The Angels' Pride Read online

  “What are they?”

  “Oh them? Harpies. They stop people from escaping their punishment.”

  “Punishment? Punishment for what?”

  “They truly taught you nothing.” She shook her head sadly “The actions of mortals during their lives affect their afterlives. Those who lead good lives end up in Heaven or similar places, those who don’t end up in Hell.”

  “But that seemed so brutal like it was a sport to them.”

  Hecate turned those ancient, haunted eyes to her “Harpies gauge their actions based on their victims. He was a rapist who murdered his victims, he has a long time to pay off his crimes.”

  She turned and headed down the hill, leaving Sariel to chase after her.

  Hecate pointed to the building as they passed the lines of people waiting outside “In there the spirits of the dead are judged based on their actions in life. It is a place of great power, the judging is final and cannot be overturned unless by a God.”

  “Why would a God overturn a judgement?”

  “Was there ever anyone in Heaven who you thought shouldn’t have been there?”

  “I don’t know I was never allowed to leave the palace. Though Ariel’s Inquisitors always gave me the creeps.”

  Well, that explained a lot about her naivety if she was never allowed to leave the palace then what information she came into contact with could be easily controlled. But why would Michael of all people keep his sister so much in the dark?

  “That might explain why both Michael and Gabriel barely tolerated them in the palace. So you’re saying that they belonged in Hell, but Ariel saved them?”

  “It is very possible” and very likely, Ariel was very similar to Gabriel but of a crueller nature, she didn’t have the same self-control Gabriel had. The fact she had spent a lot of time with the Aztec Gods and spent a considerable time as Ares’ lover said a lot about her sadistic nature.

  “Where are we headed?” Sariel asked full of curiosity, her time in Hades was revitalising her, she didn’t look quite so ready to keel over and was walking on her own.

  She pointed at the border of the fiery landscape and the balanced landscape, the shape of a tower could just be seen between the clouds and smoke “There to Hades’ palace.” Damn she had been avoiding mentioning his name. What would Sariel already know about him? What misconceptions had she been spoon fed?

  “There is a palace down here?” She hadn’t even blinked at the name, it meant nothing to her. The name of one of the oldest and most feared Gods meant absolutely nothing to her. What the Hell were the Angels playing at?

  Hecate laughed “Of course, where else would a ruler live but in a palace.”

  “I don’t know where else would they live?”

  She laughed again the girls naivety was surprisingly endearing. This could work to their advantage. “Rulers usually live in palaces or something similar as a mark of their power. It has been proven time and time again by mortals and Divine alike. It is a symbol of their power, it is also a deterrent against rebellion. But here in Hades, no one would dare, this is and always will be his realm.

  “It must be comforting for him to know that.”

  She laughed again, its pure melodies drawing the attention of the dead “I imagine it must be, you should tell him that. It might take the sting out of ruling here.”

  “Why does it sting to rule here?”

  “Never mind that is a story for a different time.”

  Walking in the borderlands was daunting for Sariel, it quickly sapped what little strength she had gleaned from the hills. Hecate was completely used to the whole realm but deflected much of its brunt away from them. She once again had to support the poor girl, she was looking ready to collapse again. She needed food and rest to heal her body. How long had she been in the Underworld to be on the verge of Desiccating?

  The land was dark and stormy, holding the threat of wrath and vengeance in every inch of it. The sky was a maelstrom, lines of fire stretched across it like rivers, lightning rent the air in bright flashes. Bruised clouds fed on the plumes of smoke and behind it all flittered shadows. Some were Harpies, the others Sariel had no idea what they were.

  They had walked onto a long causeway leading to the palace that was currently obscured by a storm. On their left lay lakes and rivers of lava that continually spat sparks and smoke into the air. Sharp black rocks dominated the landscape, they seemed inclined to keep breaking, always leaving their edges sharp. The land was so smoky it obscured most of the people.

  She wished it had obscured them all. People were staked out, chained up or fleeing their pursuers. Strange creatures of nightmare were torturing the inhabitants, rending them into pieces. It left her feeling cold despite the heat pulsating out of the lava.

  On the other side stood a storm blasted forest, dark with twisting mist and low clouds. Strange forms moved within those shadows, but were they spirits, guardians or torturers? She didn’t know.

  White flowers grew everywhere, among the trees, in the meadows and even on the sheer cliff faces where rivers cascaded into the magma under the bridge. Occasionally something would pick one of the flowers, but she never managed to see what, only mist and shadows.

  “Those are asphodels, they have a special meaning in this place, you’ll find them quite abundant everywhere.”

  Seeing the landscape and having lived in the governing palace of Heaven she thought she would have been prepared for Hades’ palace.

  She wasn’t.

  It was intimidating. It perched on a rock outcrop in the middle of a lake of lava. Steam and smoke rose from the lake, twisting and twirling around the palace as it rose, casting strange orange rainbows between the dancing sparks. Asphodel grew liberally all over the outcrop, every nook, and cranny, every patch of earth had an explosion of the flowers, glowing pale white.

  The palace was built from the same black rock as the bridge and outcrop, it seemed to absorb the light and reflect none of it back. It blended into every shadow cast across it from the smoke and clouds.

  The palace soared up off the outcrop as though it was trying to stab the sky, the soaring central tower was lost in the clouds above. The palace was all about sharp angles, high walls and soaring arches that all seemed to blend into the shadows. It was as though the palace wanted to become shadows.

  The portcullis was raised, but she could see the lethally sharp points of black metal as they walked underneath it, through the thick walls and into the courtyard beyond.

  Walking into the courtyard was hardly better, it just seemed to breathe shadows. The grand scale was imposing without the comfort of light that the governing palace had to balance itself with. Macabre statues adorned the courtyard, seeming to jump out of the many shadows. In the centre stood a grand fountain, pouring forth black water. The only break to the shadows were the asphodel plants in the fountain, their white lights stark against the black water.

  Hecate led her unerringly up to the looming black double doors that swung open as they approached them. A much smaller Cerberus greeted them, his tail wagging contently. Sariel almost laughed in here he was a comforting sight, strange to think that the Monster that had tried to kill her gave her comfort.

  She looked around as she followed Hecate into the corridors. They all had high vaulted ceilings, some had triangular windows looking out onto the magma lake. Each corridor seemed stark and bleak, their only adornment more statues or suits of armour. Hecate led them through side corridors until they entered the grand entrance hall.

  Sariel stared in amazement at the white marble staircase covered in luxurious red carpet with gold designs. Bright green and blue tapestries hung from arches, though their design was completely alien to her she found them comforting. Cerberus jumped around Hecate as she led her up the stairs, like everything else it was on a grand scale but she found it strangely comforting, she was used to white staircases. It led up to the next level, ending at imposing ebony doors.

  They opened silently as th
ey approached, Cerberus rushed in before them.

  Sariel followed into the room staring about in awe. It was a huge hall with a high vaulted ceiling, all composed of black rock. Large glass windows graced the walls letting in streams of light that couldn’t be coming from outside. It was bright enough to belong in Heaven. The floor was all white marble, its veins all pointed towards the raised dais of grey marble. A long black carpet led up to the dais, on which sat two black marble thrones, inlaid with gold and ebony.

  As impressive as the room and thrones were her eyes were drawn to the two people sitting on them.

  One was a beautiful woman with long brown hair wearing a classical style dress of grey and midnight blue. She wore silver bangles on her arms, silver sandals on her feet as well as long delicate earrings. She wore an iron crown, decorated with silver and black pearls while a large amethyst hung between her breasts. She was pale skinned from lack of sunlight, looked delicate but had fierce silver eyes that pierced her like a hawk’s.

  The man sitting next to her held the same strength she did but of a different kind. While she was delicate, he was quite muscular. He wore a black toga with gold trimming, golden sandals but no jewellery graced his pallid olive skin. His hair was short and black, as was his beard and upon his head he wore a bronze and black helmet. He was the man from the carvings, but he looked very different.

  She had never felt so out of place in her life. She stood in torn and dirty robes while the three of them were stunning in their dark clothing. For once in her life she was glad her skin was pale and that her hair and wings were black, it gave her the smallest sense of not being completely alien. At least her eyes were similar in colour to Hecate’s.

  The two people on the throne stared at her for a long time before he spoke “Hecate why have you brought an Arch Angel into my domain? His voice gave her the creeps, there was something not altogether natural sounding about it.

  “I’m hardly much of an Arch Angel” those black eyes flicked to her, glaring with the full might of undiluted rage. His queen placed her hand on his arm to calm him.

  She stood up fixing her silver eyes on Sariel “You two have matters to discuss I will attend to the needs of our guest, she looks the worse for wear. We will re-join you for dinner” She swept down the dais, her train making soft musical noises behind her “Come child” she ushered Sariel along in front of her. She cast a worried look over her shoulder at Hecate, who simply smiled at her.

  Hecate turned back to face Hades when the doors snapped shut. “She is a special case. She is Michael’s sister and you could say Gabriel’s Protégé.”

  “Michael’s sister! You brought Michael’s own sister into my domain. Are you trying to kill us all? We will have all the Legions of Heaven pouring through our gate. You have brought our destruction upon us.”

  “Stop being so dramatic Hades, the Angels are not going to come into the Underworld, they would be stuck here just like we are. Michael’s sister is the key to our salvation not the harbinger of our doom. She has been horribly mistreated by her family, kept as a prisoner and power slave. She escaped and in the process freed Brigid and Hera. Hera opened the Portal for them all, helping Sariel flee. If that isn’t the highest recommendation, then I don’t know what is.”

  “Hera is free? My sister is alive?”

  “Yes, I believe that she is on the Surface.”

  “Then she is sowing the seeds for the Gods return, let us hope she has avoided the whole Mediterranean region for the usurpers will surely look there first.”

  “I believe they will have their hands full looking for Brigid, Hera, and Sariel.”

  “And what are your plans for this Arch Angel?”

  “Sariel is young and naive, she has been sorely mistreated by her brother. She barely knows how to use her magic, but she has incredible potential. She has no notions of our names or any of the other connotations attached to us. We are a blank slate to her, she has no preconceptions about us. She has no reason to distrust us, no reason to fear us. I believe we can use her to break the stalemate.”

  “And how do you propose to do that?”

  “She has the powers of an Arch Angel, untested yes but she can break the Curse on Lucifer. She can open up the Underworld.”

  He gasped “If she can free Lucifer we may stand a chance at winning the War.”

  “If she can break the Curse.”

  Sariel sighed as she slipped herself into the bath. She groaned in pleasure as the hot water rose up over her breasts and neck, the cleaning agents stinging the fading scars. She had had a small amount of food to tide her over to dinner, but it had not been enough to fully recharge her healing abilities. The water eased stiff and sore muscles while the dirt slowly slid off of her. She needed to scrub but lacked the energy, instead easing back to think.

  She had been incredibly lucky that Hecate had found her, another day or two and she would have been unable to move and would have been easy prey to any Demons. And if they hadn’t found her she would have become little more than a Divine corpse, a true power slave for whoever happened to find her. The body is weak, but the power is strong. She suddenly wondered if Heaven contained Desiccated corpses of Angels, had they been returned to their living state or were they simply being tapped. Did any of the Demon races do the same thing?

  Desiccation had been staved off with a visit to the kitchens where she had been introduced to Persephone’s mother, Demeter. She had stared at her for a long time her green eyes cold and calculating before Persephone had laid her arm on her. Sariel wondered if there was some special significance in that action for both Demeter and Hades to suddenly capitulate their unguarded anger. She seemed universally hated for being an Angel.

  Her small lunch had given her a glimpse into life in the palace. Demeter and Persephone had the relationship she had always longed for with her mother, though she was dead. She could tell they were guarded around her, though Persephone seemed to warm to her. She took her out on a tour of the palace, it was a truly impeding building, it seemed to live and breathe darkness, and it cast long shadows over the landscape around it. It was nowhere near the size of the governing palace in Heaven, and it lacked its delicate beauty, but it had its own dark beauty. And its views were truly amazing.

  She saw the Shadowlands or more correctly the Asphodel Fields, the flowers glowing like stars in the mist and shadows. It was where most people went. In the distance, she saw Elysium with its sunlight and beautiful trees, the place for those chosen by the Gods and for heroes. Then there were the fiery lands of torment which stood above the Gates of Tartarus.

  As beautiful as the views from the walls were she was stunned by the views at the top of the central tower. She had seen for miles in every direction, the views so different and striking. It was so different from Heaven, she found she loved it more. Variety and change were interesting, fascinating. Everything was so different from Heaven.

  There was even a limitation to the skies, up this high she could see the great dome of rock that encompassed all of Hades. There was no endless airspace leading up into the Darkness Beyond. No one dared venture there. It was weird to know that everything she saw was under the Surface. It certainly didn’t have the claustrophobic shadows she had gotten lost in.

  Finally, Persephone had led her to her rooms. They were beautiful in a completely alien way. Her rooms in Heaven had been the standard gold, white marble and golden woods. Looking back it seemed a very sterile and empty arrangement. But in this palace darkness was the dominating feature not light. A hearty fire burned in a macabre fireplace, casting its strange dancing light around the room. In Heaven most things had the delicate look, or it was made to be impressively intimidating. Things had been grand and soaring. Here there was a sense of strength, solidly built, sharp angles and even the hint of malice.

  All the furniture was made from either ebony, darkwood or wrought iron, the bathroom was stunningly all black marble. The little veins of white and the gold and silver accents stark a
nd yet beautiful at the same time. Her room despite the sense of strength and solidness held warmth something her rooms in Heaven had lacked looking back. Sure they had been bright and airy, but these rooms were sumptuously decorated with violet carpets, upholstery, bedding, and tapestries. It complimented the black so well that it gave a sense of ease to her.

  She had found it surprisingly easy to have a nap before her bath.

  She opened her eyes when she heard the bathroom doors open. Persephone walked in carrying a long black dress, which she laid across the golden backless armchair. Following her into the room were several women with very pale lilac skin and long pale grey hair. They all carried various flasks, boxes, and pots.

  “Time to get you clean little Angel” and with that said they descended on her despite her protests. They scrubbed her skin until it glowed, her hair until no more dirt came out. They rinsed her over and over until even her feathers had no dirt in them. She felt like she had been drowned in a whirlpool.

  They helped her out of the bath, once again ignoring her protests. Indeed, they seemed amused by her modesty. In Heaven, one did not see others naked unless they were married and here she was with six different women seeing her completely naked. It was beyond shameful.

  They dried her before helping her into the dress. They ignored her protests that she was perfectly able to dress herself. Her joy of being dressed was short lived, the dress was the most revealing thing she had ever worn. It was nothing like the heavy ceremonial robes of the Arch Angels. She could see not just her cleavage but ample amounts of it, one of her shoulders was completely bare and the arm it belonged to. She saw slithers of her calves and thighs, and it clung to her like a second skin. She felt highly exposed.

  They then led her to the chair and pushed her down into it. Then they started opening all the pots and boxes that sat amongst the candles. From the pots came creams and powders while from the boxes came jewellery. She watched in the mirror as they applied makeup to her face.