caspian
03-17-2005, 16:50
I notice the light from the Palace glittering on my sword. The King must at last be holding court again.
I look up to see the city in ruins yet still shining. The streets, the houses, all show the mark of the rebellion. But the palace has borne the worst damage, half of it still blackened by the fires, the other half barely standing. No matter, the King can have it rebuilt or repaired in no time. If one the King is, it’s a builder. He loves to create and mold, bring order into the landscape, form something from nothing.
I feel a smile tugging on my lips; I remember when the Palace was built. It was so beautiful my captain said he had to be garrisoned there. He said he couldn’t bear the thought of being away from such perfection. But being the First soldier it was no surprise that his wish came true. My smile flees at the thought of my captain, the instigator of the rebellion. The most loyal subject, the one given the most, the first one after the Prince.
I still can comprehend how could he contemplate overthrowing the King? The mere thought is impossible, yet he gathered an army of followers around him. Suddenly the impossible became alarmingly probable. Maybe that is why I almost failed to stop him. I couldn’t believe he was serious, even when he was evidently recruiting me. But many did believe him. And where are they now? His followers are already exiled or locked away, comrades now gone forever.
I was not supposed to lead. I was the last soldier to bear arms against my captain. Even then I tried to reason with him, but he was far gone his path that his eyes bespoke of a desperation that drove him and his followers to raid the Palace.
I look at my sword arm. I feel it tremble as it refuses to part with the sword that defeated the captain. He was inches from the door to the throne room when I overcame him. His eyes glued to the unopened doors as he was hauled out. He gave me once last look before accepting defeat. Eyes remembering our friendship, the respect we shared, of times forever gone. Also of bitterness and loss, of the cost of his ambition and lust. And for that I do not know if I can forgive him.
Suddenly a light shot from the distance and hurled down the mountains like lightning.
I feel a sudden change; a new order of things is arriving. I feel someone behind me.
“Gabriel.” I said.
“The King’s summons, you must attend.” I hear a smile on his words.
I whirled to face someone who could smile amidst such devastation. “Something amuses you Gabriel? Or are you happy that a third of our brethren are disgraced and banished?!” I am being unreasonable I know but my grief at the loss is forming my words.
I glared at him as he became immediately contrite. “My apologies Michael,” he took a formal stance. “But you are to be named Archangel.” He cleared his throat. “I offer my congratulations, Captain.”
Archangel?! Me? My mind unable to believe what I heard. Such honor is undeserving of someone who almost lost a Kingdom! Why? But still I couldn’t forget, I had to know what happened to my captain. “What of Lucifer?”
“He’s banished to the world of men.” Gabriel looked down to the mountains searchingly. “That was him a few moments ago.” He looked at me with steel. “The King’s justice is final and swift.”
And then I remember who I serve and I’m filled with devotion to my King. The Lord of Hosts, Jehovah-Sabaoth. The Alpha and Omega. My God in Whom I trust. And then all else fades away.
I sigh and we start walking back to the Palace as Gabriel and I survey the ruined city. “Well Gabriel, do you think we can make Heaven perfect again?”
I look up to see the city in ruins yet still shining. The streets, the houses, all show the mark of the rebellion. But the palace has borne the worst damage, half of it still blackened by the fires, the other half barely standing. No matter, the King can have it rebuilt or repaired in no time. If one the King is, it’s a builder. He loves to create and mold, bring order into the landscape, form something from nothing.
I feel a smile tugging on my lips; I remember when the Palace was built. It was so beautiful my captain said he had to be garrisoned there. He said he couldn’t bear the thought of being away from such perfection. But being the First soldier it was no surprise that his wish came true. My smile flees at the thought of my captain, the instigator of the rebellion. The most loyal subject, the one given the most, the first one after the Prince.
I still can comprehend how could he contemplate overthrowing the King? The mere thought is impossible, yet he gathered an army of followers around him. Suddenly the impossible became alarmingly probable. Maybe that is why I almost failed to stop him. I couldn’t believe he was serious, even when he was evidently recruiting me. But many did believe him. And where are they now? His followers are already exiled or locked away, comrades now gone forever.
I was not supposed to lead. I was the last soldier to bear arms against my captain. Even then I tried to reason with him, but he was far gone his path that his eyes bespoke of a desperation that drove him and his followers to raid the Palace.
I look at my sword arm. I feel it tremble as it refuses to part with the sword that defeated the captain. He was inches from the door to the throne room when I overcame him. His eyes glued to the unopened doors as he was hauled out. He gave me once last look before accepting defeat. Eyes remembering our friendship, the respect we shared, of times forever gone. Also of bitterness and loss, of the cost of his ambition and lust. And for that I do not know if I can forgive him.
Suddenly a light shot from the distance and hurled down the mountains like lightning.
I feel a sudden change; a new order of things is arriving. I feel someone behind me.
“Gabriel.” I said.
“The King’s summons, you must attend.” I hear a smile on his words.
I whirled to face someone who could smile amidst such devastation. “Something amuses you Gabriel? Or are you happy that a third of our brethren are disgraced and banished?!” I am being unreasonable I know but my grief at the loss is forming my words.
I glared at him as he became immediately contrite. “My apologies Michael,” he took a formal stance. “But you are to be named Archangel.” He cleared his throat. “I offer my congratulations, Captain.”
Archangel?! Me? My mind unable to believe what I heard. Such honor is undeserving of someone who almost lost a Kingdom! Why? But still I couldn’t forget, I had to know what happened to my captain. “What of Lucifer?”
“He’s banished to the world of men.” Gabriel looked down to the mountains searchingly. “That was him a few moments ago.” He looked at me with steel. “The King’s justice is final and swift.”
And then I remember who I serve and I’m filled with devotion to my King. The Lord of Hosts, Jehovah-Sabaoth. The Alpha and Omega. My God in Whom I trust. And then all else fades away.
I sigh and we start walking back to the Palace as Gabriel and I survey the ruined city. “Well Gabriel, do you think we can make Heaven perfect again?”