Realm of the Dead (12 page)

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Authors: Donovan Neal

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BOOK: Realm of the Dead
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Chapter Eight

Entrapment

Yeshua stood before the tomb of His friend Lazarus, watching the eyes of those who scoffed at the possibility that hope could triumph over Death.  A thousand eyes of angels, whose station were at all times to stand as minister to the Son of God.  Also, the Horde was very aware of Yeshua's disruptive presence, and those who despised the Son of God marked Him who had thrown them from their home.  For all hovered as a spectral cloud of witnesses, invisible, to the human eye, watching with bated breath and anxious anticipation at any action that God in the flesh would take.

None had long to wait.

With swollen eyes and a face streaked with tears. Yeshua knew that the time to reveal the power of He who vocalized creation was upon them, and eternity wrapped in the flesh spoke to the blackness of an open tomb.

"Lazarus, come forth."

The words of God reverberated across space and time, and past the dimension of life and death. The power of God smashed through the barriers that separated the realms and reached into the underworld to find Lazarus speaking to his peers amidst the righteous dead.  Lazarus' spirit was then plucked from his place and rose from the shining realm of Paradise.  

Lazarus traveled through corridors of blinding light and watched as a great whirlwind raged before him.  Shredding gusts of wind rode upon the backs of screams that could be heard from a creature that lay trapped therein. A great hand parted the impassable hurricane and lifted him through the cyclonic gale, pulling him further into the corridor of light. His spirit traveled through earth and rock, he saw his corpse shrouded in linen. He lit upon it spreading himself over it. His spirit united with his flesh and entered the empty shell. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths as his heart began to once more pump oxygenated blood through his frame.  His muscles turned soft as rigor mortis fled from his cells. Through linen covered eyes, Lazarus knew that he dwelt again in the land of the living. And upon the order of his King; hobbled bound from his stone seat in grave clothes and stumbled from the darkness of his tomb into the light of day.

And when Lazarus had come forth, many fell to their knees in shock. Others gasped and all were amazed, for a man, dead four days in a sealed tomb, now stood before them wrapped in burial cloth.

"Loose him and let him go," commanded the Lord.

Several men timidly approached the mummified body and loosed the bands of linen that swaddled him. When Lazarus's face was revealed, he smiled and immediately his sister Mary, ran to her brother, embraced him, and wept.

Lucifer had come to the surface to see on a report that Yeshua had plucked a soul from the clutches of Paradise.

Enraged, Lucifer said, "I also have this power over life and death."

Lucifer, the Host, and the Horde watched that within their midst Yeshua and the humans basked in joy that a member of their kind had been freed from death. 

Azazel's soldiers hovered over Yeshua and surrounded Him, waiting for the least provocation from the enemy or a command from their king to engage, yet none came. Yeshua paused in the celebrations of reunion with His friend, while He and Lucifer exchanged glances and their eyes locked upon one another. 

The Prince of Darkness' cold eyes narrowed and nostrils flared in venomous contempt, but the Son of God returned His creation's gaze, staring the angel down.  Lucifer's slowly drew his sword from its scabbard and all the surrounding Host and Horde drew theirs. Two armies poised in a silent, invisible tension, each ready to take up arms upon their leader's command. Lucifer's hands clenched and unclenched at the hilt of his blade, while seconds ticked between them all.  Each wondering in the moments that passed, if open conflict would spill over into the realm of men.  Each curious if pretense could finally be shed and mankind drawn into open war.

Yeshua raised a hand smiled to His wayward son. Raised his hands as if to order all to stop, and all swords returned to their sheaths by force. Shock and fear dressed the daemons' faces for the Son of God had with impunity make their weapons of no effect.

Christ shook His head in silent warning. This was not the day to do battle. The King of Darkness sneered with bared teeth, he pouted in anger, turned from his God's gaze and motioned for his soldiers to follow. The Horde obeyed, and lifted themselves to the skies. Yeshua looked on as His rebellious children soared to parts unknown.  All with malice to do evil to the world of men.  

Celebrations continued that Lazarus had been raised from the dead.  And the man now raised from the dead, and having seen the true nature of reality, could also see that surrounding them all were thousands of angels, both elect, and fallen; everywhere the eye could see. He looked to Yeshua, who shook His head again in a silent cue to say nothing, and many Jews believed on the Son of God that day, but some looked upon the Messiah with disdain and reported the miracle to the Pharisees.

  And from the moment of Lazarus's resurrection, Lucifer plotted to have Yeshua killed, knowing that he himself could not touch God in the flesh. He sent spirits to sow fear and envy to Israel's religious leaders while Lucifer gathered the chief priests and Pharisees to the council.

"What do we?" a Pharisee said. "This man doeth many miracles. If we let Him alone, all men will believe on Him and the Romans will claim both our place and our nation."

One of them, named Caiaphas, being the high priest that same year, said unto them, "Ye know nothing at all, nor consider that it is expedient for us, that one man should die for the people, that the whole nation perish not." And this spake he not of himself: but being the high priest that year, he prophesied that Yeshua should die for the nation; And not for that nation only, but that also He should gather together in one the children of God that were scattered abroad, and from that day forth they took counsel together to put Him to death.

And Lucifer stood in the balcony of the council with his lieutenants and beamed, knowing he would use mankind to assassinate the Eternal God who had the audacity to walk the Earth in mortal flesh.

 

*   *   *

Eskalion and Turiel emerged from within a floor of Hell. The tendrils had grasped them earlier, now released them and receded into the ceilings, retracting into the great darkness beyond. Beneath them, the opening from which they entered shut, the sounds of the hissing lava and the bulging eyes dissipated with its closure.

"Are you alright?" asked Eskalion.

"Aye, I have been burned, but it looks worse than it appears."

"Very well then," said Eskalion. "We need to keep moving."

"Agreed," said Turiel.

Turiel floated into the air and Eskalion stood to his feet. "Surely the creature had us.  Why release us here?"

Turiel shrugged his shoulders "Why, indeed, my Arelim friend. Why, indeed? Nevertheless, I see a light ahead. What say you we venture toward it?"

Eskalion strained to see in the darkness. "I see nothing but black upon blackness.  What light do you speak of that you see?"

"Perhaps it is only attuned to my Grigoric eyes alone that I am able to make out its existence.  Yet if there is a light ahead, let us avail ourselves of it," Turiel said. "Here... take my hand and follow."

Eskalion did as he was bidden and took Turiel's hand. They floated following a light that was just out of Turiel's reach; a light that seemed to direct them deeper into the chamber.

"Do you think Iblis and Jerahmeel made it?" asked Eskalion.

Turiel was silent for a moment, fixated on the light that now slightly pulsed. "I hope so. I truly hope so."

"Earlier in the lower halls...why didst you touch the walls? What were you thinking?"

"I am sorry, it is as if something called out to me.  Something good and beautiful. I cannot describe it. There were lights within the walls, they called to me."

"Lights? Called to you?  You mean you could hear them?"

"No, not with my ears, no. But with my eyes...it beckoned to me."

Eskalion grew increasingly nervous.  "And there is a light that you see now that we follow?"

Turiel nodded in the darkness.  "Aye.  It is beautiful.  I do not understand why you do not see it."

Eskalion released Turiel's hand.  "Turiel, I think we should stop."

"For what? I can clearly see that an object now resides in the room.  It seems to be a pedestal...yes. I see it clearly now.  A pedestal, and there seems to be a book atop it."

Suddenly, red circular runes appeared on the floor beneath Eskalion's feet. More of the circles then filled the floor, each one containing ancient Elomic glyphs. Light slowly crept into the room all around Eskalion. Light that revealed that the walls had eyes.

"Turiel stop!" Eskalion said. 

But Turiel paid him no heed as he hovered, entranced in fascination over the translucent book now before him.  A tome of such beauty that it gleamed in light. Its visage such that it seemed to fade in and out of existence. The leather bound book gave off an aroma, not unlike mint and wafted beneath his nose and a spectral voice from the book called to him to peer within.

Eskalion gasped, slowly realizing that everything in Hell was a ruse. And that the creature had lured them here, separated the party members from one another, and had singled out Turiel in particular. The Grigori simply followed the delusion that Hell had allowed him to see. An enticement that led him exactly where she wanted him. Turiel grasped that Hell was far more intelligent than they had been led to believe and that they were in grave danger.

Eskalion called to his brother again, but Turiel was too entranced to hear his brother's muffled words, too mesmerized as his hands touched the gilded tome on the grand lectern before him.  His fingers caressed the book, and his love for all things written guided his eyes to read what was written within, and the moment his eyes glanced upon the text of the page, the words of the book sprang up and shrouded him in flowing black ink. His stylus turned to a dagger as he slashed at that which held him, but Hell had sprung her trap.  The Redactor struggled, reaching out to Eskalion for help, but it was too late. He felt himself slowly lose substance, and in a moment he was gone, his body sucked like a funnel into the book.  The tome slammed shut, and a surge of light shot out to saturate the room, blinding Eskalion.  He shielded his eyes until they adjusted to the light levels. When the haze lifted, he saw the daemons surrounded him with weapons drawn.

One voice spoke to all. "Hell hath made impotent the Redactor. He is no longer a threat. Retrieve the book, and destroy the Arelim." Guards immediately raced to cut Eskalion down, and he drew his sword to engage the group in battle, hacking and slashing against the throng now stood arrayed against him.

Quietly, out of sight and tucked away in the corner of the room, Ashtaroth watched as Eskalion and the powerful Redactor Turiel, rolled on the floor struggling against forces imagined.

Watching as Hell slowly wrapped her prey's minds in tendrils of maggots, allowing each to live out their illusions while she consumed them alive.

Ashtaroth grinned at the pitiful scene and left to report to his master, satisfied that a portion of Heaven's incursion into the creature had been contained.

 

*   *   *

Enoch and his party stumbled along the dark path, walking ever deeper under the mountain.  The cadmium beams that supported the palace could be seen growing and stretching above their heads.  Great stone pillars latticed the ceilings and walls, each stretching and branching in all directions, burrowing into rock. Stalactites lined the corridors which they walked dripping of water, while sliding rocks and fog saturated all the eye could see. The burrowing beams made the craggy cavern shake. Tremors and aftershocks made Enoch uneasy as he and his party walked on a ledge, each precarious step carefully taken so that Enoch would not fall into the blackness below.

"How do we know that we are going the right way?" asked Metatron.

Hadriel replied. "There is but one way to Aesir, and we are upon the path."

"And you know this how?" asked Enoch who carefully followed Gabriel as they shimmied their backs hard against the cliff face.

Hadriel sighed. "The catacombs were not always as you see them now.  I remember...because I was here."

Enoch stopped asking questions, watching the sad faces of Gabriel and Hadriel.  He wondered of the events that happened in their pasts to turn this place into what they saw before them now.

Gabriel stopped and raised his fist to bring the party to a halt. The party members ceased moving and each stared past the others in attempts to make out the scene before them.

"Where are we?" asked Metatron.

Gabriel sighed. "The remains of the Canyon of Fellowship."

Metatron looked about him, and fore and side were ledges and hovering platforms of cadmium beams.  They gave off an iridescent glow and shimmered, suspended in midair. Below them was a great chasm of darkness, the depth of which could not be known.

"Why are we stopping?  Why can we not cross?" Metatron said.

Hadriel picked up some earth and pebbles, then replied, "Behold and watch." He tossed the dirt and it landed onto one of the floating platforms of rock. The solid layer of crystalline rock then disappeared, the pebbles and dirt then fell into the blackness below. Each then listened for a sound to indicate that somewhere in the deep dark, a bottom might exist.  But no sound ever came.

"Could we not fly across?" said Metatron.

Enoch pointed in the distance. "No, we cannot... behold."

The group watched as crystalline platforms materialized, then disappeared and reappeared, but never appearing in the same place nor elevation.  Platforms crashed into one another, as they reappeared, disintegrating into nothingness.

Moreover, openings lined the walls of the canyon and great gusts of wind issued forth and blew across the gulf of black. Side drafts burst in spasmodic fashion from the openings, while from others, the winds drafted down, making flight dangerous to undertake.

Gabriel studied the chasm and eyed the disappearing and reappearing platforms, counting under his breath. "There is a pattern," he said.

"Are you sure?" Enoch said.

"There is a pattern," he said again.

Hadriel looked at him and cocked his head. "I do not see it.  How can you be sure?"

Gabriel then looked at Enoch and spoke softly to him.  "Do you trust me?"

"With my life," said Enoch.

"Then climb within the folds of my wings and hold tight around my neck."

Metatron looked at him. "Are you mad?  You cannot cross that!"

Gabriel did not reply. Enoch looked to Metatron and then to Gabriel. With a bit of hesitation, he climbed atop Gabriel's shoulders and settled in the folds of Gabriel's wings.

"Are you ready?"

Enoch snickered. , "No, but proceed anyway."

Gabriel nodded, and the Leopard of Heaven was off. His form seemed to blur as he ran into what seemed to be ether, but when he settled to his feet in the middle of space, all gasped until a platform materialized beneath him. Gabriel paused, took a breath, and leaped upwards and with a dash, he was a blur to Hadriel and Metatron, who looked now terrified for the duo.  Gabriel landed atop another platform, but its crystalline surface caused him to slip slightly.  Enoch lost his grip and fell plunging into the darkness.

Gabriel raced to catch him, his speed such that he overtook Enoch who fell easily into his arms.  Gabriel then stretched his great wings and propelled them towards the chasm's side, then pushed off and launched them back to a platform.  Gabriel viewed that but two jumps would lead them to safety.  He waited, knowing that within seconds the platform that they stood upon would disintegrate beneath their feet.  He looked anxiously waiting for the next to reappear.

"Gabriel?" Enoch spoke uncertainly.

"Soon," Gabriel replied as he turned to eye a cavern opening behind them.

Enoch also looked behind them and saw that the platform began to disappear and would soon cause them to drop to the depths below.   Gabriel adjusted their position to the center of the platform, then spread his wings.  "Get ready!" he yelled.

Gabriel saw debris fly from the opening in the wall, and held Enoch tight. The platform then disappeared from underneath their feet.

"Gabriel!" yelled Metatron in helplessness and fear that his comrades were lost. He moved to also place himself on a platform.  But Hadriel grabbed him and held him back that he would not be lost to foolishness.

Enoch screamed as gravity sought to pull them into the deep, but a great gust from the cave opening across from them caught Gabriel's wings and shoved them across the expanse, and they landed atop another platform.  "We are almost there!" shouted Gabriel.

Ten cubits laid between them and the ledge, and Gabriel, not willing to lose Enoch, heaved Enoch across the remaining distance.  Enoch sailed through the air and landed hard on the ledge.  Gabriel then flexed his wings and every muscle in his body was taut as he unfurled the wings on his ankles and sprinted as a runner out his blocks running atop the platform as it disappeared behind him with each step. He extended his body and launched himself across the expanse, wings unfurled as a great bird of prey, gliding towards Enoch on the other side. 

Enoch lifted himself from the ground and turned to see that a cave opening stood behind him. He could feel the cool breeze stroke his face, and in the moments that passed he heard the sound of rushing wind.

Instinctively, he dived away from the opening as a battering ram of air slammed straightway into Gabriel, pushing him away from the cliff.

Gabriel slammed into a rocky floating slab of a platform and propelled farther away from both Enoch and the rest of the party.  He tried to right himself, grasping at the platform against relentless air. And although he was powerful, the mighty angel could not escape the blast that pummeled him across the expanse to the opposite side of the chasm wall.  His head struck the rock surface with a thud, knocking the Malakim prince unconscious.  He then fell like a bird with a broken wing, tumbling into the blackness of the abyss, a dim light falling and overtaken by the dark depths below.

"Noooo!"  Metatron cried out as he fell to his knees, who now on his knees stood screaming from the cliffs edge into the darkness.  "No," he whimpered.

Enoch pushed himself to his feet, and quickly ran to the ledge and looked for any sign of his friend. "GABRIEL!" He cried out into the dark, and the dark answered not, and only the sound of rustling winds echoed in reply.

Metatron choked back tears and Enoch peered into the deep black, hoping against hope that Gabriel would return, Hadriel recorded the events as was commanded by his kind. As he journaled the entry of Gabriel's heroic act to save Enoch, his heart sank. But Orithinal, the Grigori assigned to Gabriel, suddenly appeared from the shadows and broke his silence.

"I have watched these many days the actions of the Malakim Prince. I hold his journal in my hand and have stayed silent and chronicled.  But no more. Now witness and bear record that I now break the laws of our people, that the word of the Lord not fall to the ground.  Behold the interference of a Grigori, and my submission to my fate. Let the scroll of Gabriel's life be redacted, and the events I have seen be rewound.  Let the tale of existence be undone, and my story within unbound. Rewrite this scroll, my King. Make new our past events.  I give my life in exchange for his. Let a new thing be written, and let this thy servant be found honorable in thy sight, but if not, let it be known among our people that Orithinal would not see Gabriel lost."

Caphus and Tymierial then appeared and ceased in their own chronicling of Metatron and Enoch as they reached out to stop Orithinal, crying, "Nooo! Do it not!"

But it was too late, for Orithinal took his pen and slit his hand with the tip so that he drew blood; then he took the book, and opened his vests to reveal his Kilnstone, and it was gaseous to behold.  He then took the page that chronicled Gabriel's fall, placed his bloody hand upon it, and placed the page on the ground. And when he did so, his stone glowed, then sparked, and a voice was heard from Him that shook the cavern.

"Thy petition hath been granted." And it was the voice of the Holy Spirit.

And Hadriel then screamed. His stone shattered and the pages of his book burst into flames as he faded in and out of existence. Metatron stepped away from him, and when he turned his eyes from the light that was the brightness of Orithinal, he beheld that the Grigori that watched Enoch and himself also appeared and glowed.

Enoch watched the scene from across the way and stared into the darkness where Gabriel had fallen. A pulsating light appeared in the distance and raced up the cavern wall in prismatic colors, and shot forth from the deep and landed next to Enoch. When Enoch tried to look upon the figure, his eyes burned that he could not see, and a voice spoke to him.

"It is I, Enoch, for I am yet alive. Behold, and view the work of God."

And when Enoch lifted his eyes, Gabriel stood there, glowing.

"But how?" said Enoch. "I saw you fall."

Gabriel pointed across the cavern to Hadriel who watched as Orithinal, his peer in the Grigoric order, shown as bright as a star, and his body, pen, tome, and inkhorn were aflame. And when the flames were extinguished, Orithinal stood before them all without the cowl of his people. His pen, book, and inkhorn had fallen to the ground, and he stood naked before them and said, "I have little time.  I must go to the Mist, and here in Limbus will I await the Lord to free all from the realm of the Dead. I impart to thee, Hadriel, this last gift," and he motioned for Hadriel to come near.

Hadriel then bowed his head and leaned close to Orithinal, who touched his eyes, and thus Hadriel could see a path to cross the chasm, and it shimmered in the darkness. And when he turned to look back upon Hadriel, his Grigoric brethren who chronicled also stood by him, and Orithinal faded into mist, the breeze of which dissipated his gaseous remains until he was gone. His tome then fell to the earth with a thud.

The remaining two Grigori, Caphus, and Tymierial, then turned to Hadriel and sorrow filled their countenance. They bowed and vanished again, concealed beyond the sight of Elohim, to continue journaling the Book of Life.

Hadriel grasped at the mist as it slowly wafted away into the air and whispered, "I will never forget this day, my brother." He picked up the book and smiled. "Your chronicle will not be lost."

Hadriel stood to his feet and he and Metatron crossed the hidden path of the chasm to join both Enoch and Gabriel, who hugged him.  He bowed and they continued their perilous journey through the cavern, but Gabriel stopped for a moment and turned back to reflect on the angel he had never met nor seen... a mighty angel who had just given his life, that he might fulfill his mission for all their people, and Gabriel whispered to the mists in the air, "I will not make thy sacrifice in vain.  This I promise, and this I swear."

And he turned and followed his comrades deeper into the mountain towards Aseir.

 

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