An Angel of Darkness - James Gerard (best free e reader TXT) 📗

Gillian stared at the streaks of light falling from the sky. Eyes locked onto the far horizon in amazement of the skylight’s ability to defend itself among the numerous and mighty skylights shooting their flaming arrows at the evil creature. But Gillian was not afraid; for the vision of its visit to the prison fortress burned in his consciousness every waking moment.

The entity had come to him unannounced, at a time when the prison’s frayed and tattered woolen blanket barely wrapped around his whole body in an effort to escape the bitter cold. The memory of awakening to the jailer’s clanking keys, the sight of the stone cell bathed in brilliant light, was an event he could never forget. With the memories playing out the scenes of those precious moments, he remembered how the shivers that had tortured his body for so long were gone; for the constant discomfort of aches and pains caused by the constant cold had melted away in the stony, frigid cell that had become warm and toasty. And closing his eyes, a smile formed as the vision of the jailer inserting the key to open the door to deliver a meal was as clear as can be. That is when Gillian realized that the so-called evil entity had enabled him to soundly sleep from just after eating the prior meal to the one that the jailer had been delivering. But as he thought about the last scene the eyes were cast down to the freezing floor. For as soon as the door opened the entity streaked away and the light and the warmth vanished.

Gillian always wondered why it had not attacked. After all, he was slated to be a sacrifice to tame its hatred for the people that dwelled in the Land of the Light. But there was something about it, something about how it acted contrary to the teachings of the Ancients that did not make sense. And all he could do now was to stand at the window and stare at the bright point of light in the distance and wonder why it had travelled from the land of darkness to visit him, but more astonishingly, why had it provided such overwhelming comfort to begin with. If he had been chosen to be an offering to it, then why did it not take him then and there? But the answer seemed insignificant.   What was more important was to satisfy the longing for yet another visit since he now believed it would not be for the extermination of his miserable existence, but rather a strange sense that it would once again provide such overwhelming comfort.

And while the memory was pleasant, Gillian found it haunting at the same time. Over and over again Gillian spent time just staring through the iron bars of a window to the distant skylight. Over and over again he searched out reason, dissected the memories of the oral traditions of the Ancients hoping to recollect anything that might have explained the loving nature of that visit. But all he could remember was how that the Ancients spoke of it only as the Evil Skylight, an entity that was under attack by a constant barrage of fiery flames flung at it by the Good Skylights intent on helping to keep it from destroying those that dwelled in the Land of the Light.

His thoughts then wandered to the greatest of skylights. Gillian turned and walked to a window where the soft glow of the fiery skylight was seen just above mighty mountains. Having lived his life under the Great Skylight’s protection, all he could consider is the steady stream of illumination and warmth it shined onto the Land of the Light. It, according to the Ancients, stirred up the Circle Sea and blew in the rain that watered the crops and provided drink for both cattle and people. The Great Skylight also provided the fish that swarmed the waters just off the villages where the mariners were free to cast their mighty nets.   And while the Great Skylight provided a steady stream of life-giving light, food and water, its permanent seat of power could not be approached.

According to ancient mariners, the Great Skylight dwelled high in the sky above the middle of the Circle Sea. There, its power was so great that it brought the water to a boil and therefore, as reported by certain sailors, burned any mariners and destroyed their ships with scalding water. And it was from there, as taught by scholars carrying on the teachings of the Ancients, that the Great Skylight itself mainly kept the evil entity confined to the eternal darkness by its sheer power. At least it was thought. The memory however, the realization that it had crossed the terminus and entered the Land of the Light had proved to Gillian that the Ancients and their scholars were somehow wrong.

Returning to the window framing the supposed evil entity, Gillian locked his eyes onto a torch lit road. The steady caravan of horse drawn carriages and wagons that had delivered the families of fame and fortune to the celebration of Light instituted by the Ancients had come to a halt. The road, just barely on this side of the Land of the Light, was a reminder to the Ancients’ privileged the fate that awaited them if they chose to question the laws and customs laid out long ago. The road empty, Gillian realized the celebration must have been ready to commence.

Hands clenched the iron bars at that very moment.   Clanking of keys and armor and the pounding of heavy boots on the stone steps confirmed the commencement of the sacrifice. Gillian jumped at the sound of the wooden door slamming into the stone wall. Looking one last time at the distant light, his eyes fell to the cold stone floor. He slowly turned around to face two tall and mighty men waiting to escort him to the line that marked the Land of the Light from the Land of the Dark.

Not a word was uttered as the two mighty men escorted Gillian down the stone steps. As he stepped out into the large square, frozen bits of icicles hit his face and the area erupted with the sound of snapping pennants and bunting furiously flapping in the wind. Eyes took hold of mirrors reflecting the fire from large torches. The beams of light zigzagged from mirror to mirror towards the mountaintop arenas.   There, as taught by the scholars, Gillian was aware that is where the Ancients’ honored the Great Skylight.   Guests and delegates sent from every village across the Land of the Light assembled to be both entertained and witnesses to the systematic sacrifice of many men and women who had committed seditious acts in the presence of the Great Skylight. But then, at that moment, he realized their fate was different. Even though the Ancients described their death not as an act of punishment, but an act of eternal forgiveness so graciously granted by the Great Skylight, his heart, however, ached over their fate.   Although he had yet to fully understand the true power of either the supposed wicked entity or Great Skylight, he wanted to scream out that the Ancients were bringing eternal death to those that had been promised eternal life.

Before he could shout his warnings, a tip of a spear in the back prodded him forward.   Gillian walked through the dark and gloomy gates to see a lone silhouette of an emissary of the scholars sitting in a buggy. Upon passing the emissary, the outlines of brave horsemen sitting straight and stiff on mighty stallions appeared as shadowy figures against the dark sky beyond. Ahead of them, just barely visible in the scant light, he locked his eyes on the iron vessel that would deliver him to the Land of the Dark and Dead.

In the direction of beastly silhouettes the sound of horses whinnying in the bitter cold stood ready to deliver the iron vessel to its launching pad. Upon entering Gillian felt with bare hands and feet the stinging cold of the vessel’s iron guts. Without notice the emissary walked up to the open door and began to utter the decree of the Ancients, but violent shivers prevented Gillian from hearing the words.

The iron door suddenly came slamming down. A crack of a whip sent the four horses forward. Although the unrelenting cold was in the midst of freezing both mind and body, Gillian gathered enough strength to maintain awareness and visualized the vessel as it was dragged straight ahead and passed the main road. He could only imagine the area gradually darkening until all remaining light from the Great Skylight vanished, a sight no living person had ever seen before.

Barely aware the vessel had come to a stop and the sounds of clanging metal almost imperceptible to the mind, Gillian realized the horses had been unhitched. A voice shouted out and the vessel lurched forward. The grinding of the metal vessel scraped across iron tracks. Grunts and moans from men straining to turn the wheel that would deliver the vessel to the top of the ridge were muffled. Finally, a sole voice shouted out and with a pull of a lever the locks released.

The vessel went speeding down a slope of ice. To Gillian’s surprise, the vessel’s freezing walls began to heat up and within seconds the guts of the iron beast was warm and toasty. At that moment he knew his hopes had been answered.

Gillian felt the momentum slowing and then the vessel coming to a complete stop. Immediately a hand groped around for the door’s handle in the dark chamber. Once found, the handle was pulled and as soon as the door opened he stepped out into a gentle, warm breeze.

Looking around he was amazed to see the countless vessels all glistening on the slushy terrain.   He went from vessel to vessel expecting to see the frozen corpses of past sacrifices, but none could be found. With a smile Gillian looked up and saw all the flaming arrows missing their target and instantly understood the errors of the Ancients.

Looking directly above, the supposed evil skylight became brighter and brighter. Without notice the slushy ice underneath his feet began to melt and the sky passed quickly between shades of dark blue until the brightest most bluest sky he had ever seen appeared. Its brilliant hue revealed a landscape that was lush and green and filled with all sorts of animals romping around fields of grass. And most amazingly, the skylight that was a terror to those in the Land of the Light was nowhere to be seen, yet he felt its presence all around him.

Overwhelmed by the feeling of warmth the knees buckled sending Gillian crashing onto a carpet of tender grass. He then heard a voice calling “welcome.” He looked up and there before him stood men and women, boys and girls. Tears rolled down his cheek.

A woman held out her hand and smiled, “Come Gillian, come and see your new home.”

“Why did the Ancients…?”

“Shh,” the woman whispered, “it doesn’t matter.”

With that Gillian reached up and took the woman’s hand. Standing up he took notice of all the smiling faces before him then looked up to the clear, blue sky and whispered, “But it matters to you.”