Lemuria by Burt Clinchandhill (most popular novels of all time .txt) 📗

a young age. Despite past career detours, his love for worldbuilding and the written word were rekindled into a furious blaze. He has since penned his acclaimed political thriller, Kursk, and its equally compelling sequel, 47 Hours, and will be releasing The Mogadishu Encounter in late 2020.

His irrefutable fascination for credible stories and true events is evident throughout all his fictional works, including the “Matthew Bishop” series of conspiracy thrillers/religious mysteries from Evolved Publishing.

Clinchandhill now writes full-time in the Netherlands, with his beautiful wife of 20 years. In his spare time, he enjoys sipping tea with a good book and delving into his own adventures out on open waters.

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Good or evil was never the choice.

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CHAPTER 1 – IN THE BEGINNING: VERSE 1.5

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Do you remember the old proverb about blood and water?

I always think of it when I recall the beginning. It is hard to believe such a simple phrase could explain our conflict. For my big brother, this proverb became the ultimate truth. It fueled his jealousy and hatred for those who sided against him. I was one of the many detested by him, though I was probably loathed the most. Like many others, I chose to put this old proverb to the test. For me, blood was important, but it was not the strongest tie that binds. In the end, I cannot tell you for certain which side was right. Whether this old proverb is true or not will always remain a mystery to me. However, I did learn one thing; even if blood is thicker than water, it can still pour like rain—a painful lesson my brothers and I were forced to learn.

I still remember standing in the red sand as the blood of my brothers poured down. The warm red rain was merely the beginning. Soon, mutilated and charred bodies toppled all around me. The stench of burned fleshed filled the air around me. I took a step back as my brother Aamon crashed directly in front of me. His body had been so badly burnt that I barely recognized him.

Extending his hand toward me, he whispered my name as if pleading for mercy. “Gabriel.”

I reached down and sliced his hand off with my sword. Once, he was my brother, but now he was my enemy. The time for mercy had long passed.

I quickly formed a halo and placed it around Aamon’s neck to bind him. I could not allow myself to be distracted. Neither Aamon nor the war in the sky above could deter my attention from what was happening in front of me. I stood before two titans preparing to battle one another. The outcome would decide our fate. Yet as important as this fight was, I knew not to interfere. I was merely a witness, insurance to make sure everyone else stayed out of their way. I waited patiently for one of them to strike, speak... do something other than glare at each other.

Finally, my big brother spoke. “Is this what you desired?” he asked calmly. “Look at us! The blood of our brothers stains our robes, our hands, not His! Yet here you are, little brother, standing against me when we should be standing together against Him! Michael, why do you stay loyal to one who has forsaken us for another?”

“I do not know,” Michael whispered just loudly enough for me to hear. I watched my brother slowly lift his hand and wipe away the blood that smeared his face. “I do not want this, but I did not start this either. That was you, Lucifer. Is this what you wanted? Is your cause worthy of the blood that stains you?”

I watched my big brother gather blood off his forehead and rub it between his fingers. “It’s worth every single drop.”

I was unsure what enraged Michael more, our big brother’s words or that damn smile on his face.

Michael erupted. “This is why Father wants you thrown out,” he shouted. “You say Father has forsaken us, but you have forsaken us!”

“No, little brother,” Lucifer replied as he wrung blood from his long black hair “It is you who has forsaken me, and now you are nothing more than an obstacle in my way.”

All the fighting above had ceased. Every Seraph and Cherub was now focused on the two of them. Chaos erupted in the skies above as all of the angels began chanting the names of their champion, each side trying to drown out the other. The sheer noise reminded me of the first time the two stood against each other at the Altar. It was just a game then. Now their fight decided our fate.

Michael reached inside his robe and grabbed his sword. The light from his blade caused me to shield my eyes.

“I do not want to fight you, Lucifer,” he shouted.

Lucifer snorted at Michael’s statement. “I would not want to fight me either. The last time we met, you lost.” Lucifer then plucked his two swords from underneath his red robe. “What makes you think this is going to end any differently than before?”

“It is not a game this time,” Michael answered. “There will be no offer to surrender.” Michael turned his head and glanced at us. “And this time I am not alone.”

Michael was right; he was not alone.