Chapter Ten: The Regent Returns

Chapter One: Michael

Chapter Nine: Inferno

Day One: Mid-Day

Tired and sweating, with his hands wrapped in cloth torn from his robe, Uriel knelt before the mirror, which now lay frameless and flat on the ground. As he lowered himself, he fired his right fist into the mirror’s center. The glass immediately fractured, spiderwebbing into many fragments and revealing the sand floor.

It had taken nearly four hours to complete the task. Uriel rose and allowed himself a deep breath and the satisfaction of a job well done.
The destruction of a mirror was a painstaking process. Uriel’s experience had taught him that if it was done wrong, the consequences were disastrous. Everyone present at the destruction of the first mirror had learned the first and most important rule; never shatter the glass first.

Had the frame been smaller, Uriel could’ve done the job bare-handedly. Since this mirror was exponentially larger than any he had seen before it, he had been forced to scour Rendam for tools. Upon finding some, he had torn apart the frame piece by piece, cutting up his hands in the process.

It appeared that the old man slain by the Seraphim was the last resident of Rendam. There was an invisible, but almost tangible, sense of anger that permeated Uriel’s being as he journeyed throughout the town in search of equipment, but not another living soul. Uriel remembered that after the mountain’s first eruption, the few survivors had refused to abandon their city. Instead, they became the first line of defense should the mountain explode again. It was a duty they took seriously, all the way to their graves.

What the mountain had begun with the town’s populace, the Seraphim had finished. Uriel took a little comfort in knowing that he had at least avenged the senseless death of the man who had been kind to him.
He was surprised that the Seraphim hadn’t sent anyone to check on their comrade. Uriel knew he had been lucky before, catching the one off-guard. He wasn’t about to take his chances with a unit, especially if they were ready for him. If they were coming, he needed to be somewhere else. There was nothing left for him in Rendam, anyway—or anywhere else. Between the Holy Sefiroth and the Seraphim, it was just a matter of time until he was caught.

If he chose to run.

Standing in the center of a ghost town, Uriel made a fateful decision.
The Nexus Stone plan was a joke; if Yang succeeded, he’d be creating something far more powerful, and likely far worse, than the Seraphim. Uriel wouldn’t be party to that. He was just a soldier; he cleaned up the mess without contributing to it.

Fugitive or not, he had come into extremely privileged information; the Seraphim, touted as the finest Heaven had to offer, were importing demons and killing them. It may have seemed like a good idea in theory, but there had to be more to it than that. Yin wouldn’t willingly sacrifice so many of her own, not unless…

Unless she was testing the Seraphim.

Pushing back demonic incursions was outside of the Seraphim duties. They just policed the angels. Still, they were more powerful than any four members of the Holy Sefiroth. Yin could rightfully construe them as a threat, and if she did, when she learned what they were capable of…

She’d send something through no one could deal with.

The pieces began to fall into place even as Uriel picked up two pieces of ruined bronze, summoning energy from within his being and superheating his hands. Within seconds, the bronze lit up with the same orange hue as the sun.

Uriel dropped to his knees as his mind continued to work. There was more to it than that. Yin should never have been made aware that the Seraphim existed. Now that she did, who was to say the inexperienced Seraphim had killed every demon they imported?

Horror shot through Uriel with the force of an arrow through the gut. He remembered seeing the Seraphim working with the imps in the construction of the mirror he had just taken down. Those imps had gotten away. Who knew where they were now…

He silently cursed himself for allowing their escape. Angrily, he struck the heated bronze together, and their tips exploded in an array of brightly-colored orange sparks before erupting into flames. Holding the bronze together, Uriel lowered the pieces to the sand, which caught fire and roared.

As the supernatural fire came to life before him, a haunting question resonated through Uriel’s mind.

What if Yin knew about the Nexus Stone plan?

She might throw all of Hell their way to keep the stone intact, and with the Holy Sefiroth depleted and reeling from the slaughter at Eden, it wouldn’t be much of a fight.

Uriel looked to the fire. “Fire,” he spoke mentally, “I must confer with you.”
Aside from the quieted crackling, and the gentle swaying of the flames in the wind, there was no response. Uriel frowned. Fire was eternally angry, unmerciful, and destructive. Sometimes, it needed to be coaxed.
“FIRE.” Uriel roared telepathically, “YOUR MASTER SUMMONS YOU.”

“Hmph” came a darkly-voiced, subdued reply as the fire seemed to die off a bit, “My master. You presume much, Uriel.”

“I am your Regent.” Uriel shot back. “You are mine to do with as I see fit, as governed by Lord Yang our god. Away with your resistance, before I throw a well onto you.”

To fire, the threat of water was the equivalent of throwing salt on a snail. There were much less painful ways to die. Most fire just preferred suffocation when the end came.

“What do you want?” The fire demanded, beaten.

“My injuries.” Uriel replied. “Heal them, and then I have another task for you.”

The fire did not respond, but Uriel felt the effects almost immediately. The heat, just enough to be uncomfortable, focused on his stab wound first. Uriel grit his teeth as he felt the wound cauterize, sealing up at last.

The cloths on his hands slowly grew flames as small fires slowly drew from the outside of his palms inward, working along the cuts he had sustained. Within seconds, his hands were like new, and the ashes of the cloth Uriel had ripped from his robe dropped to the ground.

“What else can I do for you, my Regent?” Fire spoke the last words with the disdain that came from being controlled by a cruel master. Uriel had to remind himself that fire was always this testy.
“Extend your presence,” Uriel commanded, “So I may Reach without detection.”

Again, there was no response in his mind, but the fire suddenly shot into the air, swirling and roaring angrily. If any Angel or Demon attempted to use their inherent telepathic link, Uriel’s presence would be cloaked by the fire. This also allowed him to see all of Heaven without being keyed by the Seraphim, who were surely looking for him.

Uriel closed his eyes. His subconscious was instantly swept over the length and breadth of Heaven, and as usual, Uriel had to fight not to be overcome by sadness. Racing over the surface with the speed of sound, Uriel was reminded that not all of Heaven was barren wasteland. Once, lush greenery bearing every fruit and vegetable imaginable weaved its way through the many cities of Heaven, which sprawled out so greatly that they were nearly connected.

Most of these cities were now as silent as the grave, and just as lifeless. Over three million lives had been lost since the start of the war. Most of the cities now stood empty, dilapidated, and crumbling, huge towers falling over each other. Of the three major cities—Yethra, Yevah, and Yevon—only the Kingdom Capitol still stood. Angels had begun moving closer to the Kingdom, hoping that being nearer the Holy Sefiroth would ensure their safety. Uriel had heard rumors that the Capitol building had recently been attacked–

There.

Roughly two hundred miles southeast…not too far from Beal City, Uriel keyed to the presence of nine (ten?) extraordinarily powerful, but young energies. These were energies that felt as if, when combined, they could tear Heaven in two. They could only be the Seraphim.
They surrounded four subdued energy pulses that Uriel couldn’t categorize. It was almost as though the energy was dormant—unaware of its own power. This was usually found in a newborn, but the anger and confusion that accompanied these energies made them mature. Uriel scowled. Not angelic, nor demonic, which only left…

Uriel’s eyes snapped open in terror. BY YANG!!! WHAT WERE THE SERAPHIM DOING?!!

At the last moment, Uriel looked in the direction where had felt the curious energy. A resoundingly powerful single energy, on par with the Seraphim, had just arrived not far from where Uriel was reaching. This energy, powerful, focused, and very much in control, was unmistakable; Valkryie.

Uriel believed that he knew exactly why she was there. She’d have her hands full with ten Seraphim.

Uriel turned back to the fire and spoke rapidly. “Where I was Reaching…take me there!”

Uriel stepped into the swirling column and closed his eyes. He felt the flames close around him harmlessly, and then all was black.

Uriel opened his eyes not far from the rear of a small wooden cabin as the heat quickly receded from his body. The cabin was plain, but to the immediate right hung a vertical flag bearing the cross and lion insignia of the Seraphim. He had reached an outpost.

Offhand, Uriel could see no one, but he knew from Reaching that the post was very much occupied. He moved silently along the sand until he reached the rear of the cabin. He pressed his back against the cool wood and quietly crept along to its left side, where peering around the corner revealed a young man aimlessly rounding the corner and coming towards him–

Uriel quickly ducked back behind the wall. Again, he cursed. That was careless. He may have been lucky; the boy hadn’t increased his pace or called out for help. Uriel hadn’t been seen. He exhaled, relieved, as he heard the footsteps in the sand grow distant.

A figure landed directly in front of him, barely making a sound. Startled, Uriel instinctively reached for the figure, prepared to do whatever he had to in order to keep his presence a secret.

The figure he nearly attacked was dressed in the polished back armor of the Valkryie order, minus the headdress. As with all the Valkryies, she was strikingly beautiful, neck-length brown hair, sun-tanned skin and penetrating green eyes. She looked to Uriel and gave the slightest of smiles.

“Uriel.” She whispered, completely unconcerned. “It’s good to see you.”
Uriel extended his hand, and she grasped his wrist, greeting him formally. “Sira.” He said softly. “Odin must be serious if he sent you.”

“Indeed,” She said, taking a position on the wall beside him, “But I’m curious; why did he send me here instead of Purgatory, where the dead usually go first?”

“The Seraphim interrupted the cycle.” Uriel growled. “They must’ve gotten them before Gabriel knew that they had died. It’s probable that they don’t even know what’s going on.”

“Ah.” Sira replied. “Is that why you’re here? Or is it about your…recent troubles?”
“Little bit of both.”
Uriel looked back to her. “You worry about your dead. I’ll worry about the Seraphim.”

“Ever the maverick.” Sira chuckled. “There are seven of them, big boy, not ten. Fire doesn’t do as good a job of covering your Reach as you’d like it to. You might want to train that a bit more.”

Uriel shook his head but stayed silent. She would be insufferable if she weren’t right. That was probably why, after centuries of service in the Holy Sefiroth, Odin chose her for the Valkryie Order. Uriel had been sorry to see her go.

“We have two patrolling the grounds, five inside watching the dead. None of them know we’re here.” Sira explained quietly. “You take out the one on the left, I’ll take the one on the right, and we’ll meet at the door. I’ll lead in with a Blind attack, but you’ll have to disable them while I recover.”

Uriel nodded. “Alright.”

He was moving away, preparing to round the corner when Sira called out to him one more time. Uriel turned back to her.
“It really is good to see you again.”

Uriel nodded, but didn’t smile. He didn’t want to lose his mindset.

Peering around the corner yet again revealed that the Seraphim had chosen to take a break, whistling aimlessly and leaning against the wall, his back to Uriel. Uriel, hunched, silently approached the boy, who couldn’t have been more oblivious. Uriel reached up behind the boy’s left side and grabbed him by the face, wrapping his entire hand over the boy’s eyes and mouth. As the boy attempted a muffled scream, Uriel yanked him backwards, jerking his head to the side to reveal his neck and shoulder. Uriel delivered a swift chop to the area where the neck met the shoulder, and the boy immediately went limp beneath Uriel’s grip. Uriel gently lowered him to the ground. The boy would be sore when he woke up, but at least he would wake up.

As Uriel crept around the corner, he could hear voices from inside the open cabin. Some of the voices pleaded; what sounded like children, asking if they could ‘go home’. This seemed to annoy the Seraphim, who were trying to enjoy a game. They would be allowed to leave when ‘the work was done’.

Sira came around the corner opposite of the door and nodded to Uriel, who returned it. They had both done their jobs.

Inside the cabin, a girl cried. A Seraphim bellowed at her to be silent. There was a slapping sound.

An angry man seemed to turn into a bear, roaring presumably at the Seraphim. Four blows landed, then silence. The Seraphim promised no more pain if they were patient. The boy spoke as if he did not enjoy what he was going, but Uriel recognized the sadistic undertone in his voice. He enjoyed causing pain.

The rage in Sira’s emerald eyes mirrored Uriel’s own. They moved to stand on opposite sides of the door. Uriel, as quietly as he could, released a deep breath. There were five of the most powerful soldiers Heaven had ever produced inside, they were enjoying the power, and they wanted Uriel dead. This would not be easy by any means.

Suddenly Uriel snickered, remembering the many instances he had been here before. Chances were that either he or Sira would be dead within the next few minutes.

Uriel was through running. If he was going to die, he would die as a soldier.

“Ready?” Sira was locked onto him, speaking telepathically. Uriel nodded, smiling, shaking out his hands. “Yeah.”

He braced himself against the wall.

“After you.”

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