"How bad is it?" Agate asked immediately Olivine appeared in their midst. He was seated on the grass, his back against a tree trunk as he sharpened his sword with a round glowing stone. The silver weapon sizzled as the small rock glided across its sharp edges.
"Set in stone." Olivine pushed her hood back and took in her surroundings with a glance. Green as far as the eyes could see. It was a grass plane off the coast of the Euphrates river, far away from Israel and a good spot to hold their much-needed meeting.
"I sensed this. Let me see." Garnet nodded at the scroll in Olivine's hand. The message it contained was straightforward but some part of it was veiled, only Agate would be able to read it, seeing that he was a lead warring angel.
After passing the scroll to Garnet, Olivine sat and stared at her hands. As she flexed her fingers and observed the strip of leather that coiled around her palms to her elbows, her mind worked around the information the scroll held. Signa had spoken the truth, a horde was coming--terrible things were coming. And the people were blissfully unaware, in fact, their nonchalance was the reason the kingdom was on the brink of making a straight dive to darkness.
When Garnet read the content of the scroll, he grunted and tossed it to Agate. The brooding angel caught it smartly then began reading. At a point, he glanced in Olivine's direction. She could have sworn she saw sorrow flash in his eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.
Agate stood and rolled the paper back in place. The scroll vanishing with a wink of light. "Olivine..." He beckoned to her and allowed an actual smile to touch his lips. "You'd be heading to Jerusalem. Hope your friend-making skills aren't rusty?"
***
"I cannot do it." Jireh gulped. He stared at the imposing structure of the temple as he warred with himself. Why was he terrified?
"You can and you will." Issachar retorted as he turned to his loaded wagon. Before they reached the capital of Judah, Issachar had stopped at the timber port at the shores of Jordan to buy the 'finest cuts' of acacia wood. He had spent quite a sum; the sculpting business treated him well.
When they camped the night before, Issachar had discussed with Jireh on how he should come to his workshop and learn a little. He said he needed a real livelihood since his previous one tried to kill him. Issachar had laughed out loud. Jireh welcomed the idea of a new job but not the joke.
"Stop it, I'm not laughing," Jireh said with mild irritation that night.
"Sorry twig." Issachar bumped his shoulder, a light chuckle making his eyes shine.
"Don't call me that either."
A low hum was all Issachar managed as he prodded the flames with a stick. When he spoke, his voice was sober and heavy. "I counted twenty-eight--twenty-eight people dying in the same horrifying manner. Once I was close to storming one of those stupid worship places and dragging you out. Can you imagine that?" His laughter was dry and dead. "When father told us you had survived, Hannah cried. She said she had been praying for you." A heavy sigh made his shoulders sag. "You could have died. Do you understand how lucky you are?"
"I understand, believe me, I do." Jireh sighed too as he stared into the flames. The night of his near-death experience was still a blur, sketchy memories of him walking as though he knew exactly where he was headed. Had fear clouded his mind? Did he fight?
"I'm glad you didn't die," Issachar said, his eyes still fixed on the flame.
Jireh remembered feeling touched by his heartfelt words.
"I can't be a Nazirite." Jireh pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders and shook off the memory of the previous night. The cool morning breeze pushed his hair over his eyes--hair that he would swear never to cut until the time his vow was over.
"Stop being such a babe about it. You need help and this is the only logical one father came up with. Go quickly and get it done. I am in dire need of a new apprentice, about four had quit in the past year. I wonder why." Issachar chucked Jireh's leather satchel at him, a broad grin on his face. "Just do what you must. I'll be back by noon."
Before Jireh could say a word in protest, Issachar was already hurling his huge frame atop the wagon and snapping at the donkeys.
Jireh stared after him and fought the urge to race after the wagon. His heart thudded. A rapidly growing part of him was fighting his decision to take the vow, yet another part begged him to bound to the temple and seek help.
Jerusalem is big. You can make it here. Set up a small stand at the corner.
Yes, you burned the books but not the knowledge. You can still use the power of Dahw.
You need the money. You need the pow--
"Blessings."
Jireh stiffened. Looking about, he sought out who spoke.
"Over here."
He looked down, frowning at a girl he was almost certain wasn't there a moment ago. She was standing to his right and looked about ten years old? He wasn't sure. The dark brown hooded robe she wore hung over a cream inner garment, and she was barefoot.
"Are you here for the Nazirite vow?"
"Err..."
That voice. It sounded so familiar.
"I am sure you are." The girl answered her own question as she pushed back her hood. Her hair was a dull red shade and her robe appeared worn, other than that she looked quite clean for a street child. Her face wasn't dirty, it was round and held the greenest eyes Jireh had ever seen. She smiled up at him and jerked her head towards the huge doors of the temple. "Go in and do it. Or you don't want to?"
"I-I plan to." It still rang in his mind, her voice. He felt as though he had met the girl before. She even looked familiar. "This feels unusual."
"Why?" She grabbed a hold of his hand without his permission and led him up the stairs of the temple. Jireh found himself following behind, hurrying to catch up with her quick steps.
"I do not know."
"Maybe it's the vow. You are nervous, eh?" She let go of his hand as they both stopped halfway. Since it was the early hours of the morning, the front of the temple was quite deserted. Apart from a few Levites and a handful of temple female servants, Jireh had spotted no one coming for sacrifices or offerings.
"I am not nervous."
The girl looked at him as though she knew he was lying. Jireh was tempted to tell her to look away but he fought the urge. "Have you no parents?"
Her short curls bounced as she shook her head. "But I have brothers. They are in Samaria. I heard you talk of returning to Samaria with that huge man that drove away. Can I ride with you?" She begged with big green eyes.
"What are you doing in faraway Jerusalem? How did you get here?" He asked, concerned for her safety. The streets of Jerusalem were not the safest. He had heard enough to worry about her. Was she one of those street thieves? He hugged his leather satchel tighter.
"It's a long story. I just really need a ride back. I promise I wouldn't be any trouble. I'd even bring my own food." She dug her hand into a worn-out haversack and pulled out mouldy bread. "See?" The smile she wore made one appear on Jireh's lips. A sense of fondness flooded him.
"If I see you when I'm done, I would take you along."
"Oh, thank you. Blessings!" She moved to hug him, but Jireh was quick to step away. Her hands fell to her sides and she bounced on her feet instead. She didn't seem the least bit offended that he blatantly avoided her hug. "I promise I'd be waiting."
As Jireh made his way to the imposing structure before him, the hairs at the back of his neck rose.
Someone malevolent was watching him.
***
"Little, little light. It seems you are all alone." The stench of the demon hit her even before he landed inches away from her face. "What are you, his guardian angel?"
"Signa!" Olivine greeted him with exaggerated cheer. She had sensed their presence from the moment she appeared at the temple. "I see you brought yourselves along." Her gaze swept over the fifteen-plus identical demons that formed a semicircle around her. She was the lamb and, in their little demented minds, they were the lions. The spawns had made their appearance at the pathway that led the gates of the temple; the people brushed past the tense gathering, unaware of their presence.
"I find it annoying, really I do, when your kind constantly interferes with what is ours."
Olivine chuffed as she buried her hands deep in the pockets of her robe, her leather bands sizzling and humming against her skin. "Can you ever come up with an original line? Interfere with what is ours. Pfft. You keep saying that all the time." Smiling up at Signa, Olivine's gaze held a challenge. "I do not intend to stay away just as you do not intend to do the same, so... get out of my way."
Puffing a cloud of black smoke in her face, Signa pulled out a blade. He brandished the red hot weapon before her. "As you can see, I have company. We are not quite at the same level as we were the last time we met."
"I beg you, make a swipe at me. Go on." She maintained a straight face, her fingers twitching in her pockets.
They locked gaze; glowing amber orbs clashed with sparkling green. A sudden smile appeared on Olivine's lips, it morphed into a grin as her eyes twinkled like she knew something Signa didn't.
"What?" The demon bit out at the same moment his weapon vanished.
"I feel sorry for you, really I do. Do you know he just walked in there to take the Nazirite vow?"
Signa's stumbled back, eyes wide with disbelief. "No."
"Oh, yes." Olivine's grin had turned smug. "You were too slow. Almost feel sorry for you."
Signa turned from her, shoulders rising and falling in time with his laboured breaths. Olivine remained alert. He would want to lash at something to vent his frustration. And it took little to sum up who the unfortunate being would be.
"No, no. NO!" He darted from the spot in a blink. His clawed hands gripped her neck and slammed her to the ground. "This is your fault!" He shouted, applying more pressure as his talons sank into her.
"Maybe you shouldn't have chosen him in the first place." Olivine wheezed at the same moment she pulled her hands from her pockets. Her punch was swift and precise. Judging from the roar of pain that tore through the demon, the hit did sizable damage.
The blow had been to the side of his torso, breaking a few ribs with the impact. Despite her effective strike, Signa refused to let go, if anything, the pain of her attack caused him to tighten his hold by reflex. If she did not act fast, his minions would descend on her.
Olivine's fists glowed as she gripped the arms that held her down. At her touch, his skin burned. The leather had taken a golden bright shine that glowed brighter the more she held on. When Signa attempted to snatch his hands away, Olivine followed his movement. Once her neck was free, she shot off the ground, pulling the demon along on her way up.
"You shouldn't have touched me." Still holding on, Olivine swung Signa over a shoulder then flung him to the ground with a shout. He crashed into the paved path, skidding and tumbling across the ground like a ragdoll.
From her peripheral vision, she glimpsed a number of demons close in. One grabbed at her robe, pulling it off her shoulder in the process.
"Thanks for the help." She smirked and reached for her halo. Garnet would have loved it here, fighting by her side and laughing all the while.
Her ring of light sliced through the first demon in her reach. He was gone in a burst of smoke and red sparks. Two others descended on her, attempting to push her to the earth with their weight. Talons sunk into her calf as another grabbed at her ankle, forming a dead weight. Then they crowded in, clawing, punching, and even biting.
"YOU FILTH!" Her voice rose over the frenzy. Rage flashed through her small frame as she allowed a little glory shine through. The white light exploded around her, momentarily blinding her assailants.
When Olivine punched the first demon, her fist burst through his chest, spilling black on its way out. There was a shriek before he burst into nothing. She grabbed the next by his face, her touch burning grey skin as she slashed his neck with one blazing halo. His head disintegrated as she flung it at another demon.
She moved fast, pulling and slitting any demon her hand grabbed. And the one still hanging from her calf, she snatched by the wings and threw to the earth with all her might. Shooting after him with a halo ready to strike, the force of her landing finished him off before her blade could.
When she straightened, her short red hair moved like a fiery storm around her face. Turning, her gaze searched out Signa. The demon had crawled to a corner, his back pressed against an abandoned wagon.
"Enough. I give..." Signa managed to say. Black blood leaked from his side in a slow flow, and there were burn marks on his arms. "But know that you are wasting your time. Baal and Ashera will still come. They will take over the principa--"
"And you think I'm not aware of that?" Olivine cut in, a fierce scowl at her brow.
"Fine!" Signa rose to his feet, stumbling as he held his side. "One of these days, your cronies wouldn't be there to help you and you will be cut down." With a weak flap of his wings, he was gone, along with what was left of his cronies.
As Olivine's wounds closed up, her mind lingered on the parting words of the demon. She squeezed her fists, observing the glowing strips of leather as they returned to their normal brown colour. The look of sorrow on Agate's face flashed before her eyes. The lead angel wasn't telling her something.
_________________________________________
Hey guys!
Longest chapter ever. Phew!
Who loves Olivine? I do! 😄
And...what do you think of the fight scene? Was it clear enough in your mind eye? Let me know, please. Feedback is so precious to me you wouldn't believe it.
And before I forget, Baal is joining the party in the next chapter. Aha. 😏
Later folks. ❤