Heretics

By Alan D Jones

HERETICS is the third book in the To Wrestle with Darkness canon. I wrote this book to illuminate the dark places in our lives, to shine a light on who we could be, no matter how dark our past.In this book, a handful of gifted heroines and heroes must stop the time god, Kronos, from destroying all that is, to remake the universe in his own image. Can Kronos and his band of seemingly all-powerful rogue godlings be stopped? And, to whom can a world falling into darkness turn? Discovering that answer is an epic tale which will remain with you long after you've read it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alan D Jones
• Release date: Feb 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463487112

Alan D Jones

Alan, a former columnist for the Atlanta Tribune and author of "To Wrestle with Darkness", has an MBA from Georgia State University's Robinson School of Business. Currently, he works as an Oracle Business Software consultant.

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Nephilim Dreams

Children of dysfunction can spend their entire lives searching for center, when in truth, the best many can hope for is contentment in the eye of the storm. – Michael

As a child of those who came before, which some call the cast down ones, Mavis was besieged by demons, seeking to collect upon a blood debt long overdue. They longed for Mavis as a spoiled child longs for candy, insistent and insatiable. The foul ones spoke many wicked things to her, most of which she ignored. However, one accusation, that her father, Paul, was not a child of those who came before, but was rather, one of the original fallen, stung the most. For were it true it would bring into question all that she believed herself to be. (see Fallen Angels)

Mavis, freed from the Pit (Purgatory), had hoped that relocating from New Orleans to Atlanta would help her move on. But Grandmother Elisa had been right, for even if you escape hell, the stench will remain, no matter how hard you wash. For over three hundred years Mavis roamed the Pit, in separation from the world, charged with aiding any mortal soul unfortunate enough to also find itself on the wrong side of reality. Now back among the living but never aging, every day Mavis was reminded of the events leading to her freedom. She remembered fragrance which had led her to the mountain top, and each day hence, she recalled the smell of jasmine which led her down the path to the blessed portal of her release.

But on this day, as she took first breath, Mavis awoke with a start, disturbed by that morning’s nightmare. Mavis dreamt of a world not her own, but a world filled with life

nonetheless. It was a world ensnared around a binary star system: one hot blue star, the other a red giant. Mavis saw life of every kind living splendidly, but as always in this dream, she saw destruction sweeping in upon them like a strong wind, turning every resident of this world into dust. Mavis sat in confusion, until at last she realized that it had all been a dream. Catching herself and her breath, Mavis turned to lower her feet to the floor. But as Mavis stood and felt a twinge in her hip, she wondered. Turning from her dream, Mavis rubbed her fingers through her naturally curly hair, and even without a mirror, for there were no mirrors in her bedroom, she found a single gray hair. In that moment, Mavis knew. A given for most who breathe, Death had been for Mavis a hidden bride in waiting, who’d on that day, at last revealed herself. A true lady will only allow an engagement to carry on but so long. Death had indeed set a date for their long-awaited nuptials.

While this revelation would have been unnerving to most, for Mavis, it was merely a shift in awareness, a change in perspective towards her own existence. But for what purpose might this new thing be? For the first ten years after her return from the Pit, Mavis wandered in the shadows of New Orleans and for the last three years she had lived in the light of Atlanta, in this safe house, serving the needs of the needy. For almost fourteen years, Mavis longed to understand why she’d been led back to the land of the living. And though this lone gray hair did not answer her question, Mavis took it as a sign that all would soon be revealed.

Shooting Star

There is a certain peril in hope, which cannot be measured. And yet, hope is the blood which courses through our souls. - Rachel

Darnell fell from the sky like a western star, just as the sun rose in the east over Jerusalem. Had the Sun taken form a couple of minutes earlier he would have fallen into the Mediterranean far from shore. Not to mention the fact that his secret may have been exposed; for men aren’t given to flight, are they? But like all Nephilim, Darnell was only part man. The other part of him was something of fierce debate between the few who knew of such beings. In Darnell’s case, by day he was stronger than the average man, but nothing that would cause the hearts of men to race in confusion and fear. But by night, he was something else entirely. By night, translucent, he soared high above the earth as little more than vapor. When he solidified himself in the darkness, his strength was the substance of legends. By night his eyes blazed with a holy fire capable of searing flesh and spirit alike. But now, in the morning light, on the streets of Jerusalem, Darnell was little more than just another mortal with an impossible task to do.

As Darnell pursued his quarry, he sensed that he too was being pursued. The recently widowed Darnell’s dreams were haunted by something, likely a spirit, he thought. But given his gift of intuition, Darnell sensed that the spirt was not demonic. Still, the presence of another entity within his temple troubled Darnell. In his nearly four hundred years, Darnell had walked many worlds, and through several dimensions; so, he reasoned that the origin of his disconcertment could have been from any of these sources. Heroes attract enemies.

Walking the ancient stone lined streets, Darnell’s first gift of being able to see slightly beyond what mere mortals could, remained at his side. On the darkest nights, he could literally see into other levels of existence, but by day his second sight was little more than intuition. So, as he walked the narrow streets, Darnell fought hard to ignore a city coming to life in an age of death, so that he might have the needed focus to track his lost lamb. Darnell’s wayward Nephilim had a name; it was Nicholas Johnson. Nick, as he was known to most, was the latest of us to go missing, and finding him was the best hope of finding out why. Defending the world against threats from this dimension and others as well, was a dangerous job. But of late, one by one, Nephilim like us had gone missing at an alarming rate. Driven by a tip, Nick had gone off on his own chasing a lead, and now he was missing. Darnell and Nick’s red headed wife, Elizabeth decided to split up to search for Nick, which was a violation of policy. In the House of Sacrifice, of which we were a part, it was mandated that we work in pairs, but these were desperate times. Still, in that moment, Darnell was regretting their decision to split up, even as he searched. Darnell knew that the sometimes hot headed Elizabeth was prone to taking chances, and that fact weighed on him.

Darnell followed the path before him largely in isolation. The afro coifed Darnell drew hardly a glance as he passed several food rationing stations, where men and women risked the perils of the night to camp out so they could be first in line when the stations opened in the morning. When the sowed seeds of hope around the world failed to yield spring crops, unrest spread and people everywhere began hoarding food, which only made matters worse. The press deemed it a result of a shifting in the magnetic poles, which had just begun. Just as the birds and bees relied on the magnetic lines encompassing the earth to find their way, so too did many plants in order to germinate, or at least that’s what was being reported.

All day Darnell searched like a mouse in a maze, going one way, then reversing himself as his senses corrected his path. Winding through the streets, Darnell’s journey led him into a historic city park full of olive trees. In the middle of the park was the most innocent and peaceful of courtyards, where the trail abruptly ended. There, two wooden benches sat facing one another beneath a large olive tree. Darnell scoured the site beneath a sun which by that time hung low in the sky. Darnell was an astute detective, and he knew if his senses, diminished as they were during the daytime, were correct, then there should be some evidence there of what happened to Nick. This was all more the case since Nick was a gifted mortal who could transmute to matter as he pleased. He would have put up a good fight. Thus, there should have been some evidence of a struggle. And yet there was nothing.

But perhaps the lack of evidence was itself the evidence he sought. Or perhaps, he simply needed to wait for the sun to set so that his other vision might fully take form.

As Darnell sat on the bench waiting for darkness to fall, he did his best to ignore the emotion of the moment, the fact that his dear cousin who was like a son to him, might be gone, and that this would no longer be a rescue mission. As twilight crept in, like many Nephilim, Darnell began to see the spirits of the recently deceased who’d not yet moved on. They wandered all about him, making their requests known. He’d seen them on countless evenings, but never had they vexed him as on this evening, and he offered them no reply as he anxiously waited on night. Never had a day taken so long to set.

At last, the revelation as Darnell deemed the transition of his vision from mortal to supernatural, came upon him. In the dark, not only was the supernatural world made plain, but Darnell could also see our world more fully, which was useful, since the evidence he sought was very much within our realm. Darnell rose from the wooden bench and stood tall in the night air. He slowly walked back and forth beneath the olive trees in and around the courtyard. On his second pass, he saw that the molecular composition of leaves on a particular branch of one tree, were not like the others. These leaves showed evidence of having absorbed proteins more commonly found in mammals, specifically humans.

Darnell gasped as he discerned the testimony of these innocent leaves. His cousin Nick had been vaporized right beneath the tree under which he stood. Darnell would have to tell the others, but in that moment, Darnell himself needed a moment. He landed hard onto the bench from which he had risen just minutes before, as his mind raced in a search for other possibilities which might explain away what his own, now watery eyes, told him was true. Seldom one to give up, Darnell realized that he had to accept this reality, and he knew that it was his duty to report back the only reasonable conclusion. Darnell’s head hung low as he placed the call. Hello? In the next moment two images took form before Darnell. To his left, an image of his cousin Kim, the mistress of electromagnetism, appeared, (sometimes referenced as the girl who shouldn’t be, since she was from the future). To Darnell’s right appeared my daughter, Rachel, the ageless warrior and sister of Nick.

Rachel spoke to Darnell first, Did you find anything?

Darnell paused for a moment, Yes, I did. I followed Nick’s trail to this olive tree grove, where his trail ran cold. But then… Darnell stopped before going on. Then, I detected animal protein, most likely human, absorbed into the leaves of one of the olive trees. We can do DNA testing, but…

The stunned image of Rachel raised her hand to her mouth as she collapsed to her knees, calling out, No, no, God no…

Darnell stood in silence as he watched the ghostly image of Kim walk over to comfort the grieving Rachel. In the midst of their collective sorrow, Darnell ventured a proposal to his cousins, Perhaps, Aunt Ruth was right?

Ruth was the last remaining Auntie in our clan and with the Elders missing, she was the only known alpha rated Nephilim left on earth.

Maybe we should just go back to Cloud Seven, and let whoever is doing this, come to us? Darnell suggested.

Cloud Seven was our name for the South Pacific Island from which Aunt Ruth, via modern technology, kept watch over the earth, to protect it from those in the multiverse who might want to do us harm. Over the previous three hundred years, Nephilim, at the direction of the Elders, had waged war against those who had historically threatened the earth. Many of whom had set themselves up as gods on earth, before our ancestors drove them out. Regarding these most recent events, the global calamities and the systematic elimination of those like us, there was little agreement on how to respond. Most of us believed the best response was to seek out whoever was behind this so that we might face them head on. The majority argued that if we waited much longer, there wouldn’t be an earth to save. But Aunt Ruth’s rationale for staying put on her island was that, given the nature of her gifts, her best chance was to play defense. Ruth believed it would be foolish for her to leave her island stronghold without a target in mind. To those who accused Aunt Ruth of not grasping the severity of the situation, she replied, No, it is you who do not understand. At this point, this is not about saving millions of lives, that battle is lost. The only question now, is whether humankind will survive at all!

At last, Rachel stood and carried on, after wiping the tears from her eyes, "No, we can’t abandon those we’ve sworn to protect. Remember our oath? Until we are no more, right? Kim and I are in route to speak with the Nightwalkers."

Technically, the Nightwalkers were the remnant of those we have deemed Neanderthals, the ones who managed to keep their bloodlines pure (at least more Neanderthal that homo-sapien). But by their own design, and for their own protection over the centuries, they cultivated the more commonly known term of Vampires. The most significant difference between them and their homo-sapiens cousins, was their longevity. And as such, they were not only knowledgeable regarding their own history, but ironically, they knew more about human history than any human. The relationship between Nephilim and Nightwalkers has been strained over the years, but in matters such as this, when the whole world was in danger, it was not uncommon for them to seek out one another. Occasionally, there were other ties as well. Rachel’s ex-husband was a Nightwalker, and from that relationship, so was her third child. Since the divorce, Rachel had not seen her ex, and had only seen their son on rare occasions, such as the funeral of her grandmother, Sarah. Rachel tried to steel herself again before speaking.

They should be able to tell us something and someone needs to tell… needs to tell, Elizabeth that he’s... Rachel broke down again.

Darnell wanted to call out across the divide, to somehow comfort Rachel, but he knew from personal experience that no words were worthy of such a task. His twin sister, Carla had been dead for nearly three hundred years, and still there were no words. So, Darnell remained silent while his cousins continued their grieving. Added to Darnell’s pain, was how he lost his sister. Rachel’s pain would be much like his, as all unaccounted-for deaths are.

Finally, Darnell softly offered, I have a source that I can reach out to while you guys check out the Nightwalkers.

Darnell realized that Kim must have been pretty shaken too, for the Kim he knew would not have let him get away with simply saying that he had a source. Not that anything she said would have altered his plan. These were desperate times, and the world was quickly slipping into the abyss. There was no more time for fumbling in the dark. They needed to know who was behind all of this. Darnell would pay a visit to the Oracles of Delphi at their current location, captive within the first level of hell, in the Pit.

At last, Kim lifted her face from Rachel and spoke towards Darnell, I’ve not heard back from Akina but I’ll reach out again. She can tell their father. The father, being referenced was me. My name is Michael, and I am the father of Nick, Rachel and Simon. Simon died many years before these events, but like any parent, I had hoped that Nick and Rachel, being ageless like me, might outlive me. (see The First Fall)

As Darnell ended the call, he couldn’t help but think about his third wife, Rose, who passed away the prior Christmas. Unlike Darnell’s first two wives, she was very tenderhearted (the other wives had been loving but strong willed). Darnell really missed Rose, but he took some comfort in knowing that she was not present to witness what happened to sweet, precious Nick, and what might very well be the end of world.

Starfall

Truth only takes root in fertile ground. – Big Mama

During this time of unexplained disappearances, fear gripped the people of the world like never before. Reports of people being snatched from this waking life, even in broad daylight, came from everywhere. Rumors spread like wildfire around the world and took life prowling the minds of many, as powerful as any reality. The explanations regarding these disappearances varied from some new pathogen which could devour a person in seconds, to some program by the governments of the world attempting to control the world’s population by forcibly interning citizens, before slaughtering them to feed back to the remaining herd.

Rachel and Kim landed at a private airport just south of Paris, France, not far from the gateway into the subterranean world of the Nightwalkers. As they exited their flight, Kim turned to Rachel, and asked, Are you gonna be okay? I can do this on my own, you know.

Rachel replied as her eyes watered, My brother gave his life for this. How can I stop? I don’t know how to do that.

The women, both of whom were several hundred years old, but appeared to be in their mid to late twenties, exited the small airport on foot. Together they entered a patch of woods just beyond the main drive. There, Kim removed her metal skateboard which protruded from her back pack. Both women climbed upon it, with Rachel wrapping her arms firmly around Kim from behind. Rachel spoke to her, Okay, let’s go.

Kim nodded and then proceeded to use her control of magnetism to lift the skateboard into the night air of a new moon. Exiting the woods and flying northwest they landed in a secluded forest. The women expected to be engaged by Nightwalker security as soon as they touched down, just yards away from the place where the portal would appear at midnight of each new moon (even then you must be facing north to see it). Instead, they arrived to the deafening sound of silence. Rachel and Kim gave one another a knowing glance as they proceeded towards the gate. Typically, it would be hidden until midnight when any Nightwalker who wanted an audience with the royal family could pass through. But there it stood in plain sight, well before midnight. Then Rachel noticed and pointed out to Kim, the ash which was sprinkled on the blades of grass around the gateway. With a second glance at one another, they communicated that the guards were likely all dead, with this ash being the only evidence of their being. This fact was enough for Rachel’s armor to take form around her, as she pulled her shield and sword from her back holster.

Entering the dark portal atop Kim’s skateboard, with only Kim’s personal illumination speaking against the pitch blackness all around, they descended the empty elevator shaft hundreds and hundreds of meters. Kim slowed as they neared what was left of the shattered elevator car. Stepping through the debris Kim illuminated her board and launched it above and slightly in front of them, so that their path might be clear. Even with Kim’s board brightly lit, it only revealed the ground before them and the walls beside them. So dark was this empire now that the light from her board failed to reach its cavernous ceilings.

Look, Rachel called as she knelt down, More ashes and it’s covering the walls as well. They must have been packed in here.

Kim responded, Yes, they came back here seeking the only refuge they knew. But instead, they only made it easier for whoever did this.

Still kneeling, allowing the dust to trickle through her fingers, Rachel was frozen in reflection.

Kim asked softly, Do you think Robbie was here when it happened?

Most likely, but I don’t know. Rachel answered, regarding her ex-husband.

And your son?

No, even for a Nightwalker, he was considered a loner. For once his paranoia may have spared him.

Everyone in the family knew that Rachel’s youngest, like many others in our house, was suffering from mental illness. However, being wealthy and never aging, he had a privilege which precluded him from many of the consequences faced by most battling mental illness.

Well, in this case, that’s good to hear. Kim replied.

As Rachel stood, she began to wring her hands in a half-hearted effort to remove the gray ash from her fingers. Who could have done this? With all the knowledge and weapons, old and new, that the Nightwalkers possessed, it would have been a formidable task to overtake them here.

Kim answered as she commanded her board to return from the outer darkness, No doubt. Let’s head to the throne room. I have a hunch I’d like to play.

Yes. Rachel replied. The Ebony Blade burst into flames and shined forward as Rachel lowered it along the path they were on, revealing their destination. Typically, any visitor fortunate enough to have an audience with the king would have boarded a rail car and ridden along the light rail to the royal hall. However, as it was, all that remained was the raised, naked rail which soared above the caverns below, where broken rail cars laid. So, they re-boarded Kim’s board and sailed over the caverns below, towards the darkness in front of them.

Reaching the throne room landing, Kim and Rachel hopped off the board and marched quickly into what was once the holiest of holy rooms for Nightwalkers. Kim spoke as they walked the dusty floor, There was a member of the royal court who befriended Aunt Deborah. Her name was Amanda. They remained friends and maintained contact over the years, even when relations between the Nightwalkers and us were at their lowest.

I remember Darnell saying something along those lines. This woman was related to them some kind of way. Rachel answered. (see Blood Ties)

Kim continued, Well, I’m hoping that she had time to leave us a clue as to who did this to them. With your bracelet, you may be able to see things that I cannot. Kim pointed towards the beautiful murals lining the walls of the throne. Kim laid her hand on what was left of a user interface which had fallen to the floor during the battle. Kim’s mastery of the electromagnetic force also enabled her to read bits and bytes with the touch of her hand. Hopefully, I can pull something of use from their network.

Rachel’s bracelet had the ability to show her what she needed to see. If she needed to see through a wall, then it was so. If she needed to translate a foreign tongue, then she spoke it as if it were her native language. (see Color Blind)

Nightwalkers had their own language, as many people do. But they also held on to an ancient form of communication based on symbols, which predated any written language. Innate within them was an ability to see embedded images within other images. They processed images differently from Homo-sapiens. It wasn’t better, just different. The modern-day equivalent might be printed optical illusions which shift as you stare into them, revealing a secondary image. But in the case of these Nightwalker images, it was said that one needed to be a pure breed Nightwalker in order to see the hidden images which often revealed a message. In fact, Nightwalkers used the deciphering of these images as a means to tell true Nightwalkers from the unworthy. Before the age of blood tests, it was an imperfect means used by the elders in ancient times since many a half-breed could and would pass the test. Nevertheless, it was all that they had