Michael: Last Angel of Earth

In hell, Lucifer, accompanied by his queen and adviser, watched the duel commence from the portal. While Lucifer and Lilith watched with amusement, Xathaniel prayed that Zarakoth would emerge as the victor.

“I wouldn’t pray for success if I were you,” said Lucifer.

“M’lord?”

“If Zarakoth wins the duel by some miracle, his fate is already sealed. His death will serve as a reminder to those who step out of line and who fail to uphold their oaths.” Xathanael lowered his head and continued to watch the duel unfold. Back at the fortress, Azrael and Zarakoth matched each other’s swordsmanship. The room echoed with the clashing and clanging of steel. Suddenly, Zarakoth knocks the shield out of Azrael’s hand, leaving him just the sword. Gripping the blade with two hands, Azrael countered the incoming strikes and managed to land a hit on Zarakoth, slicing him mid-thigh. Despite being covered in scales, it still caused him pain. Roaring aloud, the Dragon king struck Azrael from behind with one of his mighty wings, knocking him off balance. Tumbling over, Azrael recovered just in time as Zarakoth slammed his sword down. The young angel blocked the oncoming attack using the flat side of the sword. The more Zarakoth pushed his weight down the blade, the more Azrael resisted. The floor beneath them even started the crack from the sheer force between the two warriors.

Feeling the hot breath coming from the dragon king, Azrael shifted to the right, catching the sword between the crossguard and then relating with a strike from the pommel. The blow from the metal pommel stunned Zarakoth, causing him to move away from the angel. As he touched his snout, he noticed blood on his fingers. The young angel had made him bleed. Now he was serious. Sheathing his sword away, he charged at the young angel and took him by surprise. Using his massive claw, he grabbed Azrael’s jacket and slammed him down. Then, picking him up, he punched the young angel so hard that when he landed against the wall, he nearly shattered it. Azrael fell to the ground, coughing up blood. He was wounded but not out of the fight. Spitting the blood out of his mouth, Azrael grabbed his sword. Using his wings, he propelled himself into the air and threw his sword at Zarakoth like a javelin. With precision, the blade lodged itself in the dragon king’s shoulder. However, Azrael was not done. He then quickly recited an incantation, and suddenly the sword began to heat up and burn the scales and Zarakoth’s insides. The Dragon king screamed in pain as he desperately tried to remove the blade from his body. Taking this opportunity, Azrael flew towards him and locked his legs around his enemy’s neck. Azrael proceeded to punch the king then over and over. The blows from the metal fists busted the scales across the Dragon King’s face and caused even more blood to spill.

After a barrage of punches and strikes, the Dragon king’s body began limping. Seeing his enemy’s eyes roll backward, Azrael got off Zarakoth and let the king’s body fall to the ground. Panting hard, Azrael turned his attention back to the portal.

“Seems you lost,” he said. However, Lucifer just laughed.

“I would not be so sure,” he replied. Before Azrael could ask, he heard an earth-shattering roar coming from behind. He quickly turned around, and Zarakoth arched his back forward. The Dragon king’s body began growing in size and sprouting new limbs and wings. Azrael was shocked at what he witnessed. It was genuinely unnerving. After a while, the dragon king’s transformation stopped, and towering over Azrael was a great Fire Drake, Zarakths proper birth form. The Drake let out a bellowing roar that was so powerful it destroyed the fortress itself, saving only Azrael and the portal to hell. Just outside, the fellow angels and the survivors scattering across the fort saw the devastation of the keep. Henebul and the other angels were frozen in fear. The survivors themselves were also caught in fear. No one had ever seen a Fire Drake this large or this powerful. Through the portal, Xathaniel smiled, for he knew that no one, not even an archangel, was powerful enough to kill the king of dragons.

After Zarakoth finished his demonstration, he thwacked Azrael with one of his scaly hands, sending the angel high into the air. The sudden blow dazed the archangel, but he saw Zarakoth above him in the air before he could recover. The mighty deliver another earth-shattering blow, sending him back down to the earth and creating an impression on the floor of the once-standing fortress. His armor had taken some of the impacts, but he felt his body scream in pain. Wearily looking up, his “last” glimpse was that of Zarakoth spewing fire down upon him. The sheer blast reimbursed that of a laser beam, with heat earning that of the sun. To finish the job, Zarakoth rained several massive balls of volcanic explosions, each one falling like a meteor from the stars.

With the last of the meteors falling, Henebul nor the others could see Azrael’s body through the fire and rubble. In the sky, Zarakoth laughed confidently, believing he had killed the last angel. As for Xathaniel, a smile slipped through his lips.

“Seems everything has been dealt with, m’lord,” he said with a smirk.

“I wouldn’t crow so early, Lord Xathnaiel,” said the queen. Puzzled by the queen’s remarks, he turned his attention back to the portal, and through the flames, his expression turned drastically. Azrael was emerging from the carnage, through the fires and flames, without a single scratch on him. It was impossible.

“No, this cannot be!?” he shouted. “No one could survive that!?”

“He can,” replied Lucifer with a smile. In a twisted way, he was glad that Azrael had survived. Suddenly, Angel, Demon, and the humans could not explain what happened next. The flames surrounding Azrael were soon drawn towards him until a cyclone of fire appeared. Then the fire changed from blazing red to soft blue with elements of green. Instead of destruction, the fire felt almost comforting, like a warming embrace. The cyclone then grew smaller as the flames and Azrael’s form changed once more as they did. Some of the fire stuck to his wings, making them burn a blazing blue. His armor’s red highlights were now a mixture of blue and green. His facial tattoo now glowed green, his eyes burning a bright blue with the green vain marks now evident. But that was different from what had grabbed everyone’s attention. It was the sword in his hand. Azrael’s blade was encased in blue fire, which was relatively unheard of. As he grabbed the handle in his palms, the flame burned with even more intensity until it appeared almost white. At first, Xathanael believed it to be another version of the Reaper form, but to his horror, his lord and master explained that this was no Reaper.

“He purified it. That bastard purified it,” he said softly. Now it was Lucifer’s turn to be shocked. Not even he believed it was possible, but yet here it was, the Reaper purified. Out in the real world, Azrael lifted his head, locked on Zarakoth, and extended his wings. Then, like a mighty bird taking flight, he launched himself into the air, breaking the sound barrier like a rocket headed to space. Panicking, Zarakoth spewed fire once more at the oncoming angel. However, it did not have the same effect Zarakoth desired. Azrael was ready this time.

Using his sword, he pierced through the flames with ease. Then, he went through Zarakoth’s heavily protected chest like a hot knife through butter in a blink of an eye. The Dragon king could not react fast enough to process what had happened. All he could feel was a pain in his chest, and as he looked down, his blood rained down onto the surface, but it wasn’t over. Now hovering above the mighty Drake, Azrael raised his sword high into the air, and then with one mighty swing, he cleaned the Drake in half. Suddenly the once powerful Drake felt utterly helpless. As he quickly descended back down on the rubble of his former fortress. The rest of the angels took cover as Zarakoth’s upper half touched down with a heavy thud, dust emancipating from the impact. The other half also fell several yards away, crashing into a nearby building. Dust covered the surrounding area; the only image that could be made out was two blue wings. As the dust settled, Henebul and others saw Azrael standing over the upper half of Zarakoth. Azrael walked across the Drake’s powerful chest until he was just under his chin. Blue pupilless eyes locked with blood-red slits as the pair stared at one another. Zarakoth was helpless before him. He tried to speak but only squeaked a few grunts and gurgles.

Then, Azrael did the unexpected and removed his hood. Here he showed everyone the actual aspect of the Reaper purification. His face was now that of a burning skull with blue flames. It brought a sense of fear and shock to the onlookers but surprisingly not to Zarakoth. As Azrael opened his mouth, blue fire spewed onto the passing dragon king. Yet while the flames burned Zarakoth, he felt no pain whatsoever. All he felt instead was a warm embrace of his twilight. With the flames covering his body and burning him away, he turned to his former foe, smiled, and thanked him with a nod. Azrael nodded his head as the flames fully engulfed the dragon king until he was reduced to nothing more than ash. As the winds lifted the remains into the air, Azrael covered his head, transforming him back to his original form. Looking up into the sky, he gave a soft speech to his enemy.

“Pacem invenias in altera vita, rex potentissime.” (May you find peace in the next life, mighty king.) With his foe defeated, Azrael turned his attention back to the portal and took notice of the expression on Lucifer’s face. He walked towards the doorway and stopped a few inches away, almost tempting the ruler of hell to reach out and grab him. Lucifer did nothing except stare directly back at Azrael.

“Consider this your first defeat, Lucifer—the first of many. We are no longer the underdogs. We are the rising power now,” he calmly said. And with that, the portal closed, leaving Lucifer in his thoughts. Xathanael, consumed with anxiety, said nothing and waited for his master’s response.

“Xathanael,” spoke Lucifer.

“M’lord?” he replied.

“Gather the council. Get everyone,” said the ruler of hell. Xathanael bowed and quickly went to summon the others.

“I told Xathanael would fail,” said Lilith.

“Yes. Yes, you did, my love,” replied her husband.

“Now that Azrael has returned, what do you plan to do about it?” she asked him.

“I do not know how I will beat him. All I know is that I have no intention of losing. The hardest choices require the strongest of wills.”

“A prophet, I hear,” mused Lilith. Lucifer smiled.

“No, my love, a survivor.”

Back in the real world Azrael and the other angels reunited with their friends and allies. Hugs were given, and tears were shed. None fit that description more than Margret. Upon learning that her friend was alive, she ran towards the angel and embraced him in a tight hug. She wrapped her arms around him and cried openly into his chest. Azrael smiled and hugged her back. Colum and Fiona also joined in the embrace, as they were happy that their friend was alive and better than ever. After the hug, Margret was still wrapping her head around how Michael was alive and now going by another name. Azrael then told her that he would explain everything when they returned home to the Vatican. Just then, Khamael appeared beside his commander.

“The Ravagers have all been captured, m’lord,” stated Khamael.

“Where are they?” replied Azrael. Khamael pointed to one of the cells just by the north wall of the fortress. Jibril and a few angels were carefully guarding it. Azrael thanked him and walked over to the cells. At the gate, he scanned the, with his eyes until his eyes locked on one in the far corner of the cell. He pointed to him and called over to of his angels.

“That one, bring her outside,” he said. Bowing, the two angels opened the cell door, pushed aside the ravagers, and grabbed the one Azrael requested. Bringing her outside, Azrael noticed she was not like the other Ravagers. While most ravagers were descendants of dragons, she was a Dracaena, a being who was half human, half serpent. While her upper body resembled a woman clothed in armor, the lower half was that of a snake. Her hair was long, and her features appeared human; however, he noticed two protruding fangs and a forked tongue whenever she spoke.

“What is your name?” he asked her. She said nothing to him.

“Answer the Azrael when he speaks!” shouted an angel.

“Don’t do that,” he said, reprimanding the angel. The angel quickly bowed and apologized for his outburst. Once more, he asked for her name.

“You need not be afraid of me. I will not hurt you,” he spoke. Finally, she answered him.

“Ansa,” she hissed.

“Ansa?” he reiterated. She nodded.

“Well, Ansa, your king is dead. His Tyrannical reign is over in these Isles. The people here are free, and that leaves you all without occupation. So, what to do with you?”

“My men and I are your prisoners. By your command, you could have us all killed,” she said.

“True, but I don’t kill prisoners, so I leave it to you. How would you like to be treated?

“Like a fellow warrior,” Ansa replied proudly. Azrael smiled and told his angels to unlock the cell door and free the Ravagers. His angels protested, but Jibril reminded them that he was Azrael’s successor and that he knew the truth. Unlocking the door, the surviving rangers excited their iron prison and stood outside with the others. They were unsure if this was a ploy to kill them or something else.

“You are free from your master. Free to make your own choices. My angels will offer you safe passage to a place of your choosing. I ask that you no longer enslave any humans or other beings wherever you dwell. Nor take up arms and raid human settlements. Accept them, and we part as friends. Break them, and violence will resume. The choice is yours,” he stated. Ansa turned to her men and talked among themselves. Giving them time, Azrael went back to the others. As he walked, he noticed several humans in the fortress had come out of hiding. Many took refuge in their homes during the fighting, but not that it was over. Many came out to see the aftermath. As the crowd grew, Margret walked over to her friend and whispered in his ear.

“Seems you have a following now,” she jested.

“You know this is only the beginning. Lucifer’s wrath will be unhinged after this,” he replied.

“That is for another time. Let them enjoy freedom now, for you gave it back.”

“It’s not the freedom they enjoy. It is hope. Things may change. If only everyone could experience this feeling all over the globe.”

“They can,” said Khamael. Azrael and Margret turned to the massive angel, who explained that his staff could transmit messages worldwide. He further stated that he could also broadcast from this very point. Smiling, he told Khamael to be ready and asked Margret to get the crowd’s attention. As both attended to their task, Azrael took this moment to think of a rousing speech. None in his head were good or had any merit to them. Then, he remembered how Ambrose spoke during the church’s sermons back in Ireland. He remembered how passionate, honest, and charismatic he was. He remembered how the people were drawn to him, even in the bleakest of times. Nodding his head, he knew what he had to do.

“They are ready,” said Margret. Turning his attention to the crowd, he glanced at Khamael, awaiting his command. With a slight nod, Azrael began to speak.

“Many of you do not know of me. Some of you heard rumors, while others have heard the truth. I am Michael, the archangel who caused the world’s end. I brought forth the enslavement of humanity and the abolishment of hope. Even now, I see the doubt you have of me in your eyes. Humanity has been under the iron fist of darkness and cruelty for too long. Too long has the innocent suffered unjustly. Too long...have I ignored my duty as an angel.” He paused for a moment. His emotions were beginning to surface, but he had to keep himself balanced.

“Well, I would like to help everyone - if possible. We all want to help one another. Human beings are like that. You have shown me this. We want to live by each other’s happiness - not by each other’s misery. We don’t want to hate and despise one another. In this world, there is room for everyone. And the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way. Yet Greed has poisoned men’s souls, has barricaded the world with hate, and has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. And the Machines of war have dulled our reason, sapped our spirit, and made us hard and unkind. We need humanity, kindliness, and understanding. Without these qualities, life has turned violent, and we are lost.” A commotion was beginning to take hold of the crowd, and Azrael knew it.

“However, when inventions have gone silent in these dark times, faith cries out for the goodness in men - for universal brotherhood - for the unity of us all! Even now, my voice is reaching millions worldwide - millions of despairing men, women, and little children - victims of a system torturing and imprisoning innocent people. To those who can hear me, I say - do not despair. The misery now upon us is the passing of Greed - the bitterness of those who fear the way of humanity’s progress. The hate will pass, dictators will die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish!” Now the commotion was turning into soft cheering. Azrael now had them and continued.

“Soldiers of the world! Don’t give yourselves to brutes - those who despise you - enslave you - who regiment your lives - tell you what to do - what to think and what to feel! Who drill you - diet you - treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder. Don’t give yourselves to these unnatural forces - machine monstrosities with machine minds and hearts! You are not machines! You are not cattle! You are men! You have a love of humanity in your hearts! You don’t hate! Only the unloved hate - the unloved and the unnatural! Soldiers! Don’t fight for slavery! Fight for liberty!” The crowd now erupted into cheering and praises. Even the old gods were swept by the rousing speech. However, Azrael was far from finished.

“I say unto you, “the eternal Kingdom is within man” - not one man nor a group of men, but in all! In you! You, the people, have the power - the power to create. The power to create happiness! You, the people, can make this life free and beautiful, make this life a wonderful adventure, and take back your home. Then - in the name of hope - let us use that power - let us all unite. Let us fight for a new world - a decent world that will give the youth a future. By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power. But they lie! They do not fulfill that promise. They never will! Dictators free themselves, but they enslave the people! Now let us fight to fulfill that promise! Let us fight to free the world - to do away with barriers - to do away with Greed, hate, and intolerance. Let us fight for a world that will lead to all men’s happiness. Soldiers! In the name of hope, let us all unite!”

As he finished his speech, Azrael heard the people chanting, not just here. He could feel them all over the globe. Their chants filled his heart with power and strength, but most of all, their hope made him feel like an angel. Closing his eyes, tears fell down his cheeks. Tears of renewed hope and belief. And above all, faith. Faith had returned to humanity. Letting out a deep sigh of relief, Azrael opened his eyes again, and Azrael swore he saw Ambrose alive and well amid the crowd. He knew better. Still, the thought of his former friend smiling down upon him brought a smile to his face. Whipping his eyes, Azrael told the people to spread the word throughout the kingdom that they were free and welcomed all to their home in Rome. As the crowd dispersed to gather their things, Azrael returned to the others who commended him on his speech. Some found it instead moving. Some being the ravagers. Ansa approached Azrael ahead of the others, breathing rather slowly. She then bowed before him and declared no one expected from them.

“I, Ansa of the Ravagers, pledge my loyalty and service to you, Lord Azrael. Please accept me as a soldier of the light,” she stated. Her declaration was unexpected, but Azrael could sense the sincerity in her words. He then turned his gaze to the others behind her.

“Do you all feel the same?” he asked. No one spoke, but Azrael could hear their hearts and knew their answer. He unsheathed his sword and told every ravager to kneel. The shuffling of feet could be heard by everyone. Once everyone knelt, Azrael drew his sword.

“This oath you are about to take has deep meaning for us, Angels. Many brothers and sisters have died honoring this sacred pledge. I pray that you all exemplify the same merit they shared.” Hearing the seriousness in his voice, all the ravagers nodded. He then recited the oath.

“Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright, that the Creator may love thee. Speak the truth always, even if it leads to your death. Safeguard the helpless and do no wrong. Repeat.”

“Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright, that God may love thee. Speak the truth always, even if it leads to your death. Safeguard the helpless and do no wrong,” they said.

“Again,” said Azrael.

“Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright, that God may love thee. Speak the truth always, even if it leads to your death. Safeguard the helpless and do no wrong,” they repeated.

“Again!” he shouted.

“Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright, that God may love thee. Speak the truth always, even if it leads to your death. Safeguard the helpless and do no wrong!” they yelled.

“AGAIN!”

“Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright, that God may love thee. Speak the truth always, even if it leads to your death. Safeguard the helpless and do no wrong!” they screamed at the top of their lungs.

“That is your oath,” he said. He glanced down at Ansa and then struck her. The blow caught her by surprise.

“And that is, so you remember it. Rise, my brothers. Rise a Knight,” he shouted into the air. The ravagers all arose, suddenly noticing their attire had altered entirely. While they recited the oath three times, Azrael used his power to remake them as soldiers for the light. They were all equipped with shiny new armor and weapons. As they rose, they felt a wave of purity flow through them. Ansa herself noticed that this feeling was unusual but a welcome one.

“Now, let us all go home. Ansa, gather your men and help the humans with the travel,” said Azrael.

“Yes, Lord Azrael,” she replied and took her men to assist the others. Once they left, Jibril stood beside them and commented on what had transpired.

“In all my years, I have never seen such a thing. Soldier of darkness converting and aiding the light. It’s almost unthinkable. Does making someone a knight make them a better person?

Azrael paused for a moment and slowly turned to face Jibril.

“Yes.”