Chapter Thirty-Nine

Long after the sun dipped over the horizon, covering the ship's deck in a thick layer of shadow, Aeron walked outside and stared at the twinkling stars above. He was the only living soul wandering that deck barring the lookouts and a few mice. "It's cold," he thought as he opened his mouth and took in a breath of frigid air. The way the frosty gas burned in the back of his throat reminded him of Tartarus and made him feel uneasy.

"What's wrong?" he heard Zia say as she stepped out onto the deck, donning her traditional night garb. Since it was the middle of the night, she wasn't wearing any makeup, which allowed him to get a full view of the ambassador's true face.

"Hmm… you look better that way," he told her, half-joking, as he returned his focus to the sky. He couldn't tell with the dim light, but, for a second, he swore that he saw Zia blush.

"What brought that on?" she asked as she joined the Angel next to the railing. The waves had calmed down considerably since nightfall and were now nothing but small splashes on the vessel's hull. In response, the Templar chortled and gazed up at the moon.

"I'm just speaking my mind, that's all," he said as a school of nocturnal fish jumped out of the ocean, their scales shimmering in the moonlight like a vibrant rainbow.

"How pretty," Zia whispered as she playfully prodded the Cherub's shoulder. "Come on; you can at least attempt to be enchanted." If there was one thing she learned after all this time spent with this judge, it was that he was quite the self-contained person. Even though he had parts of him that worried her and—on occasions—scared her, there was also this curious adventurer that she knew was hiding just beneath the surface. From that perspective, Aeron appeared to be little more than an inquisitive child—someone who was desperate to break free from Heaven's borders and see all of creation. For an Angel, that was quite the strange mentality, and she respected him for that. After all, Heaven was technically paradise, so there weren't many who'd be willing to leave it. In some ways, that drive reminded her of herself.

"So, tell me, Ms. Ambassador," Aeron started as he lit a cigarette and stared back out at the water, "why did you come out here? I thought that you'd be asleep by now." Zia shrugged as she scratched her cheek.

"What can I say? I don't rest well on boats. Never have, never will. So, instead of spending my time twiddling my thumbs back in our room, I thought it'd be nice to go and see the ocean at night." Aeron smiled when he heard that—it was the same way with him. So much was going on that it made his head spin, and he thought that a little fresh air would help.

"I think you just need to learn how to loosen up, Mr. Weber," Zia commented as a light breeze blew some strands of hair into her eyes. "Shoot, I really should've tied this back before I came out here," she groaned as she struggled to stop her mane from tying itself into knots.

Aeron laughed. "Don't worry about it," he said as he reached into his jacket and pulled his gavel's trigger. In mere moments, a fine piece of purple cloth appeared in Zia's hands.

"Wow… thanks." As she wrapped the cloth around her hair, she yawned and looked off into the distance. "Tell me, Aeron, what is it exactly that you hope to find in your work? Most judges stop after serving their term and go on to paradise, but you chose to remain and stay with the Bureau." She knew that the Angel was using his job as a method to cure his boredom. However, that wasn't all. "Nobody gets to a position like yours unless they have a reason to do so. Care to fill me in?"

"You want me to tell you why I became a judge?" Aeron scoffed; he thought he had made that painfully obvious. "Well… it's quite simple. I joined because I was—" he stopped. "Do you smell smoke?" he asked as he raised his nostrils into the air.

"No, why would I smell smoke?" As if God himself was trying to answer her question, the boat suddenly started to shake. "What's happening?!" she yelled as they were flung to the floor by the sudden tremors. In an instant, Aeron dragged himself back over the railing and looked down towards the ship's bow, which was now engulfed in a raging fire. Immediately afterward, a familiar sound of bullets whistling through the air came over them.

"Are we being attacked?!" he thought as he clambered up a nearby flagpole, trying to get a better look at their surroundings.

"How's the view up there?" Zia yelled from below as another tremor violently shook the lower decks. The vibrations tore the hardwood floor apart, causing a massive cloud of dust and debris to cover the entire craft. Even with his Angelic eyesight, the night sky—combined with the ocean's reflective waters—made it exceedingly difficult to see anything. However, off in the distance, hidden amongst the rolling waves, he could see smoke rising over the water.

"What in God's name?!" he thought as the tide pushed their ship slightly higher, allowing him to see what the churning waters were hiding. Floating amongst the sea foam and smoke was the flaming wreckage of several vessels. A few still had their main flagpoles intact. "Those are all English trade ships!" Burning oil from the wreck had seeped out into the ocean. Large swaths of water were covered in smoldering waste, sending plumes of black smog up into the air. By this point, the near-constant shaking had gotten the attention of most of the passengers. Across the decks, people rushed out of their rooms to see what was happening.

"Are we being attacked?! Is it the Germans?!" one of the French refugees cried as another explosion rocked the area, sending splinters of hardwood and metal rocketing straight into the crowd. As screams filled the air, Elizabeth and Kashif came bolting out onto the stern, still dressed in their nightwear.

"Tell your guard dogs to gather our things! I've got a feeling that we aren't going to be here much longer!" Aeron yelled to Zia as he jumped down from the mast. "I think an enemy blockade is attacking this ship. Just over that group of waves to the north is a veritable graveyard of merchant transports." As he talked, he took out his gavel and frowned.

"But this is a passenger ship," Zia told him as she drew her pistol, her survival instincts screaming at her with every slight movement.

"Yeah, that's what's throwing me for a loop." Even though they were in the middle of a world war, the other side wouldn't just up and attack civilian ships. While he pondered this bizarre predicament, Elizabeth and Kashif finally caught up to them.

"What's happening, Ms. Lombardi?!" the girl screeched over the passengers' screams as she ducked under a stray bullet. At this point, nearly half of the deck had been consumed by the fast-approaching wall of flames. Charred corpses were strewn across the floor, many of them being the same people that they'd healed a few hours ago. "I'll see you all on the other side; I'm sorry we couldn't save you," she whispered to herself as she respectfully closed the bodies' eyelids. Sadly, the bodyguard had no time to pray for them.

"Watch out!" Kashif yelped as he forced his partner down. Moments later, a massive piece of sheet metal shot past their heads and embedded itself in a nearby wall. "Those mortals sure are throwing everything they have at this little ship," the man hissed as Aeron scowled. Something about all this didn't sit well with him.

"The Germans wouldn't waste this many resources on a simple civilian transport unless they had something to gain." At this point, he severely doubted that this boat was just ferrying people. So—while everyone else was distracted dodging bullets—he slipped away and headed to the lower decks. After about a minute of clambering down flight after flight, he came to a large, sealed door. A small combination lock was placed next to the handle, coated in a strange gel-like substance. "Hmm," he thought as he rubbed the gel together in his fingers. "It's probably a fire retardant." That could only mean one thing. In an instant, he grabbed his gavel and pulled the trigger. "If I can't use flames, I'll just disintegrate the lock." Slowly, the metal door started to change color and rust away. It only took thirty seconds before it was weak enough for him to force his way through. "Well… I probably should've expected this," he thought when he saw what was hiding behind. Lining the walls and stacked up to the ceiling were crates upon crates of weapons, ammo, and various other tools for war.

"Aeron! There you are! Come on, we need to go!" he heard Zia yell as she and her bodyguards came rushing down the stairs. However, when they saw what he was looking at, they stopped and stepped back. "Why are there weapons here?" she asked as a wave of heat wafted down from above. They probably only had a few more minutes before the fire reached them.

"You lived in Hell for how long, and you don't know the answer to that question?" he snapped as a few embers floated down from the ceiling. "When it comes to war, mortals will do anything to win. And that includes smuggling ordnance and munitions on civilian ships."

"Don't you think you're being a bit too harsh?" Elizabeth asked as they hurried back up. "You've seen the refugees. All people are different." The Cherub scoffed as they walked back out onto the lower deck—which was now engulfed in flames.

"You forget what I am, girl. I was watching mortals long before you were even born. And trust me, I've seen all this before," he hissed as a few coals licked his boots. "Damn," he thought. "We've probably only got a few minutes before the flames reach the armory," he said. It went without saying that they needed to be off the ship by then—unless they wanted to be blown away. Even though none of them could technically die, the injuries they would sustain if they stayed here would be more than enough to slow them down.

"How are we going to escape? All of the lifeboats have already burned," Kashif said as a strong breeze splashed ash and sea salt onto his face. As he rubbed off the muck and grime, Aeron turned around and scratched his chin.

"It is pretty dark, and with all of this chaos, I doubt anyone would notice. Plus… this ship is about to explode—that would be a good distraction," he pondered. Not wanting to waste any more time, the Angel looked up and placed a hand on Zia's shoulder.

"Huh, what's up?" she asked.

"I need all of you to stop talking and listen closely to what I'm about to say," he started as he hopped up onto the railing. "Since lifeboats aren't an option, we'll have to fly. Zia, you and your bodyguards are going to have to hold onto me." The Cherub unfurled his wings without waiting for their response, causing his silver halo to shimmer into existence.

"Please tell me you're joking!" Elizabeth whined as they felt the ship start to rumble. "There's no way you can carry all of us by yourself!" Even though the man was a Cherub, Aeron wasn't a taxi. One wrong move, and they'd all come spiraling down into the waves below.

"Less talking and more climbing," he told her—now slightly frustrated—as he picked Zia up and forcefully slung Kashif over his shoulder. Before Elizabeth had the chance to object, Zia frowned and grabbed her.

"Listen, I don't like this as much as you do, but it's our only chance." Once she was sure that Elizabeth was secure in her grasp, she looked up and nodded. "Okay, Templar, let's go." Before she could even finish her sentence, Aeron jumped and took off into the night sky.

"Dear God!" they heard Kashif scream as they flew rapidly through the air. Moments later, a massive shockwave shook their surroundings. The explosion was so powerful that it sent debris flying for miles, shooting molten slag up to the clouds.

"That was likely the armory," Aeron thought as he looked down at the ocean. As he expected, a massive blockade had been set up just over the waves. The charred remains of numerous ships were scattered across the area—and now that he had a bird's-eye view—he could see just how many vessels had been consumed in the battle. "Still… a blockade like this usually takes weeks to form. The war only started yesterday." He did not doubt that his presence had a hand in causing these tragic events. The world was marching straight towards its destruction with every passing moment, and if he didn't do something soon, it wouldn't take long before all of Earth looked like this graveyard of an ocean.

"Aeron! I see land!" he heard Zia say as they shot through a dense group of clouds. Thankfully, even though their ship was destroyed, they weren't far from their destination. Soon, they were back on the ground. However, that didn't mean they were safe. Before they even had a chance to take in their surroundings, a hail of bullets rained down on them. Explosions and fiery infernos tore through the countryside, incinerating every living creature within sight.

"We need to move!" Aeron cried out as mortar shells flattened the landscape. "Shit!" he cursed as a stray bullet dug into his left elbow. Before another volley had the chance to riddle his body, Zia reached up and dragged the Angel into a nearby crater. "Thanks," he grunted as he tended to his wound, which had already started to heal.

"Don't mention it," Zia told him as she got out her pistol. "I'm surprised that they're fighting so late at night; massive armies like this usually wait till morning before they start firing the heavy artillery. I'm assuming this is because of you, right?" Aeron bit his lip as he peeked over the edge of the crater. At one time, this place was probably a beautiful grassland full of rolling hills and deer. Now it was nothing more than a big pile of mud where the only landmarks were pits and the occasional shattered tree.

"Yeah, my presence is definitely causing the war to escalate faster, that's for sure," he admitted as they heard the pitter-patter of boots against dirt draw near. "Heads up, I think we're about to get some company." Right on cue, a group of soldiers dived into the crater they were hiding in. All were young men in their mid-twenties. Their hair was messy and disheveled from the force of the blasts, and all their uniforms were covered in a thick layer of grime.

"Jacob! Hurry up and hand me that grenade! We need to charge their line!" one of them yelled. He had a slightly different uniform than the others and appeared to be the regiment's commander. When the soldier didn't respond, he swiveled around—ready to reprimand his disobedient subordinate. "Jacob! Are you having a laugh over there? I said, give me that grenade!" That was when the commander saw his men's unconscious bodies. "What the devil?!" he started as Kashif swung the butt of his pistol into the back of the man's head, instantly knocking the soldier out.

"That was close. If I were just a moment slower, they would've started shooting," the bodyguard said as he rubbed his sore hand.

"Did you have to hit them that hard? Some of these men might have concussions," Elizabeth complained as she carefully cradled the commander's head in her lap. "You cracked their skulls open." A few had a small trickle of blood oozing out of their wounds. If they didn't do something fast, it was possible that all of them would die.

"We don't have time to waste on the living. Patch them up the best you can so we can leave," Aeron told her as he watched another group get torn to pieces by a machine gun. With a sigh, he reached into his pocket and pulled out one of their special maps. After a few seconds, the image on the parchment morphed to show the layout of the battlefield. "Getting out of this is going to be tricky," he thought as he bit his thumb. Thanks to the constant hail of bullets, flying wasn't an option. "So close and yet so far," he mumbled. The dig site they were after was just over the hill. Sadly, a maze of trenches and craters blocked their path. If they wanted to get to the dig site, they would have to go straight through one of the fronts.

"There," Elizabeth said as she carefully mended the injured soldiers. "All better. As long as nobody throws a bomb in here, these men should be fine." To lower the risk of infection, she'd also partially cleaned the areas around their wounds.

"Templar, do you have a plan?" Zia asked as she helped Elizabeth sit the soldiers upright. "We obviously can't use your wings. So—unless Yahweh sends us a miracle—we're kind of trapped." Aeron hated to admit it, but the ambassador was right. All of them stuck out like sore thumbs, which wasn't exactly ideal when stuck in the middle of a barren killing field.

"The best chance we have at escaping this mess is by entering one of the trenches. However, we can't do that looking like civilians. We'll need disguises." In the worst-case scenario, he could use his powers to stop the fight in its tracks, but that would be like announcing to all the realms that he was here. "What if we—" he stopped when he felt his foot brush against one of the soldiers. "Ah," he smiled as he gazed at the man's uniform. "We're in luck; these men might just be a miracle," he told her as he snapped his fingers in joy. Suddenly, four uniforms identical to what the soldiers were wearing materialized into existence. "Sorry if they're a bit tight. Since I don't have your exact measurements, I had to improvise," he continued as he slipped one on. It didn't take long for his comrades to figure out his plan. After traveling with him for the past few days, they'd learned how to read him and his mannerisms.

"So, we're just going to sneak in? Isn't that a bit risky?" Elizabeth asked as she tried her best to fit into her disguise. "Hey, Templar," she started, "Ms. Lombardi and I are women. People are going to ask questions if they see us in this outfit." All the soldiers on this battlefield were men, after all. At her query, Aeron shrugged and pursed his lips.

"With how unpredictable the situation is right now, I doubt anyone will notice. Just keep your head down and act naturally." All they had to do was get past the trench line. Once they were there—even if one of the soldiers realized something was amiss—they'd be home free. "Are you guys ready?" he asked once they were all disguised. When they nodded, he smiled and vaulted up out of the crater. "Then let's run like hell!"

From the desk of Jeremy Knight: A Brief Study on the Philosophy of Angels...

Fallen Angels are defined as those few Cherubs that decided to stray from God's grace. A common misconception is that they are Demons—they are not. They are devil-like in the fact that sins taint them, but fallen Angels are still Angels. This concept is a controversial one. As fallen Angels, understandably, are treated like outcasts amongst their kin. Due to their immense strength, some of these dirtied Cherubs have found their way into positions of power within the demonic hierarchy. The prominent example of this fact is, of course, Satan. The ruler of Hell has a history with Heaven; however, no one knows the full extent besides God himself. Maybe this is because fallen Angels are rare. And, therefore, are relatively introverted when compared to their brothers and sisters. This answer—along with many others on the subject—begets further research.