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The
mor n i ng Star
J.R. Jones
The Morning Star
Copyright © 2010 by J.R. Jones. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any
way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without the prior
permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.
The opinions expressed by the author are not necessarily those of Tate Publishing, LLC.
The dedication of this book goes out to all of those people who
are searching. In the midst of the darkness of our present dilem-
mas, struggles, and strife, the beauty and comfort of knowing
there is a Father above who loves us and that His Son is the light
that carries us and keeps us strong gives me hope for this gen-
eration and the next. May this book, be to you, a way to stretch
your spiritual knowledge and your spiritual understanding to
grow closer to your Heavenly Father and to know His Son Jesus
Christ. May the Holy Spirit Bless this Reader!
7
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank the Father above who cares for me and
guides me through everything that I do. Although I make mis-
takes and have stumbled an infinite number of times, He is for-
giving and faithful to me and to all. I would like to thank Jesus
Christ for dying for me and for forgiving me of my sins and
walking with me through this rough road of life. I would like to
thank the Holy Spirit for His inspiration and guidance through-
out my life and through this book by opening my eyes to things
of the unseen. I would like to thank my family (Angela, Teresa,
Rick and Tina, Bill and Norma, Michael, Michelle, Andy and
Kayden, Betty and Ray, Norman and Rosie, Loretta and Joe,
Ken and Paula, Ashlee and Hollee, Lee and Bobby, Charles and
Bobbye, and all my other family members that cannot be listed
here) and friends (the Burkeen family, the Davis family, the
Ascani family and all my other friends who cannot be listed here)
who have always believed in the work God could do in me and
always taken care of me. Thank you and I love you all. Finally, I
would like to thank those of you who have taken the time to read
this book. May God Bless You! -JS53-
9
And I saw an angel come down from heaven, having the key
of the bottomless pit and a great chain in his hand. And he
laid hold on the dragon, that old serpent, which is the Devil,
and Satan, and bound him a thousand years, And cast him
into the bottomless pit, and shut him up, and set a seal upon
him, that he should deceive the nations no more, till the
thousand years should be fulfilled: and after that he must be
loosed a little season.
Revelation 20:1-3
Alpha
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receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and
by your will they were created and have their being.”
Mikael returned from the Pit and gave a silver ring contain-
ing many keys to the great archangel Gabrielle, and she placed
them close to her heart. Jehovah took the abyss and the pit within
it and placed it amongst Sheol and the lake of fire as it awaited
its appointed time.
Jehovah’s orders had now been fulfilled precisely as He had
spoken them, with a diligent unification made by His heavenly
hosts. Now all that had been since the time in the beginning, the
history of creation and the foundations of the Earth, was decayed
or destroyed. I thought briefly of the seven days it took Jehovah
to create His world of life and wonder so many millennia ago. It
was only now that I understood why He had taken seven years
to destroy the world of Earth as sorrow and regret filled His eyes
from the destruction of the land and of man. He had loved His
creation of humans more than the Earth itself, but His creation
had scorned and refused His love, which had brought about the
annihilation of its race and home.
As I looked out across the fractured planet that had once been
a beautiful, blue world, I thought of the triumphs of humanity
and their downfalls. I thought of the goodness of the creatures,
the stillness of the waters, and the beauty of the mountains, but
they were gone now within my mind as a collage of devastation
filled the cracked globe before me. This barren wasteland was not
just a depressing tragedy to witness, but an honest and justifiable
one at that. Men had taken for granted the One who had made
them. Men had forsaken and turned their backs away from He
who is Jehovah. The few who were faithful, the few called the
chosen, had been rescued from the doom of humanity, and their
tests and trials were finally over.
Then Jehovah, with a hand the size of the moon, bursting
with the light of life, reached into the Earth’s layers and scooped
out three hollow places where ocean and land had been before.
In these hollow places stood millions upon millions of men and
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women, looking high above them for the first time at the eyes of
Jehovah, their Creator. I had not seen these hollows for two mil-
lennia, and as I smiled down upon them, I thought of the peace
that was soon to linger over these devastated and exhausted
souls.
Each hollow represented an area of Abraham’s bosom
where the souls of those who had yet to be judged awaited their
appointed time. In the eastern hollow were the children who had
died upon the Earth before their set age of accountability, and
they had eyes of innocence staring up in peace at the sight of
their wonderful Lord. In the western hollow were those who had
died without the opportunity to make a choice to serve Jehovah
or deny Him as their King, and they were a mixture of races in
a mass of numbers. They looked up into the face of Jehovah,
somewhat confused at their purpose and even more fearful of
their future, but nevertheless thankful that a new beginning had
finally come. The middle hollow was full of those who had died
by sea or by beast, and they were placed aside as an exception to
their judgment, given a second chance at a new life in the coming
new world. They peered up into the eyes of Jehovah with bod-
ies that had been mangled and torn, but I knew that they would
soon be repaired by His loving hand as their tearful eyes stared
into the face of the one who created grace and mercy. Then, with
a wave of Jehovah’s hand, the hollow places were emptied, and
nothingness stepped into their place. Jehovah looked at His son,
who is called Immanuel, and smiled.
Immanuel was dressed in a robe dripping with blood and
wore a golden crown upon His head, and a double-edged sword
lay at His side. His hair was as white as snow; His eyes were like
a merciful fire; and on His thigh was engraved, “The King of
kings and Lord of lords.” He sat upon a saddle adorned with jew-
els, and his steed had the wings of a thousand eagles. Immanuel
smiled at His Father as they communicated in an unspoken lan-
guage, nodding their heads at one another in comprehension of
some preorganized plan.
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Immanuel directed his steed with her golden reins into the
burning Earth for one final task appointed by Jehovah. I had
barely blinked an eye when Immanuel returned carrying a sil-
ver satchel of hidden things that had been concealed within the
Earth. I looked up at Jehovah, the Father of all, whose face was
like a million suns, glorious and bright, and His hands came
together in preparation for a supernatural event portrayed only
once before in the history of time.
With a few slow movements, He folded and unfolded the
Earth from its broken form. He smoothed out all the rivers, hills,
and lakes while the mountains melted into a desert sea like wax
in a fire. The sky vanished, and the Earth was no more as dark-
ness began to cover all things. The stars veiled themselves, and
the moon that lingered beneath me disappeared. The weary sun,
which was now nothing more than a black soot of magma, was
erased from existence as the light of all the angels faded to black.
Even the white robes of the white army lost their color as light
disappeared from every aspect of creation, turning everything
into darkness.
We were all still there, and yet we were not. We were as invis-
ible as time, which had also come to an end, along with every-
thing else in existence, but a new beginning was about to be cre-
ated. I remembered the universe appearing, as it did now, in the
establishment of all things like a plain of shadows with no pres-
ence of life. All that was visible was Jehovah, alone in the dark-
ness, preparing for His greatest work of all. I watched His eyes
at that instant, so carefully configuring His movements, knowing
that the halls of time were passing through His mind. He was
thinking of how different it should be, how marvelous it would
be, and where He wanted every inch to go. Then His moment
of thought and reflection was gone, and He bent Himself into
the essence of power and control that only He could claim. My
hands did not tremble as my eyes adjusted to what the night
would call darkness. What could have been a century seemed
to be passing us by as we patiently awaited the mighty hands of
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He brought His eyes away from His creation for a slight sec-
ond and gave me an all-knowing smile. He threw His right arm
in a sweeping wave, and the stars glittered across the darkness
of the universe once more; but they were no longer the dazzling
white lights in the blackness of space. Now an assortment of
colors like the explosion of a rainbow speckled the darkness with
a beauty it had never owned before. Warmth fell across my skin
as I looked behind and around me for a new planet of fire, but it
was nowhere to be found. Jehovah, who knows all things, turned
to me and said, “Not this time, Wisdom” and I smiled.
This world would not have to rely upon a sun for warmth
and life, but rather, it would live off of the very light of Jehovah
Himself. The white army appeared once more before me with
garments shining like the stolen light of a million stars. The
angelic masses began to shine as well with the same brilliance
and splendor that they had always had, but not one angel was
singing, speaking, or even blinking. Everyone was standing in
amazement of the miracle of creation happening before their
eyes again. Then a funny thought occurred to me, Have we been
standing here for six days watching the Lord create a new world?
Immanuel looked over at me and gave me a smile and a wink,
and I knew only He and Jehovah knew the day and the hour as
it always has been.
Jehovah’s hands fell to His side, and the beauty of His cre-
ation neared completion. His eyes thoroughly inspected each and
every aspect of His new world as He placed His final touches
here and there. He bent some mountains, widened a river, added
a new bank to a lake, and finally let out a breath of satisfaction.
I looked about this new land and saw that a golden city had
arisen in the north, prepared with houses of an immense pro-
portion, like the old mansions of the moon, laced with precious
stones and fruitful vines. Silver palms scattered across this king-
dom, and a wall made of many jewels encompassed its perimeter
while four mighty pearls stood as gates from the north, south,
east, and west.
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be called the holy, and they waved palm branches as they sang.
Those who are called the anointed gathered in the east, and they
danced before the Lord with King David in their midst. The
righteous appeared in the north with great shouts coming from
their tongues, saying, “Thanks be to our Lord, great and mighty
is His name.”
Jehovah nodded His head with a smile on His face at the
people bursting with happiness at the sights and features of their
new world, their new homes, and their new kingdom, which
they would soon call Jerusalem. So much compassion burned in
Jehovah’s heart for these loved ones, who had endured so much
pain and strife during their times on Earth, that I knew reward-
ing them for their faithfulness was an enormous treasure unto
itself to Him.
Then each angel noticed something new happening that had
never happened before. The Satyrs and Minotaurs of the spirit
realm began mingling with the human races that had been given
land close to theirs, far away from the city of gold. I could not
speak, nor could any angel, but everyone’s minds were racing
with the concept of this new culture. I instantly thought back to
all of the discussions I had debated with Jehovah concerning the
separation of the physical and spiritual realms. Often, I had said
that the two realms should be joined and the physical not left
to animals and humans alone. I remember Him always smiling
and telling me, “In time, Wisdom. In time.” And this must be
the time He meant, and what joy this brought to my heart. The
union of these two realms was so exciting that I let out a shout of
joy myself, which made Jehovah laugh as I did.
He smiled at the angels, who were still pondering this new
mixture of life, as He said, “There will never again be separa-
tion between spirit and physical, my loved ones. They shall now
live amongst each other together in spirit, for the physical world
has been erased. They have been given glorified bodies, and they
shall live amongst each other as a community in peace.”
A vast bow flowed through the angelic hierarchy, and Jehovah
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smiled once more and nodded His head to an island off the east-
ern shore of Eterni. Some of the angels looked confused and oth-
ers terrified. Some of them were ecstatic with joy and curiosity.
Zion, the home of the angelic heavens, for the first time in all of
creation, had been placed as a floating island far off the eastern
shore of the new world. A waterfall was flowing from it into the
white ocean, but as we all looked closer, it was obvious that the
water was actually flowing up to the island instead of down.
“Are you joining us there, my Lord?” some of the cherubim
sung in the form of a question.
This was a very odd question to some of the angels, who did
not fully understand the implications of what was happening. For
others who understood Jehovah’s choice, they knew this would
become a pinnacle in angelic history forever. Never before had
Zion, the kingdom of the seven heavens, been attached to another
world. It had always been separated as its own entity outside the
realm of the physical. Now it appeared that the angels’ destiny
would be changed forever as they joined forces with this new
planet called Eterni. All the angels floated in silence, awaiting the
response of Jehovah. In all His wisdom, He knew every concern
and every heartache of His precious race of angels. So as He began
His answer aloud, He internally spoke to each angel within their
mind, answering the questions of each of their needs.
“In time, I shall. But for now, all instructions have been left
with Mikael to keep order in Zion until I return.”
“Where will you be going, my Lord?” a seraph named
Apollyon asked.
“In time, Apollyon, you will see. Now I must ask for Metatron
to join me, along with a third of your hosts.”
At that moment, Jehovah spoke into the mind of every angel
again, and immediately, each angel knew who was staying and who
was going with Him. With a burst of excitement, the third of the
hosts who were going with Jehovah gathered on the right side of
Him, joined by Metatron. The twenty-four elders gathered next to
Him as well, but Immanuel and the four living creatures were not
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accounted for at that time. Slowly, those who would be left behind
gathered around Mikael and the other great archangels.
“What shall we call this new world, Father?” some other
cherubim sang sweetly.
“Eterni,” He replied as He looked over every angel with an
expression of love for them that set a fire in their hearts.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a little blue light shine
on Gabrielle. My eyes blinked twice, and the light disappeared.
In my own mind, I heard Jehovah speak His task desired for
me just as He had spoken at the beginning of time when the
Earth was fresh and new. The words I declare to you now are the
words that were spoken to me by Jehovah at that time. “What
was known has changed. What will be remains. What I have
spoken will come to pass again.”
Then He was gone, and a third of the hosts of Zion with
Him. I watched as Mikael led the remaining angels into Zion
and set up order as he had been instructed. I sat on the outskirts
of the atmosphere, watching, wondering, and admiring all that
was new. A freshly made world floated joyfully in the universe
like a finely polished pearl with more potential and wonder than
any planet before. I took from my robe a new book bathed in
emerald and gold. A blue, feathered quill rested in my ear, and
as I took it to my hand, the first page of my book began to open.
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The time I will tell you of now is the time when the physical
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realm has been removed and the new world of Eterni has been
forged. Revelation has passed and is now but a memory as the
future begins for many races and nations who are unaware of its
properties and hope.
Throughout history, Jehovah, your Creator, Father to all, has
desired one simple task out of all creation: to seek after Him with
all the power that lies within your soul. And those who seek Him
will find Him. Jehovah wishes above all things to give hope back
to a dying world full of depression, hatred, and evil to find Him
and have a relationship with Him. Now, in His wisdom, this
story has been written for those to know and understand what
is to come and rejoice, for He is good. Do you believe, or do you
not believe? This is the story.
I, Wisdom, live together with good judgment. The Lord
formed me from the beginning before He created anything else.
I was appointed in ages past, at the very first, before the Earth
began. I was born before the oceans were created, before the
springs bubbled forth their waters. Before the mountains and
the hills were formed, I was born—before He had made the
Earth and fields and the first handfuls of soil. I was there when
He established the heavens and when He drew the horizon on
the oceans. I was there when He set the clouds above, when He
established the deep fountains of the earth. I was there when He
set the limits of the seas so they would not spread beyond their
boundaries. And when He marked off the Earth’s foundations, I
was the architect at His side. I was His constant delight, rejoic-
ing always in His presence. And how happy I was with what He
created: His wide world and all the human family.
And so, my children, listen to me, for happy are all who fol-
low my ways. Listen to my counsel, and be wise; don’t ignore it.
Happy are those who listen to me, watching for me daily at my
gates, waiting for me outside my home; for whoever finds me
finds life and wins approval from the Lord. But those who miss
me have injured themselves. All who hate me love death.1
Wisdom
27
Decido, the
Yellow Path
A thousand years passed in the world of Eterni, and the sky was
as pearl white as it had been on the day of its creation. The feath-
ers of two angels rustled in a cool breeze as softly as the day they
had first been made, but neither of them had yet become accus-
tomed to the new, pure, white sky that surrounded them above or
the ivory waters that filled the oceans below. Both angels stared
at the breaks of the waves beneath them sparkling in all the col-
ors of the rainbow as the tide rolled over the seas, thinking to
themselves of what was to come.
The two angels were swiftly making their way to the shores
of Sardis at the southern tip of Eterni, where a mission they had
plotted was to be carried out to the best of their ability. They
both knew the dangers of this mission, and although this journey
had taken several hours, as an angel flies, little communication
had developed between them except for various directive points
to secure the continued secrecy of this operation.
“We can have no trailers!” the larger angel had repeatedly
said to the smaller one as they made their way from Zion across
the long, empty ocean. “From the heavens or from Eterni!” he
added, and the smaller angel always nodded in agreement.
They had been fortunate enough so far not to meet too much
opposition on their journey, except for a few schools of whales
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and seals that followed them for a few miles and then trailed
off.
The largest angel, who was now a great distance from his
companion, swooped to a ninety-degree angle and took three
hard thrusts toward the shore that was coming up upon the
coastline speckled with bluish trees. The smaller angel followed
with trepidation in his glide and less enthusiasm than the other,
but soon enough, they were both placing their naked feet softly
upon the coarse surface of the sandy beach as the white waves of
the tide reached out to touch their toes.
Gamaliel, the smaller of the two angels, gave his arms and
wings a big stretch from the long journey they had just taken and
peered across the beach, enjoying the scenery laid out before him.
Normally, the elegance and beauty of the baby blues that were
native to this area of Sardis would have kept his mind at ease, but
the thoughts of what they were about to try and accomplish was
tormenting his mind with every second that passed. Gamaliel
was a slender archangel of only nine feet, who had shimmer-
ing silver hair and deep purple wings. His lower feathers were
a shade lighter than the creamy sand beneath him, and he had
majestic, silver eyes that were in an uneasy state at the moment.
He walked slowly up the northern part of the beach, sift-
ing through the jeweled marbles that speckled the cream-colored
sand, hoping not to see signs of the hidden path he knew lay
somewhere along this coast. He reached inside the left side of
his robe, which was white like the sky and purple like his wings,
pulling out a thin, platinum string to tie his long, silver hair tight
behind his head. As his hands fumbled through his hair, ner-
vously attempting to tie the knot, he began to walk in the direc-
tion of the larger angel, who was surveying the beach.
“So do you know right where it is, Apollyon?” Gamaliel said
in a tone that clearly meant, “I hope not.”
“I don’t have to know,” Apollyon responded harshly as he
reached into his golden robe and pulled out a triangular piece
of glass that was the color of amber. Apollyon was the opposite
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the path from where they had landed. Apollyon sifted more and
more of the sand aside, revealing the entire stone path leading
out into the water. Gamaliel followed him with an unimpressed
look upon his face as the freshly cleared path began to reek hor-
ribly of sulfur all around them.
“Apollyon,” Gamaliel said in a faint voice as he pinched his
nose with his fingers.
Apollyon turned around for one second as he replaced the
amber triangle back within his robe. “What!” he said warningly.
“Well, it’s just … I mean … are you sure … you know … I
mean … uh?” Gamaliel stuttered all of this in one high-pitched
sentence.
“We are going through with this, so you might as well accept
it !” Apollyon demanded as he headed out toward the ocean.
“And at least act like you have the slightest amount of bravery
within those pastel-colored feathers of yours!”
Gamaliel took his fingers from his nose and began fiddling
with his belt as he battled with his conscience and their goals.
The thoughts and warnings in his mind were making him immo-
bile, as if his feet had been cemented to the path, unwilling to
move until some revelation or courage hit his spirit. Apollyon
was already waist-deep in water, continuing to follow the path
out into the ocean, not wasting any time. This is all so sudden,
Gamaliel thought to himself as he lifted one foot and then the
next as slowly as possible toward the incoming tide. He had
thought, or rather hoped, it would take them hours, possibly even
days, to find the path, but had he known about the amber piece,
he could have been more prepared for their quick discovery. He
would have rather looked for days and days and returned to Zion
as failures than accomplish what they were about to attempt now
that they had found the path.
He hoisted up the purple bottom of his robe that lay upon
his feet and stepped out into the water, feeling the temperature
of the ocean. Carefully, he dipped his foot into the white waves,
feeling the lukewarm tide sweep up over his ankle. He glanced at
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Apollyon, who had, for a moment, turned around to see what his
useless sidekick was doing. Apollyon raised a hand to his fore-
head in disgust as Gamaliel smiled a blushful smile.
Apollyon shook his head as he tried to remember why he had
brought Gamaliel at all, especially for such an important task as
this. The only thought that occurred to him was that no other
angel had volunteered, but then again, neither had Gamaliel. He
turned his attention back to the path under the water as the cur-
rent rested upon his chest, soaking his golden robe, but as he
peered through the water, he saw that the path had disappeared.
The sulfuric yellow stone was nowhere to be seen, and he
frantically kicked his feet all around him, trying to uncover the
path. This did not help his vision as the sand filled the water
like a thunderstorm churning in the sky and the breaks of the
waves dazzled with a glare so bright that Apollyon felt partially
blind. For a moment, he considered that the sand and the water
were both trying to obscure his vision purposely from finding the
path, but he tossed this idea from his mind as he resumed his
search for the yellow stones. He moved forward and sideways,
back and forth, but nothing could be seen in the milky water.
Then Apollyon’s foot slipped over the edge of something slick,
and he fell quickly under the current with nothing more than a
mild splash.
Gamaliel, who had been slowly edging his way out, heard
the splash and looked up immediately. Unfortunately, all he saw
was a vast ocean before him with no Apollyon in sight. The first
emotion that hit him was fear mixed with anxiety and finishing
with more fear. He couldn’t move. He was glued to the sand as
the waves continued to smack him at his waist. He looked in the
air, but there was nothing there.
“Apollyon?” he yelled.
No one replied. He looked behind him, knowing that
Apollyon could not have possibly passed him by without him
noticing, but nevertheless, he screamed, “Apollyon!” His high-
pitched voice only scared a family of parrots from their nesting in
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Aker
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ther hot nor cold but cool and warm together on his skin, and to
his surprise, the deeper they went, the brighter the haze got.
Gamaliel forced his wings to push harder and harder through
the water to catch up with Apollyon, who was now a good dis-
tance away from him. He swam through the water quicker than
any sea creature he had ever seen, but this was not of his own
accord. It felt more like the ocean was pulling him toward some-
thing or beckoning him onward. Once again, the increasing dif-
ficulty of their mission stirred within Gamaliel, and an unease of
drastic proportion settled there.
The ocean became denser and denser as it pressed in all around
him, pulling him deeper and deeper into its midst. Suddenly, an
odd current of water like a spiraling tornado captured him and
began dragging him toward the ocean’s floor. Colors of black and
white twisted all around him as he struggled desperately in the
funnel to swim, breathe, or use his wings. Then, as if the water
had suddenly vanished, he began to fall out of control toward
some unknown location. Swirls of light began to twist rapidly all
around him, and he fought desperately to spread out his wings
and clench some wind within them, but nothing happened. He
couldn’t grip the air at all, and he was becoming more and more
frantic as everything around him disappeared within the black
and white swirls.
Then, as the last bit of oxygen seeped out of his lungs and the
atmosphere pulled him from every direction, nearly ripping him
apart, he landed face first on the ocean floor. The impact caused
an incredible amount of pain that started on his face and moved
throughout his body. He didn’t dare move anything except for
his mouth, which was sucking in as much oxygen as possible.
His eyes were closed as his brain accepted the pain of his impact
with the hard surface beneath him. Everything ached, from his
lungs to his bones, and he dimly opened one eye. Beside him
was a mess of black and gold hair lying just as still as he was. He
momentarily wondered if Apollyon was dead from the impact.
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Then the hair began to move, and a head lifted up off of the
ground.
Gamaliel closed his eye and did not move. He thought he
could stay in this position for days and endure his pain until he
was healed, but that chance was taken from him quickly as he felt
the back of his robe pull tight against his chest, and instantly, he
was pulled to his feet to stand beside Apollyon.
“This must be the chamber, the entranceway to the abyss,”
Apollyon said breathlessly.
Gamaliel gave him a halfhearted smile as he twisted his back
from side to side, stretching his aching muscles from the fall to
the floor. He felt the hems of his robe and realized that they were
completely dry. He then felt his face and ran his fingers through
his hair and realized that they were dry too. It must have been the
wind as I was falling, he thought to himself, but at that moment,
a drop of sweat twinkled upon his brow. He then began to notice
the intense heat all about him. He bent down and looked at the
rusty red sand beneath him and felt another blast of heat as if a
gust of wind had run over him.
“This place is a sauna, but without steam,” he said out loud,
not turning his head to look in Apollyon’s direction.
Apollyon wouldn’t have been listening anyway. He was at the
edge of the glass enclosure, looking all around the small chamber,
attempting to move the sand at his feet, but it wouldn’t budge.
Gamaliel ignored this problem and began to stretch his back
again to relieve the muscle spasms trickling down his spine. As
his head tilted back, his eyes grew to the size of grapefruits.
Terror filled his heart as the sweat on his face multiplied rapidly.
Unable to speak, he nudged Apollyon, who had just passed by on
his hands and knees, trying to pull the sand from the surface.
Furious at the interruption and frustrated with his luck,
Apollyon stood up with fury in his mind and a tongue full of
anger until he saw a terrifying look on Gamaliel’s face. Slowly,
Apollyon lifted his eyes to the roof of the chamber, and his mouth
fell open from the sight beyond the glass above.
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keyhole, a growl came from the guard dog, Garm, and the lions
eyes awoke from their apparent slumber. A clamored roar echoed
through the chamber, knocking over the two angels instantly.
The two lions’ mouths did not move, but Gamaliel knew that
the roar was coming from them as the eyes of the lions bore into
them like a drill. Gamaliel and Apollyon both cuffed their ears
with their hands and their wings. The lions’ eyes seemed to be
burning into their flesh as Apollyon jumped up with a sudden
burst of courage from the staircase and said, “I command thee,
Aker. Submit to the key of death, and open your doors to the
abyss and the foul that lies within you.”
The pain stopped momentarily as another sinister growl
came from the lions. Then, a simultaneous hissing spread out
across their ears with the same voice that had spoken earlier.
“The time is not yet near to allow angels entrance into these
gates, Apollyon,” the voices taunted.
Apollyon gripped the skeleton key tightly in his hand and
held it to the face of Aker on the iron door.
“You will obey me and the authority entrusted to me by this
key, Aker. It is not yours to choose the time of your opening,” he
demanded.
At this moment, the skeleton key jumped out of Apollyon’s
hand and landed perfectly into the iron slot. The door broke open
between the two lions, and Apollyon was thrown back beside
Gamaliel by a burst of hot wind escaping from the inside. Both
angels grabbed their ears in pain from the piercing screams and
dreadful laughs of the imprisoned faces in the iron that were sud-
denly audible. They got to their feet quickly as, before them, a
pit of darkness began to materialize. Both of their wings shivered
slightly from the immense presence of evil that lurked beyond
it.
The two angels stood up as straight as they could and
approached the broken door, trying to ignore the screams of ter-
ror sounding from every direction. Aker, with a disgusted look on
his faces, released the key from its hole, and it fell to the ground
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41
The Abyss
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they must do, and Gamaliel smiled in the darkness, knowing that
he was not the only one regretting this adventure now.
As they began their way down the jagged steps toward the
tiny, red glow, the stench grew heavier and heavier, making breath-
ing a horrible task. Their wings were uncomfortably pinioned to
their sides in the stifling narrow hallways, and the tormenting
heat formed blisters on their skin. Each footstep was a battle to
make as the tar like surface on the uneven rock gripped their feet
tightly in an attempt to root them to the spot with every step
they made. More than once, Apollyon retrieved his sword and
had to cut away at the gripping tar so he could continue down
the path freely. Gamaliel was frantic, with his heart beating hard
upon his chest as they continued deeper into the darkness with
the vague, red glow getting ever stronger at its core. He stopped
suddenly upon the staircase as a strange breeze flowed over his
body like nothing he had ever experienced before. “Apollyon!” he
shouted with uncertainty and fear in his voice.
Apollyon turned his head slightly and could barely see the
panicked state of Gamaliel. “What!” he said in a callous voice.
Gamaliel looked around, and the feeling that something was
there, right there in the darkness, watching and waiting for them,
crept over his spirit again. He reached deep down within himself
for some form of his voice and some bit of courage, but the voice
that he found was fragile, dreadful, and no more than a squeak as
he said, “Nothing. It was nothing.”
Apollyon turned back around with a scowl on his face and
headed farther into the abyss. Gamaliel swallowed what little
saliva survived in his mouth and picked up his feet to walk, but
his boots had been nearly overtaken by the tarry surface on the
floor. He pulled his sword out again, and with awkward slashes,
he freed himself from the clutches of the tar and hurried toward
Apollyon. For what seemed like hours, they climbed down, down,
down the dark staircase with soot sticking to their robes, cuts
upon their hands, and a stench clinging to their bodies.
Finally, the red glow of the pit framed their silhouettes, and
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The Fall of Zion
who was facing the smaller middle door, which was burning with
black flames, and patted him on the back.
“Do you know which key opens this door?” Gamaliel asked
as he moved his hand from Apollyon’s shoulder because of the
murderous face he was giving him.
Apollyon didn’t speak as Gamaliel’s hand left him, and he
returned his gaze to the keys, sorting through them and mutter-
ing a riddle to himself. “In this tormentous home, we have locked
him with bone. As the fork was his tool, so the torch will then
bloom, and locked within stone, his doom is enclosed.” Apollyon
held up a key that was as black as the flames on the door in front
of him. The key was in the shape of a pitchfork, no larger than
the skeleton key they had used to get past Aker.
Suddenly, the door before them ignited into a blaze of red
flames, and Apollyon threw the key at the door as the key caught
fire in his hand. Oddly enough, the key went directly into its slot,
and the flames blended into a collage of red, black, and orange.
The glow of the fire danced across their faces as Gamaliel
said in a curious tone, “Where do these other doors lead to?”
Apollyon rolled his eyes as he looked at the smaller angel,
who he had always considered as a younger brother, pestering
and annoying. Apollyon pointed to his right at a door made of
metal, as red as fire itself and as jagged as sharks’ teeth. “That’s
the door to hell,” Apollyon said with a spit of arrogance. Then
he pointed to his left at a door swirling with black lava and high-
lighted in brilliant orange colors and said, “That is the lake of
fire, which means that this door is—”
“The pit,” Gamaliel interrupted with a stunned awe in his
voice.
Apollyon smirked and held out his hand. “Would you like to
do the honors?” It was only then that Gamaliel noticed his hand
was shaking slightly upon the hilt of his sword. He hesitated and
then pulled it out, pressing it gently against the fiery door that
swung open instantly from the touch of his blade. As the door
opened, the flames died out and the key became visible again.
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47
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key as he searched for the key hole that was a slit barely notice-
able in the middle of the stone. He turned his eyes away from the
key as he felt for the tiny slit. Gamaliel shut his eyes tightly and
grasped the hilt of his sword. The key did not miss, satisfying
its own intentions as it slid purposefully into the slot. The stone
rumbled in a fierce tremor as the ground beneath them shook,
and the angels were flung backward onto the muddy floor.
As they lay upon their backs, the stone rolled to the left,
fading behind the adjacent wall; and an intense heat rolled over
them. A fatal stench followed the heat and was clutching the
inside of their lungs, making them both gag and twitch. They
looked over their knees and into the room before them, which
was full of poisonous fumes floating like green ghosts in the air;
and tears of blue blood began streaming down their faces, wash-
ing the venomous fumes from their eyes. Gamaliel felt the tears
with his fingers and then looked down at his hand to see a blue
smear of his own blood. He had never before seen the tears of
blood that were the mark of angelic betrayal; and as he stared at
the stains upon his hands, more tears flowed from his eyes.
Apollyon was the first to his feet, wiping the soot and ash
of the floor from his garments. Gamaliel was still staring at his
hands when he was picked up by the neck and placed beside
Apollyon. Gamaliel looked with a tearstained face at his partner,
who gave him a look of understanding as the blue stains drew
a path across both their faces. Their breathing was harsh and
rough as Apollyon began to walk cautiously into the pit. Gamaliel
followed him hesitantly with a shaky hand on his sword as he
sucked in the muggy air. The pit was completely dark except for
the ivy green smoke circulating within the chamber. Together,
they spotted the only visible object within the room, which was
a crimson pool boiling like hot oil just feet from their toes. The
pool was unstable, with waves and bubbles splashing violently
around the edges of the pit.
Apollyon stared at the menacing liquid that was moving with
awkward motions. Gamaliel was not so eager to investigate this
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pool as he had been the tree in the foyer, and he kept his distance
as the fluid popped and gurgled more intensely. Then a large cage
began to emerge from the center of the garnet pond. Gamaliel
stood up as tall as he could and took out his sword, but the hole
upon it had grown so much that the metal was barely staying
together. The boiling blood splashed violently as the cavern’s
walls began to shake. The cage split through the surface of the
liquid, with white flames and golden bars appearing as its mold.
Apollyon looked over at Gamaliel, whose pitiful sword looked as
if it was about to shake out of his hands, and drew out his own
sword as well.
Inside of the fiery cage was the skeleton of a winged creature.
Massive platinum chains bound him, and the figure sat with its
back rested upon the bars and its head cocked to the side in a
dreary position. Black blood poured from its body as every inch
brought the cage farther and farther from its depths. Then the
skeleton’s head began to adjust as it became aware of the cage’s
movement, and its wings twitched with their first feeling of life
in a thousand years. A loud, high-pitched scream came bellow-
ing from the creature; and the entire cavern quaked, causing the
walls to burst into red flames all around the pit. Gamaliel nearly
fainted and grabbed onto Apollyon’s robe quickly as he started to
fall. Apollyon knocked his arm off and was in full concentration
of what he must do.
The white flames of the cage burned out like a candle, and
the golden bars disintegrated before their eyes. The chains fell
from the creature on all sides, and a slight breeze of heat swept
across their faces. There was now nothing between this demonic
figure and the two terrified angels. Their hearts were racing like
never before as sweat poured down their brows. Even Apollyon
began to quiver at the realization that they now stood alone in
a secluded pit with the first being of darkness released by their
own hands into this new world. The skeletal wings of the crea-
ture began flapping in a wingspan that nearly crossed the entire
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53
A Dark Alliance
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men. If you would lead the angels in a war against this new world,
we could reign there forever and enslave those who oppose us.”
Apollyon finished with a fire in his eyes that made Satan
think of himself millenniums ago. The comment of men was a
wise decision by Apollyon, as it sent a chill down Satan’s spine,
reminding him of his hatred of the human race.
“I see,” Satan said as his hand relaxed and grasped the black
of his thin beard, semi-impressed with the answer given by
Apollyon. “What a well-thought-out answer,” he said mordantly
as fire shot through his eyes. “What about Him though? You
want me to wage a war against Him and His precious humans
again as if Armageddon wasn’t an obvious enough defeat for
you?” He said, in a sudden fit of rage as his hands began to spark
again with the black flames of his fury. “I am sure He is well-
aware of my release now and the treasonous actions the two of
you have taken against Him and all those who have assisted you.”
Satan suddenly began to shudder with madness as visible black
fire raced through his skin, nearing the point of eruption; but
Apollyon was well-prepared for this question, and he had an
elaborate answer waiting upon his tongue.
“No one has heard from J-Je—” Apollyon began to cough
harshly but then caught some air in his lungs and started again.
“Sorry. I was saying that no one has heard from J-Je-Jeh—” He
began coughing again, this time more violently than before, as
if the words he was attempting to say were strangling his throat
and would not come out. After coughing three more times, he
finally caught his breath and realized that he could no longer say
the name Jehovah.
Satan looked at him, quite pleased, and said, “You were say-
ing,” with an abominable smile upon his face.
Apollyon looked at Gamaliel, who was trembling at the
awareness that their glory had faded and a feeling of naked-
ness and isolation was creeping over the both of them the like of
which they had never experienced before. Apollyon turned back
to Satan and finished his statement slowly and discreetly.
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soon the rule over the weak and pathetic second-made creatures will
be mine.
Satan smiled as he watched this diverse set of emotions
attack both of their minds. He enjoyed this immensely as if he
was feeding off of their pain, pride, and arrogance; but his enjoy-
ment did not last long as his thoughts returned to the stage at
hand and his voice filled with rage as he considered all the facts
of their current situation. “You pathetic, worthless creatures,” he
began, trying to psychologically break them down until they felt
worthless, useless, and completely vulnerable. That was one of
his more cunning skills that he had used through the centuries—
breaking spirits down to the point that looking up meant seeing
only the face of Satan before them.
He looked at Gamaliel first and began his art. “You stand
here before me, trembling, filling up with self-pity and regret,
and you think you will be able to fight against Him.”
Gamaliel, nearing tears, turned his face from Satan’s gaze as
he continued to badger him.
“You will crumble and fall like a human because you’re as
frail and weak as they are. And you want to rule over them.”
He laughed in a haughty voice as Apollyon nodded. “And you,”
Satan said as he turned to Apollyon, who was standing there,
strong and proud. “You come down here to release me and think
that I will just lend my armies and my minions to you without
the price of blood from your veins first.”
Apollyon’s pride quickly sank into his belly at the sound of
his own blood and what that could mean.
“You have both come here with your thoughts and ideas like
some dream you conjured up, and you actually think that He is
unaware of your plots and your plans. Even on the other side of
the universe, He knows, and we will all be tortured horribly for
this.” Satan’s aura burst into black flames as rage filled within his
being; and it shot through his forearms as he grabbed the two
angels by the throats. “You have probably just increased my sen-
tence of eternal torture to endless servitude in His courts. Give
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me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill the both of you right
now.” His hands pulsated in flames as he squeezed the angels
tightly around the neck. His mind was raging wildly, and all his
thoughts pointed to, Kill them, just kill them both and flee for the
time being.
Words flopped out of Gamaliel’s mouth before he could real-
ize what he was saying. “But we released you,” he said, and Satan’s
hand burned deeper with flames all around the angel’s throat.
“As if that matters at this point!” he hissed. “You are in my
power now, and I do not allow the worthless and weak to live!”
“What he means,” Apollyon attempted to say, as Satan per-
mitted him very little air, “is that Mikael informed us that He has
been laboring on another creation that surpasses that of both man
and angel.” Apollyon’s face quivered in pain as the lack of oxygen
began to affect his mind. “You of all creatures should know how
He likes to get caught up in His work for long durations of time,
and if it hadn’t of been for Mikael in the beginning, you would
still be ruling Zion right now.” Apollyon finished these words in
exhausting desperation, trying to save both of their lives, know-
ing that they only had seconds left.
Satan’s pupils burned black as coal as he threw them to the
ground. Then his composure changed and his hand began to cool;
and he put a bony, pointed finger to his chin and said, “There is
something strange about all this now that I think about it.”
The two angels felt the burns around their necks softly but
still listened intensely to Satan’s every thought.
He began to pace in front of them, stroking his haughty
beard as if it was the source of his answers. “If He was coming,
He probably would have come by now, or else He would have
stopped you before you got here to begin with.”
Both angels nodded their heads yes, as if he had been speak-
ing to them intentionally.
“A third of the angels, the Son, and Metatron went with
Him?” Satan asked, staring at the two of them unexpectedly.
“Yes, and we have an oath vowed by about a third of the
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65
Something Special
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what this meant or what they should do; but everyone, except
for the mother, was extremely worried and nervous. The silence
was so thick that they could feel it choking their very spirits as
they stood there, confused, disoriented, and unsure of what to
do next.
Slowly, the mother placed the child across her shoulder; and
as she did, the blue silk that clothed her baby boy slid down his
back. No one moved, no one blinked, no one breathed as they
stood there frozen in astonishment by what their eyes were see-
ing. One small feather lay vertically along the child’s spine in a
mixture of three colors: gold, silver, and ivory.
The mother ignored their silence and their strong gazes as
she held the baby tightly in her arms. The mere shock of the
baby’s birth was frustrating enough and inconceivable at that.
The fact that he was born without wings was unimaginable,
and now the object that lay perfectly along his spine made this
phenomenon impossible. Even the feather itself, which they all
assumed was angelic, was abnormal, as the arrangement of colors
within it swirled around like a gently flowing stream constantly
rotating in a river of three colors. Each one of them stood there,
baffled and perplexed, as their minds struggled with the meaning
of this paradox with no inclination of an answer. Their eyes were
fixed upon this one unique little feather as their minds stood
in awe of the peculiarity of this child. Then the mother’s hand
gently brushed through the baby’s feather, grabbing all of their
attention at once. Each one of them looked up into Gabrielle’s
eyes, which were sparkling like pink sapphires, holding tears of
joy and love within them.
The five of them looked at each other with fragile hearts as
Gabrielle’s eyes showed the kind of compassion and love that
they had only ever seen in the depths of Jehovah’s eyes.
Raphael leaned over to Mikael and whispered softly, “So
what shall he be named?”
Mikael opened his mouth; but before he could speak,
Gabrielle had already interjected. “Adoniel,” she said confidently
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as she rocked the baby back and forth. Then she brushed the
small feather again with her fingers as if she was strumming her
harp and said, “It means, ‘God’s prince is with us.’”
The five of them looked at each other with continued confu-
sion of the multiple dilemmas this new baby was creating, which
now included a name full of meaning and more questions.
“Would you like anything to eat or drink, Gabrielle, maybe
some manna or talia?” Haniel asked softly.
She nodded her head yes without taking her eyes from the
child and added a please.
Mikael turned to the large, black lion that sat beside him.
“Aariel, we will return shortly after we have prepared her a meal.
Would you like us to bring you anything as well?”
Aariel’s big, white eyes took their gaze from the child just
long enough to say, “No, but thank you for offering,” and he
looked away again.
Aariel was Gabrielle’s scepatar; and though he took the form
of a lion, he was far from one. He was three times the size of an
earthly lion, with incredibly thick fur, a massive pair of wings,
eyes like white fire churning with dark pupils, and a startling
intellect. He had been by Gabrielle’s side through nearly every
test, task, and trial she had ever been in; and he thought briefly
about the angelic wars they had overcome, the creatures they had
imprisoned together, and the quests they had accomplished for
Jehovah. But none of those things compared to the magnitude
of importance that this demanded, which was causing him to be
both anxious and concerned to the point of no appetite, which
was extremely rare for him. So as the four great archangels left
Aariel’s side and walked to a ruby table on the far side of the
room, Aariel walked to Gabrielle’s side, deep in thought.
“You should have something to eat, my dear,” Gabrielle said
in a whisper, without taking her eyes from the child.
“I’m fine. How are you doing?” Aariel replied, feeling con-
cern and relief slowly growing in his heart.
She looked over at him with such radiance in her smile that
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no word was needed. He grinned back at her with his big, white
teeth; and Gabrielle laughed softly as the child, who was now
staring at Aariel as well, laughed lovingly too. Aariel gave the
little baby a wink, and the child giggled with laughter once more.
With every look at the child, he felt some ease sneak into his
spirit; and as he sat beside the two of them, he pondered many
things.
Seven years ago, he and Mikael had decided to bring Gabrielle
to this room, which is called the Guph, in the seventh heaven
of Araboth, due to a mysterious illness inflicting her. For seven
years, Aariel had been in her shadow, assisting her with every
need as always; but Aariel had been more than just worried about
his precious Gabrielle.
No angel of the heavenly hosts had ever fallen to an illness
before, especially not a great archangel, the highest rank of all
angels. These angels were known for their skill, strength, and
wisdom; and if any angel was to succumb to sickness, the last
sect thought possible would be them. So, for seven years, he and
Mikael had battled with the thoughts and theories of how this
situation had occurred.
In the beginning of her illness, Aariel worried very little
about her condition because he was certain that Jehovah would
return to Zion to take care of His mighty Gabrielle. Alas, He did
not return, adding even more puzzlement and perplexity to this
situation. Mikael reassured everyone that in his instructions left
by Jehovah, there was nothing foretold to him about this circum-
stance or what to do if it were to arise. Even Raphael, the healing
angel, with his book of Sefer Raziel, knew of no cure that would
work on his own kin; but he tried nonetheless, unsuccessfully.
Now the sickness was over, and the mystery of Gabrielle’s
illness was answered. On one hand, it was comforting to finally
understand the pain and agony that she had endured for the past
seven years. On the other hand, it would have been much easier
to attempt to explain an illness than a pregnancy to the angelic
hosts of Zion; but for now, the relief that Gabrielle’s illness was
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over and that she was recovering rapidly was comforting enough
for Aariel to relax and get some much-needed rest.
So, with a stretch of his paws, he glanced over at a baby boy
that was smiling at him again with as pure a love as Jehovah
Himself. Aariel nodded his head at the child, and the child
blinked back at him with curious eyes of understanding. The
baby cuddled warmly in his mother’s neck; and for a moment,
Aariel thought that he had seen a strange blue light shining in
the child’s eyes. But it quickly faded as he shook the thought
from his mind and rested his head upon the pearl floor, feeling
comfort and ease pour into his spirit.
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not a single angel has spawned any offspring with humans, beasts, or
angels alike.
Mikael shook his head in disbelief as he placed his last paul-
dron over his shoulder. Jehovah Himself had taken away the abil-
ity for angels to reproduce with any other race of creation; but in
front of him was a baby birthed by Gabrielle, a great archangel of
the Angelic Host. He looked up and took another glance at the
small child whose feather was being rustled by his mother. No
child in his remembrance of angel, human, Nephilim, or Grigori
had ever been born with just a single feather. Even the Nephilim
and Grigori had either a complete set of wings or none at all, as
far as he could remember.
Mikael took his large, golden shield and wrapped it around
his broad shoulders and over the garnet back of his robe. Then
he thought about the very room they were in and how bizarre it
was that the Guph was the place where souls were ushered in for
the children of humans during the span of Adamic history. Now
the Guph would be known as the first place of angelic birth since
the installment of the Beka oath. What he once thought was a
mysterious illness was now turning into the biggest mystery in
angelic history. He sighed in exhaustion as he picked up his large
crown and placed it upon his head.
Then another thought surfaced upon his mind that made him
feel weak and disoriented beyond any problem he had thought
of yet. Gabrielle, the great archangel, and ruler of Shamain, had
broken an angelic commandment from Jehovah.
This entire situation is a disaster, he thought; and he needed
time with his closest consultants to discuss any ideas and theo-
ries they might have on this catastrophic event that was rapidly
unraveling. He knew that he could not speak openly to the oth-
ers in the presence of Gabrielle, for she was more attached to the
child than he could have ever imagined; but more importantly,
she was not to be insulted by the words and thoughts that they
must soon discuss.
He took his great sword, which was his scepatar from Jehovah,
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with its pearl white handle and amber prongs that majestically
engraved his name in angelic script on the blade, and slid it into
his crystal sheath. Before they could retrieve some food and drink
for Gabrielle, they would have to spend a good deal of time in
his quarters of Machonon and discuss how to handle this crisis at
hand. As Mikael’s wings of white and gold spread out in a long
stretch behind him he rustled his feathers in dismay. Then a deep
voice sounded in his ears, and he strayed out of his thoughts and
back into the room of the Guph.
“Mikael are you ready?” Raphael asked again as he shook
Mikael’s shoulder with a curious look upon his face.
“Yes. Yes, I am, Raphael. Thank you,” Mikael said, as he
drifted back from his deep thoughts.
Raphael nodded in complete understanding of the major
responsibility and decisions that were about to take place as he
folded his blue wings and picked up his silver spear within his
hand. Uriel walked around the table and placed his bow over
his flaming red hair and across his fiery red wings that reflected
powerfully off of Haniels diamond chest plate. Haniel wore a
coat blended with thirty shades of green, and his snow white
hair was long and beautiful. Seeing that everyone was waiting on
him, Mikael turned and made his way toward the pearl door of
the Guph.
As he did, he took one more glance at Gabrielle, who sat in
a distant corner of the room. The child caught Mikael’s eyes first
with a smile full of love and adoration. Mikael felt tears sud-
denly form within him, as he struggled not to allow them to race
down his cheek. He looked up from the child toward Gabrielle,
who caught his eyes in midair and winked with appreciation
and delight. He smiled at her compassionately and looked down
at the child once more. As he did, the vision he had seen once
before flashed before his eyes again. A silver scroll on a golden
pulpit shining like a blue star blossomed in Mikael’s mind and
then faded.
Mikael swayed a bit on his feet, and Raphael patted him
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along closely, but became a little shocked when Mikael flew out
of the circlet and into the fifth level of JA’EL instead of going
down to the first level, where the garden could be reached easily.
“I thought we were going to get Gabrielle something to eat,”
Uriel said to Haniel.
“We are, I think,” Haniel responded, unsure of himself.
“But shouldn’t we have flown down to the first level for food?”
Uriel questioned again, this time directed at Raphael.
Raphael was already agreeing with the statements that both
of them made, but it was apparent to him that Mikael had other
plans than just getting Gabrielle some food.
The great archangels flew fast through JA’EL, which was
massive in size, being the heart of the mountain. The rainbow
people lived there, and it was also the place where the begin-
ning and end of infinity meet. It was a vast desert of silver sands,
where the air was both empty and full at the same time. This odd
phenomenon was called JA’EL, and thus the angels have called
it ever since.
Raphael was not often surprised by Mikael’s actions, being
the wisest of the five great archangels; but he was truly puzzled
by their direction. He thought of many places they could be
headed, such as the chambers of wisdom or maybe the store-
rooms of thanksgiving; but if they were going to these places,
he didn’t really understand why. Nothing in his mind within any
of the seven heavens would be able to help them with the issue
of the child, which he knew was the problem Mikael had on his
mind.
The four of them flew with great speed toward the western
archway called Saturn; and their powerful wings pushed through
the light air easily, creating a slight dust storm behind them. As
they did, some of the rainbow people below had to cover their
faces with their wings as the sand spun around them like a twister.
The rainbow people were a race of angels who only existed
within the realm of JA’EL, and the great archangels waved their
hands in pardon as the angels below courteously accepted. They
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name. Drop would take the freshly extracted soul and place it
into a pot called the Potter’s Coil. The pot held within it water
from the river Yessedekeus, which flowed from the throne of
Jehovah; and when the time was proper, Drop would take the
soul and place it into the spirit of the newly developing embryo.
When the soul rested into its place within the spirit, Shekina
would come along to fulfill her purpose.
Shekina is the most radiant of the three Mahanel. She was
also one of the very few angels to have a golden halo that floated
above her long, black hair at all times. Shekina was responsi-
ble for the nurturing of the soul while it matured in a mother’s
womb. Five drops of water from the Potter’s Coil was needed at
various times during the soul’s development to ensure a complete
and healthy soul.
The Mahanel were joined by one other Galgalim at times,
who is named Eloa. Eloa had no formal responsibilities as the
others did and was created from a tear that fell in the garden
of Gethsemane by Jesus Christ. When Eloa had reached Zion,
she soon became known as the most compassionate angel ever
created. At times, she would give her compassion to a very spe-
cial soul when captured by Sangrariel. Eloa loved to take a tear
from her eye and place it across a captured soul when Sangrariel
was distracted. Most angels have agreed that Mother Theresa
received her gift of compassion from Eloa on such an occasion as
this, but Eloa has never confirmed this rumor.
All these things took place in a very special room called the
Guph, which was the dwelling place of the Mahanel. When
Earth was destroyed, so was the staff. The new bodies of the
humans who had been placed in Eterni had all been infused with
the life of the Sulsan star, therefore allowing humans to create
pure souls themselves once more. The Mahanel have been miss-
ing from Zion since the creation of Eterni.
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Cherubim
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called since the day of their creation, and the females of this sect
have been charged with keeping the seventh hall saturated in
praises to Jehovah at all times. Uriel was the most popular of the
four great archangels passing through the hall, mainly because
he had spent what little free time he had the last couple of years
walking through their domain and soaking in the praises to the
Almighty. Even though Jehovah was not presently in Zion, the
cherubim never ceased singing. Even during earthly times, when
Jehovah was rarely present upon His throne the cherubim con-
tinued to sing, awaiting His blessed arrival with joy and anticipa-
tion in their hearts. Uriel loved Jehovah as much as any of these
cherubim, and he found himself drawn to this hallway more than
ever in these changing times. He was well-aware that Jehovah
loved to wander throughout His creation, performing miracles
here and there and venturing out to the ends of the universe,
working on vast projects of importance; but things were some-
how different from what they used to be during earthly times.
Since the beginning of Eterni, Jehovah had not returned,
not even once, to the heavens of Zion; and an awkward feeling
was growing throughout the kingdom that the cherubim seemed
to notice more than any of the other angels—except for Uriel,
who was well-aware of this strangeness burdening the cheru-
bim. It was that very strangeness that compelled him to spend so
much time in the seventh hall, worshiping and meditating upon
Jehovah’s intentions. No matter how long Jehovah was separated
from Zion, Uriel knew that he could find rest in the seventh hall,
listening to their beautiful hymns and lullabies as all of them
eagerly awaited Jehovah’s return and His answers to the confus-
ing issues evolving in their world.
As Mikael walked down the hall, the sounds of the cheru-
bim seemed like honey on his lips, as if he could taste the very
praises from their mouths. He turned his head behind him and
glanced at the others walking in a utopia of praises, with little
care or concern resting upon their faces. He turned his head back
around in satisfaction of his plan that was working so well. For
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now, the trip down the seventh hall was allowing each one of
them adequate time to be comforted from the heavy burdens
they had been carrying. He hoped, when they eventually reached
his chambers in Machonon, that they would all be well-prepared
to discuss the seriousness of the issues that were now at hand.
The cherubim themselves were actually quite intrigued
by the appearance of four great archangels walking together
amongst their halls; and as they continued down the path toward
the entrance of Zebul, the sixth heaven, whispers and curiosi-
ties blossomed within the cherubim’s minds. The curiosity came
from the unusual appearance of four great archangels walking
together at the same time. This was so uncommon because the
absence of Jehovah, for such a long duration, had kept each one
of them, who each rule a heaven of their own, too busy to spend
time with one another or leave their heavens unattended for too
long. Uriel was the only one that the cherubim were not sur-
prised to see, and many of them winked and smiled flirtatiously
as he passed them by.
The hall was a long walk that the four of them enjoyed immea-
surably; and with each step, they felt lighter and more vibrant,
cleansed and refined. The end of the hall was nearing into an
archway called Shechem, where the room of divine prophecies
began inside the fifth level of Zebul. Mikael looked back at the
others following him again, and they were still unconcerned with
their direction, as they enjoyed the last of the cherubim’s songs.
Everyone except for Raphael, who Mikael could tell was again
trying to unravel the mystery of their course with every step they
took.
As the great archangels reached the end of the seventh hall,
Mikael soaked in the last of the praises from the cherubim, who
were still smiling curiously as he passed them by. Behind them,
the whispers from intrigued and inquisitive cherubim continued
softly underneath their melodies. Shechem, the northern arch-
way, now stood before them; and Mikael watched as the small
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brook of Yessedekeus flowed past his feet into Zebul where the
Holy Hayyoth resided.
This heaven of Zebul was referred to by most angels as “the
pearl” because the entire mountainous heaven was formed com-
pletely out of pearl, and held within its stone was the knowl-
edge of the ages. Seven mighty cherubim and the seven glorious
gonfalons made up what was known as the Holy Hayyoth, and
their quarters were upon the first level of Zebul. Small flowers
and numerous birds frolicked together along the hallway as they
walked through Shechem. Then, as the room of divine prophe-
cies opened up to greet them, Pyre and Tinder, two of the seven
ruling gonfalons, jumped in the air and hurried to welcome them
excitedly to their heaven.
“We would have prepared a much more elaborate welcoming
than the two of us if we knew that four great archangels would
be blessing us with their presence today,” Tinder and Pyre said
simultaneously as they both bowed low before them.
Their bodies were of pearl white as if they were made of the
very essence of the heaven they resided in; and their wings were
made of a unique red, specifically made by Jehovah for the seven
glorious gonfalons and never used again on any other creation.
The red was like living fire highlighted with blue flames at all
times, and the only differences between each of the seven gon-
falons were their beaks and their eyes, which gave them their
distinctions. Tinder’s eyes and beak were like burning orange
coals while Pyre’s were painted like the oceans of old, blue and
powerful.
The two gonfalons were still bowing low when Mikael said,
“Thank you, Tinder and Pyre, but that would not be necessary.
We have come swiftly, and in the same manner must we leave.”
Hastily, Mikael looked about the opening into the room; and
Raphael scanned the area before them, partially understanding
what Mikael must be up to. Then Mikael quickly moved past
the two gonfalons in front of him, and Raphael began to think
quickly of a good diversion for him. He knew that the issues
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felt the sore parts of their wings as they pondered the awkward reac-
tion by Raphael and began to wonder what Mikael was up to.
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not really as they appeared to be. He did not want to let Jehovah
down; but at the same time, he felt that the problems he was fac-
ing were out of his hands and getting out of control. Never had
he felt such a violent tremor of cold and heat run through his
body from a prophetic scroll. Now the question running through
his mind was, Do I or do I not try to read this scroll again?
He looked down the long hall of amboneese to Shechem,
where Raphael was holding a small, silver glass and motion-
ing for Mikael to speed up the process while Haniel and Uriel
munched on some cookies and crackers. Pyre and Tinder had
apparently left to see if there were any other disturbances in any
of the other levels just like Mikael would have done in this situ-
ation. He knew a decision had to be made right then and there;
and with a turn of his head, he shifted his eyes in the direction
of the scroll again. He closed his eyes gently and freed his mind
of all the things that had occurred, all the problems he must face,
and the answers he must find. He separated his spirit from all
the uncertainties of the world; and in a slow, waking motion, he
opened his eyes upon the scroll. A burst of heat and cold more
intense and more directed at him personally fell over his being;
and he collapsed from the feeling. In his mind, he heard a voice
which he had not heard in over a thousand years say, “This is the
purification of all things.”
What? was the only thing that came to his mind as his eyes
attempted to recover from their momentary blindness. In the air
above him, Pyre and Tinder were flying back toward Raphael,
Haniel, and Uriel, distraught by another burst of the same strange
feeling sweeping over their wings. Kurios in every direction were
alarmed again and were heading for the closest exit out of the
room of divine prophecies. Mikael looked back over the ambonis
in utter bewilderment and reached down to the scroll without
looking at it to try to pick it up. A freezing cold jolt shot through
his fingers, and he grabbed his hand, suddenly shouting, “All
right! All right! All right!” As the words passed his lips, some
of the kurios flying by gave him an odd look. He smiled at them
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“Would you like the Hayyoth to take a look into this matter
for you, or—?”
Tinder was cut off as Mikael said, “No. I will see to this
myself.”
The gonfalons made a small bow, and Mikael continued.
“I have other matters to attend to now, but I will return shortly
to look further into this issue. For now, appoint some guards at
the four entrances, and do not allow anyone inside unless I have
given them permission.”
The gonfalons bowed low once more and stayed bowing for
quite longer than Mikael needed. Gonfalons were very respect-
ful beings and took greetings and good-byes very seriously, but
Mikael did not have time for a strung-out departure.
“Thank you for your cooperation in this matter. I promise I
will return shortly,” Mikael said as he gathered the two of them
up. “I will be waiting for you in my chambers to bring me those
limes.”
“Yes, sir,” the two gonfalons recited as they burst into white
flames and flew off at the speed of light toward the circlet and
down into the levels below.
“What was that all about?” Haniel asked.
Mikael looked at him; and many thoughts crossed his mind as
he said, “That is something we will all have to talk about later.”
“Why did you send them all the way to the ends of the island
just for some of those bright, green, juicy, delicious … ?” Uriel
stuttered off, licking his fingers at the thought of the sweet taste
of some linden limes.
Mikael rolled his eyes and motioned for them to follow him
quickly to an ambonis near the eastern side of the room, where
a metallic scroll sat unopened. The others followed him hastily,
eager to see what Mikael had found—all except for Raphael, who
knew what Mikael was doing because he had showed him this
little trick centuries ago.
“Is this what you were looking for?” Haniel said intriguingly
as he walked next to Mikael beside the ambonis.
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Uriel. I have not forgotten. But first we must discuss the urgent
issues we are facing in my office.”
They all nodded their heads in agreement as the mysterious
thoughts of the baby Adoniel began to rotate back within their
minds, and they semi-understood now why they had not gone to
the garden in the first place. They all knew deep down that this
discussion was coming, but they had left the hard questions that
they must ask and face in the seventh hallway of the cherubim.
Now these questions were racing back to their minds at an unwel-
come pace. The only thing that was keeping them smiling was the
breathtaking view of the center of their kingdom of Zion.
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The Garden of Eden
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honey, fruits, nuts, and whatever else you can gather as quickly as
you can and bring them to my chambers.”
Pachdial had a look of confusion on his face, but he had been
well-trained in the art of taking orders and immediately erased
his own questions and submitted to Mikael’s request.
“Yes, sir. I will get that for you pronto. Will that be all?”
Mikael nodded as he turned to walk toward his chambers.
The others followed closely behind him; but you could clearly
hear Pachdial’s powerful voice behind them, talking to himself,
resolving the situation.
“Let me see now. Kfial was up in the Thanksgiving store-
room, and Avial was guarding the front entrance earlier. It will
be much easier for Avial to gather these things. Yes. Yes. I will get
him. Oh, and the royal bowl … ”
Mikael looked around at the appearance of his first level and
saw that everything was in order, just as it should be. The golden
cypresses were trimmed neatly, the emerald waterfalls had been
redirected to give the new gold berry bushes some life, and the
white thunderstorms above were looking ripe for a shower. He
could see that easily from the golden raindrops racing through
the clouds. Yes. Everything was in order except for his thoughts,
which were very sporadic.
“Pachdial has been a little edgy lately, you think?” a voice
sounded in Mikael’s ears.
“Huh. Oh yeah. I guess,” Mikael said disconcertedly.
Raphael looked at Mikael, knowing all the troubles of Zion
were weighing heavy on his mind.
“We will solve all these issues soon, Mikael. Don’t worry,”
Raphael said encouragingly.
Mikael nodded his appreciation of Raphael’s concern and
turned to look ahead at his chambers in the southern tip of the
first level.
Mikael had been the first great archangel to set up an office
after the fall of Lucifer from his post in the sixth heaven. Lucifer,
who had placed his chamber in the sixth level, constantly com-
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The Discussion
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Haniel sat his horn down lightly. “Well, He must know about
all of this, Mikael. He knows all things, and no secrets are hidden
from His eyes, and—.”
“Yes. I am sure Jehovah knows,” Mikael interjected as he
took a sip from his goblet.
Haniel continued on, ignoring Mikael’s interruption. “So
why isn’t He here then? This is no simple problem!”
“I understand your concern. And, to be honest with you, I
have no idea why Jehovah has not returned,” Mikael replied as
he spun the wine around in his goblet. “My thoughts have been,
so far, that if He was going to come, He would have come seven
years ago when Gabrielle was sick. So, obviously, He wants us to
handle this on our own.”
“But how did it happen? You know that reproduction
amongst the angelic race has been banished for thousands of
years by the Beka Oath spoken by Jehovah Himself after the
Watchers and—.”
Haniel was interrupted again as Raphael interjected this
time.
“We are all quite aware of the oath. We were all there, and
the problem is how she delivered a child after He spoke this oath
or how she even became of child in the first place,” with these
words Raphael took out an ancient book from within his blue
robe that looked older than the ages of time and began thumbing
through it gently.
“Well, maybe He wanted her to have the child,” Uriel said
as the others gasped. “What? The child is here, so, obviously, He
wanted her to have it,” Uriel said in defense against the looks he
was being given.
Then Mikael and Raphael both sat back and contemplated
this comment for a moment.
Haniel, on the other hand, was quick to denounce this theory
right away. “He doesn’t go back on His word, Uriel. Once it’s
spoken, that’s the Law.”
Uriel snapped back immediately. “Oh, what? Like He didn’t
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change His mind with Abraham several times when they were
arguing about Sodom and Gomorrah in the desert?”
Haniel shrugged his shoulders in response to Uriel’s reply.
“So! He has changed His mind plenty of times when it comes
to humans, but never angels. That’s different,” Haniel said
haughtily.
Uriel looked ready to argue back another point, but Mikael
held his hand up to the two of them. Haniel grabbed his emerald
horn as Uriel tipped up his ruby chalice; and they both drank
heavily, peering at each other over the rims of their cups. Mikael
set his hands on the table, strumming them, unimpressed by the
lack of depth so far in their conversation.
Haniel sat his horn down first and said, “So, what is to be
done with this child then, Mikael? Do we keep him and Gabrielle
locked in the Guph until we have answers and reasons to this
madness or until Jehovah returns?”
“Or do we show him to the thousands of myriads of angels
who will be plagued with just as many questions and concerns as
we have now, or maybe even more?” Raphael commented, looking
up from his little, tattered book. Mikael was well aware of these
concerns and questions and knew that if the child was discovered
by the hosts of angels, more questions would soon follow; and he
lacked the answers for all of them. Nevertheless, he thought that
it was unjust to keep Gabrielle and the child in the Guph, like
prisoners. And with that idea, he began to speak.
“She will not stay in the Guph much longer, nor should she
have to,” Mikael said as all their ears tuned in sharply. “She has
spent over seven years in the Guph, hidden from her brothers
and sisters. We cannot ask her to stay locked away like a captive
any longer.”
“She broke a commandment, Mikael!” Haniel said loudly,
and the room fell silent again. Uriel and Raphael both looked at
Haniel harshly, and Haniel mirrored a similar look back at them.
Mikael held his head down low, looking into his goblet, search-
ing for some sympathy, but finding none.
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yet. That’s all.” With that, Haniel sat back in his chair, satisfied
with his input.
Mikael appreciated Haniel’s honesty, and what he was saying
was true; but it did not feel like the right answer inside his spirit.
Mikael felt as if he couldn’t think anymore; and somewhere deep
within him, he knew that this could not be Gabrielle’s fault, nor
should she be punished for it.
“I do agree with Haniel,” Mikael said, almost as shocked as
everyone else at the words that came out of his mouth. “We will
ask Gabrielle to stay in the Guph to rest and heal for a while
longer, but I do not feel right about keeping her locked up there
forever. And we will have to have further discussions about that
issue soon enough.”
“Then what of the child?” Raphael asked in a calm, deep
voice.
“There is no privilege or goal we will accomplish by hiding
the child either. When the time is right and the child has aged a
little, they will both be free to their home here in Zion. Besides,
Gabrielle loves that child more than life itself. From the moment
he was born, you could see it in her eyes. To make her keep him
a secret would destroy her, and I will not have that,” Mikael said
with an eerie finality.
“But what will we tell the hosts of angels about the child?”
Haniel said as he raised his hand up to one of the almond branches
that had been moving near him.
“The truth,” Mikael replied quickly.
Haniel’s eyebrows rose up in a sarcastic gesture to Mikael’s
reply as a few almonds fell from the branch into his hand.
“Or at least what we know as the truth, Haniel,” Mikael
said shortly. “The heavens have been blessed with a child. And
though his purpose and birth is still a question, he shall be loved
by all who fly amongst these heavenly halls.”
“But what about the father of the child, Mikael? Could it be
possible that the Mahanel are responsible for this and brought
Gabrielle a child?” Raphael asked curiously.
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moved within the feather that was so strange. It was the familiar-
ity of it that was.
“As for the theory of the Mahanel, even if they were around,
I don’t believe they could have given Gabrielle a child. They were
the angels of soul placement, not of making children. Gabrielle
was ill, and I needed a place to put her where she would be able
to rest away from others, so I placed her in the Guph,” Mikael
said as he took another drink.
Then Uriel thought of something horrible. “But if the child is
human and the Mahanel have been missing since Armageddon?
Does he have a soul? I mean, he will need a soul, won’t he?” Uriel
shouted in utter horror.
Silence spread across the room with dark thoughts spreading
in each of their minds.
“That is quite a complication, Uriel, beyond anything I
have foreseen thus far,” Mikael said, very disturbed by this new
revelation.
“What kind of child could this be? Or worse, what will this
child end up to be if it is human and has no soul?” Raphael ques-
tioned, flipping through his ancient book a little faster.
“We have a soulless child with no father, whose mother is a
great archangel, and he has a strange little feather on his back.
What a mess,” Haniel said as Uriel nodded at him in surprised
agreement again.
“That’s twice I have agreed with you in this conversation,
Haniel. Don’t let it happen again,” Uriel said sarcastically.
Haniel almost choked on the helin in his mouth as he and
Uriel laughed.
“We don’t know that the child is completely human. We don’t
even know that the child does not have a soul or that he needs a
soul. The child could be completely spirit just as we are if he is a
full-blooded angel, and then he would not need a soul,” Mikael
said, trying to work this puzzle aloud. “We cannot make all kinds
of assumptions that we could be completely wrong about and
cause all of us even more confusion.”
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“Didn’t it take the women of Earth who bore the sons of the
Watchers seven years to give birth?” Raphael asked without rais-
ing his head from his book.
“Yes. I seem to remember that being the case,” replied
Haniel.
“But human births only took nine months, right?” Uriel asked
as the others nodded their heads yes.
“And how long has Gabrielle been in the Guph?” Raphael
asked.
“Seven years three days ago,” Mikael replied.
“Hmmm. This is all so … so … ”
“Weird,” Uriel finished for Raphael with a tip of his chalice.
Raphael looked at Uriel in concurrence as he reached for his
own silver glass.
“So many questions remain about this child,” Haniel said,
shaking his head, baffled beyond belief.
Mikael placed his golden goblet on the table and said, “That’s
not the only thing concerning me.”
The other three paused and looked at him with great exhaus-
tion on their faces as if they could take no more complications to
this overwhelming problem.
“Everyone felt that sweep of heat and cold flow through the
fifth level when we were in Zebul earlier, right?” Mikael asked.
Everyone leaned into the table, worried and nervous at what
Mikael was about to reveal to them.
Mikael took one gulp of helin and sat down his goblet again.
“I had a vision when I first saw the boy of an ambonis with a
glowing prophecy scroll.”
“A vision? Angels don’t have visions,” Uriel said, awestruck.
“That’s the best way I know how to describe what happened,
Uriel. So just listen,” Mikael said irritably.
Uriel nodded his head apologetically, and Mikael continued
his story. “Well, that’s why I took us into the room of divine
prophecies instead of here first. So I could look for that prophecy
I had seen.” They all shook their heads in disbelief that Mikael
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four of the great archangels sipped the helin from their glasses in
deep, deep thought.
“So that’s why you don’t want anyone in the room of divine
prophecies? Because of that scroll?” Haniel asked as Mikael nod-
ded his head.
“We can’t afford for others to find that, if they could even
read it, until we know what it is and what it means,” Mikael said
“You know, there is something else strange going on in the room
of divine prophecies,” Raphael said, placing his tethered book on
the table. “Pyre and Tinder were telling us that there has only
been one prophecy in the last seven years, and it just recently was
created.”
Mikael choked on the helin in his throat at the sound of this
news.
“They told you that?” he asked, and Raphael nodded his head
in concurrence.
“Well, I definitely know which one they are talking about,”
Mikael said with an exhausted look on his face.
“You mean the ambonis you had a vision of is new?” Uriel
asked, perplexed.
“Brand-new,” Mikael said, and no one spoke for many
moments.
Then Mikael cleared his throat and began to speak as if he
was closing a long speech. “This child, his history, and his future
shall be a mystery to us all for some time. And until Jehovah
sheds some light into this mystery or the child’s future unfolds
before our eyes, I fear we will not know. But we shall watch him
closely and help him every step of the way that we can.” With
that, Mikael placed his crown Auster upon his head and stood
up from his chair.
Just then, the door slowly opened; and the gonfalon named
Pyre stood with a basket woven of multiple flowers from the
plains of Zion and an assortment of linden limes inside.
“Hello, my brethren. Here are the limes you requested of me
from the silver beach. Also, we have flown through the Sarara
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over the marble steps past Icestern and around Caelis, and the
report across the island is that all is well,” Pyre said as he bowed
low and laid the basket down in the doorway.
“And why shouldn’t it be?” Uriel said with a voice of reproach
as he clapped Mikael on the back. “Lucifer has been locked in
that pit for what, three, four hundred years now.”
“One thousand years three days ago to be exact,” Raphael
stated with his normal tone of accuracy.
“Wow!” Haniel said in amazement. “Has it been that long?”
Raphael nodded.
“See there. A thousand years without that old snake to deal
with, and not one real problem. Well, excluding … ” Uriel trailed
off as Mikael looked at him warningly. Uriel looked beyond
Mikael’s shoulder at Pyre, who was listening very intently.
“You know, I mean, seeing as we have those limes now, we
don’t have that problem any more,” Uriel said with a slight grin
of airiness.
“That’s true, Mikael,” Haniel said with a wink. “At least
Lucifer is one thing we will never have to worry about again.”
Just then, a deep, masculine voice fluttered through the room,
ceasing the present conversation.
“Here are the items you requested, Mikael, Raphael, Haniel,
Uriel,” the voice stated as he addressed each one of them
individually.
Mikael turned his head to see a large angel from the powers
sect with muscles throbbing in both biceps from the large bowl
of food he was carrying.
“Come in, Avial. Come in,” Mikael exclaimed, motioning
with his wing.
Avial carried the massive bowl full of more food than what
three angels together would be able to carry easily and set it gen-
tly on the jeweled floor.
“Avial, this is Pyre of the gonfalons,” Mikael stated as Avial
arose beside Pyre.
Pyre blinked his ocean blue eyes at Avial, who was gazing at
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the gonfalon, awestruck by his beauty and size. It was the first
time Avial had ever stood so close to one of the seven glorious
gonfalons of the Pearl, and he was amazed that Pyre was twice
his size.
“Good. Good. Thank you both so much,” Mikael said as
Uriel and Haniel grabbed the crystal turquoise handles of the
royal bowl. Pyre gave a brief bow and began to rise as Mikael
lifted the flowered basket from the floor.
“These limes are perfect,” Mikael said as he gave one of them
a gentle squeeze.
Pyre’s red feathers began to glow more intensely as he felt the
pride of a job well done.
“I will take my leave now, unless there is another task you
wish for me to do, Mikael,” Pyre said as they walked out of the
doorway facing the direction of the Golden Jubilee.
“That will be all, Pyre. You have done wonderfully. Tell the
others that I really appreciate your quick assistance and that I
will stop by Zebul in a short time to speak to all of you and take
a look at the room of divine prophecies.” Mikael bowed a short
bow to Pyre, and he bowed back to him in honor.
“There is one more thing, Mikael,” Pyre said as the dawn of
remembrance shone across his face. “Abraxas and Sophia offer
their greetings to you from Pleroma and bid you come and visit
when you have a spare moment.”
“Ah, yes. I will have to go sometime soon. It has been way too
long. Thank you for remembering that, Pyre,” Mikael said as he
patted the gonfalon on the wing.
“Well, farewell, my brothers,” Pyre said as he burst into a
white flame and was gone in the blink of an eye.
“Will there be anything else desired of me, Raphael?” Avial
said as he took a bow to them all.
“No. This should do nicely, Avial. You may return to your
post,” replied Raphael.
“Yes, sir,” said Avial as he rushed back through the door
toward the front jubilee of Machonon.
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“Sounds like the four of you have been getting a little rest-
less,” Mikael said thoughtfully as he checked Phlegon’s hooves.
“I believe we are all eager to get a little air beneath our wings,”
Yofiel said anxiously.
Mikael looked down and gave his chief throne a wink and a
smile. “Don’t worry, boys. We have plenty of places to go today,
and you will be feeling an excessive amount of wind under all
those wings.”
All four thrones shivered with excitement. Thrones were a
very special type of angel who took the form of a circular object,
much like a wheel; but they had many small, white wings and
thousands of eyes that were always watching from Mikael’s
chariot.
As he stepped lightly onto the chariots base, which was
engraved with golden suns, he grabbed his platinum reins that
lay upon it. With a gentle nudge, he gave the signal for flight;
and the wings of the four brothers and the four thrones simulta-
neously lifted the chariot off the ground but remained stationary
in the air, awaiting the second command to go.
Mikael took one last look at Raphael, Uriel, and Haniel, who
were preparing to make their way back to the Guph, to Gabrielle,
and to a little boy named Adoniel. Then he called each of his
horses by name. “Acthon, Eous, Phlegon, Pyrios,” and the four
brothers reared up with excitement, anxious to fly amongst the
seven heavens they knew and loved so well. Then he called out
to his four thrones. “Yofiel, Orifiel, Amriel, Zaphkiel,” and a tri-
umphant sound was heard from the thrones like a blast from a
horn.
“Let’s make a quick trip through Machonon, boys. And then
we will head to Shamain,” Mikael said as each of the horses and
the thrones spread out their wings in a massive array of power
and grace. Mikael pulled back on his reins and, with a powerful
thrust in a harmonious rhythm, the horses and thrones headed
toward the circlet of Machonon and into the second level.
Raphael, Uriel, and Haniel turned their heads to watch
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and Haniel carried one of the rarest royal bowls toward Araboth,
filled with all kinds of delicacies, the cherubim were nearly cer-
tain that their hunch about Jehovah was correct.
The five cherubim that had stepped off of their tiny jew-
eled hills to allow the three archangels onto the path now took
their places back in order and began singing softly again with big
smiles on their faces. All throughout the hall, the songs of the
cherubim were muffled with whispers, thoughts, and confirma-
tions of rumors. Raphael was worried that they were being way
too suspicious in all of their actions; but as he caught some of the
whispers of the hallway, he finally understood their thoughts and
smiled but felt pity and guilt as well.
“I think He is back,” a voice said behind him. “The Lord has
returned,” another replied. “Quiet. We must be proper and beau-
tiful if He should come into our midst. Let us keep singing in
hopes to see His glory,” Ardousius said as she rustled her feathers
and fixed her hair. Then all the cherubim, following Ardousius’s
lead, began to stand up straight, with their feathers stretched out
in a glorious array, and began to sing loudly and more beautifully
than Raphael had heard in a thousand years. He walked through
the hall, smiling and nodding as he passed; and in his mind, he
justified the fact that it was much easier to allow the cherubim to
continue to assume the guesses they had made.
Obviously, he could not tell them that Gabrielle had just had
a child and was very hungry, sitting with Aariel in the Guph,
rocking her newborn babe. So leaving the cherubim to their
assumptions was much easier than making excuses and apologies
for what they were actually doing—though it was sad to leave
them with this hope in their minds.
The excitement could be seen on every face and heard in
every voice as smiles swept across the hall like a wave of the
ocean. Suddenly, Uriel felt a shift of weight on the bowl; and a
small, red plum fell from his side and rolled onto a pile of jewels.
Each Cherub had its own specified hill of jewels to stand on,
and this particular plum rolled next to Shemariah, a beautiful
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cherub with wings of pinks and blues and a face made from the
purest light. Uriel looked beside him at Haniel, who shrugged
his shoulders with a look of innocence. They laid the bowl down,
and Shemariah smiled as she moved her foot slightly toward the
plum and rolled it over to Uriel, who was turning three shades
of red. Uriel quickly picked up the plum, smiled, and took the
handle on his side of the bowl.
Haniel leaned over to Uriel; and in a whisper, he said, “You’re
actually blushing,” as he shook the bowl again as if to knock out
another piece of fruit.
“Boonashay!” Uriel said quickly to Haniel, which was a
demand for immediate silence in the old angelic tongue.
Uriel moved a little faster toward the Saturn archway in
hopes that not too many of the cherubim would see his redden-
ing face. Shemariah gave a flirtatious laugh as some of the cheru-
bim around her whispered to one another, implying something in
the direction of Uriel. Uriel turned and smiled at Shemariah for
only a moment as he entered the cusp of the archway while she
began to sing, waving good-bye to him gracefully. A smile swept
across Uriel’s face longer than the Holy River as he slid into the
safety of the tunnel, far from the eyes of the cherubim. Haniel
chanced a glance at Uriel and quickly looked away. Uriel seemed
to be caught in a dream. As they passed out of Saturn’s archway
and into JA’EL, Haniel turned toward Uriel again with sarcasm
on his lips, when a red plum nailed him right in the face.
“What? Do you think that was funny?” Uriel said hotly, his
demeanor completely different from moments before.
“Actually, I thought it was hilarious,” Raphael interjected as
Haniel picked up a fruit from the bowl in preparation to return
the favor.
“Now, listen, you two. You’re not about to waste any more
good fruit on each other’s faces. We do not have the time for your
foolish squabbles. Gabrielle, I am sure, is tired and hungry. And
we have lingered long enough in the heavens without accom-
plishing what we set out to do to begin with.”
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decided to give to His beloved angels to set them apart from the
world but also a part of it. During the period of Earth, and now
in Eterni, waterfalls can and have been seen in every corner of
the land. Since the creation of the waterfall, every creature—
whether it be beast, man, angel, or Grigori—has enjoyed the
overwhelming peace and tranquility of a waterfall. So, Jehovah,
in His infinite wisdom, decided to make the white staircase as a
gift to the angels.
Now, do not misunderstand. The white staircase is not a
waterfall but rather a waterrise, where the white ocean flows up
to the island of Zion that exists high in the sky over the ivory
expanse. This may be hard to imagine since it defies all sense of
gravity and normality, but that is what makes it so special.
The water that flows steadily upward from the ocean below
rises continuously into the atmosphere until it reaches the shores
of Zion. From there, the water flows through the nine separate
rivers of the island: Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Gentle, Good,
Faith, Meek, and Prudence. The nine rivers make their way to
the Garden of Eden until they become the three rivers of milk
and honey, oil and wine, and the river of holy fire. The three trees
of God are set upon Golgotha; and beneath them, the three riv-
ers meet and flow down antiquo, the tunnel carved in the middle
of the island that releases the water back into the ocean. In this
way, there is a constant flow of water always running through
Zion.
Now, no other race has ever ventured up the staircase—and
not because of fear, wonder, or choice, but because of the Father’s
master plan. Many on the island of Zion have taken this as either
respect or as an insult. Some considered it respectful because
they believed the races did not feel they were worthy enough to
take the staircase to its harbor. Other angels felt insulted that the
races of Eterni did not desire to explore their world as they had
explored the entire land of Eterni.
However, the truth is that whenever explorers of any race
arrived at the white staircase, either by vessel or wings, they
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Environment
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taste like warm honey wrapped around his tongue, and a warmth
like an internal fire trickled within his blood. Then the liquid
rolled into his stomach, and he felt as if he had drunk an entire
pitcher of sour milk. His wings gave way a little, and he fell a
few feet in the air. With a brisk flutter of his wings, he was back
beside Apollyon and handed him back the black phial. Gamaliel
could tell that the immediate effect of the medicine had worn
off, but he did not feel happy or angelic. He just felt blah.
“I don’t think it worked,” Gamaliel said, looking at his
hands.
“Oh, it worked all right,” Apollyon answered with an evil
grin.
“What?” Gamaliel said in confusion.
“Oh, nothing. You’re just as bright as a luminary. That’s all,”
Apollyon said as he began to laugh loudly.
Something about Apollyon’s laugh almost made Gamaliel
cringe in disgust. Then, in one brilliant but disappointing thought,
Gamaliel understood fully what inestra did and didn’t do. The
phial did make him look like his former self—bright, happy, and
beautiful—but it did not change him inside. Never again would
he feel the peace he once knew; and though he couldn’t quite
remember what that was like, he already missed it immensely.
Apollyon’s moment of semi-compassion on his old friend
was gone, and he looked at Gamaliel with coldness in his eyes
as he felt the weight of the phial. “Next time, do not drink that
much of the elixir and you won’t be glowing like a star!”
Apollyon glided down to the ocean water and strategically
positioned himself a foot or two above the white waves. The
waves seemed to be reaching toward him, yearning to pull him
into their midst; but he was too wise and quick and used the
waves to splash some water on his golden black hair.
Gamaliel rubbed the finishing touches onto his robe and
knew that he smelled like a thousand dead fish or even some-
thing worse, like decaying death. Maybe that is what this oint-
ment does, he thought to himself. It makes you smell a million times
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worse than the abyss so no one will have a clue where you have been.
Gamaliel nodded his head in agreement with his own thought as
a small, silver glow spread out from the ointment and across his
body. As quickly as the glow came, it disappeared; and Gamaliel
smelled an instant cleanliness like the fragrance of fresh air or
new rain.
He looked down at Apollyon with excitement, anxious to tell
him that the ointment had worked, when he noticed the silver
glow flowing over Apollyon’s body as well. His smile suddenly
turned to a face of confusion though. The breaks of the waves
beneath Apollyon had begun to lose their rainbowish sparkle
and were turning a grayish black. This beach is getting weirder and
weirder by the second, Gamaliel thought; and he reached into his
robe, pulling out a special little box that held something of great
importance to him.
While the world of Eterni seemed to be changing all around
them, bringing immense danger close at hand, only one thing
was on Gamaliel’s mind. It wasn’t the knife-piercing sand, the
suffocating ocean, or Apollyon’s attitude. Not even the light
of the pearl white sky that seemed to be growing brighter and
brighter by the second, making his vision extremely blurred, was
of any concern to him now. Nope. All that mattered to Gamaliel
at this very moment was food, and in this small box held the
answer to his starvation. The box he held in his hands had many
carvings on the outside, glowing like tiny stars; and he smiled as
he opened the box and took a piece of fluffy white manna out to
eat. He knew that he would get hungry on this long, strenuous
errand; but he had never felt hunger like this before. He raised
his hand to cover his eyes from the light in an attempt to see
where Apollyon was.
He looked this way and that and finally thought he saw a
figure that resembled Apollyon just beyond him and screamed,
“Hey, would you like a piece of manna?” as he held out a separate
piece he had brought for Apollyon in the box.
Apollyon had, in fact, been floating right beside Gamaliel
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Zion
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crossing the edge of the staircase now, and the kingdom of Zion
would be within their view. He wished, at that moment, that, by
some miracle, his eyes would awaken from this nightmare he was
in; but as his wings flapped their last beat up and over the cusp
of the waterfall, a blinding light shot into his eyes, and blindness
filled him entirely.
Gamaliel nearly sideswiped Apollyon from the sudden blind-
ness that had knocked him off course. Apollyon, however, had
taken a last look back in the direction of where he thought the
abyss was located. Nevertheless, as he too had crossed over the
edge, the light was so powerful that his eyes were straining to
even stay open. They both tried painfully to look through the
light, searching for a sign of the beach; but nothing was visible
except the water below.
Apollyon grabbed Gamaliel by the arm and directed him
toward the current beneath them that was moving swiftly toward
the island. They glided close to the waters, allowing it to guide
them to the shores since there was now no other alternative as
their eyes throbbed in pain. Gamaliel felt a blur of vision begin
to return to his eyes; and as he looked to the waters below, he
began to see shapes of things following him in the water. The
white waves had become full of an array of mammals and tropical
fish speckled and dazzling in all kinds of colors. Miniature killer
whales and belugas jumped out of the water as large mandarins
and black seals tried to keep up with their pace. Gamaliel felt
something that resembled happiness flutter in his spirit, and a
smile etched its way across his face with much difficulty.
Then, as the fish and the other creatures slowly disappeared,
the white waters began to cease from beneath them, and they
fell upon the silver shore of Zion. Gamaliel rolled around in the
silver sand, speckled with flakes of gold, which he joyfully threw
in the air. Zion had been their home since the beginning of cre-
ation, before Eterni and Earth had seen its first formation; and
he had never been so happy to lie on its banks before. Gamaliel
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laid on his back with his wings spread out, rubbing his eyes and
listening to a chorus of birds somewhere nearby.
They had landed on the southern shore of Zion, which is
called the silver beaches, where the linden lime trees flourished
and many lorikeets and macaws resided. Gamaliel looked past
the tree line toward the kingdom that rested in the heart of the
island, knowing that neither he nor Apollyon had ever seen a
light this bright illuminating from its mountains.
The eerie brightness sent fear running through Gamaliel as
his hands continued rubbing his silver eyes to relieve the burning
sensation running through his retinas. Now that he had time to
think, the first thought that came to him nearly put him in shock.
He realized at that moment that the only possibility that could
explain this phenomenon was that Jehovah had finally returned
to Zion. After all this time, He has returned to His throne, waiting
for our arrival, for He knows the treasonous sins we have committed.
Gamaliel fell to his knees in horror of what would happen to him
by the wrath of Jehovah and began to weep, saying, “I’m sorry,
Lord. I’m so sorry.”
Apollyon picked him up roughly. “Quit apologizing and gain
your composure, Gamaliel. Composure!”
But Gamaliel could hardly stand. He lay almost faint within
Apollyon’s arms.
“That is not His light!” Apollyon said angrily as Gamaliel
stared at him mournfully.
“You … you really don’t think so?” Gamaliel asked in a trem-
bling whisper.
“Of course not,” Apollyon said as he let go of Gamaliel’s
robe, allowing him to fall to the ground. “His light is much more
powerful than this, or don’t you remember?”
Gamaliel hit the sand on his knees, and his hands grasped the
ground firmly. Some strength returned to his bones as Apollyon’s
words rested upon him, but he knew for sure that he did not
remember the light of Jehovah. He wondered at that moment
if he would ever remember Jehovah’s light; or worse, would he
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puzzle that had been scattered across his mind from the words
of Apollyon. This inestra liquid would keep them hidden from
the heavens and from the eyes of their brethren. They were fully
equipped to go into Zion as spies and not residents anymore.
Though he now understood their plan more fully, his spirit
seemed to sag inside at the comprehension of such a well-devised
scheme.
“Okay. I understand about the inestra, but what about this
light? It is still affecting us, and … ”
Gamaliel’s voice trickled off as Apollyon’s face turned into a
monstrous scowl.
“Didn’t I say that was enough questions, Gamaliel? Didn’t
I?”
These fits of rage were becoming second nature for Apollyon,
and Gamaliel was becoming quite accustomed to them and not
as frightened.
“Well, maybe you don’t have answers to all these questions
and that’s why you don’t want to answer them. What if we walk
into one of the heavens and the roof just crumbles right on our
heads? I don’t want to die because you don’t want to answer my
questions,” Gamaliel said with more courage than he expected.
Then, with a sudden burst of rage, Apollyon tackled Gamaliel
to the ground and held him by his robe. “Listen to me. The sand
is not attacking us. Our eyes are adjusting to the light, and our
physical forms haven’t changed at all. The light affects us only
because that is an internal variable which the potion does not
work against, but we are working ourselves against it. Now, we
are going into Shamain so we can talk to Sariel, whether you
want to or not. And if anything happens like it did before, then
we will deal with it then. No more questions, and no more snivel-
ing. You just made it out of the abyss, even when coming face-to-
face with the Dragon. Have some pride and respect, and act like
you have some wings on your back.”
Apollyon released Gamaliel’s robe violently and they both
stood up. Gamaliel, now for the first time, was beginning to feel
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real, pure anger flood through his veins. But he remained calm
for the most part, except for a strange twitching in his neck. He
turned his back to Apollyon and looked toward the high tops of
the seven mountainous heavens; but the light was still much too
bright, and he turned his gaze away. If he had to guess, he would
say the kingdom was shining seven times brighter than normal;
and he had to rub his eyes constantly to massage the pain away.
Gamaliel’s anger cooled down quickly; and he turned back
around toward Apollyon, who was beet red with anger. “That
light is just so bright, Apollyon. It made me think … well, of the
worse. I’m sorry. Please forgive me,” Gamaliel said, squinting a
little, trying to see Apollyon’s facial expression.
“Quit apologizing, Gamaliel. You sound like a human. You’re
an angel. Now act like it,” Apollyon said furiously.
Suddenly, Apollyon ducked. Gamaliel felt it too and ducked
down as well. They stared at one another for a few moments,
looking all around them. Apollyon finally stood up and pointed
in the distance toward the east. There in the distance were seven
streaks of light flying away as if they had just passed by the beach;
and Apollyon blinked a couple times, trying to make out what
it could have been. Unable to understand what had just hap-
pened, Apollyon turned his attention back to Gamaliel and qui-
etly said, “We are in for two long, hard days. I want you to stay
away from anyone whose name is not on that scroll, and do not
speak of anything you have seen unless I am present with you. If
our forms begin to change, if the environment starts to act funny,
if anything strange starts occurring, you tell me right away. Okay,
Gamaliel? Gamaliel?”
Gamaliel was staring at the seven streaks of light, but he also
seemed to be fading in and out of consciousness because of all
the massive changes they were going through. The responsibility
he was being entrusted with was so overwhelming that Apollyon
had to grab him by the shoulders and shake him violently to get
him to come back into focus.
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Gamaliel closed his eyes, hoping his thoughts would not con-
tinue to badger him; but it was no use. This isn’t what I wanted,
he told himself. I just wanted to rule in Eterni as a king over a few.
Now I have gone where I can never go back, and his heart sank mis-
erably again. He opened his eyes as another silver tear trickled
down his face. The tear fell to the stones below as a beautiful icy
rainforest caught his eyes from the distance.
The diamond trees of the Icestern in the eastern part of the
island scattered the countryside beside the kingdom. A white
trim highlighted the forest giving it the appearance of a living
star. This scenery of beauty always reminded Gamaliel of a sun-
set on Earth, where the sun would shine just behind the clouds as
it fell to the night. How sad it is, he thought, that no creature will
ever again see the sun after its destruction at Armageddon
Then Gamaliel attempted what he had been purposely avoid-
ing his entire flight over the island. He turned his eyes toward the
center of Zion, where the kingdom was still shining more bril-
liantly than anything he could ever remember. The seven heavens
appeared as a crown of glory with a halo of clouds circulating
in a spiral of golden colors. He felt exhilarated and inspired as
the light that was blinding him earlier seemed to replenish his
body where the holiness inside of him once dwelt. Then another
feeling swept over him as quickly as the first; and he felt that
the kingdom appeared as jagged teeth, clean and sharp, ready
to devour him as he entered their domain. He shook all over at
this thought, and it quickly passed away as he looked up into the
beauty of a single luminary burning above the kingdom in a mix-
ture of seven colors: yellow, red, orange, purple, green, white, and
blue. Then, in a magnificent blast, the sound of trumpets mixed
with a melody of harps sounded through the air. The music
seemed to tingle within Gamaliel’s wings, and he smiled at the
announcement of the dawning of a brand-new day in Zion.
As the music faded, Gamaliel found himself smiling and
trembling at the same time. His doubts continuously circled
around him like a flock of hawks waiting to feast upon a dying
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prey. What were they going to do, how would this ever work,
and what could be expected when they walked through the sil-
ver jubilee for the first time? He watched Apollyon in front of
him, who dove purposefully down toward the lower regions of
the mountains just above Purity, the forest of golden cyphers.
He followed his path into the radiance of the golden trees that
appeared as a forest of sunshine all around the heavens. Before
them were the heavens of Machonon and Sagun, where Mikael
and Haniel ruled.
Apollyon kept a safe distance from these two heavens, not
wanting to see either of these great archangels. He turned east
to fly around the borders of Sagun and Raquin on their way to
Shamain with the golden forest of cyphers right below them.
The forest appeared to be aiming their sharply pointed leaves
straight up toward the two angels as they flew by. The leaves bent
and twisted upon the branches as if to cut them as they passed.
Gamaliel was beginning to feel as if he could not distinguish
between reality and his imagination. Soon they were passing the
Heaven of Raquin, and Gamaliel looked down at the golden
cyphers again, and they still looked to be reaching with all their
might toward him for one chance to slice him open.
He looked away from the cyphers quickly as they flew around
the bend of Raquin and saw the first heaven of Shamain sparkling
as normal in its ruby red color and its silver jubilee. Gamaliel felt
something like cold chills running all through his body as they
landed before the ruby heaven. The silver jubilee was filled with
emerald and sapphire clouds, beautiful yellow stars, and walls of
a silver seven times silver.
Apollyon’s feet landed upon a patch of blue grass that spread
from the roots of the mountains and continued into the forest
of the golden cyphers. Gamaliel hovered carefully over the blue
grass with his toes pointed to the ground, waving them back and
forth to see how the grass was going to react to them. Apollyon
grabbed Gamaliel’s garnet robe and yanked him quickly to
the ground, looking all around to see if anyone was watching.
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Shamain
Apollyon and Gamaliel’s first steps into the Silver Jubilee were
extremely slow as they passed into the shadows of its hall.
Emerald and sapphire clouds intertwined themselves around
the heights of the inner hall as if they were experiencing some
tormentous rage that seemed focused at the two angels creep-
ing within its presence. The yellow stars of the gateway soared
through the walls in a panic as white strikes of lightning jumped
upon the clouds. Then a clamorous pour of thunder filled the
rooftops, sending Gamaliel flying into Apollyon’s arms as the
sound rolled by.
“Do you hear that, Apollyon? Do you?” Gamaliel whispered
frantically.
Apollyon pushed Gamaliel away and straightened his robe.
“Stay calm,” he said fiercely as he resumed his steps down the
long, thunderous hall.
A tiny bolt of lightning pounced onto Apollyon’s shoulder,
singeing his golden robe; and he patted out the smoke quickly as
the walls on either side of him raced with electricity. Apollyon
took a deep breath as paranoia gripped his mind and the thoughts
of the obstacles they would have to overcome began to over-
whelm him.
“I have never seen a jubilee act like this before,” Apollyon
said as he walked cautiously. “But how could that be after we
have taken the elixir?”
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“Do you think that even the gateways know what we have
done?” Gamaliel asked as a loud roar of thunder rolled over the
top of his head again.
“Shhh!” Apollyon gestured quickly. “Do not speak of such
things here.”
Gamaliel was nearly tiptoeing through the jubilee, and
Apollyon didn’t know what to do. He was so unbelievably unpre-
pared for this that he was becoming as angry with himself as he
was with everything else around him. We just got to get to Sariel’s
chamber, he thought, and out of this jubilee. Gamaliel was already
terrified of nearly everything around him; and as they neared the
end of the archway, a patch of golden mist swayed in the walkway
mysteriously. Gamaliel stopped dead in his tracks as Apollyon
passed him by, looking back at him in puzzlement. Apollyon
turned his head around and walked right through the golden
mist and into the region of Shamain.
Gamaliel felt some relief come over him at the sight of
Apollyon not getting attacked by the mist. So he followed behind
him very carefully. As Gamaliel passed through the mist, it began
to stick all over him like sap to a tree. He stumbled through
the edge of the archway, passed the two angelic guards, twist-
ing and flapping his wings, trying to knock the specks of gold
off of his robe, feathers, and skin. The two guards stared at him
with bewilderment. One said, “I’ve never seen mist act like that
before.” The other guard nodded his head in agreement.
Apollyon, with all of his cunning and cleverness, noticed
the reactions of the guards immediately and gave a bit of quick-
witted insight into the situation. “Don’t mind him, fellas. He got
into some nectar in the garden earlier and has had things sticking
to him all day long.”
The guards began to laugh happily as they watched Gamaliel
swatting off the last of the golden mist, appeased by the under-
standing that had been suggested by Apollyon. Apollyon felt a
little prick inside him as he realized that this was the first time
he had ever lied in his existence, and it was much easier than he
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the cool breeze and thought that he saw a slight sign of aggres-
sion in them.
Gamaliel was focused on a bright red glow hovering just down
the path where some malachim angels were tending to their stars,
an art which angels called astrofering. Malachims were some of
the craftiest angels Jehovah had ever created and the first to learn
the art of growing stars. In the luminary houses, stars were cre-
ated, nurtured, and farmed until they were strong enough to be
released into the universe. There were officially about two hun-
dred known astrofer’s amongst the malachim angels, and they
were a skillful group, yet humble in all they did.
“Well going, Leliel?” Apollyon asked smoothly as they
approached the angel with the red star. Leliel was wearing his
dark blue robe with little white stars woven within its threads
that were the customary uniforms of astrofers.
“I’ve got a hot yellow dwarf here that I think is about ready
to pop!” Leliel said as he held the star up like a prize hovering
above its pallasite container. “All well with you, Apollyon?” Leliel
asked courteously, clearly focused on his new star as he continued
walking.
“Things couldn’t be brighter!” Apollyon replied, smiling the
fakest smile he had ever worn on his face as they continued down
the path of jewels between the silver grasses.
“You got that right,” Gamaliel mumbled sarcastically as he
put a hand over his eyes, trying to see a little clearer down the
path. Apollyon swatted him in the chest.
“Do not draw attention to yourself.”
Apollyon wanted nothing more than to get out of the open
atmosphere within the first level and into the protection of
Gabrielle’s chamber, where Sariel was currently positioned as
overseer of Shamain. Sariel had been Gabrielle’s replacement
during her absence with her “illness,” and he had also been one
of the first angels to sign his name on the contract with Satan.
Sariel was an important element to the success of the rebellion
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taking place in Zion, and he was the first angel on a long agenda
of meetings that Apollyon wished to have —and quickly.
The jeweled path made a bend around some silver willow
trees that brought Gabrielle’s chambers into view; but Apollyon
stopped immediately and grabbed Gamaliel by the robe, throw-
ing him behind one of the largest willows. The round opal
door of Gabrielle’s chamber was open; and outside of the wall
was Mikael’s chariot, where the four brothers—Acthon, Eous,
Phlegon, and Pyrios—stood, making little movement or sound.
The thrones of Mikael’s chariot were always watching, and
they all seemed to be looking in the direction of Apollyon and
Gamaliel.
Apollyon turned to Gamaliel and said, “Mikael,” in a whis-
per; and the look on Gamaliel’s face said it all. Fear, embarrass-
ment, treachery, disloyalty, and grief were all wrapped up in
one expression. Apollyon looked as though he would strangle
Gamaliel right then and there if anyone saw such a look come
from him, but he knew that the eyes of the thrones were watch-
ing him carefully, so he stood there, patiently waiting and won-
dering. Then Apollyon turned rapidly back the way they came
and said, “Follow me.” He led Gamaliel back toward the astrofers
near a spring a fair distance away but in a good enough angle so
that Apollyon could still see the chariot.
As they waited, Gamaliel’s eyes wandered to the crystal clear
water of Yessedekeus flowing down from the clouds of the ceil-
ing. The ruby mountain rocks that guided the stream grew louder
and louder as both angels waited for Mikael to leave. Gamaliel
loved the springs of Silivine, and he loved the tiny white ducks
with silver spots that waded in the spring even more. He reached
into his robe and pulled out the last little piece of manna that
he had brought for Apollyon on their trip. The ducks swam up
beside him, and Gamaliel divided the manna between them.
“You are just overflowing with evil, aren’t you, Gamaliel,”
Apollyon said with a cynical expression.
“What?” Gamaliel said innocently. “I am partial to these
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moon that could be separated into two large doors when a pass-
word was spoken. As Gamaliel gazed upon the door, he read the
inscription placed above it, which said, “Gabrielle, God Is My
Strength, Ruler of the First Heaven of Shamain.”
Apollyon looked around and spoke very clearly at the door,
“Asonya Benase Erae,” which were the three angelic names for
the moon of Earth and the password into Gabrielle’s chambers.
The moon-shaped door split into two halves like an eclipse, and
Apollyon and Gamaliel quickly walked inside as the door shut
behind them.
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“Apollyon, Gamaliel, how very good to see the two of you, and in
such a proper moment,” Sariel said as he stood up joyfully from his
onyx chair. Sariel made his way around the large table and placed
his hands upon both of their shoulders, giving them an impres-
sive and questioning smile. After a long, awkward moment when
no words were spoken, Sariel released them and said, “Come on.
Sit down. Sit down. I am sure you are both exhausted, but you
look as if you have just returned from a vacation. I would have
thought … well, where the two of you were going … I did not
expect.” Sariel stopped as Apollyon looked at him with a furious
curiosity in his eyes. Sariel turned his gaze carefully away from
him and finished his thought. “I am just saying that the two of
you look wonderful, not a blemish to your skin or to your robes.
That’s amazing!”
Gamaliel sat down in one of the four other onyx chairs that
were placed before the triangular table and said, “Yes, well, the
dark one has many ways of camouflaging his servants, doesn’t
he?” Just then, an apple fell upon Gamaliel’s head from one of the
branches growing on the ceiling of Gabrielle’s chamber. “Well,
that was uncalled for,” Gamaliel said as he rubbed the back of his
head, picking up the apple angrily.
Apollyon looked at the tree curiously and then went straight
into conversation. “We saw Mikael’s chariot outside and waited
by the spring until he left. What did he have to say?”
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was soaking up from the two angels, “Mikael has just informed
me that I will be taking this post for a lot longer than I expected
and possibly even permanently.”
The others gasped as Sariel sat back in his chair and grinned
boastfully.
“Impossible!” Apollyon said.
“Are you serious?” Gamaliel snickered, thinking Sariel couldn’t
possibly get any fuller of himself or any more like Apollyon for
that matter.
“Have I ever lied before?” Sariel said with an eyebrow raised.
He poured some blulayain wine out of a silver flask into a long,
green glass of peridot. The blue wine sparkled with diamond dust
shimmering inside as Sariel motioned to pour them each a glass
as well, and they gratefully slid their glasses toward him.
“Well that’s the news from this end, so what happened with
the two of you?” Sariel asked as he drank half his glass with one
swallow.
“He’s free, and we nearly paid for it with our lives,” Gamaliel
said as Sariel’s mouth dropped.
He looked at the two angels, soaking in the finality of what
they had done, and said, “I was quite sure that he was going to
kill the two of you without even letting you speak a word. I really
didn’t know if you would actually go through with it or not,”
Sariel said as he took another drink and refilled his glass.
“Thanks a lot,” Gamaliel replied.
Apollyon motioned for Gamaliel to stop talking as he said,
“I know, but the task has been completed now, and even as we
speak, he is forming his armies and minions for the attack to take
over of … ” Apollyon’s voice trailed off as he noticed some of the
willow trees swaying in an awkward motion toward them.
“How soon?” Sariel replied.
In a near silent whisper, Apollyon said, “In three days. Well,
probably more like two now. We did get a little lost on the way
back. I am going to go back in about a day and meet him at his
gates and lead him with all of his armies to the island and snatch
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who will be more than a handful themselves. But with Him gone
and the dragon free to do what damage he wills, this should be
an easy triumph.”
The words flowed so naturally from Apollyon’s mouth that
even he felt as if they had come from someone else, and Gamaliel
felt a sudden burst of sickness within his stomach.
“So that is our plan,” Sariel said with finality in his voice,
swirling the wine in his glass. “At last, we will have what is right-
fully ours: slaves; captives; and a fresh, new land to possess.”
Sariel tipped up his glass, and Apollyon met it with his own.
Their wrathful tones sounded so much like Satan’s that Gamaliel
felt as if his presence was right there in the room with them, and
he shuddered at the thought.
“Well, that’s half the plan,” Apollyon said with his eyes a
little widened.
“What else can we do?” Sariel said as Apollyon swallowed a
deep, painful sigh.
“Gabrielle’s trumpet.”
“What about it?” Sariel replied with confusion.
“He said we must have Gabrielle’s trumpet secured in our
hands if we are to win this war.”
The room instantly fell silent.
Then Sariel erupted with objections. “Well, that’s impossi-
ble!” he said, shaking his head in disbelief of this request. “Who
knows where her trumpet is? Probably in Mikael’s keeping. And
if it is there, there will be no way for us to retrieve it.” Sariel
slammed his drink on the jet black table. “Besides, can’t only
Gabrielle blow that trumpet? And she is on the verge of death or
something. She is barely a threat.” Sariel took a deep breath and
looked inside an empty wine flask.
Apollyon responded quickly to Sariel’s accusations. “We do
not know her condition for sure, and he says that the only rea-
son he lost the battle here a thousand years ago was because her
trumpet disassembled his army.”
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“And the fact that Mikael stabbed him in the thigh,” Gamaliel
said under his breath.
Sariel contemplated Apollyon’s words as he walked furiously
to the crystal cabinet that held an assortment of different wines
and spirits. “I suppose that is true. Once Gabrielle released the
power of that trumpet, it was almost a done deal,” Sariel said as
he pulled out a platinum bottle of wine.
“Exactly!” Apollyon said, but his words were faded out as
Gamaliel gasped so loudly that Sariel sent his cup flying.
“Really, Gamaliel! Was that necessary?” Apollyon yelled as
he wiped the wine from the front of his robe that was slung out
of Sariel’s cup.
“I—I—I just thought of something,” Gamaliel said.
Sariel laughed. “Was that the first time you’ve used your
brain, or is this the second?”
Gamaliel glowered at him but turned to Apollyon with
excitement. “Now hear me out. But I think I have an idea.”
“That would be a first for sure,” Apollyon commented as
Sariel returned with his glass and began to fill it with more
wine.
Gamaliel ignored this. His new idea was too amazing and
wonderful to let it fade away because of ignorant jests. “What if,
when hell’s army is attacking Zion, we leave the island and go
take over Eterni for ourselves and leave Mikael and”—he looked
around slowly and then whispered, “Satan to battle it out for
Zion?”
Apollyon stared at him with the smallest bit of pity he could
muster in his blackened heart. “All these years of planning and
discussing, and you just now want to pipe in with a suggestion
like that,” Apollyon said with a sinister laugh.
Gamaliel shifted in his seat uncomfortably.
“Since you don’t listen, I will advise you that this option
has already been discussed between the council in which we so
regrettably allowed you to be a part of.”
Gamaliel swallowed as Apollyon rose from his seat.
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“This was an option we thought long and hard about, but the
reality that we ourselves could not conquer the land of Eterni in
its entirety means that we would be in a constant battle with the
races of any area we tried to overtake. The fact that one of the
two sides would eventually win Zion means that, in return, they
would then know who had betrayed them as our underground
society would then be unmasked to all the angels of Zion not
yet on our side and to you-know-who as well. So it is not in our
best interest to run away, as you have so thoughtfully suggested,
because we could not win a battle in our small numbers against
Eterni. And we definitely would be slaughtered in a fight alone
against either armies. That is why we have chosen our side, and
hopefully we have chosen it wisely. For in the end, the only way
to conquer Eterni will be with the numbers we have gained by
aligning ourselves with the powers of evil in which we have just
accomplished. I would tell you now, Gamaliel, to make a decision
of whose side you are on. But you have already made that deci-
sion, and it’s time you accepted it.”
Gamaliel was frozen in fear in his seat. Apollyon’s face was
no less than an inch from his nose. He tried to swallow, but
his throat wouldn’t move; and he wanted to blink, but his eyes
wouldn’t budge. He was stone still, and sweat glistened upon his
forehead. Apollyon folded his wings to his back, which had spread
completely out during his rant against Gamaliel. Then, with a
face of smug anger, he sat down in his chair at the table. Both
Gamaliel and Sariel watched him in total amazement. His fury
had seemed to freeze everything in the room, including the trees
that were not swaying and the wind that was not circulating.
Then, in a last sentence of crucial importance, Apollyon
looked at the two of them and said, “If we want victory in this
upcoming war, we must have Gabrielle’s trumpet at any cost.”
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produce offspring for the angels, and their children became the
downfall of the Watchers.
The children were beautiful, glowing human angels; and the
Watchers called them Nephilim, for they were small but magnifi-
cent. Everything about the children spoke the word beautiful into
every heart that saw them. Though they were small at birth, they
grew miraculously fast and learned many more secrets from their
fathers in the realms of weaponry and warfare as more and more
children were born. Some of the Watchers had produced young
not only with the women of the Earth but with female beasts of
the field, the sea, and the air. Half breeds of angels and beasts
appeared everywhere in the world; bulls, horses, goats, rams, and
lions were just some of the animals the Watchers mated with,
but they were not like the Nephilim, and they did not cohabitate.
Soon, disturbing things began to happen in the areas where the
Watchers had settled. The most disturbing factors in the tales of
this time were the whispers of deaths surrounding the camps in
which the Watchers were inhabiting. Humans were disappear-
ing, and remains were being found; and the sound of murder was
not far from the Watchers’ homes.
Cries from the blood of those who had been murdered reached
into the heavens to the very throne room of the Almighty, and
the great archangels were summoned to His throne. Jehovah
asked them to go and report on what was happening in the Earth
and why there were so many unexplained deaths occurring. The
great archangels left the throne room and peered into the realm
of Earth, searching for answers to the cries of the dead. Then
they saw the Watchers and all they had done.
Mikael left Zion immediately and came to the Earth in search
of Azazyel to question him about what he and his Watchers were
doing. Mikael searched and searched, but Azazyel could not be
found for he had been forewarned by another that Mikael was
coming for him. On this pronouncement, Azazyel hid himself and
his family. He feared that Mikael would take away his wives and
destroy his children for their murderous nature. So, for months,
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Abel’s Jail
Mikael felt a chill come over him as he passed the Silivine Spring
of Shamain and headed toward the silver jubilee. He peered
around and saw the ruby mountains shining beautifully in the
background, the silver trees swaying to an unheard rhythm,
and the Silivine Spring twinkling with the appearance of some
apparently well-fed ducks waddling happily around its bank. The
thought of the chill quickly left his mind as he became more
and more accustomed to the inexplicable feelings occurring more
often than not throughout Zion.
Thunderous cries echoed all around him as he entered the
silver jubilee from patches of stormy clouds swirling around the
rooftop. White streaks of lightning zipped and zapped through
the walls beside him, and curiosity pricked his mind for a moment
at the uncommonness of this event.
Then the chariot whipped through the entrance as smooth
as a sharpened blade, and the cool wind of Zion melted over
Mikael’s face; and he swiftly forgot about the bizarre lightning
and the strange feelings in Shamain. He looked out across the
land as the chariot bore him into the sky and turned south. The
four brothers’ wings pushed through the air with a graceful
strength not known to many creatures as they made their way
to the next destination, Raquin. The thrones of Mikael’s chariot
flapped their little wings rapidly, trying to assist the four broth-
ers as much as physically possible and doing quite a good job, as
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have finally been healed from the world of men in the new world of
Eterni.” He felt a sudden warmth infuse his soul from this very
comforting thought, knowing the war between good and evil had
ceased. Never again would he have to battle with the adversary,
that ancient serpent named Lucifer.
He looked on toward the seventh heaven of Araboth swirling
in its beautiful alabaster colors of peach and white. He breathed
in a breath of relaxation at the sight of the sapphire throne room
at the top of the mountainous heaven. Even though Jehovah was
not present there, the beauty of the sapphire tip gloriously shin-
ing like a sharpened blue spear was reassuring enough that all
was well in the cosmos. Mikael looked on from the heaven to
the luminaries making their way back toward the heavens, which
meant it was still early in a brand-new day.
“A little faster,” he commanded, and the wings of his horses
and thrones pushed through the air with a sudden rapid pace.
“Let’s go through the fifth hall, fellas,” Mikael suggested, and the
chariot tilted a bit toward the right. The golden clouds of the hall
separated generously to allow the chariot passage into its walls
and closed once more as they entered. Mikael halted his chariot
momentarily as his four horses took their drinks out of the flow-
ing river of Yessedekeus passing by in the hall. This hall was
seldom visited by angels because the entire fifth level of Mathey
was used as Abel’s jail, and they had no need of that place at all.
Mathey was Uriel’s heaven; and within its walls laid the Erelim,
the angels of white fire, and the armories of the kingdom, which
had not been used in a thousand years.
The four brothers guided Mikael’s chariot along the hall to
the southern fire gate and the many eyes of the thrones wandered
across the ceiling of emerald clouds, staring deep into the blue
galaxies held within them. Mikael looked down the passage to
the fire gate as it blazed in blue and orange flames. It had been
close to seven thousand years since he had spoken to Azazyel or
any of the Watchers, and he sighed at the thought of having to
lay eyes upon their torment.
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evil and possessed men rather than lashing out against Jehovah
as the fallen angels did.
Fallen angels, though crafty themselves, did not possess the
power for true spiritual takeover of the human spirit. A demon,
on the other hand, due to its human and angelic descent, was
endowed with the ability to take over a spirit, possess them,
and give them powers beyond true human ability. Humans who
allowed these demons into their spirits and minds believed that
they had control and were in control of their own destiny. Sadly,
many fell to the powers of these demons as they fed upon their
souls from inside their spirits.
When the Watchers were called forth to answer for their
crimes against Jehovah, one of their punishments was the
destruction of their lineage. At this time, in the years of Noah, or
Deucalion in the angelic translation, not only were the Nephilim
full of evil, but the whole world had become evil as well, flee-
ing from their created purpose to worship Jehovah in all that
they did. None except Deucalion worshiped the one true God,
Jehovah; and the world of men had fallen into Lucifer’s grasp. So
Jehovah decided to destroy the world with a flood of the oceans
and the destruction of the firmament, flooding the world and
killing all beasts, men, and the physical lives of the Nephilim.
The only survivors of this flood were two of every kind of beast,
Deucalion and his family, and the Grigori
Most of the Grigori, the other offspring of the Watchers,
did have a choice at birth between good and evil, for most beasts
did not have a sinful nature as men did; and during that time
period, they chose the path of righteousness. But for many, their
fall was not far behind. Now the Nephilim, unlike beast or men,
had angelic traits within their spirit and were not locked within
Abraham’s bosom, for they possessed powers too great for that
plain on the spiritual realm. Their spirits roamed about the Earth,
and they took the transformations of what is known as the first
demons.
Once the flood had destroyed all the Nephilim, Jehovah,
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The Black Coliseum
His black eyes shifted amongst the fire and shadows as the gath-
ering of all of his minions took place. In the center of the black
coliseum, he stood, more magnificent than they had ever remem-
bered him, in his stunning, malevolent glory. One by one, they
took their seats upon the tarred walls of the massive structure laid
deep within the heart of hell that was known as Satan’s court.
The kings of hell lined the lower circles of the coliseum with
their flaming torches lit beside them. Eight kings sat with hid-
eous crowns adorned above their heads in a display of putrid
colors the like of blood and mud. Above the lowest circle, behind
the kings, were the mighty princes of hell, who sat royally dis-
gusted by their kings before them. The princes were smaller in
stature than their mighty kings, but they were all the more sinis-
ter in their disposition and mystique. Many times, they had plot-
ted against their kings with a desire to kill them and take over
their crowns; but they were always unsuccessful in their attempts
at assassinations. The eight kings were too wise and too ancient
to be spoiled by the bloodthirsty princes, and they sat uncon-
cernedly with their heads held high.
The next circles behind the princes were full of the presidents,
earls, marquis, and dukes of hell, who sat in the darkest shadows
of the coliseum. They were a ragged assortment of fallen angels
with scars from ages past and new tortuous markings across their
bodies from the last thousand years. In their hearts, they desired
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murder at all times; and they never rested, save the night of a full
moon. The remaining massive bowl of evil was occupied by the
seventy-two demons who had once been enslaved by Solomon,
the high demons (former Nephilim), the archons, the demons of
Mastemoth, the daimones, the black angels, fallen angels, and
many familiars. In the shadows of the center of the coliseum sat
two figures amongst three thrones—one on the left and one on
the right—and they sat in silence, watching and waiting.
Silently, more and more figures and beings gathered from
separate entrances across the darkness of the halls leading out
into hell. None were speaking as the disfigurements and injuries
of a thousand years of torture ached upon their bodies. Many
of these demons were scarred beyond recognition or repair; and
the hopes of vengeance and massacre were discouraged in their
minds, as most of their limbs no longer were visible or even
worked properly. But some of the demons and fallen angels
brewed with hatred in their hearts toward the ancient serpent
and lusted for his execution. Others that sat within the dome
feared the next torture they believed was inevitable to come, and
they were repulsed by the very presence of Satan’s being before
them. The emotional battle that was forming within the heart of
the coliseum was like a heavy fog seeping in the pores of every
evil creature present.
Satan stood silent, watching the eyes of every fallen angel,
demon, and creature within his realm. He read the thoughts
of each one, knowing the secret threats of their hearts, know-
ing the disbelief that he had been released from his cell, and
knowing more than anything their disappointment at his loss of
Armageddon. The fact that the centuries of lies and preparations
to destroy the Almighty and His kingdom had failed and cost
them a thousand years of torture had obviously caused an intense
amount of animosity amongst his followers, and they were ripe
with vengeance; but Satan did not waiver. He continued to stare
at them all in deep concentration as more and more gathered in
their old places of preference as if an ancient meeting of earthly
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times had been arranged. The last to be seated was Baal, the first
fallen angel after Satan to be cast out of Zion; and he sat directly
before the old serpent as silence swirled within the air.
One by one, more torched lights of black flame shot through
the coliseum, filling the darkness with an eerie, scarlet light
as cries of pain shot through the crowd of demons. The hor-
rible scars, the bleeding gashes, the missing body parts, and the
scalded faces were illuminated for all to see. Balberith, a grand
pontiff of hell, stood to his feet and spoke with a hoarse and
threatening voice.
“Here we sit before you, our great and powerful Satan,
burned and tortured from your misguidance and pride. And now
our affliction has come to a pause. For what? You stand before
us, unscathed and flawless, as if nothing has befallen you in this
eternal persecution that we have endured for so long, and what
will you ask of us now? We sit here before you, an amusement
to your eyes but a waste of spirit and flesh. So why have you
called us here at this time? To judge us yourself or hand us over
to Him?”
An eruption of voices and screams plummeted through the
room like a pack of wild creatures that had been unleashed upon
their prey, and the clamor was so loud that even the damned
shuddered in their shackles within hell’s gates.
Satan stared at Balberith with the jet black eyes of malice and
hate that only a person marked for death would ever see. This
sent the grand pontiff falling back into his seat with a smash as
silence swept through the crowd.
“In all of your reasoning and bitterness, Balberith, I can see
where such lies may have entered your mind, and all of you as
well,” Satan began to say as he pointed one finger at the stadium,
sending fear over everyone, “all of you who were too weak to
speak your mind, all of you who share the same theories and
questions as poor Balberith here.” Satan pointed his long, black
fingernail at Balberith and he burst into flames.
The screams were terrifying, and the other dukes sitting
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tinue to defy what was written in the dark, and who here wishes
to test my powers? Come forth now, all of you consumed with
retribution toward me, and release the hate within your hearts.
For I will strike each of you to the ground and show you the fire
that dwells within my veins, and then you will know the wrath of
your god.” Satan burst into a mighty flame at that moment blaz-
ing red with fury and malice.
“I will take each of your rotting corpses as they lay smitten
by my hand, and I shall form a new army from the ash of your
bones, and they will rise to take your place in my new regime,
and together we will destroy the heavens with my valor and my
hands. Let now the words stream forth against me, and I will
answer them with a flaming fist and a heart of wrath that no
creature in hell or Zion has ever known. Now you will remember
that I am the great Morning Star of the ancient days, who all
have feared and suffered by, and I will burn the fields of glory
and destroy the nations of righteousness, for I have spoken to the
future, and my prophecies will be fulfilled.”
Repulsive screams filled the arena in a united assembly of
believers coerced by the persuasive speech from the prince of
darkness. Satan raised his flaming body from the ground with his
enormous wings of black and crimson feathers hovering in the
center of the black coliseum, overlooking his servants with rage.
Orange and black flames shot through his spirit into the crowd
like an ocean of fire vibrating with intense pressure.
The screams were horrific as those who had been gathered
together burned with a new dark magic never cast before upon
their bodies. The face of Satan was like a dragon in full flight,
burning every inch of the coliseum with wrath and hatred. The
creatures of darkness could not move from their stance as the
blanket of fire scorched over their bodies, melting away their
afflictions, injuries, and ailments of the centuries.
Then Satan, in a mighty stretch of his wings, ceased the fire
from within his bones; and the sea of flames ended their current
across the bowl. The coliseum shimmered as the tarred, stained
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only race that stayed true and pure was given nothing more than an
old, dirty kingdom to wander around in themselves, oblivious to the
living world. Anger boiled in his skin, and his heart hurt with an
unfamiliar pain. All other races fell short of His great intentions, yet
He demanded constant perfection out of our race and refused grace to
our kind even if we made a mistake—all because His grace had been
emptied upon those lesser races, those humans, leaving nothing for us
but a punishment of death. Then, as if a candle had been blown out
by the wind, what goodness was left in Gamaliel’s heart faded,
and darkness replaced it there.
I have no intentions of continuing to be a slave to His will like
I have always been, living in fear of a mistake and sharing a world
with those of lesser abilities. And then, deep down within his heart,
he made his final decision of where his loyalty lay. I will no lon-
ger stand by and allow these other races equality with angels. I will
take matters into my own hands and become much more than I have
ever believed possible. The craving for power, status, and dominion
fell over him like a fleece; and a smile so evil grew over his face
that his cheeks hurt from the awkward position they were in. He
laughed inside with reassurance of his position in this upcom-
ing war, and he knew now that he would do whatever it took to
ensure that his deepest desires were fulfilled. Soon, I will enjoy the
fruits of my labor with a crown on my head in the new regime des-
tined to take over the land of Zion and then the lands of Eterni.
“I will need you to position yourself here, Gamaliel,” Apollyon
said for the second time as Gamaliel drifted back to the conver-
sation at hand.
He looked over at Apollyon, who had a map of the seven
heavens laid out before him. “I know. We have been through this
a thousand times. I will be there!”
“Good,” Apollyon said, shocked but pleased with Gamaliel’s
enthusiastic reaction. His full-proof plan was coming together
easier than he had thought as he leaned back in his onyx chair
and glanced at the ceiling. It was only then that he noticed the
branches of the apple and willow trees that had been tied to the
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roof along the walls. “What is this all about?” Apollyon asked in
curiosity.
“What? Oh, that,” Gamaliel said with a little blush rising on
his cheeks. “Well, the trees were kind of attacking us as we were
trying to search Gabrielle’s chamber, so we had to do something,
didn’t we?”
Apollyon laughed a hearty laugh, and Gamaliel sunk in his
chair.
“You wouldn’t think it was funny if you had of been here. I
think as the inestra wears off, the environment becomes more
aware of us.” Gamaliel put a finger to his chin at this thought and
then finished. “Anyways, I swore if one more apple hit me in the
head I would rip that tree out of this room and burn it.”
Just then, the trees in every direction moved violently within
the chamber; but because of the ties around their branches, they
did very little damage. Apollyon looked around and smiled with
pride that his incompetent Gamaliel had finally done something
smart.
“Well, now that you have taken care of the tree problem all
that is left is to actually find Gabrielle’s trumpet and seize it for
ourselves, guaranteeing our victory.”
Gamaliel nodded his head eagerly at Apollyon’s words; but
still, doubts plagued his mind. Apollyon grinned at the sudden
change that had come over Gamaliel so unexpectedly. It must be
from my well-organized plan of success no doubt, Apollyon said to
himself.
“We shall sit in the throne room tomorrow, my brother, and
begin our plans of war upon Eterni, where we shall rule as kings
over all,” Apollyon said with delight.
Gamaliel smiled a wide smile, but then it quickly faded. “Yes,
but we still have no idea where it is, Apollyon. Me and Sariel have
searched all the areas of the heavens that Mikael could have pos-
sibly placed it in, and it is nowhere to be found, so where—?”
Gamaliel was interrupted as Gabrielle’s opal doors opened
unexpectedly. He lost his balance quickly on the chair and col-
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lapsed to the floor with a crash. Sariel stood there, pale as ivory
and trembling.
“What is it, Sariel?” Apollyon asked as Gamaliel lifted him-
self up off the floor.
Sariel didn’t say anything but continued to stare at Apollyon
as if he were in shock. Gamaliel glanced over at Apollyon, who
looked just as puzzled as he did.
“Sariel, sit down, and drink some of this,” Apollyon said as
he passed him a full glass of plenair wine.
Sariel sat down and drank the entire glass.
“Better?” Gamaliel asked, now getting worried. “It must be
about Gabrielle’s trumpet, isn’t it?”
Sariel shook his head no, and Gamaliel’s smile faltered.
“Well, what is it, Sariel? Quit holding us in suspense!”
Apollyon demanded.
What seemed like words tried to come out of Sariel’s mouth,
but they could not understand him. “Speak clearer!” Apollyon
demanded, losing his patience quickly.
“M—M—Mikael.” The word stuttered from the angel’s lips
in a pathetic whimper.
“What about Mikael?” Apollyon said as he refilled the glass
for Sariel.
“He wants to see you, Apollyon. Immediately,” Sariel said as
he downed the next glass of wine easily.
Gamaliel looked quickly at Apollyon, who was pour-
ing another glass of wine already. “Do you know why?” asked
Gamaliel.
“No, I don’t”—he shivered as if he had a feverish cold—“but
he seemed angry, so you had better head there quickly and watch
everything you say and think and your body language and—”
“I will be fine.” Apollyon said as he took a big drink of the
plenair right from the bottle and sat it on the table. “The two of
you stay here until I return, and tell no one about what is going
on or you will cause a panic,” Apollyon demanded as the others
nodded their heads in agreement.
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Mikael reached across the table and took back his flask, pour-
ing each of them some more wine. “Fascinating things they can
do with stars now,” Mikael said as he gave Apollyon a smile.
Apollyon cringed a little inside, wishing he could do a better
job of persuading him; but at that moment, Mikael began talking
about the times that Jehovah had taken him to the outer reaches
of the universe and taught him how to throw stars. Seeing his
window of opportunity opening before his eyes, he took his best
chance at examining the chamber from his seat at the table and
began looking in every direction for Gabrielle’s trumpet. Apollyon
could clearly see on a table made of jade in the back, a set of scales
called justice that Mikael had held for the Creator since the begin-
ning of mankind. On the wall to the left were banners with lists
of titles upon them, waving in a constant breeze. The largest was
gold with silver trim that said “Chief of the Order of Virtues.”
Underneath was a silver banner with white gold trim that said
“Chief of Archangels.” Then a multicolored banner followed
underneath that, stating “Prince of the Presence.” The last four
banners said “Angel of Repentance,” “Righteousness,” “Mercy,”
and “Sanctification.” Seven banners of the seven titles of Mikael
waved their insignias proudly before him unceasingly.
As Apollyon continued to look, the room seemed to grow
deeper and deeper, full of memorabilia from tasks and orders
completed throughout history; and it was very difficult to find
what he was looking for through all the items. If only the all-see-
ing eye worked in Zion, he might have easily been able to find the
trumpet; but since it was made by Baal, the oldest fallen angel of
Satan, it did not stretch its power into heavenly halls. Apollyon’s
eyes continued the best search they could perform given the cir-
cumstances; and they fell upon a crescent purple moon levitat-
ing in the distance, which apparently had the eighty-fifth psalm
written across it. Beside that, an old, jagged dagger hung bolted
to a pearl plaque, which said “The Sacrificial Knife of Isaac.”
Apollyon’s eyes searched harder and harder for the key he needed
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the burial ointments and oils used for Adam, Abel, and Abraham,
and knocked over the magical stone of the Zohar.
“That’s it!” Gamaliel said as Sariel looked at him with
curiosity.
“What’s it?” Apollyon shouted angrily, sounding incredibly
similar to Satan.
“Araboth, the seventh heaven, the throne room. She must
be there,” Gamaliel shouted as Sariel looked at him doubtfully.
“Where else could she be? No one has seen her. No one knows
where she is. For seven years! How could they have hid her for
seven years, Sariel?” he said confidently as Apollyon gave the
area one final glance and began walking slowly back toward the
front.
“No one is allowed in the throne room while the Creator is
gone, Gamaliel. Not even Mikael.” Apollyon looked as if he was
going to be sick. “Do not speak that name again. I cannot bear to
hear it.” “Okay. Maybe not the throne room, but somewhere else,
somewhere like—.”
Gamaliel was interrupted as Sariel began defusing Gamaliel’s
ideas immediately.
“It’s impossible. There is nowhere else in Araboth. There’s
the throne room, JA’EL, the ark of the covenant the—the—”
Sariel stuttered off as an idea formed in his mind.
“The Guph!” Gamaliel said excitedly. “That’s the only other
thing that makes any sense, and we have all forgotten about it.”
“You think this entire time she has just been in the Guph?”
Apollyon asked with unbelief.
“It can’t be there. But if it is, it would have been just as easy
to get it from Mikael’s chambers as opposed to the Guph,” Sariel
said, now even more discouraged about their entire mission.
A pause went on for many moments at this juncture, and
they all stared with vague expressions written across their faces.
“I thought the Mahanel were the only ones with keys to the
Guph, and no one else was allowed in there at any time,” Sariel
said with discouragement.
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no matter what Satan says. But we will make sure that trumpet
does not sound if Gabrielle does decide to show her face.”
“What do you mean?” Gamaliel asked, feeling a very uneasy
presence sweeping over him with every word coming from
Apollyon’s mouth.
Apollyon unfolded the map of the kingdom onto the table.
“Sariel, you will have to be here,” he said as he pointed at Shamain.
“Make sure the infantry is getting through rapidly into Raquin,
as planned.” He pointed at the second heaven on the map. “If
Raphael breaks through to Shamain, there will be plenty he has
to deal with as hell’s armies begin to penetrate the halls.”
Sariel nodded his head in compliance with his task.
Apollyon pointed at Gamaliel, who looked up at him with
a very worried expression on his face. “Gamaliel, the plans
changed,” Apollyon said as Gamaliel swallowed hard.
“I was afraid of that,” he said in a weary voice.
“If the trumpet is still not secured by us tomorrow, the best
location that Gabrielle could possibly be in is the Guph, and you
will need to make your way up there before the battle begins so
that when it does, you can wait to see if she comes out with it,”
Apollyon said as Gamaliel’s face turned pale. “Listen to me. You
are a strong, witty, and clever angel. You can do this,” Apollyon
encouraged angrily as Gamaliel nodded his head in affirmation.
“What do I do if she comes out with the trumpet?” Gamaliel
questioned uncertainly.
Apollyon stood up and unfastened his belt. Gamaliel and
Sariel’s eyes widened as Apollyon placed his own sword upon the
table. The sheath was of gold, and the handle was garnet; but at
the end of the handle was a black jewel that glistened with fire
in its heart.
“You lost yours, so you will use mine. And you must take the
trumpet from Gabrielle by any means necessary. Is that clear?”
Apollyon asked with more malice than Gamaliel had ever seen.
“Yes. I will not fail,” Gamaliel answered as he pulled the
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sword toward him on the table. “But if I have this, what will you
use when it comes time for battle?”
Apollyon looked at Gamaliel and smiled. “I’m sure that Satan
will reward me well with one of the best weapons he has when I
tell him that we have retrieved Gabrielle’s trumpet.” With those
words Apollyon stared at both of the angels before him. Gamaliel
looked uneasy while Sariel looked determined.
“I have faith in both of you,” Apollyon said as he placed a hand
on Gamaliel’s shoulder and another on Sariel’s. His eyes seemed
to burn with a black flame as he said, “Together, my brothers, we
shall soon snatch this kingdom of Zion from Mikael’s hands, and
then we shall make war upon the races of Eterni.”
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of the Abyss
Apollyon flapped his fiery red wings high into the pearl sky as the
white ocean below sprinkled crests of rainbow sparkles all across
a mighty ivory sea. He watched the waves with their entranc-
ing motion swaying up and down and side to side, giving him
the unfamiliar feeling of nausea as if he was about to faint. His
wings shook violently from anxiety, giving him the appearance of
a drunken bird staggering through the sky. This uncontrollable
shaking came from a considerable amount of fear fueled by panic
as he thought about every inch of sky bringing him closer and
closer to the shores of Sardis.
At one point in time, not so long ago, those shores had meant
that all of his dreams would come true; but now they meant
something totally different as his consciousness awoke from its
comatose state. Those shores meant that he would once again be
face-to-face with the first being of all evil, who was the serpent,
the dragon, the little horn: Satan.
Three days ago, I felt so confident, he thought to himself. Even
two days ago, I was confident in my goals, in my reasons, in my justi-
fications. But now … questions, doubts, and fears were rolling in
his mind like the ocean waves below him. As he flew all alone,
toward a destiny of darkness, a very difficult realization kept
coming to his mind, which he feared more than anything. I must
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lie to the father of lies and tell him I have captured Gabrielle’s trumpet
when I have not. He will know the truth, as he can see through every
lie, I’m sure. I will be tortured and probably killed for my stupidity,
arrogance, incompetence, and insubordination. What am I going to
do?
His heart sunk a little at this thought, and he fell a few dozen
feet in the air until his wings regained their strength and glided
him upward again. How could I be so brash? How could I be such a
fool? A few tears formulated upon Apollyon’s face, and he did not
hold them back, seeing as no one was around. All of his hopes
and dreams of ruling as a king over the races of the world seemed
unreachable now as his death seemed just hours away.
He had known all along, when he had first fathomed a rebel-
lion against Mikael, that Satan would be the only answer to con-
quering the heavens. He also knew that this solution would cre-
ate chaos the likes of which had not been seen in a millennium.
That chaos had somehow become insignificant compared to the
pointless lives they were living under Mikael’s rule in the absence
of Jehovah. Many of the angels had lost purpose in their lives and
felt idle to the point of insanity. That insanity had driven them
to the agreement to take destiny into their own hands and release
the ancient serpent back into the world.
For some reason, he felt as if it had always been in his future
to join the fallen, as he had agreed with so many of their rally-
ing opinions and beliefs before. The matter of his race being the
first and chosen race; the fact that angels should rightfully have
power and control over the lesser races, was another; and the
undeniable fact that he and the others had served in the high
courts of Jehovah for millennia’s with a perfect record required
of no other race was at the least justifiable enough to give them
authority over some if not all races. But, alas, it was not. The
Almighty had decided to create another world for His precious
other races, leaving the angels with the same mundane Zion they
had always had.
These were his reasons for the current choices he had made
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prepared now than ever to take over the world. He looked ahead of
him and then whispered to himself, “Besides. I’m almost there.
It’s almost done.”
“There’s still time, Apollyon,” the voice said softly again.
But Apollyon ignored it purposefully this time, and he felt
the voice fade away as if it had left his spirit.
Think of something else, Apollyon. Think of something else, he
told himself as he attempted to gain control of his shaky left
wing.
Suddenly, the breeze picked up abruptly; and a huge gust
pushed hard against his back, knocking him clumsily off balance.
He barreled his head low as he stiffened his wings, diving down
a few hundred feet, freeing himself of the fierce winds. He pulled
up just feet before an intense set of crashing waves and noticed
something abnormal circulating within the waters. The ocean
waves had formulated into an icy claw that was attempting to
pull him into their depths. He flew upward quickly in an instant
reaction as the winds of the air did not seem nearly as bad as the
drowning waves below.
As he wiped the sweat from his brow, he thought of how
difficult the flight south had become. He had never experienced
winds with this type of force in Eterni before. They were as
strong as a hurricane of Earthly times; and the waters, with their
eerie formations, reminded him instantly of his experience on the
southern shores. Recollections of the violent sands and drowning
waters of Sardis’s beach played in his mind as he wondered how
much more of the environment could have possibly changed in
just these few days.
He continued on his path south, occupying his mind with
what he was best at: war. He went over the list of hidden soldiers
located in their appropriate places, awaiting the upcoming battle.
He had succeeded in assembling more troops than he could have
ever imagined possible along the separate levels and halls of the
heavens, and he was not quite sure how. Time and time again,
he had warned those amongst the scroll not to continue their
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realm before, and the clash between the ivory waters and the
pearl sky made the object drastically obvious. He stared at the
black mass, assuming that it was not moving in his direction or
at least not quick enough to be a problem. What could that be? he
asked himself in confusion.
He knew that the southern beach of Sardis was not far away
now, and his eyes strained to see farther than they had ever tried
before. Was the image some sort of creature, he asked himself. It’s
possible. Many races of dragons plagued the shores of Smyrna
and Laodicea, but no dragon could be as dark as this inky black
figure was. Neither could one be as large as this mass seemed
to be. Suddenly, the winds picked up once more; and his wings
struggled intensely to keep him out of the waters below as the
wind pushed fiercely upon his back.
He fought hard to keep his eyes on the mass while fighting
the winds as his mind continued to consider the possibilities of
the black object. Is it some sort of meteor or asteroid fallen from the
universe? Can it be that something escaped from the abyss, or could it
be … No, no, no. He wasn’t going to think that way. He couldn’t.
He wouldn’t. It was impossible, improbable. It must be some-
thing else, something one of the races made along the shores like
a boat or an ark even. He tried again with all his might to see the
black mass clearly, but it was still too hazy for reasons he could
not comprehend. Then he entered a particularly rough patch of
wind, feeling as if his wings could easily be compared to a fly
fighting a spider’s web. This patch of air was so resistant that he
had to close his eyes, duck his head, and pull with his arms as his
wings struggled with every beat to move through this thick air.
Finally, with a last burst of energy, he shot through the wind
and out into the free air. His entire body ached as if he had just
been in a battle for days. It was then that he realized he had come
much closer to the object than he had thought and surely he
would be able to see what this mass was now. The object looked
to be the size of a mountain or a volcano, and it seemed to be
moving in some sort of bizarre formation.
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shook all over, trying to get the feelings and thoughts of anything
true and pure out of his mind.
Then a long, crooked smile filled his face as excitement over-
whelmed his spirit at the thought of all his wishes coming true.
The reality that their soon coming battles and wars could be suc-
cessful was now a massive reality, and he nearly shouted for joy
as he burst through the air. I am going to rule my own land and
have slaves to do my bidding and be a king over hundreds maybe even
thousands. They will all call me King Apollyon, and I will have them
build statues of me all over the land, and they will all bow before me
and worship the great Apollyon. He breathed in a breath of air that
felt like his intentions springing to life within his wings; and
with a completely renewed confidence in his mission, he soared
through the air toward the dark kingdom of the abyss.
It was not long before he was able to make out many defined
shapes of the kingdom that stretched far across the ivory sea and
miles down the coast of Eterni. The enormous peaks of darkness
shone like black stars upon rigid staffs as countless towers and
walls surrounded them. Then, without warning, the top layers
of the massive architecture began to crumble into many pieces.
Apollyon gasped at the sight of the kingdom crumbling, and his
heart sank in fear and disappointment. Then the massive black
balls that were falling from the towers melted into the surround-
ing dark walls, creating a blob of blackness like swirling magma.
The kingdom began to move again, and new towers formed out
of the black mass with different peaks larger and sharper than
before. Triangular pyramids of soot and tar began to form; and
within seconds, the entire dark kingdom had rebuilt itself to
display a maliciously evil architecture again. But it didn’t stop.
Minutes after the building seemed complete, it crumbled again
and again, always forming and reforming itself like a chameleon
uncomfortable with its present surroundings.
Apollyon’s jaw hung in the air as he watched this spectacle
unfold. The kingdom shifted and conformed into all types of
shapes and sizes. The large, black towers would crumble into
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a weapon from the armory; but as the black angels rushed upon
him, he wished he had figured out a way. Now he was just a
few flaps from the kingdom of the abyss, defenseless against the
powers of hell, with two scouts on their way who did not look
particularly happy and were most likely going to kill him.
“You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, Apollyon?” a famil-
iar voice sounded in the sky.
Apollyon stretched out his wings mightily in the air. “I have
a meeting with your, I mean, our lord today in reference to the
urgent plans that must be attended to,” Apollyon said with an
enormous amount of courage rushing through his bones. He
didn’t blink as he stared at the dark faces of the two black angels
he knew oh too well.
“Yes. A meeting that you are late for,” the other angel hissed.
“And what type of business are you speaking of?”
“I believe that is a discussion that I shall speak of with Satan
alone,” Apollyon answered proudly as two swords found their
way to his neck simultaneously.
“You will refer to him as Morning Star in a manner deserving
of his grand prestige,” Monker replied with spite in his eyes.
Both of the angels pressed their golden swords tightly along
Apollyon’s throat, and Apollyon stared at their blue eyes as if
they were a pair of flaming sapphires.
“Yes, I agree, and I apologize for my lack of respect toward
our great lord,” he said, barely breathing. “Will you now take me
to the Morning Star so we can discuss what plans may be needed
for the future of our cause?”
He looked at the two angels before him, and their faces of
rage were the same. He had hoped that all he had done in his
betrayal would earn him some respect amongst the fallen, but
this first impression he was receiving made it very unlikely.
Monker lowered his sword, prompting Nakir to do the same.
“We will take you to him as we have been instructed,” Monker
said as Apollyon let out a sigh of brief relief.
Then Nakir, noticing Apollyons sudden relaxation, voiced
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his rage against their new ally. “But do not expect our pardon
for the millennia’s of servitude you have done in His court only
now to turn your back on Him and join our cause. We have been
tortured and mutilated for a thousand years, suffering afflictions
you could never dream of. We will not be replaced by a traitorous
angel such as yourself so easily,” Nakir bellowed as he lowered his
sword viciously.
Apollyon nodded his head thankfully. “Duly noted, Nakir.
Now, can we be on the way? I am sure our presence has not gone
unnoticed. And if it has, we are only too lucky. Many races claim
these coasts as their home, and our benefit of surprise may be
taken away by our rash conversation here in the sky for all to
see!” Apollyon didn’t know where the confidence and cockiness
in his voice was coming from; but he enjoyed every second of it,
knowing now that the twins had been sent to take him to Satan
and would not harm him for fear that they would be dealt with
most mercilessly, he assumed. The black angels could sense every
bit of Apollyon’s arrogance, and they loathed and hated him for
his purpose in this new war.
With no more argument coming from either party, they
resumed their flight and soared toward the kingdom. As they
got closer, Apollyon began to understand the grayness in the air,
which was created by patches of fog and smoke intertwined in
cloudy formations coming from different areas of the changing
towers. They passed quickly under the gray skies as the fortress
and its incomprehensible metamorphosis became even more
fascinating. He watched in bewilderment as the columns of the
kingdom conformed to walls and towers, causing an uncanny
state of confusion in his mind. Maybe that’s its purpose, Apollyon
thought to himself as he took his first steps onto the dark soil.
Instantly, he was reminded of the tar in the long hall that he and
Gamaliel had traveled on just days previously. The tar now clung
to the soles of his feet, tearing and ripping at his flesh; and he
pulled his feet from their clutches, hovering above the ground,
away from the malicious soot. He looked up from the hostile
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there was no reason to revisit his tortured cell or for anyone else
to venture there as well.
“Welcome to hell!” Nakir said as he shoved Apollyon in the
back. Apollyon turned to his left, where a ferocious door with a
massive set of jagged teeth awaited his fearful entrance. As he
approached the passageway, every spike protruding from each
door began stretching and bending in his direction, longing for
the opportunity to splinter his body and relish in his blue blood.
Apollyon lifted up his wings and flew swiftly through the gates
as he attempted to maneuver his way around the gigantic teeth.
His attempt failed miserably as one of the spikes struck him hard
across the forearm. Blue blood began to stream immediately from
his wrist as he wrapped the sleeve of his robe hurriedly around it.
The door seemed to be drinking the blood off of the spike, and
the spikes rested with ease at the taste of the angelic blood.
As he held onto his arm firmly, he reminisced of the time
Immanuel had taken the keys of the abyss from Satan upon com-
pletion of his horrific crucifixion on Earth, and Apollyon was
suddenly recalling the words of those days as he realized how
right Immanuel was when He said, “Even the very walls of the
abyss seem to release the influence of evil upon its visitors like
a fiery dragon breathing in and out, waiting for you to enter its
belly.” Apollyon knew now what he had meant by that statement
as he watched the walls inhale and exhale like the vein of some
monstrous creature’s lung.
He took his focus off of the walls and turned his attention
back to the twin guides, who were making a quick turn into a
bypassing tunnel where the walls were not moving as these walls
were. The walls in this hall were made of a black glass like finely
polished onyx; and in this glass, Apollyon saw a gruesomely evil
reflection of himself. The reflection was trying with all of its
might to break through the wall and come after Apollyon, and
he was absolutely repulsed by his dreadful appearance. Then, in
a sudden flood of terror, the reflection was not alone as it began
to tremble with panic. Apollyon watched his fearful reflection as
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until you have foreseen it, for I grow weary of your empty advice,”
Satan snapped with apparent frustration that had been building
up to this explosion.
Satan turned his gaze back to Apollyon, who was having a
difficult time looking him in the face. “Now I have organized
my generals to take their legions in certain directions across the
isle, as I presume not much has changed in the layout of Zion
from our discussions before,” Satan said without really glancing
at Apollyon, who was walking carefully behind him, nodding his
head in concurrence.
They passed out of another sulfuric hall and entered a mas-
sive cavern that was full of a black lake that could have just as
well been called an ocean. Running up its walls were perches and
nests scattered for thousands of feet above, and a wild angel with
brutish features popped out of the shadows from a nearby boat.
“My lord, I did not expect you so soon,” a deep voice
stuttered.
“Rahab, are all these beasts ready?” Satan questioned with
a doubtful expression on his face as the others looked up at the
resting beasts above.
“Leviathan and Behemoth are both prepared, my lord. But
the goshawks and the locusts are so many they are just now awak-
ing from their sleep,” Rahab said with a nervous grimace.
“Just now waking?” Satan replied with black fire in his eyes.
Then a terrible scream sounded from the mouth of Satan
like a hideous wake-up call by a dragon, and the nests of the
cavern were shook from their perches. The walls seemed to be
twisting and turning all around the cliffs; and as Satan closed his
mouth, the terrifying sound continued to ripple throughout the
cavern. The scream echoed louder and louder until every creature
was disturbed and many of them fell hundreds of feet from their
perch before waking and taking flight. What looked like a mil-
lion frantic beasts were flying into the air in a sudden panic from
the cry. Satan reached up his hand, and the chaotic staggering
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of the beasts ceased as they all fell into an ordered fashion along
the walls.
The black lake suddenly erupted at that moment as two mas-
sive beasts floating upon the water made their presence known.
Leviathan, the first beast, rose as tall as half the cavern and as
blue as the ocean of old, terrible and ferocious. His fins were
like a mighty whale and his horns like a bull, and scales of a
dragon covered his entire body. In Leviathan’s eyes were terror
and wickedness as his mouth formed a small cave that could eas-
ily swallow whole boats, crafts, or beasts. The second beast was
Behemoth, and he was the color of an elephant, gray and myste-
rious, with the body of a crocodile that was long and wretched.
His mouth was that of a hippo—as wide as it was long and as
powerful as a mountain.
Apollyon had only seen these beasts once before during the
destruction of a race of creatures the humans had called dino-
saurs. Behemoth and Leviathan had been created by Rahab dur-
ing that age; and in a fit of madness, they had destroyed nearly
everything on the land and in the sea, causing the entire world to
enter into what later became known as an ice age. Apollyon could
not believe that Satan had considered releasing these monsters
into this new world since he desired to reign over it so much. He
thought drastically of throwing out his judgments against this;
but he knew that he would be killed before he could speak, so
he bit his tongue with the words he would like to say. The beasts
were surprisingly calm and still in the water as they stared at
Satan before them with honor and prestige in their eyes.
Satan nodded his head at the beast and turned around slowly
to Rahab. “Where is Kunopegos?”
“My Lord,” Rahab said with a bow, “you know I cannot keep
all three of these beasts together, for they will kill Kunopegos if
they see her.”
“I understand that, Rahab. Where is she being kept?” Satan
said with rage flushing through his veins.
“Of course, my lord. I apologize. She is in the northern sec-
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came that Apollyon had been avoiding and had been hoping
would never come.
“And Gabrielle’s trumpet has been safely secured?” Satan
asked as Baal held a pen to his book, watching Apollyon’s eyes.
Apollyon looked at Satan with as much confidence and bold-
ness he could collect. “Yes. We have obtained her trumpet with
much difficulty, but it is safely hidden with Sariel in the chamber
of Shamain.”
Satan looked at Apollyon, searching for the guilt of a lying
tongue. Apollyon did not waver, he did not smile, and he looked
triumphantly at his master. Then, seemingly convinced, Satan
nodded at Baal, who appeared to check that item off of the enor-
mous list he was compiling of the things that needed to be done
in order for this war to be a success.
Apollyon breathed a sigh of relief, not believing that he
had passed that test so easily. However, the Prophet stared at
Apollyon from underneath his dark cloak with a meaningful
glare. Apollyon did not look back at the eyes, but he could feel
their pressure upon him. He thought for a brief moment that his
lie would be given away; but then the Prophet passed him by,
saying nothing at all.
He had a sudden notion that the Prophet knew the truth, but
he did not understand why he had not given him away. He shook
off this worry quickly though as he listened closely to Satan
applying his finishing touches for the battle and the great plans
they had thereafter. Apollyon breathed in a breath of satisfaction
at the achievement of a war that would soon be unleashed upon
the shores of Zion unlike anything they have ever seen before,
and he swelled with pride as he walked amongst the darkest
beings ever created with the thoughts of ruling his own kingdom
blossoming in his mind.
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Satan stood upon his barbican, the black and red rock of his
gateway, outside of the gates of the abyss, taking in his first
observations of Eterni. This world, even under the shadow of the
clouded gray heather, was intensely brighter than the thousand
years he had spent in the pit; and his eyes squinted from the
radiant glow that floated ominously in the gloomy atmosphere.
He held up a milky hand to the sky, and the smoky fog that cir-
culated around the dark kingdom separated like a parted ocean.
The pearl white light of Eterni shot through the murky clouds
like a falling star hitting Satan straight in the face with the force
of a meteor crashing to the ground. His features contorted with
pain as the brightness of the sky seemed to burn his porcelain
flesh. He threw his dark wing above him, blocking the attacking
light; and with a flick of his wrist, the fog returned to its cover as
it shadowed the kingdom in its eerie mist.
Satan lowered his wing as the advancing light faded, and his
malevolent features returned to their customarily evil nature as
he took out a large bottle from within his jet-black armor. The
bottle was as black as night; but when Satan opened the top, a
star seemed to shine from its opening.
“You should be thankful, Apollyon,” Satan said as he took a
swallow from the bottle, “That I had Omael invent inestra. If I
had not, there would have been no way to get my armies to Zion
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destroy them where they stood. The Prophet merely stood there,
cloaked as always, obviously aware of the reasoning and place-
ment of the light, with no comment to add to the situation.
Satan raised his hands in some type of awkward rotation,
pointing them to the sky. Everyone peered upward as changes in
the formation and colors of the fog began to bloom. The skies
above turned from their ashy gray to a jet black thunderstorm
filled with strikes of red lightning in every direction. Rolls of
thunder rumbled all around as Satan gave a broad smile in obvi-
ous pleasure of his new flourishing power that emitted effort-
lessly through his fingers. Each of them looked at him in awe.
Never before had Satan had the ability to create or perform such
magic as he had done since his release from the pit, and he was
not shy about using it. Over and over, he had displayed unnatural
power that was uncommon even for him; and the overwhelming
evil emanating from his body gave everyone around him the dis-
tinct feeling of drowning within themselves.
“He was sadly mistaken by allowing me to be released into
this new world,” Satan said as he took his eyes from the skies that
were filled with a ferocious storm. The Beast, who was standing
beside Abaddon, moved slightly closer to Satan and said in the
slightest whisper, “My Morning Star, what about our secrecy?
The thunder from the storm might give us away. Then the races
of these lands will know...”
The growling voice faded from the Beast as Satan waved him
away, intrigued by something else. He took his eyes away from
the sky and brought them down below his barbican. Underneath
the rolls of thunder could be heard waves crashing powerfully
against the rocky cliffs of his kingdom, which sent his eyes peer-
ing over the side of the tarry black surface to a dingy white sea
below. He smiled at the obvious contamination his glorious
empire had discharged upon the surrounding ocean, which once
held untainted waves within it. He lifted his eyes far away from
the tides rebounding off the rocks to the ocean abroad gleaming
beautifully like a snowy pasture. He had never been necessarily
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fond of the blue ocean of old, but the intensity of the new ivory
sky and the putrid pearl ocean together was making him queasy
as his fingers drew together in a clinched fist.
Immediately, he turned his head from the harassment of the
sea and looked toward the shores that his kingdom sat upon. A
forest of baby blue trees with golden leaves bordered a jeweled,
sandy shore, which appeared more beautiful and more innocent
than Satan had ever expected. Delight filled his pointy features
as the thoughts of fire consuming this shoreline developed within
his mind, and a hunger to infect this world with his iniquity
stirred in his spirit.
As Abaddon approached Satan, he began to continue the
Beast’s prior thoughts as he said, “Sir, what about our conceal-
ment? How will we—?”
But Abaddon was cut off immediately. “Was I not the ruler
of the principalities and powers of the air? And so I am still! I
swear upon the fire that runs through my veins that I will smite
the next one of you who questions my motives.”
Abaddon bowed low and slithered behind the Beast’s shadow.
Then, with the wingspan of a dragon, Satan spread out his mas-
sive wings, revealing a display of jet and scarlet feathers, glowing
like a furious fire. He took one beat of his ferocious wings and
went soaring, over the crackling bridge with a shadow like a bril-
liant red serpent slithering beneath him. At the edge of the shore-
line, awaiting his commands, were the high demons of hell who
had once been the great creatures of the ancient Nephilim. They
were shadowed figures of malice and corruption, who stood upon
the red bridge with black fire highlighting the pathway between
the kingdom and the beach. Satan landed elegantly upon the red
stone, folding his enormous wings casually behind him in front
of his demonic audience.
“Nephilim,” he said, scanning the fiendish group before him.
“I do not wish for any to pass through these lands by my king-
dom during my absence, but do not kill a single being either, for
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Satan gave the signal and ordered Rahab to begin his journey
east, taking them far away from the coastline so they would not
be detected by any of the races upon Eterni on their journey to
Zion.
Apollyon attempted to count the boats as they went by, but
there were too many obstructed from his vision to get a true
number. He leaned over to Baal; and before he realized what he
was doing, he was asking him a question.
“How many ships do we have?” Apollyon asked, almost
as shocked as Baal at the words protruding from his mouth.
Apollyon had realized quickly that in hell, questions were not
permitted; but he almost couldn’t stop himself because he knew
so little. Baal looked annoyed, and Apollyon leaned away from
him swiftly; but surprisingly, he gave an answer.
“There are sixty-six ships attached to each beast and six
legions upon each ship.”
Apollyon gasped at these words but was quieted as Satan
raised his hands. A loud gate could be heard creeping open from
the southern wall now as a demonic sea dragon from the old
age of the dinosaurs with teeth like a dragon and a tail of many
serpents came bolting swiftly around the edge of the kingdom.
She bore horns decorated in colors of blue and gold, and fire shot
from her mouth as she galloped on top of the waves. Attached to
her were black chariots of onyx and sulfur, carrying the legions
of what Apollyon believed to be the remaining dukes and earls
of hell. Satan raised his hand for Seere to stop immediately, not
wanting his beast to get too close to Rahab and create a cataclys-
mic disaster between her and Leviathan and Behemoth.
“Kunopegos,” Satan said with a slight hint of adoration in
his voice.
The horse gave a flirtatious snort, which shot a large amount
of fire from her nostrils.
“You will wait for the rest of the brigades to leave, and then
keep your distance on the western side of me so as not to come
close to Rahab but far enough away from the coast so she shall
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head, and he had the tail and mouth of a dragon with the wings
of an eagle.
Satan burst into a mighty red flame before them all and
became the epitome of evil. Through the flames of fire, Apollyon
watched the first being of darkness become the ancient dragon
of war. Satan’s head grew into seven long necks with massive
dragon heads upon them. His body became red like blood on
fire, and he had ten golden horns and seven silver crowns. He
shot scorching blue fire from his mouth, and he doubled the size
of the Beast and the Prophet. As the mighty red dragon flapped
its wings in the air, he looked down to Apollyon and said, “Now,
show me the way to Zion.”
Apollyon swallowed and lifted his wings into the air, taking
flight with no beast to ride and no weapon for protection. A swift
thought went through his mind that made him immediately sick
to his stomach, and he nearly vomited before the whole army.
He only now remembered the last time he had left this shore and
was on his way to Zion and how difficult of a time he had trac-
ing his way back. Now he was the navigator for the entire army
of hell, and he hoped with everything within him that he would
be able to find his way to Zion, or he would undoubtedly find
himself murdered in the middle of this ocean.
What felt like three day’s had passed and the wings of many crea-
tures began to grow weary, even under the cover of the mighty
black storm that Satan had conjured. The waters below were not
giving off their radiant shimmers as the minions of hell coasted
through them, and they appeared to be becoming contaminated
by the army’s presence of evil. Discouragement was beginning
to rest within the legions prepared for war as the trip to Zion
became more and more burdensome. Apollyon glanced over at
the soldiers upon the chariots being carried by Kunopegos, and
many of them were already taking extra shots of inestra to keep
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the area. Satan glanced around one last time, making sure that no
one was left to place in positions.
He then looked over at the Prophet and said, “Grab the Beast
and follow me.”
The Prophet grabbed hold of the beast with his claws, and
Satan began to flap his massive red wings. They flew completely
parallel to the staircase, passing his last flanks of black ships as
he went by. Higher and higher in the air they climbed, until they
were through the clouds surrounding the waterrise and could no
longer see the ocean below. The first flank of ships he had sent
were just now crossing over the edge of the staircase, and the
Prophet placed the Beast just on the outskirts of the water.
The water was only waist-deep upon the Beast, and he waded
easily through them in the direction of the shore. Satan stooped
low to the water, not to give away their position and give the
angels of Zion any warning. Boat after boat and chariot after
chariot began issuing upon the shores of Zion in every direction
across the whole island. Apollyon had gathered every legion of
his troops and a mighty host of fallen angels among the Icestern
Rainforest, nearly filling the wood. Many animals that nested in
this forest were being killed as the skeletal warriors made room
for their entire infantry. Many birds tried to fly in the direction
of Zion to give off a warning; but the accuracy of the soldiers was
too good, and their black arrows found each of the birds’ hearts
easily.
Satan flew silently over the small portion of water that led
to the silver beaches as his minions near him followed his lead.
This caused every brigade all around the island to continue its
way toward the shoreline awaiting the final signal. He placed
his gigantic claw upon the first plot of sand he had touched in
a thousand years as he raised his heads up and prepared for an
attack. One gigantic, red, triangular head pointed in the direc-
tion of the east as another pointed in the direction of the west.
The other five heads focused upon the heavens of Zion north of
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She ended her song with a smile and a laugh as she knelt
beside the golden spring and washed her face and hands.
“Just as radiant as the day I made you,” a voice sounded in
her ears.
Her heart raced as she jumped up and looked around. From
the east came a light shining brighter than seven suns and a face
that no words could describe.
“Father,” she said with a shining smile. “I knew you would
come back soon.” She ran to him, jumping in his arms to give
Him a long-awaited hug.
“Yes, yes. But I am only here for you, Gabrielle, and for a
short time,” He said lightly.
She continued to smile, but confusion began to twinkle in
her eyes.
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His eyes; and the more she stared at the sparkles of love and
wisdom within them, the lighter her heart felt until she was calm
and hopeful in His presence.
“I haven’t shed tears like this since the crucifixion,” she said
as she sniffled and dried her cheeks.
“I know. I have always loved the color of the tears I gave
you. You should cry more often,” the Father said; and Gabrielle
gave a little chuckle. “I made these tears unique to you alone.
And they are a gift, not a curse,” He said as He picked up one
of the jewels from the ground beneath her. He held it tightly in
His palm as He turned His gaze back to her. His hands lifted up
and rested upon her shoulders as His amazing light washed over
her face. “The time that is coming will be a time of weeping, but
you will soon cry tears of joy if you do not lose hope,” He said
reassuringly.
“I will never lose hope in you, Father,” she said quickly; and
He smiled.
“What is my task for these dark times ahead?” she asked as
she looked at Him with fear and humility.
He gazed upon her with intensity as the next words flowed
from His mouth. “An attack has come from all the borders of the
island. There is no stopping it. You will give Adoniel to Aariel
inside of a soul satchel, along with your trumpet. Send him to
the four emperors of the pearl. The battle will not last long, for
enemies have been scattered amongst my faithful angels in every
heaven. Mikael will make the right decision. Do not doubt him,
and you will wait in the Guph until he sends for you. Tell no other
angel of your son or his whereabouts except for your brothers.”
Gabrielle looked at Him, overwhelmed.
“Where are the soul satchels?” she asked, trying to gather her
thoughts and courage.
“I have left you a single pouch in the Guph, next to the foun-
tain of youth. It is special and will do what you need it to do,” the
Father replied as He placed the amethyst in His robe of light.
Gabrielle was feeling an enormous amount of disorienta-
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tion. She had never before been asked to stand down, not to
fight, to just wait for the battle to be over and deal with the
consequences.
“What will happen to the others? They should be warned,
given a chance.”
The Father interrupted her as He said, “These are your
orders, Gabrielle. It has already begun.”
She looked exasperated but nodded her head. “Yes, Father.
I will do your will,” she said and bowed her head in loyalty and
love.
“I know you will,” He said, and He kissed her upon her fore-
head as His light gradually disappeared.
Now she was alone in the garden with a new set of orders
to fulfill. She had only known her son for six days, six glorious
days that she would cherish forever; but now he was going to be
taken away. Would he survive? Would he be protected? Would she
know him again someday? She did not know the answer to these
questions, and her heart felt faint at these thoughts. She knew
that Jehovah had never let her down before, and she knew His
wisdom and might; but still, there was that hesitancy within her.
She attempted to balance and control the fight that was hap-
pening between her spirit and mind. These tasks would require
more strength and determination than any tasks she had ever
been assigned before, and she needed stability and peace.
I must give up my only son in order for him to survive, she
thought to herself, and her spirit quickly reminisced of the days
of Moses and how he was saved from pharaoh’s hand by a simi-
lar strategy. She remembered also how Jesus had been spared
from Herod’s hand in his youth by Mary and Joseph fleeing to
Egypt on the orders she had been instructed to deliver to them
by Jehovah. This is no different than that, she thought.
Jehovah had laid out the same strategy, the same tactics; and
all those plans had worked perfectly before. These thoughts reas-
sured her of her trust in Jehovah. She had plenty of examples
of trusting Him when it made no sense, and everything always
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turned out blessed. The only difference now was that it was her
son she had to give away, her son she had to sacrifice, and her son
who had to be hidden for some purpose the Lord had made for
him. She would have to trust Jehovah and trust in His orders.
She looked down one last time at the amethysts before her
feet, and then a reflection in the golden pool beside her startled
her. There in the pool was Aariel, the black lion, her scepatar. He
was yelling something to her, but she could not hear. She bent
down low beside the pool.
“Aariel,” she cried, but his response was muffled. He looked
panicked like she had never seen him before, with his mouth
moving franticly in an attempt to relay some message to her ears.
She bent lower beside the pool until her nose was touching the
water; and suddenly, she fell in the golden water with a splash.
She awoke that moment as startled as she had ever been, sitting
upon her chair in the Guph. Adoniel did not flinch inside her
arms as the dream faded away from her mind and Aariel burst
through the pearl doors.
Seven balls of blue fire swam in the air like a swan gracefully soar-
ing through the wind. The flames peaked at their highest height
and then dove, with sudden vengeance, toward the ground. Satan,
the seven-headed dragon, was on the move. He went up through
the river of love, burning the flowered plains as he went. Dozens
of creatures were frozen in fright at the mere sight of the dragon
entering their homes. The few who ran were instantly burned or
stepped on as blue flames shot from seven directions unceasingly.
Within moments, he was passing over the marble steps, where
his wings took flight and sent him speedily toward Zion. Malice
and rage filled his eyes as he burned everything in his path, mak-
ing a clear depiction of his destructive intentions.
The Beast, on Satan’s left, made his way from the south-
east toward the mountains of Trinity, which was the lookout post
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flew over the blue grass between Raquin and Shamain, he saw
angels dressed in white racing across the garden to Mathey, the
fifth heaven, where Zion’s armory was located. If the plan was
going right, Apollyon thought, then the princes of hell should be
entering that heaven at any time, as they were instructed to do,
and stop the distribution of weapons to the remaining faithful
angels. If they were not, Apollyon had already instructed many
of his mutinous angels to do the same, which had been one of
his most important precautions in his preparations for this war.
There is no time to worry about that now though, Apollyon said
to himself as he neared the edges of Shamain. He needed to
get these legions in the first level as quick as possible and find
Gamaliel to see if he had completed his task. He also wanted
to get his sword back from him as the utter uselessness of not
having a weapon was overtaking his mind at the sight of all the
battles beginning to take place.
He looked around at all the skeletal warriors beside him and
thought for a moment about taking one of their weapons from
them, but he was not completely convinced of this legion’s loyalty
to him; and he did not doubt that taking one of their weapons
could easily cause a mutiny against him, most likely resulting in
his death. So, focusing back on retrieving his own weapon, he
motioned for his battalion to follow him sharply into the tunnel
where the silver jubilee glistened like a polished moon.
This jubilee was empty, to Apollyon’s great relief, as more
and more soldiers followed him through its hall. The emerald
and sapphire clouds were once again in an uproar as yellow stars
flew sporadically across the walls and lightning bounced around
violently. Other than this, there was no real change inside the
jubilee; but toward the opening, Apollyon could see nothing
but red smoke. Preparing for whatever was behind that smoke,
Apollyon burst through it with his legions behind him. Shamain
looked like a meteor shower of the universe that had gone hor-
ribly out of control.
The rebellious angels in black robes were battling with the
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ruled by Serafina, his hunch was confirmed. The entire level was
deserted; and strangely enough, everything within it was already
dry and wilting. Apollyon took off toward the first heavenly
hall, which would lead him straight into JA’EL, and from there,
the Guph, where he believed Gabrielle was located and where
Gamaliel should be right now.
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had just successfully put her child and the trumpet inside of it
and the satchel appeared as though nothing was there.
“Gabrielle, what’s going on?” Aariel questioned anxiously.
She turned to look at Aariel with tears in her eyes. “The
Father requires you to take the child with my trumpet and deliver
him to the four emperors in Jerusalem,” Gabrielle said as pink
tears streamed across her cheek.
“The Father what? When did you see Him? I don’t under-
stand. The child? Why?” Aariel sputtered as Gabrielle lifted the
satchel and placed its black straps across his neck, hanging it on
the black fur of his back. She ran her hand through the black hair
of Aariel’s mane, and her eyes were full of tears as she looked into
his eyes that were blazing with white fire.
“Neither do I, my old friend, but these are our orders for this
battle,” she said as she kissed him on the nose.
Aariel’s fur began to stand up on end as the tips became gold
with fire. He spread his two black wings as far as they could
stretch, which was about a wingspan of thirty-three feet across.
“Do not let any harm come to him, please, Aariel,” she said
as she collapsed into her jeweled chair.
“I will protect him with my life, Gabrielle, as I would you,”
Aariel said, and he burst through the pearl doors with a streak of
gold behind him.
He had barely gotten his tail out of the Guph when he heard,
“Aariel!” from a voice across the Yessedekeus River that sounded
shocked and weak. Aariel stopped briefly and looked over to see
Gamaliel, standing there with a sword drawn.
“The battle is not here, Gamaliel. What are you—?”
But Aariel did not finish his sentence as Gamaliel rushed
across the river and into the Guph, through the opened pearl
door.
“Gabrielle!” Aariel screamed as he turned around with a jolt
of fury. The satchel upon his back slid around and slapped him in
the face, causing him to hesitate for one moment.
In that moment, he heard a still, small voice speak to his
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spirit, saying, “She is fine, Aariel. Your job is to deliver the boy.
Now go!”
There was no hesitation left within him as Aariel’s bones
filled with purpose and strength the like of which he had not felt
in a thousand years. He threw out his wings again with the power
of a hurricane and flew off through the circlet down to the fifth
level of JA’EL.
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not appear to have the will to use it anyways. I could just ask her
where it is, he thought suddenly; and a smile grew inside his mind
and then trickled across his face. Yes. Ask her. She does not know
what side I am on. She might think I am trying to help. She is in a
much too pitiful state to use it. And if she won’t give it to me, I could
take it by force. Gamaliel nearly ran to her with excitement at this
knew theory as he gathered his words together in his mouth.
“Gabrielle,” Gamaliel began to say softly and not too anx-
iously. She did not answer but seemed to sob even more uncon-
trollably. “Gabrielle, it’s me, Gamaliel. Are you okay?” he asked
as he edged his way closer to her.
She did not seem to have the slightest inkling of comprehen-
sion that anyone was speaking to her but sobbed continuously
within her arms.
“Gabrielle, we are being invaded by Satan and his minions.
We need your trumpet immediately!” This sentence came out a
little more sternly and a little louder then he had wanted since
she had not even flinched during his previous comments.
Then, like some miracle or blessing, Gabrielle lifted her head
slowly, to the point that only her eyes were overlooking her fore-
arms. The pinks of her eyes were a radiant fire swimming with
gold; and Gamaliel waited for some type of answer, but she just
stared at him.
“Gabrielle, where is the trumpet?” Gamaliel asked again with
hope boiling in his blood.
The words that fumbled out of her lips were soft and muf-
fled, as if she was totally unaware of what she was saying. “He is
gone,” she said, and her sobs increased tenfold.
Gamaliel stepped back instantly from the sudden shock of
her explosion of tears.
“He’s gone? You mean it’s gone?” he asked out loud. “Gone?
Where? How could it have gone? It’s yours. Where is it?”
She didn’t answer, but the tears falling to the floor were mak-
ing small piles of jewels in every direction. He looked at her; and
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quickly with purpose and anger in his heart. Her continuous sob-
bing was not softening up his determination; he needed answers,
and he wanted them now. He walked right up to Gabrielle and
threw her head back by her chestnut hair. Some diamonds fell
from her curls as her body fell limply against the back of the seat.
Gamaliel gasped at the harsh treatment Apollyon was brandish-
ing upon Gabrielle in such a pitiful state.
“I need your trumpet, Gabrielle. And I need it now. If it is in
this room, show me. If not, then you will take me to where it is.
Or I swear by the Almighty Himself that I will run this sword
through your chest.”
Apollyon pressed the sword along Gabrielle’s neck, and she
did not wince. Her tears continued to flow through her blazing
pink eyes, but her muffled sobs had ceased. She seemed to be
putting together a puzzle in her mind as she stared at Apollyon
and his rage.
“You are the traitor,” she said as her tears continued to fall
into amethysts along the floor.
“Excuse me?” Apollyon answered with a hint of surprise.
“You have my keys, the keys to the abyss. Mikael gave them
to you after I gave them to him, and you let him out,” she said
factually.
Apollyon looked amusedly at her for showing a mighty sense
of wisdom in such a terrible state.
“Yes, it was me, Gabrielle. I opened the pit and released the
dragon. I devised a plan to take over Zion, and it is almost com-
plete. Soon, we will reform our armies together and take over the
world of Eterni. And you and every other angel will be impris-
oned by the Morning Star.” Apollyon grinned with some form of
finality in his voice, which suggested that he had just proven his
greatness to her and his worthiness to take her trumpet.
She did not get angry. She did not move or try to fight him.
She sat there and stared at him with eyes like burning fire creep-
ing into Apollyon’s heart.
“Speak, Gabrielle, and tell me where your trumpet is now!”
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him with terror and apprehension. “Were you going to just stand
there and let him kill her?” he asked with wrath emerging across
his face.
Gamaliel stuttered inaudible mumbles of words as Apollyon
screamed in pain from the release of the dagger.
“I will kill you both as judgment for your plots against
Gabrielle,” Haniel cried as he raised three daggers in each hand.
“No, Haniel,” Gabrielle sounded as she stood feebly upon
her feet. “Do not shed blood in this holy place.” The comforts
of her chair were gone; and she walked over to him, resting her
hand upon his shoulder.
Haniel lowered the daggers and stared at Gabrielle.
“Let us tie them up and leave them be. I have heard enough
from Apollyon’s lips,” she said as she made her way to the oppo-
site side of the room.
Haniel looked around in puzzlement and knew that some-
thing was missing.
“Gabrielle, where is Aariel, and where is—?”
But he was quickly cut off by Gabrielle, who said, “He has
been sent to do a task. That is all.”
As her words filtered through his mind, Haniel understood
and knew that further revelation of the child was not permitted
before the present company.
She walked back beside Haniel, slowly holding silvery lines
of what seemed to be thinix.
“Is that spirit lining?” Haniel questioned.
Gabrielle nodded her head.
“I will watch over these two while you rejoin the battle. Help
Mikael and the others. But do not die for this cause, Haniel, for
there will be another time to win this war.”
Haniel looked at her with so much confusion that he could
barely contain himself. When and how could there ever be
another time? He had just barely made it through JA’EL to help
her as Raphael had instructed him to do. Rightfully, there was
not much of a chance at this point that they would have a miracle
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Aariel had left the island of Zion and was flying faster than he
had ever flown before in the direction of Eterni’s shores. The
white sky looked disturbed above him, and the oceans below
were churning with a madness Aariel had never seen. Does the
world know that Lucifer has been released into its realm? he thought
as his wings flapped harder and harder. Murderous cries sounded
behind him, and he took a glance back to see his pursuers. Four
presidents on goshawks were flying with haste as three kings on
locusts tailed behind them.
Aariel knew goshawks and knew their speed. Jerusalem was
still leagues away, and they would surely catch up to him before
he could make it safely within their walls. He needed to make a
decision, and he needed to make it fast. Where could he go to hide
the child? Would he be able to fight off so many foes alone? Where was
the closest place from here? Question after question rolled through
Aariel’s mind as the coastline became visible in the distance, but
the goshawks were gaining ground swiftly in their chase.
I will have to take him to Oethul, Aariel thought, and he began
to descend toward the white waters. If I am correct, I was going to
pass over the forest as the shoreline comes up. The magic of the fornax
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Aariel glanced over at the goshawk that had hit him with
such a fierce force and saw that it was unconscious next to a
thicket of trees. The goshawk’s rider, however, was not knocked
unconscious; and he approached Aariel with a snarl. “Nowhere
for you to run kitty, kitty,” one of the presidents of hell stated
with a husky laugh.
Aariel looked back to his left, and the other three goshawks
were finally creeping into view with their riders attached and
armed. Aariel was appraising each of the presidents before him
and thinking of the other three kings of hell on their way. He
only had precious moments to take on these enemies before their
reinforcements would arrive. He wasn’t sure, but he assumed they
had no idea that he had been carrying anything with him since
the satchel had blended so well with his coat.
“I can’t believe Lucifer sent the four of you after me,” Aariel
said with dead concentration as he crouched in an attacking
position. “Even if there was four more of you and your worthless
birds, this is not a fight,” Aariel stated; and in the blink of an eye,
three spears had been thrown in his direction. The first two he
dodged, and the third he bit in half as he roared with the voice
of ten lions.
The attack was on, and the presidents sent their goshawks
flying at him in quick movements that Aariel easily parried. As
the birds swept around the trees and turned vigorously back
around for a second attempt, the presidents lunged simultane-
ously at Aariel. Three rapiers and one sword swiped through the
air; and Aariel’s good wing knocked the sword from one of them
while he kicked the others with his paws.
“What? Is that too rough for you?” Aariel asked with sar-
casm in his voice. Then one of them jumped from behind Aariel,
attacking him with his rapier in hand, but Aariel dodged him and
broke his leg with one swipe of his claws. The angel screamed as
another charged from Aariel’s side. Aariel swung his tail around
quickly and caught him in the gut. The two others raised their
rapiers and lunged at Aariel’s broken wing. The pain was enor-
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mous as another crack and burst of blood spit from Aariel’s left
wing. Two of the goshawks hammered in at this moment and
dug their claws deep into Aariel’s chest.
Aariel roared with pain; and his black coat burst into a golden
fire, forcing the goshawks from their hold. Aariel ran at three
of the presidents, and they hobbled apart in fear of the lion’s
new wrath. One turned from behind a tree and threw his rapier
at Aariel, which bounced casually off his flaming fur. The third
goshawk came rushing in quickly and grasped hold of Aariel’s
back, but the fur was so hot upon its claws that it released him
immediately and flew off. The four presidents gathered together
for one last desperate attempt on the lion before the kings made
their way into the forest. With weapons drawn and malice on
their faces, they flew into the air with their wings spread wide.
Aariel met them with a fury and rage they had never met before;
and he tackled them all to the ground, slicing and ripping at their
throats. Two of the presidents lay dead upon the floor while the
other two breathed airlessly.
Aariel glanced over his victims but felt a pain like he had never
felt before surge into his back. What felt like a large, pointed
sword had split into his spine through the flames of his coat,
issuing his blood to the floor of the ground. The three locusts of
the three kings had finally arrived; and one of them had stuck its
enormous scorpion tail straight into Aariel’s back.
Aariel collapsed in overwhelming pain as three kings of hell
landed softly on the torn and thrashed ground. Aariel wanted
to move, but his spine had been torn in two. He glanced some
distance away where he had hid the satchel that carried Adoniel
and the trumpet. He hoped that it would remain safe until some
other guardian could find him, for he feared that these were his
final moments. The three kings of hell walked next to Aariel, and
one of them kicked him hard in the ribs where he had been tack-
led earlier. Blood poured from his side as he moaned with pain.
“And where did you think you were going?” a sly, evil voice
whispered in his ears.
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“Come on, Purson. Let’s kill him and get back to the fight.
There may still be some alive for us to torture if we hurry,” a
hideous angel suggested.
Purson lifted a shiny, ruby dagger from inside his cloak. The
other king walked over to the two presidents of hell who were
struggling to get up.
“Hmm. Ose and Valac, is it? You two do not look so well,” he
said, and then he plunged two long swords into their backs, and
they fell to the bloodstained ground.
“Now the lion, Purson, and let’s go,” the others implied,
motioning for the locusts to come forth.
Aariel lay upon his stomach with wounds inflicted all upon
his body. His wings drooped crookedly to the floor as his fur
diminished into its jet-black color again. Purson lifted his leg up
and stood on either side of the great lion with the dagger lifted
just above his head.
“Gabrielle will be so disappointed to hear that her beloved
pet has been slaughtered,” he said, and a tear fell from Aariel’s
eyes as they closed slowly.
Mikael burst out of his chamber with his greatsword drawn. The
scene in his heaven was more than chaotic as angels in black
fought angels in white; skeletal warriors rushed in from every
opening of his heaven with large bat wings he had never seen
before; and outside the mountain, a roar that could only be
Lucifers was issuing loudly from his mouths. Mikael knew that
he must entrust the safety of his heaven to Pachdial and the rest
of his regime, for the dragon was the number one priority.
He bolted toward the golden jubilee, flying past battle after
battle, wishing he could stop and help each one of them. He
entered his jubilee swiftly; but before he could exit, a strong
burst of blue flame passed by the opening, and Mikael knew that
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to the sword, picking it up and soaring back into the air. The
red dragon was searching franticly for Mikael in every direction
while Abaddon was headed toward Araboth and the sapphire
jubilee. Mikael glanced in Abaddon’s direction and saw that Uriel
and Raphael had joined the fight in the garden and were battling
hard with the Beast and the Prophet.
Uriel’s ruby bow was sending pearl arrows into the thick, black
hair of the Prophet as he flew around him with ease. Raphael had
apparently plunged his silver spear into the Beast several times,
for there were blood stains all across its yellow fur as Raphael
prepared to strike again. But as Raphael lunged at the Beast,
he was intercepted by Abaddon, whose winged dragon knocked
Raphael back against the mountain. This time, Abaddon was not
alone as Baal came into view, chasing Uriel through the air with
the quick speed of Ryphon. Mikael was positive that Raphael
and Uriel could have taken the Beast and the Prophet by them-
selves, but he was not so confident that they could take on all
four of them at once. They needed Haniel, and they needed him
quickly.
Mikael turned his attention back to the dragon and knew
that if he could take him down, they could have a chance at win-
ning this war. He flew with all the speed he could muster in his
wings and headed for the dragon’s chest again. A thick patch
of smoke suddenly surrounded the area as legions with magi-
cal staffs sent black clouds issuing all around the atmosphere
surrounding the mid section of the dragon. Mikael was caught
instantly in the darkness and flew with great speed through the
thicket to the other side. All seven heads of Lucifer were ready
for Mikael when he reappeared, and seven blades of flame shot
at him simultaneously. Mikael dodged and maneuvered as best
he could, but the trap had been well-set. A sinister blaze of fire
sliced through his left wing, searing off most of his feathers.
The dragon seized his opportunity and went for the kill as
Mikael began to fall through the air. Seven heads with mouths
of a hundred spears darted toward Mikael’s falling body with
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triumph and hunger in their jaws. The first of the seven heads
was right at Mikael’s feet when he was scooped out of the air by
an unknown rescuer. Mikael looked over as the loss of blood was
quickly taking its toll on his vision, but he could see the multi-
colored wings well enough to know that Haniel had saved him.
Words of gratitude could have never said more than the look
Mikael gave him.
“Mikael, you are badly wounded,” Haniel stated as Mikael
tried to move his wing.
He could not say anything as he lay within Haniel’s arms.
“This may seem crazy, but I do not think we can win this
war. And Gabrielle has told me strange things that I think you
should hear.”
Mikael looked at Haniel as blue flames shot by both of
them.
“I think we should surrender before any more die,” Haniel
exclaimed as Mikael looked at him in shock.
“And what? Give Lucifer Zion? You are crazy,” Mikael
responded exhaustedly.
Haniel burst through the opening of the first hall, which was
luckily deserted. He laid Mikael gently upon the floor next to
Yessedekeus.
“I know its madness, but Gabrielle said that there will be
another chance to win this war, and I believe her. I know this
seems crazy, but I think we should surrender and see what
Jehovah has in store for the future.”
Fire ripped through the hall as the dragon began to walk
through the garden in pursuit of Mikael.
“We don’t have much time,” Haniel said. “We either surren-
der or die, and Gabrielle asked me to tell you not to die and to
make a choice!” Haniel exclaimed desperately.
Mikael looked into Haniel’s eyes that were full of truth and
urgency. If he did surrender, he was sure that Lucifer would not
kill them. No. He would want to torture them for eternity. What
a decision to make in a split second of time. Hand over Zion
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with a white flag, or die. I would rather die, Mikael thought; but
as he looked at Haniel again, the words of Gabrielle seemed to
pass upon his ears in her own voice: “Please don’t die, make the
choice.”
Mikael cupped his hand and drank one handful of water from
Yessedekeus. “Tell the others to meet me in the throne room.
That is where he will want to go, and send up the signal of sur-
render,” Mikael said as he lifted himself off the ground. “I hope
Gabrielle knows what she’s doing. But, alas, I do not even know
if we could have won this battle either way.”
Haniel nodded his head and burst through the clouds of the
hall and back into the garden to retrieve Uriel and Raphael.
Mikael made his way into JA’EL, where a slaughter had
taken place and nothing seemed to be moving anymore. Legions
from hell and the people of the rainbow lay dead or injured all
along the land; and Mikael flew slowly, with his one wing toward
the circlet. He did not have to bear the burden of one wing very
long, as Raphael and Uriel were quickly on their way to the sev-
enth heaven with Haniel as their guide. They picked up Mikael
midway between JA’EL and the Guph as he was struggling
immensely to fly.
“We need to get Gabrielle and the boy taken somewhere
safely away from the island,” Mikael said as Raphael and Uriel
lifted him by each arm.
“The boy is already gone, and how and why I do not know.
But I will get Gabrielle on the way to the throne room. We do
not have much time. They are coming,” Haniel said this and took
the exit into the sixth level of the Guph to retrieve Gabrielle. The
others passed the sixth level and flew into the seventh, which was
the throne room of God.
This area was like another world, with sapphire walls filling
the room and Yessedekeus running across the floor like a sea of
glass. A breed of angels called galgalim stood along these walls
and they were strikingly glorious and silent. They did not look in
any direction but the throne at all times, and the presence of the
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great archangels did not stir them. In the center of the room was
the throne of Jehovah, and it was made of light with an emerald
rainbow arched above it. It was simple and magnificent all at the
same time, like a sunset and a sunrise mingled together. Haniel
had gathered up Gabrielle quickly; and though she was in a very
weak state, they rushed to the throne room together. They joined
the other three quickly, in hopes for a few words before Lucifer
and his minions arrived.
“Mikael!” Gabrielle gasped; and she ran to him, putting her
arms around him and looking over his wounds that were begin-
ning to heal.
“It could have been a lot worse,” Mikael said as Gabrielle
touched his wing that was mending slowly. He groaned in pain,
and more tears fell from her face.
“There’s not much time. I made my decision based upon your
words to Haniel, Gabrielle. Why did I make such a choice?” he
asked as he looked at her with the need for quick answers.
Tears streaked down her face as a vast amount of screeches
and yells came from two or three levels below.
“You made the right choice because you always do,” Gabrielle
answered with a roll of tears. Then she looked at all of them and
said, “Jehovah spoke to me and said that a new Morning Star has
arisen amongst us, and he will challenge and defeat Lucifer when
the time is complete.” More sobs poured from within her as she
put her face hard into her hands.
They all looked at one another as more questions hung in
their minds and upon their lips, but it was too late to speak of
them.
Lucifer had now transformed back into his wicked angelic
body and was walking with a pride that emitted from his skin
like a toxic radiance. Although Mikael had pierced him several
times, he looked as if he had just been newly made. Following
him were the Prophet; the Beast; Baal; Abaddon; Baphomet;
Sabaoth; and many kings, princes and presidents of hell, who
also looked unscathed from the battle. This magnificent group of
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evil beings made their way in from the circlet and stopped just
outside of the circle, apparently in awe or disgust of the beauty
and glory of the throne room.
“Just as I remembered it a long time ago,” Lucifer said with
no response from anyone else. He looked around as if soaking
up his marvelous victory with a satisfaction upon his face that
he had never worn before. Then his eyes found Mikael and the
other great archangels crowded together upon the floor, just feet
away from them. “I told you once before, Mikael, that this seat,
this land, and this world should rightfully be mine. I am the heir
to the throne. I am the Morning Star, and for me these things
were made.”
Mikael turned his eyes away from Lucifer’s gaze, for the iniq-
uities and injustice of his words were too much to bear.
Lucifer laughed a sick laugh and said, “Tie each of them up
separately.”
“Gladly,” came the reply from Baal as he caught a cluster of
chains that had been conjured from Lucifer’s hand. Baal tossed
the chains in the hands of four others as they followed him to
the great archangels, strapping them down with as much force as
possible as fists found each of their faces repeatedly. Blood trick-
led down the lips of each of the great archangels as they watched
Lucifer stroll through the throne room, defiling every piece he
could grasp with his touch.
“Oh, that is just the beginning,” Lucifer said with a laugh,
not looking back at Mikael. “The five of you are going to have so
much fun in my new reign of terror. In fact, you should be beg-
ging me right now to kill you all and save yourselves the torture.
Not that I would accept it when there are so many ways I want
to hurt you,” Lucifer exclaimed as he licked his lips and turned
around to gaze at Gabrielle.
Lucifer’s taunts ceased as he passed the first of the galgalim
angels staring at the throne. As he glided by, he spat and slashed
his nails across their faces. Not a single galgalim moved or
flinched but continued to stare at the seat of Jehovah with pride
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and exaltation. Lucifer took little interest more than this in the
galgalim angels, for his aim was set for what was known as the
mercy seat, the Throne of Jehovah.
Lucifer waved his fingers through the air; and upon his head,
a golden crown appeared, adorned with jewels and carvings in a
majestic and royal manner. Lucifer twisted his fingers through
the air again, and a golden staff bejeweled with the same stones
as his crown appeared within his hands as he stopped right
before the seat of Jehovah. Every eye was watching him either
with adoration and pride or disgust and disappointment. Lucifer
unfolded his malevolent wings and flapped them high over the
throne seat that was a hundred times his size. He turned around
and faced them as he glided down softly to the seat and sat there
triumphantly.
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fire red dust from within one of their satchels. As they stood over
the bodies, they sprinkled the dust upon them, which instantly
turned to flame. Purson began to walk back toward Aariel,
fumbling in one of his own satchels for the firedust. The lion
lay motionless upon the ground; and Purson stood over him,
delighted by his kill.
Suddenly, an explosion ignited the sky and shook the forest.
Purson stumbled to the ground as he pulled all the dust from his
bag burning himself in various places. He jumped hurriedly out
of the flames, patting his burns out swiftly. A large, yellow light
was fading from the sky above; and all three of the kings gazed
back up to the darkness. The universe was not at peace above
their heads as a normal universe might be. The stars that had
momentarily been resting in their designated places were moving
in every direction now, streaking across the skies with a madness
no one understood.
“What is happening?” one of the kings asked in astonish-
ment of the sights above him.
“I don’t know, but I think it’s time we headed back,” Purson
exclaimed.
They whistled for their locusts who speedily came hither.
Another flash blasted across the sky from two more stars col-
liding. This time, the light was a faint red; and it lit the forest
with an eerie tinge. The universe above seemed to be at war with
itself as star after star crashed into one another in a vicious rage.
Some explosions were distant; and some were just in the outer
atmosphere, displaying bursts of light in different formations
across the world.
Purson reached into his satchel, but there was no more
Firedust to be had and he spat on Aariel as he walked away. As
the stars continued their chaotic dance in the sky, three locusts
presented themselves before their three kings. They mounted
their creatures hurriedly; and in a brisk movement, they were
back in the skies, headed toward Zion. The four goshawks that
still remained alive from the presidents’ lot spread out their
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299
Endnotes
1 Proverbs 8:12-36
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