Gods of Death

14 : Clashing Swords

The near-empty sanctuary rang with the sound of steel on steel, the four walls of the terrace bouncing the sounds back to the two beings that made them. This was once the place of the fabled Festivals of Asklepios, where men would compete in athletic games for the glory of Apollo and his son Asklepios; now it was the proving ground for Victor as he battled his third Archangel.

He was found wanting.

Gabriel's sword pierced Victor under his right arm, sliding up through his chest and exiting at the base of his neck, cutting through shoulder bone and flesh as if neither showed resistance. The angel pulled the blade out, blood cascading to the dusty floor and turned around, kneeling with head bowed in reverence.

Victor's body fell to the floor.

"Pretty poor," said Emma. She flicked at her own hair to indicate to Victor that his had taken on another sign of the Taint.

"You must go," pressed Rydia. She walked gracefully to stand at Victor's head as he struggled to his feet. The pain of death had been intense, but it was the reawakening outside the arena that made him feel nauseous. Teleportation in any form didn't sit well with him.

"I must go back," Victor appended. He stood, checked his balance and then his sword and walked back up the steps.

Gabriel still knelt. The Archangel turned his head slightly to the side to acknowledge Victor's approach, but didn't stand.

"Get up, Gabriel," Victor spat. "This only ends with your death."

Gabriel shook his head and held his sword ready before him. Victor weaved his own weapon through the air and attacked.

Blow upon blow rained upon the angel before he took the offensive and knocked Victor back in turn. Victor saw the advantage as the other's arm moved slightly out of position and struck, reaching out to cleave the limb. Gabriel snorted and rotated lithely, slicing Victor in two for his mistake.

"This is going to be really funny, isn't it!" Emma laughed. "It wasn't too long ago that you were doing this before at Stonehenge, but this is funnier."

"f**k off, Emma." Victor pulled himself to his feet.

"You must stop this," Rydia was almost pleading. "You cannot win. He has experience, and wisdom. He is an Archangel of Heaven. He is Gabriel."

"He's just a f*****g messenger," said Victor, walking towards the steps.

His third combat ended in a skewering through the gut, the fourth through his own decapitation, his fifth when Gabriel picked him from the floor after a scuffle and dropped him from a hundred metres up.

"It's getting dark," commented Emma. "Would you like us to go in and light braziers for the night?"

Victor ignored her.

"Leave," pleaded Rydia. She moved to stand before him now, her pink-petal wings spread wide.

Victor ignored her.

Darkness fell on the ninth attempt. As he walked up the stairs for the tenth, Victor paused. Gabriel's halo had diminished.

"Where's the light, messenger?" he taunted.

Gabriel stared at him, his stance patient.

"You are getting tired, aren't you? Every time you win, I come back refreshed. A little sick, I'll give you that, the relocation does my stomach in, but rejuvenated. New body you see." Victor patted his chest in emphasis. "You though, you are starting to struggle."

Victor charged, Gabriel took to the sky.

"Come down here, you f*****g p***y!"

Gabriel went to slice him in two but Victor was ready. He parried, twisted and struck back. Even in the fading light he could see the Archangel's silhouette. His sword nicked the edge of Gabriel's wing.

The Archangel screamed. It had been the first real sound he had made, and it was furious. Filled with agony and desperation, he cried out. Victor could see how the magic of his sword was working on the body of the angel, even though it had barely been a scratch. A feather, the size of Victor's arm, drifted to the floor, turning black as it fell. Another joined it.

"This is going to take time, isn't it?" Victor said, taking a step back. "I'd not even considered this, but it's going to eat you alive. One wing feather at a time."

Gabriel's face was filled with tears. Victor looked at him, straining to see.

"I can't see you," Victor whispered.

There was a flicker of cool fire as the Archangel called his halo back. It was muted, but enough to illuminate him in the dark.

"Gabriel?" Victor's voice was quiet still. He looked into the eyes of another Archangel he had killed. Not yet dead, but not surviving this.

Chamuel had offered him solace and a conversation. Jophiel had sacrificed himself for an alternative that Victor couldn't comprehend. Now Gabriel decayed silently and Victor couldn't really understand why.

"I thought you'd finish me," he admitted. "I thought this was it. There was no way I could defeat you in combat."

Gabriel lurched forward, his left wing all but gone. Victor dropped his sword and caught him.

"Why won't you speak to me?" he asked. "Why is God's messenger silent?"

The angel was heavy. Too heavy. They both fell to their knees, Victor still supporting the larger man.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know what else to do. I don't know how to get out of this."

The halo flared; a sudden burst of cold incandescence. White dust, still glowing, fell as a pile on the floor. Onto Victor's knees, his shoes, the edge of his sword.

Silently, he stood, brushed himself off, retrieved his weapon and walked down to where two others waited for him.

"Gabriel is dead," he said taking in both Rydia and Emma in a single gaze. "Can you open the portal, Emma?"

The imp nodded.

"Do it, before the three shitheads notice. I don't think we've got very long."

Emma performed the ritual with elegance. A moment later the shimmering doorway illuminated the dark. Victor walked into the gateway without looking back, Emma flapping at his shoulder.

Rydia followed them through.