Chapter 29 Messanger of Elyon
As the high priest delivered his final judgment and left, the inner court once again erupted into noise. The priests argued fiercely among themselves—some against the decision, others in full support. At the order of Lord Caius, they were all dismissed from the temple grounds, for the temple was no place for such loud disputes.
Lord Tristan also left, unwilling to enter into further argument with Lord Caius. He met Griselda outside the temple, she had a nervous look on her face and sighed in relief when she saw him. She was unable to enter the temple, as she wasn't a priestess.
"Lord Tristan!" she cried.
"What is the matter?" he asked, though he already suspected it was about Evie. He still couldn't bring himself to accept the terms, knowing he had almost wiped the poor girl to death.
"It's Evie," Griselda said. "She has a very high fever and has been shivering violently since this morning. I fear she might die… she isn’t responding to any of my treatments. I tried to speak with the high priest, but… he wasn’t in the mood to listen."
A lump formed in Tristan's throat. If the girl died, it would be by his hand. He doubted he could ever forgive himself.
"Is there no skilled healer you know of?" he asked.
"Yes!" Griselda’s eyes brightened, relief washing over her. "I know a healer here in Malakh, renowned across the world. He has never failed anyone. If you can send a priest to fetch him, we have nothing to worry about. He could heal both Evie and Levi—their injuries are minor to him."
Lord Tristan listened attentively and wondered at how she mentioned Levi being treated as well—if only she knew that the girl would be sacrificed tonight.
He called a priest who was nearby and gave him orders.
"Listen to this woman and follow her instructions. She will lead you to a healer. Take a companion, bring the healer to the temple at any cost, and carry as many coins as you can."
The woman beamed with happiness and left with the priest.
Lord Tristan wandered up the mountain, lost in thought. He stood at its edge, gazing down as darkness slowly spread across the vast fields below and over the entire kingdom. But the thought of a human sacrifice still weighed heavily on him.
In his heart, he saw the end of the priests of Elyon. To carry out a human sacrifice—something he knew was not the will of the Almighty, would surely bring curses and destruction upon them all. He could not stand by and watch it happen. But how could he stop it? How could he prevent the shedding of innocent blood? If only the Almighty would appear and tell him what must be done.
Perhaps he would have to take matters into his own hands.
Lord Tristan took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, meditating for a few moments. When he opened them again, his eyes were blazing like fire. He unlocked the spiritual atmosphere, and with his blazing gaze, he could see into a realm hidden from ordinary men. The clouds shone with many flashes of thunder and lightning, and spirit entities moved through the air around him. Yet none dared approach, repelled by his divine aura
He lifted his hands toward the heavens and cried out in a language not yet known to mankind, used by prophets to communicate with angels.
"Gavri'el ben-El Elyon! Pitchu sha'arei shamayim, u-redu lefanai."
And suddenly, the sky parted into two, and a blinding light shone from heaven. As Lord Tristan gazed into the gates of heaven, he saw a being of light descending toward him, the powerful beat of its wings stirring a spiritual hurricane across the mountain.
The angel descended before Lord Tristan, folding its wings as it landed. He trembled at the terrifying sight. Its towering height dwarfed him completely, and he felt like a mere sheep in the presence of such a mighty being.
He lowered his eyes, struggling to control his shaking body and hide his fear. But it was no use—overwhelmed, he dropped to his knees and bowed, worshipping the being.
"How many times have I warned you not to bow to me? I am only a messenger of Elyon and not the one you should worship."
The mountain shook violently at the voice of the angel, and all spirit entities in that vicinity fled away.
"Forgive me," Lord Tristan cried. "But I am not as powerful and courageous as Lord Ezra, who could behold your presence and dine with heavenly beings. I am always consumed by fear because of your appearance."
Lord Tristan continued to weep for some time, expecting the angel to leave in anger, for they hated being worshipped. To his surprise, however, the being touched him with divine power, lifting him up. Tristan gazed into the angel’s face, and the fear that had gripped him vanished almost instantly.
"Do not be afraid! I am only a messenger, and I do not know the heart of Elyon regarding the matter that caused you to summon me," the angel said, speaking even before Tristan could voice his complaints. "Does it not occur to you that if I knew, I would have appeared to you and to all the priests who petitioned for hours?"
"But Lord Caius misinterpreted your words as a request to sacrifice the young priestess at the altar. That is surely against the will of the Almighty. I need you to guide me on what to do regarding this matter. Should I stop the sacrifice from being performed tonight?"
The angel lowered him to the floor as it heard his words. Its body radiated like lightning, and it raised its wings toward the sky in an attempt to lift itself.
"Do not interfere, and do not summon me again!" the angel warned. "No one knows the will of the Almighty regarding this matter—not even I… DO NOT INTERFERE!"
The mountains trembled at its voice. A bolt of light shot from the gates of heaven, moving like lightning, and struck Lord Tristan squarely in the face. He was thrown harshly to the ground. When he lifted his head to watch the angel ascend into heaven, he realized with horror that he could no longer see.
He knew that summoning angels against their will came with consequences, but he had never expected they would take his sight from him. Even though he was no longer in the spiritual dimension and had returned to his body, he still could see nothing—only darkness.
The fear that had left him returned, and panic set in as he searched for a way to return to the temple. He also knew he was close to the edge of the mountain, where a single misstep could send him plummeting, which only heightened his terror.
But then he heard footsteps approaching. "Who are you?" he asked, but received no answer. Someone wrapped their arms around him and lifted him up, carrying him away.