Chapter III
A ten-minute ride saw Dante and me at Samael's icy fortress. It looked downright imposing in the dusky twilight that covered the land. I reined Dante in at the edge of the castle's moat and hailed the guard tower.
"Who goes there?!"
"I am Za'afiel," I replied, "Lord Samael is expecting me."
"Enter," the demon guard replied. The drawbridge was lowered and Dante and I crossed into Samael's courtyard. An armored demon approached us holding up a hand, signaling us to halt.
"Wait here, my lord," he said, "A messenger is announcing your arrival to Lord Samael. It will only take a moment."
"Thank you," I replied imperiously, "I don't want to keep him waiting."
In about five minutes, Samael walked out into the courtyard holding his arms open in a broad, welcoming pose and smiling widely. I dismounted and held my fist over my heart in a symbol of camaraderie while bowing my head.
"Za'afiel, my boy, you're early!" he boomed magnanimously.
"What's the point in waiting?" I asked, looking up.
"I agree," said Samael with a slight nodding motion of his head, "Shall we?"
"What's first?" I asked.
"Since you're attired for it, combat," said the Demon Lord, "I want to see just how efficient and ruthless you can be on the field of battle. You will be tested in varying and increasing degrees of difficulty. You must kill anyone and anything that appears before you. My soldiers must be willing and able to kill without hesitation."
I was silent. I didn't like where this was going. What Samael was describing was approaching brutality; something I could not, and did not, condone on the field of battle. Ruthlessness and efficiency I could understand. I could also understand mercilessness. However, brutality: the lack of mercy while perpetrating slow, torturous executions of enemies and civilians alike on the battlefield and off, was something that absolutely sickened me. I had seen it too many times in my Avenger memories, as well as some instances in my own lifetime. Brutality on the battlefield led to despotism and tyranny; the very things I had been called, as an Avenger for God, to combat.
Now, I was being called by a demon to do those very things. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I should have seen it coming. Demons on the field of battle were relentless and brutally merciless. Being a commander of an army of demons would, in a minion of Hell's eyes, require that commander to be equally as brutal and merciless in order to command his troops. I felt ill at ease with the events that were unfolding, but I followed Samael to the River Phlegethon, where he had set up a battlefield.
I stared across the vast, barren plain at the army that Samael identified as my adversaries for this exercise. It consisted of several hundred demon foot soldiers, pikemen, archers, and a few dozen Hellhounds. Sitting on a fine horse in the rear of the army, I saw a tall figure in shining, golden platemail armor. This, I assumed, was the army's commanding officer.
"This exercise will simulate an insurrection," Samael informed me, "Your enemy's force numbers at almost one thousand strong. Your strike force will consist of only two hundred. It will be your job to lead them to a victory against this larger force. The cost to your own force is not an issue. They are only demons. They are easily replaced. Your only concern should be eliminating your enemy's army and capturing the leader alive so that he can be interrogated. Do you understand your instructions?"
"Yes, my Lord," I replied.
"Good. The battle will begin when the trumpets sound."
"My Lord," I said, "I have only my wings and my sword. How can I be expected to defeat demons without powers?"
"Your powers have been returned to you," said Samael, starting to fade away, "albeit in a slightly altered form."
As Samael dissolved into thin air, a group of two hundred slavering, armored, sword- and axe-wielding demons appeared at my side.
"When do we strike, my lord?" one of them demanded eagerly.
"When I have thought of a strategy," I replied, my mind working furiously to do just that, "Our enemies outnumber us nearly five to one, so we can't count on brute force to overcome them. We have to outsmart the other side, if we're going to defeat them. Now, I can see that your powers of intelligence aren't quite to the level that this requires…"
"My lord, we're only grunts," the demon responded, "Our job is to follow orders, not think."
"I realize that… grunt," I said, emphasizing the word "grunt" for effect, "I also realize that the trumpets of war have just been sounded. Now, you see that the other army is not marching towards us. They know that they outnumber us and that they are better equipped than we are. They know that, in a contest of pure, brute strength, they would defeat us easily; and they are doubtlessly expecting us to make a frontal charge. Hmm…let's think about this…What kind of battle knowledge do you demons possess?"
"Anything that you need us to know, sir," the grunt replied.
"Do you know classic phalanx formations?"
"Of course, my lord," the grunt replied, inclining his head lightly, "But don't phalanxes work without shields, which we do not have."
"Leave that to me," I replied, "The rest of you wait here. I'm going to bring back shields for at least seventy of you. Don't ask me how, but I will do it."
I spread my wings and reached inside myself for my powers. I felt something there, both familiar and entirely alien at the same time. It felt like my old powers had felt, but…darker; more malicious. I unleashed the power inside of me. I felt amazingly powerful! It was wonderful to feel so mighty again. My demon horde all looked at me in astonishment. Clearly a great change had taken place in my appearance.
"Grunt," my deep voice rasped, "raise your sword. I would see myself in it."
The solder-demon raised his broad-bladed weapon until it was eye-level with me. I almost cried out with shock at my own appearance. My old warrior form saw me transformed into an angelic being with snow-white hair and eyes. Now, I beheld in my reflection a being with raven-black hair and eyes. I had become a Fallen Angel.
So it has come to pass that Za'afiel has fallen, I thought sadly, Hopefully this will not remain the case once I have freed Rei and myself from Hell.
I saw, spreading from my back, six pitch-black wings that beat up dust and ash from the scorched ground. I drew my sword from my scabbard. The blade was still made of steel, but it was black steel that radiated power. I was reminded of my battle with Lucifer.
Let's see what I can still do, I thought.
I took off powerfully from the ground, manifesting myself with an aura of power for intimidation. I sensed danger; the archers were preparing to loose a volley at me. I hovered in the air about fifty yards from their front line.
"Loose!" rang out the commander's voice.
At once, nearly three hundred arrows were launched in my direction. Calmly, I stood my ground. As the deadly shafts neared me, I unleashed my AT Field; or tried, anyways. My field didn't come up. Thinking fast, I unleashed a wave of Flame. It wasn't my old Heavenflame, of course. These flames were as black as the night sky. I spread them before me, instantly incinerating all of the arrows. I bellowed a war cry.
"Archers! Draw!" the commander yelled, "Pikemen! Raise pikes!"
Twelve-foot long pikes were raised up skyward. I dropped back to the ground and held my sword before me.
"Come at me, then, you miserable curs!" I snarled, "You think to challenge me?! HA! You are not worthy!"
"Archers! Loose!" the commander ordered.
This time, I knew what to do, and these arrows were quickly disposed of as easily as the first volley had been. The charge was sounded, and the pikemen advanced, pointing their deadly weapons at me. Calmly, I raised my sword and waited. When they reached the appropriate distance, I whirled in place, striking off the tips of each spear. The pikemen, their weapons now useless, retreated back behind the line of advancing foot soldiers and Hellhounds.
The snarling, slavering beasts reached me first. The first one to reach me was a large Rottweiler. He was quickly bisected by my black blade. Seven more of the hounds met similar fates before the swordsmen caught up with them. Now, I had a real fight on my hands. I parried and blocked, and I struck and I slashed. Heads of dozens of demons rolled around me while my armor withstood all of their attacks with the greatest of ease. Arrows started raining from the sky again and I was forced to retreat.
"You did not bring shields with you, my lord," the lead grunt observed stupidly. In a fit of battle rage and irritation, I beheaded him.
"Does anyone else have a problem with not having shields?!" I demanded cruelly. Heads shook rapidly to the negative.
"Good," I grunted, "Now, charge them! I've softened them up for you, now get in there and destroy them! No mercy! No quarter! Take no prisoners!"
Roaring and howling, my band of demons charged the field. Arrows again began to rain from the sky and ten of my warriors were felled before I held a curtain of flame over our heads to shield us from the deadly rain. My warriors were as good as their word. They held nothing back; gave no room, no quarter. While they occupied the swordsmen, I swooped down on the archers and slaughtered them. The pikemen stormed onto the field and picked up weapons dropped by their slain comrades. My band was quickly surrounded and began to be overwhelmed by the other side's superior numbers. My first impulse was to try and rescue them.
No, I told myself, They're expendable. Concentrate on the leader. Disarm him and take him alive. Those are your orders.
No, another part of me battled back, They're my men. I've been given charge of them. Even if this is a suicide mission, I've got to help them kill the other army. Samael only wants the leader alive, no one else.
I swooped back into the fray, lopping off heads and searing away dozens of demons with my Blackfire. By now, over half of my squad had been killed, but they still fought on. They would fight to the last demon. Any Mortal general would kill to have such an army at their disposal. There would be no retreat. There would be no surrender. With my aid, my diminished squad began to retake the field.
There was a battle cry, and then a massive spray of blood, as twenty of my men were impaled on a great spear at once. I looked and saw the army's commander charging to the fray. With a wave of his hand, he called his spear back to him. I leapt clear of the melee and met him in single combat.
Now that I saw him up close and concentrated on him, I saw that he had dark wings, just like my own. As our weapons collided, sparks flew away from them, glinting off of this mysterious Angel's golden armor.
"Surrender," I growled as we battled for dominance, "I have been ordered to take you alive."
"I will never surrender," the man grunted back, "You'll have to kill me. And I hope you do it quickly."
"My men are mopping up the last of your army," I said viciously, "They'll come for you next. Surrender to me, and your life will be spared."
"Never!"
"Then I will best you and take you anyway!" I roared, striking with my sword and rolling away.
My legs were swept out from beneath me by the spear's long shaft. My demon soldiers made to come to my aid.
"Stay back!" I ordered, "This is single combat. Do not interfere!"
The demons stayed obediently back as I kicked back to my feet. I concentrated my energy into a ball in my left hand and launched it. A massive, black energy beam lanced from my palm, striking the other Angel squarely in the chest. I pressed in on him, kicking his spear from his hands and pinning him to the dirt and placing the tip of my sword to his throat.
"Do you yield?" I asked, panting heavily.
"Yes," the other Angel replied softly, not meeting my eye, "But you have doomed me, Za'afiel. Because I have failed to defeat you, Samael will torture me."
"This test was mine!" I snapped, "And I passed it!"
"So you did, my boy, so you did," Samael laughed, appearing from the air around us, "You did splendidly! The flame waves and energy bolts were an excellent touch, if I do say so myself. Raphael, I'm disappointed in you. You used to be a great leader way back when you were a part of Heaven's army. What happened? You had numbers, you had weapons, and you had power, and yet you still lost?"
"He's an Avenger, Lord Samael," Raphael said, looking at the ground, "I was only an Archangel. Now, I am nothing."
"That's right," said Samael, "You are nothing. You will always be…nothing. Get out of my sight."
Raphael turned and walked away. Suddenly, I felt remorse. I had crushed him so badly, that he had lost face in the eyes of his supreme commander. Furthermore, the bodies of the dead had all vanished. I whistled for Dante and mounted into his saddle.
"My Lord," I queried, "What's happened to me? What has become of my powers?"
"They've changed, of course," Samael replied, "You're no longer bound by the fetters of Yahweh's Law. You've become a Fallen Angel. Your powers are now bound only by my Law. Your old powers were my inspiration for these new ones, but they're very much the same as your old ones. Of course, I couldn't permit you to keep that nasty little AT Field of yours. That would just make your fights too easy. Also, your telepathy? No, no…can't allow it. Too easy to find out things you shouldn't know. Other than that, your powers are the same as they used to be, only darker, as you've discovered."
"Of course, my Lord," I said, bowing slightly in my saddle, "Now, what's next? I've tasted combat and I want more."
"Oh, your bloodlust in admirable," said Samael, "I've made my choice well. Next, you have only to defeat Azazel in single combat. Be warned, however: he will not be as easily defeated as Raphael. Azazel!"
The name rang out through the depths of all Hell. Soon, I saw a figure winging over the horizon towards us. He bore black wings and surrounded himself in a halo of dark energy. It could only be Azazel.
"You summoned me, my Lord?" Azazel asked, coming to land with us.
"I did," said Samael, "Azazel, you will face Za'afiel now in single combat. The battle will continue until one or the other of you yields in defeat. Show no mercy, give no quarter. Begin!"
Without a moment's warning, Azazel lashed out at me with a great sword. Caught almost unawares, I didn't quite pull back fast enough, and a slash appeared across my chest where his sword ripped through my armor and into me. I roared with pain and fired Blackfire at the Dark Angel. He laughed as his wings closed in front of him, shielding him from my attack. I used the brief respite to heal myself and prepare myself to launch another assault. When Azazel opened his wings, he found me toe-to-toe with him, sword singing through the air. Now, he was on the defensive. Energy crackled in the air around us and the ground split and rumbled. Dust spirals sprouted from the ground and formed great, grey funnel clouds. Chaos itself seemed to be descending upon our battlefield.
Azazel and I found ourselves removed of our weapons and engaged each other hand-to-hand. My muscles bulged to the absolute limits of their great, sinewy strength, as did Azazel's. We struggled valiantly against each other, neither surrendering an inch of ground. I felt my strength beginning to wane. My knees buckled beneath me and I dropped to one knee, still grappling with my opponent. Sweat poured down my body beneath my heavy armor.
With a loud cry, I repulsed Azazel from me with a blast of energy. I tore my armor from my body. The links of forged steel ripped asunder in my hands as easily as if it were the merest tissue-paper. My body reveled in the lightness that I felt. It seemed to renew my strength. I threw myself back at Azazel, determined to win this brawl. So enraptured was I in the heat of the battle that I almost didn't see my opponent pick up his blade and swing it at me. Had I been but a heartbeat slower in my reactions, my head would have been separated from my shoulders. I ducked the swing and summoned my sword back to my own hand. The blades collided again and again. Finally, I fired an energy blast at Azazel's face, forcing him to defend. When he did, I struck at his hand with the pommel of my sword, knocking his blade free from his grasp. As it hit the ground, I kicked it away, swept my opponent's legs out from under him, and brought my blade down in a vicious chopping motion, stopping a hair's breadth from his exposed throat.
"You're dead…Azazel…" I panted.
"Very well fought, young Avenger," Azazel congratulated me, not seeming the least bit winded, "I am…proud to have been defeated by you. You have earned this victory. Revel in it."
I lifted my blade and sheathed it. I held out a hand to Azazel. He accepted it and climbed back to his feet. Samael, who had been watching the whole time, stepped over to us and laughed heartily.
"I knew you Avengers were a hearty breed, but I never suspected that you'd be this formidable!" he crowed, "You've just defeated my greatest warrior, Za'afiel, other than myself, of course."
"Of course," I agreed. Though, secretly, I doubted if Samael was half of the warrior he made himself out to be. After all, when I had faced him in the Mortal Realm, he had not faced me directly, but had loosed his army on me first.
"You could have killed me, and doubtlessly you should have," Azazel said to me, "Yet you stayed your hand and showed mercy. Why?"
"I was ordered only to defeat you," I replied, "not to kill you. Had my order been to kill you, Azazel, you would be dead now, rest assured with that knowledge."
"You will not hesitate to kill if ordered to?" Samael asked.
"No, my Lord," I replied. Inwardly, I doubted myself, though. Could I kill anyone if ordered to?
"We'll test that devotion right now," said Samael, "Turn your back, Za'afiel."
"My Lord?"
"Face the other way," Samael repeated, "Turn around when Azazel tells you to and slay whatever stands before you."
"Yes, my Lord," I answered, turning my back on the two dark beings.
I heard a fading chuckle; I suspected Samael had disappeared. A chill ran down my spine as I thought about what he might have in store for me. My breath caught in my chest when I heard Azazel's voice:
"Turn and fight, Za'afiel."
I wheeled in place, sword raised, ready to strike a killing blow. In an instant, everything around me froze as I froze and stared in abject horror at who was standing before me.
It was Rei.