Blades Of Angels

By Arturo Miriello

In the first age of mankind, a magnificent sword made to protect becomes a mighty weapon of war. Fallen angels leave their heavenly abode for the natural world to corrupt the seed of men and lead them into wicked ways. The lineage of Seth struggle to remain pure and faithful to God as the growing menace seeks their end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Arturo Miriello
• Release date: Nov 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9798752721045

Arturo Miriello

Arturo Miriello studied in cinematography but then entered the computer industry. He's written short stories and screenplays. He's the father of four boys, of Italian decent, born in Montreal, Quebec, Canada.

Book preview

Chapter 1

THE OUTSIDER

It had rained for several days in the valley of Osag. In its midst, in the town of Jaich, the farmers kept busy in their homes while it poured. A road entered the valley and passed through the tiny town where an inn, a foundry, and other shops banked its sides.

As the evening approached and its failing light added to the already gloomy day, Anandun exited a shop of necessities and trudged through the muddy street carrying a heavy bag close to his chest. He was a tall young man with dark hair. His face had strong features with an angular jaw and piercing brown eyes.

When he reached the end of the main road just before it disappeared toward the wooded west, Anandun jogged to his home. The dwelling consisted of rock walls and stood one storey tall. It was one of the few large houses in the whole town and for good reason: Anandun’s father, Mupar, was the chief elder.

Anandun entered the house, and his family turned upon his arrival. In the middle of the living room, his father, sister, Cuny, and his brother, Brac, sat at the wooden kitchen table.

His mother, Layla, stood near the large fireplace with her left hand resting on her pregnant belly and the other stirring the contents of a boiling cauldron. She was a round-faced woman, and she kept her long brown hair tied in a bundle atop her head. Her pleasant smile always brightened a room or a gloomy day. Mupar was as tall as Anandun and well built, his brawn earned from hard farming showed through his clothes.

Cuny was a pretty girl and quite calm like their mother. Brac, the youngest of the family, was husky for his age, and everyone knew he would grow up to be a strong man. He played impatiently with his wooden spoon, tapping it against his empty bowl.

Lemile could only give me a yield, Mother, Anandun said as he removed his wet cloak.

It will do, she said and returned to the pot.

Anandun gave his mother the flour and sat at the table.

We will have to cut more wood, Son. It rained longer than expected, Mupar told him.

Yes, Father. I will do it tomorrow. Garmon needs my help tonight. I will go after supper, Anandun answered.

Very well, his father answered as Layla brought the steaming pot of soup to the table.

As usual, Layla served Brac first and then sat down for the meal.

Let us pray, Mupar said. Everyone bowed their heads and closed their eyes. God of all creation, we bow humbly before You and thank You for all You have done and for Your provision. Help us to always seek Your face in all we do and give us the strength to do Your will in peace and joy.

After supper, Anandun was dismissed, and he quickly put on his cloak and flipped the hood over his head. As he left the comfort of his home, the sweeping rain confronted him.

He sloshed toward the centre of town, thinking about the heavy rain that fell almost unceasingly over the last few days. Suddenly, the cry of a horse and the splatter of water against his legs startled him. He turned and came face-to-face with a horse. Anandun looked up at the rider. The horseman was hooded, and he could barely see the grim, unfamiliar face looking back at him.

Anandun wondered who could be riding so late at night. A glint at the stranger’s waist attracted his attention. Slightly protruding from the man’s cloak, Anandun distinguished the hilt of a sword. A sword! Stunned, he backed away. He looked again at the rider, his heart pounding with fear.

Is there an inn in this village? the rider asked.

Anandun could only nod and point in the direction of the inn.

With a nod of gratitude, the horseman urged his horse forward and left Anandun behind, dripping with water and his mouth agape. He watched the horseman arrive at the inn and tie his horse to the post. Two strides later, the stranger had gone inside.

A sword! Anandun thought with unbelief. A swordsman in Jaich! Such a thing had never happened before. Swordsmen were only spoken of by visitors from other towns or far-off lands. So, to have one in Jaich was quite an event.

Anandun then remembered his friends. He must tell them immediately. But would they believe me.

Bursting into a run, Anandun scrambled to the storehouse. The door creaked to a close behind him, and Garmon and his father halted their work at his abrupt entrance. Barrels of wheat and other grains lined the floor as shelves filled with goods covered the walls.

Hello, Garmon said.

Garmon was slightly heavy-set like his father. He had a boyish round face, dark eyes, and light brown tousled hair. His father, Ert, was a large man, if not the largest in the town.

Is something wrong, Anandun? Ert asked upon seeing his wide-eyed expression.

I-I saw a horseman. And he carried a sword!

Garmon appeared stunned, but his father looked troubled. They halted their work and gathered at the center of the storehouse.

Are you certain? Ert asked. His bushy eyebrows nearly met as he squinted concern.

As you live, Anandun answered.

By the Holy One! I would like to know what he wants here, Garmon wondered aloud.

I would— Anandun was about to agree when Ert cut in.

His doings are not our concern. He seeks rest after a long journey, I’ll wager. By morning, he will be gone and that will be fine with us.

Both young men felt dismayed at the thought as they hoped to know more about the stranger or, even better, to speak with him.

But, Father, maybe he can tell us what goes on in the region, Garmon argued.

Yes! Anandun added eagerly.

Syman will learn if he has anything worth sharing and then he will tell us, Ert stated. The stranger is a man of the sword and not one who seeks peace, you understand?

Both young men nodded, remembering their town’s strong vow to strive for peace with all men.

Very well. Enough of this fruitless chatter. Off to work, Ert ordered before returning to his work.

Garmon and Anandun looked at each other with disappointment and then glumly began their own work, lifting the heavy bags of grain onto shelves.

I hope we hear something tomorrow, Garmon whispered to Anandun, making sure his father would not hear.

As do I, Anandun answered, though he secretly wished he could talk with the swordsman.

I am sure Jol will speak with him, Garmon said confidently.

You think so? I doubt it, Gar. His father will not allow it.

After brief consideration, Garmon agreed.

Do you really think we will hear something from the elders? Anandun asked.

Garmon shook his head from side to side.

Sadly, and in silence, they continued their work.

*

Early the next day, Anandun noticed that the stranger’s presence had disturbed the small town. Not only were the elders meeting at Syman’s inn to discuss the matter, others could be seen chattering quietly.

Hiding his eagerness, Anandun skipped over puddles as he strolled toward the inn. It was a cloudy day, but it seemed better weather was not far away.

God’s morning, Anandun, a girl called to him, interrupting his thoughts.

Anandun turned to see Tira walking over to join him. Tira had light brown hair, and her tanned face bore her usual pleasant smile. She was a strong young woman with a supple frame and a little shorter than him.

God’s morning, Tira, he responded.

You heard of the swordsman? she asked.

Yes. I met him last night, he answered proudly.

"You met him?" Her eyes widened with surprise and her smile manifested her adoration.

Well, I did not truly speak with him, but he asked where he might stay the night, and I showed him Syman’s inn, he clarified, unwilling to create false rumours.

Did you see the sword?

Very little. It was dark.

Well, you are fortunate. Other than you, only Syman and his family saw him. He left very early in the morning, she informed him.

"I am going now to find out if anyone has learned