Chapter 45 Messanger of Elyon

Chapter 45 Messanger of Elyon
Lord Tristan wandered up the mountain, lost in thought. He stood at its edge, gazing down at the vast and beautiful kingdom stretching out before him. As his gaze traveled farther, he saw a mountainous landscape stretching endlessly along the far horizon, encircling the entire kingdom like a natural shield. This was a great advantage during times of war and invasion, as any approaching army could be spotted from miles away and slaughtered on the spot, usually by a barrage of arrows.

Malakh was the most blessed kingdom for several reasons, and many rival kingdoms had attempted time and again to claim its land, but each time, they had failed. The kingdom was virtually invincible and secluded from the rest of the world, especially since the chaos and strange occurrences beyond its borders had become increasingly terrifying. Lord Tristan could not have been more relieved knowing that those evils could never reach them.

So far, the only threat they had to contend with was the Watchers, an infamous cult of men who had been transfigured into demonic entities and were forced to continually drink the blood of the living to sustain their existence on Earth. They were incredibly powerful, but not powerful enough to challenge the kingdom of Malakh head-on, for the priests of Elyon were the greatest obstacle standing in their way.

Now, Tristan reasoned that this same priesthood was about to commit a terrible sin against their only source of protection, Elyon. If their God were angered by such an act and decided to depart from them, they would surely be doomed and left vulnerable to all the forces of evil lurking beyond their borders. Every force that had once tried to bring about the fall of Malakh would descend upon the kingdom as one.

He could not stand by and watch it happen. But how could he stop it? How could he prevent the shedding of innocent blood when Lord Caius had already convinced the people that it was the will of Elyon? If only the Almighty would appear and tell him what must be done.

Perhaps he would have to take matters into his own hands and force a communication between himself and the Messengers. Even though it would be a sin on his part and would undoubtedly have consequences.

Lord Tristan took a deep breath and closed his eyes, meditating for a few moments and shutting out every thought, feeling, and sensation in his immediate surroundings. When he opened his eyes again, they were blazing like fire. He unlocked his spiritual sight, and through his blazing gaze, he could see into a realm hidden from ordinary men.

The sky shone with flashes of thunder and lightning, while spirit entities moved through the air around him. Yet none dared approach, for they were repelled by his divine aura.

He lifted his hands toward the sky and spoke in a language unknown to mankind, a sacred tongue used by prophets to communicate with the Messengers of Elyon.

“Gavri'el, malakh El Elyon! Pitchu sha'arei shamayim, u-redu lefanai!”

Suddenly, the sky parted in two, and a blinding light poured down from above. 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 being descended before Lord Tristan and folded its wings as it landed. Tristan trembled at the terrifying sight of the creature. 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 trembling body and conceal his fear. But it was no use. Overwhelmed, he dropped to his knees and bowed before the being.

“How many times have I warned you not to bow to me? I am only a Messenger of Elyon, not the one you should worship.”

The mountain shook violently at the Messenger's voice, and every spirit entity in the vicinity fled.

“Forgive me,” Lord Tristan cried. “But I am not as powerful or 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 being to leave in anger, for the Messengers despised being worshipped. To his surprise, however, the being touched him with divine power, lifting him from the ground until he hovered in the air. He gazed into the creature's face, and the fear that had gripped him vanished almost instantly.

“Do not be afraid. I am only a Messenger. Why did you summon me?” the being asked, despite already knowing the exact reason.

Tristan could sense the anger behind the question. It was not a request for an explanation, but a reminder that he had committed a grave sin by summoning a Messenger against its will and would have to face the consequences.

“I had no choice but to do this. The priests are about to commit a terrible and irreversible sin,” Tristan pleaded.

“Does it not occur to you that if I knew the heart of Elyon regarding this matter, I would have appeared to you and to all the priests who petitioned for days?” the being thundered.

“But Lord Caius has misinterpreted your words as a command to sacrifice the young priestess, Levi, at the altar. That is surely against the will of the Almighty. I need you to guide me on what to do. Should I stop the sacrifice from being performed tonight?”

The being lowered Tristan to the ground as it listened to his words. Its body radiated like lightning, and it raised its wings toward the sky, preparing to ascend.

“Do not interfere, and do not summon me again!” it warned. “No one knows the will of the Almighty regarding this matter—not even I. DO NOT INTERFERE!” The mountains trembled at its voice.

The being was now ready to ascend, but Tristan stretched out his hands, desperate to make one final petition concerning Evie’s life, fearing that she might not survive her condition.

A bolt of light shot from the gates of heaven, moving like lightning, and struck Lord Tristan squarely in the face. He was hurled violently to the ground. When he lifted his head to watch the Messenger ascend into heaven, he realized with horror that he could no longer see.

He knew that summoning a Messenger against its will came with consequences, but he had never expected it to cost him his sight. Even though he was no longer in the spiritual realm and had returned fully to his physical body, he still could see nothing but darkness.

The fear that had left him returned, and panic set in as he searched desperately for a way back to the temple. He knew he was close to the edge of the mountain, where a single misstep could send him plummeting to his death, 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, lifted him from the ground, and carried him away.