Michael: Last Angel of Earth

“What do you mean you let them go!” yelled Javrumas. He arrived in Berlin to discover the whereabouts of his prey, only to find that the “new” rulers of Berlin let them leave in peace.

“They are not our enemy,” said Nascalo Pholzaebur. Thrialulkrich stood next to his friend as they listened to the Maneater’s continuous rant towards them.

“You two serve the army of darkness! Where is your loyalty!” he shouted at them. The dark elf showed the Maneater a handful of precious stones and gold coins.

“This is our loyalty. We are mercenaries, not soldiers. We work with you. We do not work for you. So I suggest you remember that, Maneater,” said the dark elf. Javrumans snarled and marched toward her, only to have an arrow pointed directly at his face and Thrialulkrich’s sword pointed at his back.

“You two dare threaten an emissary of Lucifer?” he snarled.

“Don’t kid yourself, Javrumas. You’re a mere assassin, following orders from Xathaniel,” stated Nascalo. Before he could interject, the Maneater felt the swordpoint dig into his skin a little more.

“Before you refute that statement, remember that we both served the different princes and dukes of hell. We know we serve who,” exclaimed the half-orc. Javrumas snarled and calmed himself. Gathering his thoughts, he spoke once more, this time in a more controlled fashion.

“Are they still en route to Rome?” he asked. Nacalso reported yes, but other than that, she could not say more. Javrumas groaned and left the throne room. Once he was gone, Thrialulkrich walked over to his friend.

“Do you think they will make it?” he asked her. Nascalo shrugged.

“Hard to say. I know they will need every chance if they still want to avoid Javrumas and reach their destination.”

“Not to mention trying to keep all this secret from Lucifer. Something tells me this was a mission he does not sanction, replied the half-orc. As the two discussed rebuilding Berlin better, Javruams went outside the throne room and contacted his lord and master. Appearing just as before, Javruams bowed before Xathaniel.

“Report Maneater,” he stated.

“My lord, the angel and his party have left with the valkyrie. They are still on their way to the Vatican as we speak,” replied the Maneater.

“Did that frost giant even attempt to stop them? I have to deal with him soon,” said Xathaniel.

“I’m afraid Michael already beat you to it. Now Berlin is under the control of those mercenaries Nascalo and Thrialulkrich.” Xathaniel groaned upon hearing this. He knew of those two exploits and was one of few mercenaries employed by the army of darkness with a conscience. Knowing them, their loyalty was to coin and Lucifer. The Nephilim pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I would have hoped you would have dealt with them in Berlin. The more present they are, the closer Lucifer is to discovering our plan,” said the Nephilim.

“If he does not know already,” replied Javrumas. Grunting angrily, Xathaniel told his spy not to report back unless he dealt with Michael and his companions. Javrumas promised that the former would be dealt with soon. After that, the session was over, and again Javrumas was back on the prowl. In hell, Xathaniel slumped back into his chair and rested a hand on his face. As he wondered how this day could get any worse, there was a knock on his door. Allowing entrance inside his sanctum, Xathnaiel saw a lesser demon with a message from Lucifer.

“My lord. The king of hell wishes to have an audience with you in the throne room,” said the messenger. Groaning, the imperial adviser got up and headed toward the throne room. Upon entering the room, he noticed something was off. There were fewer people around, save for one armored figure who stood next to the king. Xathaniel could not be sure, but it seemed the stranger was whispering something into the king’s ear. Stopping a few feet from the throne, he bowed before his king.

“My lord, you summoned me?” he asked. Sending the man away, Lucifer turned his attention to his teacher.

“Yes. I have been reviewing the reports from the other ministers in our provinces and states, and I have noticed that your report is missing. Care to explain?” Lucifer asked.

“Apologies, my lord. I have been busy as of late. If you would permit me, I could go and return-”

“No, I would like you to give me your report now. It shouldn’t be too difficult since nothing has changed in the world unless something did happen.” Lucifer straightened up in his chair and rested his hand softly on his gun.

“By all means, my teacher, report,” he stated. Xathaniel had to be innovative. He taught Lucifer everything he knew about lies and deception. He needed to spin the truth and lie differently for his plan to work.

“My lord, things have changed. The former prince of Egypt has begun hunting our men in Spain. Last I heard, he was hunting Ammit.” Lucifer seemed intrigued.

“Interesting. He has never shown signs of boldness before,” said the lord of hell. “What else?”

“The gargoyle Ruzla made news again with five new deaths in the papers. Her recent actions are beginning to halt our operations in the Gevaudan region.” Lucifer nodded his head and asked his teacher to continue.

“Finally, I bring troubling news from Berlin. Our resident frost giant has been killed, the former valkyrie escaped, and now two mercenaries govern in his place,” finished Xathaniel.

After giving his report, he stood silent as his master said nothing. For a moment, he believed that his ruse had worked. Then Lucifer snapped his fingers once more. From the corner of his eye, Xathaniel saw the same man as before emerging from the shadows and standing next to the king. At first, the fallen angel did not recognize the man until another person emerged from the shadows opposite the king. This one seemed older and more feminine. It took a while, but Xathaniel finally realized who the other person was and cursed under his breath.

On the other side, standing opposite the king, was a woman with brown, long layered hair hanging over a lean, tense face. Piercing gray eyes, set narrowly within their sockets, watch thoughtfully over the proceedings. Smooth skin charmingly complimented her cheeks and left a painful memory of her luck in past battles. This was the face of Morgana La Fay, Lucifer’s top mage. She stood gracefully among others, despite her athletic frame. Her noble dress flowed from top to bottom and had a sweetheart neckline, delicately revealing the elegant dress worn below it. The exquisite buttoned-up fabric of her dress covered her stomach, where the continuous flow was broken up by a thin ribbon worn relatively high around her waist. Below the ribbon, the dress opened up left and right and revealed the dress below. The front of the top dress was longer than the bottom dress and curved outwards; the back continued to flow a considerable length behind her and ended in a broad tip. Her sleeves were a little short and narrow; their flow was broken up just above the elbow, where they were divided by slender, refined bands. These were the same fabric and color used to outline the edges of the dress.

“Morgana,” he cursed under his breath.

“Hello, Xathaniel. A pleasure as always, darling,” she cooed. The grand Visher then realized that if she was here, the man standing next to the king was none other than Mordred, her son.

“You remember Mordred, Xathaniel?” asked Lucifer. The fallen angel slightly nodded his head.

“You see, my teacher, I decided to send Mordred out to do my reminiscence, and I must tell you, the information he told me was rather ... thought-provoking,” he said. “Before I sent for you, he gave me his report on the world, and after listening to yours, both tell the same story, with one slight deviation.” Lucifer then got up from his throne and walked toward his teacher. He upholstered his pistol and placed it next to Xathaniels ear. The fallen angel could hear the cocking back of the trigger so clearly. Xathaniel felt his body tense up as Lucifer leaned to one of his ears and whispered a single name in the man’s ear.

“Michael,” whispered Lucifer and then pulled back on the trigger.