Chapter Six: Uriel’s Reckoning

Day One: Dawn

It had been a restless night; Uriel’s dreams had been the stuff of nightmares, eternally evading the self-righteous Seraphim.

In his dreams, the Seraphim finally caught him. They had laid their hands upon his waist, shaking gently. The force of the motion had been enough to jolt Uriel from his sleep. When the hands on his side proved to be real, Uriel lashed out, clutching someone’s wrist and yanking downwards.

An old man cried out in surprise, and lost his balance, falling onto the bed and bracing himself on his hands. He groaned in pain, clutching his hip as he tried to get to his feet. Uriel realized he had nearly assaulted the man who had given him shelter, and relaxed his grip.

”By Yang…” Uriel exhaled. He quickly got up, throwing off the woolen blanket. Standing behind the portly old man, Uriel took a gentle, but firm hold of his shoulders and helped him from the bed. The old man hopped gingerly on his left foot, refusing to set his right one to the ground for a moment. Uriel helped him maintain his balance as the old man slowly moved his hand and set his foot down.

”I’m sorry,” Uriel spoke softly, “I didn’t—“

The old man spun quickly, and Uriel’s surprise at the man’s agility was quickly replaced by a sense of dread. The somberness with which the man spoke his words was matched by the fearful intensity of his fading blue eyes.

”Uriel, you must leave this place.”

A thousand questions flooded Uriel’s mind as the old man quickly turned him around and hobbled behind, pushing him out of the room. Uriel passed the open window of the bedroom just before the man shoved him past it. It was just past dawn, the sky a pleasant shade of orange as the sun began to make its presence known. The faint sound of hammering metal on metal was heard outside, from the ground below. Uriel managed to steal a quick glance, and could’ve sworn…

No…no, it couldn’t be…

Just before he exited the room, Uriel had seen a host of small, winged black beasts working together. Their wings beat like hummingbirds as they flew, some of them working to hoist a large piece of reflective glass into the air as their comrades began to nail it inside of a large, brass frame.

As odd as this seemed, this was not was caught Uriel’s attention.

What caused him to take pause was the young man, in an unblemished white robe, emblazoned with the red x-style cross their lord Yang had sacrificed his mortal life on. This was the robe of a Seraphim officer.

As Uriel tried to sort through the questions in his mind, the old man spoke behind him, almost throwing him down the worn wooden staircase. “Please forgive me, my lord,” He said, genuine sadness in his voice, “This is not what I wanted…not all of us agree with the way you have been treated since…Eden…”

Why is a Seraphim aiding in the construction of a mirror?!

That was the first solid question to form in Uriel’s mind. He tried to turn back towards the old man as they reached the first floor of the old cabin, but the old man would have none of it. “What’s going on, old man?” Uriel tried. As they reached the large front room, Uriel stepped away from the man and turned to face him. “What. Is going. On?” Uriel said firmly. “Why is a Seraphim officer working with the other side?”

”That,” A young, authoritative voice spoke from the doorway off to his left, “is none of your affair, Uriel.”

Uriel turned to the Seraphim. Under normal circumstances, this boy wasn’t old enough to have wings, much less wield the power he did. The old man seemed to shrink in the presence of the officer. Uriel noticed that the Seraphim was alone.

“Are you going to invite your friends in?” Uriel spoke, challenging. The seraphim scowled. “I know not what you mean, sir.”

Uriel nodded his head towards the Seraphim, turning to face him fully. “Don’t play dumb with me, boy. You’re not smart enough for it. I mean the imps you had with you; the ones who were helping you construct that thing?”

Neither the Seraphim nor the old man said anything.

“I’m pretty certain they still send you straight to Hell for treason,” Uriel growled, “It should be much easier to conspire with the enemy—once you’re burning right alongside them.”

”You aren’t fit to speak to me of treason, old man. You know nothing of what is to happen here. My orders come from within the council of Yang himself.”

”That’s a lie.” The retort was almost involuntary. Uriel just knew that it couldn’t be true; no one Yang trusted would ever allow a portal between worlds to be constructed in one of Heaven’s few remaining cities. Especially this city.

”Is it.” The Seraphim’s return was equally confident, and Raphael was surprised that the boy believed what he was saying.

”It…is the truth.”
Uriel whirled around, surprised that the old man had said anything. Uriel’s mouth fell open. “…what?”

The old man looked first to the Seraphim, and then to Uriel. “The Seraphim…have executive permission to be here.”

The Seraphim exhaled as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Well, I’m happy that could be resolved without bloodshed.” He looked to Uriel, gesturing for him to follow. “Now, Uriel, I must ask you to come with me. I will escort you back to the palace, where you may answer for your crimes against Heaven,” The Seraphim smiled in a chilling fashion, “where I am more than certain they still send you straight to Hell.”

Uriel suddenly didn’t like his options. There was no way he was going anywhere alone with the Seraphim; he’d never be heard from again, until the sands washed away to reveal his crystallized corpse.

But…he couldn’t leave the city to whatever the Seraphim were planning—and he wasn’t sure if he could stand up to one of their officers.

As if finalizing his last thought, Uriel felt a twinge of pain emanate through from the stab wound, which had yet to heal.

Uriel clenched his right fist. The time had passed long ago when he still had a choice.

”No.” He spoke plainly.

The Seraphim was incredulous.

“Excuse me?”

”I’m not going anywhere with you.” Uriel grumbled, tensing, bracing for the inevitable, “And I don’t care what permission you think you have from the royal council. You have no permission from me.”

The Seraphim turned, looking darkly to Uriel as he faced him fully. “Your decision, Uriel.”

Uriel had just begun to raise his hands when the Seraphim moved with an impossible speed. He seemed to meld with the wind, and was in  front of Uriel before the veteran angel had a chance to blink. Before Uriel could mount a defense, the Seraphim thrust a fist squarely into his injury. Uriel opened his mouth but was unable to scream as blood gushed freely from his wound. Pain flooded his entire body, and he felt his muscles ache, tensing as he was sent flying backwards, towards the wall.

Uriel’s eyes were closed as he tried to block out the pain; he hadn’t seen the Seraphim move. He only felt a solid blow lodge once, twice at the base of his spine, and Uriel was splayed backwards, his neck snapping back. He was momentarily unable to feel his legs as agony cut the feeling from his spine in half.

He still couldn’t see the Seraphim. He only felt the heel of the young man’s boot strike solidly into his ribcage, just above his knife wound. Uriel was sent flying across the room, smashing through a table and rolling before coming to a stop, face-down on the hardwood floor.

Uriel was able to move the fingers on his right hand. Breathing was an effort; he couldn’t inhale too much without pressing against his ribs. The kick might have cracked one.

When Uriel looked up, he could see the old man through waves of nausea and discomfort. He was the portrait of a man defeated; shoulders slumped, head down, nodding as the Seraphim spoke something to him that Uriel couldn’t hear.

”Why…” Uriel forced, although it felt like something was trying to beat its way out of his chest, “Why are you doing this…why here?”

The Seraphim looked to Uriel as though he was a stubborn insect. He exhaled pitifully, strolling towards the fallen angel. “I know you’ve given a lot for Heaven, Uriel.” The seraphim spoke, “And I know you didn’t do what they say you did.”

The Seraphim squatted before Uriel, who saw genuine remorse in the face of the Seraphim. The boy shook his head. “It’s just that…your time has passed, old man. I mean, you did the best you could, and look what has happened. The land is dying, Satan has been killed, and Lucifer has become our enemy.”

The Seraphim pointed an accusing finger towards Uriel. “All of this…on your watch.”

The Seraphim rose. “Our order was created to ensure not just the safety and survival of Heaven, but also it’s purity.”

”And you’ll do that,” Uriel managed, “By infesting our land with the fallen?”

”Of course not. Don’t you see?”
The Seraphim pointed back towards the mirror. “When they come through, we will annihilate them.”

Uriel frowned. The Seraphim saw it and continued. “When the demons come through, we, the Seraphim, will be waiting for them, and we will slaughter every last one of them. We have mirrors set up in other villages in Heaven, with Seraphim guarding them as well. We expect to have Yin’s forces decimated inside of a week.”

Again, the Seraphim squatted, speaking in a hushed tone that only the two of them could hear. “So you see, old man, we have no need for you or…” he reached into Uriel’s robe and pulled out the invitation. Scoffiing at the parchment, he carelessly tossed it aside. “…this. The Nexus Stone need not be shattered, and no more rogues need to be created.”

”And what happens,” Came the voice of the old man, “When Yin becomes wise to your plan and sends forth demons that the Seraphim cannot hold off?”

Taken by surprise, the Seraphim turned back to the old man. “Yin can throw nothing at us we haven’t already seen.”

Uriel looked up to the boy. “That’s what we thought…at Eden.”

The Seraphim was glowering to Uriel when the old man continued. “This is not something the people want.” He said with conviction, “and your shortsightedness will lead to the death of us all.”

The Seraphim raised his hand, firing a bolt of white energy that struck the old man cleanly in his chest. The bolt almost immediately turned him into crystal, and his body shattered as it struck the far wall.

A small blue orb rose from the remains. Almost aimlessly, it drifted outside and into the sky.

Uriel had seen enough.
He reached out, snatching the Seraphim by his ankle. He brought the officer to the ground with a single jerking motion, and the boy landed hard, arms ahead of him.

Uriel clutched the boy’s legs and began pulling him closer. The boy turned around, aiming another killing hand towards Uriel’s face. Uriel reached up and grabbed the boy’s fist. In a show of sheer strength, Uriel clenched so tightly around the boy’s hand that he was able to intertwine his own fingers. Uriel nearly closed his fist around the boy’s hand, snapping each one of his fingers.

In the moment the boy screamed, clutching his ruined hand, Uriel scrambled up, wrapping his arm around the officer’s neck, constricting as he brought his other hand to the back of the boy’s head.

He’s just a boy…
As the Seraphim weakly struggled, unable to speak and fighting for air, Uriel fought against his own conscience. The boy wasn’t much older than some of the residents at Eden.
And he murdered a man…in cold blood.

”Does it…” the Seraphim finally managed, “Does this…get any easier?”
A quiet rage quickly enveloped Uriel. With one final tensing of his arm and a quick, final motion with his hand, the Seraphim was no more.

Uriel closed his eyes as the crystallizing process began, soft flesh becoming hard glass beneath his grasp. He didn’t want to see it happening.

When the process was finished, he let the crystal statue fall to the ground.

”No,” Uriel answered softly, “it doesn’t.”

The pain wasn’t so bad now; Uriel rose to his feet, trying to make sense of everything that had just occurred. He had come to this place looking for lodging before continuing to Asgard…and stumbled across something horrific.

The Seraphim were working to bring demons into Heaven. Uriel thought darkly to himself; this was what happened when you gave power to those who had no idea what to do with it.

Uriel walked over to the invitation, stooping to pick it up. There were no second thoughts. He tore the parchment in half and let it drop.

He headed for the door with the intention of destroying the mirror. When that was finished, he was going to get some answers.