From Heaven To Earth (The Faith of the Fallen) (25 page)

The dead.

Small globes of light flitted closer and closer until they passed by them
and continued to where Dejanto stood. As one passed, a translucent naked man
faded into view.

“The light,” he said, “must go to the light.” He sauntered away and
became a globe of light again.

Drean knew without a doubt that “the light” was the being that killed
God. He guessed that the spirits could perceive something inherent of him that
he could not. Perhaps it meant a part of God was still alive, an indestructible
un-corruptible part of Him, that, or the being was everything God had once
been. Drean desired vengeance. Never once had he hated, but his Father’s death
had instilled and built it up within him. His muscles shook from the pressure
and begged for release.

Riell touched his arm and looked into his eyes, a reminder that she
cared. Drean calmed. If he gave his position away it would mean danger for her:
reason enough for him to put his want aside.

As the globes passed by, more men, women and children were visible. They
were all headed for the crater and gathered at the top of it. Soon a large
crowd of spirits attended it.

“Why are these imbeciles coming to me here?!” The voice of Dejanto could
be heard from the inside of the crater. “I am He, I am the Lord! I command you
to meld with my spirit in Heaven!”

“God-killer!”

Verill’s footfalls neared the crater.

The whispering ceased, and the globes of light vanished.

“Back to the task at hand,” he said. “Yes, I know they’re here. You don’t
have to tell me.”

Drean looked at Riell. She shrugged.

“Focus, Dejanto. Arise, Shrazz. I bind your wounds. Arise!”

Shrazz’s head exploded out of the ground. He roared and tried to pull
himself out.

“I may be of assistance,” Leoran said.

Leoran drew Shrazz out of the ground telepathically. The demon hovered in
the air caked with dirt. Leoran put him on the ground behind him, away from the
crater. Shrazz shook his body violently and flung most of the dirt off.

“Congratulations on your victory. It has earned you a leash.”

When he saw Leoran he growled and bared his teeth.

“No, you will not lay a hand on your master,” Leoran said.

At the word master Shrazz pounced.

Leoran raised his hand in the air, palm-facing Shrazz in a halting
motion. Shrazz stopped right in front of Leoran, his face inch’s from his.

“No, beast. I am not the one you want.”

“I... no beast, Keep.” Shrazz struggled to speak. Animalism had begun to
affect his mind.

“Don’t fight it Shrazz. Embrace that rage you feel inside.”

“I will not!” Shrazz growled.

“Perhaps you will recall your true nature after you taste your prey
again.” Leoran turned in the direction where Drean and Riell were.

Drean and Riell’s muscles became rigid, incapable of movement. All they
could do was watch. He lifted Gerald into the air, and left him hovering in
front of Shrazz.

“Yes, fools, I know you’re there.” Leoran chuckled. “I know you will enjoy
this. Feast Shrazz.”

At the sight of Gerald flame rose from Shrazz’s eyes. He seized him
immediately.

Gerald woke and struggled, but it was futile.

Shrazz inhaled deeply and shuddered with delight.

“Yes, you remember now,” Leoran commented.

Gerald closed his eyes and slumped over.

Shrazz’s body shuddered visibly, and he threw Gerald almost disdainfully
into the forest right before Verill tackled him.

Leoran leapt away instinctively and would have killed Verill instantly
had he not felt something odd emanate from Shrazz. Shrazz roared loudly and
then shrieked. He gripped his head in his claws and doubled over. Verill stood
and watched him.

The demon’s body is reacting to the energy. It looks like he could
ascend past that of a lesser divine at this rate.
Leoran smiled at this
notion. “Don’t fight it. Embrace it!” he said.

Shrazz’s body doubled in size and knocked Verill over. He scrambled away
in fear.

“Yes!” Leoran jumped far away to watch Shrazz from a safe distance.

Shrazz doubled in size again and thrashed and moaned. His neck and tail
elongated even more so than before. He whipped his tail over Leoran’s head and
ripped trees apart behind him. Leoran could not keep his surprise in check as
he viewed the destruction. He instinctively took a step away from the beast.

Oh my God,
Riell thought.

Leoran laughed.

“My God indeed.” He gaped at Shrazz appreciatively as two enormous wings
comprised of a rainbow of feathers grew from tendons on his back.

Shrazz’s snout shrank into his face and curved into a beak. Two long
horns sprang from either side of it. His legs fell away into ash as his body
became serpentine. His scales cracked and fell away to give way for new long
legs with webbed feet and six wiry arms with massive taloned human hands. He
cried out and let forth a geyser of flame into the night sky. Shrazz’s
movements were sluggish, and his eyes rolled back into his head. He vomited a
sulfuric smelling liquid that hissed when it hit the ground, and he collapsed
from exhaustion.

“Welcome to the ranks of the divine, beast,” Leoran said.

“He’s a vagaru, a faithwyrm,” Riell said.

“A what?” Drean stared at Shrazz in wonder.

“They are shapechangers. Corrupted divines. Abominations,” Riell said.

“Yes, Riell,” Leoran interrupted. “How ironic. Corrupted by gluttony. You
would think he would have been prudent, but it seems he is merely a hypocrite
like the rest of you.”

“Who are you?!” Drean yelled.

“Leoran,” he answered, turning at Drean’s inquisition. “And you’re Drean.
It’s wonderful that we finally get to meet face to face.”

The archangel that was closest to Lucifer.
Drean remembered him.
That
would make sense. How was he able to remain close to God after the war?

“Let Dejanto go! He doesn’t want anything to do with you!” he yelled at
him.

“Actually, angel, he’s the one that called out to me,” Leoran said, as he
turned back around to watch Shrazz. “I simply accepted his offering and put him
in my service,” Leoran said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“You lying bastard!” Riell screamed.

“I am the Father, you little wench.” He didn’t even turn to look at her.
“It is impossible for me to be a bastard.” Leoran laughed. “Enough of this.”
Leoran walked over to Shrazz and prodded him. “Shrazz awaken. It’s time for us
to leave.”

Shrazz yawned and stretched as a cat would after napping.

“There doesn’t seem to be a place for me to sit,” Leoran said after he
examined Shrazz’s back. “Now don’t move, wyrm. I would not want to conjure this
in the wrong spot.”

Shrazz stood still for him.

Leoran raised a hand. Tendrils of darkness extended from it and washed
over Shrazz’s back, sides and underbelly. It hardened and shaped into a black
leather saddle, trimmed in corrupted celestinite. Leoran settled on the saddle
and made himself comfortable.

“Very nice material.” He ran his hand up and down the seat and the
pommel. It could use a little more black though. Wouldn’t you say, Drean?”
Leoran grinned underneath his helmet.

“Go to Hell, Leoran.”

“See you there. If you’re quick enough that is. Fly, Shrazz. Seek out the
Faithstream.”

Verill walked out of the forest muttering. He had been watching the whole
time. Leoran stared at him.

“And who are you?” Leoran asked. “His old nemesis,” Leoran said after
looking him over. He dismounted.

“Kill him, Shrazz.”

Shrazz roared and attempted to tackle Verill. Verill liquefied and became
a massive black scaled snake: twice as long as Shrazz from head to tail. He
curled himself around the wyrm, squeezed and wrestled him to the ground. Shrazz
immolated himself and incinerated his opponent.

“I was in your head. You thought all of that out. Leaving yourself open
for him to use that specific strategy on you so you could foil it. You’re a
brilliant fighter even in this form.”

Shrazz growled a warning to Leoran: Drean and Riell had snuck to Gerald
to pull him out of the crater.

“I got excited and lost my concentration I suppose.”

Leoran exerted his will on them once again and they froze where they
stood with Gerald on their shoulders.

He walked over to them, liquid shadow collected in his hand and
solidified into a greatsword.

He pulled his arm back and stabbed Drean.

Drean watched as the blade liquefied and divided before it impaled him.
The sword looked like a twisted black tuning fork. Leoran pulled the sword
upright and it became normal.

I really cannot harm him.

“You know, I think I want to kill Riell in front of you first.” He lifted
the sword above his head with both hands to cut her down.

Shrazz struck him with his tail, jumped at him and held him down. Fingers
of his other hands molded into sharp spear points and he battered Leoran’s
armor.

Drean found he could move, drew Riell’s sword before she could say
anything and ran for Leoran as fast as he could. Her sword stung his hand, but
he gripped it and ran. He was going to kill him, for love of Riell, for the
hate of everything Leoran was and what the archangel would be if he did not.

“Beast! Release me!”

Shrazz roared in protest but complied.

Drean roared as he battered him with the blade, leaving dents in
Dejanto’s armor.

You try to hit him, Dejanto.

Leoran gave control to Dejanto. The black knight struck Drean on the
head, and Drean crumpled to the ground. Drean’s consciousness slipped from him,
but his love for Riell did not, his hate for Leoran did not. They swelled in
his unconsciousness.

He opened his eyes minutes later.

He saw Leoran on the other side of the crater with Shrazz. Riell knelt
before Shrazz. Drean was too weak to move.

“Swallow her whole, Shrazz.”

Drean heard Leoran’s command and saw Shrazz hesitate.

The angel struggled to stand.

“Do it, wyrm!” Leoran bellowed. “I command you!”

Shrazz opened his maw wide.

“No...” Drean rasped.

Shrazz dipped his neck down to scoop Riell up with his jaws.

Drean had to save Riell. He had to.

His desire and his abhorrence for Leoran swelled in him. As it did, he
felt a spark of divinity in him, energy he had not felt since God had taken his
wings.

A howl of despair left Drean’s lips. He felt new vigor and stood.

Simultaneously, snow white energy exploded from him and screeched though
the air for Shrazz and Leoran.

Shrazz dodged in time. Leoran did not.

His blast connected with the archangel: the tremendous force of the
impact toppled trees and deafened them all.

Shrazz flew out of the cloud of debris with Leoran on his back. The two
of them ascended into the night air.

Drean focused his emotion as he had before: his hands filled with white
flame born of his angelic energy. He hurled the fiery energy as Shrazz flew
higher. Shrazz’s arms and legs melded with his body, and he easily avoided
Drean’s blasts. They escaped.

Drean wailed like an infant until he blacked out.

Eliza beamed as she dressed for a night of dancing. Her latest piece, the
cause of her elation, was on her easel: Gerald gripping the wrists of the purple
demoness from his past and pushing them away from him with determination on his
face.

Eliza knew he had survived his encounter with Shrazz, and she knew he did
not want the demoness: he had surmounted all of his most dire struggles. It was
time to celebrate.

She wore a black tube top and a royal purple lacy skirt which had layers
of black lace beneath the purple. She put her hair up and decided to go without
make up: she didn’t need it to impress the crowd anyway.

When she made it outside she noticed it was much colder than usual. Like
winter had suddenly pushed summer aside to try to claim another season for
herself. She briskly walked to the club.

“Hey, Eliza,” the bouncer said and let her slip by. Cries of protest rang
up from the line of people waiting to get in.

“There’s not that many of them, Frankie,” Eliza said. “You should let
them in. It’s freezing out here.”

“Yeah. Alright.”

Eliza made her way onto the dance floor. Some clubbers recognized her and
gave her high fives, nods and smiles.

After dancing for several minutes she felt much warmer and after three
songs she needed a break. She put her balls next to her. Their glow ceased when
her hands left their cords. Someone dropped a bottle of water in her tip hat.

“Lookin’ especially good tonight, Eliza,” Bob, the club manager, said. He
wore a black and white Rage Against the Machine t-shirt and jeans.

“You shaved your head, Bob!”

“Ehh, needed a change. I’ll bring you some more water later, babe.”

“Thanks.”

He waved and walked on. Eliza saw a man hobbling toward him from the
crowd, blood seeped from a wound on his neck. Bob walked straight through the
man. The wounded man neared Eliza.

“Are... you alright?”

The man hissed at her, and scratched her arm.

Instinctively she grabbed a ball and swung at him. It connected with his
head. He moaned and held a hand on the spot; spidery light crept across his
skin from the area. His angry wrinkled face smiled at Eliza before it shattered
as if he were made of glass. The shards that were his remains vanished. Eliza
blinked and looked around: no one else had noticed.

Her poi balls’ usual prismatic glow swirled, brightened and pulsed. An
acute ache racked her brain, but quickly subsided and left a sense of
contentedness behind. She could only compare the feeling to how she felt after
having Gerald over for dinner: solace.

Throughout the evening as she danced, more strange people assaulted her.
As before she fended them off with her poi balls and watched their smiling faces
deteriorate before her.

At first she felt terrified, but after the third attack she came to enjoy
it: the rush of the fight and the warm feeling her victories gave her.

She concluded they were spirits drawn to her as Gerald had been, and
changed as he had been.

By the end of the evening she had accumulated more cash than ever before.
She noticed she hadn’t broken a sweat since her first break. Her body felt
warm, and as familiar faces came up to her to congratulate her with hugs and
kind words, her contentment turned to ecstasy. She knew it had something to do
with the poi balls and the spirits, but at that point she did not care. She
sat, enjoyed her body high and wished Gerald were with her.