Normally, I would do a recap of what was written in those chapters. But, because of the feedback I received, I will, instead, present a synopsis of the plot so far.
At the creation of things and men, the Angels saw (and took) the opportunity to make a power play, and cast Demons as the bad guys (tricking humans into naming The First, a demon, as disobeying HE That Was (God’s) edict about staying away from The Garden and Humans).
Demons and humans were both exiled. Demons were cursed to only feed on the (souls, entities, memories, etc) of corrupt men, making it seem as if demons corrupted men to feed on them. In actuality, it was the stories weaved by Angels which corrupt men. They do so by using guilt induced by religious beliefs. Angels were too successful with that; religion partially corrupts the pious as well. The feeding itself, for both Angels and Demons, is not to much stealing, but as absorbing people’s memories/thoughts/emotions.
There are unbelievers, and their unbelief removes them as candidates for feeding. The Angels are waging war on the unbelievers, both by direct and indirect action. The man who is Shadow (named after he became so) is an unbeliever who lost his family to an Angel. The First is summoned to the unbeliever as the man grieves the loss of his wife and kids. The man’s anger feeds the energy/power to such a level the First sees an opportunity to perhaps have a powerful ally to challenge the Angels.
Note: I had started the story with impersonal pronouns (thinking myself clever). Gods, angels, and demons might not be humans, but there is no substitute for saying “he” when referring to an entity; “it” becomes confusing. Too confusing for this less-than-clever writer. Yes, I went back and changed the original.
The Fall of Angels (Chapters 4-6)
By E. J. D’Alise (Disperser)
Copyright December 2012, January 2013
Chapter Four – Shadow
“Take me.” The man did not look away as he offered himself once more. The First almost reached out . . . but stopped. “Who are you?” He asked, instead.
The man paused. He looked at the three urns. When the man spoke, it was but a whisper, but The First felt a resurgence of the power channeling from the man. The distraction almost made him miss what the man said.
“I am an ordinary man. I have nothing to offer . . . all that I had, was taken from me.”
The First controlled the urge to tap into the power, to use its raw force, and assure his existence for centuries to come. Perhaps to even mount a challenge to the Angels. A thought began to form.
He knew the story of The Christ. No, not the written story. The Christ had appeared at the same time of the disappearance of the archangel Iesous. The First suspected HE had shared a measure HIS power with Iesous. Not the Son of God, as humans referred to him, but a progeny.
The First had encountered The Christ once. A battle had been fought in the desert, and while it had been close, The Christ had been too powerful . . . but not as powerful as what emanated from this ordinary man.
“Would you like to put a stop to it?” The First shrank his figure, smoke flowing from him, spilling to cover the floor, rising to the height of the man’s knees, and lapping higher as if wanting to climb.
“What?” The man looked at The First, as if seeing him for the first time.
“Would you like to keep it from happening to others?” The First moved as he spoke, circling to the other side of the man.
The man’s eyes followed him. The First could literally feel the calculating brain behind them. He knew of Sentient Swords who could not match the fierceness and sharpness he sensed. This man might even be able to bring them back from whence they had retreated. One in particular, he thought would be a perfect match. Sable Slayer would serve this man well.
The moment dragged. At last, The First felt the raw power of the the man focus; a decision had been made, and The First knew what it was even before the man spoke the words “What do I need to do?”
Chapter Five – Transcendence
The First returned to the chosen now. Shadow was silent and still, and The First knew he was elsewhere in time and space. He watched as Shadow grew so dark as to absorb all light. By contrast, his own darkness seemed a pale luminescence. He reached out . . . and quickly drew back.
Again he wondered what he had spawned, and thought back.
~ ~ ~ ~
“What do I need to do?”
The smoke was already rising, covering the human form as it rose. The man stood still, even as it reached his eyes, and finally covered him from head to toe.
The flesh is but a prison. Your mind is but a scabbard. Say the word, and I shall free and unsheathe you.
Go for it.
The First expected the man to scream. He could not be sure of what it might feel like, but this was literally a rendering of the man’s energy, every bit of the forces that bound his mortal shell in a solid form released and captured by the smoke that surrounded it. All that, and one more thing. Extracting the mind from the finite mechanics of the brain, and freeing it into time and space.
The First had never done this. He knew it could be done because his own being had been so freed, and he also knew a part of him would have to guide the man through the journey. That part of him would not return.
The man’s mind would take it, use it as fuel, and shape itself into something new. What, The First did not know.
The man did not scream, but The First nearly did. The intensity of the power ripped from him more than he had intended to give, and he saw, for the briefest of moments, a vague outline form . . . no more than a shadow. Just before dissipating, the shadow absorbed all light. For the first time in his long life, The First understood nothingness; the absence of everything. Then he once again stood, shaken, in an empty room. Alone.
Chapter Six – Focus
And then he felt it. Zeus, in his time, would similarly announce his approach, but this was multiple times more . . . intense.
Everything stilled, the very air molecules unmoving, waiting. Waiting for release. In that stillness, it was easy to see. No. It was easy not to see; an infinitely small absence of everything, more an awareness of it, than actual perception. Then a dot. A dot that slowly grew as The First watched.
The First could not tell where the dot ended, and the world began. Even as it grew, he could not really see it, or its boundaries. It was more as if a portion of reality was absent. And then Shadow stood in front of him. He did not yet look like Shadow. Looking very much like the ordinary man of a short time before, the sight belied what The First knew was there. Something powerful. Something new.
“Tell me of the things that are, of time of space, of what you know of the enemy.” The man grew into Shadow as he spoke. The First thought that if darkness could shine, it would look thus.
~ ~ ~
“I am called elsewhere.”
Shadow’s words brought The First back to the chosen now.
“Trouble?” he asked.
“It’s Michael. I must see to my men.” Even as he spoke, Shadow’s form began to dissolve, and was gone.
~ ~To be continued~ ~
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. . . my FP ward . . . chieken shit.