The Angelic Conflict (Extended Published Version)

Untitled Part 19

THE ANGEL wipes off the red smoke misting from the corner of its mouth as it watches Nabelēh finally fly away. It sheathes its sword, bending over, holding its knees, panting. It closes its eyes and exhales lengthily.

"Who are you and what is your business here?" a voice says.

The angel almost starts at the voice, reclaiming its grip on its sword. It turns around and finds five demons approaching it. They wear identical garments: black tunics extending past their knees. None of them has wings. The one that seems to have spoken. The one that seems to be the leader.

The angel announces its name, which one of the wingless demons scribbles down on its scroll. "I was summoned to act as a substitute for El-Sh—"

Another wingless demon, the buffest, dashes towards the angel and grabs the front of its attire. "Get lost."

"Af, Af, relax," the head demon says. "Release our new friend."

Af snarls before reluctantly letting go of the angel.

"El-Shädda sent for you, you say?" the demon says, ambling about the angel. "Where is he?"

The angel follows the Corporal's movements with its eyes; immediately tears its gaze once it realizes whom it is speaking with. Its shoulders cave in, its mouth falls agape.

The Corporal tilts its head and smiles. "Hmm?"

"I— I don't know..." the angel holds its forehead, rubbing it as if to fend off the horrendous image it has freshly beheld in its mind. The next thing it knows, its rival's fist connects with its cheek. The blow throws the angel to the ground.

The angel mumbles the demon's name, and says, "What happened?" It doesn't move. It doesn't fight back. It remains on the ground in a prostrate position. It has been about six thousand years, yet the angel can still be shocked from simple recognitions.

"I fell. How about you? Still that pretty runner boy, aren't you?" The Corporal lifts the angel's head by pulling up its auburn curls. "I've missed you, you know? Since you left me at the Amphitheater that very fateful day."

The angel stares into the demon's eyes, trying to look for even just a faint trail of contriteness; but all it finds is madness. There is no longer a hint of the friend it once knew.