Exousia - The Patron Saints of the Damned -Book II

(Seven Years Before Ammon’s Challenge)

Exousia woke in her hammock that was hung in the cave that was his home. The cave was not large, only about the size of a bedroom, but it was dry and had only one short tunnel entrance–a perfect funnel in the case of an attack. Now ten years old, she had long unkempt brown hair. At that moment, she wore a gray pair of gym shorts, and oversized shirt, and no shoes. She lowered herself to the ground without making a sound.

Exousia had dreamed that Dufaii had been discussing her with unknown strangers. In the dream, he had angrily defended his teaching methods against the accusations of two male humans in gray suits and a female in a white blouse.

Now awake, Exousia heard nothing. However, she felt several unfamiliar presences outside of her cave. She crawled to the back of the cave, where she kept a metal toolbox. Inside was a rope, binoculars, a Swiss Army knife, an empty backpack, some odds and ends, and a few trinkets of minor magical value. She took the knife, unfolded the blade, and placed the handle in her mouth. Then she crawled out of the narrow opening to the cave. Midway through the tunnel, she froze.

Outside the tunnel was a being, facing away, who had a set of dark brown wings. He was larger than Dufaii and wore steel-plated armor. His sword, a sizeable two-handed claymore, was tied to his back. He had pale skin, black hair that was a couple inches long, and a very intimidating form. The being turned his head to look at something, revealing his golden eyes.

A loyalist!

Exousia dropped the blade from her lips to her hand, positioned herself into a sprinter’s pose, and then sprinted out of the cave. Her knife was only an inch from severing the wing when the loyalist turned and grabbed her wrist. Exousia was flipped forward and landed on her back in a pile of dead leaves. The impact took her breath away and left her staring straight up into the blinding morning sun.

“So, this is the sort of thing you’re teaching her?” asked the loyalist. “To act as a mindless assassin, murdering anyone she comes into contact with?”

“Let her go, Michael.” This came from a somewhat familiar voice, which sounded calm and yet somehow irritated. This second person forcibly removed the loyalist’s grip on her wrist and then helped lift and steady her onto her feet. This taller and thinner person was also male, had smoky gray wings, dark black skin, light armor, and a small shield on his arm. He was bald, and his face looked kind, if intense. His eyes were also gold.

But Exousia recognized this loyalist from sketches in the books Dufaii brought for her. He was the Archangel Gabriel. Now that Exousia thought about it, she also recognized the larger loyalist from the same pictures. The warrior Archangel, Michael. She backed away from both enemies, looking around for her knife.

“It’s alright,” said Dufaii stepping forward from the woods. He handed his student the knife, which he’d folded up. His tone seemed agitated, however, and one look at his tightly clenched jaw confirmed that he was no happier about these two ‘guests’ than his student was. But what was most noticeable was how he averted his eyes so that he never looked at Michael directly. Likewise, the Archangel Michael never looked at Dufaii either.

There had been history between the two of them, that much Exousia knew, but her teacher had never elaborated to what degree. She wanted to ponder it further, but three other figures then stepped out from among the trees.

The first was another loyalist, this one female with soft curves, an elegant posture, ornate blue robes, and dark olive skin. Her hair was long and black, and she carried a sheathed saber on her belt. She seemed to be watching the situation unfold without comment or participation. Her reserved disposition was contrasted by the outright disinterest of the demon who stood beside her.

This second demon was Kueng, wearing red wrappings on his slim figure. The messenger demon had always been polite towards Exousia and everyone else she’d seen him interact with, but had an odd air of dispassion for the happenings around him. More often than not, he seemed to be lost in thought or in observation of the scenery around him, as he was now.

However, it was the last demon who put Exousia most on edge, with his neatly trimmed beard, ornate black plate-armor, short double-edged sword, and general calm. Somehow, she recognized the demon, despite the fact he was no longer in the guise of a priest.

This was Ammon, her mortal enemy. He stood there, calmly watching the scene before him as if he had been out for a stroll and just happened across something interesting.

Sweat beaded on Exousia’s forehead and it was a tremendous effort to keep her eyes from widening, her pupils dilating, and her muscles tensing for a fight. She forced herself to take a deep but slow breath, and then looked at her teacher.

Dufaii, who seemed to be dealing with his own confusion, did not meet her gaze. Instead, he glared in turn at each of the loyalists. Then he finally faced her and said, “These are the three Archangels of Heaven. They’ve been sent by the Creator … who suddenly seems to think that Heaven should have some place in your training.”

“We are to take complete direction of her training,” Michael, the pale warrior angel, said. His eyes were rigid and intense as he spoke. “It’s bad enough what you’ve done to her soul. If you think that Heaven will stand by and let a fallen angel-”

“Demon,” Exousia said and took a threatening step. All three angels and demons stopped speaking and looked at her with expressions of surprise. These loyalists knew that demons did not like that term–fallen angel, but they hadn’t seemed to expect the correction to come out of her. But why shouldn’t it? She was part demon, she thought to herself, despite her unfortunate outward appearance.

It was Ammon who first responded. His eyes brightened and the corners of his mouth curved upward as he turned his head to face Exousia, so that nobody else could see. The gesture seemed to be … a smile. What’s more, it seemed to be a mischievous one that he was sharing with her, as if the two of them were friends sharing in a scheme. It was beyond bizarre.

Ammon then turned to face Dufaii and said, “You know, I think this may not be as bad an idea as it seems. I think Heaven should have a chance to see what they can teach our demon-girl. And I’m sure we could strike a deal so that she isn’t taken on a permanent basis. After all, I very much doubt that they’ll want a completely uncooperative student.”

Exousia immediately understood the blackmail. And little as she liked the idea of cooperating with the enemy, she realized it was necessary if she didn’t want to be taken away permanently. So, she glared at each loyalist in turn, as if to say she was in agreement.

But Dufaii looked into the woods with a troubled expression. It was clear that he was trying hard to decide what to do or say, but he was having difficulty. Exousia was familiar with this side of her adopted parent. When others were around, his shields went up … and she suspected some fear just beneath the surface of his guarded thoughts. It made her want to attack these intruders all the more on his behalf.

Kueng, who had been staring thoughtfully at a small red cardinal with plumage as bright as his own wrappings, walked between Dufaii and Exousia. He whispered: “There seems to be a plan forming in Ammon’s mind. I do not get the impression that it is meant to harm you.”

Dufaii did not answer, though his breathing steadied.

Exousia knew to trust Kueng but … she still didn’t like it. This matter, like so many others, had been decided by Heaven and was now being bargained from an understood position of authority. None of the demons’ opinions were not even in consideration–including her own. It was the same entitlement with which she had always read of loyalists treating her kind. That she was being forced to use noncompliance as blackmail for dealing with them was barely a condolence. Thus her growing feelings of helplessness in this situation steamed in impotent rage.

In all these thoughts and emotions, Exousia didn’t notice that she was projecting them through her eyes. By the time that Gabriel whispered something into Raphael’s ear, it was too late for her to empty her mind of the thoughts and emotions. They had already read them … and would be able to use them against her.

Exousia cursed herself and shielded her eyes as best she could under the waves of self-blame and anger against herself.

Dufaii, who she hadn’t even realized to have been watching, put his hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. He didn’t even need to voice one of his most common teaching points–learn from mistakes, but don’t flog yourself with them.

Exousia nodded and tried to regain control. Of course, this was easier attempted than accomplished.

“Michael,” said the Archangel Raphael. “Upon further consideration, I also think that it may not be best to tear the child away from her home permanently. We will have more success in teaching her if she knows that learning will result in returning to where she wished to be, with the Godkiller.”

Godkiller.

Exousia had heard this nickname for her teacher before, though previously only from demons, for his role in the rise of the demon empire. Of course, he hadn’t been alone. Ammon, and occasionally a team of other demons, had worked together with him to orchestrate the deaths of nearly all gods.

“While we are on the topic, I would also like a turn to teach her,” said Ammon, looking at the Archangels with a serious expression. “I have the utmost respect for my former partner, and acknowledge that each of you has skills that the champion will need if she is to fight me. But none of you match my own skills in developing long-term tactics for war against powers infinitely greater than your own … unless one of you angels have successfully killed a god that I’m not aware of?”

The Archangels did not reply to the verbal jab.

Exousia felt her stomach churn, and she became dizzy. Suddenly, the idea of training with loyalists didn’t seem so bad, not in comparison to doing so with the demon who wanted to kill her! Surely the Archangels would laugh or react with overwhelming opposition.

Michael’s brow furrowed like he was going to shout something.

But Raphael spoke first. “And why would you want to help the child who is supposed to destroy everything you’ve fought for? Why should we trust that you’ll do anything but undermine her?” Her words were not angry or even accusing, they merely communicated intrigue. She was much like the messenger demon in that regard.

“Because I have no interest in proving myself against someone who is not my equal,” Ammon said with a weighted tone. “I know that what I’m doing is right. Nobody and nothing can stop me from doing what I have to. So, I’ll prove that in front of Heaven and Hell … and even to the demon child herself.”

“She’s not-” Michael began to say before being immediately cut off.

“She shares our soul and our vision!” Ammon replied, seeming dangerous for the first time since he’d arrived. “If she claims to be one of us, then we accept her for what she is. And the like of you will not undermine her identity.”

Dufaii and Kueng both stepped in front of her with deadly glances of their own, also directed at the loyalists.

Exousia’s eyes widened in surprise. She hadn’t expected for her mortal enemy, of all people, to have defended her. It confused her even more than his speech about wanting her to be a worthy nemesis already had. A sick feeling in her stomach intensified. For the first time, she felt doubt regarding the mission she had been chosen to carry out.

Michael’s face burned red. “Do what you will with the thing the lot of you have created. You underestimate the power of the Creator and their legions,”“You train the girl all you want. Just know that if you manage to defeat her, I will eagerly decimate your little rebellious uprising. Win or lose, any violence committed against the Creator will be rewarded with the full fury of the guard on all of demonkind.” With that, he opened his broad wings and took flight.

Gabriel shook his head while Raphael gave a heavy sigh. After a moment, however, they both nodded and Raphael said, “I think we are in agreement that you training the child when we are finished would be appropriate.”

Ammon nodded and said, “Additionally, I advise that you have him train with Kueng. She’ll need to learn to better hide her emotions—to play her card close to his chest as the human expression goes. No present company or other demon worth trusting can better teach her that skill.”

Exousia let her head fall in embarrassment. She knew that she had plainly demonstrated her need for such a lesson just minutes ago. Again, however, she saw Dufaii turn to regard her gently, another reminder not to dwell in her tendency for harsh self-criticism.

Raphael turned to look at the messenger demon.

Kueng nodded amiably.

Ammon smiled and then spread his brilliant black wings. “Until we meet again, then.” He took flight, departing from them.

This left Exousia, Dufaii, Kueng, Gabriel, and Raphael still speaking in the woods.

“Do we have an agreement, Dufaii?” Gabriel asked, stepping forward so that they were face-to-face. “You have my promise that we will do nothing but impart what skills we can to make her ready for the challenge ahead. And that we will return her to you when she learns these lessons.”

Dufaii closed his eyes, still in deep thought, and finally looked at his student. As if the rest of them weren’t there, he said to her, “I believe they’re telling the truth. However, to force this upon you will not teach you anything. I leave the decision in your hands.”

Exousia felt immediately like it was easier to breathe. She knew she could trust her teacher. But was she really going to study among the loyalists she so loathed? Enemies truer than Ammon himself? She huffed impatiently and said, “When I learn their lessons … I can be done with them.”

Gabriel wrinkled his forehead and looked troubled by this question, almost sad. Exousia had to think a moment to remember that he was the head of those loyalists whose job had been to protect humans. That one so distrusted him was probably a new experience … one she had already decided that he deserved.

Raphael nodded and said, “You have our word.”

Exousia turned and faced her teacher, making her eyes strong and empty of any emotion except for determination. She would beat each of these loyalists at their own game and return home. “I’ll do it.”

Dufaii nodded, his eyes also reinforced with strength and vacant of any other emotion. “You will. And I know I will see you soon.” He faced the Archangels, giving them a lingering look that communicated an unspoken threat. Then he turned his back, opened his gray wings, and flew up into the air.

Kueng followed behind.

Exousia found herself alone with the two remaining Archangels. She said nothing when she turned to face them.

“Retrieve whatever possessions you may need,” Gabriel said, using his hand to gesture towards the cave. “Then we will be on our way.”