Descendant of Dagda (One Shot)

Descendant of Dagda

The Sixth Seal was stolen. They will be coming for the last. I trust that it is still safe under your protection. I have sent you the boy. Teach him. He is our only hope.

These last words in the letter of Mun Baji, a monk from Kye Monastery in Tibet, kept repeating itself inside my head.

I cannot believe that yet another Seal was stolen. Over many centuries, the Keepers of Light, a brotherhood dedicated to the protection of the Seven Seals, has done its best to hide away the Seals from the clutches of darkness. It seemed all efforts were wasted. I have been dreading for this moment to come.

"Make haste!" I urged the boy following me to hurry. He looked only thirteen. He was dark skinned, scrawny, with shaved head; dressed in orange and brown garment of a monk.

"Where are we going?" he said, confused.

"To retrieve something."

I guided him down the hall toward the altar, fetching a candelabrum from the walls as we walk by. Once beyond the altar stone, we halted.

"You haven't told me your name," I said, reaching inside my robe. I took out the necklace I have sworn never to take off. It was a crucifix, but it was more.

"I am called Seraph," the boy answered quietly.

"And I am Father Dimitri," I said, pressing the white stone found at the head of my crucifix. There was a hiss, and the crucifix began to rearrange itself in the shape of a metal fan; it became a key. I bended down and pressed the fan into the indentation on the floor. It clicked into place and the dais of the altar began to recede, revealing a hidden stairway.

"The city was being invaded by Muslim army. Why aren't we fleeing just like the other priests?" The terror in his voice was evident. It seemed to echo my own fear. Just before dusk, news that the Ottoman army penetrated the forces of Byzantine soldiers has reached the church. But I knew that the invasion was but a front for their true hidden agenda.

"Because there is nowhere else to hide." I raised the candelabrum high above our heads and we began to descend down the passageway. "Do you believe in angels, Seraph?" I said after a while.

It took several seconds before he spoke, and there was doubt in his answer. "I was told there were angels as well as demons. If they truly exist, I haven't met any of them."

"The mark on your hand, what do you think it was for?" I have noticed the mark: a crescent with three dots running along its open side embossed at the back of his hand when he handed me the letter moments ago.

"I don't know. It was already here as long as I can remember."

I was expecting his response. "Do you believe in Hell?" Without waiting for his reply, I continued, "Long ago, a war broke in the Heavens. The rebellion was led by Lucifer, one of the most trusted angels. He was corrupted by pride. And because of it, he and his followers were cast away. Lucifer was imprisoned in Hell, locked within Seven Gates. These Gates were bound by Seven Seals which were scattered all around the world.

"Over time, the battle continued, and the legacy of keeping the Seals safe was passed from generation after generation. It was said that if Lucifer's cohorts manage to gather all the Seals, they would open the Seven Gates, and Lucifer will be awaken to unleash Hell over the land.

"But it was said that one angel, Sandalphon, had appointed a progeny that would prevent it from happening and branded him with a mark. That mark was known among my brothers as the Mark of Dagda, the Great Harper and one of the Keeper of the Seals. He was best known to the Celts as a god." By this time, we have reached the end of the passage and it gave way to a huge circular chamber. Its walls were made of marbles, flanked by seven towering columns of white stone. At the center of the chamber, there stood a raised pulpit and on it sat a golden harp, as tall as an adult human; its strings were glowing like fine rays of light.

"Why are you telling me this?" Seraph paused at the last step, mesmerized by beauty of the harp.

"Because you are a descendant of that lost bloodline, you have the Mark of Dagda."

Even with partial darkness, I saw the boy's face register shock. He clenched his fist, clearly troubled. "You're lying!"

He was about the say more when I covered his mouth. Up ahead, I heard heavy thuds; someone was trying to break the bars of the great double doors.

I signaled him to keep silent as I made my way to the harp. As soon as I touched its golden bow, its glow dulled and it shrank to a small size; it became an ordinary harp. I grabbed it and put it inside a clothe sack I produced from under my robes and handed it to Seraph. Snuffing the candlelight, we traced our way back up.

As we neared the entrance, we heard screaming and the wooden bars of the double doors groaned and broke. Whoever was leading them, instructed them to spread out and we remained unmoving in our hiding place.

The silence that followed it was unnerving. After a few moments, I crawled out first, Seraph close behind me, hands gripping tightly on the sack. He was visibly trembling. With the altar covering us, I half peeked at the edge of the altar stone.

A whiz zoomed past, just millimeters away from the tip of my nose and an arrow pierced deep at the stone wall behind me.

The double doors thud closed and I saw a lone man pivoted slowly to face us. He was dressed like a royal; clad in crimson dress and white bandana, his sword was dangling by his side. He was holding a bow, and it appeared that he had used his last arrow. Even with the distance, I knew who he was. He was the sultan who had plotted the invasion, Mehmed, the Conqueror.

He muttered something in Turkish and then reverted to English. "Come out wherever you are and give it to me."

I looked back at Seraph, his eyes were wide the fear, but he remained quiet.

"You have already taken the church. What more do you ask?" I came out of hiding.

"It's the Seal I need." With that, black smoke bellowed out of his mouth. It rose high above the dome and as the last of it emitted out of him, he fainted and fell hard on the cold floor.

The smoke churned and condensed and the air was filled with the stench of sulfur. Demons. It drifted low on the floor and separated into seven parts, each swirling and turning to take the shape of a black fiend.

"Hello, Dimitri. We've meet again." The tallest fiend smiled at me; it was Azmodan, the treacherous devil. "Give me the boy and the Seal and I will spare you."

"Never Azmodan!" I spat, stepping in front of the terrified boy, while drawing two short silver swords from within my robes.

"So be it," the demon snarled and all of them attacked at once.

I raised my sword, sliced and dodged as the demons turned from smoke, regaining shape midair to claw and scratch at me. The boy cowered by the altar stone, horrified, hugging the clothe sack as if his life depended on it. That was when it dawned on me.

"Play the harp!" I shouted at the boy.

"But I don't know how!"

"Remember you are a descendant of Dagda. It's in your blood."

Azmodan took the distraction to drag me away and they surrounded Seraph in a shroud of shadow.

I was sure it was the end then, until I heard a single note reverberated across the hall.

There was a legend that said, it was Lucifer's side winning the battle in Heaven, but he was defeated because Sandalphon played the Music of Eternal Slumber that caused him to weaken.

I never believed that such music existed, until Seraph, the unwilling boy, played it. It was the most ethereal, soulful music I have ever heard. But human ears were not designed to hear such music. I began to weaken. And as I fell down the floor, I saw Seraph playing the harp in a cocoon of blinding light before I passed out.

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I woke up in chains, with all the other survivors, in the gardens. The great Hagia Sophia basilica was laid in ruins that day, 29th of May, 1453, with the Ottomans conquering all of Constantinople. And as of the boy, Seraph, it was the last of him that I have ever seen or heard.