Tail of the Dragon

By Timothy Reihm

Book 1 of the Fallen Angel Trilogy (www.fallenangeltrilogy.com) tells the story of revolution in the Celestial City. A new class of angels in inducted into the Angelic Academy as a pair of renegades leads an uprising against the rule of the Three Kings. Students must choose sides as the conflict reaches a crisis and two best friends find themselves on opposite sides of the struggle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Timothy Reihm
• Release date: Jun 18, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301084401

Timothy Reihm

Tim is a marketing executive, entrepreneur and former college English instructor. He has created a number of publications and written for many others. He has published book one of a trilogy that will be completed in the spring of 2012- www.fallenangeltrilogy.com.

Book preview

Book 1- Tail of the Dragon

The first book in the Fallen  series begins with the creation of a new group of arella. Two of the new creations, Ariel and Gadreel, become fast friends as they embark upon their seven years of training at the Angelic Academy. They live in a paradise and spend their days in contented camaraderie.

But there are whispers of a rebellion and rumblings of discontent against the Kings. One of their housemates, Helel, becomes involved in a secret group that is engaged in specialized training. When Gadreel, too, becomes involved, their friendship, and the Kingdom itself, is threatened. 

Book 2- By Demons Be Driven

Helel and his demons become the princes of a newly created domain through trickery. With stolen artifacts from the Kingdom, Helel and his army use dark matter, possession and manipulation to corrupt and influence the natives. The battle escalates over the eons as a desperate rescue operation is attempted by the Kingdom. (available Winter, 2013)

Book 3- Oceans of Fire

After a devastating defeat at the hands of Michael, Helel is forced to rethink his strategy as he struggles to regain control over Gaia. He begins a campaign that is more successful than anything that he has been able to achieve prior. Famine, persecution, exotic diseases, genocide, world wars and nuclear holocaust decimate the population. An insidious propaganda campaign eliminates guardian influence from large swathes of the planet.

But the time is coming to an end. The power of chaos is rising and Helel's desperation grows as he nears the final battle, one that will result in great oceans of fire and a conclusion to the celestial war. (available Fall, 2014)

And his tail swept away a third of the stars of heaven and threw them to the earth. And the dragon stood before the woman who was about to give birth, so that when she gave birth he might devour her child.

Prologue

She carefully carried the urn up the treacherous trail toward the overlook. She made her way slowly, watching each step with a caution that bordered on terror. In her hands she held life, and she understood that a misstep would be fatal. Her smooth emerald skin glistened with exertion and she paused, set down her burden, and sat on a large boulder to rest.

Her eyes looked out lovingly over the land below. From this elevation, she could survey the entire span of the valley. She saw the rolling hills, the scrub trees, the gaunt flocks of harn, searching for small shoots and branches. Her eyes located the small home where her two offspring would be resting from the mid-day heat. Her mate would be preparing their evening meal while they slept.

Her gaze swept over the rows of clay-roofed dwellings, naming their inhabitants in her mind and reminding herself of the reason she had come. They were depending on her. A small group from her clan was walking toward the bank of the river. This had become a ritual, however fruitless, that occurred regularly throughout the day. Desperation forces one to cling to hope.

That desperation forced her to turn from the arid landscape before her and resume her trek. She had made this journey before, and each time had come back perplexed and agitated, with no resolution for her and her people. Today would be different. She would stand firm. Just thinking of standing up to them made her stomach tighten. She wanted to flee, but pressed on, determined.

She was aware that she was being followed, but was afraid to turn, afraid of tripping, afraid of failing. She could sense the little one's presence, scurrying from boulder to boulder, staying hidden, but watching. The knowledge that she was not alone on her journey was strangely reassuring. The little one offered no protection, but knowing that another shared her quest was a comfort, nonetheless.

Quemel watched the creature approaching up the narrow path carrying an urn of some type.

‘Here we go again,’ he said to Maleyan, smiling.

‘You have to respect her persistence,’ his friend answered.

‘I grow rather weary of persistence,’ he replied, his smile disappearing.

'Perhaps we allow for a small divergence,' Maleyan ventured.

'That defeats the purpose. They are so hardhearted and are not able to comprehend the bigger picture. They hang onto their primitive ways out of ignorance. I agree that it's difficult to see them live this way, but we have to force their hand. They have to move and rid themselves of their superstitious avoidance of civilization,' Quemel answered, determined.

As she rounded the final bend, the path opened up onto the great plateau. She spotted them immediately, standing massive and bathed in a soft glow. She stumbled slightly and almost dropped her burden. Recovering her balance, she continued deliberately toward the representatives. They stood on the edge of the cliff, surveying the work that was being done below.

Massive machines hoisted large, perfect cubes of rock through the air, deftly placing them atop the ever-growing wall. That wretched dam was the cause of their misery. Behind it stood the life that her people needed, but it cut off sustenance from her land. She looked at it with hatred, wishing that she had the power to smash it to bits. An explosion from further up the valley reminded her that she had none.

‘I will be strong and do what I can,’ she whispered quietly.

As she approached, Maleyan said, ‘Do you bring us gifts this time?’

‘I bring you life. I bring you the last trace of life in my land and ask what you would have me do with it?’ she replied with a quavering voice, laying the urn on the ground at the feet of the representatives.

'Do you bring us life tainted by stubbornness and pride?' Quemel asked.

'I bring you the last water in our land. I come to beg you, as arbitrators of justice, to allow life to return to our land. I beg you not to kill us.'

'You kill your selves if you refuse to leave. We have a place set aside for you and your clan. This dam is the key to your evolution. It will permit you and your people to live without the dangers that you currently face. Your crops will be irrigated. Your flocks will have water. We have made provision for you and you continue to defy us,' Quemel answered and gave a slight push against her will.

She looked up and met his eyes with alarm, but determination. She had been through this before and knew it was coming. She had spent days preparing herself mentally, but the suddenness of it still surprised her.

'We cannot be separated from our land. It is our birthright and that which unites us with our history, with our past and future selves. You think that you know what is best, but forcing us to move will kill a part of what we are. Please understand,' she pleaded and again sensed the push, harder this time.

Quemel was surprised by the newfound strength in this one. Previous visits from her had been easily dispensed with. She would come begging and with a little nudge, a mere suggestion, she would be quickly on her way home to explain why it would be best to move. The problem was that these suggestions never held for more than a few days. Then she would return and they would repeat the exercise. But it seemed that this ritual had strengthened her. As he pushed harder, he could feel the steely determination, like a stone wall that refused to yield.

He looked at Maleyan and saw a faint look of amusement on the other's face. Suddenly, the ember of frustration exploded in a conflagration of rage. This pathetic creature and her kind stubbornly ignored reason. He could crush her without any effort and she stood looking him in the eye. He gave up restraint and truly pushed. The wall flexed, straining against the pressure, then collapsed like a poorly constructed dam. Her defenses disappeared as if they were nothing but a wisp of smoke on the wind. But he didn't stop. He poured himself through the breach, sating the fury within.

Abruptly, his vision doubled and he was looking at his own face, and that image filled him with disgust, and anger, and fear. He just wished to be allowed to live his life as he chose. He only wanted to protect his clan; no, her clan. He looked down at his hands noticing how small and fragile the bones were beneath the sleek greenish covering of the skin. And he understood. This was not simple manipulation. He had taken over completely.

She understood that something had happened, but didn't know what. She pushed hard, but there was nothing there. One moment his weight was crushing her and the next minute it was gone, he was gone. Yet, she knew it was all wrong. Her thoughts were no longer hers. It was as if she had been shoved into a corner and forgotten inside her own head. She watched her hand go out and stroke the leg of the less frightening representative and heard her own laugh, but she hadn't laughed. What had he done to her? She was seized with impotent horror.

Quemel quickly adjusted to the sensation of occupying two bodies at once. He was exhilarated at the feeling. In an instant he understood all that drove these frustrating creatures, and he understood how to change them to his will. This would solve all of their problems in dealing with these puny beings.

'Do you know what this means,' she said to Maleyan.

For several minutes after reordering her thoughts he lingered on. It was such an incredible sensation to experience through her. All of those memories and impressions were now his. His throat burned excruciatingly. How long had it been since she had something to drink? She bent and picked up the urn, drinking deeply. When the thirst was gone, she picked up the remainder of the water, held it above her head, and poured. She laughed loudly.

It took all of his resolve to let go, but eventually he withdrew. Again the disorientation came and his vision was split. His mind lost touch with her.

Instantly he could see that something was wrong. She no longer stood resolute and challenging. Her eyes looked blank and dull and her neck refused to support the weight of her head, which hung to one side of her. He glanced at Maleyan, but his friend seemed unaware of the change. She began stumbling rapidly toward the edge. Quemel jumped forward to grab her, but as his hand touched her shoulder, she lost all sense of balance and fell backwards. He looked on, helpless, as her head exploded on a jagged protrusion of the rocky wall and her lifeless body cartwheeled out of the reach of help and life.

Chapter 1

Hasdiel stood on the empty podium imprinting the scene before him on the canvas of his prodigious memory. He stood still as a statue, completely motionless except for his serious blue eyes, which slowly scanned the scene, sorting, choosing, and cataloging the array of images before him. As the celestial scribe, it was his duty to give narrative clarity to occasions where the power of Kol was invoked. Although the words used by the three Kings in ordering matter could not be recorded, as they had no written equivalent, he was charged with the task of detailing the events that rendered existence- for galaxies, worlds, and for today, beings.

Creation itself was a perpetual condition, a never-ending ripple emanating from the utterance. The Kings spoke life, and from that point of entry a continual well of creative force sprang. But that ongoing process differed from the initial creative act. That beginning came directly from the source, and it was Hasdiel's job to detail that initiation. Today, instead of a new galaxy, with its innumerable worlds and species, new fellow arella would be created. Arella, as celestial beings and the direct servants of the Kings, were always prime creations, derived straight from the word.

Given his position, Hasdiel was certainly aware that the creation of nearly a thousand arella meant a lot of responsibility for him. As prime creations, he was charged with maintaining an ongoing history for each one. He would track their progress through the academy, give input into what choir they would be inducted into, and follow their post-academic work.

Each of these histories served as a kind of thread. These threads wove in and out, intertwining with others, constructing patterns, stories, impressions, philosophies. These tapestries were the essence of creation. Creating a world or a being was a singularly beautiful act, but the interaction between creations was the point. The beauty of the tapestry depended on the way that the created interacted with each other.

‘It is almost time.’

The familiar, sudden voice startled Hasdiel and caused his immobile frame to twitch perceptibly.

‘Araton, my old friend, are you ready?’

‘I am always ready,’ his friend responded with that recognizable twinkle in his eye, as he strode to his position on the podium from where he would signal the entrance of the Kings.

The presence of his old comrade reinforced the image of the tapestry. He and Araton had been in the same cohort at the academy and had remained friends since those early days. And Araton had always been ready for anything. The two telmid were a source of irritation to many of their instructors during their schooling. He recalled the time that they had removed all the bolts from their geography instructor’s chair before a class. He could still hear the laughter of his classmates as the haughty instructor landed unceremoniously on his backside with an irritated thump.

A palpable change could be perceived in the crowd below and that transformation forced him to return his attention to his duties. It wouldn't be long now. He had witnessed this process many times and never tired of it. He envisioned the awestruck faces soon to appear, as the newly created host opened their eyes for the first time and beheld their makers.

The podium that Hasdiel occupied stood just outside the eastern gates of the Eternal City, overlooking the vast plain before him. Ordinarily, this landscape was an endless sea of rich green grasses, highlighted by flowers of every color. But today was no ordinary day. The lush hues of the vegetation were still there, but their colors were muted below the shimmering, platinum glow of a fine metallic mist that covered everything, bathing the verdant scenery with an electric softness that seemed to dance with anticipation and energy.

Standing in formation by the eastern wall stood the escorts, numbering well over a hundred. Each held a shield in their left hand that bore the symbol of their respective choir and wielded a sword of the purest diamond in their right. All were dressed in bright adorned with a breastplate of singly colored gems. Their ranks were chosen in equal numbers from the seven choirs, each identifiable by the color of their ceremonial helmets and shields.

The silence shattered as a trumpet emitted a sudden note and the escorts glided forward and broke apart in a precise movement to form a box below the podium that Hasdiel occupied. The shadows at the base of the eastern wall shortened perceptively as the great mountain started glowing brighter, far off, in the heart of the city. All eyes focused on the incandescent mass of Mount Kol. The radiant eminence began rushing toward them, growing even larger. In an instant it loomed up massive and close. It seemed near enough to touch and towered over all.

A dark line appeared, running down the rocky entirety. The crease became a tear, a fissure that split the peak in two and revealed an inner sphere of brilliant light. This orb eliminated all remaining shade, and was suddenly there, in the center of the box created by the resplendent host. As it did so the angels bowed low in unison, stretching their wings over their heads and unto the ground.

The sphere unfolded, layers peeling away, revealing the three figures on their thrones. A voice called, ‘Arise, my friends.’

The escorts responded immediately and stood at full attention, with shields at their left sides and swords resting at an angle across their breastplates. As had happened on the day of his own creation, Hasdiel saw Elyon first, sitting upon his throne in the midst of the sphere. Ruach sat to his left wearing the robe that reflected the pattern of the encircling angelic box. To the right was Adonai. He rose and stepped forward with hands held aloft. Alert and attentive, Hasdiel knew this was the moment they had been anticipating.

An unseen breeze gathered on the immense field, lifting the quanta as it swirled and swept along. At first this movement seemed unordered, but as it blew across the plain it pooled into symmetrical patterns. Indistinct images formed in the pillars of glowing dust, gathering and coalescing gradually. He watched the metallic clouds thicken and twist, molding the increasingly distinguishable bodies, limbs and faces. In a second that seemed to hang interminably, the glimmering columns became. Where shafts of shimmering particles had been, appeared, in the blink of an eye, distinct forms, each beautiful and unique, hovering before the assembled throng, looking as if they were sleeping. Next, came the command. To those watching a single word was uttered; one that, though unintelligible, was understood by all to be the word of initiation. However, Hasdiel knew that each of these new beings would hear a personal, fully comprehensible, order to exist. As Adonai spoke the word, a powerful wind came from the thrones occupied by the three Kings and filled the nostrils of each of the newly created figures, and they began to stir...

Hasdiel stood stiffly, watching the remarkable scene before him. He opened up the titrane-bound volume and began transferring his thoughts onto the page. He scanned the faces of the escorts and knew that they, like himself, were remembering their own creation days. He focused on the being closest to him and saw the features form, one instant a cloud of thickening dust, the next a face, a brother, 'Ariel' he suddenly knew, and that telmid’s record was created.

Noise. Spinning round and round. Again, the noise. Changing. Not vibration. A word. Words, spinning round and round. Searching, grasping. Someone calling.

The voice, beautiful and welcoming. A voice? Yes, sounds coming from another. Another? Not me. Me? A being?

The sounds multiply and amplify. They rise and sweeten. Pictures? Images mixed with words. The voice calling me. Coming from Him. A face. A smile. Eyes, so beautiful and knowing. His face is still, a gentle smile resting placidly, reassuringly. But the words come and I understand. He is speaking to my, my mind. The idea clarifies and gives order to the images in my, my eyes. Yes.

‘Be Ariel.’

Hasdiel was aware the instant that the being before him became. The eyes suddenly blazed with an inner light. The black pupils began to recede into growing pools of steely blue. He watched those eyes dart quickly around seeking. They found their target and the look of joy on the newly created being's face stirred something in him. He felt deep emotion well up in his core, remembering the first time his eyes opened and saw the perfect form of the three Kings.

Words are forming in my head. I sense a strange power in my body. A warm glow in the center of my chest, spreading out, filling my shoulders, legs, arms, toes. My eyes see images. Other faces. I stand and enjoy the sensation of effort that the act requires. There is a soft light and as its glow fills me, I feel it radiating, showing. In an instant I understand. I see creation, life, growth. My mind is suddenly filled with words, ideas, emotions. I have been created. I have been ordered into existence. I am a special, unique creation.

‘I am,’ I think, staring at the three beings before me.

The voice of Adonai broke the silence.

‘My new friends; we welcome you to life and to the Kingdom. Each of you has been created, perfect in form and figure, with a free will to live that life, as you see fit. Each of you will receive the knowledge and support to grow and thrive. I know that even now you have many things to ask and I assure you that all of your questions will be answered in time. We are so pleased to have you join us. Your escorts will guide you to your new homes.'

Instantly, the wall of Cherubim surrounding the throne began to close again until only a gleaming sphere was visible. The mountain closed around the orb and withdrew, leaving the shadows to reemerge at the base of the city wall.

Chapter 2

The early morning shadows dissipated as the light from the distant mountain leaked in through the transparent balcony door. Ariel had been reclining on his pallet in a state of meditation for several hours, but the light of a new day beckoned to him. He walked out onto his small porch, enjoying the glorious view. The morning was cool and the trees and plants of the neighboring woods were covered in a fine mist that sparkled like thousands of jewels.

‘Good morning, Ariel,’ Gadreel's voice called from a few cubits away, standing on his own porch, also taking in the scenery.

‘Morning,’ Ariel responded. He paused, unsure how to continue.

‘I am looking forward to our expedition,’ he began and jumped as a strange scratching and a frenetic humming invaded his ear. He swatted repeatedly at the side of his head while flinging his hair about wildly. It ceased as quickly as it had started and Ariel stood with a baffled expression as a little winged creature flew irritably away.

Ariel turned toward the sound of laughter. He caught sight of Gadreel doubled over and gasping for air. Looking at his neighbor, Ariel felt a strange agitated sensation rise in his belly. He started to reprimand Gadreel, but when he saw his disheveled hair and harrowed look in the reflection of the glass door behind Gadreel, he too began laughing.

‘I know that I haven’t been around for very long, but I have never seen anything move as quickly as you did just now,’ Gadreel offered between barely suppressed giggles.

They stood watching each other, occasionally choking back fits of laughter.

‘What was that?’ exclaimed Ariel as a sudden, loud crash interrupted their exchange.

The two arella descended toward the growing commotion. Bursting through the kitchen archway, Ariel's feet suddenly shot out from beneath him. For a dizzying second, he felt an unsettling disorientation. Just as suddenly, his fall was arrested by a pair of strong hands. He leaned back his head and looked up into the grinning face of Gadreel.

‘You’re having quite a morning, aren’t you?’ his companion opined bemusedly.

With Gadreel’s help, Ariel righted himself and surveyed the scene around them. Beneath his feet was a slippery purple smear that smelled very sweet. There was a layer of some flaky, white substance covering the counters, with small pools of a yellowish, viscous pulp spread sporadically through the room. There was an odd device on the floor spinning in a wild circle, emitting a high-pitched whining noise. Its spasmodic movements created a bizarre pattern in the glaze. But the oddest sight of all was their housemate, Raphael. His face was barely discernible through a brown ooze that seemed to have been poured over his head. His hair hung in ragged clumps over powder-covered shoulders. His mouth curled in an expression of utter confusion.

For the second time on his inaugural morning, the sound of Gadreel’s raucous laughter met Ariel’s ears.

Together, the three housemates began cleaning up the mess as Raphael related the details of his first attempt at cooking.

‘It was going pretty smoothly, until I pressed the red button on that device,’ he explained.

This was greeted by another round of laughter from the audience, which Raphael bore patiently. As they were finishing up, a booming voice interrupted.

‘Good morning, all. I hope you have had a chance to settle in and get your bearings,’ the stranger said.

‘Ariel, how are your bearings?’ Gadreel asked with a chuckle.

'I am Elijah and I'm here to deliver you to the academy for your orientation. If you will all follow me.'

After summoning the rest of their housemates, they followed their escort and climbed onto a wide metallic platform that hovered just above the road, outside of their new residence. It began to hum and move smoothly down the  path down towards the stream, then up the steep hill on the other side. This small thoroughfare was joined by various other tributaries and like a river flowing down a valley it gradually widened, until, as they approached the main gate to the academy, they were riding on a great avenue. The school was fronted by a large ivory fence with intricate carvings of a variety of animals. They passed a row of buildings supported by white pillars and entered an expansive central square set around an enormous marble fountain.

The seven housemates disembarked from the shuttle and followed the growing group of first years streaming through the main door of the academy’s auditorium.

‘What do we do now?’ asked Ariel, looking around at the vast interior of the reception hall.

Gabriel spotted a wooden counter with rows of parchment spaced evenly across its length. He walked part way down the table and picked up a pile of the golden pages and returned to the group. He began handing out a copy to each member of their party while adding, ‘It seems we are to meet our orientation guide, a fourth year by the name of Akon, in the Emerald Observatory. He studied a separate sheet that appeared to be a map of the campus, before pointing down a long hallway off of the reception hall.

Gadreel fell into step beside Ariel as they walked toward the opposite side of the enormous space. It was not hard to find the observatory. From far down the hall the large archway, crafted from a single, perfect emerald reflected the light and caused a patchwork of various shades of green to dance on the marble floor before them.

Ariel laughed as Gadreel performed a little jig, jumping from one jade-colored polygon to the next. As they entered the circular chamber a deep, booming voice greeted them.

‘Welcome to the Angelic Training Academy, first years. I am your orientation guide, Akon.’

Before anyone in their group had a chance to introduce himself, Akon began making his way down their ranks, naming each one, and firmly grasping each forearm. Halfway through the group, Pharzel interrupted the introductions.

‘Sir. How do you know all of our names?’

‘Pharzel. Please don’t call me sir,’ he began with a smile. ‘You can see that I am wingless. I am a student just like you. Many of the skills that you will eventually gain take some time to develop. One of those talents is a sense of those around you. There will be beings that you do not know, but you will have knowledge of them. When I look at you, the name Pharzel comes into my head, along with a certain feeling about you, almost like a color. We are all unique creatures and that uniqueness is reflected in our names and the aura that surrounds us. But we are also connected, so we are able, eventually, to truly see each other.’

‘When will we develop this skill?’ asked Helel eagerly.

‘It depends upon your ability,’ their guide answered. ‘Some acquire it very quickly, occasionally as early as the second year. For most it happens sometime during their third year. It can take into the fourth and even fifth year. Some will have a more developed sense than others. It actually took me well into my third year to truly see those around me, and I am not very good at it,’ he continued unashamedly.

‘Each of you received your schedule, broken down by year. This is the basic outline of how your training will progress. Your first year begins with a six-week course covering the history of the kingdom, taught by Trainer Pravuli. As with all of our trainers, Pravuli is an exceptional instructor, though I must warn you he hits the ground running, so it would serve each of you to watch the introduction this evening in preparation for class tomorrow.’

‘And how is our progress measured, sir? Sorry. I mean Akon,’ Ariel interrupted sheepishly.

‘At the end of the first six-week module, you will have an examination that will test your recall on the important points in history covered in this course. You will then cover basic geography and science. Last, but certainly not least, will come the choir match.’

‘What choir is the best one to join?’ asked Helel.

‘That depends on you,’ Akon answered. ‘One is not better than another. You are matched based on the attributes that