Lightbringer - The Patron Saints of the Damned III

Chapter 14 – The Dim Ora

Megan followed Buer, the lion demon, back out of the tunnels. As she walked, she noticed the passages behind them grow darker. She realized that torches were being put out. No doubt, Dufaii was extinguishing them—biding for as much time as he could get. And what was Megan doing? Going to relay a message before again setting out on the impossible quest of finding Exousia. It seemed that the demons were not going to abandon her. But that didn’t make her an asset either. But what did it take to become an asset to demons? Michael, Abha, and Exousia had risked and given up so much to become helpful in this war against tyrants. This war against angels and a deity that had allowed her brother to be killed in a challenge as pointless and destined to be lost as the rest of the universe seemed to be.

Megan looked to the demon ahead of her and asked, “Will you need me to speak to Hades?”

Buer turned, looked at her, thought, and then shook his head. “There are rumors that Lieutenant Yana has been in contact with her since the end of the Challenge, ever since Ammon started to act … differently. Honestly, I already sent one of my soldiers to convey the same message–as they can get further flying than we can on foot.”

Megan nodded and then continued her line of thought. “Will the angels have to exit the caves at this same spot that we’re leaving by?”

Buer turned back to study her eyes. When he did, he seemed to know what she was thinking. “You won’t be able to hold them off for long.”

“Could a couple minutes make a difference?” Megan asked.

“We aren’t prepared for an invasion,” Buer replied, thinking aloud. “Every minute could potentially mean the difference between us having an army waiting for them or not.”

“I think I can stall them,” Megan said, pulling the knuckle dusters out of her pockets. “And me fighting will be just like Michael. It won’t break the truce.”

“Such an action would merit damnation in their eyes,” Buer said as they reached the light of the tunnel exit. There were a few members of his squad waiting there, arguing loudly about what to do. “You may not be able to just return to your kind … or transition easily into the afterlife best suited for your species. And you could just as easily come with me and help in finding your friend.”

Megan thought about this for a moment before she shook her head. “These bastards took my brother and everything good I ever felt, all because of their stupid games and their truces and their secrets. If this can make a difference, I need to do it.”

Buer nodded. “We will get an army here as soon as we can.”

Megan nodded and then said, “Thank you … and I’m sorry I stabbed you.”

Buer faced her, his expression deadly. “Anyone who turns their back on a warrior deserves a blade in the back. Continue to fight well, human.” With that, he went to his companions and exited the cave, leaving her alone.

Megan didn’t know how to take that last statement or how much of a warrior she could be. She’d seen Exousia, Dufaii, and Michael each fight, and what it took for them to defeat their enemies. And while she had trained in boxing for a few months, she had no illusion that this made her a warrior on par with them. Her plan was just to resist, to distract them for as long as possible. Then, when they figured out she was stalling, she would get in as many hits as she could to buy another minute more as they subdued her.

Like Dufaii, Megan backtracked into an utterly dark tunnel. There, she could hear the marching of the soldiers approaching, feeling the reverberations from the synchronized steps. It made her body tremble and her jaw shake. No, she needed to focus on her rage, and the strength it gave her. Megan did so, allowing anger to fill her as she stared into the darkness.

The first shadow appeared with torches lighting it dimly from behind. Its eyes met hers, and it whispered, “You … you can do what a demon still cannot. Listen to me, keep your eyes open, focus on me, and do everything I tell you. The time for talking is over.”

Megan thought that this had to be Dufaii. Still, a miniature lightning bolt of panic went down her spine. Megan tried to resist it. Though she didn’t trust herself to be able to fight, maybe she could do something in the darkness where a demon could see and guide her.

“Prepare your weapons.”

Megan slid the knuckle dusters around her trembling fingers and took several quick breaths. She could hear the footsteps right around a bend in the cave. Her brain reminded her that she had no more time to change her mind and run if she didn’t do it now! No, she was going to fight!

“Walk forward, stay close to the left wall.”

Megan did so, hunching over a little bit to make herself smaller. The steps were right beside her. She looked away from the spot back in the cave where the eyes softly glowed before she remembered she couldn’t look elsewhere if she wanted to hear the instruction.

“Kneel and strike to your side with a left hook on level with your shoulder … now.”

Megan struck with all her power. She felt the dusters hit what felt like leg muscle, perhaps the unarmored back of an angel’s knee. Warm blood spurted onto her arm and the angel to screamed out before falling to the ground. The other angels responded by stopping in their tracks.

“Take three steps forward, two to the right, turn around. Straight punch at your sternum level. Duck. Then turn back around to face me.”

This time, Megan felt like the blow struck something more solid, like the back of a hip. There was a sickening crunch, a scream, and then a sound of a weapon woosh over her head. This blow was followed by two more screams.

“Do not attack!” a voice screamed from the back of the room. It sounded like the Archangel Gabriel. “The Godkiller is having us attack our own. March into the light. Do not attack and do not stop.”

“Lay down in the corner of the room and do not move.”

Megan crawled to the corner and narrowly avoided being trampled by an angel behind her. She covered her head in case someone did step on her and looked toward the lit end of the tunnel, where the angels at the front of the formation were now able to look around for whoever had hit them. Then, more sounds of battle began at the back of the tunnel. She heard metal strike metal, more screams, and almost a domino effect as the sounds traveled from the dark and into the light. A blur of shadowy darkness was striking the angels from behind.

The angels were confused, looking ahead and behind for the attacker that had seemed to have now teleported behind them, not knowing whether they should disobey orders just to be knocked down or attacked, or to react and potentially hurt their own. Their confusion grew with every heavy bashing sound.

“Stand, left step. At head level punch … now. Turn right. Flurry of strikes. Two steps forward–angel on the floor, trying to get up. Fall onto your knees. Strike, strike, strike.”

More blood coated Megan’s face. She followed instructions precisely until she and the mysterious demons had struck down every angel guard in the formation. Then, before it revealed itself, the shadow sprinted back into the darkness.

All was quiet then, except for groans of angels who looked unable to stand. They were almost all conscious. None of them had been decapitated nor their heads smashed into cave walls. It seemed odd … like someone had taken great care to disable them in just this way, saving their heads but leaving their backs broken, their throats slashed, their arms and legs twisted, and their wings mangled.

Four figures stepped into the light, unscathed. The first two were the Archangels, Gabriel and Raphael. They pulled the third, Michael, along with them. His hands were bound behind him, his body was severely bloodied, and his face was swollen from blunt force trauma. As soon as they stopped, he fell to his knees in exhaustion.

The last figure to step forward was the Creator. They in particular looked the most struck by all that had happened. The Creator knelt to comfort an angel whose body was particularly twisted in a painful-looking manner. They all looked around until they spotted their attacker.

Megan stood to her feet, all eyes upon her. As she looked down at her slightly swollen knuckles and the golden blood that had sprayed upon her from the angels attacking one another, she suddenly understood why the mysterious demon had needed someone to take the fall. Deciding to maximize whatever time she had bought, she closed her eyes and said, “Let Michael go, or I’ll do the same thing to you and the Creator!”

She couldn’t see, but silence told the incredulity with which the Archangels and the Creator were responding to her absurd threat. It was as if they were not quite sure what sort of deception was being employed upon them.

Megan jumped on their uncertainty with the first thing that popped into her brain. “Do you think that Exousia was the only human that’s been taught by demons or angels? I’m Michael’s apprentice! And I will destroy all of you if you do not let him go and leave right this moment.” Of course, she realized that none of this would happen. But the longer that they engaged with her, the longer the demons would have to come up with some kind of strategy.

“She’s lying,” Raphael said, her tone seething. “The Godkiller is around here somewhere, this is his work! He has broken the truce. Creator, we should reply with force immediately. They have lost the privilege of your fight with Ammon.”

“Actually … this bears no resemblance to the work of any assassin demon,” Gabriel replied, dubiously. “Besides, the Dufaii I know would not have left so many conscious like this. No … many of the wounds do seem to have come from this human’s weapons.”

“No, I did it!” Michael said, and then let out a grunt.

“You say as you can barely stand,” Raphael replied with what sounded like pity. “Whoever did this knew exactly where the four of us were, even in the dark, and that they couldn’t take us along with the others. And I’m willing to bet that they then placed the weapons in this human’s pockets. But let’s see for ourselves if the truce has been broken. Open your eyes now, girl, so that we can see the truth. Or we will make you.”

Megan took a few breaths, knowing that her time was running out. She looked straight down at the ground and then opened her eyes. Able to see their feet in her peripherals, Megan balled her hands into fists with the knuckle-dusters ready.

“Enough of this!” Raphael said and drew her saber. She took several steps forward and lifted the blade. But then she stopped and let out a gurgled grunt before she collapsed.

“I agree,” Gabriel replied.

Confused and needing to see what had happened, Megan looked up fully. It took her more that a moment process what she was seeing. The Archangel Gabriel had struck Raphael in the back with his small shield. He then faced Megan, gave her an appreciative nod, and said, “You did well.”

The Creator also stared at him, like a child who couldn’t understand what was happening. They didn’t look scared, only confused.

“I don’t understand,” Megan said, glancing at all the struck-down angels also looking on with horror-stricken expressions.

“Why don’t you explain why we are here and I will take it from there,” Gabriel said, looking at the Creator. “The human … Megan … deserves to hear this after all the horror we brought upon her family. And your angels need to know as well, that the truce was never broken by demonkind, before they take out their vengeance upon the wrong enemy.”

The Creator exhaled heavily, looking almost like they were going to cry. But it wasn’t the type of cry of a child. No, this was sorrow that came from absolute exhaustion. A tiredness that could have only come from something as old as the universe and so tired from the weight of it that they could not make water come from their eyes. The Creator said, “The physical world is dying.”

Megan shook her head; she didn’t understand.

The Creator took a breath and then continued. “In the beginning, I was but a wandering spirit–departed from a world of my own. Wishing to create, I gave life to a void I had found. Not wishing to be its ruler, I splintered myself into fragments more powerful than even I was. These became the gods, who were to imbue the world with their chaos, creativity, and freedom. These gods also fragmented themselves to create life–creatures of myth and magic wholly their own. Unlike the gods, however, these beings could not live forever. Slowly, the universe itself drew the shards of divinity from the deaths of the countless creatures walking upon this world and others. In a miracle of life, the universe recycled these shards in birthing the natural world. Yet, for as long as life remained simple, the shards would forever be recycled.”

“But then … we came along,” Megan whispered, mostly to herself.

The Creator nodded. “Among other sentient species, yes. You took the shard of divinity and created a husk of your selves around it. So once you died, you brought the shard of my divinity with you into the afterlife—an afterlife for most where you found yourselves bound to the gravitational orbit of my presence. And an afterlife for some where they were trapped here … destined to become food for those I had starved and mistreated in my madness … instead of allowing their pain to finally end. What I didn’t understand until recently, however, was how much more, the creation of your souls demanded more shards than any mere plant. This universe … it is running out of shards of the divine.”

Megan let her jaw drop for a moment. Was the Creator of the Universe really saying that all of this was to prevent life from ending? To keep the world from becoming like the deadwoods? No … none of this made sense, particularly not the horrors that had befallen the demons, Exousia, and those she loved who had died during the Challenge. She glared at all of them as distrustfully as ever.

Gabriel then spoke up. “The Creator decided to sacrifice everything to make sure what they created could go on. They needed to gather all the shards of divinity that could and fix the unforgivable wrongs they’d committed in their madness. But the long history between our people and the demons did not make that an easy task.”

The Creator nodded. “If it were even possible to convince the Archangels to destroy me, I would no longer be there to ensure that the truce with the demons was kept. I feared that the angelic guard, in the zeal I had tormented into it, would punish demonkind by sealing them in here forever and cutting off their access to the corrupted. Not only that, but my own people would again face an ultimate betrayal as I abandoned them as reward for their loyalty.”

What does any of this have to do with the Challenge!” Megan shouted, nearly spitting at them in her rage. She breathed heavily as she tried so hard to wrap her brain around it all “Brennan, my friends, and Exousia … it was all just so … you could die?”.

“I was the one who chose Exousia,” Gabriel said, his tone heavy. “Her life at the time afforded her a future darker than the one I could give her as the Champion. She would have felt the tragedy far less than any other human. I never expected that Dufaii would change all that. Nor could I predict Ammon’s madness taking over him so that he would no longer be able to destroy the Creator. And your friends … they were victims of chance and the strength of their own spirits.”

“What about her?” Megan asked and pointed as Raphael. She detected the bitterness in her own tone but couldn’t stop it.

The Creator looked at Raphael who seemed to dwindle in and out of consciousness. The Creator knelt and held the Archangel’s head to her apron like a mother holding a sleeping child. “She inevitably found out the truth. But after all that has happened, she could not let me go. She planned to start a war between the angels and demons, cut out the souls of the demons and the damned, and use them to replenish the world instead of my soul.”

Megan glared at the unconscious Archangel loathingly. “So, it’s her fault.”

The Creator smiled, but it was a heavy smile that contained infinitely more melancholic empathy than happiness. “When we are hurt, we search for someone to blame. Exousia … Ammon … Dufaii … Raphael … Gabriel … Me. We all had a part in what happened to bring you so much pain. But the truth is that I had to created a universe of chaos so that it could truly be free. And freedom comes at a price that each of us pays in the form of meaningless suffering and inevitable doom. Some people, like the demons and the saints, try to fight this doom to make the world better for most. Others, like the corrupted souls here, are broken so entirely by the pain that they can only reflect it back at the universe. And some, like Raphael and like you, find something that makes them feel like all the pain could be worth it. But in the end, pain and inevitable madness or death are just payment required for a world that means something.”

Though the words seemed sincere, Megan didn’t know if she could agree or even accept what she was being told. All she knew was that her loved ones had been taken away from her and that she had been left alone in the world. She wiped at her tearless eyes and asked, “So, what happens now?”

“I destroy the Creator here, where their death will also end this realm once and for all. In doing so, I hope to atone for all the pain I’ve caused,” Gabriel said, looking darkly at the exit of the cave tunnels. “I took out all of these angels so that they could watch this happen. They will know that I am the one to blame, that no demon had any part in this. Should they still want to go to war, they will still have no prison with which to torture our siblings ever again. And every deception and division that we Archangels have caused in our desperate vying for control will ensure that there is no united Heavenly Host to oppose the demon’s escape to freedom.”

“I only hope you succeed,” the Creator said as they gently let Raphael’s head fall and then stood to their feet.

“Hope?” Megan asked, now a little scared by the undertone.

Gabriel sighed. “The reason for the Challenge against Ammon was both to give him justification for killing the Creator on the Creator’s own terms, as well as because he and Dufaii were the entities most likely to succeed. With the powers they both gained from the old god Tezcatlipoca and the practice they’ve gained at it through the years since, they seemed best suited to free the shards of divinity from the Creator’s soul. Unfortunately, Ammon’s mind had been broken, and we cannot allow Dufaii to do it without the allowance granted by winning the Challenge.”

“If you fail …” the Creator said.

“I’ve already sent Abhayananda to retrieve his battalion,” Gabriel replied. “I’ll fight you while they, Hades, and whatever is left of Ammon’s commanders lead the demons to safety.”

“Don’t do this!” Michael shouted, startling them and reminding them that the warrior Archangel was still there. If possible, his face looked worse than it had before, wracked with emotion. Tears streaked his blood-stained face and he had fallen to the ground,

The Creator walked to him but did not free him from his bindings or help him stand. Instead, they wrapped their arms around his head and said, “You’ll never understand how precious your loyalty is.”

To this, Michael only sobbed into their apron and shook his head, unable to say more.

Gabriel faced Megan and said, “Wait outside the cave. Do not return here, no matter what happens.”

“Wait … were you the one who was whispering for me to fight the angels?” Megan asked.

Gabriel nodded.

“Then …” Megan said, pausing to think. “Where is Dufaii?”

“I sent him a message via someone who has worked closely with me since I began down this path,” Gabriel replied simply. “If the message reached him, then he’ll be on his way to Exousia.”

Megan’s eyes widened … realizing that they might have found her. She looked one last time at Gabriel and the Creator, her emotions so mixed that she didn’t know how to feel except that she could not ignore the heaviness in her throat and in her stomach. She felt unfulfilled and cheated out of the revenge she wanted, but knew that what they would face was far worse than anything she could ever want to happen to them. So, she ran to Michael, helped him to his feet, and tried to push him out of the cave. This was impossible until the moment she heard the Creator’s words stir him to movement.

“Keep each other safe,” the Creator said softly.

Then, Michael relented and the two of them walked out of the tunnel slowly–making their way toward dim orange light.