Lightbringer - The Patron Saints of the Damned III

Exousia walked alongside Hades as they passed from the entrance of her fortress, through a series of narrow hallways. Soon, they were in a large chamber filled with maps and writing surfaces that had seen plenty of use. Fine armor rested on racks, open books were strewn along the tables, and there were robust illustrations of what looked like every point in Hell. Here, the demon general Hades closed the door behind them so that her guards and Roach were shut out. Then, she walked to a cabinet, poured aged amber wine into two white goblets, and brought them to a robust white table in the center of the room. Though Exousia tried to stay calm, it was difficult not to feel somewhat starstruck by the demon general who had once led their kind in the rebellion. Hades had been the first, the rebel who had brought everyone together for that fateful fight. Since then, she’d ruled Hell and even overthrown a previous incarnation of the Lightbringer. Not only that, but she was the only person Dufaii really spoke of as if she were an old friend. It was odd to think that under different circumstances, General Hades might have been something like an aunt to Exousia.

For her part, however, Hades seemed to study Exousia as if she were a curiosity. There was no doubt that Dufaii had written letters to her about Exousia–in addition to whatever spies had reported back to her. But hearing about the half-human that her comrade had raised was no doubt different than seeing it for herself. And Exousia had very much learned her lesson that her own sense of familiarity toward demonkind was mostly one-sided. Hades clearly was not looking at her as any sort of niece or family whatsoever. Exousia’s hope was that she could at least redeem herself as a soldier if given the chance.

“A great many people are looking for you, Exousia,” Hades said, with a question that had already formed on her face even before she asked it. “Do you know why?”

Exousia opened her mouth to answer but was surprised to find that it already felt like it was cracking open from the dry air. So, she took a swallow of the wine before she replied, “Ammon has been taken over by the Madness–a conglomerate of many souls I killed. They no doubt want revenge. But before that … Ammon himself told me to come down here so that I could fight by his side.”

“And you willed yourself here, forgoing paradise for torment,” Hades said, her tone too steady to clearly portray distrust of judgment. She took a drink from her own cup. “You may not know then that all of the Archangels are looking for you as well. They aren’t alone. Dufaii attacked Heaven independently–trying to find you, according to my sources. I’d say you threw everyone through an unexpected loop. Either that or Ammon did.”

“I didn’t know,” Exousia replied. It took considerable willpower for her not to break out into questions, instead taking another sip out of the cup and patiently asking, “Do you know … where Dufaii is now?”

Hades shook her head to affirm that she did not and then said, “But his soul must have impacted yours more than Ammon’s did to the souls of his human followers for you to have brought yourself here. Or did the Archangels leave that poor an impression?”

At a younger age, Exousia would have aggressively asserted her demonhood–that she was here because this was where she belonged. But now, even she wondered at the truth of her own motives and nature. The visions she’d endured of her lost childhood memories … of willfully purging them and her old human self to become what she was now … had put everything she’d ever known into question. For so long, Exousia had thought that Dufaii’s soul had been what changed her and taken her memories. That she had actually done it herself as a child … well … she didn’t know what that said about her. So all Exousia knew to reply was, “I don’t know the answers, but Dufaii taught me enough to know that I should come here, to you, first.”

Hades nodded, seeming to accept this. She looked over to a hand-drawn map of known land in Hell. She asked, “Do you know why Ammon can no longer seem to wrestle control from the Madness since the Challenge?”

This question Exousia had pondered, and thought she had a fairly good guess as to why she replied, “All the souls he connected to throughout the years … the ones I killed … united against me at the end of the fight. I imagine that it strengthened them and that they never let go after that. Likely, they want revenge. I don’t think it’s the case, but maybe they were just pretending to be Ammon and were the ones who actually told me to come down here.”

“You can’t imagine another reason that Ammon himself might have wanted you here?” Hades asked, raising her eyebrow.

“Just that … he trained me … and always talked about wanting me by his side,” Exousia said, trying to piece together what the General was getting at.

As if to answer, Hades began to pace slowly and pressed her hands together. “Ammon set a scene … a specific one. He called you the Woodcutter, giving you the place of that fictional man who cut open the belly of a wolf to save those it had consumed. He taught you the skills you would need to do that and made sure you had plenty of practice. The Challenge comes and goes without any relevance to this skill he clearly thought so important. But, at the end, he tells you to come down to this place, even though he knew that you could have waited in Heaven and bided your time until the day of war came. And then, just by happenstance, you arrive with all the skills you need to free a demon from the plague?”

Exousia furrowed her brow, wondering how she could have missed the impossible convenience of it all. “I … just used what he taught me. And, when I died, he said that my place in this war wasn’t over it.”

“I think your abilities are necessary to his plan,” Hades said with a tone of certainty.

“Maybe … he wanted me to save him,” Exousia said, mostly to herself as it seemed that Hades had already figured it out.

“Would that be possible?” Hades asked, narrowing a studious glare on Exousia.

Exousia scratched her scalp under her tangled hair and shook her head. “I don’t know … maybe. If I could get him still and open his heart, maybe I could root out the human souls and that of Tezcatlipoca. Even if I could, though, it would take time. And there is no way his followers would allow me to do that.”

“Then we will have to bait him out away from them,” Hades said matter-of-factly.

Exousia just stared at her wordlessly.

“It’s our only option,” Hades said, looking at a sketch of the demon city. “Before the Challenge, Hell was already divided. With Ammon’s victory, both the populace and my own soldiers have defected to his ranks. I have less than ten percent of my previous forces, and it’s only been a recent public announcement that I would work with him that has afforded me any of my previous power. Like you in coming here, I meant that promise to assist him. Madness or not, Ammon’s revolution had successfully won the support of demonkind. Our only hope is to make sure we are fighting alongside the real version of him.”

“But .. how?” Exousia asked, finding it difficult to imagine a plan that would outsmart Ammon. After what had happened in the cursed woods, it was difficult to imagine the Madness within him as any sort of viable weakness. It took willful effort to remind herself that it had taken over completely–that Ammon had not planned on losing control forever.

Hades pointed to a part of the map that Exousia remembered from her studies–a great empty chasm beyond a maze of tunnels and even the exit from Hell. It was the old part of Hell, the prison made by a previous incarnation of the Lightbringer to trap all future versions.

“You want me to find the Lightbringer?” Exousia asked, trying to swallow and finding that she had to take another drink to make that possible.

“Not only that,” Hades said. “Once we fix Ammon’s soul, we still have the matter of his fight against the Creator. We need to make sure that he will win. We need the Lightbringer or else something in that fortress of theirs that can turn the tide of battle.”

“Again … how?” Exousia asked. She had some general knowledge of the Lightbringer and that which was in their dwelling, but not enough to do what was being asked of her.

Hades shook her head and replied, “One step at a time. If you leave this place and go out into the empty wastes toward the Lightbringer’s prison, Ammon’s followers will sense it. By the time you reach it, they will be able to block the exit and keep you trapped within. The Madness will no doubt see it as the perfect opportunity to get their revenge on you without interruption.”

Exousia grit her jaw and said. “Last we fought, they defeated me.” Though the memories of the physical pain from the battle were manageable, Exousia still struggled with the emotions of her final moments of mortal life. The crushing defeat that Ammon had pulled off had been so devastating that she had allowed herself to be killed by him.

Hades stared at her dubiously. “My spies tell me a different story. That you fought Ammon and the Madness successfully … until he himself said something to you. If you can get Ammon to a point where he himself is saying anything, you’ve won. The only question is whether I understand correctly that you could defeat the Madness within him.”

A part of Exousia wanted to say no, that there was no way that she could defeat the now-united souls that had taken control of Ammon, especially now that they had been given plenty of time uninterrupted to get used to sharing his body. She wanted to say that she was finished with impossible missions set up to make her fail, that she couldn’t handle them any longer. She’d given it her best–her genuine best–and been broken for it. But there was one problem. Deep inside, Exousia knew that this particular mission was something she could do. Hades was right, she had been able to defeat both Ammon and the Madness in combat. It was precisely what she’d been trained to do. And though Ammon would have never allowed the fate of the Challenge to come down to a fight if he hadn’t known all along that he’d been in control, he also hadn’t simply let her win. Additionally, Exousia no longer suffered under the restraint of a physical body. This time, she would not be exhausted and wounded; they would be on equal ground.

Exousia let her head fall as she said, “What do we do if I manage to free Ammon?”

Hades almost seemed to smile at this. She said, “Unfortunately, I do not have a plan. However, Ammon is Hell’s master strategist. I have little doubt that the real him will be able to come up with a solution to use the Lightbringer’s resources for our benefit. My only thought, as cruel as it may be, was … his trident.”

Exousia’s eyes widened. Hades was suggesting stealing a piece of the Lightbringer’s soul–no doubt the most protected artifact in existence. But … it had also been used successfully to absorb the lightning of the Creator–their wrath incarnate. With it, Ammon would actually stand a chance in a fight with the Creator.

Exousia didn’t know how to reply at first; the whispers of condemnation reminded her ceaselessly of her previous failures. She asked, “Are you certain that this is what you want me to do? I … realized that I failed in my last assignment, that I let demonkind down.”

“You are the only option,” Hades replied with cold, logical tone. “My direct involvement or that of anyone loyal to me might trigger a war with either the Lightbringer or Ammon’s followers. I will have to disavow you and your actions. Nothing about it will be simple to accomplish. But, regardless of how you view yourself, the fact that you contended with Ammon in a fight lends you far more experience than most other demons. If your pride has been shattered too much to rely on, then remember that you are the only expendable warrior we have for this task.”

This idea … it felt familiar to Exousia. Being expendable was sickeningly comfortable. It reminded her of how she had felt as a child when the Archangel Raphael had told her that she had been chosen as the Champion of Heaven for the same reason. Once again, she wasn’t expected to win; she was a blind shot in the dark without anything but the slightest hope of success. A distraction while other plans developed in the shadows. Maybe General Hades had known that Exousia would take her words this way, perhaps she didn’t. Regardless, they worked, and Exousia nodded her agreement.

Hades nodded back and walked to a drawing of the mazes that kept the Lightbringer imprisoned. She rolled this up, put it in a satchel, and handed it to Exousia. Then she opened the door to the hallway where the demon guards were scowling at Roach. At the opening of the door, they all jumped to attention. General Hades said, “Allow Exousia to leave this place unharmed. She had decided not to aid us in our fight.” It was a lie … and one that was expected so that their plan of Exousia fighting independently would work. However, the words stung nonetheless.

Exousia walked over to Roach and muttered, “You may not want to join me any further. I’ve decided to go to the other side of Hell.”

“To the Lightbringer’s palace?” Roach asked, his eyes brightening oddly. Ignoring her recommendation entirely, he said, “Remember? I told you that I used to do some cleaning around there for Mr. Green–er–the Lightbringer. It’ll be way less dangerous for both of us since I know my way around there! We can do this!”

Exousia managed to smile for just a moment. She looked back in time to see Hades narrow her gaze on Roach suspiciously before shutting the door.

-O-

Megan and Michael descended to the beach where they had planned to meet with Dufaii. But the beach was empty, and their search for him only discovered a set of footprints walking into the water. Megan shook her head and tried not to feel betrayed when she asked, “Why would he have left?”

“I don’t know why demons do any of the cowardly things they do,” Michael said, and snorted in disdain.

“Maybe he found something out about Exousia,” Megan offered, it was the only thing she could think of that made any sense. After all, she thought, if he had wanted to leave them he could have easily just said so before.

“I have the feeling that Exousia won’t be found until she is good and ready for it,” Michael replied, sounding oddly certain.

“Did you know her?” Megan asked.

Michael nodded, seeming somber at this line of conversation. “I was one of her teachers. The girl would have been a formidable soldier. Her heart was fierce, and she spoke nothing but what burned inside of it. But a demon named Kueng and … Raphael … they got to her. They weren’t trying to make Exousia a soldier; they needed her to be a weapon to destroy Ammon.”

“And the Creator?” Megan asked. Even with her loathing towards that being, she could feel that there was still something inside of her that wanted to believe that the ultimate force of good in the universe had things under control. That even though the Creator had let terrible things happen, they could and would step in if things got to a certain point. But her hope in this idea dropped at the instant she heard the hesitation in Michael’s reply.

“I trust the Creator’s plan,” Michael replied. Seeming to sense her despair, he added, “As a teacher, I know the pain of trusting one’s students with the power to fail. One hopes that they will use it for what is right. So if the Creator has entrusted us as their own students, then it is within our power to succeed.”

“What about the demons who tried to succeed?” Megan asked, still trying to piece together both the story between Heaven and Hell. She knew the stories that she’d once learned in church were just myths by now. That the reality of the conflict between angels and demons was not as simple as a few power-hungry monsters stupidly thinking they could usurp a perfectly good, all-knowing, and all-powerful deity. But something had happened, some war that both sides had felt justified in fighting and which still governed their fates even after thousands of years of pain and regret. Megan asked, “Is that why you and Dufaii hate each other?”

“Honestly … I once believed that my anger was on behalf of the Creator,” Michael said, looking out at the walls. “And I thought that I hated Dufaii because he used me to commit a great evil upon the Creator. But in watching all that the gods and even humans have done, I now understand that he didn’t commit a great act of evil. It was an act of preservation … for his kind. Gabriel tried to explain it to me so many times, that the demons had actually saved us, even if it hadn’t been their intention. And I saw … I saw for myself how scared they truly were. I was just … also scared in my own way”

“Then why do you still hate him?” Megan asked.

“Because Dufaii made it personal,” Michael replied. He looked around and sighed. “I don’t think … I could ever forgive him for that.”

Oddly, the sentiment made Megan again think about her parents. Likewise, she would never be able to forgive them. Yet, she knew that she still craved their love, just like when she thought her father had given her the red hoodie. It was a hole inside of her that could never be filled, even if the universe were to somehow flip to make every circumstance ideal for it. So, Megan would hate them forever … because at least hate could numb the pain when the wind blew through.

“I finally understand one thing, though,” Michael said. “I now know how it feels to look up at these walls with only the tiniest hope to make things right. What it feels like for my own people to be hunting me down and making me into a criminal. To see the Creator ever quiet … knowing what is happening and doing nothing. I think that if I did not have an eternity of devotion behind who I am now, I might have been able to betray them all too.”

Megan waited a moment before she said, “We need to find Exousia. Then we’ll find Dufaii and whoever else is on their side. Then we can get the angels who are still loyal to you and-”

“Do not mistake my sentimentality with a wavering spirit,” Michael said sternly. “I will not form a third faction and weaken my brothers and sisters in the coming war against the demons. I will work with Dufaii to find the truth because it was important to the Creator that I did. But that is all.”

“I’m afraid we cannot let you do that,” said the familiar voice of Paya. She rose from a silver light in the water. All around her, more lights appeared until there were several dozens of angels in armor rising from the sea. The guard had drawn their swords and had them ready as they landed on the beach.

Michael drew his sword with his good hand, spinning it a few times as if it were a long staff. “If you imprison me, there will be members of the guard who will fight you without my asking. Surely my finding the truth can’t be as damaging to you as a civil war while demons are getting ready to attack.”

Paya scoffed. “The demons are in no shape to attack us; their rebel commander is now a lunatic bent on hunting down that petty human, wherever she is. No, you’ll come with me quietly to await trial or I will take you by deadly force.”

Megan felt her gaze and realized that the threat was directed at her! Of course, if angels were really immortal, a threat of violence wouldn’t matter to the Archangel, even if he thought he might lose. However, Megan could die, and be trapped in the realm forever!

Michael stepped between her and the angels. He shook his head bitterly and nearly shouted, “Why have you sided with them? What have I ever done to show I was incapable of leading, that I disrespected any of you? You’re smart, Paya, you know that whatever the other Archangels have said about me is false.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Paya said, almost snarling with disgust. “You’re not smart enough to know when a threat is coming, even to the one you pretend to love. And you won’t act until given word by a god who does not speak.”

Michael opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out of it.

Megan was not so robbed of words. She said, “Well maybe if you were honest about what you know, instead of lording it over everyone and toying with people’s lives, he could make a decision. Maybe all of us could try to figure out how to deal with it. But no! You play your stupid games like the rest of them!”

“I’m not going to argue with a human,” Paya said, and then made a gesture towards them. “Take them back to the mountain.”

Then came another splash of water, this time behind the angelic soldiers that had stepped onto the shore. Three silver lights appeared on the surface of the water, which opened to release three distinct figures. The first was a male angel with golden armor, shimmering wings of matching color, and warm brown skin. His sword was on his back, and he held a massive gun that dwarfed her own. Next to him appeared a female demon with minimal black armor that seemed to allow for more motion. Her skin was red, her wings were without feathers, like those of some sort of bat, and long horns spiraled up from her forehead. Hee most distinctive feature, however, were her six arms which each carried a black dagger. The last figure was Dufaii, who carried a cloth baggie in each of his hands. This seemed to be difficult with his shaking arms, but the pain caused his veins to bulge and his face to become more hardened. If anything, he looked more dangerous in his current state.

Without waiting for a formal introduction to the situation or the angels before him, Dufaii flung both baggies and shielded himself with his hood as flames erupted. The flames engulfed most of the angels, including Paya. Those on the outskirts of their formation reacted immediately, jumping aside and setting their sights on their attackers.

There had to be a chain of command because another angel immediately took charge and shouted, “Take out the Godkiller!” This angel then retreaded and took flight towards the wall. He was going for help, and that would mean certain capture.

The fear of it made Megan sick to her stomach and brought a wave of frantic adrenaline. She took aim and fired at the angel several times. Unlike last time, her target was moving. Her first bullet caught his armored shoulder and caused him to spin a little. The second shot was deflected by his arms. And the rest missed as he ducked and weaved into the air with inhuman speed. Then, there was a massive boom that rang louder even than the gun she just fired. The shot struck true and sent the flying angel into a crumpled form that bounced and then slid to a stop in the sand. The angel was still moving though; he stumbled onto his feet and began to run toward the gates until a thrown black dagger landed in the center of his armored back.

“I told you that your toy was useless,” said the red demon as she sped past. She stopped at the body, pulled the angel’s head back by his hair, and made short work of cutting off his head.

Even after Megan had seen what her gun had done to the angel in the mountain, this was a little much. And she felt a similar feeling of shock as before. This wasn’t made any better when she turned around to see the angel in gold armor decapitating the mostly charred bodies and collecting the heads of angels already struck down. The heads were placed into a large cloth sack that was soon stained with gold blood. Megaan tried to speak, saying, “W-what-”

“You cannot expect me to keep up with you, my love,” the angel with a gun said with a slightly bemused smile on his face. He then looked into the sack and began to talk to the heads. “My apologies … this won’t be a lasting situation for you. You have my word.”

“You don’t mean to take them to that place!” Michael said, his face becoming characteristically hard and defiant.

Dufaii replied with acid in his tone. “Your side broke the truce and kept prisoners first, if you’ve forgotten. But we don’t have time to argue. I see another battalion coming.” He painstakingly drew his sword and let it dangle in his grasp as he dragged it across the surface of the water, creating the same silver light as before.

All of them, even Michael, seemed to accept the temporary truce when they saw more flying figures on the horizon. They all dove into the portal–Megan as well. But this time, they did not immediately emerge on the other side of some body of water. Megan felt like she had dived into a murky black lake, with orange embers glowing at the bottom. It wasn’t long before she realized a need for air. She looked up for the surface of the water. But there was no surface. It was just infinite blackness all around her. Dark arms began to grab at her, and she struggled to kick free. But it was no use; they pulled her down. Her lungs began to burn, and it wasn’t long before she had to draw the water into her lungs and everything faded.