Hope's Light (Chapter 2 of 35)

by Erisian

Book 6

 

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

Into The Light

Hope you enjoy!

 

Chapter Two - Paintings

 

Ever since that moment of radical transformation (or resurrection, if one prefers) back at the start of all the madness - when my name went from Justin to Jordan and personal pronouns flipped on their heads - I’ve had occasion to journey to a scattering of spiritual places. Planes of existence, dreams, realms - call them what you will - they all had a certain commonality. They were formed around an inner core, a nugget of desire or purpose which stabilized the whole and resonated throughout. Some were tied to entire stories sung forth in glorious splendor, others built on specific concrete principles or even emotional states. The more coherent the core, the more cohesive the realm - and all the souls and spirits resonating in sync with that pattern locked-in the solidity even further. Their presence and observations made things more ‘real’ within that domain.

I’ve tasted, touched, ripped, reinforced, and even created such places anew. The planes of Hell were no exception in their properties, and while I’d only visited two of the many available, for various (and desperate!) reasons I’d needed to delve deep into the structures of both to fight against a Chaos-corrupted agent attempting to shred them into incoherent pieces.

The realm the city of Dis sat upon had been forged from an archangel’s Purpose, one emphasizing strength as the underlying fundament to survival along with a need to crush all discovered weakness. That the said archangel had fallen from grace and rebelled against the Throne diminished not the potency of his realm.

Sheer willpower and the refusal to yield was its key, and I had no need to bypass the lock.

As the multicolored swirls of destructive energy slammed their way across the room, twin wings of crystalline brilliance flared from my back - and into the realm’s true inner physics they poured determination and intent.

When the short and armored devil finally shouted for his team of demons to cease fire, I stood within the fiery wreckage of cabinets blown to smithereens, contents exploded out in all directions and burning with flames of crimson, azure, and even this disturbingly dark green.

Whereas I remained at the center of the wreckage untouched, t-shirt intact just as gleaming white with its front picture of a grey stone doorway decorated with the Kabbalah’s Tree of Life, as used in an old favorite anime show. What can I say, my subconscious sometimes manifests amusing clothing. Oh, there were also these elegant bracelets gleaming as bright gold upon wrists.

Though those weren’t mine to manifest.

Lowering the blaster, Krux cursed under a breath. “Well, shit.”

Making a show of flicking nonexistent dust off a shoulder, I pulled the spread wings in - yet kept them manifest so their shine could continue illuminating the mess the soldiers had made. “You done?”

The devil’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah.”

The much taller and wider demon standing at Krux’s side raised a helmet’s visor, revealing shocked yellow eyes. “Sir, she’s an angel!”

“Way to state the obvious, Corporal Dumbass. Thank you ever so much.” Krux’s disgust dripped from every word. “Everyone clear the fuck out. And keep your mouths shut, this whole operation’s classification just hit top rung. Radio silence. Got it?” When no one responded, he had to shout again. “Move!”

Snapping salutes, the team backpedaled out the door.

While they went I studied their leader. As he fished a cigar from one of the many utility pockets adorning a badged vest, I noticed a difference from our last encounter and commented. “You’re sporting a Citadel emblem. There’s no mistaking that fortress logo. Thought you were with overall Realm Security?”

Bending over one of the small fires (he didn’t have far to bend), he lit the cigar then studied me in return. “And you should be dead.”

“Sorry to disappoint. Well actually, no. I’m not.”

“How?”

“How what?”

He added more smoke to the haze already billowing from the scattered fires. “Darn near everyone on the Rock witnessed someone looking a lot like you getting yanked into the Abyss. Those that weren’t too busy kissing their own butts goodbye, anyway.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yeah, that. No one survives that ooze - which means it wasn’t you that got pulled in. Unless…” Dark eyes narrowed.

“Unless what?”

“You joined the Chaos between and became an Archon.”

“Is that why you opened fire?”

The devil didn’t answer.

Light pulsed through the wings. “And just how do you think Lucifer managed to escape Hell?”

“He’s the First of you feathered lot. Maybe the prison’s seal doesn’t apply to his exalted ass and let him through.”

I shook my head. “Far as I know it does. But no, I took the same path out he did and got to Earth, though not exactly by choice. Remember my lineage - somehow it was possible.”

Krux grimaced. “So it really was you everyone saw over the Rock. Six wings and all, a full fucking Seraph.”

“I’d show you the other pairs, but I’d rather not shake the entire realm.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Dang. Probably smart; it’s too much a disaster all on its own.” He considered, and the pointed jaw tensed then released. Flicking the burning tip of the cigar at the corpse on the floor and then to the glowing stone in my hand, he asked, “Friend of yours?”

I held it tighter. “Never had the chance to be. He the target of your hunt?”

“Not him. His boss.”

“Well this guy took himself out rather than be captured.”

“They do that.”

“They?”

He puffed on the cigar and stayed silent.

Dammit. Alright, if he didn’t want to share I’d have to take a different tack. “You know, Krux, the way I figure it - you owe me. I saved your Citadel. Not to mention all the Sarim that were present.”

“A lot has happened since that incident.”

“Then fill me in.”

“You escaped this piss-hole of an oubliette. Why the fuck would you come back?”

“A bunch of reasons. I might even tell you if you’ll help me.”

The surprise was short lived, as natural suspicion quickly returned. “Help you with what?”

“Tasks which if not carefully handled could threaten the power balance you fretted about the last time we played ‘show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.’”

“Shit, girl. The city is already at war with itself. You saying it could be worse?”

“I haven’t sensed Bene-Elohim fighting directly. Just the occasional local adjustments.”

“They haven’t dared. Higher-ups forbid it, and they’re forsworn from full killing each other in any case.”

I couldn’t help it and chuckled. “As if that wasn’t forbidden in Heaven when they all rebelled?”

He didn’t laugh along with me, instead he just stared. “You serious about the power balance? If you’ve really gone full Seraph, your being here could seriously fuck it up.”

“I know. Hence the ‘carefully handled’ part.”

“And you running into me was what, coincidence?”

“Likely as random as our last meeting was.”

Ages of pain and sorrow wrinkled the skin besides the devil’s eyes, only to solidify with hard resolution. “We shouldn’t discuss details. Not here. As warded as it is, we haven’t secured this place ourselves.”

“That just means I trust it more than any place you’d lead me to.”

He grunted. “From a paranoid point of view, that’s a hard point to argue.”

“Yep. Hey, even without the angels going at it directly, how bad is the fighting in the city? I got a good view on the way in: entire towers have collapsed, but a lot of the demolition looks old.”

“Factions continually duke it out. None are strong enough to wipe out another and not end up too weak to fight off a third. So it’s a lot of limited strikes on tactical targets, or stronger pushes with temporary alliances - and the usual backstabbings after. Ground quakes did the rest.”

“Ground quakes?”

“Realm ain’t entirely stable. Hence you’d better be cautious-like.”

Erk. That didn’t sound good. “Wait, tactical targets? Like this hospital? That’s messed up.”

“Nah, that’s pragmatic. In Hell, punches don’t get pulled once the bell rings.”

I pointed to the patch on his reinforced vest. “And the Citadel? What side are you pulling for?”

“None. We’re sticking to neutrality.”

Okay, that fit. “You joined them to avoid the direct fighting.”

“I ain’t stupid. The generals of Realm Security all got recruited by different Sarim via their Dukes. The whole org fragmented into fuck all, each piece sucked into a different military. Became instant frontline troops.”

“So why would you care about some dude digging through hospital records?” I held up the soul.

He inhaled deeply from the cigar then blew out a perfect oval of smoke. “Risk assessment.”

“You’re shitting me. This underpowered little soul is a threat?”

“Him specifically? Pfft. But he may have intel we’re after.” He flicked ash to the side in disgust. “Not that we can retrieve it now.”

“Because he took himself out? Figured you’d just feed the stone to a demon and suck the memories out directly.”

“Don’t work on these assholes.”

“Huh. That’s actually impressive.”

“True fanaticism. Demon eats that, they get infected. Results ain’t pretty.”

Now that…that was interesting. I thought of Maddalena, the strega witch who had kept her mind intact for thousands of Hell-years while stuck inside the belly of a particularly nasty demon. While he’d used her abilities to heal himself, she’d given that willingly to try and hold to the strictures of her own faith. Maybe he’d decided a full absorption of her was too dangerous to attempt.

He hadn’t been stupid either. Well, except for agreeing to fight me - that decision proved to be simply suicidal.

The devil raised a bony eyebrow. “Feel like telling what you’re doing back here at this hospital? And how it may affect your feathered brethren? Hard for me to help out without information.”

I grinned. “Nope, we’ll need to dance a bit longer first. And even if you somehow don’t buy in on owing me for kicking the ass of Azazel’s puppet back at the Citadel, you’ve got a newer debt to pay.”

“How the fuck you figure that?” Dark skin crinkled a scowl.

“Seriously? You just tried to kill me. Unprovoked.” Spreading feathers, I let their burning intensity rise. “And so far I haven’t crushed you like a grape in return for such an insult.”

“Heh. I’d make a real sour vintage.” The little guy was brave, I’d give him that. He faced the blazing floodlights without showing an ounce of fear, even as the power pulled in by the wings reached levels enough to take out not just this room but the entire floor. “Fine, fuck it. What do you want?”

“The Lilim’s embassy in the city. Where is it?”

“That place?” He paused while beady eyes reflected fresh calculations along with the blazingly bright shine. “I heard its tower got hit awhile back.”

“Any of the people still there?”

“Unlikely. But sure, I’ll take you to it so we can both find out.”

My smile filled with not-entirely-sincere warmth as I let the brightness fade out. Not completely, mind you, but enough. “Great. Shall we?”

“Yeah, just gotta take care of something as we go. C’mon.”

Gesturing with the cigar towards the door, he then chomped down upon it at the side of his mouth and stepped through. Following behind, we marched down the corridor towards the ‘T’ at the end where his squad had formed up in defensive positions alongside the walls.

Tsáyidiel’s voice filled my mind. “My Queen, do you trust this devil?”

“About as far as I can toss him.”

“With his wings and diminutive stature, that could be fairly far.”

I barely suppressed an audible laugh at the conjured mental image, though mind-to-mind I chortled. “Ha! But seriously, we’ll probably take off in a flying vehicle. Stay close and keep hidden.”

“As my Queen wishes.”

Reaching his men, Krux stopped next to the guy kneeling at the rear having taken aim towards the passage’s entrance. “Corporal Dumbass.”

“Sir?” The demon turned attention away from the gun’s sight and found himself looking right into the metal pickle-sized barrel of Krux’s.

Krux pulled the trigger, and with a loud pulse the back of the corporal’s helmet exploded its contents across the wall.

Whereas I’d jumped back, flared wings, and had even summoned crimson flames from Camael’s bracers in sudden alarm, the rest of Krux’s crew hadn’t even flinched.

Jesus, they’d been expecting it.

“Halphas!” Krux called out. “Grab his stones. Everyone else, prep the path to the landing zone. We’re out.”

As one they shouted, “Sir, yes sir!” Pairs of soldiers shimmered into translucence and began moving in careful coordination around the corner.

Halphas, a demon whose helmet elongated to cover a head shaped like a stork, didn’t hesitate. Producing a dagger, he immediately began slicing off the corporal’s armor to get at the flesh underneath.

Dimming wings and dismissing their flames, I pointed to the corpse soaking the carpet. “There’s two in the chest besides the heart, one in the right thigh, and another hidden in the left heel.”

Krux extinguished the cigar by smothering it against the back of his armored glove, but still watched close my expression.

I asked the ‘obvious’ question. “Security risk?”

“Citadel politics.”

“You gonna take heat for it?”

“The dumbshit let the guy’s partner squawk on the radio. That’s enough cover for immediate purposes. Let’s move.”

We stepped past the body and left Halphas to the gruesome task. And despite the soul orb still held tightly in hand having been cleansed of blood in the fires I’d manifested, fingers still felt sticky.

Washing them clean was going to take a lot more than soap.

 

~o~O~o~

 

A little over a month. That’s how quick my time away from Hell had been. I should have counted myself lucky - most armed forces only give their soldiers a couple weeks of R&R between tours.

And so here I was, once again shoulder to shoulder with demons. At least these had bathed better than most.

Not that their stench could ever really be scrubbed off.

We’d loaded up in Krux’s Citadel drop ship - think glorified flying SWAT van, complete with official logo painted on the sides with lights and sirens. With how Tsáyidiel kept calling me his queen, due to my having forged an entire dream realm during that too-short time away, a certain drumbeat got stuck on repeat in my head. Another one rides the bus…Wait, that was the Weird Al parody version.

Yeah, okay, my mind does strange things.

Anyway, they’d wedged me in the middle of two bench rows of professional soul-swallowing killers, sitting across from Krux who didn’t look any happier than I felt about being in here. The guys flanking him were at least four times his size, though they were doing their best to give ample room out of respect for his authority. Most of the team I recognized from that last visit but not all, and it was clear from their forced stoic demeanors that my presence was weirding them out.

Good.

Keeping arms crossed as we all tried not to slide back and forth while the floating brick around us maneuvered through the sky, I broke the disciplined silence. “Hey, Krux. Where’s Major Quorg? Most here were from his team, right?”

Several glanced at each other then away.

Krux stood on the bench rather than sitting, and still was shorter than the lunks framing him. “Lost Quorg three firestorms ago.”

“I thought you said you joined the Citadel to stay out of the fighting. How’d that happen?”

“An idiot of a duke thought he could take the fortress and boost favor from his patron. The dumbshit.”

“Damn. I kinda liked Quorg.”

He shrugged.

Quiet descended again, but without windows to see out of it quickly got boring. “Where’s your ship? It gave a better view for passengers.”

“Blew up. A storm before Quorg.”

“Oh.” I thought for a moment. “Alright, I gotta ask: how long is it between storms?”

“You spent time on the Rock, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Firestorms usually hit every ten to twelve of their cycles.”

Huh. Cycles were measured by the precession of the Shroud half-covering the Spark which acted as that realm’s sun. Near as I could figure, a cycle was the equivalent of a few months. “And how many of those have hit since our interrupting the unexpected showers of the feathered folk at the Conclave?”

“Seven.”

I did the math. Approximately twenty years had passed for the folks condemned down here.

Yikes.

Leaning back against the metal wall (there was no padding on the seats in this thing), the implications of that much time for those I’d left behind sank in. Finding them could prove to be rather tricky, especially if wanting to do so without attracting too much attention from those very fallen angels I’d just mentioned. I could cheat and energetically power up to reach out to some of my friends directly no matter which realm they were on, but Tsáyidiel had warned that the more powerful princes would sense it. And they’d then be able to track both ends of the connection.

Not something I especially desired to risk at the moment, not for me and especially not for my friends.

We banked hard for what I hoped was a landing and not from evasive action. “We almost there?”

“Nah, gotta refuel first at a depot. These buckets are always thirsty.”

“Ah.” Thinking for a moment, I asked Krux one more question. “You ever get to fire off those rear-mounted missiles?”

He flashed a sharp-toothed grin. “Oh yeah. They were fucking glorious!”

Well, okay then.

 

~o~O~o~

 

After the refueling (which required Krux to disembark and enjoy throwing his authority around again), we took off once more and soon spiraled around the tips of the many towers before landing upon one’s top. Walking down the exit ramp, the massive scale of the construction hit as strong as the heated air whipping across open cheeks from the fire-stirred winds.

Something I hadn’t appreciated during my last tour was the sheer size of the buildings in the city of Dis. The speed of Krux’s ship as we had darted through traffic before must’ve been faster than I’d realized, because the towers were huge. Really ridiculously huge.

As in they were at least ten times the size of what was found in most downtowns back on Earth.

The Lilim’s Embassy formed its own complex on the peak of one of those equally-spaced black monoliths, just under the curtain of flame swallowing the sky. Made of the same obsidian stone as if extruded upward by the regolith below, a singular immense dome large enough to house a pair of mighty zeppelins sat flanked by magnificent columns holding up multi-floor square offices. And yet there was still plenty of room for the wide landing zone serving as a gigantic parking lot - a space entirely abandoned except for our own flying brick.

There was also debris scattered about from what must have been a hard-fought battle.

Office space to the left of the dome had taken serious fire. That weird onyx lava stone had been pulverized by various calibers of both energy-directed and physical shells, leaving a ring of rubble around it like an inverted moat. The dome itself was intact - except for one section sporting an open jagged gap large enough for one of our SWAT ships. The many stairs leading up to it had also been shelled, and the immense main doors had been blown entirely off the hinges - the remains of the massive mounting brackets melted from the blasts.

“Guessin’ we won’t need to knock,” Krux remarked dryly. Pointing to Halphas, he gestured and half the squad was then jogging after the stork-headed demon who had taken the lead. The rest formed up around Krux and myself, weapons out and aimed in all directions to cover our butts as we too marched forward.

Being surrounded by such military focus, my hands itched to hold a weapon. And while I could easily summon into manifestation the spear constantly pulsing against my spirit, its nature would likely have caused Krux to panic and immediately call down air strikes. Possible even nukes, if he had them.

Somehow I didn’t think the little guy would listen to any explanations regarding the weapon’s balance of holy and chaotic energies, especially as I hadn’t had the chance to study it in any detail yet myself.

So yeah, empty fingers remained empty.

While weaving around chunks of pulverized steps, I asked Krux, “So who attacked here?”

To fit in the ship I’d put my own wings away, but Krux still had his and used them to skip entire sections of damage. “Rumors said forces loyal to Dagon. Who would normally not dare, leading credence to the chatter that the alliance between Asmodeus and Lilith is toast.”

The first squad executed a diligent entering-maneuver past the open doors, while the rest of us lurked alongside the wall outside. Once they had reported things as clear, we went in. It was indeed like walking into a tremendous and empty airline hanger - at least until I looked up.

At which point I realized it was more a monumental cathedral, one that would have caused Michaelangelo’s hands and back to cramp in agonized sympathy.

The entire ceiling was painted. And between the floor’s smooth reflectiveness and the hole in the ceiling, the burning yellowish-orange of the sky’s curtain leaking through lit every panel with perfect clarity.

I exhaled in awe. “Oh wow.”

Scene after scene leapt out to the eye in brilliant color and depth. All focused on a central character whose identity I knew without needing to be told:

Lilith.

I’d seen her directly once, in a half-dream before awakening in the very hospital we’d just left. Her depiction here was however different: long raven hair flowing as to dance between night and dawn, eyes of shimmering violet that took in the light of surroundings with calculation and amusement, lifted by wings changing shade depending on mood between verdant green of untouched forest primeval to deepest blue of mysterious ocean. Drawn in by it all, I went still and let the artwork perform its magic.

 

There she stands, proud and determined, amongst siblings at the Beginning: from within Helel’s aura flashing brilliantly as an eclipsed halo around Beliel, Samael and Raphael, and more - holding them all close and safe within his Light of Lights…

 

Here she swoops with wicked spear and sword, cleaving abomination after abomination oozing from the disturbed boundary of that which Is versus that which Is Not…

 

A tree more tree-like than nature could ever achieve: knotted root and burley trunk, twisting branch and veined leaf, bursting with fruit and life while offering shade for her and her companion, both unabashedly beautiful in their nakedness. Her relishing the raw femininity of a wingless form, and her companion with features simultaneously of both sexes and therefore neither, as if the sculptor had yet to apply finishing touches…

 

The smoking wreckage of a tall chair smolders beside her, while arms fold imperiously below elegant expression flashing with disgust and refusal as two brothers argue. One spins spirals of crimson black and the other radiates overwhelming white and gold, while all around them armored angel after armored angel fall unto blood-tarnished death and bottomless despair…

 

A night-winged angel watches on as a twin version of herself darts between realms with arms outstretched, hoping to catch a bleeding star as it falls towards a gate-framed vortex. Both Liliths have cheeks streaked by sorrow, leaking from orbs of soft twilight burning still with hardened Purpose…

 

An angel of astounding beauty with hair of unspun gold and face half-hidden by purest ivory silk, watches a bed of monumental size where Lilith’s voluptuous form takes a triple-horned demon to her bosom and more. The faces of countless children blending demonic and divine surround to gaze lovingly only at their mother - and not to the fathers kneeling behind the angel whose single eye glares impotent frustration, an expression ruining what grace otherwise would touch such a face of perfection…

 

“Impressive, ain’t it?”

Krux, standing oddly close within the expanse under the dome, broke the reverie.

More of Gabriel’s memories, including touches of shared times with Lilith, swirled at the periphery of vision. But none dominating the others, instead some flowed as if but additional moments which the painter of this glorious ceiling had simply run out of the needed room to include. “Yes, it is.”

He lit another cigar, and the air filled with the scent of roasting almost-tobacco. “Just how long have you been back in Hell?” The agent’s tone was casual, but his posture’s stillness betrayed the burning depths of the need to know more.

Allowing eyes to shift away from the glory above, they instead scanned the many doors leading off to the offices beyond. His split team had taken one side each, searching room to room - the many lights of their own spirits and the souls they’d captured flickering behind the walls.

I finally looked back at the short devil. “You want to know how much trouble I may have already caused.”

A deeper inhale, with a slow smoky return. “Crosses the mind.”

“The hospital was the first stop. Only place I knew in the city, other than the fortress employing you.”

“Your arrival as accidental as your exit?”

“Nope. Rather deliberate, albeit provoked. Flew right on through the Gates.”

“You’re nuts, girl. Got a plan?”

“Working on it. You mentioned Pierre had a leader - the target you’re really after. Who exactly?”

“Following up on rumors. Word is, something new is shaking up the Pits. Sent a team to investigate, they didn’t come back.”

“The Pits?”

“Caverns under the city. Where demonspawn with more brawn than brains end up.”

“I take it that team was competent?”

He scowled around the cigar. “They were pros.”

“And Pierre’s connection - you think his people have something to do with it?”

“No. But their cult could have intel we lack. Unlike my idiot commander, I don’t send teams in blind.” He was about to say more, but the squad leaders radioed their reports to his ear’s tiny receiver. With perceptions opened up I didn’t need to wait for him to repeat their findings, but I did so anyway.

Flicking ash onto the mirrored surface of the flooring, he grunted. “This place is abandoned. No one’s here, though monitoring spells were left behind. So what now?”

I smiled while sweeping a gaze about the vast emptiness of the hanger-like room. “Now? Well, I figure I ought remember that Lilim are a lot like the Nephelim.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning that they too like to keep things hidden from regular old demonic or mortal eyes. Stay here - I’ll be back.”

Before he could respond, perceptions folded - and thereby shifted precisely where I was standing into a different space entirely - one which nevertheless shared the same room under the painted dome.

Blinking at what had changed, once again there were several guns aimed at my face.

Yep. It was one of those days.

 

 

 

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

- Erisian