Lightbringer - The Patron Saints of the Damned III
Chapter 8 - Old Wounds

Exousia felt slight nervousness as she and Roach approached the palace. The fortress was clearly meant to inspire fear. Unlike most structures, it was not outlined with straight vertical or horizontal shapes. Instead, everything was curved and pointed into stone spikes that seemed to melt into each other like a sea of vines. The towers rose up like curving thorns, and every surface not meant for walking was covered with oddly beautiful spikes carved of bones. As they got closer, they found themselves passing by what looked like some sort of demented orchard. It was far more symmetrical than the palace, with rows of long white spikes upon which humans were impaled. A couple of these spikes were unoccupied, allowing him to see just how they worked. They were not just singular spikes, but ones with reversed barbs.

Exousia detoured from her path to get a closer look. Both the smaller branches and the trunk itself were hollow. But the way they angled in every direction would have allowed the victims mounted upon them to shift and move as they tried to writhe in pain. It seemed designed so that the hollow tubes would be able to drain blood as the victims struggled. Sure enough, at the base of each pole, there was a covered basin that looked like it could be slid out and replaced.

“Welcome to the vineyard,” Roach said and gave the back of his neck a quick scratch.

“This is where the wine I drank was made,” Exousia said with a grim but unremorseful tone.

“If it makes you feel any better, this place is reserved for pretty terrible humans,” Roach said, looking over the hundreds of acres that stretched ahead of them as far as the light shone.

“I understand,” Exousia said, but she wasn’t speaking of the souls. It was the thirst. Having barely survived what little time she’d spent in this place with her mind relatively intact, she couldn’t imagine enduring here for as long as the demons had. They needed the blood … and there was only one way to get it. The fact that the victims just so happened to be those who had themselves inflicted pain on others was merely an irony and convenience.

They continued their walk and soon passed a team of demon and human workers gathering the basins from underneath the devices. Some of the humans looked shriveled and like they could not possibly have had any blood left in them. These were removed, and large demons would take bound humans from a line and impale them mouth-first onto a pole. Just the auras from these bound humans were more oppressive to Exousia’s senses than the slaves in the cities.

“What will they do with the dry corpses?” Exousia asked as she walked and watched.

Roach hesitated a moment and then replied, “They’ll be thrown in a pit, same as where we dispose of building materials and waste. It’s … a system to recycle and filtrate their blood, for when humans go extinct. Throwing them down there gives their bodies the millennia they’d probably need to pull themselves back together before we can harvest them–since souls do slowly mend down here if allowed. If we ever need them, they’ll be there. Lately though … there’s been sounds coming from down there, and people talk about abominations crawling in and out.”

Exousia grit her teeth at the reminder of the harsh reality of this place. Even more so at the idea of this pit that Roach was referring to. The worst of the damned, all thrown into a black hole together. What kind of kingdom of their own might be down there? With its own wars, slaves, and horrors such micro-hell within the first would inevitably have.

“You have a weird look in your eyes,” Roach said, interrupting her thought.

Exousia felt herself brought back to reality. “Just … realizing why half the demons here are willing to destroy themselves in Ammon’s war for the slimmest chance of escape.”

“I thought you said you were going to join him,” Roach said, scratching one of his horns.

“I am … but that doesn’t mean I’m hopeful,” Exousia replied grimly.

Roach cocked his head and seemed to think on this for a while, moving those mandibles as if he was literally chewing on the idea. “Well … would you do something differently if the demons all listened to you?”

Exousia shut her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s why I’m hoping I can talk to the real Ammon. Maybe there’s more too it all that I’m just not seeing.”

Roach seemed to pause again and then said, “You know … if you had another plan, it’s not like it’s too late. People would even follow you, I think. People like that doctor we met or all the souls you could help like you helped that old fellow in the city.”

Exousia couldn’t think of what to say to this, other than the truth. She said, “I don’t want to let them down again.”

“You can’t,” Roach said as he turned back to face the city. “We know that things are doomed. But fighting for something we can stomach is a much better option than the alternative.”

Exousia did not immediately reply. She thought about it for a moment and then said, “We’ll worry about that after we figure out what Hades has in mind and then try to save Ammon.”

The two were close now, and the front gates of the fortress were just ahead. They approached a massive spiked gate where guards stood in wait. As soon as they were within range, the guards stepped from all around and pointed their weapons at them.

Exousia fell into a defensive stance but soon figured out that this was unnecessary; they weren’t aiming at her.

“You stupid creature!” said a guard with a muscular reptilian body and armored scales, aiming a pike at Roach. “If Hades does not throw you from the tower with your wings peeled off, I’ll make sure you suffer far worse.”

Exousia stepped between them. She wasn’t sure what Roach had done that was so horrible, but she wasn’t going to sit by and let him be mutilated either.

“That will not be necessary,” spoke a dark voice from someone stepping through the slightly ajar gate of the palace. The tall figure had pale skin and black hair that fell to her back. She wore what seemed to be leather armor, hardened into long spikes at her shoulders and in smaller ones at her elbows, knees, and anywhere that could be a potential striking surface. Her black eyebrows were low with subdued anger, and her mouth was parted slightly to reveal gritted teeth.

Exousia recognized her from pictures. This was the ruler of Hell, General Hades.

Hades continued, now regarding Roach with her own fury. “You nearly ruined everything! I specifically told you not to retrieve the Champion. And what do you do? You sneak out, nearly let her be captured by Ammon’s forces, nearly have her murdered by a mob in the city! You have one chance to explain your actions.”

Roach was already cringing and lowering his head as much as possible without actually getting down onto his hands. “You see, General Hades, I was going to wait here! But I noticed some suspicious characters follow your warriors when they left. I got some bad feelings, and just decided … you know, maybe chance going at it alone and surprising Ammon’s guys by getting to her early.”

The demon guard snarled and shouted, “General, he’s an enthusiast for the stories of the Champion and risked everything for his own amusement. I’ll gladly take him and break off pieces of his exoskeleton inch by inch until he’s left with just his insides.” He pressed his pike closer.

Exousia stepped forward and said, “General Hades, this demon successfully brought me to you. He’s not a warrior and clearly possesses compromised strategic judgment.”

“She’s right, I am a dumbass!” Roach added, looking like he was trying to be helpful. “But not like a bad dumbass.”

Exousia gave him a look and then said, “Yet, it might have been for the best. Yana and Attel were waiting just outside of intake, no doubt waiting in ambush for your soldiers. From the stories I’ve been told, we wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

Hades studied them both with a grim expression. Exousia waited for her response, her hands clasped behind her back. While Roach forced an uneasy smile. Finally, Hades looked away from Roach as if he no longer existed and beckoned Exousia to follow her inside. “I will forgive the matter for now. We have a lot of work ahead of us.”

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-O-

By the time the doors began to rattle open, Dufaii had stood to his feet in defiance of whoever had entered. This sent sharps spikes of agonizing pain throughout his entire body and did little to give him an advantage, but he did so anyway. He gritted his teeth to deal with it and then looked dead on. He was immediately disarmed when he saw that it was the Archangel Michael who opened the door. Perhaps Dufaii would have then recomposed himself for a verbal battle, but there was something unexpectedly and profoundly wrong with the Archangel. Apart from the golden blood that could not have all been his own, there was something in his eyes like a thin metal wire only barely managing not to break from the tension. It was a look that Dufaii remembered from a battle long time ago.

Then the human called Megan entered behind him, her own aura fueled by anger. She too was covered in blood, hair, and other small bits of gore. One look into her eyes told of what she’d done. Megan looked at him and, in a betrayed tone, said, “You told me to find Gabriel!”

“I did,” Dufaii said, confused by her tone.

Megan shook her head. “Well, he’s working with Raphael and all the other angels who are secretly keeping you down here.” She approached with a key in her trembling hand. It took her a moment to uncuff one of his arms and then hand him the keys.

“We don’t know that for sure,” Michael said, but his tone was not convincing.

Dufaii felt stunned, but none of that was what concerned him most. As he freed himself from all his shackles, he asked, “What about Exousia? Where are they keeping her?”

Megan shook her head. “They don’t know.”

Dufaii felt himself blink several times in disbelief. He shook his head several times, feeling his anger rising. He narrowed his glare on the Archangel; he would not ask again.

Michael sighed heavily. “She’s right. Nobody knows. Despite her treachery, Raphael seems as earnest in her search as the rest of us. Gabriel doesn’t know, even the Creator does not sense her anywhere in Heaven.”

“That’s impossible!” Dufaii shouted, his rage now becoming something impotent within. He looked around, as if desperately trying to find some sort of clue that he was being tricked. “She has to be here! She’s not corrupted!”

“We’ll have to figure it out later!” Megan said, beckoning them both toward the doors. “The new head of the guard escaped, and we shouldn’t wait around here for her.”

At this, Michael’s head dropped further.

Dufaii grit his teeth and slammed his fist into a wall. He then tried to walk but, with the state of his body, he had to brace himself with the walls as he hobbled painfully towards the corner of the room. There, he retrieved his sword left there then made for the exit. Sure enough, the outside of his cell with angels fallen in battle. Dufaii stepped over them as best he could, sensing the other two following behind him. When he was finally outside, he spread his wings. Unlike his body, these had not been gravely injured. Dufaii turned and said, “Carry her and stay close to the ground.”

Dufaii took flight and began to glide through the trees, staying low. As he did, he felt something old begin to work again inside him. It was an energy to move and act, though his body was broken and things seemed hopeless. It was a cool and mechanical feeling that dulled his dread, his self-doubt, and his knowledge of all that was at stake. By the time that the great wall behind the mountains was in sight, his only thought was his millenia old training to incapacitate the guard and get over it as silently as possible

“Wait!” Michael shouted from behind, no doubt sensing his intentions.

Dufaii stopped, making his irritation evident as he landed at the edge of the forest.

Michael landed as well, still carrying the human girl on his back. He said, “I know the guard stationed here. She’s new amongst us … I convinced her to join along with some others to try to shake the guard out of their rageful state. I know she won’t have been a part in any of this.”

Dufaii scowled and replied, “If you’re wrong, it’s your job to cut her down. Understood?”

Michael nodded and took flight toward the wall. When he landed, the two saluted one another, some words were exchanged, and then the guard flew off. Then, Michael back to them. “She is loyal … and told me she hasn’t heard anything about me yet. I told her to tell the Creator about what’s happened and to pretend to play along with the guard’s new leadership for now.”

“Are you certain the Creator doesn’t already know?” Dufaii asked in a tone that betrayed all the spite he felt towards them. “Raphael said they have not interfered in angelic affairs since the banishment of my kind. Stands to reason that they wouldn’t interfere in this either.”

Michael did not reply, but his eyes trailed off–answering his question better than any verbal response could have.

“We are leaving to find Exousia,” Dufaii said, looking at the unguarded portion of the wall. “You would do well to leave as well. Trust me as someone who has already been demonized, Heaven does not let up once the Archangels have painted you as an enemy.”

“Wait,” Megan said, stepping down from being carried on the Archangel’s back. She said, “I … need to find my brother and get him out of here too.”

“You are free to do as you wish,” Dufaii replied without compassion or cruelty. He didn’t care what she did from here. “But as a warning, all of the dead are trapped here. Their souls are drawn to that of the Creator. I only hoped that Exousia would be an exception because she is not strictly human. Even if you find your brother, you will not be able to get far with him.”

Megan looked down darkly and shook her head. It was clear that she was forcing herself not to cry.

Dufaii gave her the courtesy of pretending not to notice. He simply said, “I’m going after Exousia.”

“I’ll join you,” Michael said, unexpectedly. “I need to figure out what is happening. And it seems that I won’t get any answers here. And … I’ll help you find Exousia along the way. But my loyalties remain, and I will tell the Creator all that we discover.”

“I don’t care who finds out the truth,” Dufaii replied, abstaining from poking further at Michael’s toxic levels of faith. Actually, he felt a small amount of pity, but that was the last thing on his mind. “Our goals are mutual. I don’t need any illusion of loyalty to work with you.”

“Good, neither do I,” Michael said just as sharply. “We will meet you on the other side of the wall within the hour.”

Dufaii raised an eyebrow.

Michael said, “I need Megan’s assistance to see what Raphael tells the guard about me … and how they react.”

Dufaii sighed irritably but reluctantly nodded before taking flight.

-O-

Megan stood on the Archangel’s hands and fastened her arms around his neck as he took flight once again. She didn’t love being off the ground but also couldn’t deny a certain thrill. Trees flew past her in a blur of color, and it felt a lot like falling except for the moments that Michael’s wings caught the air and propelled them up again. As they went, Megan thought about how she didn’t quite understand why she’d been brought along–what she could possibly do to help an Archangel. They kept low in the forest–making their way around the mountain until the central lake was in view. Michael landed and helped her dismount to hide in some trees. There they waited until the same angel as before arrived at their hiding spot–presumably having been told to meet him there earlier. It wasn’t long before Michael finished speaking, saluted the other angel, and returned. But he didn’t do so with the energy he had before. He looked as if he’d been punched in the gut.

When Michael was within earshot, he said, “I’ve been … formally declared a traitor to the guard. Raphael, Gabriel, and Paya told them that I assaulted them to free the Godkiller because of our-” he stopped, seeming a little embarrassed by whatever he had been about to say. He shook his head and said, “It doesn’t matter.”

Megan asked, “What about the Creator?”

Michael sighed, “No word. They are within the Holy of Holies, and have made … no declaration contrary to Gabriel and Raphael.”

Megan furrowed her brow, feeling a little worried for him. Finally, she asked, “Why don’t you trust Dufaii?” It was difficult for her to see why the Archangel was going out of his way to distrust the demons and even his very senses in order to convince himself that he hadn’t been betrayed. She could almost relate in a way. Megan could still remember back when her own parents had seemed to grow bored of the family life, that she had first taken on responsibility for Brennan to try to make them happy. Because she’d thought that she’d done something wrong to make them lose interest in her. That if she could show them that she was a good girl, that they would come back and love her again. Of course, those days were long gone.

Michael’s tone was quiet and defeated when he said, “It doesn’t matter. I will work with him … and, I suppose, be forced to trust him to some degree if I want the truth.”

“It seems … more personal than that,” Megan replied.

Michael sighed and looked out into the distance. “There is simply a point at which those we care about can inflict too much pain for us to ever feel good about them ever again.”

Megan felt a pang of sadness at these words, at her intimate familiarity with them. They made her think about her brother … who had done his best to protect her in the woods, to be there for his friends. What he’d done at the end, however, was a pain that hurt too much to think about. Megan wondered for a moment whether she would be able to face Brennan without being overcome by the memories of his gun aimed at her face. Megan whispered, “I … went through something like that. I still care about him … more than anything.”

Michael nodded. “And you wish that the world around you had not shifted to a point where you had to claw in desperation at one another to survive. No doubt, they feel the same way. But there’s no way to change how the cruelty of it all carves our hearts into shapes we never expected, even when we do everything we can to keep the light inside from flickering out.”

Megan let her gaze fall to the ground in front of her, unable to keep from feeling this truth she’d tried to force out of her mind since Brennan had died. Just trying to keep her thoughts from overwhelming her, she tried to change the subject. “Why did you bring me?”

Michael pointed to the lake. “There are many islands created to deal with all the humans and other beings who have come here. But those who wait for loved ones, family, friends, before they move on to another island do that here, comforting and caring for one another in the meantime.”

Megan’s eyes widened, and she looked out at the hundreds of people by the water … until she spotted familiar faces. Her heart raced, her ears began to ring, and she felt her chest well with air. Brennan, David, Marshal, and Ted were standing there, talking and crying. They didn’t look traumatized, but there was no mistaking the extent to which they had suffered or how much time it would take for them to find closure. They did look at peace though, so maybe their souls just needed time.

“I have to wait here to keep from being spotted, but there’s no reason that you can’t go speak with him,” Michael said.

Megan didn’t respond; she couldn’t. Her legs felt locked in place, and she felt too many things start to pull at her insides. There was guilt because she hadn’t saved them as she knew she should have been able. She was the older sister, the one they’d all been relying on. But she’d failed them. And her brother … he’d suffered for it. He had become a monster all because there was nothing she could do to stop it. And … even if it had been under the influence of some other force … he’d been willing to kill her. Megan’s heart began to race and her body began to shake as she felt like a gun was being aimed at her head all over again … just before he …

“We keep tabs on their locations because of their involvement with the Challenge,” Michael said. “They were taken care of on arrival, counseled, and healed in the case of your brother’s soul. None of them were corrupt, only desperate, terrified, and confused at worst. When it was over, they wanted to stay here just for their friends. As well as for their big sister … for you.”

Hearing this didn’t help Megan. Her steps were frozen by rage at herself and at her brother. She was scared … scared of what she might do, might say, might feel if she let herself get near them. Whatever was said, it would inevitably hurt all over again. And eventually, Megan knew she would have to leave them all over again. It would be just like when they’d died. She whispered, “I can’t.”

Michael nodded solemnly. “It’s alright. You ultimately came to make sure your brother was safe here. You have done that. And when the time comes when you look back with regret, remember that you would have done everything to save him if he had been in any danger. Time passes differently here. He’ll still be waiting when your own time comes.” He lowered his arms behind his back so that she could stand on his hands again.

Once Megan had climbed on, she felt them take flight. She did not look back.

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