Chapter Twenty-Three

 

The Plot Thickens

 

Annaleah found herself once more on the moonlit path in the woods that led to the clearing. The night air was soft and warm; the sensation of it blowing across her skin and through her hair was vivid and calming. She knew she was in Dreamtime again, even though the breeze and the dewy grass wet beneath her feet felt as real as her waking reality. As she walked along the path, a sense of profound peace fell upon her, settling in her heart and uplifting her spirit. The cicadas serenaded her as the clearing came into view. A single figure stood in the center waiting for her. She stood just out of the moon's light, letting the shadows fall upon her form. As she walked closer, Annaleah saw large black feathered wings folded loosely behind the figure's back. A sudden jolt of fear pulsed in her heart as she remembered the winged girl from her dreams with the Jorogumo.

"Don't be afraid, Annaleah," the winged girl said, "I am here to help you. Please come join me in the clearing. I promise, you’re safe." Pushing the fear from her heart, Annaleah made her way to the clearing, again noticing how her body felt. Instead of her small five-foot body, she felt tall and lean, her movements effortless and graceful. She saw flashing arcs of golden light pulsing in her arms and hands, her skin itself was paler and more luminous. Though the sensation of this body was strange and new to her, it also felt genuine, as if it were her true form that she had been locked out of all of her life.

“It is your true form, Annaleah," the woman said as Annaleah joined her in the clearing. "You have been made to forget it in your human world.” As Annaleah looked at Marchosias, she noticed the young woman’s eyes appeared as if their iris’ were swirling, colors undulating within them and blending into each other. The result was slightly mesmerizing. “I will explain,” she continued, her expression one of seriousness. “I am here to defend you, to fight by your side when the time comes.” She looked down at Annaleah’s arms, her eyes holding an apology. “I’m very sorry about your spider bites. I was busy fighting the Jorogumo in this realm, and I wasn't able to stop the spiders from crossing into your world. Nephila has been dealt with for what she did to you. She may try to attack you again, but for now she is unable."

Annaleah closed her eyes, and brought her hand up to her head as she tried to understand what was going on around her. There was so much to process. Both Satanael and Marchosias had mentioned fighting, a coming war, and now Marchosias was mentioning fighting beside her? She was confused, and a little scared, too.

"Marchosias, please, tell me what is going on," Annaleah asked the young woman, "I don't understand any of this. Why am I being taken to all these dream realms? Why are things coming out of my dreams to attack me? Is this real, or is this just a strange dream?"

Marchosias looked at her compassionately and drew in a deep breath and tented her hands under her chin. She appeared to be looking for a place to begin. "I know this is all confusing, but yes, this is all real. You have a special talent for walking into other realms of reality, due to who and what you are.”

Annaleah had heard this before from Satanael. What did they mean, who and what she was? She was just Annaleah Grace, no more, no less. She wasn’t any more special than anyone else. The truth was, she was afraid. Both the Jorogumo and Satanael had told her war was coming, and Marchosias said she would fight beside her. Who was she to fight anyone in any manner, let alone in a war? She was just a normal southern girl, a little peculiar in her ways, sure, but certainly not a person worthy of such visitations.

Everything was so overwhelming, so confusing. Tears welled up in her, and she fought them back, determined to find out what was going on.

Marchosias allowed Annaleah a moment to gather herself, her head tilted with concern as she watched Annaleah. “It is much easier for those of us who dwell in these realities to communicate with you in Dream Time, as it is a special place in between your world and ours. That’s why you are being pulled more and more into these dreams. Not only by those trying to help you, but also by those who wish you harm. I’ve come to show you something very important, something that might answer a few questions for you."

Annaleah held her head up high, trying to show both herself and Marchosias that indeed, she was stronger than she appeared. "I don't want to sound ungrateful for your help," she began, her he, "but I just want things to go back to the way they used to be."

Marchosias sighed. "Things are not always what they seem, Annaleah. I know you’ve felt different from others all of your life. As if you don't really belong here. Others felt it in you too, and feared you for it. Humans can be so cruel to those who aren't like them, who don't dress, act or believe as they do. Though they couldn't understand your power, they felt it. You have felt it too, and though it made you feel different in many ways, it has also led you to find out more about other worlds and to learning about the occult.”

Annaleah’s heart raced, but what Marchosias was saying made sense. When she was younger, she had felt like she was nothing like the other children, as if she had nothing in common with the other children. Now Marchosias was saying that this was in fact, true. It was a lot to wrap her head around, but things were finally starting to come together for her.

“It’s time to stop being ashamed of who you are, of feeling ostracized for not being another faceless mask in a crowd of replicas.” Marchosias said earnestly, walking a step closer to her. “There are no others like you, Annaleah. None. You are a one of a kind."

Marchosias paused as if to let this fact sink in before going on. "I know what you have been going through has been hard, but you must be strong. So much more is about to happen, and you must be prepared. Part of that preparation is knowing what is happening, and what has happened."

Annaleah was trying her best to keep up with Marchosias, all the while trying to sense her energies. What she put out was nothing like Satanael, there was no underlying threat and no sense of deceit. In fact, it felt as though she were trying to emit waves of gentle, calming energy, and for a moment Annaleah closed her eyes and let herself fall into it, to heal her frazzled nerves and settle her racing mind.

After a deep, calming breath, Annaleah opened her eyes and said, "What does that mean? Why am I one of a kind and what’s really happening?"

Marchosias stepped closer to Annaleah, her dark eyes looking into her very soul. "Do you trust me?" Marchosias asked, her eyes burning.

Annaleah looked away, and her mind once again began to spin. Did she trust this woman creature? This was only the second time they had met, and the first time had been terrifying. Trusting anyone right now could turn out to be a mistake. Though Marchosias’ energy was soft and soothing, she might very well be trying to hide something.

Fear crept into her heart, and she began to tremble slightly. She didn’t want the winged girl before her to sense her fear, for she knew that no matter what, she was going to have to be a part of something much larger than herself. She was going to need to be strong. Marchosias promised to tell her everything, and stronger than the fear was her need to know.

Deciding to follow her gut instinct, she made her choice. "Yes." Annaleah answered softly, “I trust you.”

"Close your eyes then. Let me show you."

As Annaleah closed her eyes, she felt Marchosias touch her gently on the left temple, and she was instantly flooded with vivid visions. She saw the creature Satanael, though he looked a bit different. His hair was a lighter shade of red, and did not flow about him as it had in the place where she had seen him last night. Instead it fell in loose, shining waves down his back. His eyes were a deep shade of amber, and did not hold the seductive danger she had seen before. His wings were a beautiful deep shade of red, but instead of being leathery and scaled, they were feathered and appeared as if the pinions were made of velvet.

"This is Satanael. I believe you have met him in his more sinister form," Marchosias said. "A very long time ago, he was the Creator's consort and lover. Though he was made by the Creator's hand, he felt as though he was equal to Her, because She had given him so much, and exalted him above any other angel. Indeed, Satanael was her very first creation. In time, he began to take Her generosity for granted, and to question it. His heart filled with narcissism and hubris. He began to think that because he was the first creation, he had a special power over even the Creator Herself. It is because the Creator loved him so that he was able to go so far. Her adoration and dedication to him ran deep and was utterly sincere. She let him create the first creatures on Earth, and this caused their first falling out. It was a great gift to him, you see, to create the first life to walk on the Earth she had so lovingly prepared. She wanted it to be a place of love, light and peace, but that which he made was savage and vicious and incapable of love in any form. At learning of the Creator's displeasure, Satanael became enraged with Her for not liking his creations. He felt his ability to create outweighed Hers."

As Marchosias spoke, Annaleah saw in her mind's vision what she knew were the dinosaurs, only they looked much more fierce and monstrous than those that were depicted in history books and museums. They looked as if they occupied some region of Hell seldom contemplated. Their eyes glowed with an infernal, hateful light. The flesh was loose and rotten, lumps of skin and meat falling from them as they moved, exposing the bone beneath. She saw them screaming in pain and fury, fighting with one another, not just for food and territory, but out of pain fueled hatred. Some fought in an attempt to end their own lives and the pain of walking day after day under a blistering sun which scalded their rotted flesh. Some fought out of insanity caused from the pain, but all of them fought. Annaleah felt tears of compassion for these terrible creatures fall down her cheeks.

"Satanael had no sense of empathy for the beings which he created." Marchosias explained. "Seeing them fight entertained him, and he encouraged their misery for his enjoyment. It fueled his growing sense of power. Though it hurt the Creator to reprimand him, reprimand him She did. Out of sympathy, she destroyed the monsters he had made. After a period of time, after the Earth had healed itself, the Creator formed mankind. Satanael was furious. Not only that she had killed his creations, but that She had made the first creatures Herself. She had taken back her gift and wounded his pride. He gathered other angels who he seduced with his power and beauty, and rose up against Her."

The scene shifted in Annaleah's mind, and she saw Satanael preaching to an enormous gathering of angels. Most wore armor and carried weapons, and listened to Satanael's battle speech with rapt attention.

"The Creator could have wiped Satanael out in the blink of Her eye if she had willed it so, but still, She loved Him above all others. Satanael was corrupted because he took this love for granted. When Satanael stopped being grateful for all that was given him, his heart began to change. Envy, pride, resentment, even hate grew there. Though he stood to destroy all She had ever made, the Creator still would not destroy him or Her other angels who had betrayed Her. The Creator, in the depths of her despairing heartache, withdrew from the battle. She said only that those who turned from Her would not be allowed back into Heaven, and that they would be transformed by their hate and betrayal. The race of angels known as the Ophanim stood guard at the gates of the Heavens, so that those who fell or were cast out could return no more to the Glory of their prior home. When the Ophanium had their stations, the Creator withdrew herself fully and mourned.

"And so the first war began. Brother fought brother and sister fought sister. Many fell, and many died. The Creator wept to see those she had created out of deep, pure adoration fighting with angels they had once loved and known as kindred. She wept for beings who were created to be immortal, and yet, because of the terror of betrayal, were dying instead."

Images Annaleah knew too well from her dreams came to her as Marchosias spoke. The sensations were as real to her as if she stood there amongst the battle. She smelled the coppery scent of hot blood freshly spilled, heard the strange and beautiful foreign words of angelic speech, saw the innumerable bloodied feathers falling from the sky, scorched or still aflame. Indigo eyes flashed with a light from inside them as the silver eyed ones began to ripple and distort, their forms changing into something altogether more terrifying, as a manifestation of their betrayal.

"This is why some of our kind, both of light and darkness, hate mankind," Marchosias explained. "They blame man for the first fight, the one where the majority of the angels fell, transforming them into impure, cursed creatures. They blame humans for the war, even though it was Satanael's rebellion and their joining in the betrayal that caused it. You must know too, that not all angels will be good to mankind, nor will all of the fallen be cruel. There are many, many shades of grey between the darkness and the light, which makes things much more difficult."

Annaleah's mind was spinning with all she was being told, and she struggled not to become overwhelmed. A lot of this was making sense to her now, a few holes that she had wondered about for so long being filled in for her.

No wonder the angels in her dream wanted to attack her, there she was in the middle of their war, hated and despised, their blame lying upon her kind’s shoulders. She was lucky that she had awoken when she had, who knows what they would have done to her if she had not.

Marchosias’ description of Satanael was spot on with what she had intuited about him, she had described him very well. So indeed, he had been trying to trick her! She was enormously relived that her mother and Bubo had come to her rescue. She wasn’t entirely sure she could have fought off his seductive enchantments on her own.

Though being armed with these bits of knowledge was empowering, the knowledge was also extraordinarily terrifying. It was horrifying to think that she was going to be taking part in a war fought between the angels and the dark ones who had willingly fallen. Questions upon questions danced in her mind, swirling together until she couldn’t focus on just one. They became a continuous stream of thought, and she couldn’t grasp one to ask quickly enough before another raced in to replace it.

"There is so much to be told to you." Marchosias continued, "I do not wish to show you more than you can handle all at once. If this becomes too much for you, please tell me and we can continue this at another time. Just know this; war is imminent, and the more you know the better you will be prepared."

With her eyes still closed, but her mind's eyes open to a shifting scene of the vastness of the cosmos, Annaleah answered Marchosias. "I am ready to know more, please continue."

Annaleah's mind's eye shifted from the infinity of the cosmos to a battle scene. The face she focused her attention on was immediately recognizable as the Professor. It sent the sensation of a bolt of lightning, hitting her heart as if Thor himself had sent it to her directly.

"I believe you know this angel." Marchosias said. "You have met him here in this woodland clearing in something close to this form, though you know him best as the Professor. You sensed right away that he was something of an anomaly, and you knew there was power inside of him. He sensed the very same about you too, Annaleah. The two of you are not so different, as you will learn. What you are seeing is very important. It is something he does not know, but it is something he must come to know. It is imperative. His eviction from Heaven was a mistake. Because of this horrible mistake, he has sequestered himself away from our kind for a very long time, refusing to meet with us at almost every instance. He acts this way, not only with us, but within his role as a human among mankind. If he sees through you what I am about to show you, things will shift dramatically for the forces of light. Hope will revisit the hearts of the hopeless, souls ruined will be restored. I believe the very outcome of the war might be at stake."

As Marchosias spoke, Annaleah watched the beautiful angel she had seen before, only here he was more luminous, the light within him more alive and resonant. His eyes were a deep, resonating indigo instead of silver, telling her he had not yet fallen. Though he seemed intense and forebodingly broody, Annaleah still could not understand why he had fallen at all. Why would he choose to follow one like Satanael?

"He didn't choose to follow Satanael at all," Marchosias answered her, hearing her thoughts. "That is why he too, is one of a kind. The Ophanim had never had a battle before, and so they were new to their roles. Though this has never since happened, what occurred here is a travesty. I will speak no more and let you both see and hear this to you can better understand."

As soon as Marchosias finished speaking, Annaleah felt as if she had been immediately transferred into the scene, mere inches away from the angelic form of the Professor. He stood with another angel who was much taller. Though the Professor's wings were enormous and reached several feet over his head, the creature he stood with had a stature and wings many times his size. The power which emanated from this angel was almost a physical force; heady, strong and demanding attention.

"You cannot save them, Saraphael," the taller angel spoke, his piercing emerald green eyes glowing with ethereal light. Annaleah watched as tears spilled down the cheeks of the Professor, though he showed no shame in so openly weeping.

"I cannot stand by and watch them fall, Matatron!" the angel form of the Professor said. "I do not agree with what Satanael has done, and what is doing now. He is lying to these angels, doing something to their will and corrupting their minds. I cannot let them fall. He has poisoned them away from the truth; their doubt has made them reject the truth and take our home and all the love of the Creator for granted. Let me speak to them. I have to try!"

"My brother," Metatron said gently, his long white hair falling in loose cascading ringlets across his angular face, "If you leave Heaven, you too will be considered Fallen, regardless of your reason. Though your heart is pure and your spirit is brave, you will be locked from these gates and not permitted readmission."

More tears fell from the angelic Professor's eyes, but his expression remained resolute. "I know the Creator mourns, and though Her heart is broken, I have faith in Her. She will not let me down, once She learns of my reasons. I must do what I know in my heart is right."

Metatron hung his mighty head, tears now falling from his eyes, too. He feared that he would never see his brother angel again, at least, not in Heaven. He opened his arms and the full span of his snowy wings, and embraced his fellow angel, holding him tightly. Each knew that it might be the last time they saw the other.

"My brother," Metatron whispered into the angel called Seraphael's ear, "Go in peace and know that you have my support. I admire you greatly for doing what you feel is right. No other will do what you are about to attempt." In response, Seraphael kissed his brother's cheek, the love between the two palpable.

From over them came the scream of a wounded angel, its throat torn and bleeding fire. Seraphael reached out his arms to try to catch the falling, dying angel, and was ripped out of the gates of Heaven, never more to return.

Though he fell with the weight of the dying angel, still he tried all his angelic medicines on the fallen, dying creature. Though many angels are male, this one was female. Her indigo eyes were looking at him beseechingly as they turned from a deep purple blue to a cold sheen of silver.

"You have been lied to, sister," he whispered to her between healing incantations. She tried to speak, but her throat was still open, her inner light growing dim. "I ask of you to turn from Satanael. He is not who or what you think he is. He has turned you from the Creator. Come back with me and ask for forgiveness. I know you cannot speak; do you agree with me? Blink once for yes, twice for no." The angel in his arms blinked once, and tried to speak again. It proved too much for her however, and she shuddered in his arms before finally going still.

Seraphael threw his head back and wailed, the pain in his heart too much to bear. Though his descent had stopped as the angel he held had died, his transformation into a Fallen one had just begun. Many lives had already been lost, and those who had already fallen and were trying to invade Heaven paused for a moment. Never had they heard such a sound of torment before, nor known a sound of grief so raw. Though the Creator had chosen to mourn in privacy, the misery in the spirit of Seraphael could not bear to wait for its expression.

Seraphael, refusing to believe that he was no longer permitted into Heaven, flew back to its gates, still holding the dead angel in his arms, desperate for readmission. He tried to recite the opening words, but the gates refused to obey his commands. Furious, scared, his heart full of grief, Seraphael called to the Ophanim guarding the gates. With sadness in their hearts, they refused him entry.

"Please," Seraphael begged, "she repented before she died. Her spirit should be allowed to come back home! I have not pledged allegiance to Satanael, please, let us back in!" However, the Ophanim would not let them inside and turned from him.

The scene again began to shift in Annaleah's mind's eye, fading out slowly. She felt Marchosias withdraw from her mind.

"You see," Marchosias spoke, "He never really fell at all. He was the only angel who tried to save his brothers and sisters from falling, and was rejected from Heaven by a misunderstanding. His feeling of being betrayed is as great as Satanael's betrayal of the Creator. Now you know why he is bitter. Why he is a loner. Why he trusts no one. You, my dear, were sent here to fix that."

"How?" Annaleah asked, her heart breaking for the man she knew as the Professor.

Marchosias smiled at her warmly, "You Annaleah, are a gift…." As she spoke the last word, Marchosias closed her eyes and winced in pain. It passed quickly however, and the angelic looking woman straightened up at once and cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry, but that is all I can tell you for now. I am told that there is another of us who wishes to speak to you. I believe he will tell you the rest of the story better than I. Besides, you have a visitor, and you're also about to wake up. So for now, Annaleah, remember what you have been shown, and stay strong. There are many, many angels with you. Know we love you very much."

As Marchosias spoke the last few words, she began to fade. Annaleah began to climb the steps on the ladder of consciousness, but she could still see the anguish on the face of the Professor, and it burned its own unique form of pain into her heart. She vowed that if there was anything she could do to bring joy back to him, she would not stop until it was done.