of such heavy sorrow. He dodged fellow angels and exploded out through the high arched doors of the Hall of Vision.

Zion looked dark and heavy. He glanced toward the Holy Mount where the Throne Room of Elohim was. Michael and Gabriel stood near the fiery pillars as if waiting for some order. Their swords were drawn, and they gazed across the holy city, watching.

Validus fled from the sorrow, but there was no place to go. All of Zion was filled with the sorrow of evil’s conquest. Lightning and thunder shook the Upper Realm, and fear mingled with the grief of all. Validus flew across the city
until he was skirting the open fields and hills of the outer lands. He thought he could hear the cheers of hell, and he covered his ears.

How could Elohim have allowed the power of Apollyon to culminate in such victory … in such destruction? He dared not think the thought, but it would not leave his mind. Had He given Apollyon too much power? Would the war now come to heaven, to the very gates of Zion?

Validus streaked across the pale-blue sky, racing to a place he had never been, to a land far beyond the borders of Zion. He skimmed the trees and waters at blinding speed, fleeing the questions and inner pain in his chest. What was the meaning of it all? Why did evil prevail? Why did he exist if only to spend thousands of years trying to be content yet denying the warrior heart that beat within his chest the opportunity to exact justice on the evil of all the realms?