Gadreel raised his sword of cerulean fire high above his head. He tightened his hands around the hilt as he prepared to strike the final blow. Time passed as he held still above his injured brother as the fighting around them roared to deafening heights.
“Strike down the Fallen,” roared Michael from somewhere nearby.
Gadreel looked up. All around him was death.
Simi, he thought as his gaze fell on Gabriel who just took Simi’s head with his own sword of fire.
“Erase them from the Heavens,” Gabriel cried out as he walked past the rolling head of their brethren with no regard.
Gadreel hands loosened around the hilt of his sword but when Gabriel met his gaze, he tightened his fingers again as he turned to look back down at Dantanian. The fallen angel was weak and wounded at Gadreel’s feet.
With one quick swing, Dantanian’s head would be separated from his body. Dantanian would be no more.
Why didn’t he escape to the desolate place with Lucifer and the others? Did he think his disobedience would be forgiven? Do he and the others not understand that our Father’s forgiveness is solely designed for his favored, the humans.
“Finish it, Gadreel,” Dantanian said as he coughed. Low light shined through the deep wounds in his chest and side.
Gadreel furrowed his brows as he flared his fingers out then regripped his sword. He’d bested his brother but searching inside himself, he could not find the desire to kill Dantanian. He knew the Fallen were wrong to question their Lord. They were not fit for the heavens. Yet, Gadreel didn’t think death was a suitable response.
Isn’t my questioning and hesitancy to carry out the orders given to me by my superiors just as unlawful? Is the penalty death?
Gadreel looked around. Headless bodies strewed the once pristine replica of the Garden of Eden landscape. It was once a place of peace and reflection. Now it will forever be marred by death and fratricide.
When his weary eyes met Gabriel’s, Gadreel saw the questions mounting in his commander’s eyes. He saw when Gabriel’s gaze hardened with resolve. He actually felt fear ripple through him when Gabriel’s lips thinned as he started toward them.
With a hint of a thought, the flame that encompassed Gadreel’s sword rescinded. A flick of his hand and the sword disappeared into the ether only to return when he needed it.
Moving as fast as he could, Gadreel whipped his robe out of the way, bent and lifted Dantanian over his shoulder, and made for the Pool of Province.
He risked his very existence as he ran with Dantanian in tow. Gadreel heard the calls to halt his progress. He dodged the expertly aimed daggers and arrows of his brethren who tried to stop him. To his surprise, some of the judged, the Fallen, stepped in front of some of the blows aimed at him and Dantanian.
As Gadreel jumped over the bodies of Fallen and Devoted, he knew that he would never again step foot in the Heavens. That once he jumped into the Pool of Province, a reflective gateway that allowed Angels to observe humans and crossover to the earth, without permission that the ability to cross back over or to any plain from this moment forth will be forever revoked.
“Noooo,” Dantanian cried out.
“It is the only way to save you,” Gadreel said as he ran up the stairs to the great pool. Something hit his back, causing him to stumble forward. Dantanian’s body fell forward, hitting the tepid pool first. Gadreel followed, sighing as the water that wasn’t wet covered him from head to toe.
Gadreel didn’t have to call out for his wings to expand. His large white feathered wings flared out instinctively to slow his descent from the heavens.
Scanning the sky, Gadreel searched for his brother but what he saw wasn’t an Angel soaring through the darkening skies. What he saw was a smoking body tumble rolling toward the earth. Gadreel positioned his wings back to dive but suddenly felt an intense debilitating pain with the movement.
Gadreel cried out as he pumped his smoking wings long enough to see that they were ablaze. There was only one thing to do. He dived toward Dantanian, tucking his wings back. When he slammed into his unconscious brother, Gadreel shook off the pain and extended his burning wings to slow them before slamming into the ocean.
A Look Into Binding of the Halo 1
Setting: Abandoned School
Cianne did her best to resist being pulled out of her cell when Cook grabbed her hand. He barely allowed her the time to grab the mini flashlight she dropped.
“Tristan is coming for me.”
Cook managed to get her halfway out of the doorway, but with one properly timed yank, she managed to pull free and retreat a few feet back into the room only to have him grab her wrist again.
“We need to go. Please,” Cook said, as he desperately pulled her along. “They’ll be here any minute.”
“I can’t leave. Tristan is coming for me!” she screamed, as she continued trying to free herself.
“If I were him I would want you safe.” He looked at her with pleading eyes that shadowed some emotion she couldn’t read. “He would want you and the baby safe.”
The sound of a vehicle screeching to an abrupt stop made both of them jump and turn to the door. Cook quickly pulled her out of the room and down a long litter-filled hallway. They passed a row of broken down lockers and a few boarded-up windows along the way.
It’s a school, Cianne thought as she was pulled into a midsized room that looked like it was probably her captors’ base camp. She shadowed Cook as he ran to a boarded-up window on the far side of the old classroom and peeked through a space between the boards.
“They’re here.” He grabbed Cianne’s hand again and pulled her back into the hallway. “I need to get you to the bottom floor and out of the building. We’re going to have to use the back stairs,” he said, so quietly that she knew he was talking to himself.
Cianne could tell from the way he sounded that he really didn’t want to use the back stairs. She realized that they were in real danger but she wondered what was the issue with the stairs.
As she kept pace with Cook, she couldn’t stop wondering what happened to Tristan.
Cook was fast, and when he pulled her around a corner she stumbled, making her focus on what was happening with her. He slowed enough to allow her to right herself then returned to his quick pace.
His flashlight was bright and spanned wide enough for them to see a good deal in front of them. They whizzed by classroom after classroom, hurdled over debris and avoided anything that would slow them down. Resisting was no longer on Cianne’s mind. Getting out of this so she could get to Tristan drove her now.
When they made their way to the stairwell, Cook allowed her to stop to catch her breath before he pulled open the door that was barely hanging on two hinges. Debris, a strong stench, and filth filled what was visible of the stairs.
Cianne looked down the dark stairwell with only his flashlight as a beacon to guide them and felt a chill run through her. There was no way to tell how many flights there were to the bottom floor but she knew there was freedom beyond the darkness. Cianne pushed her shoulders back then looked at Cook. He looked back at her. The expression on his face scared her more than the thought of what they had to do. He squeezed her hand then let it go as they made their way down.
Cook went first, with her close behind. Cianne slipped a couple of times but Cook was there to steady her with a firm grip when she needed it. When they reached the bottom of the first flight, Cianne felt as if it hadn’t been that hard. That gave her the confidence she needed to get down the next two darkened flights.
Just as she mentally patted herself on the back, a faint noise reached her ears. “Did you hear that?” Cianne questioned, then stopped.
She looked down at Cook who stopped just as she had. Her eyes squinted into the darkness that lay before them, beyond the range of his light. With them stopped, Cianne heard the sound clearer. She had no idea what it was but it sounded like it was getting closer.
“Go back,” Cook whispered.
Cianne turned halfway around and was just about to take a step back over a small metal trashcan when she felt Cook’s hand on her leg. Cianne turned her head and looked down at him. But he was focused on something down the stairs. She followed the direction of his gaze. She had to suck in a gasp of fear when her eyes focused.
“Back up, slowly,” Cook whispered. He gave her leg a slight nudge.
Cianne couldn’t move. She was frozen with fear as she peered at the scraggly dog that looked up at them from a half a flight down. The dog’s eyes, shadowed by dirty matted hair, glowed as they bore into them. Its lips were tight and pulled back, revealing pink and black gums with sharp teeth that could be clearly seen with the flashlight in the dark stairwell.
The hound watched them for a few seconds before its growl echoed through the hollowed space between them. Cook gently pushed at her leg again. Cianne carefully began to take a slow step up when another dog came up behind the first.
“Run!” Cook yelled.
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