Tried and Tested
Adapted from Michael’s Journal
And Samuel said,
“Has the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings
“Has the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings
and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the Lord?
Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice.”
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Despite feeling laden at the prophetic outlook confronting my son, I was aware that whatever was going to befall Mishael, at this stage of his faith and growth, was important to the Lord. It was so important that the Lord Himself had taken notice; He had given me His word to intervene in the child’s affairs. Albeit not a puppet master, the Lord had a purpose for the world, which He had destined even before its foundation was laid. I knew from serving Him the past six millennia that He was actively involved in affairs that He had allocated to His creatures to ensure that His involvement in these affairs fitted into a fulfilment of His purpose.
As was the case with His involvement in Mishael’s affairs to ensure that His will for Mishael would be fulfilled.
Two hours ago, I was in the sky with my angels. I was racing after my son when the Angel of the Lord appeared and blocked my way, effectively preventing me from pursuing the former. The Lord’s glory shone, illuminating the endless expanse of the firmament. I would have prostrated myself but for the fact that we were in the air.
“The Lord, my God,” I worshiped reverentially. My gaze was fixated on His glory. I realized I could no longer see any of the other angels around me. I was alone with the Lord.
The Lord spoke to my mind. His voice was unmistakable, transcendent and, as always, gentle but authoritative: “I know My plans for Mishael. He has much to learn and, for My name’s sake, his faith shall be tested as never before. Lucifer has asked to test him, and I have granted his request. Mishael will suffer at his hands but, in the end, I will refine him through his suffering and My discipline. For this is My will, that the ones I love I also chasten for My glory. Go henceforth to New Canaan, at sunrise, and take My servant, Gabriel, with you unseen. Take My servant, Ariel, also, for Ariel will be a source of help and comfort for Mishael. Do nothing of your own accord but only that which I shall show you. I shall be with you always.”
As soon as He had given me His instructions, the Angel of the Lord left me. The Lord’s glory had also departed from me. I was, once again, in the company of my angels.
“We’re wasting precious time,” Gabriel was in the midst of saying. “We must go after the fledgling. He doesn’t realize that he’s in a lot of danger. What’s more, he’s still not fully recovered. In a matter of minutes, he’ll depreciate what little is left of his strength to retain his angelic form. Without his angelic powers, he’s not going to be able to defend himself from any danger Lucifer’s planning to sow in his path.”
I stopped him. “No, Mish has made his choice, and it’s not our place to subvert his right to exercise his free will. He must also fulfil the tasks for which the Lord has created and ordained him. The Lord has work for us also but, in the meantime, we must return to base and reorganize.”
It was roll call. Back at Headquarters, I reassigned the myriad tasks, related to earth’s affairs, to the angels in our unit. After speeding them on their various labours, I privately confided in Gabriel and Ariel what the Lord had commanded of them.
“You were in the Lord’s glory,” Gabriel maintained.
I nodded.
“What’s His command?”
“We’re to keep an eye on the child unseen,” I answered, my mood solemn. “We shall depart for District 11 in an hour.”
I turned to Ariel; he was Gabriel’s warrior, an esteemed and honoured member of his race and second only to his brother, Mishael, in courage and faith. Nevertheless, guileless in obedience and servitude, in addition to being a master at sword work, the sylph-like Ariel was our most dependable Halfling – a soldier of superlative character, skills and traits. He and Mish were raised as the Lord’s warriors from the time of their creation; they were raised on a staple diet of our company’s creed: purity and faithfulness, and loyalty and obedience. Ariel had dedicated his life and service to exemplifying this creed from the time he joined our family six years ago. He was rewarded for his dedication by being conferred a management ranking among his race four years ago.
“Mika,” he said to me boldly, “you are Mishael’s General and a beloved one at that. Notwithstanding your own love for my sibling, I cannot help but wonder at your insouciance toward his abduction . . . abduction by the infernal lord of the nether kingdom, by Lucifer himself.”
Ariel’s Commander appeared struck with astonishment at his son.
“Ari Benrubi,” he chided, “wherefore have you not checked your impudence? This is uncharacteristic . . . you will apologize to your General at once.”
I placed the back of my hand against Riel’s bosom: “Let the child speak freely, Gabriel. Is Ariel’s misunderstanding of me not caused by anxiety? And does it not speak to his immeasurable love for his kinsman?”
I clasped Ariel’s neck with my hands: “Ari, what you’ve described as insouciance is, to wit, my failing attempt at remaining calm for all your sakes. But what does anxiety, and demonstrating its sentiment, accomplish? Our beloved is in Yah’s hands: of this I’m certain for Ehyeh’s Word is truth. As His Word sanctifies us, we must abide by His Word. It is this we must believe, as we’ve always done.”
“I apologize, Mika,” Ariel whispered. “And I’m mortified. My service to the Lord and this company remains my only devotion and commitment. In particular, at this time, to assist with locating my brother, Mishael, before he’s lost to us forever.”
“And I’m proud to have you in our company,” I commended him, “for your service is indispensable . . . to both Yah and this company. Surely Yah has work for you as well.”
Thereafter, the leader of the kindred stooped before me.
I placed my right hand on his crown and began to anoint him with an extra measure of the Lord’s power and strength. He was going to need it.
“You shall travel to New Canaan with Gabriel and me,” I instructed him. “At the appointed time, you shall endeavour to be of assistance to Mishael. This you shall provide, loving him with all your heart, mind and soul, whatever the cost. The Lord has prophesied that Mishael will be depending on you for his life.”
Henceforth, Gabriel and I knelt down together with our underling and all of us made supplication for the Lord’s anointing.
Gabriel was first to speak when we had risen from the floor. He intonated with urgency: “Why do I get the feeling that this is not going to fare well for anybody? God be with us all.”
There was nothing I could have said or done to appease Gabriel. The Lord’s prophecy for Mish was set in stone. All of the Lord’s prophecies were as inexorable as His will was incontrovertible. But they were balanced by His immutable love and justice. I knew I must trust in the Lord as never before.
We had teleported to New Canaan before dawn. With the Lord’s guidance, we had found Mishael in the midst of the inhabitants of the One-world capital. And with His knowledge, we were able to distinguish the few Tribulation Saints from the agents and employees of the Antichrist, who were assembled below us. It was a large crowd, ever swelling in volume, which was assembling in what appeared to be a warehouse. For now, however, the warehouse was a makeshift Town Hall. Something unkind, that would ostensibly break the child’s heart, was about to happen. We realized this as soon as we saw the Lord’s saints in manacles.
Ariel, Gabriel and I were hovering around the rafters. We were invisible for that was what the Lord had commanded of us. I warned my warriors to make no ill-considered move until the Lord had given His explicit orders.
“Achante,” Mishael exclaimed.
“Misha,” a young woman replied.
The two friends were soon reacquainting themselves, enveloped in each other’s embrace.
“What’s going on, Misha?” the young woman asked. “You look troubled. And why do you have all these bruises on you?”
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| "What's going on, Misha?" |
“I . . . had a fall,” Mish replied. “That’s all. Don’t worry about me. But I did spend the entire night looking for you and your father. Are you all right?”
“Of course, I’m all right,” the girl replied. “Why wouldn’t I be? Ah, Mish, you’re always so sweet to me, always looking out for me. But why were you looking for me?”
The child shook his head, but tears had already formed in his eyes. He started to reply, but he seemed lost for words, as if he had secrets he couldn’t share: “I thought . . . I was told . . . I was afraid . . . never mind. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
A young man joined them not long after.
“Hey, Misha, you remember my brother, Actaeon, don’t you?” the girl asked.
Mish nodded. “Hey,” he said.
The young man, Actaeon, returned the formality. He, too, appeared to be harbouring a secret. I could tell.
Mish took the girl aside. “Time’s running out, Achante,” he told her. “Have you given any further consideration to what we talked about last month? I’m sorry I haven’t been in contact. I . . . have been away. But I always kept you in my mind and heart.”
Achante shook her head. “Oh, Misha,” she replied, “I don’t know. I just don’t know if I’m brave enough. And it all sounds like a very nice fairy tale, but a fairy tale just the same. I really don’t know if I can do the whole trusting in Jesus-thing, you know.”
Mish nodded, looking sad. He threw his arms around her once more.
“If you need more time . . . ,” he suggested. “Can we get out of here? I just want to talk.”
Achante shook her head. “I can’t, at least not right now,” she replied. “You shouldn’t even be here. Do you have any idea what this place is, what’s about to take place?”
Mish shook his head innocently.
“You really don’t know, do you?” the young woman maintained, lowering the pitch and tone of her voice. “You’ve no idea. Dad . . . Luc; he was arrested this morning . . . just after midnight, I mean . . . along with his friends from the church.”
“Arrested?” Mish exclaimed.
The young woman clutched my son’s wrist with her right hand and continued in an urgent tone: “You shouldn’t be here, Misha. This is no place for someone as sensitive and innocent as you. You . . . you should go away . . . go back to where you came from. Leave New Canaan forever. Now, Misha, before it’s too late.”
Once more, the child shook his head. And, then, he stepped back from her, stunned.
“When did you receive the Mark?” he stammered, glaring at her wrist. “Why would you?”
He pinched his nose to shore back his tears.
“I’m sorry, Misha,” the girl cried. “I know I’m weak. But I couldn’t let them do to me what they did to Luc. I couldn’t let them lock me up. I couldn’t let them behead me. I was scared. It’s all over for me; I know this. But it’s not over for you. But you must leave . . . run away and hide. It’s too dangerous for you to be here. They’re looking for you, Misha. Lots of people are looking for you. That’s why you must go now. Go, while there’s still time.”
Someone had taken hold of the proscenium at the centre of the hall. He began to make his announcement just as Mish was about to flee. However, the mention of prisoners would halt the child, changing his mind. He decided to tarry a while to listen to the rest of the announcement.
Two men in Balaclavas entered the stage from the side wings. Moving to the back without a word, they gripped the edges of a large tarpaulin before unfurling it to reveal a large wooden guillotine. A dozen more of the Antichrist’s contraptions of terrorism were afterward unveiled, one after another. The sight of the guillotines instilled such horror in the hearts of the throng of onlookers that a hush abruptly swept over the assembly.
Some heads started shaking in silent revolt, others hung down in shame and remorse. Several of the women clutched their chests in disbelief.
I believe the Little One’s heart was just about riven when he saw the men and women marched toward the guillotines. He was acquainted with every one of these nine saints on their way to being martyred this day for their belief in the Lord. He had shared with them meals, conversations, and the message of the sacrifice on the cross of the Lord Jesus Christ, from the time I assigned him to police and guard the New Canaan district eleven months ago.
“No,” he whispered, recognizing Luc Montagna, and the Hamadas, Rais and Persis, among the condemned prisoners. “Oh no; no, no, no.”
Around him, the crowd was paying close attention to the announcer. He was delivering the raison d’être for the early morning’s special Town Hall meeting.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Spiros Konstantinopoulos, as you know, and I’m your emcee this morning,” said the announcer. “I’m standing here on behalf of the Global Unity and of our illustrious leader. Before proceeding further, we want, first and foremost, to commend the hard work of the inhabitants of New Canaan for, without your cooperation, we would not have been able to capture these traitors of the leader of the G.U. Although we have offered them countless opportunities to denounce their seditious beliefs and renounce Jesus Christ, they have refused. They have also refused membership in our One-world Order, for they have declined to be identified with our lauded leader, by bearing his number, his name or the loyalty marker on their heads or right hands. Thence have they been accorded their due process of law and found guilty of high treason. We regret to hand down their due punishment this morning, which is beheading – the first to be meted out to a denizen of New Canaan. This is, indeed, a day of infamy for our honourable city.”
While the announcement was still in session, the crowd became parted in the middle. Actaeon was elbowing his way through with several of the Antichrist’s agents in tow. Some in the crowd began to push back in protest: Hey, watch it . . . Such uncivil conduct . . . How arrogant of you . . . Do you mind, bud, you’re stepping on my toes . . .
“Hallo, what’s going on over there?” the emcee on the stage hollered, sounding annoyed. “Please, can we have some calm here? We’re trying to carry out an executive order. Oh, for goodness’ sakes, where are the authorities when you need them?”
Actaeon’s party reached the Little One.
“That’s him,” he informed the Antichrist’s agents, pointing a steady finger at Mish. “Over there. He’s one of them. He’s a Jesus believer.”
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| "He's a Jesus believer." |
For a brief moment, Mish appeared to be in a fugue state, unable to speak or believe this egregious betrayal of friendship. He glanced over at Achante, who was shaking her head, looking sorry but helpless to do anything. Let down, he glanced back at her brother who was wearing an antipathetic grin.
“Did you do this?” Mish found his voice and snarled at the unfeeling son. “He’s your own father. How could you betray your own father?”
“Run, Misha,” Achante cried as she became swallowed up and swept away by the surge of panicked humans burgeoning around her. “Save yourself before it’s too late.”
The pandemonium escalated when many more in the crowd began to scatter. Men in uniforms surfaced from the four corners of the building, blowing their whistles to try to restore order and prevent the assembly from fragmenting into total chaos.
“Get out of here, youngling,” Gabriel whispered at that moment. I held him back, shaking my head.
“Peace, be still,” I reprimanded him. “Or if not, you should take yourself back to base.”
“This is Lucifer’s trap,” he replied, “and he’s walking right into it.”
“It’s not our time,” I reminded him. “Have you any regard for our chain of command?”
Gabriel nodded. “You know I do.”
“Then, peace, be patient,” I encouraged him.
Our child had taken flight, but not for having heard Gabriel’s warning. To our dismay, an unplanned participation in a fisticuff with an agent, one from the Antichrist’s counter-insurgency forces, would result in his safety and identity being compromised. Right away, an order for Mishael’s arrest was issued, putting him on the lam.
“Attention all units,” we heard the agent notify into his walkie-talkie, “keep a lookout for another dissident: male, five-ten or -eleven, brown hair, blue eyes, approximately one hundred and sixty pounds; aged between twenty-three and twenty-five; last seen wearing a brown leather trench coat, white T-shirt and black denim jeans, and heading toward the aqueduct in Zone 66. Residents believe he is known around the district as Misha Ben-Rubin; that’s B-E-N-hyphen-R-U-B-I-N. He rents an apartment in Millennium Towers, four blocks from the Silver Phoenix building where he works as a book restorer. This is his day job. Subject is also an army reserve attached to the enemy forces, to the IDF. He may, therefore, be armed. I repeat. Subject may be armed and dangerous, so approach with caution. All units, you have permission to shoot on sight.”
That’s too much accurate information, I thought to myself, shaking my head.
“His identity’s been breached,” I stated to Gabriel. “He’s not going to be able to operate safely here again.”
Gabriel nodded: “But it’s his immediate safety that’s our main concern now. He’s in serious trouble . . . from every corner. Look, the child isn’t even trying to change, which can only mean he knows that every iota of his energy has been spent from his revelry . . . and from his misguided all-night search for Miss Montagna. I’m concerned for his safety. Mika, if we don’t move in and remove him right now, this day may end badly for him, for all of us.”
“Riel, don’t you think I’m just as anxious as you are? The Lord’s will be done,” I reiterated.
In the nick of time, I received a word from the Lord; at His prompting, I commanded Ariel to track our child’s course. Ariel parted from us while we continued to follow our angels closely, remaining in our invisible state.
Assuming his material body and human personality, Ariel furtively followed the child into a secluded alley. There, he found Mish slumped dejectedly next to a gutter, ignoring the ill-omened footfalls behind and around him.
“I despise you,” my underling started to sob sorrowfully, bending over from his waist, “do you hear me, Lucifer? I despise your meddling. You couldn’t have just left them alone, could you? You had to ruin everything.”
Mish was inwardly despairing when he found himself interrupted by the arrival of a pair of soiled combat boots that were imposing themselves on his personal space. He fell back, stunned for the umpteenth time that morning. Quickly pulling himself together, he stared up at the shoes’ owner.
“Ariel,” he exclaimed.
I heard his sigh of relief.
“We must leave now, Mish,” Ariel warned. “You’re in grave danger from Lucifer. And Antichrist’s agents have been notified to arrest you.”
Ariel gave his brother his hand before pulling him up from the gutter. They fled, leaving the dim alley and speeding toward the CBD, the smattering of foot and vehicular traffic initiating a brand new day in this multiethnic melting pot of Antichrist’s New-world capital.
A few shops began their ritualistic window dressing, their latticed gates opened to quarter staff; a couple of buses embarked on their scheduled routes, pulling out lethargically from the depot, and a street-cleaning truck commenced its ear-splitting duty of scrubbing the gutters. In front of the boys, an emaciated and diseased-looking mongrel dog scuttled out of another alleyway, barking raucously at the fender of the truck. The truck reversed all at once and the dog’s legs fell under its massive tyres. Then, it reeled forward again, as if nothing had happened.
The animal’s playtime was cut short; the scraggy mastiff lay on the street, whimpering in pain and near death. Mish winced at the sight of its mashed legs. The roadkill was inchoate, however, for the beast’s other limbs were still twitching. It was breathing with a lot of difficulty, its breaths coming forth as wheezes. My underlings approached the mongrel, their eyes noticeably misted up. Then, they squatted by the animal’s head. Mustering their telepathic powers, they glared into its eyes, promptly putting it out of its misery.
It was shaky ground to throw the book at the truck driver for animal cruelty; surely he was not culpable for he had heard nothing of the dog’s barks over the cacophony in his earpieces. The latter was a contractual perk. With nothing more they could do, my underlings took off, their inhuman speed leaving the Antichrist’s agents mostly flat-footed.
They had made it past three office blocks when Ariel made a tangential turn toward a railway crossing.
“No, this way,” he had suggested to his brother, seizing him by his elbow. “They think you’re headed for the aqueduct.”
Mish heeded his older brother. At a culvert, he started to lag. He doubled over out of breath, his stamina remaining tentative owing to his recent trauma in the hands of Abaddon.
“Where exactly are we going, Ari?” he asked when he had breath again.
“Nowhere apparently,” a resonant voice loomed from the shadowy sky, in the custody of first light.
“Lucifer,” the boys exclaimed.
Without a moment’s hesitation or thought for his own safety, Ariel planted himself in front of his baby brother. He held up his arms at right angles with his body, making a crucifixion posture. Then, he ordered the child: “Take cover, Mish. Go. Now!”
The child grabbed his brother’s coat tail and tugged at it. “I won’t leave you,” he objected.
“Go, I said,” Ariel ordered again. “You’re the one he’s after. I’m not in any danger.”
As Mish darted toward the thick brakes all along the culvert, the older Halfling turned his head to the sky. “Stay back, Devil,” he warned.
The Devil leered. At the sight of the ancient Serpent diving toward his brother, Ariel attempted to transform himself; he wasn’t quick enough, for Lucifer would thrust his scimitar at him. The pommel struck the older sibling on the head, so hard that the youth was left tottering on the asphalt on all fours.
His path finally in the clear, the Devil swooped down on the child and seized him by his waist. They disappeared at the speed of light. I spotted them in the air and chased after them, all the time listening closely to my son’s pulse and heartbeat. The latter was racing.
Then, I remembered the Lord’s warning to await His orders; I knew that included restraining from interfering with Lucifer’s plans. For Lucifer must have his way with my son; he’d been granted permission.
I returned to Gabriel who had been ministering to the older underling. None the worse for wear, the latter recovered quickly. We were, then, able to catch up to Lucifer again.
“Stay the course,” I reminded my warriors. “The Lord’s not instructed us to do more than shadow the child.”
They nodded.
“I can never resist making an appearance when I’m invoked,” I heard the Evil One bragging. He was gliding out of the clouds. My child was visibly writhing in his arms.
“I wasn’t invoking you,” the child rejoined. “Did you not hear me? You’ve ruined them, ruined Luc’s family. I despise you.”
“Despise? That’s a strong word, young one,” the Evil One chortled. “You realize that not even your beloved Michael despises me? Even your Lord Jesus does not despise me. On the other hand, I know what it feels like to be filled with hate for someone. Such as the hate you’re simmering in right now. We’re very much alike, you and I. I can’t help but like you.”
“Liar,” Mishael returned, sounding unnerved. “You don’t know what that means. You like no one but yourself. By your own admission, there’s only hate in you. Hate and pride. Let go of me. I mean it, Lucifer: put me down this instant.”
“Pride? Dear me, you’ve bought into the Right Wingnuts’ propaganda and medieval superstition, too, I see,” the Devil fumed, “but I’ve had centuries of being maligned by the good Book and misinformed pew warmers, so I’m quite used to it. Patience, young one, I’ll release you by and by. We’re not far away.”
“You’re either insane or lying, or just full of it,” Mish scoffed, “if you really believe you’ve been wrongly maligned. You’re really sad. And are you trying to make some kind of statement wearing that hoodie? Aren’t you too old for that? What exactly are you? Man or dragon? Can’t you make up your mind?”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Lucifer vowed.
“Yeah,” my child replied snarkily. “I’m sure I will. The same way I found out just yesterday that you were the one that had engineered my assault nearly three years ago? You had me wounded with your sword? Why?”
“Soon,” Lucifer repeated.
“And how did you make my requisitions form disappear from one place and reappear in another, hah? Was it black magic? And why are you picking on me? For that matter, why are you doing this to any of us? What exactly do you want?”
“Soon, I said.”
“Yeah, you said. It’s always about you. Just so you know, my brothers are gaining on us. See, they’re right behind us. It’s all over for you.”
The Devil turned toward us; he grinned balefully before raising up a wall of flames surrounding us. The flames prevented us from following too closely.
“So innocent; you’re adorable enough to eat,” he sneered back at his captive. “But, I appreciate the warning.”
“Michael?” Mish yelled. “What did you just do, Lucifer? What did you do to my brothers? Answer me.”
Lucifer scoffed.
After that, I heard my son issue a threat to the Devil; however, his voice was evanescing: “If you harm any of them . . . if you so much as harm a feather – I give you my word – I’ll make you pay. You will pay.”
In the meantime, the flames rose and raged round us. My son’s voice continued to fade.
We heard nothing more as we battled the flames containing us. We were losing precious minutes, not to mention a sense of where the child was being taken.
“Lord,” I beseeched urgently, “You gave me Your word to be with us through all of this. Help us, please.”
A driving rain burst forth from heaven and the wall of flames gradually died out.
“Where are they?” Gabriel asked, spinning in every direction. “Do you see them?”
Ariel’s head shook in reply. I focused on my son to try to pick up the slightest trace of his voice or pulse. I heard nothing.
When I realized that the child had been taken out of the range of my hearing, we decided to go our separate ways: I took the eastern route toward Asia, Gabriel headed south toward Africa and Ariel departed for North America. None of us were aware that the Lord’s Holy Spirit had been guiding Ariel to his sibling. According to Ariel, several hours had elapsed by the time he reached the Devil’s lair.
“Welcome, Ariel,” the Devil greeted on the Halfling’s arrival. He confiscated the latter’s Bushido and rapier with one swift movement of his arm, flinging them out of reach. “I do hate it when your kind sneaks up on me. At least, you seem game for an open contest.”
“Always,” Ariel replied, stepping into an open arena, a miniaturized facsimile of the Roman Colosseum. He assessed the place and, then, said to the Devil: “You had better be kidding me. This had better not be a death match.”
“Where is he?” he demanded boldly. “Where’s Mishael?”
“By and by,” the Devil replied. “Here, have a seat with the rest of my guests.”
“I have neither the interest nor the time, Devil,” Ariel replied.
“Sit down, I said,” the Devil ordered bossily. “If you want the nipper back alive, you will do as you’re told.”
There was a growl and a loud noise, followed by bone chilling screams. The screams persisted for a very long time. What’s going on? Ariel wondered, feeling out of place among Lucifer’s angels and other entities of the demonic variety. Their jeers and boos rose to his ears.
“Mishka,” Ariel whispered, recognizing the source of the distress. Seized by a fear and dread for his sibling’s safety, he became increasingly piqued by the beastly cacophony ravishing his ears.
“Hideous,” he growled back at the mob.
A series of protracted and frenetic wailing ensued. The wails would start and stop and, then, start and stop again. And again and again.
“Mishael,” Ariel whispered before protesting to his host: “He can’t defend himself. He’s not your equal in power, for he’s now nothing more than a human being; surely, a mere child in human years. Even you must see fit to stop the torture. Do you hear me, Satan? You had better not do anything to harm my brother more than you’ve been permitted, or heaven will unleash its wrath upon you. Are you paying attention, you accursed being? You’re going to kill him. You’re killing him.”
His pleas eschewed, Ariel would be forced to listen to the convoluted wailing run its course, until its benefactor’s voice became hoarse and inaudible and, finally, silence swept the ambiance athwart. Silence was typically equated with uncertainty and, thence, a different fear, a fear shrouded by what was unknowable, gripped Ariel anew.
Collapsing his head in his hands, the Halfling agonized over his powerlessness. Grudgingly, he turned toward the unholy one.
“What’s going on, Lucifer?” he asked, his spirit dampening. “What are they doing to my brother?”
Lucifer snickered. “Not so cocksure now, are you, but you’ll know soon enough,” he replied coldly.
“I really have no desire to know,” Ariel stated, “so abort it. Demand that your minions abort it immediately, Lucifer. Please. I’m appealing to your reason. He won’t be able to live through this. My brother’s poorly. He’s extremely weak. His angelic powers are all but nearly effete. It’s all on account of what your disciple, Abaddon, had done to him. There’s no glory in kicking a foe when he’s down, Satan. Just let my brother go. Please. Give him back to me. Give our beloved back to us. But if not, tell your minions to take me in my brother’s stead. You can do to me whatever you will.”
Once again, the Devil ignored him.
For some time, nothing appeared to be happening. Then, a gate opened, setting free a motley of evil spirits tripping over one another through it. Mish trailed behind them, in captivity in chains, every piece of his clothing shredded and stained with his own blood. He appeared too frail to resist being towed along by the long and heavy chains around his neck and ankle. His lean but powerful body had long been rendered bloody, flogged and nearly lifeless, the skin on his back and legs flailing loosely from his beatings. When he was a short distance from Lucifer, he was ripped of his outer clothing, in the customarily depraved manner of demons to disgrace the Lord’s disciples and, afterward, picked up before being tossed into the air.
As he landed at Lucifer’s feet, he hollered, feeling his bones crunch in his back. The rabble became rowdier, drowning out his sobs.
Ariel stood up from the concrete step and looked on in horror. He shrieked at Satan: “You beast, you fiend. He’s a boy . . . he’s just a boy.”
“Not so,” the Evil One snapped. “He’s no mere boy, but a warrior. He’s a soldier, and an extremely tenacious and fierce killer.”
Ari felt tears stinging his eyes. He snarled in agony at the Evil One: “You may aspire to world worship, Devil, but you’ll never be anything like the Lord, Yahushua, the only true God of heaven and earth. There’s no justice in you; there’s no fair play or mercy in you. Or compassion. You’ll never be God. Never.”
“How dare you,” Lucifer fumed. “Do you know whom you’re talking to? I could turn you into a pile of ashes for daring to rebuke me.”
Ari snarled again: “No, you couldn’t, Lucifer. You’re a liar. You couldn’t do anything to me that the Lord our God has not permitted.”
But that was as far as the Halfling would go to censure the Prince of Darkness. He had enough learning and discretion not to be earnest with his tongue. Turning from the Devil, he scrambled over the shoulders of the throng to try to reach his sibling. However, several demonic spirits swiftly leapt onto him. They pinned him to the gravel and swallowed him up in their scrum.
“No,” Ariel exclaimed, baulking at the affront. “Take your hands off me. You’re an abomination, all of you.”
The demonic spirits had taken to attacking the older boy, pulling and tearing apart his clothing. Then, Ari spotted his younger sibling through the cracks between their legs: below the steps of the amphitheatre, Mish was lying still on his back.
“Ariel,” Mish cried, recognizing the older boy’s voice. “Ari. Where are you? I can’t see you. I can’t see anything.”
The younger boy continued to hear Ari’s howls. Ari was cautioning the evil spirits: “Get off me, I said. If anything bad happens to my brother, I will destroy the lot of you. I give you my word. Now take your murderous hands off me.”
Fearful for his sibling’s life, the younger boy began to admonish the unclean spirits: “Leave him alone. All of you. Lucifer, you leave my brother alone; do you hear me? It’s enough. It’s enough. Ari, don’t fight back. Please. They’ll hurt you. Ari, can you hear me? I can’t see you. Where are you?”
By now, Lucifer had risen from his front-and-centre perch. Incited by the demonic throng unnaturally riveted on the child’s heartrending winces, he menaced the child some more, nudging his ribs several times with his foot.
“Too easy,” he chuckled. “But it’s such a shame. I had looked forward to welcoming you into my extended family. That’s not to be, I see. My children, let them go. The show, I regret to say, is over.”
The mob took its time to empty out the arena.
“Oy you!” Lucifer yelled. “Demons, reprobate offspring of angels: hands off the older boy. Now. Who gave you permission to touch him? We’re leaving; get a move on, I said. Now!”
When, at last, Ariel found himself on his own, he shunted to his brother. He lightly touched the child’s swollen cheeks. “Mishka,” he whispered.
Mish shrieked at him frightfully.
“Take it easy, Mish,” Ariel soothed. “Shh, shh. It’s just me. It’s Ari. There’s no one else here. Nobody’s going to hurt you anymore. Shh.”
Removing his coat, Ariel deftly manoeuvred it to create a swathe for the child’s battered body. He would feel his limbs quivering all the time the younger sibling was being supported in his arms. After that, he tore a broad strip of cloth from his sleeve and made a tourniquet with it to protect the child’s bloody eye sockets. Still soothing his weeping brother, he gently lifted him onto his lap and, then, wound his arms around his chest.
“O Lord; O God, my God, Yahushua,” Ariel started praying, but he could think of no words that would aptly describe the horror of what he’d seen and was feeling. All he could do was feel a claw perpetually stuck in his throat so that he was preoccupied with choking back his tears. He felt the child’s fresh tears that were uncontrollably rolling down his arms, tears that were mingled with the blood from the empty sockets.
After some time, he heard the child speak, sounding more sedate: “Ari.”
“I’m right here, Mish,” Ariel replied.
“Are you okay?” Mish asked. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
“No, I’m faring much better than you,” he replied again.
“Can you free my neck of this shackle?” the child, then, asked. “It’s strangling me.”
Ariel needed a bit of time to collect his composure before he said: “I’m sorry. Yes, Mish, of course. What was I thinking?”
His fingers began wrenching at the chain to break it apart but its resilience held up against his might. As did the chain around the child’s ankle.
“Why won’t they budge?” he wondered, shaking his head, his fingers tugging at the chains with vigour.
Mish proceeded to aid his brother. His fingers curled on the wrought iron fastener round his neck. “Get this off me, Ariel,” he cried frantically. “Please, get it off me.”
“I’m trying, Mish,” Ariel replied, soothing him. “You can tell that I’m doing all I can, but it’s just not yielding.”
“Not yielding to the strength of a powerful angel?” Mish grimaced. “How can this be? It’s not enchanted, is it? Lucifer hasn’t cast a spell on it, has he? That’s exactly it, isn’t that? This is the Devil’s doing?”
Ariel shook his head. He dropped the chains down. “I don’t know, Mish,” he cried. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’ve failed you miserably.”
“Never mind, Ari,” Mish smiled thoughtfully. “You did your best. Just hold me.”
“I am, Mish,” Ariel replied. “I am holding you. You can feel my arms round you, can’t you? And I’m not letting go. I’m not going to leave you alone. Shh. Don’t cry, baby brother. I’m never leaving you alone again.”
The sky was filling up with stormy clouds. A gust of wind beat down on them and shook the distant tree boughs. Then something hooted, and Ariel felt his brother’s heartbeats, throbbing frantically against his arms.
“Shh, shh,” he soothed. “It’s just an owl.”
“Are you sure?” Mish asked. “Perhaps Lucifer’s returned. Or one of his demons?”
“It’s an owl, Mishka,” Ariel averred. “Trust me. Lucifer’s not coming back tonight. Neither are his demons.”
“They took my boots, Ari,” Mish cried next. “The demons. They took my shoes.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Ariel consoled. “Shelumiel will get you new ones.”
“Did they take my socks, too?” the child asked. “I must have my socks. Are there socks on my feet, Ari?”
Ariel was silent. He was removing his heavy combat boots and thick woollen socks. Then, he gently put his socks on his brother.
“Ari,” Mish asked again. “Didn’t you hear me? Have I got any socks? I can’t see.”
“Yes, Mish,” Ari finally answered. “You have socks.”
“But they must be filthy by now,” the younger boy suggested.
“No,” his brother assured him, “they’re fairly clean. All right?”
“All right,” the Little One smiled.
“I didn’t turn to his side, you know,” he spoke again, after a while. “I didn’t turn to Lucifer’s side. I would never. He kept trying, of course, tempting me and making threats, and he even ordered his nasty spirits to beat me into submission. I told them I’d never turn my back on the Lord and, so, at last one of them took out my eyes. Tell Michael, Ari. Tell Michael I didn’t turn to his side.”
Ariel kissed his forehead: “You’ll be all right, my littlest brother. Michael’s on the way. You can tell him yourself.”
“No, Ari. I’m not going to make it,” the child insisted. “My body is broken in several places, I think. I dare not move. Please don’t panic, Ari, but I have to tell you something. I can no longer feel anything from my shoulders down, or in my legs, for that matter. I can only feel and move my arms. I could be wrong but I fear I might be paralyzed.
“But it’s going to be okay, Ari. I’m ready to die. I think I’ve fought a fairly good fight and, the end is something to look forward to, isn’t it – to be given a resurrection body and return to the Lord. I belong to the Lord . . . my life is His. In any case, I’m so tired of fighting scary monsters and evil spirits, you know. I’m trying to be brave but there are so many of them, it’s insane. I don’t know what’s been going on with me of late, why I’ve been finding myself powerless before these beings. I’ve tried every trick in the book, done everything I’ve been trained to do, but I find myself overwhelmed by them. And now, I’m ashamed to say that I’m afraid of them. I don’t regret anything though; I only regret that I won’t get to see Mika or Gabriel again – at least for a time. But I’m very grateful for the time we had last night. It’s not often that we get to hang out, get to let our hair down, without worrying about meeting Antichrist or demons in battle. I was so happy last night. We talked and told each other jokes. Gabriel shared some humorous anecdotes that made us laugh. I laughed so hard my adenoids ached. Gabriel isn’t all about stringent rules and uncompromising strictures as our kindred tend to think of him. We sang and danced afterward. Of course, you were there, too. Dad’s a very good dancer, like you. He has such lissome feet. Who knew? Everyone sees Mika as his General. To me, he’s just Dad. He’s just my gentle and attentive Dad. Perhaps they’re both a lot gentler in their dotage; I’m not saying they’re old and senile but they’ve been around for over six thousand years. They’re going to outlive me.”
The child had started to weep again. His brother shushed him, wiping away his tears.
“Where are they, Ari?” Mish cried, sounding desperate. “Why are they taking so long? Are they not coming? I can’t go if they’re not here. I haven’t said goodbye. I can’t go until I’ve said goodbye. That would be rude. I have to say goodbye to Mika. I have to tell him I love him. I don’t want him to be sad. I don’t want him to think I wasn’t thinking about him. I guess you’ll just have to tell them for me. Please, Ari. You must give me your word to tell Michael everything I’ve asked. I’ve caused so much trouble for him recently. I want him to be proud of me for a change.”
“Hey . . . what kind of talk is this, huh?” Ariel scolded affectionately. He blinked away his tears. “You’re not going to die. Your work isn’t finished yet, and the Lord isn’t going to let you die. I know you’re scared; I’m scared, too. But guess what? It’s humanly impossible to be fearless all the time. It’s okay to be afraid, I figure. It ensures that we’re on our guard and do not become careless. Only remember: the Evil Ones can’t do anything to you that the Lord, in His sovereign will, has not allowed. And what the Lord allows will never exceed what He knows you’re able to bear. So don’t talk anymore about dying, all right? You don’t know what the Lord’s will is . . .”
For some time now, Mish’s head had been shaking vehemently. He pleaded with his brother: “Will you stop talking, Ari, please, and listen to me? Please listen to me, will you? I have wages saved up, Ari: it’s in the top drawer of my armoire. I want you to have it. Please take it and make good use of it.”
Now his brother was scolding him: “Stop it, Mish, all right? You’re going to stop talking like this right now. You can’t give up now. Michael’s going to be here shortly. Gabriel, too. Do you want to disappoint them? Disappoint Michael? He’s making his way here as quickly as he can. Why, I can hear his footsteps even as we speak. When Michael gets here, he’s going to take good care of you. I promise you. Just stay with me, all right? You have to stay with me.”
Meanwhile, I was getting a summons from Gabriel. His telepathic voice was imploring me to be reunited with him.
