Rise Of The Nephilim

JUNE 26TH

THE DARK CITY OF BABYLONIA

Maxine woke to the sound of drums reverberating through the stone walls. The beats were steady, resonant; a far cry from the hurried battle warnings. These sounds were softer, yet still, they sent waves through her heart.

The scent of vanilla and the warmth she’d felt from Mathias’s touch stayed with her.

She sat up in her bed, listening to the unified marching steps of what she thought were Epochs in the hallway outside her door. Then, a knock. She hurried out of her bed and rushed toward the door. Gaden stood before the threshold.

She looked down the hall in both directions at the statue-like Epochs guarding their stations and wondered what was going on.

Mathias’s words, “There will be others who will pledge their alliance to you,” flashed in her mind. She wondered if Gaden was there to pledge his allegiance to her. But Mathias had only come to her in a dream; maybe none of what he said was true or real.

“Sister, you must come with me to the training hall,” Gaden said, a serious look on his face.

“Okay, just give me a minute to change.”

Maxine closed the door in his face and rushed to dress herself in the white, loose clothing she’d been given.

They walked down the long hallway, flanked by Epochs.

Gaden’s hands were in a tight fist, his face taut with muscles. She was intimidated by his stern demeanor and struggled to keep up with his fast pace. It was off-putting and unexpected. He’d been so kind to her from the moment they’d met.

They entered the training hall, the same cavernous room they’d held her birthday celebration in the previous night, the same room where she’d killed Balthazar, Arcadium’s oldest son.

The stench of stale blood that had seeped into the crevasses and pores of the stone ground permeated the room. Maxine held her breath but released it when a pinprick of pain shot through her face, sharply reminding her of the bruise on her lip and the swift swing of rage Āmand had sent her way.

Tables set with food and drink lined the perimeter of the room. Her Nephilim brothers and sisters sat on wooden benches to one side of the tables, their backs to the walls. The middle of the room was now a battle arena, reserved for combat training, as she could see by the two Epochs crossing swords. Āmand soared around the perimeter of the cavern as he waited, accounting for all that was his.

Other than the sound of metal cutting across metal and Epochs grunting in fierce combat, the room was quiet. The food remained untouched. Everyone watching remained eerily calm.