chaos beyond. Despite Valore’s words, the choir was my family. No matter what I might face, they needed me. If I were to die today, I would do so protecting those I love. God could ask nothing more of me; no one could.
I stepped from my home to find that Hell had come to my beloved Heaven. Angels battled angels in the roiling white skies. The air was filled with the sounds of war, the smell of charred flesh and blood. Brilliant bursts of energy illuminated the angels who fell to the ground as a rain of corpses. The fury that had overtaken me as I struck down Valore faltered in my breast. All around me were the remains of my family, the dead and dying littering the holy courtyard and filling my ears with their wails of pain and sorrow. The Choir was dying.
“Scarlett! Come to me,” a strong voice cried out from behind me.
I spun to see Duke Forcalor waving to me with his free hand, his other holding his midnight blade at the ready. The twisted spikes that adorned his reddened plate mail were covered in the dark shimmer of blood, his long white hair, wild and free of its usual binds, was streaked with crimson. He had not been spared a part in the revolt. I ran to his side as he struck down a young angel that dared to attack him. The boy died with a snarl on his lips.
There was sadness in Forcalor’s eyes as he turned to look at me. “Gabriel has set us against each other, and I fear I am the cause.” He was gracious not to mention my own bloodlines as he stared out across the plains. A tear spilled down his cheek, mixing with the claret that clung thick to it. “We are losing Heaven, child, but we must fight on.”
His words rang inside me, dark and chilling. Though the duke had been one of the first of the Fallen, cast from Heaven, Forcalor had always been a sensitive soul. Loyal to a fault to his brother, he had stood beside Lucifer as they fell to Hell, but he had never cursed the Father for what He’d done. And while a demon in the flesh, he was an angel at his core. His courage lit the fuse of my own.
“Can we not rally the loyal remains of the Choir to strike back?”
He shook his head. “Michael has taken up arms against us as well, and has apparently orchestrated the massacre of those who did not stand against my return to the Kingdom. Most of our brethren have been murdered in their sleep, our numbers a pitiful few against the tide of those who would see Gabriel take the Throne.” His words came out in a growl. “Uriel still holds Eden. It is there where we must make our stand.”
Forcalor’s gaze snapped away as a handful of warriors descended upon us. The duke stepped to meet them. “Stand aside, Scarlett. I could not bear the scorn of your mother’s spirit should these heretics harm you.” He dropped the first of the rebels before he finished speaking. The second fell but an instant later, a reddened geyser spewing up from where his head had only just been.
Valore’s blood still staining my hands, his treason fresh in my mind, I could not bring myself to hold back. Those who would slay the innocent in their sleep were no kindred to me. I darted out from behind the duke and let my blade loose. While named Slayer of Demons, Everto Trucido’s sharpened edge worked just as well on the flesh of angels. The third of the rebels would learn this firsthand.
His hand glistening with golden energy, I took it off at the wrist. I silenced his scream by burying my blade beneath his chin, pinning his tongue to the roof of his mouth as the steel slid through to crack the dome of his skull. His eyes rolled in their sockets and I felt his weight upon my sword arm.
Forcalor finished the others before I could draw my weapon loose. “Come, child. We must reach Uriel before he is forced to seal the Garden and we are trapped outside.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me along. “To Eden, my brothers,” he screamed as we ran. Thunder roared, competing with his voice. “Rally to Eden if you would live!”
As we closed upon the Garden, it was clear Gabriel had known where we would make our stand. Generals on high, He and Michael sent wave after wave of their rebellious legions to assault the gates of Eden. Uriel held strong, an army of desperate angels at his back, though it seemed only a matter of time before they were overcome.
Uriel’s cherubic face out of place on the field of death, he was no less a warrior for his boyish appearance. Dressed in full battle regalia, save for a helm, his sea-green armor reflected his position in the Angelic Choir. An image of the Tree of Life was impressed upon his breastplate in the finest gold, its roots circling his limbs, and winding their leafy way to his fingers and toes to begin the journey upwards once more. His fiery sword, not simply enwreathed in fire, but made wholly of the flickering tongues of God’s flame, which set light to the sun, laid waste to any who dared come too close.
Rebel angels melted away at its touch as those allied to Uriel stood at his side and defended the flanks. For all his majesty, it was clear the battle was already turning against the guardian of Eden. He looked frayed and worn, as did Forcalor. It was not the fight itself tiring them, but the nature of the enemy and the field upon which the conflict arose. Never before, not even in the days before Lucifer’s fall, has there been blood shed upon the soil of Heaven.
God would never allow such treason. A quiet chuckle slipped loose at the thought as I was once again reminded of our abandonment. We were alone, even here in Heaven.
A massive boom shook me from my sickened reverie, and I glanced up to see Gabriel and Michael joining the fray. The storm of their might showered Uriel and his forces with a rain of magical fire. Uriel stumbled back toward the open gates, defending as he went.
“I have to help him,” Forcalor growled through clenched teeth as a wave of rebel angels followed on the heels of the archangels’ attack. He said no more as he raced to bolster Uriel. I followed at his heels. Gabriel’s forces were upon us before we reached the gates.
Forcalor flung aside the first of his attackers. I wasn’t so fortunate.
My stomach churned at what I must do, and I felt as though my sword couldn’t move fast enough. I cut down several of the heretics as they closed, but for every blow I delivered, I received three in turn. There were simply too many.
Bursts of energy exploded all about me and I felt my hair catch fire, the flesh of my scalp blistering as I drew left to skewer yet another angel I’d once loved as a brother. The look in his golden eyes slowed my hand further. The blood spilling from my wounds did little to help.
Though I fought on, I could feel myself weakening. My ribs ached with every breath, a furnace in my lungs. Everto sat heavy in my hand, my knuckles showing white beneath the crimson coat of blood. My magic reined in for defense, to keep the fiery assault at bay, I could not hold the rebels at range. Dozens of bodies littered the ground about me, the courtyard tiles slick with the fluids of dead and dying angels.
And yet they still came.
I could hear their muffled shouts of anger, their cries for my head. Each speared my heart in turn and fueled my desire to rid them from my home. Sadly, passion is no shield in time of war. My vision blurred by weariness and the fog of battle, I didn’t see the angel who’d slipped past my guard until it was too late.
I spun to meet his blow, but he moved faster. His blade crashed into my left hand. I felt my fingers snap, the bones in my palm crushed under the pressure. White light filled my eyes and I felt my legs wobble beneath me. It had only been by luck that I’d turned his sword aside, the flat connecting with my hand rather than the edge. It made little difference in the pain, though I’d die with all my fingers.
No adrenaline to fight the agony that raged up my arm, I crumpled to my knees as the rebel angel closed. His gaze locked on mine and I saw him then for who he truly was; Jatar. We had been lovers once, and I’d believed friends after. He laughed as he stood over me, putting the lie to my belief. The remnants of my heart burst inside my chest.
“Gabriel will reward me greatly for slaying the demon-bitch who poisons the Kingdom.” His words were daggers, carving away the moments we’d had together. He drew his sword above his head and grinned as though we had never been anything but enemies. I couldn’t bring myself to try and stop him.
The hazel of Jatar’s eyes suddenly turned red, then an abysmal black, before bursting from their sockets. His face melted away like so much candle wax, his body dropping into a heap on the tiles. And for all his intended cruelty, I couldn’t help but mourn his loss.
Uriel stood where Jatar had just moments before, the sky ablaze behind him. He held out his hand to me. I could feel the heat of his sword as its fury washed over me.
“All that remains of Heaven is Eden, and I worry that too shall soon fall. I must close the gates before the battle bleeds into the Garden, but I would ask a sacrifice of you, Scarlett.”
As he helped me to feet, I could only nod.
A sad smile broke on his face. “Flee to Earth and find help, if there is any to be had. We cannot win this war alone.”
