WIP To ensure some peace for Earth, God gives Mihdael to Satan |
"Angel Warriors" Written by: Melinda Reynolds, ã1991 Part Two: Hellbound [[AUTHOR'S NOTE: At the end of Book One – EarthBound, God replaces the Guardian of Earth – who had always been Salathiel – with Mihdael. Time frame is circa 1986-1991.]] EDITS MADE JAN '05 IN GREEN CHAPTER ONE Location: Eden's Gate, Eden; circa 1986 I Thy request for audience is granted, Satan. Say now what thou wouldst have from Me. "A pact, or… arrangement, if You prefer—" A pact? And what wouldst thou seek to prove this time, Evil One? Hast not thy past bargains and challenges proven thy words false? Dost thou now seek another means to thy ends? What couldst thou do, if I shouldst refuse thy request? "What I have always done, but at a higher level. You know full well the amount of damage – the horror – I can unleash on Earth, if I should send all my demons forth." Satan spoke in a quiet, sinister tone. Darkness cloaked the tall form, a protection from God's Light. Yes. Thou wouldst take the power I allowest thee, and turn it against the innocent. To do so wouldst invoke My wrath, and My Angels wouldst be set against thee. "And how would Your precious Earth fare with such a battle raging around it? "However, I did not come here to discuss such a confrontation, rather to offer instead an alternative. You have always said how pious and God-fearing Mankind would be without my interference." Such hast it always been. The slitted, glowing red eyes gazed at Him with bold challenge. "Are You prepared to back up such beliefs with action?" Take care with thy words, Satan. If thou hast something to say, then do so. "I will grant Earth a respite from my Evil, from my influence, for … shall we say, a year or so, in exchange for… one of Your own." Thou wishes one life for many? "Not a life, just…a part of it. Send me the Angel—" Hold, Satan; thou art not to speak the name of any Angel, save I giveth thou leave to do so. The proud head lifted, the smile crooked. "Give me then the Angel that guards Earth, send him to me in Mortal form and ability; subject him to my will, my commands. In return, we shall see if Earth is truly as perfect, as peaceful, as You say it can be. "I will not interfere with their natural inclinations. I will not hamper or tempt those who rule. Leave them to their own devices, their own greed, and their many religions. "Do You have enough confidence in Your mortal creation to agree to my request? Or do You need to lay their sins at my door, to shore up that confidence?" I have never lacked confidence in Mankind. They are as much My children as any of My other creations, as any of My Angels, as any of thee. Yet… to give unto thou a child of My heart, that is not a thing I can treat lightly. "Take time to mull it over, then. Will six years be long enough? And know Thee well that during that six-year period I will bring Mankind closer and closer to the edge of destruction." Cold, brittle laughter underlined the threat. "Man himself will finish what I have started, with or without me – or You." Thy words wilt be weighed and considered. Thou may return to Me, whensoever I shalt call to thou. *** *** *** Location: Eden's Gate, Eden; circa 1989 Satan, thou will attend Me at Eden's Gate. The Fallen archangel appeared as bidden, shrinking back from the Glorious Light shining through the elaborately wrought bars of Eden’s Gate. “You have decided?” Yes. "You will give me Earth's Guardian?" Yes, and thou wilt grant Earth a measure of peace? Wilt withdraw thy Evil influences from the minds and hearts of those who rule her nations? The laughter, scornful with maniac victory, rose then fell off sharply. “Oh, yes, Lord God, I agree. For there have been more wars fought, and more killing done, in Your Name than I could ever hope to inspire. "Earth, for the `good' it will do, will have a respite from my Evil." Thou may step on Heaven's side of Eden's Gate, into My Realm. But know thou well that Michael stands ready to intercede if thou practices any deceptions. Mocking, contemptuous laughter followed His words as Satan's dark, cloaked form appeared. "Michael," the voice replied with loathing, "can rest easy." I have agreed to this request, but this Angel wilt not be given unto thee unconditionally. Consider carefully thy demands, Evil One, for only three of them wilt be granted. “I might have known You’d renege at the last minute. The Angel will be sent to me in mortal form and ability, he will be obedient to my commands, and You, Lord God, will not sent any of Your Angels or Archangels to aid or rescue him.” Thou hast stated four demands. Mortal form and mortal ability are two separate stipulations. Thee will be granted three, and no more. Anger darkened Satan’s features, and Michael stepped forward, his hand resting with casual intent on the hilt of his sword. “Very well, then,” a hand extended from the cloak, waving the Archangel aside, “if you’re going to be primitive about it…” The voice trailed off as Satan considered the options: human form and ability, both needed and non-negotiable. Obedience could be dealt with, for non-interference from God was a necessity. “I retract the request for obedience. If I can’t break an Angel’s will, then I am unworthy of my title.” *** *** *** The command reached from Eden's Gate to Earth, heard only by the Angel to whom it was sent. Hear My Words, Earth's Guardian. Thou wilt give unto Archangel Raphael the guardianship of Earth, and attend Me at Eden's Gate. Mihdael relinquished the guardianship to Raphael, and vanished. He reappeared, in mortal form, at Eden's Gate. God's radiance enveloped him, and he knelt, oblivious to all except the Glory that surrounded him. The Divine brilliance caused Satan to turn away, to cower near the Gate, as close to the Darkness as possible. "I am here, Father." There were a few moments of silence, and Mihdael waited. Satan frowned at the Angel's voice, his form and essence obscured in God's Light. The Evil One endeavored to pierce the veil of Glory, only to be repulsed by its Purity and Perfection. God's Voice resumed, kind and gentle, and somewhat hesitant. My Angel… Thou wilt no longer be required to serve as Earth's Guardian. The warrior looked up into the radiance, uncertain. "I … do not understand, Father." The guardianship of Earth is temporarily given unto Archangel Raphael. Thou wilt serve Mankind, and Myself… elsewhere. Cringing before the Glorious Light, Satan steeled raw nerves and once again gazed intently into the white radiance. The Angel's voice… it was different; not the voice that had been heard and memorized so many centuries ago. "Thee knows I will obey Thy wishes, Father; but, I am pleased, and honored, to guard Earth, and—" "I did not ask for this Angel!" Satan, realizing the switch, interrupted him, furious. "You know full well it was Salathiel I sought! Not this…this--!" Fury overwhelmed words, as the Dark One, unmindful of God's earlier admonishment, advanced angrily, ignoring Michael's drawn sword. Then, thou shouldst hath been more specific in thy request. I agreed to give thou Earth's Guardian, and hath now done so. Mihdael surged to his feet, stunned to see Satan so near Eden, and his first reaction was to draw his own sword on God's sworn enemy. Michael stepped forward, placing a strong hand on his arm, restraining the defensive move. Mihdael looked at the Archangel, then lowered his arm; he sheathed his sword, knowing Michael stood ready to defend. He looked back at the Creator, unable to comprehend Satan's presence. "Thee hast allowed the Evil One to be here? To appear before Thee and Thine angels, and to speak to them?" Satan, in a near rage, turned on him. "Do you not see, you fool?! He has tricked you, just as He has tricked me!" At the Warrior's puzzled expression, Satan took a mental effort at control. Resisting the impulse to shake some sense into the thickheaded warrior, Satan continued in a calmer tone. "Three years ago, I asked for Earth's Guardian--having been forbidden to speak the name of the Angel I wanted, but who, at that time and all the time before, had been the Angel Salathiel--in exchange for…certain provisions on my part. I gave Him six years to decide; and in half that time, He changed the Guardians, and then agreed to my terms. "And now, I must yield my power over Man, and you must yield to me." Mihdael ignored the ranting, his gaze steady. "Thou art… giving me unto Satan, to Hell?" A chill crept over him, a coldness he couldn't keep from his voice. It is necessary for Mankind's survival. Didst thou not pledge thy life to them? "Then allow me to fight for them; allow me to defeat Satan's armies once and for all. Thee created me as Warrior. My vows bind me to Thee, to Heaven, to Mankind; without that, I have no use, no purpose. "Is this what Thee would have of me?" Again, thou questions My commands. Thy faults multiply, Angel. "I question not Thy commands, but only the means with which to carry them out. I beg Thee, do not turn me away from Thy Realm. Allow me to fight, to defend those entrusted to me. I fear not Satan, nor Lucifer, nor any of the Fallen; nor the demons that serve the Evil One, for I have fought many of them before…" He looked to Michael for confirmation, but the Archangel remained unmoving and silent. Unnerved, he turned pleading eyes to his Creator. "Do not send me to them as a mere…offering, as one would a lamb or calf. If I must go, let me go as Warrior; let me be, once again, the vanguard of Michael's army— "Am I never to be redeemed in Thine eyes, Father? Am I never to be allowed to prove to Satan and the Fallen the extent of Thy power as is evidenced in me, Thy Warrior?" Satan broke in, tone disdainful, "I was not aware that You now allowed such pride to run rampant among Your Angels. Could it be that pride is more of a sin for some than it is for others…?" Silence. Thou art now in My Realm, and thou wilt keep thine own counsel. Mihdael, thou hast heard My Word as well. Thou art to be given unto Satan. Thou wilt attend the Evil One in mortal form, in body, mind, and spirit---as Satan hast requested. Yet, I shalt grant thou thy Angelic Glory, and My Light. Thou wilt be both Human and Angel. Obey My Word, do as I ask of thee; as thee wouldst obey any of My Decrees. "Allow me the benefit of Thy Mercy, my Lord God. If I have displeased Thee, I know not how." His arched wings lowered to the ground, and he knelt, head bowed, voice threaded with despair. "If I have done something wrong, then tell me, and I will correct it. If I have neglected, or overlooked, anything, then tell me, and I will attend to it…" Do not question further, Mihdael. For, as I hath said, Mankind's continued survival depends upon thy obedience, faith, and actions. "But not by defense; not by fighting for them." He rose unsteadily from his kneeling position, and stood, more defeated than defiant. He let his shield slip from his grasp and fall to the ground between them. "If I am not to defend them, or Thee, or Heaven, then I have no use for my shield; nor sword, nor armor." He withdrew his sword, placed it on top of the shield, followed by the golden armor. "For Thee has clearly stated that Thee has no further use for me. "I will go, for I love Thee, and Mankind, too much to disobey Thee." He stepped back, then turned sharply away as Satan moved toward him. "And thou, Satan… thou hast gotten more than just an Angel. Thou hast a Warrior unworthy of Heaven and undeserving of Hell." II Mihdael stood silently, gaze downcast as Michael approached Eden's Gate; the Archangel hesitated, looking at his warrior. Darkness swirled between them, as Satan interceded before Michael could say anything. "If I have no other choice than to accept this…Angel, then let us be gone from this place of… Light." Michael, open the Gate, and allow them to leave. The Gate swung inward quietly, and Mihdael walked through without a backward glance or word. Satan followed close behind him, the Light of Eden reaching faintly past the threshold. Mihdael stopped, back stiffening, as the Gate closed, locking with a soft chime. *** *** *** Satan, cloaked and shrouded in Darkness, was an indistinct, barely humanoid shape. Tall and slender, the Evil One laughed quietly, taking in the warrior's defiant stance. "You are now in my kingdom; yet you do not bow to me? You refuse me even that small courtesy?" "I am not one of your condemned souls, Satan; I do not crawl before you, begging your favor." "It appears," the voice continued, taking on a hard edge, "that He has given me an Eagle instead of a Dove." "That is so, Dark Lord." The figure, clothed in swirling blackness, walked slowly around the warrior angel, then stood before him once more. "No matter. It will be just as satisfying – perhaps even more so – to clip an Eagle's wings as a Dove's…" "As you say." "You do not fear me?" "No." "That is only because you know what I truly am, despite my title." The voice lowered in anger. "If I were as you, you would fear me; as you fear Lucifer and Michael." "I respect Michael; and I pity Lucifer." Mihdael shook his head, not knowing how to make this once magnificent Archangel understand. Had all the power, all the knowledge, come down to this? Had corrupted as thoroughly as God had said would happen when such power and intellect was allowed to overrule reason and compassion? And the Casting Out itself – all of the Cast Out angels were now demons, the complete opposite of what they once were. He would have to remember that, and not be caught unawares. "No, you do not terrify me. Your deeds and thoughts terrify me. That you can see no place, have no use, for kindness, gentleness, and love; and seeing no use for them, you cast them aside—" "As I was cast aside?" Satan interrupted in a sharply vicious tone, "Neither you, nor any of His so-called `merciful' angels, had any gentleness, kindness, or love for me. I was more His equal than any of you; I was denied nothing, until Man was created. "My crime was that I dared to love God more than Man, more than any other being He created. I was His, in spirit, mind, and soul; I belonged to no other. Then Man was created, taking my place next to Him. "It is Mankind that I hate with all my being; and it is God Himself whom I challenge, with all the power and knowledge He gave me. I will have my revenge on both Man and God. And you, His favored warrior, will enable me to exact that revenge, by His Own Decree." He listened to the hate-filled, tormented words without replying; he remained near Eden's Gate, unwilling to leave the Light and warmth that radiated faintly through its bars. But to Satan even that dimly seen radiance and barely felt warmth was too much to endure any longer. The maleficent being summoned the powers of Darkness, and they vanished from Eden's promise, and descended through the deep, cold depths of Hell. "An Angel of Light," the voice purred softly, "confined to the Stygian shores of sin and corruption, surrounded by the sea of despair. There is no bright, open sky here for you; no limitless vistas of space and will. "This, this is my home, my Realm. You will find it quite different from what you are accustomed to; however, I find that it suits my… moods." As he listened to the foreboding words, the Darkness dissipated, allowing at first a reddish glow at varying levels, then a deep, hot orange followed the red, suffusing the gloom, outlining the ebony columns formed of blackened and charred bone. The haphazardly arranged columns held the arched ceiling aloft, the height reaching into a deep blackness devoid of bright, sparkling stars. His feet sank into rich, blood-red, plush carpet; heavy, velvet drapes covered the walls, the wine-red fabric embroidered with gold and silver designs of witchcraft and sorcery. Furnishings of every type, of every era, from Classic Greek to Ultra-Modern, stood stark against the charred horror; but the artistry, the beauty of the man-created items were lost here. They were only shapes and forms, and dark – it was all Darkness. Despite his own Angelic Light and the red-orange glow, there was still Darkness…no light…no amity…no warmth. The red and orange glow seemed to appear from no particular source or direction – like randomly scattered lamps, or… He approached one of the columns, touched a small fissure where the glow appeared, and deep within he saw… the Fires of Hell. He pulled back, realizing this room, this chamber, was set in the very heart of Hell, aglow with the eternal fire of perdition, of damnation. He retreated, physically and spiritually, recoiling instinctively from the all-pervasive Evil that clutched and pulled at him, endeavoring to wrap him in its coils of perversity and sin. "Do you not find it soul-stirring, so close to my sustenance, to my power, to my essence? Is it not comforting, this womb of Darkness of which all of Mankind find themselves before birth? It will be your rebirth: An Angel of Light to an Angel of Darkness, my consort of Evil." He didn't answer, and the laughter passed by him as Satan, a darker shadow in the gloom, crossed to the far wall. "I have been too close to Eden, too close to the Light; and I now find it necessary for my own…cleansing." A muted flutter of wings whirred and sang, as unseen creatures hastened to draw back the thick drapes, and he followed the Evil One into an adjoining chamber. Even with his protective field, Mihdael could feel the tremendous heat billowing from the fiery lake of sulfur and brimstone, of molten rock and souls. Lava flowed and dripped like blood from the red-hot ceiling, vaporizing before touching the boiling surface of the enclosed lake. Red, orange, and yellow flames leaped and danced, towering upward in a searing blast of perpetual renewal. Satan stepped into the roiling miasma, the Darkness burning away as the liquid fire flowed around ankles, legs, and hips; flowed around the darkly brilliant crimson wings – not the resplendent gold and scarlet feathers they once were, but of a leathery texture, thick and heavy at the top ridges, becoming thin and translucent at the taloned edges… horrible… demonic… yet beautiful. He found himself wondering if Satan also retained the transcendent beauty that all Archangels possessed. Or had that, too, been changed, altered to a demonic horror that used the artifice of beauty to shield its ugliness of Evil? Satan's tall, slender form, still enveloped in Darkness, walked serenely into the center of the lake, reclined among the black, obsidian rocks, and disappeared from sight. The warrior stood, fascinated in spite of himself, at the edge of the fiery pool, the black, glass-like finish reflecting the glow of his Light. The seething, red-orange surface lapped at the perimeters, splashing over the barrier of rock and glass. Then, with an abruptness that caught him off-guard, there was a great geyser of fire and lava as Satan suddenly surged upward, body arced and wings out-flung. The Darkness hovered above the wings, as Satan emerged, arms held away from lean, rounded hips as yellow flames leapt from wrist to thigh, forming a translucent, golden drape. Red flames swirled around bare feet, curved around long legs, narrow waist, and full breasts, settling onto skin that was both flesh and scales, forming a fluid, flowing gown of scarlet red. Billows of hair flew about wildly, then fell in a cascade of burnished copper forming an almost delicate frame around the tall, perfectly molded human form. And the once-sparkling green-blue eyes, now a glowing vermilion, gazed at him, cold and mocking. "Look upon me, Warrior. Gaze upon my form and tell me: Do you like what you see?" And she was still beautiful; Evil, he knew, could be very beautiful. Her coppery-red wings folded behind her as she stood before him, while he took in her appearance, her form, her face. It was-- familiar, somehow--in some distant part of his memory. With jarring suddeness, he remembered, and he lurched back, startled, and appalled. "No… It can not be—" "Oh, come now, you know I am a female." She smiled, the full, red lips tempting, seductive. But he remembered them differently: soft, gentle. "But…not her," he protested, unable – unwilling – to believe Satan's true, feminine, form, "You can not have her form, her face…" "For one so intelligent, you are still very ignorant. You knew I was female, yet had never seen my mortal form. Few angels have, for I gloried in the raw power given to me while In my natural state of pure energy." Her tone hardened, eyes flashing, "You well know He has very little imagination, having created Adam in His Image. Who, then, do you think He used to create Eve's image?" She saw the memories then, in his mind. Eve, the first Woman in Eden, on Earth, she had captured this warrior's heart. "After all, He did not follow the male/female appointments dictated in the Animal Kingdom. He made the human female distinctly and visually different from the human male. Somewhat disconcerting, would you not say, that Man would not be able to recognize a female unless she was physically different from himself?" Her laugh was chilling, "He thought He was honoring me, by giving her my image." Recovering somewhat, and realizing there was very little of Eve in this demonic form, he looked at her sadly. "Thou was second only to our Lord God. Was that not enough for thou?" The anger wavered, a hint of regret stealing into her eyes. "For a while… Yes, I was content; until Man was created." The regret faded and the oblique eyes narrowed. "That contentment faltered, then collapsed when He commanded me to serve the one who wore my image. Me, the Ha-Satan, the Chief of the Seraphim and greater than Michael himself, His consort, counselor, and companion—" Her voice shook with rage, fury twisting her features. "He commanded me to bow down to a… a creature of clay and bone! I would not do it; would not serve and love one less than myself, one who was less than Him!" She reined in her emotions with effort, swept past him with regal disdain. "And you, Angel, you know the result of that refusal; in fact, caused some of it." She cast back a glare of ice and fire. "I have not forgotten…" CONTINUED IN SECTION 2, HELLBOUND: "Angel Warriors - HellBound: Section 2" |