Rise Of The Nephilim

Silla stood in front of Haman’s door. She raised her hand to knock, but hesitated, releasing the breath she’d drawn in. “Here goes.”

She knocked quietly. The epoch who stood guard did not engage them or question them. Haman opened his door. He smiled.

“Oh, sister, you’ve come for a late-night chat, I see.” That would not have been unusual since they were in the habit of having late night chats to pass the time. “And I see that you’ve brought company.”

“Yes, Haman,” Silla said as she gently pushed him back inside the room, Maxine closely behind. She closed the door behind them. In a whisper, she asked, “Brother, do you love me?”

Haman looked at Silla curiously. “Of course, sister. More than any.”

“Then you will help me.”

He cast his eyes on Maxine suspiciously.

“What have you gotten yourselves into?”

Maxine shook her body impatiently. “Hurry! We are running out of time!” she insisted.

“Out of time for what?” Haman asked.

Silla responded, “Zeda. She’s in trouble. We have to save her from the fires and the Imps.”

“What? Are you crazy? Father will not hesitate to take our heads!” Haman paused briefly. “What? Why do we have to help Zeda?”

Silla answered quickly, “She tried to take her life.”

“What? Father will certainly kill us if we help her.”

“He won’t if we help each other,” Maxine said. “We have to show him that our lives are worth something more than just numbers in his great army.”

Silence filled the room as Haman weighed their request.

“All right. Besides, it’s my duty to protect my sisters, even if it means losing my head.”

“Good,” Maxine said with a slight smile.

“Okay. Let’s get Gaden,” Silla suggested as they quietly exited the room.

Both Gaden and Shian agreed to participate in the potentially fatal mission to save Zeda.

“We will need weapons,” Gaden suggested as they walked down the hallways, being careful not to raise the suspicion of the Epoch guards.

They passed an alcove leading to the armory. Several Epochs guarded the area; two flanked each side of the wide, rusted iron door. It was not unusual for Nephilim to visit the armory, even at night, to select weapons for training and sparring with each other. Haman opened the door and the others followed him inside.

The feeling of being too late ate at Maxine’s nerves. “Hurry!” she whispered.

“This should easily take the head off a Dungeon Demon,” Haman said as he removed a small but sharp ax from its holding hooks.

Silla unraveled a spiked chain; Shian, a long dagger; Gaden, a Babylonian sword. Maxine was more over-zealous; she chose both sword and spiked chain. They all looked at her as though she’d lost her mind.

“Sister, are you planning a full-out war with the Imps?” Gaden asked.

“No. I just want to be prepared, that’s all.”

Haman held his ax with a firm grip. “All right, let’s do it. Let’s save our sister.”

A feeling of belonging filled their hearts, a feeling that they had never really felt before. Finally, a purpose—their lives meant something.

“Gaden, lead the way,” Haman suggested.

Silla hesitated. “Wait. How are we going to get by the guards near the dungeon?”

“We’ll figure it out when we get there,” Gaden said, opening the door leading back to the alcove.