Dufaii - The Patron Saints of the Damned Book I
Chapter 7 - Rise of Demons

“When I decided to lead my brethren to escape our Heavenly Prison, I thought that I was alone. In retrospect, I can see why I was under this illusion. After millennia, my kind had barely matured into the adolescence of our being, and most had aged slower than the rest of us. Only a few angels had reached the cusp of adulthood like I had. So, I thought to first enlist the help of another angel who was mature enough for what was to come.

There was only one such angel who had not already devoted themselves to work with one of the Archangels. Her name was Hades. We met during our attempts to speak with the Archangels about the danger of the Creator’s wrath. I note that she voiced her concerns more boldly and bluntly than I. Our efforts resulted in being forcedly assigned to services of appeasement to the Creator. I was sent to train as a soldier under the Archangel Michael. Hades, for her stronger protest, was assigned to mining labor in one of the mountains.

I suppose it should have been obvious that she would have already had ideas for escape. Though I still find myself surprised by the progress she’d already achieved toward that end.”

-from “A Perspective of the Exodus” by Dufaii the Godkiller

-O-

Dufaii moved slowly through a crowd of angels; they were working on various stages of constructing the Wall–not far from the barracks that were on the opposite side of the central lake from the Great Library. The angels bustled around in various efforts of labor–dust from the mines on some and scorch marks on the protective gear of others. Though few of the distant stares paid him any mind, Dufaii pulled the hood of a gray robe he had recently added to his form up around his face.

Of course, the heavy dust being kicked up by all the work and movement helped a bit as well, even if it was somewhat irritating to his lungs. This site was the most heavily occupied construction area for the period, which meant that it was his best bet to find someone who would know where to find Hades. He’d looked for her a few times after their conversation in the Holy of Holies. It seemed, however, that she had been transferred out and replaced by an individual who had nothing good to say about her.

Dufaii walked around until he spotted a particularly attentive-looking angel. They were without apparent gender, had slightly green skin, dark green hair, and feathers like those of a parrot. What was more promising was the oddly shifty stance, only speaking to the occasional other angel with brief psychic glances. Those glances … they had the spark of rebellion that the Lightbringer had mentioned.

Dufaii made a mental note to come back and include the green angel in his team, after speaking to Hades. For now, he approached them–walking over so that they were face to face. Dufaii panicked for a moment. What was he to say to this person he hardly knew? He gave a heavy sigh and instead chose to simply reveal the anger he kept buried within.

The angel studied Dufaii’s eyes but then glanced briefly at his sword. They said, “A member of the guard. I’m Vedeem. What brings you out here?”

“Not a guard … I’m a new division. And I’m looking for a friend … Hades?” Dufaii asked, careful to not give too much away.

“Yes, I know her,” Vedeem replied, looking in the distance as if the conversation did not interest them. Their tone, however, said otherwise. “She’s been in the Mountains for a while … deep tunneling. But I couldn’t tell you which. Normally, Pryig, would have information on any construction angel’s whereabouts. She keeps records for Wall construction on behalf of the Archangel Raphael. But those miners are a strange case … they tend to get lost in their work. They’ve nearly turned those tunnels into a maze. But maybe Pryig can show you a map, if you have legitimate business with her, that is.”

Dufaii nodded absentmindedly but had already stopped listening. He’d sensed something when he mentioned Hades, a frantic spike of energy that was almost unnoticeable.

The source was a skinny, blonde-haired, shifty male angel that seemed to be in early adolescence. He was pushing a wheelbarrow over rough and shredded ground. He wore slightly tattered, aqua-blue robes. His movements were jittery, like he was barely managing a series of nervous tics.

“Thank you,” Dufaii said and began to casually trail the blond-haired angel. He sensed that the angel named Vedeem was signaling someone–like energy passing from behind him to unknown entities in the crowd. He didn’t have time to worry about all that, however.

After a few yards, the blond-haired angel parked the wheelbarrow he’d been pushing and darted in the direction of the Mountain. He must have known he was being followed! In his hurry, he pumped into an angel carrying a large chunk of stone, nearly making the other angel drop it.

The blond-haired angel apologized and then turned back around to continue forward. After he’d made it to a new crowd, the blond-haired angel glanced frantically all around him.

Dufaii barely managed to get behind a pile of neatly carved and stacked rectangular stones in time to avoid being seen. He removed his gray robe, hoping it had done its job in hiding his face for the most part. Then, he took off his belt and wrapped his sheathed sword in his robe. Then he fastened it to his back by looping his belt and tightening it diagonally across his chest. For good measure, he untied his hair and let it fall around his ears. Dufaii then continued the pursuit, lifting a large stone over his shoulder as he went.

Every few minutes or so the angel with blond hair would glance about behind him. His speed, his aura, his fear, it all contrasted the dull monotone energy around him in a way that reminded Dufaii of the Earth’s moon eclipsing the sun.

Dufaii managed to avoid the small angel’s darting looks, staying a good distance behind, shifting his posture, or ducking down to check his sandals. This went on for a while, until they had followed the trail of workers all the way to the mountain, where crude materials were being deposited in massive heaps.

These made hiding easier while Dufaii fell further and further behind his target. And though he did not enjoy terrifying the younger angel, Dufaii found the hunt to be unexpectedly thrilling. With fewer and fewer people around, he found that he could use angel’s aura to keep track of him on the other side of the mounds. Of course, this meant that he had to concentrate on keeping his own aura small–just like he’d done in the cave on Earth.

When Dufaii reached the foot of the mountain, he ventured to get another look.

The blond-haired angel speaking to someone. The second angel had dark brown skin, black hair tied in braids that were tight against her scalp, and crimson wings. She wore rough-looking brown clothing that was covered in grime from the cave. Behind her were two of the largest angels Dufaii had ever seen–both with feminine appearances and think planks of wood in hand. No doubt, word had made it from Vedeem that their compatriot was being followed by a guard who was asking questions.

Dufaii knew he’d seen the first angel before in passing … Gala? If that was her name, she was one of the blacksmithing angels that made weapons for the guard and tools for the miners. She’d worn other clothing then, however, and her hair had been free to cascade in what looked to him like an elegant mane of ringlets. Now it was tied tightly behind her.

The blond-haired angel’s face was flushed and twisted in horror. And though he was still frantic, the weight with which he stood like something heavy had been hung around his neck made him seem … grieved.

Dufaii narrowed his eyes, wanting to hear what was being said between them. But with the exception of brief looks out at the lake, Gala was keeping her gaze down. Almost as if it were purposeful. If she too was in on this rebellion, along with her guards and the boy, that made up an entire team.

Dufaii nodded to himself; yes, he thought he could handle getting that many angels out of Heaven.

Gala continued her secret and wordless conversation with her small group. Since she was the one speaking, there was no chance for him to intercept anyone else’s thoughts or read their lips.

The blond-haired angel only listened to her, his eyes revealing mostly a swirl of emotions. More panic … followed by a gradual calm from whatever was stated after. Then, she put her hand on the angel’s shoulder, and the blond-haired angel’s wings fell from their rigid posture … seemingly from just the touch itself.

Dufaii pulled in his own wings defensively and looked away. The exchange between them made him feel uncomfortable. A part of him didn’t understand how other angels could still be that … vulnerable with one another. Maybe he even resented that they could.

He swallowed, put his feelings aside and went back to watching. He had to get to the bottom of what was going on, especially if it would lead him to Hades. He waited several more minutes until Gala directed the blond-haired angel toward a mine entrance. Gala herself went in the opposite direction, back the way Dufaii and the blond-haired angel had come from.

Dufaii watched her as she left, noting that she too had an energy that was different than most of those who worked the line. She walked differently, with the heft of someone who still had life in them.

Once she was gone, Dufaii went into the same mine entrance as the younger angel. Once inside, looked around the entrance a bit until he found a discarded torch that had been left on the ground–among a few other tools, most of them broken. Using the only torch he could see that was lit, one situated at the entrance of the cave, Dufaii ignited his own and walked deeper into the mountain. As he walked, he noticed the maze-like pattern of tunnels. Had it been done on purpose?

For a while, there was no sign of the angel. The blond-haired angel’s footsteps were indistinguishable from the multitude of others echoing throughout the cave alongside the repeated striking of metal against rock.

What made Dufaii’s pursuit far more difficult was that he no longer sensed the angel’s aura. He began to wonder if the blond-haired angel had, in fact, known he’s been followed. Maybe he’d taken another exit out of the cave and sped away as soon as Dufaii had lost sight of him. This was … an unfortunate turn of events. However, he’d gathered a great deal of information in both his pursuit of Hades and discovery of other angels who also sought escape.

Before Dufaii turned back, he decided to follow the closest sounds of labor. He walked until he heard muffled voices and sensed a great variety of auras. Some were scared, some were excited, some were angry, some were sorrowful, some were hopeless, and a few were even somewhat peaceful. Unlike the angels outside, however, their combined energy did not feel numb.

For a moment, Dufaii’s psychic projection felt a bit overwhelming–like riding the current of a river. Some places were smooth and others jagged; some were warm and others frigid; and there was nothing to do but to flow with it. The feelings were overwhelmingly alien to him … wholly distinct from both what he had known before the storms and after. Their auras were sharp and somewhat painful to feel, but also alive in a new way.

Dufaii doused his torch as he continued toward the noise, trailing his hand along the tunnel walls to find his way. Eventually, he saw the yellow glow of other flames that gave enough light for him to see the tunnels around him again. He wondered for a moment if he should reveal himself–let them know that his heart too beat with the ferocities of terror, anger, and hope. However … he found that he couldn’t.

What if they … rejected him? What if they betrayed him.

Dufaii didn’t want to feel that kind of pain ever again. He shuddered and remembered back to what Michael had told him in the barracks. He was afraid of connection … and scarred by his experiences in the Storms.

Dufaii nearly turned to leave when he felt a presence coming from the opposite side of the tunnel. Someone was coming this way, and they had cut of his means of escape! Already he could see their torches illuminating the dark around him. There was no way he could hide.

Dufaii prepared his sword–deciding it best to fight whoever was blocking his way rather than to risk fighting an entire cavern of workers. He wasn’t wholly sure he could attack this one angel … but it seemed like a plan he could at least work with. When he tried to prepare his stance, however, his sandal caught on some rock jutting from the ground.

Dufaii yelped as the rock tore his skin and sent him stumbling backwards into the open space behind him.

Dufaii found himself in a large cavern where about twenty angels were working. The flickering yellow lights of many torches illuminated the scene before him. A few pushed wheelbarrows to haul stone, most swung pickaxes at the rock, and a few more worked noisily on unknown projects in the adjacent tunnels.

As soon as the angels saw him, they froze in place. A few even dropped what they were holding. By their dusty, wide-eyed expressions that alternated between him and their sharp tools, it seemed that they didn’t know whether to act casual or attack. For that matter … neither did Dufaii.

Then, someone with the posture and minor air of an overseer stepped forward. Dufaii immediately recognized Hades. She was wrapped in brown robes, which were covered with dust, and had a hood that mostly covered her jet-black hair except for a strand in the front. She stood next to the blond-haired angel whose gold eyes were wide with disbelief and horror, presumably because he now realized he’d been followed.

“I … came to speak with you,” Dufaii said, choking on his own words from the pressure of so many eyes upon him.

“Dufaii?” Hades said, eyeing him up and down. Her hand rested on a small bump protruding from her hip, something almost unnoticeable under her robes. It was likely some sort of makeshift weapon. She eyed his sword and arched one of her eyebrows. “You’ve finally taken a post with the guard, I see. I suppose congratulations are in order.”

“In a sense …” Dufaii replied, resisting the instinct that came from his training to take a defensive stance. “I … I would really rather talk alone.”

“I’m sorry,” Hades said, seeming genuine without letting down her guard in the least. “Secrecy has become a scourge on Heaven. And it will not be permitted here.”

Dufaii nodded, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before reopening them and fixing his gaze on a rock. He could feel his heart racing; and thought he did not want secrecy, he very much wished for privacy. Still, he managed to force the words. “I’ve been given permission to organize a new sort of guard. One over which I alone will be the commander … and that will be stationed outside of Heaven.” He hoped his emphasis would communicate more than what he felt brave enough to voice aloud.

If the energy in the room had been tense before, now it seemed like a white-hot iron. No defined emotions, just an energy that filled all of them.

Hades paused, and then softened her tone as she said, “It seems that Dufaii comes as a friend.” She beckoned him to follow.

Dufaii did so, not taking a second glance back at the other angels.

Hades led him through a series of tunnels, enough that Dufaii would have been lost were he not memorizing every step of the way. As she walked, Hades said, “It seems you’ve also been hard at work since we last met.”

Dufaii swallowed, suddenly nervous at saying more. Up till now, it had just been something in his head, something secret. By speaking it aloud, he was taking the first step from which he could not return. The idea of losing the secrecy of all that had happened with the Lightbringer and with Michael made him feel a little sick to his stomach. But if he was going to make a way for angels to live away from the danger posed by the Creator, this was the only thing he knew to do.

Dufaii took a sharp breath in and said. “This new guard that I’m forming. That is … the Archangel Michael has given me liberty to select anyone I want for it.” His voice cracked a bit and he cleared his throat. He was unsure of what he should say next. He feared that if he was too direct, Hades might think he was spying for the Archangels.

Hades shook her head, but then she looked over her shoulder with a bewildered smile. “I have respectfully declined the Archangels’ previous invitations for rank. Though yours does sound more … appealing … I’m not sure that it will serve my people.” She spoke in a respectful tone. But there was a blatant falseness to it, like she was just playing the part of the helpful servant.

This was odd compared to how she had been before … direct and sharp. Maybe her punishment in being forced to work in the mines had changed her. Then again, she didn’t sound petty or like she was lying to save her skin. It was more like she was lightly taunting him. Or … was she inviting him to try harder?

Dufaii nodded, swallowed, and said, “This position is different. I … thought you would best know how to recruit the most dependable soldiers for extended leaves.”

Hades responded more sharply to this, curving her lips into a smile. She removed her hand from her hip and from whatever weapon was strapped to it.

Feeling a little more encouraged, Dufaii continued. “If your angels here in the mine are the ones you’ve found who share our interests in this assignment, I might be able to convince Michael to deploy us in a larger group than what I think he anticipated. At the very least, we can make them part of some sort of reserve forces here and call upon them when we inevitably encounter a threat. They’d be … more protected from the cruelties of the guard than they can be as laborers.”

Hades furrowed her brow and exhaled heavily. “Commander, this is just a small fraction of the angels who share our … interests.”

“How many?” Dufaii asked and swallowed again to clear his raspy throat. He felt the feathers on his wings stand up and his skin prickle from his nerves.

“Conservatively … a third of Heaven,” Hades replied. She gave him a look that communicated her complete certainty in this estimation.

Dufaii felt a little lightheaded for a moment. When he’d asked Michael about his plan, he’d thought that a dozen or so angels would want to join. The rest, he’d thought, would want nothing to do with his ideas to leave their eternal home … only to get closer to the gods. But a third of all angels … it was too heavy a thought for him to handle. He braced himself against the cave wall with his hand and heaved air for a few moments.

When Dufaii had recovered a little, he saw Hades studying him closely. He felt more than a little embarrassed at his reactions.

No doubt, Hades was feeling the torrent of emotions that he projected through his aura and his eyes. Despite what all she must have picked up, Hades stood up straight, cleared her throat, and then spoke more formally than she had before. “I assume you will need a second-in-command. If it were me, I would find it within my duty to … adapt your vision. To a fitting scale matching the number of angels who feel threatened by the many dangers at hand. For example, I could prepare all interested angels for tryouts, training all of them so that we can recruit only the best. Even after, those who did not make it could continue their training, in case reserve forces became a need.”

Breathing became difficult for Dufaii, and he could hear his pulse in his ears. He took in a sharp breath of air, momentarily forgetting all forms of pretense. “The Archangels would never let that many angels leave, especially ones whose loyalty they already question. Leaving could be taken as treason … it could be war.”

“Am I to understand that you would not take that step?” Hades asked psychically, peering into his eyes like she was searching for the answer there instead of what would come out of his mouth.

For this reason, Dufaii did not answer. He remained quiet while she searched and hopefully found what she wanted to know. Because the truth was … he had no idea if he could do that. And he was under no inclination to deceive her into seeing him as more than what he was.

Finally, in a low and breathless tone, Dufaii said, “I can train them. But I won’t be able to do enough to compensate for our lack of weapons. Shovels and pickaxes will not defend us from armor and swords.”

“Commander,” Hades said, still speaking quite officially. And her use of his title seemed like she was trying to remind him of something … something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “There is someone I think you should meet.”

As they continued to walk, they passed angels of various maturity levels working in the mine. In addition to his earlier notes of their auras, Dufaii noted other differences in their actions. Unlike the angels building the walls, these seemed to have a little more determination in their actions. The miners struck the rock with more gusto, and two of the wheelbarrow pushers raced along a wider tunnel. There was even a distant echo from angels singing some raucous song deeper in the tunnels.

Dufaii thought about how odd it was that his perceived role had been so flipped on its head.It was no longer he who was trying to gather others and save them from the Creator’s wrath. No, now he was the one feeling recruited. Somehow, this made his shoulders and back feel less heavy and tense than they had since he’d first made his decision to leave Heaven.

Hades soon guided them out a different access point than the one from which Dufaii had entered. This entrance led to a forest that was on the opposite side of the mountain than the lake, the barracks, the Holy of Holies, and the library. It was just woodland from the mountains all the way to the back Wall. Here, hundreds of pre-adolescent angels collected branches and logs, presumably for tools and building. Like the angels in the caves, their disposition made them seem a little better off than those who worked tirelessly on the walls.

Of these angels, one of them stepped forward. He was one of the youngest—not even an adolescent. His hair was blonde and short, his skin was a warm tan color, and his face was soft and rounded. He wore brown shorts and a loose-fitting brown shirt, both of which seemed to have been woven from plant fibers. Most noticeable was his almost wry smile, like he’d just thought of a joke and was about to tell someone else.

“Ammon,” Hades said, addressing the young angel. “I’ve got someone you should meet. This is Dufaii.”

Ammon did not reply at first. He stared at the guard’s sword; it was a symbol of the guard’s power and one to rightly distrust. He lifted an eyebrow and said, “A guard?”

Dufaii winced, unable to feel like the condemnation wasn’t deserved.

“I vouch for him,” Hades said more resolutely than Dufaii expected. “We’ve known each other since before the First Storm; and it seems our efforts since then have been toward a similar end. He’s been working towards creating a scouting party to get a group of angels to the physical realm … permanently. He just didn’t realize how many of us would be interested in leaving.”

Ammon drew in a deep breath and nodded a few times knowingly. Suddenly, his disposition and tone seemed more than welcoming. “Also … I fear that it’s going to take more than a post on another plane of existence to get us away from the next storm. Still, having this at our disposal creates many more possibilities.”

“I’ve made Dufaii aware of the … inherent conflict ahead of us,” Hades continued. “He seems confident that he can provide us the combat training needed to prepare us against what Michael has taught the guard. But he wants assurance that we are not leading our brothers and sisters to sure destruction given the guard’s advantage in weaponry and armor.”

Ammon smiled more brightly than before. He faced Dufaii and said. “Hades and I … we’ve been working on that. Our first idea was to steal metal from the mines. But if the Archangels found what we kept, they’d have a good idea of what we were planning. So, we’ve worked on an alternative.”

Ammon pressed all the fingers on one of his hands together, bit his lower lip, and wrinkled his face in effort. Slowly, the skin on his hand began to blend together until it became a fleshy point. Then the flesh retracted, revealing red muscles, which also then receded. Soon, all that was left was solid bone with a sharp point. Then, much quicker than what it was initially done, the process reversed, and the spike became a hand again.

Ammon wiped his brow where a few beads of sweat had formed and said, “I thought that since we can change our shapes, maybe we could change our bodies into weapons. It takes a few weeks to get it right, but then it gets easier. Given time, I think we could change into practiced forms at will.”

Dufaii couldn’t immediately reply. He was as stunned by the discovery as with the number of angels who wanted to leave. But, for the first time, he saw a sliver of hope. There were infinite possibilities with this shape-changing. They could give themselves massive jaws and teeth, or claws, or horns—anything they wanted. The ability was limited. They wouldn’t be able to create any shape or bodily weapon at will, and it truly wouldn’t be enough to fully compensate for a lack of weapons and armor. But it was a start.

“That’s not all,” Hades said, reaching into her robes and grasping a weapon strapped to her hip. It was the one that Dufaii had guessed to be makeshift. Instead of some small pickaxe or tool, Hades revealed out an ornate golden dagger that emanated the same warm light as her eyes. “After much searching, I found the Lightbringer’s staff that was lost when, as you revealed to me, he drew in the lightning from the Second Storm. I just … suspected that his shepherd’s crook had to be more than a piece of wood.”

“Surely they would have said something if-” Dufaii began to say before he stopped himself. While he’d thought that the Lightbringer would never have kept something like that secret, especially when it could have meant so much to Heaven, it made sense now. To have weapons that were indestructible … maybe they had been saving this secret so that it could be their way out. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Dufaii said, “So the staff was more than just wood.”

Hades nodded. “We couldn’t break it no matter what we did. Not even our blacksmith could make a scratch with all the heat from her furnace and heaviest hammers.”

“We tried everything to figure out what it was made of,” Ammon continued. “We looked at every mineral we could find but nothing was like it. So, got help from someone who works with us in the Library. On a hunch, he brought it to the Lightbringer. He said the crook slowly turned to light and then returned to their chest. Assumably, rejoining their soul.”

Knowing her and having initially wanted to work in the library, and then also having witnessed the murder of a god in a failed attempt at consuming their power, Dufaii had read a few of the Archangel Raphael’s studies on the soul. He understood that the soul was accessible as a metaphysical orb in the core of sentient creatures. It was comprised of the divine shard, a pure piece of the Creator. The shard itself was necessary for life, no matter how small, and came wrapped in a husk. The husk was a person’s inherent nature and their will–shaped over time by their experiences and choices in life. This two-part soul was what Dufaii himself had seen in the form of the orb which that maddened god had failed to absorb. It was also what his kind used to split water for travel to other planes. Apparently, the Lightbringer had discovered yet another use for it.

“If you want to see how it compares …” Hades said and pointed at his sword.

Dufaii looked down at his sword and removed it from its sheath. He found himself hesitant to hand it to her. While it was just a replica of a guard sword, it was still something that had been given to him … entrusted to him by … by Michael. And though he hadn’t been completely honest with the Archangel about his reasons for wanting to start a scouting team, it hadn’t been from a place of deliberate deceit or betrayal.

Handing it to Hades and Ammon felt like he was cementing his betrayal in stone. He swallowed and closed his eyes. It was all he could do to remember the rows of angels working lifelessly on the walls, the Lightbringer’s body in a grotesque heap on the ground, as his own unbearable agony during the First Storm. In a hoarse tone, he said, “Please … don’t break it.”

Hades nodded and struck her golden dagger lightly against the sword. The blow created a small nick near the hilt of the sword, but the soul weapon remained unaffected. She proceeded to compare their weight, and then ran a finger over each blade. Each cut her fingers, spilling droplets of golden blood onto the grass. “Comparable weight and sharpness, but the soul blade is definitely more durable.”

Dufaii winced at the self-inflicted injuries on her fingers.

Hades shook her head and put her fingers in her mouth briefly to clean the blood. “I’ve been testing the capabilities of our bodies for sustaining wounds; this is nothing. The injuries are never pleasant, but they’ve taught us what the body can endure. As did … well … your own injuries in the Second Storm, Dufaii.”

“What the body can endure …” Dufaii said, both trying not to remember his own pain and also not imagine the things that Hades had done to herself to attain her knowledge.

But Hades responded without emotion. “Bleeding and organ punctures slow us down, but will not stop us. To stop another angel you must slice muscles or break bones. As we learned with you and a few others who had been flying in the First Storm, the brain is something of a weak-point if you want to incapacitate a target. When my skull was crushed, my consciousness left me. I woke up only once it healed. Of course, it felt to me like no time had passed.”

“It took about a week,” Ammon added. “Our bodies can heal from anything, even amputations. Just light with the Lightbringer and the crook, pieces of us can be rejoined after any amount of time. We haven’t yet figured out a way to … end a life or permanently cripple another angel.”

“Don’t,” Dufaii said, shaking his head. He felt dizzy, but he couldn’t stop himself on this point. All he could imagine was some angel of this rebellion standing over Michael’s corpse with his soul in hand. He said, “The people we are fighting … the guard. They’re wrong, they’re cruel, and they’re cowards. They may even deserve it. But we’ll just inspire the fear and hatred of other angels if we go out of our way to kill them when we don’t have to.”

Ammon lowered his head. “What if … we do have to? Not the guard … but the Creator. What if they try to kill us all or send another storm?”

Dufaii sighed. “That’s … different..”

Hades nodded, and her jaw tightened. “That brings us to the last piece of the puzzle. Lightbringer. After what you said they did for us … we’re not leaving them here to rot. Even if they can’t help us, we need to find a way to get to them.”

Dufaii nodded, feeling a tightness in his chest at the idea of seeing the Lightbringer again. He sighed heavily and stared down at the grass.

“You, Dufaii, are the highest official we have on the inside,” Ammon said. “Can we entrust this task to you … in addition to training our people?”

“I … can try,” Dufaii replied. He knew that what he was being asked was somewhere within the realm of possibility. But he didn’t know if he could endure all of this. He knew that he wasn’t a leader and that he didn’t have the strength to free a third of all angels from the power of Creator, the Archangels, and the rest of Heaven. But maybe he could train them … and maybe … maybe he could do as the Lightbringer had asked of him in their final words–to see Heaven for what it was and … do what was within his power.

“I believe that you can, Commander,” Hades said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “And until you figure that out for yourself, you’ll take the word of your new second-in-command. We’ll take care of supplies and organization. It won’t be difficult to find the few angels left who would side with us. Most have already joined into small groups. These groups find each other and eventually make their way to us.

“How do you … know … without risking someone reading your thoughts?” Dufaii asked.

“We have … a signal,” Hades said.

Both she and Ammon faced him. For a moment, it looked like they blinked. But it wasn’t a blink. A black coloration descended from the tops of their eyes, spilling down like oil that overtook the flickering gold. For a half-second, their eyes became black. Then the curtains of black lifted, and their eyes were gold again.

-O-

“I had met the Godkiller … Dufaii, as he was called then, a few times over the course of our millennia in Heaven, though I can’t say that there was any angel that I didn’t at least recognize. He was reserved, contemplative, more mature in appearance than most other angels.

I remember that he didn’t connect well with others after the Storms. This wasn’t uncommon, there a few angels reacted this way. I guess they felt betrayed and just couldn’t reconnect after the Creator hurt them so intimately.

It was to my great surprise that generals Hades and Ammon recruited him to our cause. Not just as an ally, but as general– same as them.

I only understood when the Godkiller held his mock tryouts. He started by sparring with the best fighter we had–three at a time! He wasn’t showing off, either. He simply circled around them, deflecting and countering their attacks, while spending most of his energy explaining to us how they could improve each attack.

He drilled about a hundred or so angels per day with exercises that they could practice on their own time. Most of these drills were partner based, with one angel initiating a series of the guard’s best attacks and the other angel countering each of them.

The Godkiller would later teach us how to take best advantage of the soul weaponry that the Lightbringer and then Hades had discovered. He had them practice reabsorption and recreation of their weapons, until it could be done in about an hour. He also encouraged them to think about the weapons they created.

For himself, the Godkiller crafted a weapon meant to capitalize on the advantage of the soul weaponry’s durability. The result was a heavy but narrow forward-curved sword with blunt, pointed edges. He tested this weapon against the soul-sword of a recruit. The traditional blade–even made of soul–was shattered into pieces.

The recruit later modified his own design, creating a blunt edge on one side of his sword and a sharp one on the other. Then he tested it against those of his friends to great success. These friends then adjusted their own weaponry to defeat his and those of one another. Before too long, all the recruits had wildly different types of weapons, each complementing the strengths of the angels who wielded them. Then, they began on soul armor and we experienced another wave of changes in tactics and design.

I wouldn’t say that I felt disparaged that my own skills became nearly useless because of the Godkiller. Perhaps in another situation, I might have felt that way. But after the Storms … I just felt hopeful–for the first time in a while.”

-“A Blacksmith No More” an autobiography of her early years by demon engineer, Gala

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