Chapter 1
“It’s Friday, the most celebrated day in the week!” Helena yelled, slashing a three-horned demon to punctuate her statement.
“Of the week, Hel, of the week!” roared Priamos, stabbing a scaly being in the face and whirling to punch another in the throat.
“Now is not the time for an English lesson guys: focus!” Mamnenge called out, shooting fiery arrows from atop her winged horse, Za.
What had started out as a small demon outbreak in the village of Abinse had turned into an all-out battle between the Most Highs angels and the demonic beings of the Deep, one of Lucifer’s seven dark realms. There had been no time to ask the sentinels what had made the demons come there, nor to find out why so many of them had appeared to fight: the Most High loved His humans above all, and they needed protecting. So the angels protected first and asked questions later.
As commander of the Gideon squad, Mamnenge had seen her share of battle. And every time, when they got down to the root of it, it was these same humans the Most High loved so much that were the cause of it all. She wouldn’t be surprised if, after the fighting ended, they discovered that a covetous girl somewhere struck a deal with a demon and brought this carnage down on her poor village.
Priamos dusted the last demon, a thing so ugly, Mamnenge couldn’t find the words to describe it, then flew over to her.
“Report,” she ordered.
Priamos paused for a while, then spoke. “Three humans dead, one of them a male of 17, who summoned the demon Lust to help him get a girl he liked, who did not like him at all, but fancied another boy.”
Mamnenge closed her eyes in annoyance. Of course, that was the reason!
“All demons have been destroyed: none were allowed to flee.”
“And we dusted over 500 of those beasts. But the next time someone goes down to the Deep, those evil creatures will be double what they lost here!” Helena said, exasperated.
“Hm. Good job, everyone, I will report to the Most High. The Sentinels and Serenades will take over from here. Enjoy the weekend,” and Mamnenge flew off into the clouds.
Heaven was one realm that looked different to everybody. To a lot of humans, it was surrounded by a fence of clouds and entered through a pearly gate: and that was what it was, to them. Even the angels conceptualized it differently, the place looking like what their best version of Heaven would be. To Mamnenge, Heaven was a peaceful realm, with flora and fauna aplenty, and practical buildings made of obsidian inlaid with gems of various kinds.
Where the Most High dwelled, though, was always the same to everyone, though it changed every day of the week. Today, being Friday, the road leading to the Most High’s dwelling was solid gold, Cherubs lined the path with harps and flutes, playing soft, cheerful tunes. There was no gate: the gold path split around a large fountain and went in four directions. Mamnenge stopped at the fountain, a true work of art depicting several marble-white doves in various stages of flight, and got off her flying horse. Za bent her head to drink from the fountain, and Mamnenge strode off the path directly behind the fountain.
Trees laden with fruit and sweet-smelling flowers grew here and there, and Mamnenge could smell roasted meat, cooking herbs, and the sounds of happiness and enjoyment. When the Most High threw a party, He really threw a party.
She headed toward the smells and the sounds, passing through an orange orchard, then stopped just as she passed the last orange tree. The Most High was there, plucking oranges for a gaggle of children, patiently answering all the questions they threw at Him. Mamnenge waited, aware that He knew she was there. After sending the children off with their fruit, He turned to her, smiling warmly. She bowed.
“My trusty commander, I believe you have something… pressing, you want to say to me,” He said. The Most High also appeared differently to everyone, depending on what way they needed Him at the moment. Mamnenge saw a tall, older man, dark-skinned and iron grey-haired, dressed in white pants and shirt, with a cloak over it all, His feet encased in white sandals.
“Yes, Lord. The humans are safe; the demons were destroyed.”
“Well done,” He said, then remained quiet, as though waiting for her to continue.
“But You already knew that,” she said. He inclined His head, still smiling.
“It is good that you come and tell Me; accountability is a true sign of a great steward. But, that is not what you want to tell me.” An air of patient expectancy hung around them. She could see the people partying, celebrating the end of the week. She thought she saw the two innocents who had died in the battle, laughing with the rest of them, the cares of the earth long since forgotten.
She looked back at Him.
“Why do You care for them so much? What makes them so special, that You’ve made them in Your image, imbued them with Your essence, stand guard over them night and day, always hoping that they will choose to come to You and not the darkness?”
He regarded her quietly, then turned.
“Walk with me, commander.”
