Angel Warriors: The Serialized Novel

I

The first faint glow of Light streaked across the Heavens, casting long, narrow rays from the horizon. The Warrior Angel Mihdael hastened his flight across the midnight blue of Space, knowing it would be unwise to reach his destination late. Archangels didn’t like to be kept waiting.

“Have you not heard, Mihdael?” Lucifer caught the warrior’s attention as he swept by. “There is talk among the Seraphim. God is once again planning to create another race of beings.”

Mihdael, anxious to report to Archangel Michael’s summons, paused at the Dawn. He nodded absently. “Raphael mentioned it to me in passing. I cannot delay, Lucifer. Michael has summoned the Army. I must be there by the first Light.”

“And am I not the one who brings that Light? Stop now, and hear me out.”

The Warrior Angel’s golden aura settled finally, the rays merging with Lucifer’s platinum radiance. “Very well,” he relented. He would deny Lucifer very little, even at the risk of Michael’s displeasure. Lucifer’s strangely insistent manner piqued his curiosity, for there had been none of the hushed awe in the Light-Bringer’s voice, as had been in Raphael’s. Lucifer had sounded affronted. “What is it you wish to say?”

“You would do well to listen, and to heed, my words. This time, it is to be different. This time,” Lucifer added in a darker tone, “He is to make the beings in His image."

“What of it? We are in His image, are we not? That is, when we wish to take His form.”

“That is so; and we are His favored, destined to receive His charge of the Throne of Heaven.”

Mihdael shook his head, not following Lucifer’s logic. “That was never stated, never promised.”

“Our Father has revealed most of His Plan to His Seven Archangels of the Presence to eventually give over Heaven to His best creation, while the Trinity ascends to yet a higher realm. Who else would ascend to the Throne, if not Archangels? Who better to rule Heaven, if not His most perfect and best-loved creations?" His voice grew confident. "And who but I, Lucifer, the most beautiful and brilliant of all Archangels, would be worthy of such rule?"

“I have neither the time, nor the patience, for the politics of Archangels. It matters not to me if our Father creates one or a hundred; whether they are in His image or crawl about on all fours. As His soldier, I am charged with Heaven’s defense; and, whether I serve Michael--or another Archangel--my duties will not change.”

“Do not be so certain of that, Warrior.” The silvery rays reached out, blending with Mihdael’s golden aura. “You are my brother Angel, but I love you better than most of my fellow angels. I would not wish for us to be at odds.”

“We will never be at odds. Have I not stood by you, always?”

“Yes. You have proven your loyalty and devotion many times over. You are much more flexible than Michael. You have qualities that, to me, make you a logical successor to Michael as Commander of the Celestial Army.”

Mihdael accepted the praise eagerly. Archangel Michael rarely recognized his warriors as individuals. Michael considered his army as a whole, their victories and failures shared as one, their praise, discipline, and reprimands shared as well. And Lucifer, a highly placed Archangel, always seemed to know the right thing to say, at just the right time. He had always considered the warrior angel an equal, as well as a close and trusted friend. “Why would Michael need a successor? I would become Commander only if Michael is unable to command, and even that unlikely event would be temporary.”

“As Prince of the Presence, Michael will not be required to command the army forever; as the Trinity ascends, so shall Michael. He has the option to select his successor on a permanent basis, and still personally oversee the defense of Heaven.”

“Would that you would make that choice, Lucifer.” The Warrior replied in a tone both droll and wistful. “My appointment as Commander would be assured.”

“I may, one day,” Lucifer’s voice took on a singular tone, as if he had information known only to himself. “But I am pleased to know that you stand with me still. I will hold the Light until you answer Michael’s summons.”

Lucifer watched as Mihdael’s golden radiance faded out of sight, his thoughts far from the Light of Dawn. The Archangel with the highest office in the Seraphim, the office of the Ha-Satan, had known all the details of God’s plan for this new race, for the Creator kept nothing from the Chief of the Seraphim. The Ha-Satan, in turn, had related those details to him and to other Archangels: Astaroth, Uvall, and Mephistopheles. Powerful Archangels all, and whose power and positions would be jeopardized by this new race of proposed beings.

Beings created in His image, and therefore favored by Him.

II

The Creator’s brilliant, pure white radiance enveloped the entire assemblage of the Heavenly Host. All were in attendance, from the highest in the Seraphim to the lowest order of Angel. He rarely announced His plans beforehand, but this was a special occasion for the Angelic Hierarchy would be involved.

Hear My Words, Angel and Archangel, from the highest Seraphim to the lowest Angel:

I wilt bring forth a new race, a race in My Image. A race to embody and reflect My Glory and Grace. A race that will continue for all time, and will ultimately advance to Heaven’s Realm.

Awed silence followed the words, and then a green-white radiance approached the Throne. "I neither question nor oppose my Father’s will, but wish only to point out possible dangers to my Father and His Realm."

And are there others who speak with thee, Angel of Peace?

A second glow joined the first, the ivory rays pure and untainted. "I would speak with him, Father."

Thou mayesr do so, Angel of Truth. Sayeth now what thou findeth to be distressing.

The Angel of Peace bowed, and spoke first. "If these beings are to be in Your image, are they also to have Your intellect, Your power, and Your omniscience?"

They wilt have the ability to strive to match My intellect. They wilt have no power save what I allow them; nor wilt they know all that wilt be. Instead, they wilt be granted freedom of will, of choice.

"But, Father," the Angel of Truth broke in, "do You think it wise to bestow such freedom on beings that could one day turn against You?"

Doest thou question My wisdom?

"I recognize the potential for conflict not only between such beings and Yourself, but with Your angels as well. Such freedoms that You would allow may, in turn, prove to be Your undoing.” The Angel of Truth paused, looked at the assemblage of angels, and returned his concerned gaze to his creator. “Would it not be wiser to make them less than You, and bind their obedience to You…and us?"

An uncomfortable shift of feeling rippled throughout the multitude of angels, the undercurrent of apprehension--faint, but discernible. Lucifer picked up on the wavering emotions, and mentally noted each Angel and Archangel who held such cautious views. As for himself, he kept his own counsel, having been forewarned by the Ha-Satan not to voice any opposing views.

Doest the Angel of Peace agree with the Angel of Truth?

"I find I must, Father, if Heaven is to survive."

Are there any others who are in accordance with thee?

No other angel responded, and the two Angels stood alone before their Creator.

And if I shouldst command thee to accept My will on this, as on all things?

"I could not," the Angel of Truth replied.

"Nor could I," the Angel of Peace agreed.

Wilt thee not reconsider thy words?

The pale green rays flashed as the Angel of Peace sought to verbalize his fears. "I could not rest easy, knowing of the danger to You, to Heaven. I cannot be in agreement with You."

"His words are true, Father," the Angel of Truth added, his ivory aura flaring with the intensity of his belief. "You cannot grant any being with both Your image and Your intellect, for they would learn to question You, and find fault with Your angels. They will seek to rule us, to control Heaven. I cannot be in agreement with You, for such a race would be disastrous to all."

If thee hath so little faith in Me, in thyself, then thy vows to Me hath been broken. Thee shalt suffer the ultimate consequences, Angels of Peace and Truth; thee wilt be no more. I takest from thee My Grace, My Glory, and My Light. I takest also thine souls, for it wilt be as if neither angel ever existed.

Astonished at the unexpected harshness of the judgment against the two Angels, Lucifer watched with dark presentiment as separate spheres of force enclosed each Angel’s radiance.

Within the globes, the fields of energy contracted, but could not escape the internal blasts of blue-white flame. The lack of sound, of movement, made the destruction of the two Angels that much more appalling.

Then, after a final, soundless implosion, the spheres vanished. Nothing remained, no spark, no thought, no wisps of energy.

It was, as God had said, as if the Angel of Peace and the Angel of Truth had never existed.

III

It came to pass that God created Mankind, and made them in His Image.

He crafted only two, but they were the beginning: the parents of Mankind. For these beings, called Man and Woman, the Creator of All provided an ideal habitat. Their world existed within the boundaries of Eden, and the Garden contained all they needed to make their home. God placed within each of them His Presence, His Goodness, and His capacity for love. Their souls matched the luminosity of the Angels, their forms equaled the beauty and perfection of the Archangels, and together, Man and Woman walked freely in God’s grace and love.

Having witnessed the wonders of Creation and Eden, the Angelic Hierarchy rejoiced in God’s handiwork. Lead by Lucifer’s invigorating, joyous baritone, they sang praises of the Creator’s new world, the multitude of voices resounding throughout the Cosmos. Eden enchanted them, and they began to understand His purpose in slow, steady stages. Starting with the dark, formless Void of the First Day and ending with the appearance of Man and Woman, His Plan took shape and form.

God concluded the Creation process on the Sixth Day, and decreed the Seventh Day as His day of rest, and Mankind’s day of worship.

*** *** ***

Archangel Gabriel gloried in the revelation of the mystifying ‘puzzle’ he had presented to his fellow Seraphim Archangels. Uriel grinned with gracious defeat, the first to recognize and understand the appearance of the rotating spheres. Presented by God on a celestial scale, the central sphere blazed as a fourth magnitude star, and the remaining multi-sized spheres fell in separate orbits around it.

Gabriel remained unaffected by Uriel’s astute gaze as his fellow Archangel joined him.

Uriel frowned, his tone accusing. “You did not present your puzzle in its true scale. Are you so uncertain of your acumen that you would utilize misinformation to deceive your brothers?”

“There was no misdirection on my part,” Gabriel responded, his dark eyes glowing with amusement. “I made no restrictions on the size of the object, only that it not be physically altered in any way. You could have enlarged the system to your heart’s content, and yet still not discern its purpose or position in our Father’s Plan. Admit your failure, Uriel. This time I have bested you and your Wisdom Archangels.”

“This time, yes, I will concede your point.”

Gabriel nodded thoughtfully, his victory already forgotten as he gazed down at the blue and white planet. “I note our Father is concerned primarily with the third planet. As this system was created within the Void, I am eager to learn of His Plan for it and Eden.”

*** *** ***

From the crystal river that flowed through Eden, Mihdael watched Man take dominion over his world and the creatures that dwelled within it. They were unlike anything God had ever created, and it was almost like speaking to the Creator Himself whenever he talked with them. And he talked with Man, named Adam by their Father, frequently. He found Adam’s intellect on the same level as his own.

The other being, named Eve, remained close behind Adam, always watching, listening, and learning. This being fascinated the Angel more than any other entity in Eden, for Eve represented the first, and only, of her kind: a mortal female. No angel had ever seen anything like her, and her uniqueness gained her more attention than Adam received. Mihdael caught occasional glimpses of her as the other angels and archangels milled around the beings.

An additional duty became part of the Warrior’s primary function as Defender of God and Heaven; he, along with several other warrior angels, acquired the defense of Mankind as well. Mihdael didn’t know what he was defending them from, as Man had no enemies in Eden, or in God’s Heaven. He nevertheless enjoyed his time in Eden, and took the image of God--and now Man--often.

The other angels chose to take on Mankind’s image as well. They soon discovered that both Adam and Eve preferred beings such as themselves, and it pleased God for His angels to appease Man. More detailed and refined than God’s Image, the mortal image each Angel formed for himself varied in size, color, and appearance. Yet, even in mortal form, God’s Light still surrounded His angels, and the dark nights of Eden became as day when the mortal forms of the angels’ images shone with their glowing brilliance.

The warrior learned the ways of Eden: the names and habits of the creatures within the Garden, the myriad forms of flora--flower and tree alike, and the divisions of time and seasons. He marveled at the interrelation, the balance and co-dependency of animal, plant, and mineral, and viewed with awe the unbelievable beauty created by all of it. Eden represented the ultimate creation under God’s Heaven.

Almost like the last stepping-stone to His Kingdom.

NEXT: Chap. 7 -- THE SENTINELS 11/14/08

I

Mihdael flew the length and width of Eden, never tiring of his explorations, and always making new and wonderful discoveries. The Garden nurtured the heart and soul of God, and the warrior experienced only contentment in the peaceful surroundings. All aspects of Eden overwhelmed his Angelic senses, from the simplest union of hydrogen and oxygen atoms, to the complex amino acids of life. He studied microscopic life forms, heard the playful songs of dolphins, inhaled an abundance of fragrances, and communicated with every living creature in the Garden. Even the inanimate objects--rocks, gems, soil, and mineral--gave off a rainbow array of light spectrum clearly visible to his eyes and senses. The macrocosm of the Universe lost its former allure, displaced by the microcosm of Eden.

For Mihdael, the most wondrous discovery in the Garden, aside from Adam and Eve, was composed of the simplest chemical structure: the towering waterfall that created the rivers. One-tenth the width of Eden and twice as high, the water roared over the curving, uneven ledge and plunged in shimmering curtains to strike massive boulders and riverbed in billows of mist and spray. The turbulent rapids captivated him as it raged over boulders and wound a crashing course against rocky chasm walls before expending its energy in the placid river. The major tributary belied the fury of its creation in the calm currents branching out into three separate rivers that flowed peacefully throughout Eden. Adam had not yet given it a name, and rarely ventured to explore its torrential depths.

The warrior’s first foray into the thundering deluge resulted in little more than damp wings, as his aura gave protection against Nature. Flying up the waterfall in mortal form, he dispensed with the aura almost completely, exhilarating in the constant battle against gravity. Reaching the top, he collapsed on a large slab of rock. He let his shield fall next to him, entranced by the rush and fury of the currents over the jagged boulders, gathering momentum until the solid sheet of water broke up over the rocks and crashed around the unyielding barriers, forming a white water causeway to the rivers.

The softly gusting breezes sent errant leaves over the opposing banks, and Mihdael watched as a few of the leaves fell short of the bank, and settled on the rushing waters, floating and spinning wildly as they rode the current over the falls. He looked at his shield, and then back at the spinning leaves; tentatively, he placed his shield on the water and released it. AngelFire arced around it, and it floated on the rushing currents; he flew after it, retrieving the shield before it reached the falls.

Smiling with new discovery, Mihdael flew back over the coursing currents, far enough to get a good distance from the falls. He adjusted his weight similar to what Adam’s would be, placed the shield on the water, and knelt onto the concave surface. For a moment his wings held him immobile while he got a firm grip on either edge of the shield. Then he folded his wings tightly against his back, relinquished his hold on gravity, and allowed the rushing current carry him and the shield to and over the falls.

*** *** ***
The Angel Warrior Idrael, current guardian of Eden, glanced up with alarm. There had been a noise, a sound that he had never heard in Eden or in all of Creation. It resounded throughout the Garden: long, and drawn out, increasing in volume, before tapering off suddenly. He could not discern if Angel, human, or beast produced it. Not a cry of pain or pleasure, but something close to joyful terror--if such a thing existed.

After summoning the other warriors, Idrael’s russet red wings extended to catch the air currents. His mortal image reflected Adam’s tall, slender physique; and sinewy muscles rippled beneath bronze skin as he took to the air. Dark eyes scanned the vista below him, and he steeled himself to face whatever calamity responsible for such a terrifying, inexplicable sound.

*** *** ***
“By the Six Gates of Chaos, what is going on here?!”

Mihdael, Liftheon, and Idrael exchanged somewhat guilty looks, then Mihdael stepped forward, bracing up to a thunderous Michael. “We were… that is, I was—” he broke off. He didn’t know how to explain, other than to just blurt out, “We were having fun.”

Michael blinked, totally speechless. His Second-in-Command, the second most powerful created being in the Universe, stood before him soaking wet, his hair plastered over his neck and shoulders, feathers matted and dripping, and grinning like a blasted fool. And if that were not bad enough, a half-dozen of his best Warriors cowered behind him in a similar condition. Battered, dented, and scoured shields lay on the ground; and he felt certain that none of the damage had resulted from battle practice. Their battle cloaks--what remained of them--clung to dented armor in torn strips, frayed at the edges, hanging in sodden defeat. None of the Warriors had attempted to repair the damage to their shields and clothing, which indicated to Michael that his battle-seasoned Warriors had no intention of curbing their enthusiastic impulses.

Heaven’s finest stood before him in a ragged remnant, hardly the epitome of professional soldiers. Finally, afraid he would fry the lot of them, the Archangel turned on his heel and gave a curt order. “Dismissed! Return to your duties.”

Michael lowered his head onto his hand as they all flew back to the waterfall, and Mihdael’s enthusiastic voice drifted back to him:

“This time, I am going to try it standing up!”

II

Michael looked imploringly at his brother Archangel, uncertain whether to be angry, exasperated, or amused. “What is next, Raphael? Why can he not comport himself with proper decorum? First, it was this, this star thing. How he came up with that, I have no idea. My Army has always traveled in an orderly manner throughout the Universe. Of what importance is a slight increase in speed if dignity is forfeit? Careening through the Cosmos, catapulting from one star to the next, with the minutest miscalculation resulting in disaster!”

Raphael shrugged, not at all concerned. “It is simply an alternate method of travel. It does no real harm. Have you not tried it yourself?”

The Commander of the Army gave Raphael a cold, quelling look that stated more emphatically than words that he had no time for such foolishness.

The Healer shrugged, then laughed, for he placed mental health far above physical health. “I have found it to be invigorating, as well as a challenge to my mental prowess. Let him be, Michael, he is not doing anyone any harm.” He turned his attention back to the heavily laden grape vines, while Michael continued with his one-sided viewpoint.

“No, there will be an orderly progression through the stars, thus ensuring that all will arrive safely and promptly at their destinations.” Michael nodded in agreement with his own decision. He began pacing, not seeing Raphael’s faint smile of amusement. “And now this! What possible use is riding on the rivers’ currents?” Michael’s tone and demeanor conveyed even more mortification at this discovery than he had shown about the star-bouncing. “We are creatures of flight, of instantaneous travel--riding the rivers’ currents, it serves no purpose.”

“He, as well as some of the more adventurous Warriors, seems to, well, enjoy it--”

Michael halted in mid-pace, astounded at that concept. “ ‘En-enjoy ’ ?!” He nearly sputtered, hardly able to get the word out. “Enjoy?! They are Warriors, Guardians of Eden, Defenders of God, Man, and Heaven; they cannot be distracted by such trivial and frivolous antics.”

“Michael, calm down. None of them are on duty, or have a current assignment; they are entitled to seek out all aspects of Our Father’s Universe as they see fit.” He eyed the distraught Archangel with keen insight. “It would not do you any harm to seek out the pleasantries of existence every now and then.”

Raphael shook his head, dismissed the vines, and led the way back into his sanctuary. Michael followed closely, not ready to give up on what he deemed an escalating problem.

“Such behavior is undignified, and subverts morale. A Warrior’s enjoyment comes from battle, from defeating Evil, and from praising Our Lord God. They need naught else.” He considered for a moment, and then continued thoughtfully. “I believe that the Warrior Mihdael has naught to fully engage his skills and attention. Demonic activity is at a minimum, and his duties as Second-in-Command are currently limited. His responsibility as the Captain of the First Legion is also minimal and undemanding. Perhaps he needs another outlet for this excess energy." Michael nodded shortly, mind made up. “I will speak to God about it.”

Raphael stepped aside, waving an arm toward the entry archway. "I agree."

III

I hath given thy petition careful consideration, Michael. Thou art satisfied that this will aid in Mihdael’s sense of proper, God paused, then smiled, propriety as concerns the Army?

“Yes, Father. Unlike the First Legion, which was already formed and staffed when Mihdael was given command of it, the Sentinels will be under Mihdael’s auspices from its inception. He will choose the other eleven Sentinels, and oversee all aspects of Eden's protection. It will also provide an opportunity for me to judge Mihdael’s leadership ability, as well as observe how the other warriors relate to him.

“We will both learn and benefit from this, and Eden’s defense will be assured.”

Very well. Thou hast My permission and My Blessing to allow Mihdael to proceed with the implementation of the Sentinels of Eden.

*** *** ***
“An entire unit?!? To do with as I will?”

Michael had never seen Mihdael so jubilant. The Warrior flew with exhilarated enthusiasm, executing a complex series of banks and rolls. Keeping his annoyance in check, the Archangel’s straight-line flight barely kept up with his Lt. Commander.

“Hardly a ‘unit’, Mihdael. The Sentinels will be comprised of twelve Angel Warriors. You will choose the remaining eleven warriors.”

“I am honored that you would trust me with such an important project, Commander.” He settled down to a more sedate flight pattern, and thought for a moment. He smiled broadly. “Liftheon, of course, and I will offer him the position of my Second-in-Command as well. And Idrael, Matafiel, Laviel, Kahiel, Adriael…” His voice trailed off and he looked at Michael with concern. “You do not mind if I choose your best warriors?”

“You are in complete and total command, Mihdael; the authority is yours. If I should have need of any of your Sentinels, I will send another warrior to guard in their stead. All decisions concerning the Sentinels are yours, as are the responsibilities. You will give me periodic status reports, but I will not interfere with your command.”

“I thank you, Commander; I will not disappoint you.”

They landed on a mountaintop near the waterfall. Mihdael summoned Liftheon, and the dark angel appeared immediately.

“I am here, Mihdael.” He acknowledged his superior officer, and saluted Michael. “Commander.”

“Liftheon, God has decreed that Eden will now be guarded by a group of Angel Warriors to be identified as the Sentinels of Eden. Archangel Michael has given command and authority of the Sentinels unto me.

“Including myself, there are to be twelve Sentinels. Will you, Angel Warrior Liftheon, accept the position of Sentinel of Eden, and serve as my Second-in-Command?”

“Gladly I accept both positions, Mihdael. You honor me with your trust in my abilities.”

Mihdael then summoned the remaining ten Sentinels; all accepted the title of Sentinel with fervent willingness. He assigned each warrior a post best suited to his individual nature.

Command suited Mihdael, and his leadership capabilities improved with each successive day. He tempered his decisions with empathy and humor, and rarely found reason to reprimand his warriors. A mutual respect bonded the Sentinels to their Commander, and a peaceful contentment reigned in Eden as Mihdael and the Sentinels stood guard over it.

IV

Mihdael grew to love Eden almost as much as he loved God’s Realm. No other place like it existed in the entire Universe; no other place with such a variety of life, of beauty, of perfection, and goodness. Eden provided peace and contentment for the body and soul. He savored the warmth of the sun, and reveled in the soothing caress of cool, invigorating breezes that lifted him to the perimeters of Heaven. To fly so freely, without thought or consideration for anything else, just to live for the moment. He found it intoxicating, wonderful, and…a little disquieting.

He had never known such complete freedom. Freedom limited only by the boundaries of open sky and lush gardens; freedom he wasn’t sure he deserved. Eden had been created for Man, not Angels; it was their world. Yet, none could enjoy, or utilize, the many and vast resources that Eden offered as an Angel could, as he could. While he flew, aloft in the welcoming sky, everything outside of Eden ceased to exist for him. There was only the crystal river, the fragrant garden, and the wide expanse of open, inviting sky.

Until Archangel Michael called him away from the clear, blue skies, and summoned him to the cold blackness of Space to resume his office of Warrior.

*** *** ***
Mihdael located Michael on another, distant planet, awaiting his arrival. The Archangel stood alone on a deserted plain, the harshly frigid wind whipping his cloak about his tall, muscular frame. As with most of the other angels, Michael appeared more and more often in mortal form, his aura a brilliant blue-white. And, as with all angels, the human form served to augment and intensify his physical perfection and spiritual purity. The magnificent wings, folded and angled against the wind, glinted with a golden sheen over the deep emerald, the feathers rustling slightly as the wind gusted through them. Thick, auburn hair fell over his forehead, past his shoulders; a strong, aquiline nose complemented his high, well-defined cheekbones, and his silver-gray eyes beheld the past, present, and future, reflecting the ethereal world of his existence.

A smile rarely softened the stern, angular lines of his handsome features, for levity of any kind was far from the thoughts of the Archangel that served as God’s sword arm. But Mihdael had seen the somber gaze lowered in sadness, had felt the Archangel’s sorrow and regret over the folly of his fellow angels, and the less fortunate of God’s creations that he had been ordered to destroy. Always the stalwart and stoic Commander, always obedient to God’s Laws, and always protected by the undeniable aura of authority attesting that he was the all-powerful Archangel in God’s Realm.

***
Michael watched as the warrior angel alighted, assuming the form of Man in deference to his Commander. The Archangel shook his head slightly. Their mortal forms were only a semblance of their souls, their spirits; form was dictated, but color was subjective, therefore chosen--and Mihdael’s chosen form indicated where his sentiments lay.

After centuries of manifesting in monochromic gold, and experiencing all that the Universe had to offer, the creation of Eden had obviously made the strongest impact on him. The Warrior’s hair and armor shone with the dark golden hues of Eden’s Sun, and the powerful while wings glowed with a pale azure hue. His eyes reflected the deep blue of Eden’s crystal river, and his battle cloak shimmered with the brilliant blues and whites of Eden’s sky. Even when away from the home of Man, he carried it with him.

Michael did not think the fair colors were suitable for a warrior, but he kept his own counsel. Instead, he indicated the crackling arcs of energy in the purplish blue sky above them, as Mihdael alighted before him and stood at attention.

“As you can see, the forces separating the dimensional planes are weakening, soon to form a Portal between the two worlds. This is one of three disturbances on this planet caused by the machinations of demonic activity. Warrior Angel Balantrel and three other soldiers are at the first one, I will see to the second one, and this one, the third, is your responsibility. If you need assistance, call upon as many warriors as you may require. Repel the invaders and seal the Portal, then report back to me."

Michael’s gaze seemed to look beyond the Portal, and Mihdael hesitated, intending to ask what it was that he saw so clearly, when the Archangel’s sharp tone brought him back to the matter at hand.

"Move, Warrior. This is not Eden. You are required to do more than lie by a quiet river, or fly in peaceful skies!"

Then, he vanished, before Mihdael could respond. He did not understand Michael’s ill humor, but had no time to consider it. The energy field increased in size, clouds forming in the center of the brilliant arcs. It had, in fact, expanded over too wide an area for one angel to deal with competently. He considered for a moment, and then decided on the warriors Laviel and Kahiel.

They were as identical as angels could be: Dark eyes, dark hair, and dark skin; their armor gleamed a deep grey, their wings a glistening blue-black. Slightly taller than Mihdael, and heavier built with broad, muscular shoulders and arms, Mihdael could never get the better of either during a wrestling match, and he knew well the extent of their strength and fortitude. He always called upon them when the situation required both brute strength and intellect.

They answered his summons immediately and Kahiel, the more verbal of the two, looked at him curiously. “You summoned us, Mihdael?”

The Warrior nodded toward the widening gap in the sky. “Demons are attempting ingress into our dimension. Take up flanking positions and have your longbows drawn and ready. If I am unable to close the Portal in time, you are to prevent them from crossing over.”

Mihdael flew into the center of the disturbance, just as a thunderous explosion of energy tore open the Portal and sent the Warrior reeling past his bowmen. In the brief space of time that it took for Mihdael to recover his balance and orientation, a densely packed flurry of leathery wings swarmed through the Portal. The Warrior quickly cast a latticework of glowing AngelFire over the doorway, preventing any further demons from coming through. That left only the small contingent, and he glanced back as volley after volley of orange-red energy arrows cut through the first few ranks of demons.

As the evil spirits disintegrated before the dual defense, the remaining demons scattered, the long, narrow bat-like wings beating the chill atmosphere furiously.

With shrieks and hissing growls, the demons fanned out over a wider area. Kahiel and Laviel swept around and under the demons in an arc that brought them on either side of the horde. Their energy arrows flew straight and true, and their dark, powerful wings easily outmaneuvered the green bolts and rays the demons hurled at them.

Mihdael backed off, letting his Warriors have free rein. He sensed something amiss. These minor demons, as fearsome and strong as they were, could not have blasted the Portal open. There had to be another, more powerful force at work; there had to be a leader.

Mihdael scanned the area, but found only minions. He paused on the fringes of the battle, and noticed a faintly glowing red star glimmering between two larger, yellow stars.

A red dwarf that had not been there before the portal had exploded open.

Mihdael zeroed in on the wavelengths, which were in variance with a red dwarf or a red star, and found within its center, the demon leader--Zherhon.

The Warrior sent a golden net of AngelFire toward the demon leader, and the white-gold energy field surrounded the demon without touching him. “Hold, Zherhon, stay thy course and stand to!” He reverted to the archaic pattern, as most demons were very old and set in their ways. The Warrior wanted to be certain the demon understood, and would not claim ignorance as a reason to continue its course of action.

Zherhon turned to face him, the three rows of bulbous eyes glinting red and yellow; enormous wings, curved and flat, billowed in the magnetic fields like scarlet sails. “Warrior of God,” the creature spoke with a spiked voice, a faint reverb following the telepathic words. “Thou hast decimated my minions; thou hast barred further egress and my own escape. As I bear no arms or malice toward thee and thy kind, doest thou now seek mine own destruction?”

“Thine actions belie thy words, demon. With thy minions defeated, thou hast no one to do thy biding. Return thou now to thine own dimension, Zherhon, and thou wilt be allowed safe passage.”

“By whose authority, Warrior? Well knowest I of The Archangel’s hatred of my kind. Shouldst I believe one of Michael’s minions?”

“I am neither minion nor Michael’s sword. I have the authority to guarantee thy safety, if thou chooses to return. If not, then stand prepared to do battle.”

“I shalt test the veracity of thy words, Warrior. I place myself under thine auspices, to return me to my home.”

*** *** ***
Mihdael returned to the surface of the unnamed planet after returning Zherhon to his own dimension. Archangel Michael appeared with a bright flash of white Light before Mihdael sent his report. The warrior knew before turning to face his Commander that the Archangel would not be pleased with either his action, or his decision.

Michael stood with arms crossed and manner rigid. “Did we not discuss this earlier? Why did you not destroy him?”

“There was no need. Once neutralized, returning him to his own dimension was sufficient.”

“Such was not your decision.”

“I made it my decision,” Mihdael answered with more irritation than intended. Calming his tone, he added, “Zherhon surrendered to me, and with his minions destroyed I did not see him as a viable threat. I could not deny him mercy.”

“Mercy he does not deserve.” Michael acknowledged the return of the other Warriors, and they watched and listened as their Commander continued. “You have disobeyed a direct order concerning the enemy’s destruction. You are relieved of duty until further notice.

“Dismissed.”

NEXT: CHAP. 8 -- "GOD'S DECREE" 11/21/08

I

Only a short period of time elapsed before Michael returned Mihdael to active duty and assigned him to resume command of the Sentinels. Mihdael had just traversed the last light year to Eden when God’s declaration reached him.

Mihdael halted just short of his destination, the words resonating throughout the vast emptiness of Space.

Know ye now, Angels and Archangels, that from this moment on, Mankind will have dominion over all Creation. Mankind is destined for Heaven, and will rule My Realm. The Heavenly Host will bow to them as they bow to Me; will serve them as they serve Me.

So shall it be.

The words faded, and Mihdael appeared instantly above Eden’s Garden. Several angels, from all Choirs--from the multi-winged Seraphim and Cherubim to the single-winged Angels--gathered in curious groups opposite Adam and Eve. Except for one: a six-winged Seraph who stood alone before the mortals.

Mihdael alighted next to him, stood at his side as he always did. The murmurs and confusion in the rows of angels suddenly fell silent as the brilliantly glowing Seraph took one step toward Adam, paused, and then…knelt.

The silver cloak cascaded to the ground; the powerful wings, inner pair folded against his back, spread over the grassy earth covering over twelve feet on either side of the kneeling Archangel. Large hands removed the silver helm, and his gaze cast down as he spoke, "My Lord Adam, I, Michael, Archangel and protector of God and Heaven, now acknowledge you as I acknowledge God. By His Words, I honor and serve you. As long as God’s Grace covers you, I vow my protection, service, and obedience to you.

"My Lord Adam and Lady Eve, I am yours to command, as our most Holy Father and God has decreed."

"You honor my mate and me, Archangel. I accept your vow of loyalty and service." Adam’s dark gaze rose to survey the still-standing angels. "Will the others follow your lead, Archangel? Or do you act alone in acceptance of God’s Will?"

Mihdael knelt at Michael’s right side, just behind him. He sensed dissention in the group behind them, as some of the Archangels hesitated, surprised at Michael’s actions and words; and then they reluctantly knelt, a grudging acceptance of Michael’s example. The resistance to obey God’s decree troubled Mihdael, but he made no comment or acknowledgement.

As for himself, he would serve Mankind, and defend them, as God had so ordered.

II

From the upper portico of his aerie, Lucifer brooded over the golden city of Heaven.

Their Father, their Creator, occupied the Throne of Heaven less and less; Eden absorbed all of His attention and Grace. Most of the Archangels of His Presence absented themselves from Heaven as well, doting on creatures more suited for pets than masters.

He consciously unclenched his fists, and quelled the building anger. Long had he been acknowledged as God’s favored Archangel, long had he served in God’s Light and image, and long had he believed his destiny to be as great as God’s. His power, intellect, and abilities ranked second only to God; no other Archangel or Host equaled him on any level, much less surpassed him. He expected his Ascension to be no less than complete stewardship over the Cosmos, leaving God free to create to His heart’s content. An Archangel of his status and acumen could only advance upward, not down. God’s Decree for the Heavenly Host to serve lesser beings--lesser creations--burned coldly through him, incinerating compassion and forgiveness, leaving only jealousy and pride.

“Lord God, why have You done this?” He spoke only to himself, not sending his thoughts or words to God’s ear. “Why have You placed this barrier between Yourself and Your Sons? Are we not worthy of You and Your Realm?” He wanted to work through this situation on his own, and not have to sift through allegorical platitudes to find the truth concealed in them. “ Are we no longer worthy in Your Sight?”

He lifted his gaze to the distant Temple. “Am I no longer worthy?”

Allowing Mankind to rule over Eden was one thing, but to grant Mankind rule over angels was quite a different matter. Lucifer MorningStar, the Light-Bringer, would not subjugate himself to a lesser being; a being not even born of the Essence of God, but of the filthy clay of a created planet. “Is not my Light as great as Yours? Yet, You bow not to Man.”

Lucifer hardly glanced up as Mihdael’s golden aura appeared at the main foyer. The Warrior crossed through the entryway with the ease of familiarity and friendship, not needing an invitation to enter Lucifer’s aerie. “Lucifer! Are you here?”

“North portico.” The MorningStar’s subdued voice reached him, and Mihdael flew through the open latticework framing of platinum and gold.

“I waited for you at the appointed place, but you did not appear,” Mihdael spoke before his feet touched the pale blue diamond tiles. Concern lined his features, displacing the usual affability in his eyes. “Is something troubling you?”

Lucifer’s shadowed gaze returned to the distant spires and domes glimmering against Heaven’s firmament. “Forgive my oversight, Mihdael; I have been preoccupied of late. Many things trouble me.”

“If I can be of any aid, you need only to ask.”

“I would like your opinion on a theory. A theory composed of questions. Who is the highest being amongst us?”

“God, of course; no one is higher than He.”

“And after God? Who is second to Him?”

“Uriel was the first created being. However, you are our Father’s favored archangel. So I would say that Uriel is second to God as the first created angel, and you are second to God by His own choice.”

“Very tactful, Warrior; you are the diplomat as well as a soldier. But even so, the order of things has always been from the highest to the lowest, has it not?”

“It has been so.”

“Then does it make sense to you that a higher creation should serve a lower creation?”

“What I think does not matter, Lucifer. I obey God’s commands.”

“But if given a choice between serving the higher being of God or the lesser being of Man, which would you choose?”

“If given the choice, I would choose God above all others.”

Lucifer nodded absently, then continued. “Does Michael know you are here?”

“He knows I am in Heaven. He does not know my exact location.”

“I thought Michael knew the exact location of all his Warriors.”

“Only in a general way. He does not demand constant, detailed reports of our whereabouts, or our actions.”

“I was not aware of that. I had always thought Michael to be as Our Father: All-Knowing and All-Seeing.”

“Not always.”

Lucifer’s majestic wings extended, and he cast forward into the steady breeze. Mihdael followed, and they flew a leisurely course toward the House of God. Landing together in the ornate courtyard, Lucifer led the way up the marble steps and into the entry hall. Throughout the great Temple, the subliminal songs of praise and worship flowed eternally. The scents of unnamed flowers and spices tinged the air with a pleasant, soothing fragrance, and a feeling of warmth and well-being welcomed all who entered the House of God.

Lucifer nodded to the higher Choirs of Thrones, Cherubim, and Seraphim as he and Mihdael swept silently from the entryway to the outer chamber. Cherubim sentinels opened the great golden doors at Lucifer’s approach, and the MorningStar walked with accustomed ease into the Throne Room--empty save for the Cherubim Choir.

Ascending the seven gold steps to the Throne, Lucifer paused next to it, resting a hand on the gold and silver arm. “Have you ever wondered, Mihdael, how it would feel to be raised above all, to the level of the Most High? To look down and see all that is, and was, and will be?”

Mihdael hesitated at the lower steps, head bowed in reverence to the Most High. “I am only a Warrior; such things are beyond my comprehension.”

From Lucifer’s viewpoint, Mihdael bowed not to the empty Throne, but to Lucifer, the Light-Bringer and MorningStar. “You would not desert me, would you, Mihdael?”

“We are in God’s Service. How could I desert you?”

Mihdael glanced up, his attention caught by the glowing aura of an arriving Archangel. He stepped back from the Throne, and then stood at respectful attention as Michael’s great emerald wings swept him into the vast chamber. The Commander of Heaven’s Army advanced to the Throne, then halted.

Lucifer stood before the Throne, contemplating his next action. He turned slowly, his gaze settling on Michael. The MorningStar smiled, waved his hand in a sweeping gesture to include the entire chamber. “Welcome, Michael. Have you come into my presence seeking an audience? Or is it our Father’s attention you desire?”

“As long as you know this is our Father’s House, and no other’s, Lucifer. Why are you here, when our Father is not?”

The Light-Bringer laughed without humor. “My place has always been here, as it has been for you. Does not the Throne of Heaven welcome all?”

“Welcome, yes; abandon, no. Why are you here?”

“I had thought to ask our Father some difficult questions. He, however, deemed it more necessary to attend to Eden than His Throne--or His Favored Archangel. His priorities have shifted, Michael; the Heavenly Host is no longer His prime concern and interest. It seems, my brother,” Lucifer’s gaze studied the archangel Commander as he descended the golden steps, “that we have been displaced.”

With that, Lucifer’s wings carried him aloft, and to the uppermost regions of the Throne Room. He hovered, watching Mihdael and Michael with casual interest.

Mihdael’s wings extended, but Michael halted him as he started to leave. The silvery eyes darkened with disquiet. “Do you agree with Lucifer, Mihdael?”

The Warrior paused, then returned his Commander’s solemn gaze. “I understand him.”

Mihdael left the Throne Room, and Lucifer took note of Michael's troubled features. Smiling crookedly to himself, the Light-Bringer left Michael to his thoughts.

III

The Ha-Satan, as the Chief of the Seraphim, resided in an isolated, enclosed aerie independent of a supporting tower. It blended into the clouds, the curved walls and ceiling formed of opalescent Light in shifting, transparent hues of cool flames. The rambling, domed structure drifted with the cloudbank, a fog of silver mist forming the floor, as the ever present winds carried the clouds around the great circumference of Heaven.

Jagged streaks of light cut through the surrounding mist in flashes of red and gold, backlighting the swirling clouds in a fiery glow. The resulting pinwheels of energy discharges gave Lucifer pause as he assessed the Ha-Satan’s current disposition . He had answered the Ha-Satan’s summons quickly, sensing the ire and displeasure; he had not, however, expected a visual display.

Lucifer halted near the solid wall turned away from God’s House. “I am here in answer to your summons.”

The reply came quick, sharp, and cold. “Enter.”

Lucifer appeared within the aerie, and moved easily through the shimmering curtains of light to the central area. Few Archangels--and no Angels--were invited to the Ha-Satan’s aerie. In his entire existence, he had visited only twice.

The MorningStar settled on an opulent lounge, perversely enjoying the Ha-Satan’s expression of dismay at his appearance.

“Truly, Light-Bringer, would you not prefer the manifestation of your name rather than the façade of clay?”

“I find this form suits me well; I am, in a way, a reflection of our Father. “

A sensation of derision reached him, and the Ha-Satan spoke with disdain. “Like Michael?”

“I am not a question; I am a statement. I need no confirmation of what I am.”

The Chief of the Seraphim’s aura emitted blinding rays. “Perhaps you do. Perhaps all of us need that confirmation.” The scorn turned to bitterness, “It has happened, Lucifer; He has commanded even me to serve Man. I will not bow to Man; I will not bow to her.”

At the rebellious tone, Lucifer sat up, and raised a calming hand. “Anger leads to errors. We need guile and intellect, above that of Man.”

“This Decree is insulting; I will not suffer it.” The aura calmed somewhat, but still flickered. The scarlet radiance approached Lucifer, and the voice became a silky undertone. “ I know there are others who feel the same as I. Will you stand with me, and gather the other dissenting Angels and Archangels to me?”

Aware of the Ha-Satan’s real question, Lucifer sought the purpose behind it. “I do not care for God’s decree, yet I am highly placed. I have power and prestige. To refuse, to rebel, would cost me all I have. What do you offer that is greater than that which God has already given me?"

The Ha-Satan gave a short laugh, and the rays darkened to crimson. "Think not that I am unaware of your ambitions, MorningStar. I have seen you coveting the Golden Throne when our Creator is not in attendance. You see yourself as Ultimate Ruler, above the stars themselves, above God Himself."

The tone became persuasive, a sense of camaraderie flowing over him. “One such as you could never bend his knee to mortals. I offer you instead rule over them, and any other of God’s creations that appeal to you. I offer you the freedom to be the god you think yourself to be; I offer you worlds and worship without end. I will not be above you, but next to you. I will place no restrictions upon you. The Throne of Heaven you may have, for it never held any interest for me. My desires lie elsewhere. With the support of the powerful and influential Archangels we can petition God to repeal this decree of servitude, for the worlds revolve around the Sun, and not the reverse. Will you agree to my terms?"

Lucifer considered carefully before answering. “A petition would need a large number of Angels supporting it, and there is no guarantee it would be granted. A rejected petition would not cost us our place in Heaven, but would leave us as we are now. Are you willing to force the issue, if it should come to that?”

“Yes, if necessary.” The rays shifted to purple, then flared and spiked, evidence of the Ha-Satan’s fervor. “Our Father would not turn away the majority of Heaven, such would not be to His best interests.”

Lucifer rose, walked a few steps away, then turned to face his co-conspirator. “Then I will give you the support you need, but you must be aware that there will be opposition to our plan to unseat Man from his position of authority.”

“I would expect no less. Any who oppose us will be dealt with whatever means necessary to achieve our goal. And,” the Ha-Satan’s voice took on a calculating, measured tone, “we must be in a position to take power immediately in the event our petition is rejected. If Michael sides with Man, as he has thus far, our petition will be rejected. We must prove that we feel as strongly about our viewpoint as they feel about theirs, and that our rank should be respected.” Brilliant flashes and pulses accented the last words.

Lucifer nodded thoughtfully. "Archangels Uriel, Gabriel, Michael--and probably Raphael--will never be in accordance with us. Of them, Michael is the most dangerous, for he commands the Army. He must be dealt with first--" A sudden realization swept over him then; words from long ago, power given to an Angel that no other created being in the Universe possessed. Lucifer smiled, knowing that he held the key to their success. "I have one in mind who will serve us well, and will command the Celestial Army as we wish."

The Ha-Satan’s aura glowed and ebbed, gradually taking on the calmer, but determined scarlet hue once more. "Then begin. Find those who will side with us and bring them together. Do so secretly, and pledge all to secrecy. Pledge them also to us only, and heretofore forsake God and His Angels; bind their souls to me.

"When you have enough, then take Archangel Michael. Only the Sword of the Archangel can destroy another angel, but without it, he is simply an Archangel, and no threat to me. If he cannot be turned to our cause, then do what you wish with him. Appoint his successor, and bind the Army to him; then bind his soul to us. I do not know if Michael can be destroyed; I will leave that to you. I know he can be banished and imprisoned for a period of time. Either way will accomplish our purpose: removing our only serious threat.

"Then, then our Father will see the extent of true devotion."

NEXT: CHAP. 9 – THE CHALLENGE 11/28/08

Click on Page 4 below...