Hammer of the Gods

Chapter 29

Satan leaned forward and began to reach for his prize as he willed the ancient book towards the archangel before him.

Grasping the enchanted tomb with his free hand, Odin dropped his eye into the well before the cherub could grasp it.

The waters remained calm.

A terrible pause ensued, as both powerful beings stared at one another.

But the Devil was not in a position to physically challenge his brother at this time. Finally, he smiled at his twin, “No matter, I will retrieve it on the morrow. It is well,” He said, making a dismissive gesture.

Odin cut a strip off his cloak and stuffed it into the socket and wrapped a strip of cloth around his head to hold the bandage in place.

Satan now motioned towards a golden drinking horn which sat upon a pedestal on one side of the well. The chalice was covered in heavenly symbols.

“Drink, Sandalphon,” The Devil said, as he motioned the horn to glide through the air.

Odin grasped the cup and dipped it into the well. Appearing somewhat suspicious, he smelled the water, and stared within for a moment before drinking the contents.

Peace and clarity of mind descended over him, any suspicions he had harbored, seemed to have vanished in the euphoria that he now felt. The water from the well eased the pain from his missing eye. Dipping the horn two more times, he drank the sacred water again and again.

“Very well Mimir, enjoy my eye for now, but surely I possess something else of value whereby I may barter with you for its return?” Odin asked.

“We shall see, we shall see. Fare thee well. I shall watch thy realm from afar now and my time in the garden will be filled with a new knowledge of the activities in heaven and earth. Return when thou bringest something of great value for my consideration,” Satan said.

“Very well, Mimir, but before I go, I shall dip my spear in the holy waters. Perhaps it will strengthen it against evil,” Odin said.

“The Devil, in cherub form, grasped the arms of the great chair tightly as his twin returned with his trident. Lucifer struggled to maintain his appearance under the stress. As his brother walked to the front of the cavern, Satan’s illusion began to shimmer and for a moment, it appeared that his deception would be revealed. Fortunately for him, the illumination beneath the tree is subdued and Odin was some distance away before he returned.

Striding back, Odin stood before the crystal circle.

“Perhaps the draughts from the horn have already begun to bestow further wisdom upon me, for I feel almost compelled to submerse the spear in the waters?”

Odin held his weapon before him vertically and released it. It hovered over the center of the well for a moment, its sharp tips facing upward. Asgard’s King made a downward motion with one hand and the spear descended slowly beneath the calm water.

“The illusion of Mimir appeared a bit impatient.

“Summoning his trident, it rose once more from the depths and hovered above the top of the pool. Odin caused the spear to turn end-over-end slowly, observing its glimmering, smooth surface.

“Satan stiffened as the points of the weapon faced him for a moment.

“When the trident was vertical once again, Odin summoned it to his outstretched hand. Ever after, its golden finish had the appearance of running water. A rune now shown upon the shaft, glowing white. This emblem was later adopted in many parts of Asgard. The symbol was the Triple Horn of Odin, (2) which is three interlocking drinking horns, representing the three draughts he made from the well. Gungnir was indeed a bane to the undead thereafter, and they could not touch its surface without being severely burned.

Satan made a long exhale as he released the arms of his chair as his twin turned with his book and spear and walked out of the Garden of Eden.

Asgard’s King, learned to his dismay, that by willfully giving up his eye, that he had lost his ability to transfigure, fly or teleport. Long he wandered, accompanied by his wolves and crows, before finding Slepnir, his flying steed.

After he was certain that Odin had left, Satan used his own dark spear to send a flash of red light above the garden as a signal to his minions to meet him as close to the entrance as they dared. He was so weak by the time his brother wandered away from the gate that he had to crawl upon his belly, dragging his weapon with one hand. He slithered towards the exit, like the serpent which he had possessed all those ages ago who tempted Eve. Cursing Mimir, he made his way slowly across the green grass.

The lions, bears and other creatures of the garden growled, as they bore their teeth at the Prince of Darkness. But even maimed and weak as he was, they were no match for a Son of the Morning. As his hateful gaze fell upon the immortal creatures they retreated to the safety of the forests until his departure.

When he finally made it beyond the hedge, his priests lifted him, and carried him to an ancient temple that rested in a valley not many leagues distant. Ancient, stone pillars supported a damaged domed roof high above. Grey, gargoyle statues surrounded the grounds facing outwards like evil sentinels. No sounds of bird or beast broke the eerie silence of this place. The air was stale and stagnant. It was as if the breeze that had caressed the garden passed this cursed place by, wishing not to befoul itself in the reek. Festering marshes surrounded the lands nearby, infested by insects and creatures which crept, stalked and slithered, but even these, kept their distance from the temple.

Where the light penetrated broken windows and the hole in the worn roof, one could see that there were nine massive pillars that reached from floor to ceiling. Great chains were affixed to the ground and to the beams high above. The black links were connected upon one end to iron manacles, which were so large, that one of the priests might pass through one easily. They appeared as if created to restrain giants, and truly they were, for they had bound the nine, fallen cherubim, long ago. Here it was, that they were tortured, and transformed into the dragons of fire.”

“Excuse me Raphael,” Jonah interrupted and the vision dissolved. The small party of mortals blinked, looking around, as if awakening from a dream.

“Yes Jonah?”

“What is significant about this temple? I mean why would a place of such evil be so near the sacred garden and the Tree of Life?” Jonah asked.

“The land upon which the shrine was built, was the ground where Able was slain by Cain. It was there, that Father cursed the earth, and Satan, being aware of what transpired there, built the temple, tapping into the power which dwells there still. Using his own might, he harnessed the curse and slowly changed the fallen cherubim. Bound to his will, he sought to make them more powerful still, and so the dragons were born.

“Let us continue, for it grows late, and there is much left to tell,” Raphael said, as he waved one hand in the air, and the group was caught up in the vision once more.

There it was, in the Temple of the Fallen, that the Devil was placed atop an altar which was worn through the eons of time. Though it once appeared as white marble upon a field of nigrous grime, it now was stained deep by the blood of sacrifices from ages past. Wicked runes were carved upon its rough surface. The black walls and dusky floors of this unholy shrine mimicked the prisons of the damned, where the Devil was wont to frequent.

Normally, if an angelic being had lost a limb it would regrow in time, but due to Mimir’s curse, Satan’s legs would not heal. But once only can such power be used with a talisman such as the one that the cherub had made. Its power could not be undone, for the Devil’s lower legs were destroyed in the waters of the well.

The vision shimmered as Angelica and her friends were taken farther back in the history of the world. They saw Adam and Eve, who were beautiful, tall and strong, as were all the patriarchs and matriarchs of mortals in the early days before the Flood. For their countenances had but recently fallen, and their bodies were but newly tarnished by the mortal fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Their path to physical death was a slow one, for of all of the trees of the garden, only the Tree of Knowledge was doomed to die as was any immortal who partook of its fruit.

Mimir, guarding the gates of diamond with his flaming sword, looked down upon the sires of humans as they made their way down from the summit until they found refuge in the Cave of Treasures not far below the garden. Later, the mighty, winged giant could be seen reading in his books. For a time, it appeared as if he sat pondering what he had studied. Taking his sword, he summoned its eternal flame and cut a small piece of crystal from the wall of the well. The stone hovered in the air before him. Extending one hand over the gem, he began to chant in the angelic tongue. For long years of men he stood transfixed as he put forth some of his power into the talisman. Foreseeing the need of such a device, he hid within its faceted form a force which could be harnessed in greatest need, but only once, for the vessel would be destroyed in its use.

The archangel Raphael explained, “This was in the first age, when the hosts that had fallen from heaven, save Lucifer, were in the angelic sleep. It was a time of peace in the dawn of the world. The power within the stone was not unlike the carbunculi which lie before you. Yet these, which Gabriel and I have given you, are limited in only producing light, and they required little time or strength to create, and so they can be reused without damage to their forms. The more powerful the being which sets their will upon a stone and the longer time in which they focus their might, the stronger can such a talisman become, yet its maker will be made weaker in the process for awhile, which may put them at risk until their life-force is renewed.”

The vision blurred again, and they stood within the old temple. Satan could be seen lying upon the altar.

“Which of you hath devotion enough, to sacrifice yourself for your master?” Satan asked his accolades.

One thin, bald man, covered in tattoos and body piercings volunteered. This zealot had spent his life seeking the favor of the Devil. But Satan has no loyalties beyond ones ability to serve his purposes and further his power.

His fellows held him down whilst another, taking up the Devil’s sword, severed the old man’s lower legs with a crunch of bones and the sound of steel on stone.

A smile crept across the face of the fallen archangel as his dying priest screamed.

“Master, I have always served thee. Save me now,” he cried out as his blood flowed into the channels of carved runes upon the floor.

“You have your reward…you know, I cannot even recall your name, but I shall visit thee in the Halls of Torment.

The old man’s hand dropped to the floor as his yes rolled back into his head and his spirit fled.

Aligning the bloodied stumps of the severed legs with the remnants of the Devil’s, the remaining servants backed away and began a deep chant while kneeling and bowing before the altar.