Hope's Light - Chapter 22: Necessity

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Hope's Light

Chapter 22

by Erisian

Book 6

 

If you have yet to read the saga - the tale starts here:

Into The Light

Hope you enjoy!

 

Chapter Twenty-Two - Necessity

 

We kept at it, shoveling and schlepping, until each pen in turn was clean. Though at that point, we ourselves certainly weren’t.

Raguel led us over to the camp’s distillery where water pumped from the ground was boiled and condensed into more safely potable form. There he filled a waterskin and, after taking a long swallow himself, handed it over.

Gratefully I drank deep before offering it back, though he waved it off.

“I’m fine.”

“You lost a lot more sweat than I did, you know.”

He laughed. “And we both are aware that neither of us truly need it.”

“Oh. Yeah. There is that.” I considered. “The joy of refreshment is nice though, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

I took another pleasant drink of the clear and cool liquid. “You gonna finally tell me why you wanted to talk? You said you hoped I could help you. Dare to share how?”

“Need I do so?”

Pouring some of the water onto a hand, I wiped my face. “No, I suppose not.” Realizing my sleeves were equally nasty, I let the moisture dry by itself on the skin. “You want me to free your safely preserved souls.”

“You did manage an escape.”

“Through the Chaos,” I said while staring off at nothing. “Except I don’t remember exactly how.”

“Part of you must.”

“Really? I was told that my memories were part of Creation itself. But transiting Chaos was outside of that.”

“Not entirely.”

“What?”

He leaned back against the rocky wall of the distillery, letting the shepherd’s crook fall to bounce gently against a shoulder. “There are different views of the structure of things. One such describes all as of the known, the unknown, and the unknowable. And in another, what is, what could be, and what is not. But for both the purpose of existence is clear.”

My spine slipped down the wall next to him until I sat with knees up, yet slightly spread so elbows could rest on them. Yeah, it wasn’t the most lady-like of positions, deal with it. “I’ll bite: expansion. Bring more into the known from the unknown, or more into What Is from What Could Be. Unknown as potential. Something like that?”

“Yes. Though I would describe it as infinite potential. So ask yourself: if there was no Light in what Could Be, could it ever become What Is?”

“You’re going to make my head hurt.”

He smiled. “Try it this way: how does the unknown become known?”

“Uhm. It has to be perceived first and then understood?”

“Good!” The gold in his eyes sparkled again. “And how does the Source perceive?”

I blinked. “It…shines a light? Oh. Oh for fuck’s sake. And I’m just that, aren’t I? A light.”

“More specifically: a channel for the Light of Lights, but yes.”

“That only covers perception. Is that enough?”

“Considering all I have is theory, that’s a question I’d need ask you.” He paused, then added, “You made it across, not I.”

My head tapped back against the rocky wall. Not too hard, mind you. Just hard enough to try and knock thoughts into something sensible. “Wait. Cassius babbled about this once. Rabbi Kirov’s whole philosophy has lines going from the Light to both Wisdom and Understanding in their Tree of Life diagram. So the Light is connected to both intuitive knowledge and delineated.”

“Hmm. Go on.”

Boggling, I thought I saw it. “Beliel and Azrael. Wisdom and Understanding. Holy crap. Lucifer carried Beliel with him when he left Hell! And Azrael…” Stunned, I dropped into silence.

“Yes?”

Chomping at a lip, I then swallowed. “Azrael’s hand…from the Chaos, he pulled me out.” The taste of iron crossed my tongue. “But that was a fluke.”

“Was it?”

“He told me he was only reaching for his scythe. I just happened to grab him instead.”

The angel chuckled. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! Well…no? Crap!” Yep. There came the headache, and not from the repeated knocks against the wall. Still, this didn’t make total sense. “Hey, but how do the Archons do it?”

“The term ‘Archon’ describes any entity who can independently remain intact within the Chaos. Having achieved this, you are now counted among their number.”

“Yeah, I keep getting called one.”

“The nature of their existence is beyond my knowledge. But ever does our tapestry push outward, perhaps that itself creates eddies within which entities form. Ones who lash out against us to return What Is to the Possible - or to Nothingness. Their intelligences are foreign, anathemas to all things.”

“What about Alal?”

He looked towards the cavern’s ceiling. “She…is a mystery. A shard or warped reflection of the First.”

“She helped me. In Egypt.”

“But did she actually cross into Creation?”

“Well yeah…wait. No, I guess not. She was like this empty projection imposing itself through the cracks. That’s a thin distinction though, isn’t it? I mean, she gave me a hat.”

“Much can be accomplished with projections. Mortal wizards in search of greater power open the narrowest of pathways for demons to project their gathered evil beyond Hell’s Gate to accomplish much.”

“How does that work? Are those paths through the Gate or through the Chaos?”

“Neither or perhaps both. The possibility for such connections was created by a great king. By virtue of the strength of his soul he altered the fabric to allow the projections. However, a spirit’s anchor may not cross.” His eyes lowered again, and he sighed. “Even those as strong as Samael are so constrained.”

“Huh. You know, even if I can get back again, I don’t see how souls could ever survive that trip. Even my hardened armor shredded to smithereens through that stuff.”

Raguel spotted someone approaching the distillery and pulled himself away from the wall. “I believe you will discover a path.”

“Seriously??”

“I feel it is time. And I…” he paused, then quite softly said, “I still hold to faith.”

Carrying the shepherd’s staff, the Angel of Justice known to Hell as the Pilgrim walked back to his chores, nodding to Horatio in passing as he did.

The Mayor acknowledged him politely, but his stride quickly had him standing over a different goop-encrusted angel still reeling from the burden of all that faith.

“Milady? Why in the realm are you covered in…” He paused, not daring to say it.

“Shit? I think that’s the term you’re looking for.” With a groan, I got back to my feet. “I suppose it’s because sometimes the job requires wading through the stuff. But you didn’t march so quickly to find me just to insist that I shower.”

“Ahem, no. Reaper Barry has arrived, after almost running a graxh to death to get here. He requests permission to visit your prisoners.”

“The Lilim? I told them they can do whatever while here in the Spire!”

“Formalities are indeed, shall we say, awkward with the situation. A request for blessing appeared appropriate.”

“Good grief. Fine. Let’s go officially sanction the crazy Scot’s desire.”

“Very good, milady.” He inhaled and blanched. “Though maybe that bath would be a good idea first?”

I snorted. “As much as that sounds ridiculously pleasant, let’s not make them wait.” With a flick of braided hair, Light pulsed…and clothes and skin were clean once more. “C’mon, there’s more I want to discuss with Vance anyway.”

Mouth agape at the instant purifications, he recovered and led the way.

Thoughts still swirled from the discussion with Raguel as I followed. Beneath the maelstrom though, I glimpsed the start of a crazy plan.

Maybe.

But dangit, I needed a lot of questions answered first.

 

~o~O~o~

 

We made our way through the cave town again, towards the plateau where the Lilim had set up their own small camp. But spotting a large figure monopolizing an obvious open training area, I stopped. “Hey - give me a moment, will you? Wait here.”

The Mayor saw the focus of my attention and nodded. “Of course, milady.”

Passing through a gate in the fence, loose dirt turned to hard stone. Though that stone had several areas chewed up from severe and repeated impacts of steel and sorcery.

Such as from the pair of gigantic axes wielded by monstrous tentacles currently causing the air itself to whistle mightily from their swung passage.

One axe spun in its path to redirect towards me, but a single and massive moss-green eye capable of unleashing great destruction all on its own registered the target and diverted the deadly edge to clang against the stone by my side.

And a troubled armored giant knelt before me.

“Balus.”

“Commander.”

“I’m not upset, at least not with you. In truth, I owe you. More than I ever knew.”

The cyclops remained silent and I studied him, looking the giant over in full measure for the first time. As the emitted illumination washed over his mighty figure, he didn’t flinch.

“You’re not just a demon.”

“Am Fomori.”

“I know that name, but only from legends.”

“Star experiment. Breed entities. Fae, demon, human. Fomori.”

“He was trying to find a way to blend properties of a soul with his Light.”

“Fomori not worthy. Fail.”

“And so he sought out half-gods. And it was you who found my mother.”

“Mother warrior. Strong.”

“You could have crushed her easily.”

“Strength in spirit. In will. Like daughter.”

“You’re kind to say so.”

Ivory tusks split a sharp-toothed grin. “Balus not kind.”

“You are to me.”

The giant huffed. “Balus serve. Star shine.” The one eye scanned the limited training area. “Hell small.”

“Small?”

Mossy-green shifted back. “Tight focus, beam burn.”

Staring into the iris’ singular depths, I eventually nodded. “Thank you, Balus.”

The grin broadened and tentacles adjusted grips on the axes. “Spar?”

I chuckled. “I doubt the town here would survive if we were to really go at it.”

Booming laughter echoed across the cavern, and the giant stood again - helmet brushing dirt free from the top of the cavern as he did. “Commander enjoy.”

That earned a full laugh in return. “Yeah, I probably would. But I’ve got things that need doing.”

He grunted. “Duty.”

“Duty,” I agreed. “And Balus?”

The eye blinked behind the helm and waited.

“You too are worthy.”

An axe raised in proud salute. With a smile I acknowledged, then turned and went back through the gate where Horatio stood patiently. Behind us the air again whistled with the giant’s stretching warm-ups.

“All good, milady?”

“Yes, I think so. Lead on.”

He did.

 

~o~O~o~

 

“I’m tellin’ ya, the eejit buggered off!”

We all sat within the Lilim’s tent - the blue mystic-runed one, larger on the inside than out. The colors for all the rugs and pillows had been changed since I’d last seen them, now everything was this lime and lemon theme with touches of orange. I swear it was like I’d been transported to some television producer’s deranged imagination of the nineteen-seventies. With plenty of room for all the gold-embossed silver cups and platters numerous enough to feed a small army, the space even had an expansive kitchen filled with whatever a chef could desire - including a fully stocked spice cabinet, a true luxury in Hell. The Lilim’s formerly-French chef had, after a hug from me, been politely disinvited to the gathering so he couldn’t listen in. Not that Cookie would have wanted to.

Horatio however did wish to, but a runner had zipped up to us requesting his attention elsewhere on something which apparently couldn’t wait - so reluctantly he’d hurried off.

Using bright and rather comfy pillows to prop myself up, I settled on a rug with Twitch at my side, his hand continuously finding mine. Vance, wearing lilac pajamas, had reclined on a fancy gold-studded divan, with Yaria pacing behind in ninja black. Maddalena stood before a table laden with more wine bottles than she clearly thought proper for those in her care to consume, the light aqua tones of her simple dress somehow fitting with the fruit-themed colors all around.

Ruyia was also on the floor, cross-legged by the divan in pajamas darker than her father’s - and much to Barry’s distress, had avoided all attempts from the burly warrior to get closer. The big lug had scooted a wide-curved wooden chair over to her, but she’d shifted just out of reach.

Barry, taking another deep draught from his skein, gave her another wistful look.

I groaned at what he’d said. “Nick’s gone?”

The Scotsman nodded. “Aye, that be what ahm sayin’. Disappeared, poof-like - no word, nuthin’. Din’t e’en use tha front gate.”

“Great, just great.” The jerk. Dammit, I really had thought we’d been making progress too.

“Did you need the Grigori?” Yaria asked, pausing her pacing.

“He was going to help me find Camael.”

Yaria exchanged glances with her father. He asked the question. “The Regent is missing?”

“Yeah. After…” I hesitated, trying to decide exactly how much I wanted to toss Nick under a bus. “After getting a wing sliced off and slaughtering a bunch of demons, he disappeared. Asmodeus has the wing, but we’ve no idea where Camael himself is.”

Vance, still rather pale, sat up straighter. “Nathanael is also unaware?”

“Yep. And Nathanael is off with your mother, chasing after a Child of Leviathan.”

The still-missing color of the Lilim’s cheeks faded even further. “Leviathan stirs?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. But there are two spawns running amok somewhere. Beelzebub pursues the other one. A third was taken out by Asmodeus - at great cost.”

Yaria gripped the back of the velvet seat. “Father, can we aid Grandmother in this?”

Vance closed his eyes, shaking his head. “No. Such a foe is beyond us. Beyond any of us present, except for perhaps our lady here herself.”

Crossing arms, Ruyia hunched over further and shivered.

Seeing this, Barry tried to take another drink - only to find his cup empty. “What can we be doin’ then?”

“Take care of each other.” I smiled at him, even while squeezing Twitch’s hand. “But there are a few specifically in need of our help.” Saying that, I looked back at Vance.

He raised a shaved eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Edgar, Nadia, and Carlos. They were yours, left behind at Lilith’s embassy.”

Yaria released the divan. “They remain intact?”

“Last I saw. But they’re stuck in that phased warehouse space. And as Nadia let me mark her, she’s mine.” I didn’t need to expand on the responsibilities inherent with that.

Ruyia blinked deeply brown eyes in puzzlement. “You didn’t take her with you?”

“It did not seem safe. Citadel agents were outside; I’d just arrived with them.”

Turning his head, Vance spat. “Citadel!”

Interesting. “Sounds like there’s a story there. Care to share with the class?” Lips may have been smiling, but my eyes weren’t. It really wasn’t a request.

Touching her father’s shoulder, Yaria answered for him. “Citadel forces chased us across Dis, even across battle lines. We thought…we thought they’d be able to penetrate Mother’s phasings. We believed those three already captured and disposed of.”

Wait, what? “Why’d they chase…oh. Beliel’s Tears. They figured out your operation?”

Vance pursed his lips, and ring-clad fingers clearly wanted to twirl a mustache no longer there. “I underestimated their newest general. He’s quite intelligent.”

“Krux?”

“Yes, him.”

“That little shit!” Dangit, he hadn’t told me it was his crew that had cornered the Lilim in the embassy - in fact, he’d implied it was some other war faction. Crap! “Wait, you think the Citadel could get through to the phased space if they wanted?”

Yaria nodded. “They have potent sorcerers. The Majordomo himself could do it with relative ease.”

“They wouldn’t worry about Lilith’s reaction?”

“Enough of the other Sarim would support their investigation into the Tears.”

“So why hadn’t they…oh,” I said as another lightbulb went off. Not literally though. Hush. “Bait. They left the souls there all this time as bait.”

But Vance shook his head. “No, not as bait. The souls are not important.” He caught my disapproving glare, and raised a placating hand. “I mean it not like that. They were ours, but they also possess no information of real value. If the space still stands, it is there as a trap.”

“A trap?” My glare diminished, but only a little.

“Absolutely,” Vance confirmed. “Those left behind were to scuttle that side of the portal so the assault team could not follow after. But there is nothing, dear lady, to prevent us from using our side here to transition back to the embassy.”

Huh? “Wouldn’t the connection be broken?”

“Only in one direction. As long as the stones stand they may still serve as remote anchors for those who know them. If we became desperate here in the Spires, it is one place to which we could flee if we were without other choice. Citadel forces most assuredly have kept it under constant surveillance.”

“There weren’t any Citadel bugs when we arrived though.” I frowned, then cursed again. “The refueling! We stopped on the way, and when out of earshot I bet that jerk of a general ordered everyone cleared out so it’d seem abandoned when we got there. Plus anything electronic of theirs that would have given that away. Dammit!”

“As mentioned, intelligent.” Vance held out his cup, and Maddalena reluctantly refilled it.

“Okay,” I said, shoving aside how incredibly stupid I felt. The devil had even deliberately planted listeners under our table at the bar so I would think that he’d initially thought he could get away with that kind of thing. Seriously, that was entirely too clever. “You escaped from his lackeys, but how did you end up in custody on the Rock?”

Vance stared into the refreshed burgundy of the wine.

Scowling at him, Ruyia muttered, “He got greedy.”

“Daughter-”

Yaria slammed an open hand against the back of his seat. “She is right, Father! You did.”

With a wave of the cup at the opulence surrounding us, Vance shrugged. “Temperance, never one of my virtues.”

Instead of getting annoyed, Yaria grinned in amused agreement. “Nor mine. Want me to tell?”

“Please.”

Pushing off the seat’s back, Yaria paced again as she spoke. “Duke Valgor sent word he required one final score from our tunnels off from the Hole. The Rock changed after the calamity.” She gave me a not-entirely-happy stare. “Potency of the Tears has diminished, the ice around the Mace is changing. With Dis alerted, we calculated having only the chance for one more worthwhile run.”

Vance interrupted. “Mother’s standing instructions, you must understand, were to acquire and store as much as feasible. With her away, I decided we needed to take the risk.”

“Except our information gathering failed,” Yaria continued. “Valgor, that fat ambitious blob, had already betrayed us to the Ducal Council - who in turn had launched their own investigation after being contacted by the Citadel through channels. We went into the Hole, and once at the midpoint stop-off, the bastards ambushed us.”

Ruyia’s glower matched her sister’s. “Our harpy forms are too large to fly up the Hole. We had no escape.”

I waited as each Lilim relived the moment of capture - and all the pain that had followed. After a polite silence, I asked the question still bothering me. “But you don’t know why Lilith wants the Tears?”

Snorting, Yaria finally sat on the corner of the divan. “Grandmother never told us.”

“We never dared ask,” Ruyia murmured, and without looking finally reached out to touch Barry’s leg. The Scotsman (who had been drinking steadily while listening to all this) perked up immediately, but didn’t jinx the moment with anything overt.

Twitch ran a thumb across the star on my palm, causing energies to tickle. Pulling away with the start of a giggle, the sound died against the seriousness within his gaze.

I understood. “Yeah, okay,” I said to him, earning his slow nod in return.

“Milady?” Horatio asked.

I focused back on Vance. “How long would it take to prepare the one-way portal back to your embassy?”

The Lilim leader finished swallowing his latest gulp. “A few hours.”

Ruyia sat up in alarm. “You need to rest! You don’t have the energy required to-”

He cut her off. “Our hostess does. And her priestess can act as channel.” He pointed the again-empty cup at Maddalena.

The strega witch’s eyes burned with resolution’s fire. “Our newest sister is in need. I will do all in my power to help.”

Barry tilted his head. “Sister?”

I held up the glowing hand. “Nadia. Her soul bears the mark of my promise.”

“Ach,” the warrior Scot’s toothy grin split the curls framing his face. “Goon, then. And woe to any daft eejits standin’ in yer way!” He lifted his ever-refilled stein in salute then drained it dry.

And yeah, the burp that followed was just as mighty as expected.

 

 

New chapters posted every Monday and Friday! Thanks for reading...and especially for commenting!

- Erisian

 

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Comments

Sometimes the simplest answer……

D. Eden's picture

Is to act. A strong act, taken quickly, is often the best way to get to where you are looking to go.

Not to mention the fact that there are very few problem that cannot be solved by the judicious application of enough power. Superior firepower forgives a lot of evils, and even a surgeon must forgo his scalpel for a hammer at times.

Amariel is developing a better understanding not only of who and what she is, but also of how all of creation is structured. Knowledge is power, and if we have seen anything to date, it is that she is a POWER, the caps being fully intended. It is time for her to hold true to the promise she has made to those who believe in her, those that she cares about, and those that deserve to be saved.

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

Action

Erisian's picture

There's indeed a lot to be done, and the engines are prepped for launch! In fact, with what she was just gathering, all she needs is to find a proper fan. ;)

Thanks D. Eden!

For she has promises to keep . . .

Emma Anne Tate's picture

And she keeps making more of them! It’s a heavy load.

But Amariel is angelic, and so she is purpose. She is promise. It is the essence of her nature.

Emma

Essence

Erisian's picture

Her Word burns with purpose, and promises new and also old. With influence on her acts both overt and subtle.

Thanks Emma!!

I wonder if Krux is

I wonder if Krux is intelligent enough to understand her Promise when she warns him about how close he's coming to being an enemy - one who is more powerful than any of the people he's claiming to serve.

By the way, he's a Scot, not a Scott.


I'll get a life when it's proven and substantiated to be better than what I'm currently experiencing.

Dilemmas

Erisian's picture

Krux's chief issue is he finds himself no longer serving a Sarim, but instead an abandoned and therefore unstable realm. And Jordan is unlike any other angel he's ever dealt with, as she comes across more as a fresh soul in her interactions...at least until she doesn't. He has great experience manipulating souls, and desperate times require desperate measures.

And thanks for the catch. Thought that had been cleaned up, but either missed this one or the correction got lost between the edit copy-n-pastes cycles somehow. Fixed! :)