Fallen Angel

Chapter 31.2

Michael lay doubled over on the ground. The feeling of a thousand knives piercing him all at once had caught him by surprise, forcing him down. But the pain he felt wasn't his own. It wasn't his body that bled. He sensed it coming from deep within him. Someone who possessed angel blood was in severe danger. Or many someones. They were being beaten, cut, burned, bitten... murdered.
The sensation overwhelmed Michael. Tears stung his eyes as he tried to pick himself up. Sheer pain pushed him back down. A tiny hand tenderly rubbed Michael's temple. He heard the faint voice of a little girl.

"It's okay." Eve stroked his hair. "Pappa is going to help them. He'll save them."

"Wh-What is... happening?" Michael choked on his words.

"The bad souls and monsters are attacking the angel warriors on Earth. They are in a big castle near a river. You are there too."

The Castel Sant' Angelo? The Nephilim...

"I-I have to... I need to... help."

"There is nothing you can do, Michael," spoke another voice. "Not from here."

Through his watery eyes, Michael saw a female shape walking toward them. He made out her sombre grey dress, dark skin, and wavy white hair framing her beautiful diamond-shaped face. Azrael knelt down and placed Michael's head into her lap. Eve moved to sit beside her, but kept her right hand on Michael's shoulder. Their presence comforted him beyond measure. The pain lessened, and he breathed easier.

"Many Nephilim died," said Azrael, her eyes resting on Michael's face. "A few angels too. Lucifer provided the witches in the Circles all they required to break through the guards and charms placed on the Castel. Gabriël is on his way as we speak."

"N-No! G-Gabriël is... n-not a warrior. He will... die!"

"Have faith in him, Michael. You were right to choose him as your replacement. I have never seen such a resolve in him. Have faith."

***

They descended upon the demons with the might of all the Heavens. Hundreds of warriors from the Vale had followed Gabriël into battle, not knowing what to expect or if they would make it out again. The Castel was overrun with all the monsters the Circles could spit out in a single night. Many had already died at the hands of the Nephilim, but there were still many more. It was time to take back their stronghold and show the darkness that the light could not be snuffed out so easily.
With a mighty beat of his wings, Gabriël blew away the beasts clawing at Thomas Wyatt. The mage appeared to have shielded his vital parts with an incantation but bled heavily. His skin was already changing colour, dying from poison. Almost every part of his body had been bitten by those filthy creatures.
Vlad Tepes, who had returned to the Castel Sant' Angelo through a portal Peter conjured, rushed to Gabriël's side to help him with the wounded Nephilim. Gabriël noticed the decapitated body of one of Joan's old army comrades.  

"Your doing?" he asked Tepes as he gestured to the sword sticking between the Frenchman's legs.

"I wish." Tepes sneered at the wide, bulgy eyes protruded from de Rais' head. "Sir Wyatt gave that raping mongrel right what he deserved. Here, I will take him."

"You can't manage on your own."

"He is not alone."

Richard the Lionheart appeared out of the crowd, covered in blood. He put Thomas' arm over his shoulder, dropping the surgical blade in his hand. Gabriël glanced at it, silently wondering if that was whose he believed it was.