Rollin' Like Sisyphus

The Relic Of Saint Michael – Part I

Posted in Swords & Stones by Huckleberry on October 30, 2015

On The Eve Of The First Day

Two brothers stood at the edge of a great chasm, staring down into a near-impenetrable darkness. Behind them stood the tattered ruins of a once-magnificent field that crested gently upward, where it met the horizon at the base of a bright palace stretching up into the clouds of a brilliant golden sky. The field was cratered and burned, with small fires still smoldering in places. Scattered throughout, glowering figures in gleaming armor rounded up their enemies into small groups and marched them toward to the precipice of the chasm. The two brothers stood side by side, silent, staring through the emptiness before them. At the bottom of the chasm, a faint orange pinpoint gently flickered.
The older brother put his hand on his sibling’s shoulder. The younger brother turned to face his elder, turning his back to the chasm. He tried to look the older brother in the eye, but couldn’t hold the gaze for more than a moment. His glance darted about – to the palace, to the war-torn field, to groups of his conquered army being rounded up and marched to the edge of the chasm, five and ten at a time.
“I almost had it,” the younger one said.
“The end was never in doubt,” the older one said, sternly.
“I’m sorry to see it end this way,” the younger brother said with a sigh. “For whatever its worth, I’m sorry.”
“I know,” the older brother replied. “Take solace in knowing this isn’t an end, but a beginning.”
The younger brother looked to his left just as a group of his soldiers were pushed off the edge. They disappeared into the emptiness without a sound.
“You can’t kill me,” the younger brother said.
“I can,” the older one said, sliding a sword out of a flat, dull leather scabbard hung from his belt. “But I won’t. Not yet.”
The younger brother was finally able to focus his gaze, fixing it on his brother’s sword as he drew it. The short, slender sword, which more resembled a dagger, had a plain hilt, but a beautiful blue metal double-edged blade, and a single blood groove that perfectly bisected the blade from tip to guard. The hue of the metal held something familiar to the younger brother, a power that existed beyond everything that he had ever known or could ever know. He could not shake the feeling that the sword, in a sense, was made for him.
“Where did you get the sword, brother?” the younger one said.
“You already know.”
“Father?”
“Father.”
“So it can kill me.”
“Yes.”
The two brothers stood facing each other in silence. To the right and to the left groups of the vanquished continued to be marched off the precipice into the chasm.
“I’m still sorry,” the younger one said.
“Nothing to be done about that now,” the older brother said with resignation. “It’s time.” He thrust his sword into his younger brother’s belly, wrenched it clockwise a quarter-turn, then pulled it out. The younger brother cried out in pain, a pain he couldn’t imagine was possible. He doubled-over but managed to stay on his feet, gasping for life.
“I love you, brother,” the younger said, anguish and fear contorting his face as blood streamed to the ground. The older brother reached out with his free hand, grabbed the younger brother by the shoulder, raised him up, and met his eyes.
“We’ll meet again,” he said. He pushed the younger sibling to the edge. “On the last day, we’ll meet again.”
“Until that day, then,” the younger brother grunted as he was pushed off the edge. Tumbling backward, he caught one last glimpse of the pure bright golden sky that hung over the home from which he was now in exile, trying to take it all in until the darkness of the chasm snuffed it from his sight.
The older brother turned from the chasm and began walking toward the palace, relieved but saddened. In stride he slid the small sword into its scabbard, still caked with the dried blood of the rebel of God.

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4 Responses

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  1. El Borak said, on October 30, 2015 at 16:43

    He should have smitten that punk with the Axe of the Apostles.

  2. Doom said, on October 30, 2015 at 18:15

    Interesting. You do realize… Satan, when he was known as Lucifer, and before the fall, was seraphim. These are some of the few angels, terribly powerful ones, who had direct access to God. Archangels were… field agents, middle management, sometimes just superior blue collar. Much, much, lesser than seraphim. Think head of CIA, or Chief of Staff, versus mid level field agent, officer, plant manager. St. Michael’s defeat of Satan was no less than the disciples’ eventually realization that Christ was God… an act of the Holy Spirit. Yes… the Spirit moves through them, and moves them, just as He does us. And, mind you, St Michael did not defeat Satan with a will or way to arms, if it is suggested he has these. He did so the same way we would, through the name of Christ.

    And, yet, there are things in your story which I… don’t think you understood. There is meaning there that I don’t think you could know. I won’t bother with those, just… I will enjoy how things work out. The blind, these too see. Sometimes better than those with eyes. Quite a little joy, at least as I understand things, to see… the blind see, and say. I would know, I see through a slightly different sort of blindness. Well… if you believe such things.
    —-
    Even with the Will of God, he could not have been smitten, El. Until his time. And, to be honest, he will not be smitten. He will suffer hell like no other, but he will not be slain. God is… funny that way. No soul or angel may perish, only those without soul or pure spirit (humans and angels). Or, so I have heard. Might be a way to grace for some of the others, but that is… an even narrower road.

    • Huckleberry said, on October 30, 2015 at 22:09

      I wouldn’t get too hung up on the theology of it. That’ll really ruin the story for you when the aliens show up.

  3. Doom said, on October 31, 2015 at 01:42

    *grins* I thought angels WERE aliens. Oh, with most, I don’t get hung up at all. Especially not with the blind, even when they see what they don’t understand. Enjoy. I will. Curious to see if there is more. I look for little things that… Never mind.


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