Marked for Vengeance (34 page)

The next to
arrive were the Elders, Prolificent and Diamort, whom Alyx had already met that
afternoon. They strode into the gathering area from the hill behind them,
wearing black robes and darkened expressions, perhaps mirroring the tone of the
meeting that night. 

As soon as the
other Protectors spotted them, their chat parties ended, and they rushed to
find a seat to sit in respectful silence. But they weren’t the only ones. The
humans also went silent to heed their overwhelming presence.

The Elders
stepped onto the raised platform and made their way to the back, left corner,
stopping with their hands clasped in front of their robes. Prolificent’s black
button eyes took in the sparse crowd and rested on the Asian man, narrowing,
none too pleased by his casual attire. The man didn’t seem fazed by it. However,
Alyx’s insides trembled from merely witnessing the disparaging glare.

In the minutes
that followed, an older bald man emerged from the tents clutching a tall, twisted
cane. The only hair he possessed was a long, black beard that lay atop his
white robe.

Like the Elders,
he also had an overwhelming presence, but his jovial demeanor put her soul at
ease. His dark, deep set eyes sparkled and had permanent crease lines beside
them from where he held a slight, pleasant grin. As he approached the stage, he
nodded a greeting at the humans who welcomed him with enthusiastic waves.

He made his way
onto the platform and stood on the opposite side of the Elders. Prolificent
immediately motioned for him to come hither, and the old man turned his head
away.

Did he just
…
ignore
him?
Alyx thought, and her insides trembled again. She couldn’t believe he would
dare
do such a thing.
Who is this man?

“Oman!”
Prolificent called, insistent not to be ignored.

Oman’s smile
flattened to a straight line, and he looked in his direction.

“I need to speak
with you.”     

Forcing the
smile to return to his face, he went to join him.

Prolificent
rested his hand on the old man’s shoulder and nudged him to turn their backs to
the crowd. They lowered their heads to whisper, and Oman cast a glance over his
shoulder at the Asian man and nodded with understanding. Their conversation
abruptly ended, and Oman returned to his side of the stage.

Ok, that was
weird.

Another old man
with a humped nose emerged from the tents. This one also had a long beard but
snowy white. A trending revealed itself with their leadership; they were all
bald with dark eyes, except the old men’s skin wasn’t as pale as the Elders and
possessed a human texture, wrinkled and imperfect. She imagined every crease in
their faces had an interesting story to tell, and the preceding days had more
than likely added a couple to their collection.

When he climbed
onto the platform, Oman spread his arms wide, inviting an embrace.

Prolificent
stepped to the front of the stage. “Thank you all for coming,” he roared over
the crowd, taking the lead, “all of our leadership has arrived, but are we
missing a few humans?”

“I believe we
are,” Diamort responded quietly.

Oman released
his friend and moved to Prolificent’s side, whispering behind a cupped hand.

Prolificent’s
brow rose with utter shock, and he hurried to convene with him for another
private conversation. While waiting for the meeting to continue, everyone
shifted in their seats. The wooden benches were hardly comfortable.

After a minute
of heavy whispers and disappointed scowls between the two men, Prolificent
faced the crowd once more. “It appears we will be minus a few this evening,” he
said with irritated undertones. “One of our humans was hurt during their travel
here and isn’t well enough to attend, one of them is seeing to his needs, one
is asleep, and the other refuses to come to the gathering. Nevertheless, we
will commence as planned.

Alyx slumped on
the bench. His words had crushed her hopes of seeing Isaac tonight. But even
greater than her disappointment was the harsh realization that he hadn’t been
healed like her. The thought of him continuing to suffer twisted her stomach into
a knot.

“I will turn the
floor over to Oman who is a Spirit Guide. He will tell you more about why this
island was created and introduce our leadership. I expect all of you to give
him your full attention.”

He stepped back
into place beside Diamort, and Oman came forward. “Hello, all, and welcome,” Oman
said with a voice like the soft roll of thunder, deep and powerful, and he
rested his cane in front of him, crossing his hands over the top, “I know it
has not been an easy journey, physically or emotionally.

Everyone in the
crowd nodded in response, muttering words of agreement.

“But none of us
can deny that this is a beautiful place that our Creator prepared for us as a
safe haven, within a dimension these wicked beings cannot access. It is here
that we will find rest and protection while we develop our plan of action.”

The Asian man’s
hand shot into the air.

“Yes, Doctor.”

Doctor?
Alyx thought.
He
must be working on Isaac.
 

“Why is it that
we can access it, but they cannot?”

 “Excellent
question. You see, only certain individuals can be granted entry into a
dimension such as this. They must possess a certain essence about them, a
spiritual quality if you will.

Oman extended a hand
toward the Protectors. “For instance, Angels aren’t made in the same fashion as
a human. They’re created by their Elders outside the realm of Earth, and their
souls and bodies have more of a spiritual composition. It’s interwoven into who
they are.

He lifted his
knobby finger into the air. “The only other kind, besides us spiritual beings,
that can access this dimension are humans like you. Your spiritual gifts are so
powerful, your auras
so
pure, you were able to pass through. This place
was created on holy ground, and the beasts who have invaded our beloved Earth
are unable to find us here. But despite its purity, like everything outside of
heaven, it cannot last forever. When we are done here, we must leave.

Alyx peered down
to her bare feet. She assumed they no longer wore shoes because an Angel’s
tough skin didn’t need protection from the elements, but it never occurred to
her that this was a holy place, and therefore shoes weren’t allowed.

“If you have no
more questions regarding this island, it is time for a short briefing of our
hierarchy here.”

Only silence
answered his invitation.

“Very well,
then. As Prolificent mentioned, I and my dear friend behind me are Spirit
Guides,” he said and stretched his hand toward his white-bearded counterpart.
“This is Malachai. We possess many abilities, but our main goal on this island
is to work with the humans on their gifts in hopes that they can aide us in
this war. I will soon introduce the ones who answer to me and Malachai will do
the same. As for who
we
answer to, we report directly to the Creator
Himself.” 

He rotated his
body toward the Elders, waving his hand in their direction. “Prolificent, whom
you’ve already met, and Diamort are the Elder Angels of Protection. As I just
mentioned, they created the Protectors in anticipation for the invasion. We
were pleased to see that their protégés performed flawlessly, or perhaps,
superbly
is a better description,” he said and hoisted his cane into the crook of his
elbow. “Let’s give them a round of applause,” he said as he clapped.

As the others in
the gathering place followed suit, the Protectors straightened their backs and
nodded appreciatively. Thankfully, Alyx’s cloak hid most of what was left of
her lashes, but she still turned her head away to hide the ones on her face.
She was the only Protector who
didn’t
perform ‘superbly’.

When the
clapping ceased, Cindra grasped Alyx’s hand in support.

Oman lowered his
cane to his side. “The Protectors report to the Elders, of course, who report
to the Arch Angel of Protection, Rielle. There are three Arch Angels over every
galaxy with a life-inhabiting planet – the Arch of Protection, the Arch of War,
and the Arch of Life and Death. They also report to the Creator, but you will
never see their presence here. They are ever watchful, however.

The arrogant man
with the shaved head raised his hand.

“Yes, Jeremiah?”

“The other Arch
Angels… the one of War, and Life and Death. Do they have Angels under them too?”

“The Arch Angel
of War does. His name is Lucius and the Elder that reports to him is Tidus. He
and his Warrior Angels will be here tomorrow.

With the mention
of the Warriors, Alyx’s stomach fluttered like a tiny frightened bird. The
Elders had already prepared them for their arrival, but she couldn’t help her
anxiety over it. They also said that their draws to their Marked were no longer
and would now be connected to their Warriors. For Alyx, this wasn’t the case.
She still felt every fiber of her soul connected to Isaac’s, if not stronger
than before.

“However, The
Arch Angels of Life and Death in every galaxy have no name and have no
Elders
under them. The
only one who has the privilege of laying eyes on them is our Creator. Not even
I
have seen them. They’re solely responsible for overseeing each human’s
transition from life into the afterlife – no matter where it’s spent. Regardless
of the grave circumstances we are under, they do not and
will
not
interfere with anything else. It is their position that the cards fall where
they may.

Prolificent
rolled his eyes, and Diamort dropped his gaze to his feet with a shake of his
head. Apparently this was not a popular notion. And why would it be? How could
these particular Arch Angels
not
step in as the others had done, to try
and avenge what these beings did to the human race?

“Now that I’ve
covered the leadership here,” Oman said, pointing the tip of his staff toward
the cluster of humans near the front, “the first gifted human introduced will
be Atticus. Please stand up, my child, and make your way to the pulpit.”

The peculiar man
with stringy hair rose from the bench and proceeded to the stage with his right
hand still shoved inside his pocket. He stopped by Oman’s side and continued to
stare at the floor. Oman’s long arm reached around the back of him for a
welcoming embrace. Atticus shrugged, indicting his discomfort, but didn’t
struggle against it.

“Gifts aren’t
necessarily an ability you’re born with or that manifests itself later in
life,” Oman continued, “they can be anything you have to offer that is useful to
our cause. Atticus’ happens to be in the form of inside information about the beasts’
plans and what they hope to accomplish here. I’m sure you can all conclude how
this is beneficial to us all. I’ll let Atticus take over from here.” 

Atticus peered
up at Oman who gave a quick nod of encouragement, backing away. His haunting
blue eyes scanned over the crowd, and his hand moved nervously inside his pocket.
“Hello,” he croaked, his voice tinged with apprehension, and cleared his
throat. He shifted on his feet and glanced back to Oman, seeking reassurance.

Oman gestured
for him to continue with a grin.

Atticus faced
the crowd with pressed eyelids. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead and
gleamed from the light of the torches.

Alyx bounced her
leg on the ground as she watched the strange man struggle. As odd as he seemed
to her, she felt the urge to run to his side and hold his hand.

“Oman is right,”
he said and reopened his eyes, his other hand clenching the side of his purple
robe as though it might float away, “I do have inside knowledge.

His gaze lifted
above their heads, unable to make eye contact for too long.  “These beings are
not from our world, or even our galaxy. From what I understand, they are a lot
like demonic entities. They have the ability to posses living creatures, human
and beast, as well as appear and disappear whenever they wish. They operate on
a completely different dimension, presumably the same one any other paranormal
entity would.”

Jeremiah raised
his hand.

He sure has a
lot of questions.

Atticus nodded
for him to proceed.

“How long have
these beasts been around?”

He shook his
head, his black hair swooshing around his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

Prolificent’s
voice reached out from the back of the stage. “These beings have been around
for some time. As a matter of fact, this isn’t the first galaxy they’ve
invaded. There were two others before this, and both sets of their Archs were unsuccessful
at preventing the hostile take-overs. The reason this time is so significant is
because this is the last human-inhabited galaxy in the universe. There were
only three. This is our last chance for justice.”

“Yes,” Oman
agreed. “We were unsuccessful during our other efforts to save those human souls
or to reclaim them. These beasts were created by someone else, someone dark and
wicked. Therefore, it was impossible for us, including our Creator, to see them
or even to cast them out. Neither the utterance of man through exorcism nor a
single divine ability of our gracious Creator can make these beings flee.