Zachariel, Michael, and Gabriel had landed in the alcove of a mountain overlooking a small, peaceful town. An enormous crowd of refugees stayed on the outskirts in a makeshift camp as some of the townsfolk tended to those who needed it. Others mingled with the villagers, helping cook, clean, and anything else that the tiny village required to sustain their visitors. A few hundred of the refugees had packed their things and continued further north, forming a long trail of people that stretched as far as the next mountain.
Other than that, most of the people were going about their day, without a care in the world. It reminded him of Riverglade, just days before everything had gone to chaos.
Zachariel sighed with sorrow. His once beautiful village was gone. If it weren’t for Ben, he would still do his simple patrols, mingling with the townsfolk, coffee in hand. Above all, he would still have his daughter with him, safe and sound. Now, Riverglade lay in ruins, any hope of a return to the life before shattered like the lives within it.
All because of Benjamin Blake.
I should have killed him. Then none of this would have happened.
He shook the thought from his addled mind as shame crept back into him. Despite the infection and its disastrous results, he knew none of it was truly Ben’s fault. All the poor boy wanted was answers, and now he had become a victim of circumstance.
Zachariel hesitated. Even if Ben was innocent at first, there was still his demon bite. Why would the demons choose him as a target? Because of his fire? Surely it would be a boon to them, an out-of-control Ben would certainly wreak havoc across the realm and plunge it into chaos.
No, he thought, there must be something else. Something more.
Interrupting his troubled thoughts, Gabriel propped his foot upon a rock and gazed outward at the small village and the crowd outside it. “You know how I’ve always been the optimist, brother?”
Zachariel managed a smile. “Unfortunately.”
Gabriel looked back. “I’m glad this village stepped up to help their neighbors. But this crowd makes for an excellent target.”
“For a demon attack, you mean?”
The Archangel nodded. “It’s a frightening thought, but…” He scratched his beard, “…what if that’s what the demons are trying to accomplish?”
“Wouldn’t be far from them, but I doubt it. They’re planning something.” Michael walked up, his intense blue eyes fixed on the town below. “But whatever it is, it has something to do with their new fortress.”
“Agreed.” Zachariel stared down at the village, seeing a young girl strum a guitar to the joy of the refugees watching her, much like Ariana would have. It almost made him smile.
Gabriel noticed and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll find her and Ben.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.” Zachariel grimaced. “I still feel guilty. I never should have sent her with him.”
“You’re worried about his infection?” Gabriel inquired.
“It’s—” he hesitated, “—I don’t know. There’s just something off about the boy.”
Michael arched an eyebrow. “Explain?”
“I’m…not exactly sure how to describe it,” Zachariel began, trying to piece together his garbled thoughts like a puzzle. “Ever since he arrived in my village, I’ve had this strange feeling of dread. I didn’t even understand what it was until—”
Something clicked. He thought back to Ben’s first moments in Riverglade, when he had sensed the boy’s aura. The feeling was barely discernible, as if hidden within him, but undeniably present. The insidious, uneasy feeling that nearly made every hair and feather on Zachariel’s body stand on edge. He couldn’t fully comprehend it until he had received that vision in the forest: the divine, judgmental eyes, the fire, the death.
“There’s more to him than just his fire, or his Soraphim lineage,” Zachariel said. “Beyond all that, he’s part of something else. Something dark, dangerous.”
“Dark and dangerous,” Gabriel said, nodding as he touched his chin. “Such as?”
“I…” His brows furrowed as he did his best to recall the terrifying images, “…in the forest, where he had arrived, I received a vision.”
“Of what?” Micheal turned from observing the village, eyeing him. Zachariel studied his superior for a moment before sighing.
“I saw death in measures I couldn’t comprehend, countless lives eradicated by fire.”
The Archangel’s eyes flashed. “What else?”
“There was some kind of being, clouded in shadow. I couldn’t make out much of it, but I remember the eyes. Evil, judgmental, yet righteous at the same time. Whatever it was, it came not from the demons or the Fallen One.”
“And what makes you think it’s tied to the boy?” Gabriel asked.
“When I’m near him…” Zachariel began, “…he almost feels like a bad omen. A warning. I don’t have any other way to describe it.”
“Strange.” Gabriel’s brows furrowed as he turned to his fellow Archangel, “What say y—”
Michael wasn’t listening. His eyes were wide, fists clenched, his shimmering blue wings rigid.
“What’s wrong, brother?”
Zachariel’s eyes widened. Michael knew something about the monstrosity he saw.
As if to confirm it, the Archangel finally replied, “There are certain things I am forbidden by the Creator to divulge. But…” He looked down at the village, a sense of urgency flashing in his eyes, “…if it is what I think it is, then the whole situation is far more dire than we expected. We cannot let the demons get their talons on Ben at any cost.”
Gabriel stood beside his brother and gazed down the mountain. “Maybe they passed through here? It’s close to Kira’s village.”
“It’s a start. Either way, we need to get moving.” Michael’s wings shifted around his body and melded together to form a brown cloak with a hood, hiding his armor. Zachariel and Gabriel followed suit and formed their own.
The three angels jumped down and began sliding down the mountainside toward the town, hopeful that they would finally get somewhere.
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Zachariel and Gabriel sat on a bench in the middle of the town for roughly half an hour, monitoring civilians incognito, while Michael spoke to the angel in charge of the village.
As they sat quietly, Zachariel’s mind wandered, and his restless spirit stirred. Every passing moment, he grew more worried, the horrifying possibilities flashed through his mind. Best case, they were both alive. Ben was still in control; Ariana was safe. Worst case…
No, he decided. I can’t let myself believe that. She’s safe. She must be.
Zachariel breathed deeply, doing his best to reassure himself and rid his mind of the unhealthy doom-and-gloom scenarios he had plagued himself with. As much as he tried, one thought stood apart from all the rest.
I had a duty to protect my village, but… he grimaced. I still wish I had gone with them.
To distract himself, he looked up and watched the townsfolk and refugees. The sea of noise with the strumming of the young girl’s guitar eased him a little, reminded him of home, even if it wasn’t there anymore.
He listened in further to their conversations, hoping for something useful: a rumor of a flame-wielding boy or a violin-toting girl. While he heard nothing he had hoped for, he recognized a name: Marge.
Zachariel blinked and listened in further. It was then that he heard the hissing voice of a teenage girl calling out to someone. “Come on, Bailey! Stop being slow! We have a job to do. Be ready to drop that beacon and get out of here!”
Bailey? That’s one of the names Ariana mentioned, Zachariel thought, and they turned out to be...
“Demons.” Gabriel stood up and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, his eyes widening in fervent anticipation. “I sense demons.”
Like him, Zachariel also gripped the handle of his blade. Were they the same she-demons that attacked Ben and Ariana back at Riverglade? If they were, he wasn’t sure how they could have survived, considering that he impaled one through the chest. The other two were slain by Ben.
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Are they survivors? Zachariel wondered as he searched the crowd, or…?
“Brother,” Gabriel whispered. “We’re close. Follow my lead.”
He nodded as Gabriel took the lead. If the two of them could get close enough while disguised, then perhaps they might take one alive.
Zachariel and Gabriel slowly crept their way toward the yet to be identified demons. One of them held a strange, gray and red box and hastily attempted to cover it with a loose rag.
Maybe it’s used to attract other demons, Zachariel thought, or worse.
In haste, he sped up his walking. The haphazard clack of his boots, despite the noise of the crowd, caused one of the hooded demons to look back, only her ragged mouth could be seen. Her ugly teeth grit as it spun around to alert her siblings.
Zachariel’s eyebrows furrowed. The demons had spotted them.
“Chase after them!” He forcefully pushed his way through the crowd, determined to reach the she-demons. Slowly, they morphed into their demonic forms; the faux shreds of human skin fell flat against the street as they desperately ran.
“Marge! Bailey! Keep them off my back! I need time to deploy it!” hissed the leader, which he assumed was ‘Alexis’.’
Zachariel flung aside the cloak and formed it back into his wings, readying his blazing sword. With a swift strike, he vaporized one of the she-demons, then lurched skyward, attempting to come down on the leader. The remaining follower blocked it with her own curved weapon, giving the leader time to scramble farther away, just out of Gabriel’s reach.
The she-demon swiped her weapon across in desperation, looking to make any opening. As she swung her curved blade wildly, she made the mistake of jabbing at his chest. He leapt to the side and grabbed her arm, twisted, and snapped it to restrain her from attacking. Her curved blade clattered to the ground as she shrieked so inhumanly that, for a brief second, he considered putting her down on the spot.
Zachariel pressed his foot against her chest, forcing her to the ground, as he finally got a good look. There was no mistaking it. It was the same demon he had slain in Riverglade village.
“How are you still alive?” he hissed, holding the blade at her throat. The she-demon struggled under the increasing pressure of his foot, garbling in hate and frustration. He planted the blade in the ground about an inch from her face and angled it so it scraped her neck. “What are you doing here?”
She stopped struggling and looked up at him, her desperate look replaced with an insidious grin. “Only following orders, angel. Same as you.”
“And what would those be?” He let the blade cut into her neck just a little further, hoping the pain would make her more compliant.
She momentarily stopped struggling and glared up at him. “You’ll see soon. You can kill us all you want, but we’ll keep on coming. This realm will fall.”
Zachariel scoffed. “What makes you so sure of that?”
“Because it’s too late to stop us.” The she-demon smirked. “Besides, why ask when you already know the answer?”
The angel froze. “Ben. His infection…”
“Put him under pressure and he’ll crack. The more he uses that fire, the more he becomes like us,” she hissed. “And the angels shall watch as their precious humans die, including that brat Ari—”
That was enough for him. Zachariel finished her off by grabbing the blade and swinging it downward, decapitating the demon like a guillotine. With a forceful pull, he ripped the sword from the ground, wiping it with his cloak as the creature's warning filled him with unease.
So, they mean to use him. He sheathed the blade as he tried to piece together the demon’s plan. But for what, exactly?
The demon's last words echoed in his mind, a chilling reminder of the countless lives that would be lost because of Ben's complete infection. Demons loved creating chaos, but surely, they wouldn’t go through all the effort of corrupting the boy just for that?
Also, he thought, if his infection takes him, then where…?
Zachariel’s eyes widened in a horrifying realization. The whole time, the demons had been systematically attacking the villages, killing who they could, forcing Ben, Ari, and the refugees north, concentrating them into one specific place, like pigs to a slaughter.
If they break him there, he thought, then that entire city will become a deathtrap.
“Michael! Gabriel!” Zachariel spun sharply as he ran up to them. “I know where Ben and Ari are going! We need to—”
In the split second before the ground beneath him gave way, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. The leader of the demons had slipped by his brothers and had finished activating her strange box. A loud crack filled the air, sending the three angels flying in separate directions. The force of the blast flung Zachariel into a nearby building, where he became ensnared amidst the scattered debris of stone and wood.
Zachariel looked up as the dust from the tear in the ground had finally subsided. A thirty-foot Wicked Giant appeared and brought havoc and mayhem upon the town.
No, he thought, not again!
He looked over to the left, where the village angel had been trying to free a trapped villager. He watched in horror as a flaming meteor decimated her, her body shattered into trillions of tiny particles of light.
Desperately, he thrashed about, trying to break free from his restraints, while people scattered in fear. The titanic monstrosity went to work, grabbing, crushing, stomping as many people as it could. Soon, the streets of the once peaceful village were bathed in blood, much like his own home.
Gabriel landed next to him, helping him up from the rubble of the building. They faced the beast and drew their weapons.
“Any idea how to defeat this thing?” Gabriel asked.
Zachariel faced forward, eying the beast. The last time he had come across one, it had taken both him and Raziel to defeat it. This time, however, there was still a crowd, plenty of innocents still left in the village.
“Maybe, but…” He grimaced as he looked at the townspeople, “…we can’t do it now. The beast’s weakness is only revealed when it attacks, and we want to prevent that.”
Gabriel’s eyes the fleeing innocents. “What can we do? Distract it?”
Zachariel grimaced. “For now.”
“All right. Let’s go.”
The two angels took off into the air towards the Wicked Giant, their swords held behind them, like a scorpion tail poised to strike. The beast’s blazing evil eyes met theirs as they dove in for the first attack.
It braced as the two angels dug their blades as deep as possible, dragging it across the tough skin of the monster. They broke off just as it swung wildly, attempting to smash them with its balled fist.
“Think we have its attention now?” Gabriel asked.
Zachariel observed it as he hovered, never taking his eyes from it. From its shadowy face came a hideous, twisted grin. It ignored the angels and continued to herd the humans further north, trampling any that couldn’t make it.
His ethereal eyes widened. The Wicked Giant knew what they were trying to do.
The angel dove once more, spreading his wings to catch the wind, his body a mere two feet from the bloodied ground. He struck the Giant’s heel with such a ferocity that it caused it to stumble. He tucked his wings in and slid to a halt about thirty feet in front of the giant.
Zachariel briefly glanced back to see it recover. He looked forward, seeing the townspeople flee north, to what he knew would only be a delayed death for them if the demons succeeded.
The blood-curdling scream of a child filled the air behind him. He spun around to see the young girl that strummed the guitar helplessly holding her hands up against the beast as it reached for her.
In that split second, his instincts kicked in, propelling him into action. He spread his wings and flapped them backward to give him a running start towards her, but it seemed as if it wouldn’t be enough. The Wicked Giant’s hand was a mere five feet from her, preparing to crush the child in its shadowy grip. At that moment, the image of the young girl briefly took on the form of a young Ariana.
No! he thought, I won’t make it!
The Wicked Giant’s hand fell limp about two feet from where the girl was, the beast’s horned head close to it. Its body dissipated into shadow as Michael landed next to the girl, his brilliant blue wings shining.
Zachariel sighed with relief. The young girl quickly hugged both Michael and Zachariel as Gabriel landed next to them, tucking his silver wings in.
“Thank you,” she said, grateful tears streaming down her young, puffy cheeks, “Thank you so much.”
“Of course, young one.” Zachariel rested his hand on her shoulders. “Where are your parents?”
She frowned and gestured to a pile of rubble a few feet away, with a bloodied, feminine arm sticking out. His eyes widened in horror.
Even when we protect them, he thought somberly, we always fail and people suffer for it.
“I’m sorry, little one,” he said, pulling the girl close. She silently cried as Zachariel stood to his full height, looking at Michael. The Archangel met his somber gaze with one of his own.
“How many are left here?” Gabriel asked as he looked around.
“Many fled North,” he explained. “I assume they’re going to the Sky City, which—”
“—the demon’s next target.” Zachariel finished for him. “Their plan is to push the refugees and Ben into the same place to unleash him. If they succeed, the entire city will become a floating deathtrap. We need to stop it.”
“Agreed, brother.” Gabriel nodded, turning to Michael. “What of the fortress? Or the Mass Exodus?”
“Do we even have the capacity to assault the fortress? Or evacuate the realm?” Zachariel asked.
“No, but I’ve already sent a messenger to Earth to request a few warriors from Heaven’s legion, but it will take some time for them to disengage safely. We don’t want to trade one objective for another unless absolutely necessary.” His brows furrowed. “We still don’t know where the fortress is. Even under threat of death, the demons refused to tell me anything other than ‘the realm will fall.’”
“Unusual of them to be so stoic,” Gabriel noted.
“These demons…” he began as both Archangels eyed him, “…I’ve fought them before.”
“Where?” Gabriel asked. “Riverglade?”
Zachariel nodded. “The problem is, they should all be dead. I killed one myself, and Ben destroyed the other two.”
“Impossible.” Michael’s eyes narrowed. “You’re absolutely sure?”
“I’m certain. I faced down a demon in the forest where I found Ben. It too, was as fearless as these three, almost as if it knew it wouldn’t truly die.”
“You’re suggesting they can cheat death?” Gabriel inquired.
“Exactly, though I don’t know how.” He glanced at Michael. “Maybe that answer lies in the fortress?”
“Perhaps. Although, our priority is preventing the fall of the Sky City. We know they’re herding the humans toward it for some kind of assault. I assume the hidden fortress of theirs is the means.”
“But why?” Gabriel asked. “What does mass death gain them? They prefer corruption to destruction, don’t they?”
“I don’t know, but…” Zachariel grimaced. “…it seemed excited at the prospect of him losing himself to the infection. But why use him when they could simply overwhelm the Sky City?”
“Strange indeed.” Gabriel scratched his chin. “Why go through all the effort just to cause such an atrocity?”
“Because we’ve got it all wrong,” Michael began. “The end goal isn’t destruction and death. It’s completing Ben’s corruption and bringing him under their control.” He gestured to the ruined village. “All this ruin? Assuming they succeed? Nothing but a means to test their new weapon.”
Zachariel’s eyes widened. “Then we need to get there as fast as possible.” He looked forward to the path, to see only a few of the villagers and refugees left staring at them. “And we need to keep others from arriving.”
Gabriel nodded. “I’ll handle that, brothers.” He knelt next to the girl that hid shyly behind Zachariel. “Do you have any other friends or family in the village?”
The girl slowly nodded.
He held his hand out with a gentle smile. “Let’s go find them and make sure they’re safe, okay?”
She smiled, grabbed her small, battered guitar, and grabbed onto Gabriel as he held her tight. He nodded and took off to keep the residents of the village from arriving at the Sky City before death could claim them.
“We should get going too.” Michael spread his blue wings and tore into the sky. Zachariel followed suit, hoping they would arrive in time.