NORTH OF BAHYITH
“Go on ahead,” Sariel called. “I’ll catch up.”
After reconnecting with his escorts, he was now only a few hours away from the Chatsiyr village. His traveling companions had stopped walking, their foreheads furrowed.
“I need to arrange my thoughts before meeting with the elder,” he explained.
The men exchanged glances among themselves, then turned and continued walking south without any discussion.
When they were out of sight, Sariel looked up into the foothills of Ehrevhar and waited. After a few minutes, an immense, winged figure came out from the foliage and walked down the slope. He was comparable in size to Sariel’s angelic form, but his mottled coloring was comprised of browns, reds, and tans. Like most Iryllurym, his chestnut colored hair was finger-length, and swept back from his face. But it was his large, golden eyes that Sariel would always remember. For many years, they were the eyes of the only friend he had. But in recent times, they’d gone separate ways and lost contact with each other.
Moving upslope into the waist-deep grass, Sariel approached the soldier and looked up. “Welcome,” he said as soon as they met.
Stepping sideways until he was downslope, the angel still towered over Sariel’s human form.
“I thought that was you. What are you doing here?” Tarsaeel asked calmly.
“I should ask you the same. How did you find me?” Sariel countered.
Tarsaeel’s lowered eyebrows revealed concern, which only made Sariel more alarmed.
“I was notified when you didn’t report back,” the angel replied. “I checked with Batna, but they didn’t find your body on the battlefield. I knew you’d die before being taken prisoner, so I figured …”
Sariel nodded.
“What are you doing here Sariel?”
“Trying to help.”
“No. What you’re doing is forbidden.”
“Is it?” Sariel asked. “How is this different from the early days? These people still need our help.”
Tarsaeel dropped his head. “The difference is that it was necessary then. Now you’re operating in disobedience.”
Sariel breathed heavily without letting his gaze leave the eyes of his former friend. “I’m not going back. There is too much to do. And here … I’m actually making a difference.”
Tarsaeel exhaled. “Look. Everyone knows it was a mistake to put your unit in that battle.”
Sariel squinted. “Everyone except my commanding officers, you mean.”
“They just needed bodies,” Tarsaeel offered. “We knew you’d be outnumbered.”
“That’s exactly my point,” Sariel replied, louder than he intended. When he spoke again, he lowered his voice. “Something’s wrong. I can’t explain it. But something is wrong with the execution of our mission. And with your responsibilities, you can probably see it better than anyone. Our leadership is going down the wrong path.”
“Are you suggesting that we become like the enemy? That we fight like them? Deceit? Treachery?”
“No,” Sariel replied. “Perhaps. I don’t know,” he said finally with a wave of his hand. “It just seems like the enemy is willing to go to greater lengths to win. Meanwhile, we have to play by all the rules. Any they just keep reinventing the conflict. How can we win against that?”
Tarsaeel’s jaw clinched and his face went rigid. “We can win because we’re on the right side! Or some of us are.”
Sariel immediately forgave the insult. He understood the soldier’s anger. He would have said the same thing just a few years ago. “Look,” he said putting his hand up in a gesture of submission. “I haven’t abandoned the cause. I’m just putting my efforts to better use.”
Tarsaeel slowly shook his head from side to side. “You deceive yourself. Omynd is over. This realm is self-sufficient. And your emotions are swayed by lust.”
It took Sariel a moment to realize that the angel spoke of Sheyir. “Lust? Is that what you think it is?”
“How could it be anything else?” Tarsaeel said dismissively. “We are not human. They are the ones who must mate in order for their species to survive. But we are not like them.”
“To hear you reduce it to such a base level tells me that you really never understood what we were doing,” Sariel said. Now he was the one who was disappointed. “It’s called love. And obviously, you’ve never experienced it. But, as unfortunate as that is, it doesn’t matter anyway because she has nothing to do with this. The real issue is that, while there’s a war going on and we’re busy killing each other in that realm, there are casualties in this realm. People are suffering here. Creation is changing here and people are dying. But we don’t get to see the result of our actions. We’re prevented from seeing how our ineffective strategy is actually failing.”
“She has everything to do with this,” Tarsaeel said quietly, suddenly changing the tone of the argument. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
These last words caused a surge of apprehension in Sariel’s heart. Rarely had Tarsaeel ever spoken with such a melancholy warning. Holding the rank of Sau-Rada in the Viytur, the Intelligence arm of the Amatru, Tarsaeel had access to information that few were authorized to know.
“What do you mean?” Sariel asked, now very concerned.
“You’ll know soon enough. Anyway …” he said dismissively. “I’m not at liberty to discuss such things with you. I came to warn you of a coming conflict.”
Sariel ran his fingers through his hair. His mind was still reeling from the enigmatic words about Sheyir, but it was clear that he wouldn’t get any more information.
“A conflict? Here?” Sariel asked.
“Yes. You’re not the only one to have crossed over. Have you heard of Semjaza?”
“No.”
Tarsaeel continued. “He’s a Pri-Rada of a joint operations group, or he used be. He crossed over years ago with three divisions of Anduarym, Iryllurym, and Vidirym. He’s already set up his own earthly kingdom and has quite a strong position.”8
Sariel opened his mouth, then shut it again and looked to the sky in frustration. “This is what I’m talking about. So we didn’t do anything about it when he crossed over. But now that he’s established himself, we’re trying to plan something?”
Tarsaeel shrugged. “You know as well as I do that there just aren’t enough resources to address every problem.”
“Yeah,” Sariel replied, not bothering to hide the anger in his voice.
“Look at it this way,” Tarsaeel continued, leaning forward to tower over Sariel’s shorter, human form. “That very same lack of resources is precisely why the Amatru hasn’t invaded this place and dragged you back to the Eternal realm.”
“Why are you telling me this anyway?”
“Because your Pri-Rada is coordinating with a mission to pay him a visit. I expect it’ll be bloody, and I’d hate for you to be mistaken for one of them.”
“I didn’t think that mattered to you anymore,” Sariel replied, turning to look out across the valley to Bokhar.
“You’re not the only one here,” Tarsaeel said flatly. “Are you sure you still want to make it your home? It’s not too late to come back.”
Sariel looked up into Tarsaeel’s eyes. In that instant, he saw the uncountable number of wars they’d faced together. He saw the faces of his fellow soldiers dying in agony. He saw the beauty of creation reduced to a wasteland. Then he saw Sheyir; her vulnerability. Who would protect her? Who would love her? Who else was even capable of knowing her?
“I’m sorry, I truly am. But I can’t go back.”
Tarsaeel’s eyes closed slowly. “Be safe,” he said simply, when they opened again.
In his voice, Sariel could hear something that he hadn’t heard in ages—the farewell of someone who didn’t expect him to survive what he was about to face. As Tarsaeel turned and walked up the hill, disappearing into the trees, his warning echoed in Sariel’s ears.
You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.
Deep in his spirit, Sariel was inclined to agree. But that had never stopped him before. And the thought of leaving Sheyir was unbearable. So, he watched his former friend go and wondered if it was the last time they’d see each other.
* * * *
GADOL HAR-MARAH
What had taken Enoch most of the day to climb, the animal on which he rode descended by the time the sun had set. With the orange light now behind the horizon, the sky began to darken quickly. Running effortlessly, the beast moved west, then north along the base of Gadol Har-Marah.
Enoch’s legs were cramped from trying to hold tight to the animal’s abdomen. And the passing night air against his naked skin chilled him to the bone. Tucking down into the thick fur, he sought the warmth of the animal’s body as he watched the terrain slip past at unbelievable speeds. Within an hour the creature began to slow, then stopped altogether.
Enoch sat up to take note of his surroundings. The air was clear of the usual mist and the stars seemed bright overhead. To the west, moonlight glittered on the surface of a large body of water. To the southeast, a pale orange glow illuminated the base of Gadol Har-Marah.
“What is that?” Enoch whispered, mostly to himself.
“The inhabitants call it Khelrusa. I believe your people call it Khanok,” the beast answered.
“I’ve never seen it before.”
“And you won’t tonight,” it replied. “We’re going this way.”
Enoch looked down and realized that the animal was standing in the middle of a wide path of bare soil, which cut across the grasslands. The path ran toward Khanok in one direction and toward the water in the other direction.
“Hold on,” the beast cautioned. “I’ll be moving faster now.”
Faster? I thought we were already moving faster.
The animal lunged into motion and Enoch ducked down, gripping the fur with all the strength left in his hands. A short while later, a mountain range of jagged rock rose from the horizon. Seeming out of place among the grass-covered flatlands, Enoch marveled at its unusual appearance. Gradually, the path began to climb into the mountains, but the beast maintained his extraordinary pace, never showing any signs of tiring.
Holding tight for safety and warmth, Enoch watched the crude stone pass by, its irregular silhouette looking menacing against the night sky.
After rounding numerous corners and changing directions multiple times, the beast slowed to a trot, then a walk. “It’s time to use your legs again,” it said, finally stopping.
As it crouched, Enoch slid over the side of its back and collapsed as soon as his feet touched the ground. His legs were numb from the ride. As he sat in the rough dirt, massaging his useless limbs, stars began to swim at the edge of his vision. He quickly rubbed his eyes, then realized that the light wasn’t an apparition. All around him, the air was filled with tiny sparks of light, drifting outward from the glowing body of the creature who towered above him. Its form seemed to dissolve slowly as more pieces of light ventured into the air.
Enoch slid backward, terrified and excited by its beauty at the same time.
Without warning, the points of light reversed their direction and rapidly converged on the creature who seemed much taller than before.
Enoch covered his eyes and braced himself, expecting something horrible to happen. When nothing did, he slowly dropped his hands from his eyes.
Where the animal stood only a moment before, there was now a magnificent creature that looked much more familiar. In form, it seemed human. But Enoch knew this to be impossible for it stood at twice his height. Even in the darkness, he could see its beauty and gracefulness.
“What are you?” he asked.
“A Wandering Star of Heaven,” he replied. “One of the Myndarym—the ones who shape creation.”
Enoch put a hand to his mouth as he realized he’d already delivered his message to one of the intended recipients.
“We have farther to go, but you’ll need to travel on foot,” he said, turning to walk up the path.
Enoch quickly rose to his feet and ran to catch up, which proved difficult with the angel’s long strides. He followed at a short distance, now feeling more awkward than he did sitting on the back of an animal. They continued in silence for a while, until Enoch worked up enough courage to ask a question.
“What is your name?” His voice seemed to violate some unspoken law of silence in this eerie place.
“Ananel,” the angel replied without turning.
Moments later, they rounded a gentle bend and Enoch found himself facing yet another extraordinary sight. The path widened greatly, running straight into a sheer wall of stone that stood a hundred feet tall and many times as wide. At each end, where the vertical surface met with the jagged protrusions of the mountain sides, the stone rose to a point. Like two spines from the back of those horrid reptiles, these structures looked just as deadly. Each had three faces, like an angular version of the Kahyin dwelling.
“How could such a thing be crafted from stone?” he marveled.
Ananel quickly looked back with a smirk on his face, then continued walking toward the center of the path where it led through an open section of the wall.
On either side of the path, two more angels stood with arms crossed at their chests. They were easily three heads taller than Ananel, and their build was wider and more muscular. They each wore a simple loincloth that fell to the mid-thigh, but were otherwise naked. Even beneath the night sky, Enoch could tell that their skin and hair were darker. Their eyes, possibly black, remained fixed toward the distance behind him. And Enoch was grateful, for his body was already shaking and he dared not think about what would happen if they looked directly at him.
As Ananel neared, the gaze of the taller angels turned toward him.
He simply nodded in acknowledgement.
“Menn eru inte leyft i a stad,” one of the guards bellowed. Though loud and commanding, his voice sounded more human than Ananel’s.
Ananel replied in the same language and both the guards suddenly looked down at the human intruder.
Enoch felt his legs go limp and he had to avert his eyes to keep from falling over. From the corner of his vision, he saw the angels nod. Ananel stepped forward and Enoch followed, keeping his eyes on the ground. As he passed by the guards, he could almost feel heat coming from their eyes.
With the wall towering overhead, casting a shadow in the moonlight, Enoch followed his angelic escort through the passage until it widened at the crest of a hill. Feeling confident enough to lift his head once more, Enoch looked out over miles of water encircled by jagged mountains that appeared as the teeth of a ravenous animal. If the mountains were its gaping, deadly jaw threatening to rend the sky, the water was its endless throat ready to swallow it.
“The Kahyin call it Mudena Del-Edha, City of the Gods,” Ananel said, anticipating Enoch’s question.*
Enoch just nodded, struggling to grasp the vastness of what his eyes were witnessing. Without being told, he knew that this place had been constructed, but he couldn’t comprehend how such a thing was possible. Around the inside of the mountains, where they descended into the water, a wide road circled the valley and disappeared into the mist clinging to the shoreline. As his eyes followed the route that they were obviously taking, his vision settled upon something which exceeded anything else he’d yet witnessed. Rising from the mist and water on the south end of the valley was a tower, shaped like those flanking the entrance they’d just come through. Only this one was so wide and tall that Enoch couldn’t really tell how far away it was. His eyes made him believe that it rose even above the surrounding mountains, but the thought seemed impossible.
“And that?” he asked the Ananel.
“Aryun Del-Edha. Eyes of the Gods.”*
Enoch was silent for a moment, lost in the grandeur of the peak that seemed impossibly high.
“Let’s go,” Ananel said, interrupting the moment.
~
For the better part of an hour, the two walked along the road which traversed the base of the southern mountains. The wide lake was still and menacing. Above its dark surface, a gray mist floated, with tiny swirls developing where it met the water. Minutes passed while they grew closer and closer to the tower. With each step, its height seemed more dramatic—less real. Finally, they reached a narrow peninsula of stone that extended out into the water, connecting the tower to the southern shore.
As Enoch followed Ananel across the land bridge, he noted three lesser towers protruding from the water to the north, east, and west. Each bore the same look, with three steep faces that eventually converged at a peak. Enoch thought about the simple habitations of his tribe, made of wood, thatch, and animal skins. These massive structures were something entirely different.
The path on which they walked ran straight toward the southern face of the tower, into which was carved a gigantic doorway of the same triangular shape. The path also diverged at this point and appeared to encircle the base of the tower, but Enoch’s attention was drawn to the guards posted at either side of the doorway.
This time, the menacing angels remained silent and still.
Ananel walked past them without slowing and Enoch followed as closely as he could, trying his best to look like he belonged in this foreign place.
The inside of the tower was just as grand as its exterior. As he looked across the cavernous interior and to the ceiling far above, Enoch thought that he might be able to fit the entire Shayeth village into the first level. Fires burned in small bowls carved into the walls, casting a flickering yellow light throughout. As he followed, he watched Ananel’s shadow slide across the stone and land on numerous surfaces and details graven into the rock.
At the center of the room, a wedge-shaped wall rose from the floor to the ceiling. Ananel circled it and Enoch hung back, afraid of what he might see. To his astonishment, the floor on the other side seemed to rise in a series of platforms that extended toward a triangular-shaped doorway in the ceiling. Just as confusion began to set in, Ananel stepped onto the first platform.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said. Then he turned and began to climb the stairs.
Enoch couldn’t help but be afraid. He’d never seen anything like it in all his years.
Holy One, go before me as I tread upon the path of the unknown!
Ananel disappeared through the doorway at the top.
Enoch took a deep breath, then climbed quickly to catch up. At the top of the stairs, he could see that the doorway was actually a tunnel twice his own height, which cut through the ceiling of the first level, and in turn, became the floor of the second chamber. Sound moved differently through this level as the ceiling was nowhere to be found. It might as well have been open to the sky above. This chamber was more brightly lit than the previous one, and slightly smaller. The walls and floor were constructed of a stone that Enoch had never seen. They were almost transparent, like water, but with veins of different colors running throughout. All of this, Enoch noticed in an instant. For an instant was all the time he had before a deafening noise attacked him from behind, shattering the silence and bringing an end to all thought.
“VAD AR A UTTRYKK AV DETTA VALDSHU?”
Enoch grabbed his ears and fell to the stone stairs. Already, his head was pounding in the aftermath of the noise. But through his tightly held grip, the muffled sound of Ananel’s voice could still be heard.
“The outrage is that your supposedly careful plans have failed.”
Enoch uncovered his ears carefully and looked up to Ananel who had reached the top of the stairs and was facing the other direction.
“Hvorfor gera du tala i a tunga av a Shayetham?” the voice replied, quieter this time.
Enoch instantly recognized the name of his tribe.
Ananel looked down to him. “Get up and turn around.”
Enoch turned his head as he slowly rose to his feet and climbed the last few steps. At the far end of the chamber, the floor was elevated by another flight of steps. At the top, a massive figure sat upon a throne carved from stone darker than the night sky. Its surface was covered in facets, each reflecting the fire light so that it gleamed with a dark radiance. The angel who sat upon the throne looked similar to the guards, but larger, with skin that held a reddish hue beneath its earthen tone. His black hair fell almost to his shoulders. His eyes burned with the color of the embers from a fire. And like the guards, he wore nothing except a loincloth of pure white, smoother than any clothing Enoch had ever seen.
As if the sight of this angel weren’t intimidating enough, he was flanked by four others.
Standing before the left side of the throne were two winged angels who appeared similar in height to Ananel. Each had two massive wings sprouting from his upper back, and two smaller wings below that. The one whose skin was darkest had sleek, black feathers and piercing, red eyes. The other had a mottled brown appearance, with softer looking feathers.
Seated on the steps to the right side of the throne, were two wingless angels of brown and gray tones. Their elongated facial features reminded Enoch of Ananel’s animal form.22
“This is Enoch, a prophet of the Shayetham. I met him today on the southern slopes of Murakszhug. One of the smaller Kahyin tribes was trying to offer him as a sacrifice to the Akila Lena Lahaema. You can see as well as I that he is different from any other human. When I asked him what he was doing so far away from his people, he told me he had been given a message from the Holy One—a message to the Wandering Stars of Heaven!”
The angel upon the throne suddenly leaned forward.
“… ones who shaped creation,” Ananel clarified. “Isn’t that right, Enoch?”
Enoch nodded, then looked to the angel on the throne. He couldn’t be sure, for he was not yet familiar with these beings, but he felt some tension between Ananel and the one on the throne.
The large angel slowly turned his fierce eyes from Ananel to Enoch. “Come here, little one.”
Enoch obeyed immediately, but slowed his pace as he neared the steps.
“What is this message?”
Enoch swallowed. His throat now seemed too tight to allow the passage of air. But he tried to ignore it. This was the moment he’d been meditating on since he left Sedekiyr. All those weeks of reflecting on the vision he had been given, had eventually turned into words in his mind. Words that he knew, without a doubt, had been placed there by the Holy One. He also knew that this message was currently keeping him alive in a city that seemed to be forbidden to humans. And he feared that when it was delivered, he’d no longer be needed. But stronger than any of these realizations was the knowledge that his duty was to obey the voice of the Holy One, so he continued.
“The Holy One gave me a vision of what you have done, what you are doing, and what the result will be if you continue on this path.” The words coming out of Enoch’s mouth were filled with conviction, though he was inwardly paralyzed by fear. “I saw the stars, the angels of heaven, descend to the earth and transform it to keep it from dying by the poison of the Dark Ones. When their work was finished not all of them returned to their home. Some stayed behind and inhabited the earth. They were no longer doing the work of the Holy One, but they continued to shape creation as they saw fit. They were deceived by their own pride. They took wives from among the children of men and from the creatures of the earth. To these were born abominations that filled the earth with evil—”
“What is he talking about?” Ananel, whose eyes had been fixed on Enoch, glared at the angel upon the throne.
The other simply held up his hand in protest. “Continue,” he said to Enoch.
“Then I felt His heart breaking. I saw His tears of sorrow fill the whole earth. And everything was destroyed. Everything. If you continue in your wickedness, none of us will survive!”
When Enoch was finished, his words seem to hang in the air. Silence filled the stone chamber for what seemed an eternity.
Finally, Ananel broke the silence. “You set us up. You used us, then you betrayed us!”
“I did nothing of the sort,” the other replied calmly.
Ananel cocked his head slightly. “He spoke nothing of you or your soldiers. ONLY THE MYNDARYM!”
The other remained silent, while those near the throne turned to face Ananel, obviously positioning themselves to protect their superior. The tension in the room was increasing and Enoch wished that he could leave, now that his message had been delivered.
“Taking wives?”
“That’s none of your concern,” the other angel replied.
“It’s absolutely my concern!” Ananel shot back. “Since you couldn’t do it without our help. This was not the plan we agreed on. Who is helping you?”
Suddenly, all of the angels looked up as if they’d heard something.
Enoch followed their gaze and saw a winged angel silently descending through the open air of the tower above. It came from the shadows, the firelight barely illuminating its massive wings until it was almost on top of them. Enoch cowered in fear.
The angel landed quickly and gently upon the floor of the throne room, while the fires moved erratically and threatened to blow out from the sudden rush of wind. Instantly, the dark angel faced the throne and knelt, pulling his wings around himself like a cloak.
As he and the one upon the throne began to exchange words, Enoch whispered to Ananel. “What’s happening?”
Ananel inclined his head without taking his gaze from the one on the throne. “A Speaker of the armies of Heaven is at the gate, seeking council with Semjaza.”
Semjaza looked past the winged angel. “You see, Ananel. It is not just the Myndarym. In fact, He sent only a prophet to you, while he sent an army for me.”
“Vad skal ag ger, minn Rada?” the winged messenger asked.
Semjaza looked slowly from the messenger to Ananel, then to Enoch and back before answering.
“Ja, Rada min,” the angel replied. Then he rose, unfurled his massive wings, and leaped into the air. As his wings thrust downward, several of the fires set into the walls blew out. In an instant, the angel disappeared into the shadows above the chamber.
“What’s happening?” Enoch asked again.
Ananel kept his eyes on Semjaza and only held up a finger to Enoch, indicating that he should wait.
“Little one,” Semjaza said. “Since you claim to know the voice of the Holy One, and have shown faithfulness in delivering His message, you will now deliver a message for me.”
Enoch looked quickly to Ananel, whose face was now unreadable.
“Go to the Speaker at the gate. Tell him that I repent of my disobedience. I will need time to meditate upon my actions, but I will take council at the break of daylight. Then I will be ready to accept whatever terms he is offering. Do you understand all of this?”
Enoch nodded.
“Good. Ananel will escort you to the gate.”
Ananel’s face still showed no emotion as he descended the steps through the doorway in the floor.
Enoch looked once more at the angel upon the throne and his guards, then hurried to catch up to Ananel.
~
Once outside, Ananel’s pace quickened and Enoch was running again to keep up.
“Who is this Speaker?”
Ananel stopped and turned around. Kneeling, he looked straight into Enoch’s eyes. “Prophet, you’re going to have to do this on your own.”
“Wh…? You’re not going with me?”
“No. I’m afraid not. I have more pressing matters. Just follow the road the way we came in. When you get to the gate, announce yourself as the prophet who speaks for Semjaza. They’ll be expecting you.”
Before Enoch could reply, Ananel’s form began to dissolve into a multitude of embers, drifting into the air. When they converged, they took the shimmering form of a four-legged animal. Then the radiance subsided and a massive wolf stood in its place. “Good luck,” it growled, then burst into a run along the land bridge, moving faster than at any time during the previous hours.
When Ananel was gone, Enoch looked up to the sky.
What have I gotten myself into? Holy One of Heaven, I am beyond my capacity to understand what You’ve laid before me. Give me Your wisdom and Your strength to discern what is right. Give me the words to speak, for fear holds my tongue captive.
With a deep breath, Enoch put one foot in front of the other and began to make his way back in the direction he’d come.