Read Conquest: Rise of the Fifth Horseman (The Fifth Horseman Series Book 1) Online
Authors: Richard M. Mulder
Conquest: Rise of the Fifth Horseman (The Fifth Horseman Series Book 1) (6 page)
Chapter Nine: Vagrant’s Revelation
Before
God had created man, he created certain Malakhim; an intellectual race of beings
with glorified flesh and bone, who didst serve as His angels. After God hath
created man, the Morning Stars of the Malakhim sang together with joy…
Allan awoke lying face
down in a puddle with his head throbbing. Disoriented, the brutal memories of
this most recent nightmare flashed back to his mind. He tensed with an imagined
pain that lingered from a bullet that had ripped through the chest of another
man’s body. An incoherent voice still echoed in his mind…
Pushing himself up from
the damp floor, he opened his eyes groggily. He found himself in a dimly lit ‘cell’
made up of chain-link fencing laced with barbed wire. There were several
identical cells to his right and to his left, and several more on the adjacent
wall. Its appearance was more suited for a dog shelter. It certainly smelled
like one.
He looked around to
find a ragged vagabond crouched in the corner of one of the cells on the far
wall.
Well, that accounts for
the smell.
“Fine weather this
afternoon, isn’t it?” the old man’s voice echoed.
Allan’s head throbbed
at the sound.
“What do you think of
our accommodations?” the old man laughed to himself, “I hear they provide a
free continental breakfast in the mornings.”
Allan turned away and
continued to ignore him the way he usually would to a beggar on the train
platform.
“I assure you Allan, I’m
no beggar.”
“How do you know my
name?” Allan’s eyebrow rose in curiosity, “Who are you?”
“I have many names.”
A lunatic. Great. I
should have kept my mouth shut.
After a few seconds of
silence, the old man corrected himself, “For purposes of protection, of course.
These men had been after me for decades. I guess I got sloppy. You can call me
John.”
“What men?”
“The hooded men who
locked you up in here.”
His mind was suddenly
filled with visions from his dream of cloaked men attacking him from all sides.
“This can’t be real...”
Allan was dumbfounded, “Where are we?”
John scratched his
filthy white beard in thought, “That’s a good question. I was unconscious when
they dragged me in here all those years ago.”
Years? There’s no way
he’s been here that long and still lives with any sense of sanity.
“I couldn’t agree with
you more.”
Oh, boy. Who is he
talking to now?
“I’m talking to you, of
course.” he stammered, “I was agreeing with you that after all these years I’ve
barely been able to hold on to any shred of sanity.”
Allan’s mind suddenly
went numb, “How did you... what...”
“How did I what?” John
persisted.
How did you know what I
was thinking?
“Oh, that.” he smiled, “That’s
just a natural talent of mine. Sorry if it disturbs you.”
Natural?! There’s
nothing natural about it!
Their eyes locked and
silence ensued for the next few minutes. Then, suddenly John gasped and grabbed
the link fencing for support, his hand narrowly missing a cluster of barbed
wire.
“It’s you…”
“Excuse me?”
A look of shock crossed
John’s face. He dropped to his knees and began muttering to himself. No… he was
praying.
Oh, boy. This guy has
totally lost it.
Moments later John
leapt back to his feet, “I thought this day would never come! I had almost lost
hope!”
“What are you talking
about?”
“The Final Seraph has
awoken!” his aged body danced with new life.
Allan stared at him
incredulously.
The man grabbed the
fencing with both hands and shook it, “Do you know what this means?!”
“Honestly?” Allan
stammered, “I haven’t the slightest.”
“There’s so much to
tell you. So little time.” he began to pace in his cell, “The men who attacked
you are a secret elite group known as the Creed of Nephilim who are led by
Tamerlane of the ancient Timurid Empire.”
The creed of who?
“The Creed of Nephilim.
Anyway, the name isn’t important. We can go into further detail later.” he
spoke impatiently as he pricked his hands on the barbed wire fencing, “What’s
important for you to know is that the man you know as Timur Demyan is this same
Tamerlane to which I am referring. He is a very dangerous man, and I am certain
that by now he has learned of your Awakening.”
My what?
“Again, details I don’t
yet have time to explain. If he finds out my secret, he will do everything in
his power to destroy you. And I won’t lie to you, he has a lot of power.” his
hands started to bleed as he forcefully grabbed at the fencing and shook it
violently, “He has powers far beyond your ability to comprehend. We have to get
out of here. Fast.”
When
the Leviathan saw this, he was wroth because of his displacement. From that day
forth the Leviathan didst fight against God by using his powers of darkness to
influence many of God’s Malakhim to disobey…
It had been many years
since Timur had made the jump.
The realm of the
other world was where he had been trapped for multiple decades, and an
irrational fear of getting trapped there again continually lingered in the back
of his mind. While he had been there without any means of escape, his entire empire
fell apart. Formerly known as Tamerlane of the ancient Timurid Empire, he had laid
siege to hundreds of villages.
The night before he
intended to lay siege on China however, a flash of brilliant white light filled
his bed chambers and an old man clothed in ornate apparel appeared out of
nowhere. The old man was wearing a crown and carrying a bow, and Timur cowered
before what he thought was an angel who had come with the wrath of God to
destroy him. Instead, the old man dragged him away with another flash of
blinding light and trapped him in a dungeon upon an unknown world. He wasn’t
aware at the time that he had been predestined to become the next Seraph and
Guardian of our world.
As the months turned
into years and the years turned into decades, Timur began to lose all sense of
sanity as he awaited death to overtake him. Deprived of food and drink, he
expected his death to come quickly: but death never came to knock on his door.
Many times he screamed through the iron bars, and yet neither guard nor warden
ever came to his aid. His only companion was a dark voice from the shadows.
The voice gained
intensity as the years dragged on, comforting him that he would get his revenge
in due course of time. Though Timur was unable to see anything in the darkness,
he could feel the presence of the Leviathan as if it were a man standing before
him. Nearly three decades had passed before his depression turned into anger
and his anger turned into rage. A sickly green light emanated from his eyes, and
he could make out strange symbols covering all of the walls.
“What are these
markings?” he asked the darkness.
“Thou art entrapped by
these spells of binding.” the dark voice spoke, “These ancient symbols doth
prevent thee from developing thine divine powers and doth prevent thee from
escaping from this dungeon.”
“What powers?”
“Thou art a Seraph.”
the Leviathan explained, “It hast been prophesied that thou shalt take thy
place as the rightful heir to the throne of Atlantis. During thy reign, Death
and Hell shall follow after thee as a fourth part of the earth shall be
destroyed with hunger, famine, and with sword.”
“But how will do get
out of here?”
“First, ye must yield
thy soul up unto me and become my servant.”
“I’ll do no such thing.”
Timur huffed, “I’ve got my own empire to redeem.”
A pair of burning red
eyes began to light up the chamber as the dark voice bellowed, “Yes, you
shall!”
The ground began to
shake violently. Timur staggered and fell as several stalagmites crashed down,
crushing him alive. The red glow disappeared, and Timur was left alone in the
darkness of the cavern. He screamed out in pain for days, but the Leviathan would
not heed his cries.
Several weeks of agony
passed before the Leviathan finally returned. Timur was weak, but was unable to
succumb to death. The Leviathan offered freedom in exchange for yielding up his
soul for consumption. Timur accepted the offer in desperation, and watched the
white glow of his spirit exit his body and erupt in flames. He felt a part of
him die inside as the Leviathan inhaled the thick smoke emitting from Timur’s
corrupted soul.
The ground shook again,
causing the walls of the cave to crumble around him. At first Timur thought he
had been betrayed, but then he felt a warmth growing inside. The pains he had
endured over the past few weeks began to subside, and he felt himself growing
stronger. The green glow of his eyes burned brighter, and his anger turned into
rage. When his rage absolutely overtook him, an unknown power began to seep
from his bones. The sickly green light emanated from his eyes as an aura of
power surrounded him. In an outburst of inhuman rage, all of the rubble within
a fifty-foot radius incinerated into ash.
“I have freed thee from
thy spells of binding.” the Leviathan spoke, “Now go. Seek thy revenge!”
Tramping forth out of
the dust, Timur ascended a mighty flight of stairs that were carved into the
rock. Though pitch black, his path was lit by the green glow of his eyes. A
small sliver of light emanated from the top of a far-away exit. Adrenaline
coursed through his veins as he ascended the arduous staircase. When he finally
reached the summit, he was bathed in sunlight. High above he could see two
Solar Giants lighting up the sky from either end of a valley he could see far
below. It appeared the staircase had terminated at a cave opening near the top
of an extremely high mountain. Down in the center of the valley arose a great
and glorious city that was far more exquisite than any he had ever before laid
eyes upon.
Timur broke out of his
reverie and focused his thoughts. He knew that in the ruins of that once
glorious city he would find a way to eliminate his most recent obstacle. Though
Allan’s powers were already beginning to manifest, Timur instinctively knew
that there must be something hidden in that long-forsaken city that would give
him the answers he needed. It was there that he would find the key to
destroying this newly-emerging Seraph.
Mustering all of his
courage, Timur reached out to the urn that sat upon his desk. His forehead
began to sweat profusely as he clenched his teeth. Though he was ever loyal to
the darkness, it had been many years since he had felt the overwhelming
presence of the Leviathan. Removing the lid, he reached in and took a handful
of ashes. In his other palm sat a small reliquary. His stomach was tied up in
knots as he slowly poured the ashes into the small container. As he did so, he
closed his eyes and focused all of his energy upon the ashes. That familiar
sickly-green light escaped behind the slits of his eyelids as the aura
surrounded him. In a flash of brilliant green light, Timur and the reliquary
were gone.