The Pleasures of Hell

~~David~~

"I killed Galon," Moriah said. "I thought he was a traitor. Yosepha confirmed as much. But... But I should not have done so. I have learned since that the unmarked, or at least the unmarked Galon and Yosepha were helping, is a good soul, Saar. And they are the target of invaders. We should protect them, not hunt them. The council is wrong."

More angels descended, and while they didn't land, they hovered only an inch or two above the ground. Each was a rapholem, covered head to toe in absurd amounts of armor, each wielding a spear in their right hand, and a shield in their left so big it was almost as tall as they were. All of them looked at Moriah at first, but as the silence hung heavy in the air, they looked at each other.

"The council is wrong?" Saar asked.

"Yes."

"The council has decreed the unmarked must die."

Moriah shook her head and held out her sword at her side. "The council does not explain why. They give us no reason. But I have seen nothing but compassion, empathy, and a desire to do good from the one unmarked I have helped."

"It is not our place to question the council."

Moriah took a step forward. "Invaders worm their way into our world, and what does the council say of it? Never in all of existence has such a thing occurred. What orders have the council given about the invaders since we last spoke?"

Again, the angels around Saar looked at each other, and a few whispered things. Definitely not the immovable, stoic warriors they were supposed to be.

"Invaders?" Saar asked.

"Invaders! Strange creatures have broken into Hell, or have you not seen them? They climb up from the canyons, invisible at first, but they gain form the longer they exist in our realm. Creatures with the faces of squid bodies. And they wish the unmarked dead."

A mikalim floated down and landed behind Saar.

"I have seen such a creature," he said. "Large. It wandered the mountains of Death's Grip, and disappeared into the tunnels. From so high, I thought it a hellbeast, a breed I did not recognize."

Another angel flew down. "I saw something similar, as well. Smaller. A group."

Chatter broke out, angels describing creatures, some angels insisting what they saw were merely hellbeasts. The chatter ended cold stop when Saar slammed the bottom of his spear against the rock ground. Without a word, every angel stood at attention, a few adjusting their position to form ranks.

"The council must be obeyed!" Saar yelled. "We are to kill the unmarked, and kill anyone who stops us. The council has been our guide for millions of years, and--"

Moriah stepped forward again, and the distance between her and Saar shrank to nothing.

"Never, in the history of Heaven and Earth, has an angel ever assaulted a soul worthy of Heaven!"

"Heaven denied them!"

"I do not know why Heaven denies them, but it is not their fault."

Saar flared his wings. "You dare suggest that the great cycle is flawed? The Great Tower is God's creation. We are its servants. It does not make mistakes."

"Tell that to Ramiel."

Saar's eyes shone gold for a split second, and Moriah slid back an inch.

"Moriah of Azoryev, third rank, I am giving you a direct order. I may not be your captain, but I am a captain of Azoryev, and you will obey. You will tell me where the unmarked is, and we will deal with them if you cannot."

Moriah held out her wing. "Angels of Azoryev! Some of you know me! I... committed a heinous sin. I struck out with anger, and killed a fellow angel. But I will not let my arrogance be our downfall! I will bear the punishment due for my sin, but you must understand. I made a grave error, and I must atone. The unmarked I guard is not deserving of Hell, and is connected to this strange invader. The invaders want him dead. The council wants him dead. Surely you must see something is wrong!"

David stared up. The canopy blocked most of what he could see, but the area around Moriah grew darker, and the edges of the shadows fluttered. Hundreds of angels packed together, more above out of sight. Their wings were blocking the burning sky's light.

Beyond the edge of the forest was the entrance to the Scar, a ravine between two giant mountains that dwarfed the mountains of Death's Grip, with even steeper ridges. They weren't walkable. It wasn't even climbable unless you had claws. From what he could see, there weren't any tunnels this high up. The only thing in the Scar worth checking out was past the mouth and deep in its recesses. Blocked by a thousand angels.

Moriah lifted her sword. "When this mystery is solved and the invader exterminated, I will accept whatever punishment Azoryev or the council has for me. But until then, my life belongs to the unmarked. He saved my life from the rider, and is doing all he can to save the Great Tower."

Wing flared, she lowered the sword and drew a line in the ground. The mirror blade had no trouble slicing through the black and red stone.

"So I say to you, angels of Azoryev, that I stand against the council! I do not know what ails them, but they hide their tongues and leave us in shadow. Enough! For centuries, they have barely spoken a word, and now they speak with orders to kill the unmarked? I cannot guarantee all unmarked are Heaven-worthy, but the one I defend is, and that is proof enough to me that the council is broken. And like Galon, like Yosepha, and like others who have not made themselves yet known, I will not obey false orders! I make my stand here!"

Saar stood only five feet from Moriah, spear held like a staff at his side. The angels behind and above him hovered at attention, spears at the front, swords above them, and, if David guessed right, bows above them. If they attacked her, it wouldn't be a battle, it'd be an execution.

Saar stepped back. His wings drooped. His spear fell forward, and he held it upside down, tip nearly touching the ground.

"The islands Ravid and Avinoam agree with you."

Moriah stood up straighter, somehow. "What?"

"They disagreed with our treatment of Yosepha, but it was your strike against Galon and his death that ignited the change. Azoryev is committed to the council and the death of the unmarked, but for the first time since the First War, an angel has openly struck and killed another. And here you stand, regretting your actions, while angels above us fight!?"

Civil war. The angel was talking about civil war.

"Has anyone else died?" Moriah asked.

"No. But now what am I to do, Moriah? A thousand angels at my command, ready to destroy the unmarked that I am sure hide behind you. A hundred captains from Azoryev scour the land, ready to fight, to obey the council. You hoist the responsibility to make this decision now, to decide for the rest of Heaven what will happen, onto my shoulders. You ask me to choose if I should start this war."

"Angels do not war among themselves."

"The council is silent!" Saar slammed his shield's bottom edge against stone. The echo pulsed through the forest, straight up into David's guts. "Even as we angels argue and fight, even as Ravid and Avinoam disagree with Azoryev and Yathael, the council says nothing. Am I left to make this decision for us all?"

Moriah shook her head and held her sword out at her side. "The invader comes for the Great Tower, Saar. They come for the unmarked, and for the Great Tower. Surely you must recognize that."

For all the insanity of the conversation, not once did Saar or Moriah consider, even for a moment, that the other was lying. No need for Mia to decipher any subtext, everything was bare and obvious with the way they spoke, the way they stood, and the way they stared at each other relentlessly.

"The council's will," Saar said, stepping back again, "is the will of Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael. God and the archangels trusted them to rule us, and I will not be the one who breaks that--"

"They do not rule us!" Moriah pointed her sword at the man, and flared her one wing. "And you are weak to think they do."

Saar lowered his gaze. No one said a thing. No one breathed. The flapping wings of angels and the quiet background hum of the burning sky were the only noises, until David heard his heartbeat pulse.

The angel flapped his wings, ascended several feet, and pointed his spear down at Moriah.

"So be it." He raised his shield and gestured forward. "Kill her."

David didn't wait to see what happened.

"David!" Caera said behind him. "David, don't--"

He exited the forest and stood beside Moriah. He was right. The angels high above wore the lightest armor and wielded bows and arrows. Below them were the mikalim in full plate armor, wielding swords and shields. Below them were the rapholem, wearing armor so thick they were walking walls, wielding shields that might as well have been walls, too. Gold and silver armor, with weapon blades so polished and sharp, they were literal mirrors, and each angel sported eyes of intense color.

A thousand angels, each flapped their wings and created an unending breeze. And every single one of them stared at David like he was some mythical entity.

David summoned batlam, summoned his armor and staff in a red glow, and in a seemless motion, slammed his staff's bottom on the ground. The angels flinched.

"The invader is real. Some strange alien thing. It's attacked me twice now. The rider has been trying to kill me, too." With his black metal armor and red jewels on full display, he squeezed the staff and slammed it again. Again, the angels flinched. They feared him. Because of Mia? "And all I've been doing is trying to save the world. I don't know why Heaven stopped me from entering. Maybe it has something to do with the aliens. Whatever the reason, I'm going to keep going." He pointed the staff up, aimed the jewel and its amber fire up at the angels, and glared daggers. "Why don't you do something about the unmarked in the Navameere Fields?"

Ranks broken, the angels shifted about, each ready to dive bomb, each slowly shifting and hovering. If they attacked him now, he'd have a hard time defending himself quick, and whatever he did, it wouldn't be enough to stop a thousand angels.

If they fought, he'd have to strike first.

"Unmarked," Saar said. "You--"

"I asked you a fucking question!" He struck his staff again, and the ground vibrated. He played the music, reached for the sky, and told it to move. It did. Bolts of red lightning streaked across the swirling black and ember clouds, and thunder followed, a heavy roar that shook the forest behind him, and echoed in the mountains before him. "If I had to guess, it's because whoever the unmarked is in the Navameere Fields, they're not heading toward False Gate, right?"

Saar flared his wings and lowered back down to the ground, but stopped a couple inches above it.

"I cannot answer your questions, unmarked."

"My name is David."

The angels above glanced between each other. Did they know his name? Or maybe they just hadn't expected him to have one?

"David," Saar said. "You have been denied by Heaven, and the council has decreed you must die."

"And yet, an unmarked who is known to all, is making massive waves a couple provinces clockwise from me. Why aren't you launching your angels at them? Why aren't you going to war to kill them?" He took a step forward. Sure enough, the angels backed up just as much. "You're only concerned with the unmarked trying to reach False Gate, aren't you?"

Saar didn't respond.

"I don't know your council. I don't know why they aren't talking to you anymore. What I do know, is something doesn't add up. You're down here looking for me and others, on their orders I'm guessing, but there's an unmarked you could be attacking more directly but aren't. So they don't actually want you to kill me, or at least, that's not their primary goal. They want you to stop me from reaching False Gate. Why?"

"I cannot answer your questions, David."

For all the frustration and anger bubbling up through David's veins, he was pretty damn happy the angels were willing to have a conversation. He'd half expected this to devolve into a fight immediately. If they'd been demons, it definitely would have.

"Some unmarked are awful," David said. "But I know of at least one unmarked who is one of the nicest people to ever live. She's the one who created the firestorm in Death's Grip." He shook his head and glared up at the army of holy warriors. "She had to kill angels to stay on her mission and probably save her friends, knowing she'd have to deal with the guilt for the rest of her life. That's how much she believed in this mission. That's how much I believe in this mission. So you will get out of my way, now!" Again, he slammed the staff against the rock below, and again the burning sky above cracked with red lightning.

The angels didn't flinch this time. They reformed ranks, a colossal upside-down pyramid of two thousand wings, all aimed down at him. He'd stirred the hornets' nest.

David shook his head again. "Please. Don't make me kill you."

The thunder and lightning didn't startle them anymore. Using the word 'please' did. Again, the angels looked between each other, some stirring, some slowly lowering their weapons. Either they had some special ability to tell when someone was using language deceptively, or David's usual inability to lie and deceive was working to his advantage.

Moriah looked up and sucked in a breath. David followed.

A comet? A silver color streaked across the sky, cut through the fire clouds, split them, and summoned a quiet rumbling roar of its own. It fell toward the pyramid of angels, and David winced as the silver light grew brighter. It didn't bother the angels, but they did move, their formation splitting apart so the descending sphere of light had clear space to approach.

The sphere slowed. Colors dissipated, and a silhouette emerged, someone with white wings.

An angel landed on the ground ten meters away from David, someone wearing silver armor, with bits of black silk hanging from between the joints. Thick armor, but not as thick as a Rapholem's. A mikalim, then, their face partly hidden in their helmet, and sword and shield already out and at their side.

David glanced up. A thousand angels above him, and their batlam runes dressed them the same, silver and gold armor, with bits of white silk hanging from between the joints. The gabriem armor was fairly light, with bits of their limbs exposed, and their helmets didn't cover their faces. The mikalim armor was heavier and covered every bit of skin, with t-slit openings in their helmets big enough to show their eyes, nose, and mouth. The rapholem armor was even more ridiculous, and the front opening of their helmets was small, hiding their features in shadow.

Whoever this angel was, they looked like a mikalim, same armor, same shield, same sword, but the color was all off. Pure dark silver armor? Black underclothes?

The closer the angel grew, the more the differences showed themselves. Symbols. The other angels' armor showed flowing lines that danced with each other like water and vines. This angel's armor had none of that. Instead, flowing lines danced along the edges of his gauntlets, pauldrons, and greaves, but each collected into a skull embossing at a center point. On his chest was the same, a skull embossing where the flowing lines of the breastplate met.

A reaper.

"Ezekiel," Moriah said. She stepped around David, lowered her wing, and blocked him off from the casually strolling angel of death. "What are you doing here?"

The man stopped. Ten meters away wasn't far enough.

"I saw the sky churning. I had to see this for myself." His voice was gentle, soothing even, and a little high pitched. A natural tenor. His facial expression was neutral, his posture relaxed, and he summoned a tiny smile barely visible through his helmet.

The angels above had stopped looking at David and Moriah, or at the forest they knew hid watching demons. They were all looking at Ezekiel.

"Ezekiel," Saar said with a deep nod. "This angel is... convinced that the council is mistaken, and that the unmarked are key to stopping an alien invader from destroying them, us, and perhaps the Great Tower."

Say one thing for an angel, they were good at summarizing. David winced, but kept his eyes on the reaper in front of him. He looked just like the other angels, a perfect face, tall, muscular and lean without being overbuilt. Bits of his long blonde hair peeked out from the base of his helmet. Pale skin. Deathly pale.

"Name?" Ezekiel asked.

"David."

Another small smile graced the angel's lips. "Have you slain Goliath?"

David blinked. "Wha--oh, the story." He sucked in a breath, unable to look away from the silver and black angel of death. A scary man, but not terrifying. It was strange, like a sort of mixture of calmness and dread. Like standing on the precipice of a cliff at night, in dead silence, while caressed by a cool breeze.

Ezekiel continued. "Other angels from Azoryev speak of the unmarked who stopped them, at the border of Death's Grip and the Black Valley. A girl, with long red hair and freckles. Your sister, I assume?"

David didn't answer.

The angel smiled and nodded. "Mia."

David twitched. "What do you know about her?"

Sighing, the angel shook his head, each motion smooth and perfect. It almost gave David an uncanny valley feel, like the man wasn't real.

"Azoryev and Yathael have begun fighting with Ravid and Avinoam because of your sister, David. Galon and Yosepha are but two of many angels who think something is wrong with the council."

Moriah snarled. "What would you know? You sit on your perch and watch the afterlife go by and do nothing, you and all your kin."

Ezekiel nodded and looked up at the swirling sky above. "Moriah."

She froze. "You know me?"

"Your name echoes through all of Heaven. Every island knows you, the angel who killed another angel. The first to draw blood." Slowly, taking all the time in the underworld, Ezekiel set his blue eyes on Moriah. Azurite eyes. David didn't know what azurite looked like, but seeing the angel's eyes told him. "How sinful."

Moriah flinched, and her protecting wing fell to David's feet.

"Are you here to punish me, reaper?"

"No. As I said, I'm here to see an unmarked for myself." He came closer. Moriah didn't react. Either she'd given up on the idea of surviving this, on the idea of protecting David, or she trusted the man to not strike first. "In hundreds of millions of years, only two incidents on this side of the gate of life have ever earned my attention. Ramiel, invading the surface world. And now the unmarked, agents of chaos, made worse a thousandfold by an angel controlled by her emotions." He smiled again, small things, like a fashion model giving a gentle look for the camera. "Strange they both occurred so close together."

"A hundred years apart," Moriah said, "is not so close for the rest of us."

"Seconds apart compared to the age of the Great Tower. They are connected. And I am here to see what that connection is." Ezekiel took a step closer. "Come here, David. I promise I will not hurt you yet."

Yet. No hesitation on that last word, either. David looked at Moriah, but the angel kept her eyes on the reaper and slowly moved her wing out of the way.

David sucked in a breath and approached the angel of death, while a thousand angels watched from on high, all waiting for the signal to unleash Armageddon. Each step was loud, his metal boots echoing against the rock and rising mountain walls of the Scar's entrance. The swirling sky of fire above, likely summoning other angels as they spoke, became white noise.

David stopped a foot away, his staff beside him, bottom against the rock. He stood tall, but it felt pointless in front of a seven-foot-tall angel who was, apparently, millions of years old. So absurdly perfect, the angel was both handsome and beautiful, a clean-shaven face that made him look in his mid twenties. And his blue eyes shined with hints of silver in the deep color.