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The Beginning of the End is the first novel by Michael T. Snyder, the publisher of The Economic Collapse Blog. If you want to know what things in America are going to look like in a few years, you need to read this book. The Beginning of the End is a mystery/thriller set in the United States in the near future. It is a time of unprecedented economic collapse, deep political corruption, accelerating social decay, out of control rioting in the cities and great natural disasters. In the midst of all of this chaos, a former CIA agent, a respected financial reporter and a blogger that takes his prepping to extremes all find themselves dropped into the middle of an ancient conflict between two shadowy international organizations. The three of them are absolutely horrified to discover that one of those shadowy international organizations is planning to hit New York City with the largest terror attack in U.S. history.

TRANSCRIPT

Page 1: End of the beginning
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End of the

Beginning Fall of the Lightbringer

By Jon Snyder

© 2013 by Jon Snyder. All rights reserved. Copy, redistribution, or resale either in print or

electronically is strictly prohibited.

Page 3: End of the beginning

End of the Beginning, Fall of the Lightbringer

Second Edition

© 2013 by Jon Snyder. All rights reserved. Published by Jon Snyder and Theos

Publishing, P.O. Box 314 Edgemont, PA 19028.

This book is protected by the copyright laws of the United States of America. This copy is licensed for individual use to the intended recipient only. All rights reserved. Copy, redistribution, or resale either in print or electronically is

strictly prohibited. Cover and jacket art and design ©2013Matrix Design, Inc. www.matrixdesign.us. All

images created by Jon Snyder, used with permission or found in public domain

without usage restriction.

www.EndoftheBeginningBook.com

facebook/EndoftheBeginningBook

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available

upon request.

ISBN 10: 1484053850

ISBN 13: 9781484053850

Printed in the United States of America. March 2013

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Acknowledgments

I would like to also extend special thanks to everyone who helped make this

possible, who believed in me and entertained my fanciful musings over the years. I

love you all. To God, gentle, patient, kind and wonderful Savior, what do I have that

is not from You? To my loving and amazing wife, thanks for always believing in me.

Your love makes me reach higher. Thanks to all my editors, test readers,

supporters and people who have helped get this book to where it is now.

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Foreward

Angels are an intriguing topic. Nearly every culture and religion on the

planet includes the existence of these mystical beings of antiquity in their belief

systems and sacred writings. Consequently, there is a wealth of history and

opinion related to their roles, personalities, existence and origins. This book pulls

thought and history from a wide variety of sources in order to weave a tapestry

tale of the origins of their race - before they were angels. So this is not a book

about angels as we know them today… but a "prequel", if you will, to their world

and their plight. You will find no clouds, harps or wings - but a telling of the

original battle between good and evil as it has never been told.

Angels have always been a mystical topic slightly outside the

mainstream of religious thought. However it seemed appropriate, while making

the tale of their origins terrestrial, not to demystify these beings or dial down

their supernatural abilities - but rather to keep their abilities in line with what we

see written about the characters in various sources through history. As we muse

on their world, it births questions of our own that thrill the mind. Thus we find a

tale, rich in history and tradition but steeped in mystery that "gives wings" to

these mystical heroes and characters of lore.

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__________________________________________

Prologue:

The End of the Beginning

__________________________________________

The greatest epic saga KNOWN to man happened millennia before man

was known on this earth. Truly this was the end of an age… the end of a race.

But it would be a mistake to call this tale the beginning of the end. No. As it will

be remembered, this is the end of the beginning.

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__________________________________________

Chapter 1:

The Dark Rider

__________________________________________

As first light crested the Darkland coastal plains, a glance back over his

shoulder confirmed his fears: the dark rider was drawing alarmingly close now

and would soon overtake him.

Helel shook his head in bewildered frustration. "Impossible. He has

actually gained on us in the night."

His horse was of the finest pedigree, bred for endurance, strength and

speed. Nevertheless, this dark, mysterious pursuer had been slowly closing the

once long gap between them over this grueling, lonely ride across desolate,

frozen tundra.

Feeling more alone than ever before and with sickly dread rising in his

gut, the High Seraph snapped the reigns and they quickened their pace to a

gallop. The frigid, chafing winds assaulted his face and watering eyes and he

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8

ducked his head, trying to find some respite from the unforgiving elements. As

they rode, the deep crunch of the ice below Daystar's hooves indicated that at

times, this region may enjoy brief seasons of sun and green, but now

unfortunately, the plain was cold, harsh and unforgiving. These factors had

made it nearly impossible to make haste across the treacherous terrain

throughout the black of Darkland night. This land was nothing like the warm,

lush landscapes Helel was accustomed to navigating.

"This rider must be native to this region and well versed in traversing these icy plains.

But how could a Darklander possibly know anything of my plans? This journey was of the

utmost secrecy."

He searched his memories trying to pinpoint when and where the

breach may have occurred. He didn't like being in the dark about anything - a

vast net of sources kept him apprised of everything happening in his world. Yet

in this most clandestine of journeys into the heart of the Darklands where he

would be most alone and exposed, this mysterious rider felt emboldened to now

draw near and make his presence known.

Helel caught first glimpse of this dark figure on the horizon shortly after

he and his horse disembarked a large merchant airship that set them down on

the icy tip of a peninsula deep in the heart of the western Darklands. That was

nearly a full, grueling day's ride ago.

Now he was exhausted, both mentally and physically, as neither he nor

his horse had rested since first spotting this distant rider. Rather, they had

pressed on without sleep through this frigid, dark, and seemingly endless night.

This time of year, the Darklands never see full light of day, but only a sickly,

lingering twilight and impossibly long, dark, cold nights that play havoc on one's

mind.

Despite all his mental conditioning, Helel was no exception. Endless

questions about this pursuer and his intentions beset his weary mind so as to

drive him mad as the black night dragged on and on. Never had the first glimpse

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of dawn been such a welcome friend. As the first dim traces of light crested

across the horizon of this barren wasteland, Helel had hoped the day would

reveal that he had long since evaded this distant pursuer, leaving him safely

behind as nothing but a memory and frightful shadow. Now, however, the fears

Helel suppressed for hours flooded his mind, causing his heart to race just as he

did across this god-forsaken wilderness. Something of his pursuer, his intimate

knowledge of his affairs and the deliberate, relentless pursuit caused a dread to

rise in his heart that he had never felt in all of his long years.

"Calm yourself. Fear is not your master. You are the master of fear, the

Lightbringer. Who are you that you should be afraid?"

By all logical reasoning he was right. He was certainly a man who

commanded respect. More than that, he was admired and beloved world-over.

Adored. Certainly his position as supreme high Seraphim should intimidate any

man and make him untouchable. Indeed, could the civilized world even survive

without him? His kingdom was the center of the world... and he was the center

of the kingdom.

But Helel was not in civilized lands. He had heard stories of Darklanders.

They rejected the orderly, godly society that Helel had created in the Metalands.

"Curse this cold, this god-forsaken land and that rider. What can he

possibly want of me out here?" he panted in unison with his horse and laid his

weary head down on Daystar's warm neck, breathing short, nervous breaths into

the grey morning air.

"This Darklander is most likely not complicated. They are simply thieves and godless

outlaws, the lot of them. If it is possessions he wants, I have them in abundance and he can

have his fill… But if violent desires lay in the heart of this man…"

The thought of violence gave Helel pause. He had some fighting

experience but certainly was not a trained fighter. He possessed no rugged or

imposing demeanor that should intimidate a foe. He did, however exude a

princely stature that was uncommonly captivating and disarming. His skin was

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10

soft and fair. An almost white mane of long shimmering hair added an elegant

beauty to his handsome countenance and peak physical prowess. One would be

hard pressed to find any physical sign of aging in him despite the fact that he

was actually incredibly aged. The High Seraph had, in fact, seen the turn of

countless centuries. In all regards he was a prime specimen compared to most

any ordinary man… and Helel was no ordinary man. The most striking and

unique attribute to his appearance, was an array of gemstones centered in his

forehead, hands, chest, torso and abdomen. These strange gems, as he

contemplated the idea of having to fight against this unknown foe, began to

glow and pulsate as though alive with the rest of his body.

He tightened his grip on the reins and clenched his teeth, "If it is a fight

this man is looking for… then God help him. I am the one to be feared… not

some impotent Darklander."

He rode on briskly in the strength of this newfound confidence. But

after several minutes, another quick glance back across the plain revealed the

dark rider’s distance growing yet closer and all of his false confidence quickly

melted as he only wished his surroundings would; for what the Seraph truly

feared was nothing so simplistic as robbery or violence. It is easier to mend a

body than one's pride. Thus he pondered the one thing that he truly feared: the

shame that would surely come if his identity and mission here were discovered.

"The Lightbringer… on a secret journey to the Darklands? Scandalous! I cannot

be exposed."

In the dim morning light he quickly scanned his surroundings for any

glimmer of hope that this new dawn should reveal a means of escape or evasion.

The narrow ice plains were situated between steep, rugged cliffs to the east and

barren coastal regions to the west leaving no shelter to evade the sight of his

pursuer. In the distance ahead, he could make out a vast white forest. Any hopes

of outrunning him in the span between were dim at best. The rider was now less

than a mile behind them and continuing to gain. Helel knew that it was futile,

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but for lack of a better alternative, he again flicked the reins and they hastened

with as much speed as his weary steed could muster.

Daystar pressed on for a few agonizing minutes but soon began to slow.

Helel pulled his gloves off with his teeth, closed his eyes and placed his hands on

the sides of Daystar's head and the gems in his hands and forehead again began

to glow and pulsate. Adrenalin surged in both master and beast as though Helel's

own sense of urgency had been transmitted into the soul of his steed. But even

this new surge only lasted for a few minutes. Daystar, despite his pedigree, was

panting and growing irregular now in his gate, showing the natural signs of

fatigue from the sustained, hastened pace. They would not be able to continue

on like this for much longer.

As they drew closer to the dense forest, Helel could make out immense

white trees seemingly stripped of bark. The great trees loomed ominously as a

heavy blanket of cool mist shrouded much of their almost sickly and twisted

form in the dim light of the Darkland’s early dawn. It was clear that any ability to

make haste would be lost once in the tangle of forest, but perhaps it was for the

best.

"It is only a matter of time before Daystar is unable to continue," thought Helel.

"Evasion in the forest is our only option now. I pray we fare better there and escape whatever

dark designs may be in the heart of this man who would follow me for days to the ends of the

earth… far past any place that any of God’s good creatures would dare to venture."

Soon the vast ice plain lay behind them and the monstrous silhouettes of

the White Forest loomed larger than life immediately ahead. One last time, Helel

pushed Daystar to a full gallop in hopes to gain but a little more distance

between them and the dark rider as they made the last several hundred yards to

the forest. Perhaps with a little extra push, the cover of the woods may give

them a means by which to evade their pursuer.

Sweat glistened on Daystar’s brilliant white coat and the sound of his

heavy breathing resonated through the palpable silence of the frigid morning air.

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The thickening curtain of mist that adorned these woods now shrouded their

view of the dark rider, but through the mist Helel swore he could make out a

shadow even closer than at the last glance.

They ripped through the brush at the edge of the woods and began to

weave a scattered path through the maze of giant trunks, roots, limbs and

branches. This forest was unlike any that Helel had navigated in more familiar,

cultivated regions. The trunks of the trees were immense, many were ten feet or

more in diameter, with exposed roots protruding two and three feet from the

ground as though themselves searching for light and trying to escape the cold

frozen grave of earth in this dark region. The terrain made navigating this forest

more treacherous than Helel had anticipated and any regular path finding was a

frustrating impossibility.

Helel continued to push Daystar at a frantic pace, though he was now

completely fatigued and struggled to maintain sure footing over rocks and roots

as they wound a serpentine path under and over endless obstacles. Leafless,

lifeless branches snapped as they raced past and tore at Helel’s fine raiment and

fur occasioned to weather these harsh elements of the Darkland winter. From

beneath his clothes, the lashing branches brought forth trickles of red blood

from torn flesh to adorn the path they traveled with perhaps the only splashes of

color this cursed land would enjoy this time of year.

Nevertheless, they forged ahead with as much haste as their

surroundings would allow until, without warning, Daystar's wearied legs lost

footing and stumbled over a cluster of large exposed roots that tangled across

their path between the trees. His muscular, shaky front legs were unable to

compensate and at last gave way, sending both horse and rider careening

headlong into the cold, unforgiving earth where together they collapsed in utter

exhaustion.

Helel clawed his way up the monstrous roots to get back to his feet. The

sound of his heavy breathing and thudding heart was nearly deafening, as,

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standing in a slump against a great white tree, with blood, sweat and earth

dripping from his brow, his attention soon turned to another sound: that of

hooves in the distance.

"God help me…he's close… only a few hundred meters away. How is

this possible?"

He didn't wait for an answer. All Helel could think to do was run.

Exhausted and with a sense of impending dread, he ran wildly, desperately - as

the dark rider cut his way through the maddening maze and mist with

frightening precision. He ran with everything in him, exerting every remaining

ounce of his strength. He twisted and snaked his way through narrow passes and

tight turns in the dense woods in hope of finding a path where no horse could

go or perhaps of finding a place of hiding and escape.

He stumbled on weary, rubber legs through the cursed forest and burst

into a small clearing and leaned against a tree to catch his breath. The

rider was nearly upon him now and he could hear the black, fearsome horse

snorting through the mist behind him.

"It is no use!" He lamented. "I can't outrun him. His pace is… supernatural.

The best horse in the known world couldn't outrun him… and I don't even have the strength

left to stand. This is as good a place as any to face him."

Helel's countenance hardened at the realization and he clenched his

teeth and set his face like flint.

"Come. Do your worst."

Beyond physical exhaustion, he staggered into the midst of the clearing

and collapsed to take the next few moments to collect himself. With lungs

heaving, he knew he would have to draw on a greater power than the limits his

physical body possessed. He began to channel metaphysical energy, a talent that

none in the known world, frankly, could do more potently. If it was a fight this

dark rider was looking for, he would learn quickly why Helel was the highest

member of the highest order of Seraphs.

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14

The very air around him suddenly became alive - electric and crackling

with power as Helel practiced his craft. His very body emitted a faint radiance in

the murky grey mist of awakening dawn. The gems embedded in his body’s

energy centers glowed and resonated with harmonious vibration and Helel

began to feel a quickening of energy invigorating in his weary, mortal flesh. An

audible, melodic hum came from within the Lightbringer's body and saturated

the air, defeating the heavy silence of the lifeless woods. Even the great, white

trees themselves seemed to bow and turn in his majestic presence.

Moments later, the cloaked rider emerged imposingly from the thick of

the wood. His horse was perhaps the largest Helel had ever seen - nineteen or

twenty hands high and angrily snorting heavy clouds of hot breath into the cool

morning air. The mounted rider towered menacingly over Helel as he knelt in

the center of the small clearing. The black horse circled slowly around Helel as if

to stir the agony and uncertainty in his mind.

Helel tried to remain calm and continued his meditations. His mind and

perceptions continued to focus and sharpen as energy from the unseen realm

streamed into his body. The rider was no more than mere feet away from him

now and with his heightened senses, Helel tried to read his emotions.

"I sense nothing from this man. How is this possible?"

The rider donned a dark cloak that shrouded his face and most of his

body. Beneath the cloak, a high collared tunic covered most of his face leaving

only a small slit to make out eyes that glared with an eerie yellow glow, never

breaking their gaze. There was very little of the rider that could be seen. His

hands were covered by armored gauntlets - but one thing stood out as Helel

studied his opponent: the back of each gauntlet revealed gemstones on the

hands set in ornate silver casings unlike anything Helel had seen before. Each

stone appeared to be the same type of gemstone that he himself brandished on

his own hands.

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Beyond the mysterious apparel, it was as though the rider moved in

perpetual shadow, a living darkness that made his likeness impossible to see. But

even more disturbing to Helel was the fact that his powers of perception could

not pierce the blackness that surrounded the rider to ascertain the mood or

intent of his dark soul and emotions. Empathy was a skill that came as second

nature to the Lightbringer, but now, only feet away from his foe, he was no

more certain of this dark figure’s identity or intentions than he had been for the

last twenty-four hours.

Helel could take the silence and uncertainty no longer. He didn't want to

show weakness but didn't even realize he was still catching his breath until the

breathless words came out, "You know who I Am?"

The rider chuckled menacingly, "Do I know you?" He shook his head

and forced a mocking laugh again as his hands angrily clenched and twisted the

reigns of his monstrous horse. The black leather creaked and groaned in his firm

grasp and Helel noticed the gems in his hands beginning to glow. As they did,

black tendrils of smoke began to seep from the rider's hands. Suddenly, the

noxious aroma of burning flesh filled the air.

"God help me. WHAT is this man? He is burning from the inside-out." The

stench of searing flesh nearly made Helel sick to his stomach and he could not

mask his appalled shock or sick aversion.

"Good, Lightbringer. I can sense your fear. But you do not fear me

enough yet. If you truly knew who I am, you would be much more afraid."

Helel knelt, feeling naked and exposed before this adversary grasping

desperately to get some read on the situation. This being was indeed powerful -

not some powerless Darklander as he had anticipated - and was intentionally

exerting a power that counteracted Helel's own growing energy field.

“Quit at this game. You are obviously no impotent Darklander, so what

do you want of me?”

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“What do I want? What do you want… Lightbringer?” The Dark rider

practically spat the name with contempt. “What does the prince of light in a lone

journey to the Darklands truly want? Who do you think you are fooling? Do you

believe your quest to be righteous? Do even you in all your “wisdom” know why

you are really here?"

Helel was indignant. "You know I am the Lightbringer and presume to

speak to me this way? If you truly knew who I am, you would show me both

reverence and fear. You only think you know me."

"Fool! I know everything about you. I have been overtaking you and

infiltrating your kingdom far longer than this pathetic ride. I know you better

than you know yourself... better than you can possibly imagine. You think you

have power, but your power is limited to your own self-imposed laws. You are

weak."

Helel bristled with rage. “Enough! You know nothing of my power!"

He sprang forth with supernatural might. Flying through the thick

morning air, he collided with the lofty rider and knocked him from his horse.

The two men crashed to the ground and for a brief moment the rider was

winded. Helel unleashed his rage with an endless barrage of blows.

The rider lay lifeless on the unforgiving earth and Helel hesitantly drew

back a shaking fist to strike again.

"I should kill you where you lay!"

Unexpectedly, the rider began to laugh mockingly - a reaction Helel had

not expected. "Yes Lightbringer. Hurt me. Kill me. But you can't, can you? That

would make you like me."

Helel's fist unclenched. His adrenaline and fear told him that beating this

man to death would solve his problem, but his moral code prohibited him from

going further. This was the only opening the dark rider needed. He exploded out

from under the Lightbringer, smashed Helel to the ground and rained down a

series of his own blows. The two men grappled for minutes on the cold, frozen

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earth, trading blow upon blow in a gruesome, bloody death match. Blood

poured from Helel's mouth, nose and a gash above his eye, transforming the

beautiful Lightbringer into a feral warrior. His knuckles also ached and bled

from the ongoing onslaught of his own blows. Yet the two continued

relentlessly in a back-and-forth chess match of powerful strikes that shattered

earth, rock and trees. It was clear that both men possessed heightened abilities

and immense power, but the extent of either’s power was not yet fully realized.

Helel scrambled, trying in vain to draw energy from his foe, matching

and countering his every move. Neither man seemed to have an upper hand or

superior fighting ability. The dark rider rolled on top of Helel, smashing his head

against a tangle of roots, dazing him just long enough to try a different tactic.

The rider reached into the sleeve of his cloak and the stunned Seraph came to

his senses just in time to catch a flashing glint from a metal object drawn forth.

Suddenly, the long blade cut through the morning air as it sought a more

substantial target in Helel. The rider plunged the jeweled dagger with all his

might downward through Helel’s forehead, sinking it through his skull until it

lodged with a dull “thunk” in the solid wood behind him. The dark rider's eyes

narrowed, showing hints of a smile of satisfaction from beneath his shroud. It

was a clean cut, piercing completely through Helel’s head front-to-back. The

rider sat up almost bewildered that the fight was now over and gazed down at

the ruler of the known world pierced so easily with his blade.

Ironically, Helel also marveled as he lay staring at the blade between his

eyes. He possessed another unique supernatural ability - as he would channel

energy and resonate his body at different frequencies, this transcendent ability

enabled him to phase his molecules to a higher energy state. In this state, he

could pass through walls and solid matter, even walk on water… never did he

envision that this talent would narrowly save his life as it just had.

Helel arose slowly with a smug grin, passing through the rider as the

bewildered foe wrenched the blade from its lodging in the base of the tree. More

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enraged than ever, the rider swung furiously at Helel with wide, wild, sweeping

slashes. With each swing of his blade, the weapon simply glided through Helel’s

body. He smiled triumphantly. It would be impossible for this assassin to pierce

him or do him bodily harm in this state.

Helel laughed, "This fight is over. Go your way and be gone from me."

The dark figure burned with rage. “I will not be mocked by the likes of

you. You think you have won with your little trick? I will show you power that

you can only imagine!"

The dark rider dropped his dagger and ripped the sleeves from his cloak,

baring his arms. The rider began to walk toward Helel, channeling energy that

screeched audibly and grew louder with each step until a cacophony of hellish

noise seemed to drown out Helel’s ability to think and channel his own energy.

Helel answered back with a blast of pure energy, trying to counteract the

assault of dark power and bring the rider’s frequency into harmony with his own.

The dark rider, however, seemed unaffected. The rider grasped the ornate,

circular silver casing around one of his hand's gemstones and twisted.

Inexplicably, this action seemed to increase his power and the energy he was

projecting tenfold. The noxious smoke now poured from the rider's flesh with

greater intensity.

The dark energy staggered the Lightbringer and he dropped to a knee

straining to block out the painful assault on his body, mind and soul. "How can

this be? How can there be a being that possesses greater power than I?"

It seemed as though every cell in his body screamed and threatened to

split apart if the cruel barrage did not cease. He dropped to all fours in agony, no

longer able to fight. The dark rider confidently walked forward and stood

victoriously over his opponent. He reached down and grabbed Helel's forearms

and wrenched his arms wide apart, yanking him up violently so that he could

look him in the eye and savor his agony and fear.

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“Who are you?” cried Helel. “Why… why do you want to kill me?” He

twisted uncomfortably in the clutches of the shrouded figure and tried to free

his arms from the vice-like grasp. He succeeded only in grasping a small,

dangling shred of the cloak, ripping it off in his hand.

"Who am I?" The dark figure sneered at the question. "I have many

names. If you are the prince of light… then I can only be the Prince of Darkness.

NOW LOOK AT ME!" The rider ripped the remaining cloak away from the

rest of his body to reveal a burned and scarred form beneath. “What do you

think of me now?”

All the fear that Helel had felt up to that moment was nothing

compared to what he felt now as he gazed upon the true form and gruesome

visage of his foe.

Panicked, sweating, heart throbbing so as to burst from his chest, Helel

burst awake, grasping at the rich scarlet sheets of his royal sleep chamber.

"A dream?" He thought. "Impossible… it was all too real!" Drenched in

sweat, swimming in his own confusion, Helel tried to process what he had seen

and experienced.

He may have convinced himself that it was only a dream until he looked

down at his fist, still clenched from anxiety. He felt something in his grasp and

was remiss to look at it for fear of confirming what he now dreaded. Slowly he

opened his hand and looked at the object resting on his palm. He still clutched a

small shred of torn black garment from the rider's cloak and quickly dropped it

amidst the soft, flowing sheets. Helel looked at it in horror.

"The Dark Lord is real."

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__________________________________________

Chapter 2:

Stargazer

__________________________________________

“Draco awakes!”

The words came hissing into his conscious thought and Gabrius jerked

his head up abruptly from the moonlit, grassy hillside, wondering for a moment

where he was. He had nodded off as he spent another night sleeplessly

stargazing, peering into the night sky and charting the familiar movement of

stars and constellations as he had for so many years.

"What was that?"

The stargazer thudded his head back onto the hillside and groaned a

weary, guttural sigh into the cool, crisp mountain air.

"Draco… Will I never be free from you? I've been tracking you for so

long that now I'm hearing your name in my sleep."

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Gabrius squinted into the night sky in an attempt to make out any

discernible change in the Draco constellation. He rubbed his eyes to brush the

sleep out of them and bring the distant astral bodies into focus. Gazing into the

heavens, he shook his head slightly in disbelief but couldn't help but feel some

excitement as he faintly perceived what he had dubbed, "The missing star."

"Don't get ahead of yourself. You've been down that road more than a

hundred times… more than a thousand times."

He slowly rolled his head to the side and gazed up languidly at a

towering, modern looking observatory that rose obtrusively from an otherwise

humble, rustic home atop the hill.

"God, why can I just not let this go?" he sighed in frustration. "I'd love

to spend one night without obsessing over theories that I'm never going to

prove."

The weary astronomer scrunched his eyes shut and tried to switch off

his overactive mind and imagination in hopes that he could simply drift

peacefully back to sleep. As was always the case, his mind, heart and curiosity

won the battle over his weary flesh and he gave one last irritated glare at the

beckoning observatory tower before finally giving in.

"Alright. OK. I'm up."

Gabrius sat up on the hillside and propped his face in his hands, deeply

breathing in the mountain air, trying to wake up. The hillside and valley below

was lined with tidy rows of well kept crops and vineyards and his hands now

showed more the wear of farm work than of scientific astronomical observation.

He ran his weathered, muscular hands through a full thatch of dark hair that was

starting to turn salt-and-pepper with hints of grey. It was unusual in this culture

for anyone to show signs of aging and one would think that the focus of his

meditations should be to rejuvenate his body and turn back the clock. But

Gabrius wasn't taken by vanities and he rather fancied his few streaks of silver.

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He felt they made him look more scholarly… even though it had been a very

long time since he had truly felt like much of an academic.

"Gabrius, what will it even prove at this point if you find what you're looking for up

there? Nobody is even listening any longer."

Nevertheless, he finally picked himself up off the comfortable hillside

and began a reluctant walk up the hill. The unexpected chill of the early spring

night had settled on him and he briskly rubbed his hands over his arms to shrug

off the cold as he trudged up the rustic stone stairs that wound around the large,

elegant observatory.

Inside, the light from a warm, inviting fire bounced off the walls of a

short hallway to the right. Gabrius looked longingly down the cozy corridor

before reluctantly closing the door to that part of his home.

"Not tonight," he sighed and flicked on a light that illuminated a large

round observatory lab to the left. He had spent many nights in that observatory

rather than in his bed… it looked like tonight he would once again peer into the

night sky hoping to prove his controversial theories.

The large, round office housed countless book shelves littered with years

of writing and research. They stretched around the full expanse of the room and

disappeared from view behind the focal point of the office, a large telescopic

chamber at the center of the room. An array of smaller telescopes of variant

sizes cluttered a few of the shelves and spilled out in an unkempt pile on the

floor at the far side of the room. Every available inch of wall space was covered

with charts and illustrations that Gabrius had drawn over countless decades of

research. The only pieces of furniture were an old desk, chair and a threadbare

prayer mat that Gabrius used often as he meditated on his theories.

Gabrius wearily plopped down at his desk and looked at a beautiful

commemorative clock that hung amidst a wall of other dusty trophies, medals

and placards. At one time, he had been considered the foremost astronomer in

the world. His astronomical research had made profound discoveries universally

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embraced world-over. Most notably, the study of the planets, the earth, the

moon and the sun had revealed so many observations that now were all but

taken for granted: the hours of the day, days of the week, weeks of the month,

months of the year, the cycles of the heavens, seasons of the earth. In a more

primitive time in their culture where such concepts were unknown, his research

was foundational and groundbreaking. With each new discovery, the scientific

community hung on his every word and honored him with countless accolades.

The inscription on the clock read, "In honor of the founder of Gabriusian

Time."

Gabrius, however, had long since grown familiar with these inscriptions

and accolades of achievements from a lifetime ago. They, like the clock, had

long since lost their luster and all he noticed tonight was the time: 02:14.

He propped his elbows on the desk and again rubbed his face to shake

off the last remnants of fatigue. "Time to get to work."

He picked up a curious silver band that lay on his desk and placed it

upon his head like a crown. The band immediately began to glow, activating a

part of his mind that enabled telepathic activity. "The Stream", as they called it,

was a vast collective of telepathically "uploaded" information to a universally

accessible central source. By simply focusing on a given topic, one could not

only communicate directly with other like-minded individuals anywhere on the

globe who were also connected to the Stream, but instantly access the collected

media and information deposited within the Stream. This data was more than

simple information. People could even access the entire visual, tactile and

emotional experience of the person who uploaded the memory or data. The

Stream, as did virtually all meta-technology breakthroughs, became an instant

cultural revolution, especially with the people of Chokhmah who particularly

prided themselves on wisdom and knowledge.

Gabrius had to admit that he was highly fond of the technology. As a

scientist, the access to a collective of thought and the ability to contribute to it

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was highly appealing. But more so, his prior schooling and attempts at

developing supernatural, metaphysical abilities had not really taken shape. This

little, commonplace piece of equipment gave a small glimpse into what it must

be like to wield great metaphysical, telepathic power.

He already had a wealth of information… and disappointments

uploaded to the Stream regarding his phantom constellation, but something in

his heart told him that tonight would be different. He pondered what to say for

a moment before again reintroducing his thesis:

Since the creation of earth, light from distant stars has been travelling hundreds,

thousands and millions of light years in its yearning to beautifully adorn our night

starscape. How different our night sky must have looked in the dawn of creation

before it was so widely speckled with these heavenly bodies so differing in glory from

one to another.

Many of you familiar with my work know that for… quite a while, I've

predicted that these stars are more than beautiful lights in the heavens simply

purposed to divide the day from the night. Rather they are divinely ordered.

Messengers from God, proving his existence and divine order, useful for signs and

seasons, prophesiers of great events and the mysteries of the ages… and who knows,

maybe they even tell each of our stories as well.

To those who don't embrace the notion, you all are probably aware that many

years ago, I made a prediction about a constellation BEFORE it formed in order

to prove divine order. Tonight we will again test that theory and observe the

coordinates for my missing star that will complete what I call Draco, The Dragon,

a deacon constellation within The Bowman. You can research my predictions and

math as well as what I believe the divine message of Draco is to the world. If tonight,

we indeed find this missing star, we shall all find our world a little bigger; and this

discovery should give credence to these controversial theories...

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Gabrius ripped the band off his head, severing the connection with the

Stream and sank his face into his hands, shaking his head in frustration with his

own zeal.

"You are getting ahead of yourself yet again. And if you are wrong… yet

again… you'll look overconfident and foolish for even saying that."

His heart, however, convicted him that despite all of his setbacks and

years of disappointments, he was still on the right path and on the brink of

something so much larger than himself.

He looked at a faded picture that sat on his desk of a beautiful young

woman. "Oh Adie… thanks for always believing in your crazy husband. You

were the one good thing that came out of our years at the Crystal Academy.

Let's see if we can't finally show the world tonight that I'm not totally crazy."

It had indeed been a long time since Gabrius began chasing this missing

star to prove his theories. More than two centuries, in fact. And the years

weighed on him now, despite an undaunted, interminable, childlike hunger for

knowledge and discovery that, at this point, frustrated the simple astronomer

more than anything.

At first, in the wake of his early achievements, Gabrius could do no

wrong in the eyes of the scientific community and he easily packed out lecture

halls promoting new theories of star groupings and their messages as new

science. But the constellations, if they had any answers at all, raised far more

questions than they answered; and his theory, no matter how interesting, was

met with little more than sideways curiosity and no small amount of skepticism.

Their society valued the individual expression of a person's gifting as it

was supposed to be "the expression of God" through that person to benefit all

mankind. But none of this later research helped bring order to society or perfect

their race’s mastery over the elements of earth, physics and metaphysics. If there

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was a currency in their culture, it was a person's ability to contribute

meaningfully to society.

The mystics of their day highly valued prophecy. But Gabrius' stellar

predictions, while he personally believed them to be divinely guided, were little

more than obscure and esoteric snippets and stories: Virgo, the virgin giving

birth, a lion chasing a fleeing serpent, unbalanced scales and a Redeemer to

balance them, Draco, the deceiving dragon - none of these themes meant

anything to the masses, to the respected sages or mystics of their age… or even

to Gabrius, himself, for that matter. He wondered if these messages, if they were

more than just fanciful musings, were even meant for their age at all.

With the appearance of each new star and supposed constellation,

Gabrius hoped to find the answers he needed, piece the puzzle together and

bring order to his theories - not necessarily even to prove something to the

world, but to his own inability to let go. He couldn't help but believe, in spite of

all the years and evidence to the contrary that these bodies really were

messengers and that their messages were somehow significant to his life's

purpose and calling. But each new constellation only added more mystery.

So the years and starry nights passed with no way for him to silence the

voice that spoke to him through these messengers; and with no way to prove

that they were more than meaningless dots in the sky. Little by little, Gabrius

lost his fans and following. Some old friends still paid their respects as a credit to

his former brilliance and contributions to society. But for the most part, nobody

even gave him the courtesy of addressing him as an astronomer now. He was

just a stargazer.

Gabrius arose and walked over to the central fixture in the large round

observatory, the telescopic chamber. A brush of his hand across a panel by the

door caused the monstrous machine to roar to life and an illuminated screen

display of coordinates popped up on the panel. From here he could recalibrate

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and reposition the great telescope to the desired position for an optimal view of

the desired heavenly bodies.

He smirked at the all too familiar coordinates. It was no surprise that it

needed no rotation or calibration to give a perfect view of Draco. He opened the

door to the confined interior space within: black, painted walls and a tight

circular staircase leading up to the observation chamber.

He stepped inside and caressed the doorframe as one would a loved one.

"Don't let me down tonight."

As Gabrius pulled the door securely closed behind him, he was plunged

into total blackness. The lack of any ambient light helped give an unhindered

view of the astral bodies. He had climbed those black stairs so many times, he

needed no sight to do it. Gabrius quickly clanged up the metal stairs to the

observation chamber which was already beautifully illuminated with a majestic,

magnified view of the heavens.

As he eased into the comfy reclining chair in the observation chamber,

he couldn't help but laugh at the boyish excitement he still felt every time he

used this great contraption that he had built from scratch with a few of his

colleagues. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm the nerves, "Here

we go again."

As he gazed into his magnified view of the night sky, his heart rose in

his chest. Twinkling in the heavens was one final star forming the tail of the

great dragon. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. It was there and it was

unmistakable.

He checked the coordinates and the math. "It's right on!" He checked it

again in disbelief. "You beautiful, late blooming, little angel!"

The final star of Draco had appeared just as he had calculated. His

bottom lip quivered a bit and he fought back the tears of two hundred years of

disappointments that now blurred his majestic view of the stars.

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For hours he couldn't take his eyes off of it for fear than when he

looked back it would vanish. But there it stood twinkling before him as a

resolute reminder that his heart hadn't been lying to him all these years about

messages in the stars. Not only was he right about all of this, he had never felt so

close to his destiny and to God as he did in this moment.

Another thought that previously hadn't been an issue crept into his

consciousness, "What now?"

His mind swam over the sea of implications. It was unlikely that he

would pack any lecture halls with his findings as he had in the old days. But even

if he could go back to a life in the scientific spotlight he wasn't sure he would.

His own self-illusions that he was a great mind or leading scientist were long

gone. He knew there was nothing special about himself. He loved God, loved a

simple life - but still could hardly contain the excitement he felt now.

"OK, one step at a time. You know this will change everything, but for

now, humble beginnings. Evidence. Documentation. Capture some pictures.

Upload them to the Stream. Maybe actually think about sleeping more than two

hours tonight. That's a good start."

He was about to start documenting his findings when he suddenly heard

banging on the outer door of his observatory. "Is there actually someone at my door?

Who in their right mind would be here at this time of night?"

He ignored the sound and quickly began capturing images. Suddenly he

heard banging again which paused for a moment and then resumed even more

loudly.

"Hello?" he called. "Is someone out there? If you can hear me, I can't

get to the door right now."

"Of all the times…" he thought to himself as he listened anxiously for a

response or to hear if the knocking would cease.

He heard nothing and after a minute, Gabrius breathed a sigh of relief.

However, within his office below, the knob of the door began to tremble and

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shake. Untouched, the interior lock slowly began to slide open, seemingly of its

own accord and the door quietly cracked open as a lone intruder stealthily let

himself into the lab.

Gabrius was already back to work when, without warning, a sharp rap

came on the interior door that led up to the observation chamber.

The knock startled Gabrius out of his seat. "I know that door was

locked. How did…?"

Gabrius jumped up and clanged down the loud, metal stairs as the door

below flew open. Light flooded the black chamber and he stumbled down the

last few steps, blinded and squinting through the uninvited, assailing light. He

slowly rose and held up a hand to block the light. His eyes ached at the sudden

adjustment and he strained to make out the silhouette standing before him.

“I'm an emissary from the capital. You are being summoned to Berul

and must come with me immediately!”

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(Draco, the Dragon whose tail divides the stars of heaven)

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__________________________________________

Chapter 3:

The Lightbringer

__________________________________________

Helel hadn't been able to sleep after his frightful encounter. His mind

still raced with visions of the night before, replaying the image of the Dark

Prince over and over. He paced through the gardens of his expansive, lushly

landscaped rooftop balcony long before dawn, brooding over the meaning of it

all. Each passing moment brought him closer to daybreak when he would have

to perform his weekly duty to the world as the Lightbringer.

Glints of light on the horizon told him it was almost time. The thought

was actually a relief. It would not only occupy his mind but perhaps in his

meditations he would find answers.

The Lightbringer donned his long priestly robe and strode to the

portion of his balcony where every week he would make his customary opening

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benediction that inaugurated the Sephiroth, the Scherubimi race's most sacred of

rites.

Below his balcony, Eden bathed in a waxing glow of golden morning

light. The early spring flowers were in bloom throughout the gardens and the air

was sweet with fragrance. He breathed their aromas deeply and cleared his mind.

"Aah, Eden, you never fail to inspire."

The tiered gardens of Eden were indeed the most breathtaking spectacle

on earth and stretched for countless miles around the great tower that served

both as Helel's palatial residence as well as the greatest religious shrine in the

world. The entire mountainside over time had been excavated, cut back and

leveled off to create a vast, sprawling expanse of tiered and stepped landscape

gardens which showcased every variety of natural beauty imaginable. Some tiers

were small, others more than a mile in length and breadth. Each tier, however,

was purposefully crafted to accentuate the beauty and diversity of each distinct

type of living beauty on display in that section of the garden.

Architectural adornments, fountains, pools, walking paths and gazebos

were situated as points of interest throughout many of the gardens for rest,

reflection and meditation while accentuating the beauty of the great greenscapes.

The Mountain of Beryl was aptly named for its many deposits of various colors

of crystal and beryls which provided natural monuments of beautiful gemstone.

These stones sparkled colorfully in the morning sun and gave a surreal beauty to

areas of the garden throughout the day as they would capture sunlight and

colorfully filter its light.

In many places, the most gifted artisans had been selected to sculpt large

sections of crystal and rock into elaborate statues of animals and plants. The

tiered walls had many staircases which allowed people to walk from level to level

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and contained great and beautiful mosaics, frescoes, stone work, metal work and

painted art of all sorts, each taking decades of artistic input to perfect.

Eden's waterways, large ponds and waterfalls, all fed by refreshing

mountain springs, had also been carved into the mountainside to provide

romantic gondola excursions for the many couples who vacationed in the

gardens throughout the year as well as to give room for every variety of floating

flower and beautiful aquatic plant life.

While the gardens drew many vacationers and visitors because of their

beauty, far more travelers sojourned to the holy mountain for religious reasons.

They came to Eden from each of the twelve great kingdoms to meditate and

worship because it was said that the veil between Heaven and earth was most

thin here while the Lightbringer inducted the Sephiroth.

Already this morning, pilgrims were starting to gather at the base of

Babel-One, the great obelisk-shrine that towered above the center of the garden.

This immense tower was far more than a simple temple or religious symbol. It

was the crowning achievement of Helel's kingdom. Architecturally it represented

the greatest building that man had ever erected. The lower floors below Helel's

residence contained many small individual rooms and dwellings reserved for

travelers, sojourners and pilgrims who wished to stay at this holy site for spiritual

pursuits. Each dwelling had a small porch or balcony connected about the base

of the tower by a colonnade of pillars.

At the heart of the tower, grand stables provided lodging for travelers'

horses. Air travel was generally prohibited in the airspace above the upper

gardens, but one floor of the great tower served as a hangar for Helel's own

private airships. Above the residences and stables, a vast cathedral used for

worship spanned the full girth of the great edifice; and above that was Helel's

private residence which covered another entire floor of the structure. The

impressive living quarters were surrounded on all sides by expansive windows

and arches leading to a 360 degree garden that overlooked the greater Edenic

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gardens below. Above Helel's residence, the tower narrowed and rose to the

heavens. With the exception of large porthole windows located on all six sides of

the hexagonal obelisk, the remainder of the structure was purely functional -

comprised of a vast elevator shaft, winding stairs and smooth, glistening silver

walls that housed the immense scaffolding which served to provide the structure

required for this towering feat of architecture.

Babel-One stood aloft as the crowning jewel of mankind's achievement,

the tallest structure ever built, roughly a mile in height, shining with the

brilliance of the sun and visible as a beacon of truth for countless miles around.

Its height was further accentuated by its location at the pinnacle of the Mount of

Beryl, which had come to be called "the mountain of God" because of its

significance in the holy ritual of the Sephiroth.

Far more than its architectural marvels, it was this latter purpose that

truly represented the greatest advancement for mankind. Babel-One was the

largest of thirteen great, hexagonal obelisks erected to augment and transmit

meta energy across the globe powerfully enough to unite the world around this

important ceremony; and it was for this purpose that Helel would shortly ascend

to the pinnacle of the tower where he would perform his service to the world.

The crowds outside of Babel-One had grown and Helel graciously

waved to his adoring public in the final moments before initiating the Sephiroth.

For the first time all morning he smiled genuinely as the sight of the crowds

lifted his spirits.

Finally the moment they had all been waiting for arrived. The sun

crested the horizon in the East and its light beamed through large prisms in the

courtyard below. The crowd burst into applause as they bathed in rainbows of

morning light and anticipated an even more glorious illumination. Helel strode

to the edge of the platform and held his hands up for silence. The gems in his

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hands and head glowed and as was the usual response, the crowd grew louder

for a moment before finally settling down.

At times Helel liked to give a longer benediction, but today he had only

the thought of moving on from the night before in his mind and he pronounced

a simple prayer that he had prayed a thousand times, "May the light of Akatriel

come to you and shine through you on this day of our holy Sephiroth! Let there

be light!"

The sound of cheers filled his ears and he sauntered proudly back into

his home. At the very middle of the central room in his residence, a curious

circular arrangement of three scarlet couches sat surrounded by a circular white

staircase that rose into the ceiling. Helel walked into the midst of the three

couches that framed the circle but didn't sit. He looked up at his vaulted ceiling

as suddenly six panels circled back to create an opening. Immediately the seating

area began to rise through the opening in the ceiling and gain speed upwards

into the long shaft of the tower.

This comfortable, private lift not only gave him access to his entry at the

base of the tower, his private stables and airship hangar, but it also rose the full

height of the tower, to its very pinnacle, the Sanctum of Stones, a crystal

chamber where the true magic of the tower took place. The long shaft of the

tower was lined with an endlessly winding staircase that led to the top as well,

but given the height of the tower, it would take far too long to climb. As it was,

the comfortable elevator would take nearly the next ten minutes to make its

staggering climb to the pinnacle of Babel-One.

The six outer walls of the hexagonal tower had large windows that

overlooked the vast expanse of land and sea below. Each window had an ornate,

diverse etching of the Flower of Life, a symbol of sacred geometry that carried

great meaning in their culture and served as a reminder of divine order, the

mathematical precision of the universe and the confluence of the sacred divine

with the soul of man. Most days he simply gazed out the windows without

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noticing the etchings, but today they drew his attention and reminded him of

what he stood for.

(Sacred Geometry: Flower of Life and the Kabalistic Sephiroth's "Tree of Life")

He straightened his posture and smoothed his soft robes. "Every

revelation has a purpose. It is in my power to stop this darkness that I have

seen."

Though mentally and even somewhat physically tired from the

restlessness of the night before - and despite the burden of his duty, a somewhat

arduous twenty-four hours of meditative work that lay ahead of him - this

troubled night had given him a renewed sense of purpose. For the first time in

quite a long time, he yearned for the Sephiroth's illumination to bring this

darkness to light and vanquish it from troubling him ever again.

The comfortable lift reached its final destination, a large marble landing

where the stairs below and his elevator both met a final, winding, marble set of

stairs that led to the Sanctum, the uppermost destination and highest purpose of

Babel-One. Helel climbed the stairs with newfound determination and peeled

off his robe just outside the great chamber, exposing the radiant stones in his

body.

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The mosaic floor of the crystal chamber gleamed, awash in color, as

light from the morning sun bathed twelve smaller, colorful crystalline obelisks,

purposefully arranged in a sacred order around two concentric circles on the

floor. Within the outer circle, two inverted equilateral triangles set in mosaic

crystals on the floor formed a six-sided star and one twelve foot obelisk stood at

each of the points. The inner circle of crystals stood roughly eight feet in height.

Each was positioned with mathematical precisions to complete a formation

known as Metatron's Cube and forming a straight line between the focal point of

the circle where Helel would stand and the larger crystals that marked the energy

outlets in the outer circle.

Each obelisk was made from a different composition of pure crystal

designed to amplify both light and the resonations of sound and energy. On

their own, there was nothing special about these crystal structures. However,

once activated, they would vibrate in harmony with one another and with the

corresponding gems in the Lightbringer's body to create a chain reaction of

metaphysical energy.

The view from this chamber was as impressive as the room itself. From

his lofty pinnacle, more than a mile above the already high holy mountain, Helel

could see every kingdom of the world (for in those days there had yet been no

continental divide and every land mass on earth was still connected and visible

from this height over Eden).

If one were to draw a line dissecting the earth from North to South and

then another line from East to West, Babel-One was located at precisely the

central point of the earth. The capital cities of the world's twelve kingdoms were

centered around twelve great towers similar to Babel-One (though not quite as

grand in height) that shared in the purpose of inducting the great ceremony of

illumination. Each capital city's obelisk was placed at the center focal point of a

Metatron's Cube that not only followed the pattern of the crystal chamber, but

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(Kingdoms, Metatron's Cube & the earth before the first continental divide)

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the design itself was widely known to be the architectural blueprint of the

universe.

The fundamental forms of the known physical universe all derive from

Metatron's Cube. From the smallest molecules, to the structure of the elements

of the periodic table, to the complex bonding of molecules to vast galaxies, all

share these fundamental, mathematical blueprints. It was only logical then, that

these epicenters of the earth should be positioned in this pattern in order to

optimally amplify and relay the Sephiroth's energies.

"The world is waiting," thought Helel as he walked amidst the beautiful

stones, now so illuminated with light they seemed to be on fire from within. He

took his place at the world's center stage in order to begin conducting his great

symphony, the holy Sephiroth.

As he began, he drew breath and pulled energy from the metaphysical

plane through his soul and into our own realm. As the stones of his body

glowed and hummed with life and power, the great obelisks answered back and

began to vibrate and resonate in harmony. The dynamic was exponential. Helel's

energy fed from the room and the room from him until a crescendo of light,

music and metaphysical energy burst from the crystal chamber across the globe

to the other Babylonian towers. For the next twenty-four hours, Helel's

meditation would power this chain reaction of energy known as the Sephiroth

and the world would bask in its glow.

The Sephiroth was the oldest and most sacred tradition of the race of

Scherubimi. Since the beginning of time, when the keystone of the earth was laid

and the first of their race walked the earth, it had been taught - the meditative

path of illumination and the sustenance of existence. In the beginning, there

were no great obelisks, just men and mystics trying to grasp a glimpse of the

divine and fathom the purpose for their existence. It was Helel, many thousands

of years ago who grew in knowledge and wisdom and began to discover the

power of metaphysical energy, its sciences and the nature of the force that drives

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it. The building blocks of this power, subatomic quantum particles, would come

to be known by men as "the God particle" because of its unique

multidimensional properties that bring the reality of unseen "existence" into

convergence with the physical world.

The Sephiroth brought light to their world in every way. Even more

culturally transforming than the applied sciences of quantum physics and

metaphysics were the diverse effects of the Sephiroth on the soul. No longer

were spiritual realities far off and attainable only to the esoteric mystics. The

Sephiroth caused the veil between heaven and earth to wane thin for individuals

who tapped into the power of the meta force. This sacred rite brought

illumination to the mind and soul as well as healing, vigor and rejuvenation to

the body. In this sacred ceremony, all became acutely aware of their individuality

and simultaneously, of the importance of every individual. The Sephiroth

accomplished nothing short of uniting the world. Out of a darker age, the meta

brought to life the greatest spiritual, intellectual and artistic renaissance the world

has and will ever know as enlightened and divinely guided minds advanced in all

the diverse passions and pursuits a man may cultivate.

This was the world as Helel now knew it - the world he had created.

Their race was at the pinnacle of its existence. Hunger and poverty had been

eliminated completely. Every kingdom of the world enjoyed peace. Though the

race of Scherubimi were still mortal in theory, advancements in medicine,

genetics and nutrition coupled with the power of the meta force which rapidly

healed injuries and cured any disease made life expectancy untold.

So the world waited with a palpable air of excitement in anticipation of

the things the Sephiroth would show them week after week. Helel brought them

light and life - and they loved him for it. He was the Lightbringer, the bright

morning star that brought illumination and the very presence of God to the

world.

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Of the countless names that will be given to the One True God over the

ages, the name the Scherubimi gave to God, or perhaps that God gave to them,

was Akatriel Yah Yehod Sebaoth. And though no man had ever seen Him, no

one could deny the feeling of connectedness they experienced and the impetus

of His hand upon their soul during the Sephiroth. Helel felt a proud sense of

fulfillment and divine purpose as he spread the knowledge of Akatriel

throughout the earth.

Many gathered in religious centers to meditate, worship and seek the

inspiration of Akatriel for their life's questions and callings. Others would

meditate at home or while working at their life's passions. Others made

pilgrimages to the different sites of the great Babylonian obelisks as it was

believed that each geographical location's energy facilitated a unique

manifestation of spiritual revelation - a different point of encounter with the

divine.

As heavenly illumination filled Helel's mind, it was for this divine

encounter that Helel also prayed today. The vision of the Dark Lord was as vivid

and real as any vision he had experienced during the ceremony. His visions were

never wrong. Could it be that this dark rider and his power was also real? If so,

what would be the outcome of the Dark Lord's plans? Did he possess the power

to overthrow Helel's kingdom?

As he focused on these troubling questions, he experienced a common

sensation of weightlessness and he began to transcend into other planes of

thought. Brilliant white light filled his mind's eye. But when he again opened his

eyes, the glorious crystal chamber was gone and a world altogether foreign

assaulted his senses.

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The warm light of the crystal chamber had faded to a dark and rainy

night. Helel's senses quickly adjusted to the noisy, smelly and horribly garish

scene around him.

He spun around trying to take in the scene and gather his wits. "What

is this place?"

"Bwaah!-Bwaah!" blurted a loud horn as a yellow vehicle whizzed past

him. Its driver was angrily shouting obscenities in chorus. Helel stood in the

midst of a great thoroughfare. Cars screamed past him in every direction at a

blinding pace, spattering him with wet mist from the dingy road. Everywhere he

looked, flashing lights and bright signs with strange writing and photos of

people and products littered his view.

Amidst the mass of noise, smell and confusion, Helel tried to get his

bearings and carefully look for some detail or sign of why this place was

significant. He was surrounded by tall buildings that rose callously to the sky,

giving no regard for beauty or any attempt to accentuate the aesthetics of their

environment. There was no sign of greenery or landscape. Even the sky was

devoid of stars - just the flashing lights of obnoxiously loud flying machines,

very different from the quiet, elegant airships to which he was accustomed, as

they lumbered toward earth, no doubt to land nearby.

As he stood gawking at his surroundings, more of the loud vehicles

blasted their horns at him and their drivers shouted angrily. Crowds of people

gathered on sidewalks in front of the buildings pointing, shouting and laughing

at him.

The bewildered Seraph made a hasty dash for the side of the road,

cutting off traffic as cars screeched to a stop, missing him by only inches.

Startled and unnerved, he fumbled his way through a crowd of interested

onlookers who were all laughing at his close encounter in the street. Helel

quietly retreated into a dark alley to find refuge from the screeching cars, crowds

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and noise of the city. He tried to catch his breath only to fill his nostrils with the

overpowering stench of rancid garbage from a rusty nearby dumpster.

"This place is an abomination!" he shouted in breathless frustration.

The crowd of onlookers just laughed, pointed and muttered in a strange

dialect as they went back to their normal lives.

"Why would any sane person come here? And why would anyone walk

right next to a street with those loud, mechanical deathtraps?"

Haste was not common in his culture. When one lives for thousands of

years, the destination and the journey are both equally valuable experiences.

Scherubimi built grand airships not for the speed of travel but for comfort,

recreation and observation. They rode horses to experience nature and get

where they were going without littering the landscape with ugly roads that

detract from natural beauty.

Indeed nothing of his surroundings was familiar. A din of cacophonous

racket pierced the night in every direction. There seemed to be no order, no care,

no beauty in anything he beheld. Just a rush of people, distracted from life by

wherever they were going and whatever they were doing. Helel leaned back

against the dumpster and recoiled at the chill.

"My God, this is no mere vision… I'm actually here. Wherever here is."

He briskly rubbed his cold, wet arms, soaked from the misting rain. He

realized that he was practically naked as well. Having removed his priestly robes

before beginning the Sephiroth, he was bare-chested and wore only a long

loincloth that hung to his knees.

"How foolish these people must think me. Oh Akatriel, how do I get

home? Why am I here in the first place?"

He stepped out of the alley and tried to hail some of the people passing.

Person after person simply looked him up and down and scurried by without

making eye contact. They all seemed to speak this strange foreign language. He

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looked around and around, pondering what to do. Finally he stepped back into

the alley and closed his eyes to meditate.

Almost instantly, Helel felt a dark presence behind him. He spun around,

looking for the eyes that burrowed into his flesh. Then in the shadows, at the

back of the alley he saw him, a dark, robed figure, motionless, watching and

never breaking his gaze. This figure also curiously stood with his hand on the

head of a lone youth at the back of the alley.

Helel jumped at the sight and took a couple steps away from the pair.

"How did I not notice them here before?"

The youth seemed troubled, but not necessarily by Helel's presence, and

nodded his head slightly but quickly back and forth as though rehearsing some

angry lyric or unholy argument. Helel pitied the youth. He seemed somehow

hypnotized by the dark figure playing him as a puppet.

Helel was unsure what to do. He was certain this figure was not the

Dark Prince he had previously encountered but he felt a similar dark energy

from him.

"Does the Dark Lord have minions who also do his bidding?"

The question would have to wait. Suddenly, two radiant beings, robed in

white from head to toe, wearing even white cloths across their heads, passed

through the walls of the building behind the young man and stood at his side.

They made eye contact with the dark figure but said nothing. Slowly and

rhythmically they began to pluck at the air around the young man as one plucks

the strings of a harp, focusing on his head and points in his back. The young

man's demeanor changed slightly although he showed no signs that he was even

aware of these two men who phased through the building and were

manipulating his energy.

"Empaths!"

Helel was excited to finally see something remotely familiar in this

foreign land.

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"They are undoubtedly trying to counteract the dark figure's own magic against this

lad. Well done."

Helel began to stride toward the otherwise strange scene that was

playing out around this young man and called out to the two mysterious

empaths, "Graces to you and through you my friends!"

The simple, short phrase taken from his standard benediction was a

common enough Scherubimi greeting, especially when addressing someone

actively using metaphysical abilities. It simply conveyed warm wishes that the

light of Akatriel should come to a person for their own illumination and shine

through them to the world at large. However, the two empaths' heads snapped

up suddenly as though aghast and astonished to hear the greeting. Then, a look

of confused horror came over their faces as they recognized Helel walking

toward them. Only for a moment did they pause, bewildered and mesmerized,

before quickly turning to dart back through the wall of the building from

whence they came.

"No! Why?" shouted Helel as he ran to the wall through which they had

just passed and slammed his fist against the bricks in frustration. His confusion

and mental state made phasing through the wall to follow them an impossibility

at the moment.

"Wait! What am I to do in this place?"

He turned his attention to the dark figure and glared at it angrily. The

figure also turned and fled through the back wall of the alley leaving Helel and

the young man alone together. The boy yelled angrily at Helel in the unknown

tongue. Though he didn't understand the language he assumed that his behavior

and attire was unnerving to the already troubled lad.

"How do I get him to understand?"

He moved toward the boy and gestured for the boy to calm down. "I am

the Lightbringer. Lightbringer? Do you understand? I can help you. We can help

each other!"

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The boy just backed up against the back wall of the alley and began to

gesture wildly back. His language was nothing more than gibberish to Helel. Like

a cornered animal, he grew increasingly agitated and enraged by the second.

The youth reached into his coat and pulled out a shiny metal object with

a handle and pointed it at Helel. He waved it wildly and menacingly. Helel had

never seen a gun. Such objects did not exist in their society as the Scherubimi

had outlawed any object meant to take the life of another. The object was

meaningless to him - rather intriguing actually.

"Clearly this boy is troubled," he thought." It is no wonder the two empaths had

been at work on this lad. Perhaps he will respond to my empathic energy also." Helel lifted

his hand toward the young man to project a wave of peace and tranquility of

mind.

The agitated young man, however, responded immediately. He cocked

back the hammer on the gun and thrust it deeply into Helel's ribs. The pain

winded the Lightbringer for a moment but nothing could have prepared him for

what happened next. He looked down as a blast of fire, smoke and deafening

sound exploded from the device. The ear splitting sound ripped violently

through the night air as the pain from the gunshot ripped through Helel's body.

He clutched his stomach and doubled over onto the wet, dirty pavement as the

boy shouted at him and ran off.

"What just happened to me?"

The force of the bullet took his breath away and he gasped helplessly for

air, trying again to cause his lungs to function. His gut felt like burning embers

had been dumped inside of him and he clutched the wound hoping the pain

would end.

In the street, people yelled at each other excitedly and came running to

see what had happened. He looked up to see a crowd gather but the din of their

shouts and his view of world around him faded as he slipped from

consciousness.

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An instant later he gasped for air and found himself back in the crystal

chamber. Unlike the night before when he awoke in the comfort of his own bed,

he now awoke to searing pain in his gut and the sound of his own gurgling

breaths as he choked and sputtered on the floor. Wrenched with sobering pain

in this awakening, he grasped, not at his rich scarlet sheets, but at scarlet pools

of his own blood slinking across the tiled floor of the chamber.

As pain and fear filled his mind he lost control of his abilities. The gems

in his body sent out a blast of energy that clashed with the energies of the

sanctum's stones; and like the gunshot that only a moment earlier had torn

through Helel's abdomen, his energy projection carried the fear and bodily

torment he felt through the metaphysical plane, projecting it around the globe.

Searing pain shrieked across the Metalands tearing like a jagged slash in the mind

and souls of those meditating in the meta light. Each soul connected through the

Sephiroth now felt a piece of the physical and mental agony that Helel was

experiencing.

The gravity of his situation was beginning to set in. "If I don't do something,

I will die on this floor. I must get help!"

Helel tried to get to his knees, hoping to crawl his way back to the

elevator but the pain was too intense and his strength poured out as quickly as

his blood. He grabbed his wound and collapsed again, writhing on his back in

anguish.

"Oh God, are these my final moments?"

He prayed they were not. The light from his body's gems dimmed as

trickles of blood ran across his chest filling their cavities.

"Oh Akatriel," he prayed, "All I ever wanted was to serve you."

Just for a moment it seemed as though his gems grew bright again. In

the center of the room a golden orb of light appeared, shimmering in midair.

"That light… I should go to it…"

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The strange orb of warm light formed a circle and opened a few inches,

filling the room with brilliant light… then all went black.

The Lightbringer was dying.

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__________________________________________

Chapter 4:

Seraphim

__________________________________________

In the uppermost gardens, Raphael and Remiel went about their usual

work of ministering to the crowds, unaware of the pain that was about to ravage

their minds and souls. The pair, master and apprentice, were unassuming, the

sort of kind and humble souls that you would expect of men who had devoted

their lives to monastic service of the Lord and mankind. Both wore woven robes

devoid of fancy embellishment save for some embroidery work at the cuffs and

hem. Raphael as the Arch Seraph over the Empathic School wore a slightly

more distinctive garment that buttoned up the center with a high collar which

was usually hidden by his long, dark, wavy hair. He wore a large belt, folded so

as to create pockets for his use and tied at the center.

The two worked diligently, week after week, tending to the needs of all

living things in the garden: man, beast and plant life.

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They had lived simply, happily and humbly in this way for a very long

time without upset. All the more unexpected and shocking, then, was the jolt of

searing pain that suddenly surged through them, mind, body and soul.

As the dark energy triggered by Helel's pain surged through the

Metasphere, Raphael doubled over in pain clutching at both his head and chest.

It was impossible to discern if the pain he felt was physical or spiritual as the

dissonant energy cut through the balmy morning air. Regardless, it felt like a hot,

searing knife had been plunged into his head and was ripping a hole straight

down through his back.

He looked over at Remiel, his understudy, who also lay on the ground

writhing in anguish. The crowds around them, mothers, fathers, helpless

children also shrieked in pain as the unprecedented event unfolded. People

clutched their heads and held their ears trying to make sense of what was

happening and block some of the pain that flooded their souls. Parents clawed

across the ground trying to hold and comfort their screaming children.

Raphael and Remiel, despite their vast power could do nothing but

watch, overcome with pain themselves. Slowly the dissonant energy subsided

and Raphael’s wits began to return to him. The two had fortuitously been

tending to one of the more “unique” trees of the garden during the Sephiroth,

administering their mystical fruit to those in need of it. Raphael still clutched two

pieces of it in his hands. He looked at the mystical, golden fruit as it gave off its

faint glow.

He tossed one piece to Remiel. “Tend to the crowds. I have to…”

“Go!” Remiel interrupted, knowing his thoughts. “Tend to the

Lightbringer!”

The Sephiroth had never ended violently in all their long years and they

feared what the cause may be but instantly assumed the worst.

Raphael again looked down at the piece of fruit in his other hand. "Just

in case." he reasoned and stuffed it deep into the pocket of his robe.

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He gave a quick nod to Remiel and began sprinting toward Babel-One.

The mystical gardens were the top tier in all of Eden's vast gardens. That being

said, he was still over half a mile from the base of the tower.

As he raced with all his might, the Seraph suddenly became aware of a

curious flapping sound and a rush of air over his head. Without warning,

Michael crashed meteorically to the ground so close to him that the force of the

impact knocked Raphael from his feet. Michael's long blonde hair and blue,

embroidered belt that girded the midsection of his otherwise simple, loosely

fitted tunic and pants still flapped in the breeze following his rather hasty

descent from above.

"Michael!" burst Raphael. "If we are going to go about dropping from

the sky today, could we possibly do it a bit farther than inches away from

crushing me to death?"

Michael's powerful body still knelt on the ground where he landed a

moment before. Raphael quipped, "Are you going to get up out of your crater

and tell me what you are doing?"

"There's no time for levity." Michael replied cryptically. "I have just

heard from Phanuel and we must go now before it is too late!" As quickly as he

had landed, he stood and grabbed Raphael by the belt, wrenched it tightly and

drew him close to his side, lifting Raphael off his feet. Then with a nearly gut

bursting jolt, Raphael found himself rocketing through the air alongside Michael,

who with a great leap, carried them both aloft, soaring toward the great

mountain obelisk at the center of the gardens.

In mere moments and with just two bounds, Michael covered a distance

that would have taken Raphael several minutes to run and they landed forcefully

at the base of Babel-One.

Michael offered only this explanation which confirmed Raphael's initial

fears, "Only you can save my brother. Please. Save him."

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Again Michael pulled Raphael to his side and rocketed upward into the

air upward alongside the tower, projecting every ounce of his unparalleled

telekinetic ability into a focused vertical burst. Raphael's eyes watered as they

whipped through the air and he squinted through his bleary eyes to keep the

wind from lashing at them. He groaned to himself as he contemplated the

dizzying height, "Probably for the best that I can't see the ground shrinking

below me."

Michael could not fly, but the burst of meta-kinetic force that he had

produced to launch them aloft had now flown them nearly to the top of the

tower, almost a mile in the air. A fall from this height would kill Raphael easily

and he didn't mind the tight grasp Michael had on his belt now.

"I don't think I can go much higher. Get ready!" shouted Michael.

"For what?" Raphael cringed.

Michael reached into his tunic and pulled out a merka baton, the

conventional weapon of a fighting kinetic. He hurled it toward one of the large,

eight-foot hexagonal windows on the shaft of the tower just before the two

began falling. Then, without warning, Michael hurled Raphael toward the tower

just as he had the baton. Raphael and the baton both found themselves as

unwilling projectiles as Michael fell far out of reach back to earth below. Raphael

closed his eyes and cringed, awaiting the imminent impact.

The staff smashed a small hole through the window in front of him and

he winced as his body finished the job an instant later. Shards of thick, razor

sharp glass sliced through his flesh as he crashed awkwardly through the large

broken porthole in the side of Babel-One. The lacerations, however, were not

his primary concern as he slid uncontrollably across the smooth eight-foot deep

window shaft toward another interior pane of glass.

"If I can't stop, I'm a dead man."

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Through the next pane of glass was a steep drop down the mile long

central shaft of the tower. If he couldn't stop in time, the vertical drop down

would be lethal.

Raphael's body bounced off the hard metal window shaft and he clawed

at the hexagonal walls, desperately trying to slow his momentum. Shattered

shards of glass, now littering the smooth metal walls ground painfully into his

already gashed hands and arms as he searched to find anything that he might

grasp. It was no use. The Seraph careened head-first through the second interior

pane and, as a desperate final attempt, clutched a large remaining piece of jagged

glass that still clung to the window's frame. The thick glass sliced deeply into his

hands as he held on with all his might… to no avail. Deadly momentum carried

his body over the edge and the shard simply snapped off in his hand. Raphael's

worst fears were realized: the bloodied Seraph was now plummeting down the

mile-long shaft to inevitable death if he could not think of something quickly.

As he plummeted, the landings of the open, spiraling staircase that

wound its way up the tower streaked past at a sickening pace. "If I can just catch

a landing…" Raphael reached out to try to grab one of the open landings as he

fell. However, with the speed of his descent, the hard edge of the marble stairs

merely struck his forearms with unforgiving force and a bone shattering "crack"!

The attempt had only slowed his fall for a second and with a shattered

forearm, another attempt would be even less likely to succeed. Raphael clutched

his throbbing arm against his chest as he continued his deadly fall. "Only one

option left. God, let this work!"

With a well timed, powerful kick off the wall, Raphael redirected his

descent toward an open portion of the endlessly long staircase and successfully

smashed against the hard, stone stairs with bone breaking force only inches from

the edge.

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"Ouch." Raphael moaned as he tried to move. He took a breath and

instantly winced, curling into a fetal position from the agony. He could hear the

bones in his rib cage grinding. "That would be five or six broken ribs."

He tried to roll over and get to his knees. His arm gave out beneath him

and he collapsed on his stomach, peering over the edge. "Yep… arm and

shoulder are definitely broken too."

Suddenly he heard a voice in his head - the voice of Phanuel. "Hurry,

Raphael. Helel's life is nearly lost."

Raphael groaned, "My dear, at the moment I'm not doing so well

either."

Raphael looked down the tower's long central shaft and whistled… "But

an inch or two to the left and it could have been a lot worse. That was a little too

close for comfort."

"You must get to him quickly! I'll telepathically inform the rest of the council."

He stretched out the terribly broken arm and snapped it into place as a

bloody gash across his face healed almost instantly. All over his body, broken

bones and lacerations began to supernaturally mend.

Raphael was the greatest healer in the world. He was one of the seven,

the order of Seraphim. The seven high Seraphs, each in their own right, were the

most powerful beings on the planet. He was empathic, a resonator - and his

unique gifting not only gave him the ability to affect the soul (though not on the

level of Helel), but more uniquely, he could channel metaphysical energies that

profoundly quickened healing and growth in all living things. His own body was

a perpetual conduit of this miraculous healing power.

Raphael wasted no time. He was instantly on his feet and began to race

up the stairs to the top of the tower. He had not fallen far and it would only take

him a couple of minutes to reach the top. Raphael's unique gifting also allowed

him to exert himself without ever tiring. His muscles regenerated instantly.

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"Phanuel, are you still with me? You have been monitoring his thoughts?

What happened?"

"It is unclear. Only after the event did I reach out to him. I know little more than

you - only that his presence is now very weak. He has only moments."

Raphael wondered what he would find as he reached the pinnacle and

raced up the final flight of stairs to the chamber. If anything were to happen to

the Lightbringer, Raphael was most certainly the next empath in line to wield the

power of the Sephiroth, but this was the first time he had set foot into the

chamber. He had many times imagined what it was like, but the grizzly sight

before him was far from what he imagined. Helel lay pale and cold in a pool of

blood at the center of the great crystalline room.

"Blessed Akatriel, let me not be too late."

He quickly ran and knelt next to the Lightbringer. Helel's wound was

still emptying his body of life giving blood. Raphael quickly assessed the

situation. "OK. Body is still a little warm." He closed his eyes and reached out

soul-to-soul in invisible realms. "I feel you still in there, Helel. Time to come

back to us."

Energy from Raphael's body washed over the Lightbringer's limp frame

and deep wound. Raphael was now in tune with all the cells of Helel's body. His

healing intuition told him something was wrong.

"There's something inside of him."

He rubbed his fingers together and plunged them deep into the open

wound and gingerly probed until he felt the foreign piece of metal. "There you

are… but what are you?"

He withdrew his hand from Helel's abdomen and held the smooth,

rounded metal object between his bloody fingers. He carefully set the foreign

object aside - the answer didn't quite matter at this moment. The Lightbringer's

life was in the balance.

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Raphael conjured as much healing energy as he could and slowly the

wound began to close. Helel's body grew warmer, but Raphael could sense that

he had lost too much blood.

"Helel, my friend, I fear you need a miracle beyond what I can muster.

This will take time and that is a luxury that you have none of. Blessed Akatriel,

what are we to do?"

Suddenly he remembered his last rushed moments in the garden. He

plunged his hand deep into his pocket and pulled forth the golden piece of fruit

he had so hastily reserved for such a moment as this. The skin of the mystical

fruit shimmered with its own light. Raphael had taken centuries to perfect this

particular wonder of nature. Week after week, year after year, he used his gifts to

channel different, specific energies from the meta force into various trees of the

garden, infusing them with supernatural qualities. This particular marvel had

been plucked from a tree he called "The Tree of Life" due to its unique healing

and life-giving properties. The Tree of Life produced fruit so potently infused

with life-force meta energy that it rapidly healed wounds and drastically

prolonged lifespan - even in animals.

Raphael hurriedly ripped back the golden rind and crushed the fruit in

his hand. Juice poured out, running into Helel's mouth. The life-giving nectar

began rebuilding Helel's body instantly, creating building blocks of matter within

his cells out of the unseen "God particles". Raphael could feel his soul reviving

and continued to channel energy into the Lightbringer.

"Phanuel, if you are still listening, I think he's going to make it!"

At the same time, Michael burst into the chamber and stopped dead at

the sight of his brother's lifeless body. He suddenly looked as if he himself had

been shot. Truly now, this gruesome spectacle struck Michael more powerfully

than any blow and he crumpled to the blood stained floor by his brother's side.

Raphael had never seen the great and powerful Michael show pain like this.

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"My brother, we cannot lose you! I'm sorry I could not protect you. I'm

so, so sorry."

"He will pull through, Michael. I got to him just in time, thanks to you.

There was nothing more you could have done."

"I've always protected him. How did this happen? Did you find him

alone?"

Raphael didn't get the chance to answer. At the sound of his brother's

voice, something stirred in Helel. He turned his head and struggled to open his

eyes, showing the first signs of life since Raphael had arrived. Raphael's healing

was taking effect.

Helel tried to raise his head to speak but Raphael attempted to silence

him placing a hand over his mouth, "Your strength is still waxing. You must

save your energy and allow me to work."

Helel however would not be silenced. With all his remaining strength he

brushed the hand aside and pulled Raphael close enough to be heard clearly. "I

have seen the end of all we know. Call for a Counsel of the Thrones!"