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Authors: Donovan Neal

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BOOK: Realm of the Dead
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"NOOO!!!!"

Tears streamed down his face. His hand tightened around his spear, piercing eyes blazing red with righteous fury, and his wrath so overflowed that he thought in his rage to destroy the whole city with fire. Tempted to wage open warfare against the celebrating Horde, Azaziel raised his spear to draw down Heaven's fire, but when he did so, El Pneuma restrained him and said, "Be still, my son, for this thing is of me. For behold the beginning of the end of Lucifer's claim on death." 

Azaziel then gritted his teeth and held his peace as bidden, and the Lord Pneuma with His own hand tore the veil of the temple and rent it in twain from the top to the bottom.  Moreover, the earth did quake, and the rocks also were tossed to and fro; and the tremors were such that all of the city and round about the region were moved from their foundations and the Lord caused the graves to open and many that were dead to walk free.

Lucifer frowned and the Horde grew quiet as they had not caused the quake. And the King of Pride grew anxious when he saw the resurrections, and said, "Let us go and see if our prize is indeed caged within the Realm of the Dead. And see if He stand as powerless as David in Paradise."

Chapter Eleven

Saved by Hope

Enoch crouched behind the emblazoned statues of honored poets and musicians. The king often said they reminded him of the principles that governed his people...of which the first and foremost was to worship El.

Two chamberlains chatted as they completed their rounds of the king's throne room, and Enoch waited with baited breath.

"Where is the king now?" the first said.

"He visits the angels in the tower before he sees to their dissolution."

"Is it not strange that they have not been submitted to the Burning?  Then all of Aesir could witness their actions.  Why are they not summoned to give account?"

The first attendant moved closer to Enoch, who held his breath, not sure if the act of breathing itself would alert his intrusion to the temple staff. The attendant came close enough to reach out and touch him. Enoch flattened himself against the chamber wall, hoping he might meld with the decorative images that adorned the throne chamber. His lungs began to slowly burn.

"It is a strange thing, indeed. Nevertheless, the king said they attempted to take a vessel of wrath. El hast reserved these seven vessels to be blown at the appointed time. They will bring wrath from the Creator, and El holds them in store to smite the rebel at the appointed time. Perhaps the angels wanted to unleash El's wrath before the time, and compel Him to honor His word when He hears the trumpets sound," the other said.

"Possibly, but I wonder what possible intentions could cause one to start a war. Without the Burning, we will never know."

The second attendant's burning body created shadows as he floated closer to Enoch. Any moment, his hiding place would be bathed in light and his position exposed. Enoch gritted his teeth as his lungs seared, bursting to suck in oxygen and quench their thirst for air.

"Are the vessels accounted for?" the first said.

"Aye. All seven are on the pedestal and accounted for. "Let us be off. We have other chambers to be arranged."

The two attendants took their leave, and Enoch opened his mouth and heaved warm air into his lungs in long gasps. He closed his eyes, thankful that he was not discovered, and tiptoed to a pedestal that held one of the trumpets of judgment. Picked it up. It looked simple enough...a burnished gold with light orange flames that emanated from it. Curiously, it was warm to the touch and heavy for a human. Enoch realized he would have to hurry, and he had not considered the weight was designed for angels and not men. Mentally smacking his forehead, he hefted the instrument and hastened back to Elijah. Quickly running to his bed chamber, he gave a sigh of accomplishment as he closed the door...not realizing Sherkanim of the king's guard watched him enter as he smuggled a trumpet of judgment into his room.

 

*   *   *

Hell fed upon Turiel. The Grigori had tried to mist, tried to escape the snarling clutches of Hell's tendrils but it was to no avail, for Hell was a creature designed to incarcerate Elohim. A place of torment devised to secure the most powerful from escape. And try as the Redactor might, he was powerless to flee.  Turiel's stylus and tome recorded his experiences, noting all that his eyes and ears observed, adding to the sum of knowledge the Grigori in Heaven possessed an expanding ledger of stenographic notes regarding Hell's behavior.

Turiel gritted his teeth until his jaws grew tired for the flames of the tendrils wore hundreds of small suction cups that clamped tightly and impaled his flesh with piercing barbed tongues. With each bite, they regurgitated acidic spittle into the captive's wounds while the octopi-like cups drained the life force from his kilnstone.  Each circular wound blistered the flesh as Hell injected parasitic larvae into its host.  Larvae that fed on the celestial flesh of angels.

Thus each angel, no matter their house, no matter their ability or station, bred Hell's carrion and became an everlasting source of food. Turiel, Eskalion, and the one-eyed Jerahmeel were now part of that food chain. Flies caught in the underworld that was the Realm of the Dead...flies that cried out in terror. New additions to the participants of Hell's choral chamber. A choral chamber swelled with nothing but the wailing and gnashing of teeth.

 

*   *   *

Far away, on Earth's surface, crows and all manner of birds flocked around the bodies of Dismas and Gestas.  The two men hung to the left and right of Yeshua. Flies and mosquitoes buzzed as the scent of death and blood invited vermin to take up residence, but creation would not sully the body of the Creator. Azaziel and his guard watched over the body of Yeshua to assure that nothing desecrated his body. 

Some of the Horde did not leave with Lucifer and stared at the spectacle men had accomplished in their blind arrogance.

Some members of the Horde were dazed, unsure of what to make of the death of the Eternal One.  Others were seemed saddened, though careful not to express emotion whilst in the midst of their enemies.  Azaziel had seen the face before. 

Faces of regret. 

Cauldrons of sorrow of a forlorn past and the futility to live knowing that death and judgment crept silently toward all that drew breath. Death, the invisible stalker and inevitable outcome for those that opposed God. For the Fallen had come to understand – knowing God would one day avenge Himself for their rebellion.

Although most of the Horde had departed, a measure of the Fallen stopped to gloat over the Son of God's death. 

And seeing so many of the Horde assembled, Azaziel grew weary of their presence and spoke. "Portiel go to and influence the chief leaders to remove the Lord's body and let us be done with this," Azaziel said.

Portiel did as commanded and the Jewish leaders heeded, not wanting to leave the bodies upon the crosses on the Sabbath day, (for that Sabbath day was a high day) besought Pilate that the men's legs might be broken and that they might be taken away.

Pilate consented and released soldiers to break their legs to hasten their deaths. And of the two that hung next to Yeshua, they did break their legs, but when they came to Yeshua and saw that He was already dead, they broke not His legs.

A member of the Horde then suggested to the Roman captain, to assure the death of the Nazarene, and moved by the voice of a fallen angel, the captain commanded his underling to do so.  Immediately, a soldier with a spear pierced the Lord's side and forthwith came thereout blood and water. And the Horde knew not that they fulfilled prophecy saying, a bone of Him shall not be broken. And again another scripture saith, they shall look on Him whom they pierced.

    And after this, Joseph of Arimathea, being a disciple of Yeshua but secretly for fear of the Jews, besought Pilate that he might take Yeshua's body and Pilate gave him leave. And there also came Nicodemus, which at the first came to Yeshua by night, and brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about a hundred-pound weight.

Rough hands removed the corpse from the cross and loving ones wound Him in linen clothes and covered Him with spices, as was the manner of the Jews to bury.  Now in the place where He was crucified, there was a garden; and in the garden was a new sepulcher wherein man was never laid, and there laid they Yeshua because of the Jews' preparation day; for the sepulcher was nigh at hand.

Azaziel and his soldiers hovered as those who wept prepared the body. Various members of the Horde watched also, but from afar mocking the group. 

"We have Him sealed as a spirit within the Realm of the Dead," one taunted.

"Behold, the eternal God is dead!" another said.

"Correction! One of the Godhead is dead, and now that we know we can slay one, we will slay the others!" a third said. But none of the Fallen dared to attack the mighty Azaziel and those with him. For they yet had respect to the power of the angels to injure them.

Cassiel, one of the twelve assigned as the Lord's guard, placed his hand on Azaziel's shoulder and noted how solemn he was as Joseph and Nicodemus rolled the stone into place. Soldiers from Pilate settled themselves to camp in front of the tomb after they impressed the wax Imperial seal of the Roman Empire over the stone of the sepulcher.

Cassiel stared at their surroundings. Men of the region had grown quiet as they prepared for the Sabbath.

"Azaziel..." Cassiel said, "the Lord is laid within. What would you have us do now? We have watched over His Grace since His birth by the virgin child.  The Great One no longer walks amongst these humans. Is not our charge dismissed?"

Azaziel looked upon the huge stone now sealed shut.  The seal of the Roman Empire warning all humans away under penalty of death if broached.

The High Prince of Issi sighed placing his hand on Cassiel's shoulder, "No, my friend. For with the Lord away from His mortal coil, He now walks where angelic hands cannot help, but we can abide faithful. For He hath promised He would after three days rise again.  I would see that we are ready to execute His commands when He does. We must all be ready to attend to the master when He returns. Therefore, I command scouts atop the grave here...here, and here."  Azaziel pointed above the sepulchers entrance, and to its east and west. "Keep watch. While Yeshua walks in Hell, the Horde is too distracted with His presence to attempt defilement of His body. We will make sure His mortal house until He returns."

Cassiel motioned to go when he stopped and spoke from over his shoulder. "We have witnessed both the birth and death of God in the Earth. Will He indeed return?"

Azaziel looked at the setting sun, remembering the timeline of the Lord. "The word of God will not return void, for if the Lord hath said it, He will certainly do it. Now go, my friend, and be about thy business."

"As you command, Lumazi," Cassiel replied.

Azaziel watched as Cassiel relayed the command and angelic guards took up their stations as ordered. Satisfied in their defensive position, the angel turned his face toward the sealed grave and walked into the Lord's tomb, passing through rock as if through gas and over to the linen that covered the body of the Lord. He moved to his master's lain head and unsheathed his sword, standing silently and stern-jawed in the dank black grave...an angelic sentinel – awaiting his Lord's return.

 

*   *   *

Elijah's eyes lit up when Enoch entered his room and jumped to his feet. "Do you have it?" he said.

Enoch nodded and grinned, then turned around and swirled his robes from off him.  Strapped to him was a trumpet of judgment tucked within the folds of his back. "But the Trumpet of Malakim was not in the king's chambers."

"Good," Elijah said. "We will find a way to locate and secure the trumpet, and then we will have what we need. "But we are not yet safe from the execution of our pla..."

A knock sounded on the door.

Elijah went to answer, but before he could do so, Sherkanim barged in and saw the golden trumpet of judgment strapped on Enoch's back.

"Thieves! Deceivers!" Sherkanim said. "By what reason should I not rend you where you stand for doing such a great evil toward us?" His hand halfway unsheathed his sword.

Elijah lifted his hands to calm him. "Because I believe you also suspect that Nephanos's mind is not well. Because I perceive by the spirit of the living God that thou dost know something is amiss with the king."

Sherkanim stepped back, and his eyes darted away from Elijah. He said nothing, but walked to the window and removed his hand from his sword.

Elijah continued. "You personally escorted Gabriel and Metatron to the Gate to depart. In all that time, didst thou suspect that either would steal from thy people?"

"Even if I hold what thou sayest as true, it fails to justify thy actions."

My friend, "I have no desire to blow the trumpet of judgment. In fact, there is another trumpet that belongs to one that I seek, and I would solicit thee to help acquire it for me."

Sherkanim turned with wrinkled brow as he processed the request, but Elijah did not shrink from his gaze. "By what madness would I consider to even do this thing?"

Elijah smiled. "Because if you do, you will reveal what I have come to know and Enoch has confirmed – that Nephanos is none other than his brother, Camael. He is not the true king."

Sherkanim's eyes narrowed and he walked past Elijah to Enoch and stared down at the little man. He extended his palms and waited, and Enoch placed the trumpet into the king's servant's hands.

"Thou knowest, King's Guard, that Camael crafted the horn of Malakim, and that an instrument crafted by a Seraph glows when in the presence of another instrument crafted by thy people. If we blow Gabriel's horn, it will show that he whom thou knowest as Nephanos is false, for once blown, the flames of its maker will glow. The sigil in his flames will tell the truth of the thing. It is the only way," Elijah said.

Sherkanim handled the trumpet of judgment. "Dost thou realize that blowing this instrument would release the wrath of the Lord?  Do you understand the destruction that but one of these seven trumpets can do?  They are not things to be trifled with."

All eyes fell to the trumpet. Elijah went to his friend and gripped each arm. "Then help us show the deceit that hides amidst the leadership of the Seraphim. Help us bring to pass the word of the Lord. Acquire the horn of Gabriel and when Camael is before the people, let us blow it to show him for who he is."

BOOK: Realm of the Dead
11.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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