The Search for the Unfindable

[longstevo]

The remaining men stood ready to begin their way down the cave when Bishop Greco cried, “He’s alive!” Whirling around, Castillo saw the bishop kneeling at the young priest’s side. Sure enough, the young man was breathing, eyes open.

“My dear Thomas, you’re alive!” said Bishop once more.

Stammering, the young priest reached out and touched Greco’s face, “Father? Is it you?”

“Yes, my boy, you’ve returned to us,”

The remaining men gathered around the priest, offering their well wishes and prayers. The young lad finally rose to his feet, seeming to be rather unhurt. The smile on Greco’s face was unconcealable. Their small celebration was cut short by a distant scream echoing through the corridor.

Instantly, Castillo knew who it was, “Matilla!” The solo scream had no partner, giving cause for the captain to fear the worst.

“Come! We must hurry!”

With poor Thomas unable to gather himself, he was forced to keep up with the band of sprinting men rushing through the darkness. Leading the way with the torch, the captain rounded each bend, not waiting for his men to follow. Most kept pace with their leader. The two clergymen fell slowly behind, and struggled to keep from rushing into the back of the rear man when they all stopped.

Castillo stood in front of a crossroads. The path forked, one cutting away sharply to the right, the left path gradually turned and faded to darkness. He studied each trail, finding nothing specific about either. Where had his men gone?

Suddenly, a soft melodic song fell upon his ears. He jerked his head to the right. Someone was singing! A woman, down the right tunnel! Grasping his blade, he stepped towards the right path.

“Stop,” a voice that was not one of his men’s commanded.

Whirling around and unsheathing his blade, he was surprised to see a man walking towards him, following the left path. He stood tall, nearly six and a half feet, and was built athletically. He wore a simple gray cloak that draped over his shoulders and past his feet. He donned the hood so the brim came down nearly to his nose, concealing his identity. But what was strange, was this man’s cloak was adorned with a simple black cross. A sign of God!

“That path is not yours to follow,” continued the stranger. His voice seemed strange as well. It seemed to echo off the cave walls much more than his men’s voices did. It almost sounded like he was speaking with two or three voices, with each word echoing just behind the first one by less than a second. And the oddest thing about this new man, was Castillo felt no sense of dread from him. He felt no reason to fear the stranger whatsoever. He felt at peace.

“Have you seen my men?” asked Castillo, noting his voice sounded more or less normal compared to the newcomer’s.

“Their path is their own,” answered the stranger, once again with the echoing, “Your path is not theirs. That,” he pointed down the left branch, “is your path,”

“Where are my men?” asked Castillo. He didn’t feel the need for anger, or even frustration.

“They are in God’s hands now,” the stranger said, “You must continue on your way,”

“But my men…?”

“Their destiny is with the Lord,”

Suddenly, it donned on Arturo, “Are they dead?”

“They will stand by the Lord,” was all the man would say before continuing, “Your trials are not over. Ahead of you lies more tests to complete,” the man in the cloak turned away, then added, “More of your men have survived. They await your arrival at the end of the tunnel.

Nodding, and feeling no negative feelings about his men’s death, nor the stranger before him, he took a step towards the left path before turning and asking, “Who are you?”

“You will see me again, Captain Castillo,” with that, the stranger drew a beautiful sword that was hidden in the folds of his cloak, turned and walked down the right path towards the soft singing.

Dumbfounded, every man stood and stared as the stranger disappeared. None had words to say, as they all felt the same feeling. A sense of security draped over them, but one of mystery as well? What had just happened? Where were DeLuca and Matilla? Not feeling the need to know, they followed their captain down the cave.

[longstevo]

Following the winding path for what seemed like miles, the group finally came upon the end of the cavernous tunnel. Ending sharply, a granite wall rose up in front of them, offering a small entrance inside. Seeing no other way to proceed, Castillo ducked inside with his men following.

The ceiling of the small tunnel was just a hair taller than Castillo. Hans needed to stoop low in order to proceed, but the others continued without impediment. They passed nothing of any importance, as the tunnel revealed itself to be little more than a simple hole in the wall. Nonetheless, Arturo continued leading his men further into the cave.

Suddenly, without warning, the small path opened up once more, the walls stretching high above them out of the reach of the firelight. And the cavern proved to not be empty. As the men’s eyes scoured their surroundings, their hearts filled with wonder.

Glittering and shining in the flickering torchlight, piles of gold and other jewels stretched high upon the massive walls, reaching heights of nearly thirty feet. Emeralds, rubies, diamonds, and sapphires shined like miniature stars among the endless gold coins. Castillo leaned down to study the coins. They appeared to all have different markings, signifying each came from a different country, or a different time. ‘Strange,’ he thought, ‘for all this treasure to be located here, in this forlorn cavern on a forgotten island,’

“The Grail!!” cried Greco. Heads snapping, all men looked towards the bishop. He had not found the artifact, “Search for the Grail! This must be the place!”

The angel’s words echoed in Castillo’s mind, “Your trials are not over. Ahead of you lies more tests to complete,” The captain had turned those words around in his head over and over since the stranger had departed. He continued to fail to discover the meaning behind those cryptic words. Who was that man anyways? A shiver ran up his spine, and the captain turned to look behind him, but saw only darkness. A fast, unintelligible jabbering from Zebenjo brought his attention back to the massive trove of glittering jewels in front of them.

The African danced on the fringes on the firelight, jumping from one pile of gold to the other, grabbing handfuls of coins and tossing them about. Bending down, he grabbed two massive emeralds and held them in front of his eyes and looked back and smiled at the captain. With a yelp of glee, Zebenjo returned to his frolicking among the jewels.

Castillo frowned. He looked back at his other men. They seemed to sense it, too. Something was not right about this place. Instead of taking joy in the presence of so much treasure, they seemed uneasy. Castillo shared their uncertainty. But he could not put together the pieces. The captain stood by the bishop, watching Zebenjo fall into a pile of gold, laughing.

‘Before you lies a cave of sin. Upon reaching the other side, you will have proven yourself holy enough to…’ The words etched into the small Celtic cross at the mouth of the cave bounced inside Castillo’s mind. What did it mean? A cave of sin? They had seen nothing in this place. It was an empty cave, save the huge trove of gold and jewels. But the etching seemed to imply it had an end, and an exit. They had to press on.

But something held him back. An unseen force kept his legs from moving forward. He tried to step forward, but he could not force his foot to move. His heart began to pound, and he began to panic. “I can’t move,” he muttered.

“Neither can I,” answered Greco. Hans and Thomas replied the same. The four seemed to be frozen in place. Zebenjo continued to dance in the gold.

“Zebenjo!” cried Castillo, “Get back here!”

The African looked up, shrugged, and went back to his digging in the mountain of jewels. He didn’t seem to be affected by the affliction of the others. Carefree and gold-drunk, he was oblivious to all around him.

…cave of sin…trials to complete…not over…

“Zenbenjo!” shouted the captain. The others remained silent, yet looked on anxiously.

The African finally stood, letting coins fall freely between his fingers. He laughed again.

“Zenbenjo!”

…your path is not theirs…their destiny is with the Lord…

“Get back here!” Zebenjo simply ignored his commander. What was wrong with the man!?

…cave of sin…upon reaching…proven yourself holy enough…cave of sin…

At a loss for words, and seeing yelling was accomplishing nothing, the commander fell silent, watching his man throw jewels around like pebbles, when it suddenly hit him like a stampede.

The Seven Deadly Sins.

Lust, gluttony, sloth, envy, wrath, pride… the seven deadly sins, inscribed in the bible as the fastest way for a man to ensure his destiny in Hell. Castillo’s heart jumped in his throat. The seven sins included…

Greed.

Castillo watched his man begin to grab handfuls of jewels and shove them into his pockets. Getting worked up into a frenzy, Zebenjo grabbed and every jewel in sight, ignoring the gold coins, and stuffed them into his pockets. When his pockets filled, he began shoving them down his shirt. When the jewels began sliding out of his cuffs and collar, he removed his boots and socks, and filled them.

When every piece of clothing stood filled to the brim, the captain watched in horror as Zebenjo began placing rubies in his mouth and attempting to swallow them. The African’s breathing became ragged, his eyes wild, as he stuffed his mouth with jewels. He laughed as he tried to slip a large sapphire in through the corner of his mouth, slicing his lips terribly. He seemed not to notice.

With his mouth completely full of jewels, Zebenjo curiously laid upon the ground on his back. The clicking of the jewels grinding together in his shirt was audible, as was the sound of their sharp edges slicing into his skin. He produced a dagger from his belt and sliced his shirt open. The myriad of stones spilt forth, revealing a body cut from a thousand incisions. He seemed to feel no pain.

“NO!!” shouted all four men at once, as the African took the blade and jammed it into his abdomen. He jerked the blade upwards towards his heart, creating a large cut nearly a foot long. He only laughed at the pain through his mouthful of stones. He threw the dagger aside, and with his bloody hands, he grasped at the spilt diamonds and shoved them inside his fresh wound. Blood poured freely from his guts, mixing with the sparkling jewels on the ground.

The four men watched in utter disgust as their comrade lay on the ground, bleeding and shoving jewels into his stomach. He began laughing uncontrollably, as he shoved another handful of emeralds into his gut. Finally, he began to gag and choke. Writhing on the ground, he began to furiously grab more jewels and even coins and jam them into his body cavity even as he jerked violently. The last twenty seconds of his life were most disturbing, with the horrible laughing and blood flying every which way.

Finally, he lay still. The jewels around him sparkled merrily, despite being covered in blood. The bloody slit in his abdomen had turned into a ragged hole, cut from dozens to stones. The jewels resting inside his cavity bore no sheen or shine, as the man’s blood continued to pump around them. As did the jewels in his mouth.

“He passed filled with what he loved,” the stranger’s voice behind them didn’t startle the men at all. It was almost as if they knew he was there they entire time, and expected him to speak. Castillo turned calmly to see the same cowled figure approaching. Before he could speak, the stranger said, “Come. I will guide you. There is not much time. God is with your man now. He chose his path…” the echoing voice soothed the travelers, almost making them forget the violent death they had just witnessed, even as they stepped around their dead comrade, glittering from his true love.

[longstevo]

The robed man didn’t appear to need the torchlight, as his long strides kept him just outside of the reach of the flame. The men struggled to keep up, especially Father Greco. He stumbled and caught himself on Han’s shoulder. The warrior grabbed the bishop and helped him up, “There you go, Father,” he looked ahead to see Captain Castillo rushing to keep up with the stranger. Like his captain, the sergeant felt no need to question the man leading them. He felt at peace around him. Nor did he feel the need to question him about the fates of their comrades. With the words, “they are with the Lord,” Hans believed that they were actually in heaven, more than any priest he had heard in the past could make him believe.

“Sir! We need to rest,” called Hans to his captain. Looked back, Castillo saw the two clergymen leaning against the rock wall. Not accustomed to strenuous labor, they must be exhausted. Nodding to his man, he ran to the robed stranger and reached a hand out to touch him on the shoulder. As his fingers met the silken fabric his mind nearly exploded.

For a brief instant, the same image that had shown itself at the mouth of the cave manifested itself once more. It was the same image as when he touched the Celtic cross statue: a Templar knight, kneeling in front of a magnificent angel, being offered a skull. He jerked his hand away, his hair buzzing with electricity. That had not happened with the stone statue.

Turning slowly, the man whose face was still concealed, asked casually, “Yes?”

“Our clergy is exhausted. They must rest,” the captain declared.

“Are they tired?” he asked in a mocking tone, “Is this little jaunt too much for them? There is more at stake here than mere fatigue,”

Anger suddenly flashed in Castillo’s heart, but he was quick to suppress it, “As a matter of fact, they are. We are all tired, in case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve had quite a day. We’ve…”

The man in gray cut him off, “Actually I had noticed, Captain. I’ve noticed since the moment you sailed into these waters. In fact, you’ve had quite a life. I’ve been following you for some time, although it was not a choice of mine,”

Castillo stopped. This was the second time this man had addressed him by his name. But he had never offered it. Eyes squinting, the captain felt his fingers brush the hilt of his sword, “Who are you anyway?”

Standing without moving, the man only replied, “That is not important at this moment. All will be revealed in time,”

“And what of my two men back there? What happened to them, and what were you doing in there with your blade?” Suspicion and dread began to creep into the captain’s heart. The man had said his men had chosen their own path, and that they now stood with God. What did that mean? Had they been killed? Or did this man kill them himself? “What happened to my soldiers?” asked a heated Castillo, his voice bordering on shouting.

“I would advise you to lower your voice and take your fingers off of that blade, Captain,” warned the man.

“Who the hell are you? You’re down here in some God-forsaken land…” the captain had no chance to finish what he was saying. With a movement that was fluid as rushing water, the robed back took three steps towards him and pointed a finger right Castillo’s face. A strong gush of wind accompanied the gesture, nearly sending the captain backwards a few steps.

“God has not forsaken this land! He forsakes nothing! All is under his watchful eye, and nothing happens without his say!” The man said it so forcefully and with authority, Castillo had nothing to say in response. Electricity crackled in the air, and for the first time, the captain caught the scent of jasmine clinging to the man’s robes. The man’s voice fell, “You are merely a pawn in his massive plan, albeit an important one. Now come! We have very little time, and we must accomplish your next task quickly.”

With that, the gray robes whirled and strode off into the blackness. Looking back and without words, Castillo stared at his men, who were as equally as shocked. Saying nothing, the four men turned and hurried after the stranger.

[longstevo]

Despite not getting any answers from the stranger, the captain was hesitant to stand to close to him, for fear of what he might do. He had never seen a man able to set forth a burst of wind when speaking, especially in a windless cave. The gesture had genuinely frightened him, something that rarely happened. Instead, he fell back and assisted the struggling bishop, putting a gruff hand under his arm and helping him along. He looked to his right, seeing Hans on the other side of the bishop. He was glad his old friend had survived this long. Since the formation of their own Order, the two had rarely been apart.

The young Arturo’s decision to create the fighting order under his church’s banner came on a lazy Sunday afternoon. He was working in the fields of his farm, sweating from the hard day’s work. He thought about the service earlier that morning. It had been a nice service, with the local priest giving a pleasant sermon. The faithful exited the church for the day, but many would come back for an evening service. Arturo would have liked to, but there was so much work to be done in the fields, he could not spare the time. He hoped God would understand.

His twenty two year old muscles were chiseled from the eight years in the field. He had grown into quite a handsome young man. He noticed the young women in town stealing looks at him when they thought he wasn’t looking. He smiled at them, knowing that one day his future wife would present herself. Until then, he was focused on nothing more than plowing his crops.

A distant roar arose from just over the hill. Arturo knew that the ocean lay just beyond that same eastern hill, and wondered what could have happened to cause such a load, continuous sound. The answer soon presented itself in a massive wave of invading Moors. Running at full speed on foot, the soldiers wielded weapons of all sorts. Their intentions were clear.

The word spread quickly through town, and most of the town’s three hundred residents were soon packed into the only large stone structure present: the small town’s ridiculously magnificent church. Arturo among them, the residents were packed in like rats, screaming and crying for salvation as the invaders burned the buildings down around them.

Forcing his way to the alter where the priest was praying, Arturo grabbed the old man by the shoulder, “You’ve got weapons in the church basement, yes?”

The priest only smacked the young man away, “The sword is not God’s way, child!”

Pointing outside, Arturo replied, “In case you hadn’t noticed, the sword is THEIR way, and we must defend ourselves!” the priest continued to pray, ignoring Arturo.

“Father, you must save these people!”

“God will save us, have faith,” he muttered, “For the sword is not the instrument of God, I will save us,” the priest continued babbling. He strode to a window and opened it before preaching to the ransacking vandals outside.

“Hail, children of God!” that was as far as he got before his chest was perforated with five arrows. He fell backwards, and a burning torch followed. A cry of despair arose from the people inside, as they panicked and opened every window and door and began pouring out into the streets and fields.

The Moors cut them down one by one.

Seeing what was happening, Arturo grabbed as many people that would listen to him and led them into a secret basement under the church’s alter. He had found it many years ago while serving as an alterboy. In there, he hid with fifteen other survivors, including Hans Gottschalk, and waiting for the murderers to leave.

In that moment, Castillo left God. How could He forsake His children to Satan’s forces like that? He vowed to never become weak and cynical like that priest. Never again would evil men prey upon this town. As people began filtering back into the town to repopulate it, Castillo recruited the young men and formed The Order of the Sun, a band of men under one flag sworn to the protection of the people.

In time, Arturo came back to God, and his Order was sworn to the service of God, as high ranking bishops and clergy traveled through and were impressed with the sharp young officer and the disciplined force. The recruited them to guard the religious caravans to and from Rome, and from that humble beginnings, Castillo’s militant force began spreading their religious protection over the coast of Spain and stretching it to Rome. He had created an Order of religious fighting men akin to the old Templar Knights, serving in the forlorn deserts of Jerusalem.

[longstevo]

Following the stranger closely, Castillo waved his torch against the encroaching darkness. Even more so than before, the thick blackness seemed to close in around them, suffocating them from any source of light, including the torch. The captain reached his hand out, expecting to feel some sort of blanket wrapping around them.

Bishop Greco stumbled. The tired old man was beginning to fade quickly. His bones were not accustomed to such exercise, and it was becoming evident. Hans was doing what he could to assist, but short of picking the bishop up and carrying him, he was doing all that he could.

“Come, we’ve not much time,” the stranger said, barely turning his head to say it and continued with the strenuous pace. The fast walk was becoming a little exhaustive even for Castillo. But he dared not say anything to the robed man, fearing an outburst like the last one.

The stranger began walking while they moved, “This cave is an intricate network of tunnels and caverns,” he began, his already echoing voice bounced off the walls even more so, creating a thunderous sound. “A common traveler is meant to traverse a certain path, and without knowledge of the hidden turns and corners, it is easy for him to follow the directed path, the one you were on.”

He continued, “The cave holds a number of…tests, if you will. Two of which have already claimed your men. Each test is based on the Seven Deadly Sins. Hence, the Cave of Sins you read about on that small statue at the mouth. Your two men fell to Lust. While your last man fell to Greed. The other rooms that contain the five remaining sins we have already passed. You were meant to travel through them all, but as I said already, we’re quite short on time.”

Castillo was about to ask a question when they turned a final corner and the stranger said, “All will be explained in time. Trust men. Until then…” they suddenly came upon a wooden door bored into the cave wall. Reaching out, the stranger grasped the handle, and with hardly any effort, opened the door wide and allowing his travelers to pass through.

“We are here,”

[longstevo]

Chapter Five
The Land of Gods and Devils

The old door creaked open to reveal more inky blackness inside. Disappointed, Castillo didn’t know what he expected on the other side of the door, but he was sure hoping it wasn’t more darkness. Sighing, he stepped forward.

“I cannot accompany you inside. What you will find in there is for you. I cannot assist,” said the stranger clearly. Nodding, Arturo entered, followed by Hans and the clergy.

This new chamber had a different feel to it. He couldn’t put a finger on just what was different, but this section felt less…forlorn. Despite the torch’s valiant effort to fight off the suppressing black, it began to flicker. Their light source was not far from dying. Stepping off quickly, the captain led the way, attempting to get as much ground covered as possible.

They rounded one corner only to come to a second door. Grasping the handle, Castillo pulled it open and was shocked by what he saw.

Past the door was a small alcove, no larger than six feet square. It was ablaze with nearly one thousand candles placed on shelves reaching high to the ceiling. Placed in the center of the small room was an altar nearly four feet high. Jesus Christ hung from a miniature cross hanging on the front side. A golden bowl sat on a small perch half way down the side of the granite pillar. It was full of water. Inscriptions and words decorated the sides of the stone pillar. Other than the altar, the cross and the bowl of water, the small room was empty.

Bishop Greco had already begun translating, “Here you stand, on the Lord’s doorstep, and yet you are so far from your destination. Pray! Repent for your sins, beg for forgiveness, and pray for acceptance. Only if found worthy, will you continue on this quest. Drink from the Holy Water placed upon this alter by the Lord’s warriors so it may search your soul and truly find if you deserve. Pray!”

The small room was silent as the four men turned those words over in their own minds. It would seem that the Templars, or whoever left all the cryptic clues had been here too. It appeared this was the end of the tunnel for them, and seeing no other option, Captain Castillo knelt. Reaching for the bowl, he pressed the rim to his lips, and drank.

The water tasted normal, like it was fresh from a spring creek. It was cold enough to burn his teeth on the way down, but it was so welcome after their long ordeal. He passed the dish to Greco, who did the same. Hans and Thomas each drank also, before placing the bowl back onto the alter. Castillo noticed that despite four men taking water, the dish still seemed full.

Shrugging, he clasped his hands and prayed.

He recited only one paragraph of his repentance prayer when he started to get dizzy. He shut his eyes tighter and tried to concentrate on his prayer. The room started to spin even faster. Before he could open them and try to catch himself, he fell and his world faded to black…

[longstevo]

Arturo Castillo was swimming through a dream. He saw his life pass before him in slow motion. He saw himself slaving away in the fields of his grandfather’s farm. He relived the moment of his grandfather’s passing, his mischievous teenage years alongside Hans Gottschalk and the horrible day the infidels invaded his home. His prestigious military career then stretched out before him, revealing to him his numerous victories against the Moorish Muslims, his service to high ranking clergymen, and his charity work within the church.

One thing his life did not reveal to him was a happy family life. In fact, once the Moors massacred the remaining members of his family, he shunned women and other close friends out of fear of losing them. He had never married, nor even attempted courting a woman, preferring to express himself in his service to God and warfare against the Lord’s enemies. He was a lone wolf, and he liked it that way.

The slideshow of his life came to their current adventure, and despite preferring not to see the horrors again, he watched as his ships burned into the ocean, his bloody men and demons, and the thick darkness that dominated the recent hours. But something new appeared to him. Something he didn’t remember.

He saw a lone figure walking down a well-lit granite hallway. The walls were clean and smooth, save for the occasional cross hanging from the stone. The figure was draped in white, complete with a hood covering his face. He assumed it was the stranger that accompanied them through the cave. The figure approached an altar at the end of the hallway and knelt, clasping his hands in prayer.

A second man approached from the opposite side of the stone altar, also dressed in a white robe with hood. Adorned to this man’s chest was a simple black cross. This was the stranger. Who was kneeling, then? The standing figure reached up and removed his hood, revealing a very handsome man with long and flowing blond hair. His features were striking. Castillo could not stop admiring the man standing before the kneeling figure. He noticed that despite the images being crystal clear, he could hear no sound from the men he was watching.

The kneeling man followed suit and removed his hood. The long, slightly curly locks of black hair revealed the man to be Castillo himself! He was shocked, yet mostly intrigued. What was this?

Without warning, the blond haired man in the dream sequence grasped his cloak at the neck and ripped it from his body. With a strong gust of wind and an explosion of light, the blond haired stranger spread his arms wide. But that wasn’t the only part of him stretching out to either side. Beautiful, feathered wings reached out nearly six feet to his left and right. The stranger was an angel! The scent of jasmine invaded Castillo’s nose.

Adorned with Roman style armor inlaid with silver and gold, the angel was a beautiful creature indeed. He was just as Arturo imagined an angel to look. An exquisite sword hung in a scabbard on the angel’s hip. Reaching into a satchel hanging from his opposite side, he produced a skull.

It finally hit Castillo. This was the vision he saw outside of the cave! Except, instead of a Templar kneeling before this angel, it was him! Questions began to pound his dreaming mind as the vision faded.

“Stand,” the voice came not from the vision, but from his human ears.

The captain strained his eyes to see the picture clearly as the angel leaned down further, offering the skull to the praying Castillo.

“Arise, Son of God,”

He fought his awakening, attempting to remain with the vision.

“To your feet and accept this duty,” Castillo recognized the voice as the stranger, or the angel.

Blackness fading from his eyes, Castillo opened them to see. The first thing he noticed was the granite pillar in front of him. The same pillar from the vision. Looking up, knowing what he was going to see, yet hoping that it wasn’t, he saw angel standing on the opposite side of the alter, holding the skull. The angel spoke again.

“Stand, Arturo, Son of God,” the echoing voice of the angel softly invaded his ears. Castillo found that his hands were clasped. Unfolding them, he pressed them against the cold granite and lifted himself to his feet. He found he was dressed in a cool satin robe. Where his armor and other gear were, he could not say.

“In the name of God and Jesus the Christ, I present this artifact. It is powerful, and must not be misused,”

Castillo’s head was still spinning from his dream. What was going on? He just saw himself go through this ritual, but from someone else’s view. And now a heavenly angel was presenting a skull of all things? Too many questions bombarded his tired mind, but questioning an angel seemed unwise. So he reached out and grasped the skull, which he found not to be made of bone, but of a smooth crystal. As he brought it close to his eyes to study, he saw that it was, in fact, completely made of crystal, and it glowed ever so softly a light red color.

His vision faded again with the angel’s words echoing in his head.

“You are now in service to the Lord in Heaven…"

[longstevo]

This time, Castillo did not dream. His eyes fluttered open with a start and he gasped for a breath as if he had been drowning. He heaved his chest up and down, trying to get more air into his empty lungs. For a moment, he had felt as if he were suffocating. It was very frightening. Finally, when he calmed down, he was able to observe his surroundings.

He was in another chamber of sorts. Several men were standing nearby, conversing with each other. They stood around a short table, and all were dressed in white robes. Four men appeared middle aged, while two were quite elderly. They all wore expressions of concern as they turned their attention to him.

Seeing past the individuals, he could see through windows. These windows allowed Castillo to see he sat in a round rotunda, and judging by what he saw outside these windows, they sat high on a cliff overlooking a scenic valley. Surrounded by mountains, peaks and cliffs, the valley stretched out before them into peaceful grasslands. They rolled on into the horizon, where they stopped underneath a dark cloud. He could see no farther.

“Stand, Son of God,” the angelic voice that had guided them through the cave sounded from his right. Twisting his head, the captain saw that it was, indeed, their guide. He was once again wearing his white robe. Pointing, Castillo asked in a wavering voice, “Are you…an angel?”

The angel smiled and reached down to help him up, “Yes. You may call me Gabriel,”

The human captain grasped the outstretched hand and was yanked to his feet easily. He noticed the weight of the crystal skull hanging from a new satchel on his right side. Gabriel placed a heavy hand on his shoulder and pointed to the other men in the room.

He pointed to each man as he said their name, “That is Michael. That is Raphael, Phanuel, Selaphiel. And those two are named Jegudiel and Barachiel,” Each man nodded when identified. The two older men were not named. Arturo recognized the names immediately.

The Seven Archangels.

Instinctively, he fell to his knees and threw his arms out in front of him, “Heavenly Father…”

“Oh, get up!” snorted the angel named as Michael.

Shocked, Castillo slowly rose to his feet, but kept his eyes glued to the floor, “I am at your service, my lords,”

“Captain Castillo?” began Raphael with a voice that was a little higher in tone to Gabriel’s, but echoed the same.

“Yes, my Lord?” answered Castillo, continuing to avert his eyes.

“Why do you not look at us?”

“My eyes are not worthy of such beauty. I do not belong in this House of God,”

Although Arturo did not see it, Raphael rolled his eyes. Michael strode forward until he was standing right in front of Castillo. He reached up with his hand and firmly grabbed the captain by the jaw, ripping his eyes from the floor to his own. Castillo had no choice but to stare into those eyes that were the color of the ocean.

“Listen, Captain,” began Michael in a tone that was not forceful, yet remained menacing, “We have no time for formalities here. On another day, you would bow to any of us and sing the Lord’s praises. But this day. For as our brother has already told you, we are short of time. Until told otherwise, you will interact with us as you would a fellow officer, yes?”

Castillo nodded feebly. Michael continued, “If you were not deemed worthy, you would still be wandering in that foul cave and not here among angels and saints. You are here because you proved yourself, and you are here because you can do a mighty service to the Lord. Now, relax,” He was released by the archangel. Michael walked to the table in two might steps before turning and saying,

“Now, Captain Arturo Castillo, will you come and be briefed into the Army of God?”

[longstevo]

Castillo stepped forward cautiously. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever expected to be invited to a table of angels. The nine men stood around the table eyeing him closely. Raphael smiled slightly and beckoned him with a welcoming gesture. Gabriel put a heavy hand on his should and ushered him forward, forcing a step from the reluctant captain.

“Come, if we’d meant you harm, you would have known that by now,” said his former guide. Swallowing heavily, Castillo finally joined the angels at the table.

“Good,” thundered Michael, “Alas, I am sure you must have a question or two. You are somewhat confused yet, yes?”

Castillo nodded as the angel continued bluntly, “Heaven and Hell are at war. While you may think that this is always the case, it is not. Heaven and Hell exist in relative peace most of the time. God has more than enough power to vanquish the evil Lord Satan, but he knows that as disdainful as it may be, the Kingdom of Hades is necessary to the balance of human life on earth,”

Castillo’s eyes furrowed, obviously not understanding. “Balance,” repeated Michael, a hint of frustration in his tone, “Without evil, there can be no good. Think of it this way, if man were not witness to the horrors of evil, would he not turn towards the graciousness of God?” He waited for a response but continued before receiving one, “No, I’m afraid that if the Kingdom of God is to exist at all, the Kingdom of Hell must survive as well. For if there were to be no evil and only good, and then soon, the good becomes stagnant. And soon after that, the stagnant turns to evil anyways. So you see, Son of God, Hell is a necessary piece of this world,”

Castillo nodded, beginning to understand. Michael continued, “But, Satan must be kept in check, for much like the forces of good cannot run amok, neither can the demons of Satan. This plane you stand on exits to allow Heaven and Hell to coexist in a singular location,” Castillo’s brow frowned again, “Yes, you are correct,” said Michael, “You no longer stand on Earth. The moment you knelt and prayed in the cave, you were accepted into our ranks and transported here. This is Heaven, Captain. But it is also Hell,” the angel pointed across the rolling plains towards the foreboding horizon, “Across the Plains of Kings lays Hades. There you will find Satan’s doorstep,”

“But, as I was saying, the fiend Satan must be looked after, for he is constantly trying to find a way to let loose his demons upon Earth. And his latest stunt is his most daring. He possesses the ability to take on various forms, allowing him to appear as another being. Using that power, he infiltrated our fortress and stole an artifact of immense power,”

“The Grail of the Christ,” interjected one of the wrinkled old men standing across from Arturo.

The shock and surprise at the angel’s telling of the Grail’s theft was overtaken by the news of the old man’s identity. Raphael motioned to the old man, “Captain, this is St. Peter,”

The captain almost fell to his knees in prayer as he did upon seeing the angels, but feared the angel Michael’s response. He merely placed his hand above his heart and bowed slightly. He was surprised when the old saint returned the gesture.


“The Cup of the Christ, or the Holy Grail as you call it, rested in these hallowed halls for hundreds of years, until its theft recently. The simple chalice possessed untold power. Even we are unsure of its abilities, as we seek only to guard its existence. Satan, on the other hand, wishes to unlock its power,”

Castillo was surprised to hear his own voice sound out over the table, but his confusion was getting the best of him, “What gives this chalice its power, Father?” The kindly old man winked before quipping, “Pour the blood of the Son of God of All Things into a simple cup, and then ask me that again,”

Castillo nodded. Obviously, the Son of God had no ordinary blood coursing through his veins.

Michael continued, “Immediately upon his impish hands resting upon the sacred cup, we knew of its theft. We chased Satan halfway across the Plains of Kings before he took refuge in the Tower of Babel. That creation is a massive pillar of stone erected by us angels as a guard post of sorts, to ensure the minions of Hades don’t cross the Plains. We battled him for days, finally chasing him back into his own kingdom. He left the Grail at the tower, but not before putting a curse on it. His curse will turn any of us angels evil if we touch it, and no mortal man may come near,”

Gabriel piped up, “But, if a man approaches bearing an icon of the devil himself…” he let his voice trail off but motioned to the satchel hanging from Castillo’s side that contained the Crystal Skull, “We believe that if you approach the cursed Grail in the possession of an artifact of Satan himself, his power coursing in the skull will cancel out the curse, allowing us to regain possession of it,”

Castillo ran his fingers over the satchel, feeling the skull warm itself at the mention of it. He nodded. He could serve God himself! He could achieve his life’s dream. Since he was a boy, he fantasized about serving the Lord personally. This was a way he could achieve it. Reclaim the Holy Grail, and he was almost assured a spot in heaven. Wasn’t that the goal of any red-blooded Christian?

“I shall do it,” declared Arturo, even though he still had dozens of questions bouncing around in his head. The men around the table nodded in approval.

“I must warn you,” said Michael, “It won’t be as easy simply flying you out to the tower and you grasp the Grail. For I’m afraid that as we speak, the Armies of Hell march upon the Tower of Babel and beyond. They mean to collapse these very walls we stand in,”

Castillo felt his military side coming out, “What do their forces number?”


“Satan’s demons and minions number into the thousands,” answered Raphael.

“And who do we have to fight them?”

Gabriel spread his arms, motioning to the angels in the room. Castillo’s jaw nearly hit the floor. Seven against one thousand? “Surely you must be…”

“But for the grace of God, we can count another ally on our side,” declared Michael. He turned away from the table and towards a door Castillo had not noticed. He opened it and said through the cracked door, “Captain de Amor, come inside,” the angel Michael returned to the table, but Castillo’s eyes were glued to the open door, awaiting the arrival of the unseen guest.

He finally arrived, and when he walked through the door, a million other questions sprang forth into Castillo’s mind. Heavy steel boots echoed against the bright sheen of the granite floor. Chainmail leggings were neatly bloused at the cuff of the boots. Chainmail sleeves also fell from his shoulders and followed them down to gauntlet-wearing hands. An exquisite sword rested at his side in a beautiful scabbard. A thick man at the neck, a large, bushy red beard hid most of his facial features, but could not hide a huge smile that crinkled his eyes. Castillo would have admired the rest of his armor, but he could not. It was hidden by a long, flowing gown that fell to just above his boots. It was as white as the angel’s robes, save for a bright crimson cross flared at all ends. The cross rested just above the man’s heart and traveled down to below his belt.

Castillo was staring at a Templar Knight.

[longstevo]

The two Christian warriors stared at each other. Castillo wore an expression of utmost confusion, while the Templar smiled welcomingly. The Templar clasped his hands in front of him as if in prayer and bowed his head slightly.

“Welcome, brother,” the man’s voice was gravelly and rough, and Arturo could not place his accent, “There is no need for fear, for this is the House of Our Lord.” He spread his arms wide.

“Go with Captain de Amor, Arturo,” coaxed Raphael in his echoing voice, “For we have business to attend to. He can answer your questions…all of them,”

Castillo looked back at the gathering of angels and saints and saw that they had returned to their huddle around the table. The archangel Raphael was the only one facing him with a comforting smile. Castillo felt at peace. It was then he noticed the overpowering scent of jasmine hanging in the air. With a smile, Raphael turned towards his brethren and leaving Castillo to his own.

Castillo turned towards the Templar knight. Long had he dreamed of serving in the glorious Wars of God alongside this famous order. Tales and legends of their deeds sang forth from every tavern and inn throughout the known world. Many people associated the Knights as warriors sent forth from heaven, instead of the very mortal men they were. They were legendary, tried and true in the fires of battle against the hordes of the devil, the Saracens. And now, when he was finally faced with one, no words found their way to his lips. Finally, when they did, he sputtered, “I’m Arturo Castillo, captain of…”

“I know who you are. Gabriel informed me. Come, let us walk,” offered the stout captain de Amor. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Castillo, but outweighed him by nearly thirty pounds. Arturo was sure it was all muscle under his armor. He walked with a sort of swagger, as if he carried an air of authority, but Castillo knew this to be preposterous. How would a man hold authority in the House of God and in the presence of angels? “I assume you have questions…” the remark was accompanied with a smirk. The two walked through glorious marble hallways as they conversed.

“What,” Arturo began, “is going on?”

De Amor laughed, a jovial sound that bounced his shoulders up and down as his chest heaved. “Do you not know? You are in heaven!”

“But why? I have not died,”

“Ah, true. No doubt, you followed our clues,”

“The cryptic riddles in Columbus’ journal, as well as the markings on the wall and such?”

De Amor nodded, “Yes, yes. Clever, huh? We left those markings and riddles behind in our wake so one day, a worthy man such as yourself would walk in our footsteps, and find us.”

Castillo was beginning to become excited. He was finally on his way to uncovering answers. He reached out and set his hand on the de Amor’s shoulder, stopping him. They stood underneath a huge overhang in the marvelous marble hallway. The cavernous tunnel was full of similar structures, each one supporting a beautiful statue of a different saint. Castillo did not notice, he stood nearly nose to nose with a Templar commander.

“Captain de Amor,” began Castillo. The knight held up a hand.

“Please, call me Carlo. There are no ranks or titles here, my friend.”

“Very well. As I am sure you can understand, I am quite disoriented. One moment, I find myself traveling through a mysterious cave with an equally mysterious gentleman, then I am whisked away to some unknown land. My equipment is missing, as are my men, and I am confronted with a gathering of heavenly angels requesting that I assist in some fantastic war between Satan and God and now I am talking with someone who should, in all expectations, be dead!” he paused to take a breath, and found himself a little put off with the large smirk upon Carlo’s face.

“My brother, such is the wonder and glory of God, that he can work things that will simply, for lack of better words, boggle your mind!” The Templar’s eyes crinkled with glee.

Taking a sigh, Castillo remarked, “I see that your speech is just as cryptic as your clues,”

Carlo laughed, “Very well. Shall we sit?” he motioned to a nearby bench that Castillo had not noticed before. He took a seat next to de Amor.

“Simply put, you are in heaven,” he began, “But unlike popular belief, heaven and hell are not separate, but exist on the same plane in an alternate reality, of sorts. They are located on opposite sides of this existence, so each Lord of his own domain may do with it what he pleases,” he stopped and gestured towards the glorious hallway, “This is the work of God, our Lord. However, the…decorations of the other lord are far less…appeasing.”

Castillo figured he was referencing Satan. He took a moment to ask, “If this is heaven, where are the saved souls?”

De Amor answered, “Inside the walls of his massive kingdom,” he chose not to discuss the topic further, so he moved on to further explanation of his situation.

“As I am sure Gabriel and the others explained to you, the dark Lord Satan is preparing open war upon the Kingdom of Heaven. He has stolen the only remnant of the Lord Christ’s existence on Earth…”

“The Grail!” interrupted Castillo.

“Yes. The chalice was imbued with unimaginable power when touched with the blood of God’s son. Even the Lord doesn’t know the extent of its power. But Satan wishes to unlock it for himself. So he stole it. He almost made it back to his dark kingdom, but God’s champions, the angels, chased him into the Tower of Babel, where he was forced to leave it and retreat to behind his own walls. But he cursed the Grail. Any being of heavenly flesh is unable to come in contact with it. If they do, they are immediately claimed by the Dark One. Our brother Sephriel is battling for his existence right now at the top of the tower,”

“Angels are unable to touch it?”

“Aye, and neither can I or my men,”

Castillo held up his hand, “Your…men?”

De Amor’s eyes crinkled once more, “Aye. I shall explain that. But let me explain something else first. I said Heavenly Flesh is unable to come in contact with the device. That includes me. Upon my passing from the mortal world, I was accepted into the Lord’s Army. It is my duty, for all eternity, to protect these hallowed walls from the invading hordes of Satan. Only the best are chosen for such an honor. Warriors who fight with the spirit of God, and not the greed of man, nor bloodlust, are offered this glorious opportunity. That is why you will not find many Crusaders in this place,

“Not every man who fights under the banner of the Lord does so because he wishes to defend the Holy Land. Nay, he fights for money, and for blood, and other worldly reasons. Even Templars were guilty of this. But myself and my men were not guilty of such. That is why we prepare for battle at this very moment.

“Never mind, I have let myself wander. Let me get back to what I was saying. Since we have passed away, and now fight as heavenly warriors, we are now made of heavenly flesh. Therefore…”

Castillo finished his sentence, “You are unable to hold the Grail.”

De Amor nodded, “But…you have not died, nor have you been accepted into our ranks. You are still human, but walking amongst Gods, so to speak,”

It suddenly donned on Arturo, “I have been summoned here to retrieve the Grail from the Tower, because I am not of heavenly flesh. I may hold the Grail safely and return it to these hallowed walls?”

De Amor clapped once, “Right, lad!”

Castillo nodded thoughtfully. More questions kept coming to him and drowned the immense responsibility of what was just lain upon him. He needed answers before he could focus.

“Wait. Let me go back to the beginning. How did you guys find this place?”

De Amor finished his thought, “How did we know to bring the Grail from France to this island?” Castillo nodded. “Simple. I saw a vision. God sent me a vision and directions of how to arrive here. Once we landed here in our shoddy ships, the archangel Gabriel met us upon the beach to show us the way. He brought us to the Cave of Sins, and informed us that it was up to us to find the way through. The cave was created by the angels to ensure that no one impure of heart found their way to Heaven’s doorstep. We lost many men in the cave as they fell to various temptations, but many still made it to the end, and to here. For bringing the Grail back to the Heavenly doorstep, we were immediately slain by Gabriel’s blade. But that was necessary for us to exist here. And now that we are here, I would not trade it,”

“So that cave…” Arturo trailed off.

“That cave is the final guard keeping everyone from entering heaven. For one to find this hidden island is a feat in itself. And for them to survive the demons on the surface is another thing. Satan’s minions are allowed to run free on the island. They don’t even know they are guarding the entrance to this place. Stupid things… And if one does make it through the jungles, they most certainly will not resist the alluring desires of all Seven Deadly Sins. I believe you lost three men to Lust and Greed?”

Castillo nodded. “Do not worry,” said de Amor, “Their souls have been allowed into heaven for their past service to God. They have been allowed repentance,”

De Amor suddenly stood, “Come. There will be more time for questions later. There is someone I wish for you to meet,”

Frowning, Castillo followed suit. They made their way down the hallway until they arrived at a set of massive wooden doors. De Amor grasped the handle and pulled it open. The heavy slab silently swung inward, opening to a massive marble cavern. The ceiling rose nearly two hundred feet in the air. It domed at it’s apex. Glorious paintings and carvings of biblical characters decorated every square inch of the room. But it was not the paintings the caught Castillo’s attention.

They walked out onto a landing that jutted out above the floor of the room about fifty feet up. From there, Castillo could see the floor stretched for hundreds of yards. But he could not see the floor itself.

Every square foot was occupied by a Templar Knight, standing at attention.

Winking, de Amor looked back at Castillo, “My men…”

[longstevo]

Each Templar knight stood motionless, head bowed with hands clasped deep in prayer. They were fully suited, as de Amor, with armor and Templar cloaks. No helms were worn, and many different styles of hair were apparent. With just a quick estimation, Castillo thought there to be nearly one thousand souls in the room.

In a low voice, Castillo turned to the captain and asked, “How has there come to be so many men? Surely you did not enter the cave with this legion!”

Shaking his head, de Amor explained, “Many knights were slain in the Great Crusades. Each one deemed worthy was given a choice upon his arrival to heaven. He may choose to exist in eternity behind the hallowed walls of heaven, or he may decide to serve here, and defend the Kingdom of God, and risk his heavenly existence,”

Castillo frowned, “What would they be risking, here, in heaven?”

De Amor faced him with a stern expression, “Heaven is as glorious and wonderful as the priests say, but we are only allowed one life here, so to speak. If we are to lose it somehow, our souls travel on to another plane of existence that is neither heaven nor hell. It is known simply as the Abyss.”

He continued, “And if one is to lose their life here, including death in combat, they are banished to that realm. No one knows why, and the angels will not address it. So as it stands, these men risk glorious heaven for eternal darkness. Their love of their Lord is that great.”

Castillo could not speak. The sacrifices these men were making simply took his breath away. How could one decline an eternity in heaven for possibly damnation? He stood in awe of their silent presence. Suddenly, the doors swung open behind them. Not a single knight moved. They seemed to be in a trance, their prayers were so deep.

The two men turned to see who was at the door. St. Michael stood at the door, ivory cloak clasped at his throat. “Come, Captain. It is time,”

De Amor set a heavy hand on his fellow man’s shoulder, “Brother. It is with great pleasure that I was to make your acquaintance. Be safe and carry the Lord in your heart. I will see you on the killing fields,”

Castillo only nodded, the importance of what has about to happen finally beginning to sink in. He moved towards the angel who was towering in the doorway. He seemed a bit taller than Gabriel. “Walk with me,” he commanded.

Castillo struggled to keep step with the angel as they moved back down the halls he and de Amor had just come through. Michael began speaking, “I trust the captain explained things to you?”

Castillo gave an absent nod while his mind raced over the information that had been piled on him. “Wait! Just one more thing,”

“Yes?” the two continued walking.

“Why me? Surely I cannot be that important that the Lord makes the stars align and gets me sent on a mission that just happens to be searching for the Holy Grail? Why did I get chosen?”

Michael stopped and faced Arturo, “First, God can make the stars fall in and out of alignment because they are his to do with what he will. Those clues that your bishop discovered do not exist. They only appeared to his eyes because the time was right. If you go back over those same texts, they will be devoid of any evidence of this. Everything that you think that has happened by chance, has happened because God willed it. He led you here the entire way.

“And you have been chosen because you are the last of your kind. Never again will a man step forth on earth to organize a military force in the name of the Lord and devote himself in his heart to carry out that work. Other forces will rise, but they will fall soon after. Greed will grip their hearts and corrupt them, turning them into no more than mercenaries. You hold Christ in your heart and fight with that fervor. You used that loyalty to stand up an armed force and do the dirty work, which He sometimes requires. You are a Christian knight, and for that, you have been chosen,” the angel paused and thingyed an eyebrow.

“Do you wish to deny the Lord and return to earth where you may continue your life?”

Without batting an eyelash, Castillo replied, “I have no such desires. I will fight for Christ until the Lords dismisses me,”

Nodding, Michael replied, “I thought so. Come, we must move,” the two continued walking as Michael finally began to reveal the details of what was about to come.

“De Amor explained to you the reasons we angels and his men cannot possess the Grail?”

“The Dark Lord’s curse,” answered Castillo.

“Correct. We cannot stand within one hundred yards of the Tower of Babel, for its power has grown. We march to open war on the Tower, for Satan does the same. Knights are already making their way there. We cannon risk you, being one of only two in this realm to handle the Grail safely in combat. Therefore, once the fighting has broken out, I will fly you as close as I can. From there, you must enter the tower and ascend the stairs to the top, where the Grail is resting.

“At the top, you will find Sephriel, one of our brothers. He bravely volunteered to remain behind and ensure the chalice did not fall to Satan. He has been fighting the curse for a very long time now, and I am afraid we have lost him,”

Michael reached down and patted the bag that contained the red crystal skull, “This is a tool of the devil, but in your hands, it will protect you from the same evil that seeks to destroy you. With it, you will void the powers and abilities of any demons you come across. In doing so, it will put you and your adversary on a level playing field. But you still will suffer from physical wounds, so protect yourself, you are vulnerable.”

They passed the room with the table. Castillo saw it was empty. They moved past it to a vestibule that overlooked the entire valley of heaven. White rock stretched in a horseshoe formation to their left and right and seemed to stretch to infinity. Below them laid a massive field of green that rolled on towards the horizon. As the green began to lose its color, the dark clouds of Hell hovered over it ominously. A massive column of white knights slowly seeped into the green grass and marched on towards the possible death.

“Do not let those horrible clouds dampen your spirit, for the calls of God can be heard here on this side,” Michael placed an arm around Castillo, in a rare gesture of affection. The huge angel knelt in front of Castillo, his crystal blue eyes boring into the man’s soul.

“My child, listen. On Earth, you fight with your blade and your strength. Here, you must fight with your heart. You will see things in the tower that will shake the foundations of your faith. You must not allow this to happen. Your faith in the Lord must be strong. And I know it is, for you would not be here if it was not. Fight well, and believe in God and yourself. And I will see you again, victorious,” Michael smiled and brought Castillo in for an embrace.

The angel held the man for a moment, and Castillo felt the heavenly power coursing through his body for the instant to two were together. But Michael pulled away, “Come, you must prepare yourself,” he ushered Arturo into an alcove. On the table was arrayed a full assembly of heavenly armor, complete with a long sword. Castillo looked closely at the blade. He had seen it before. Not in person, but it artwork and stories. The signature shape could not be mistaken.

“Is this…” Castillo reached out to touch the blade, but drew back.

“Yes,” answered Michael, “You will wield Excalibur in your fight against the Dark Lord,”

[longstevo]

Chapter Six
The Toppling of Heaven

Michael grasped Castillo by the back of his cuirass and leaped from the edge of the vestibule. Strangely, Castillo did not feel the pang of panic that would accompany such a fall. His instead focused on the intricate detail of the rock wall they plummeted down. It seemed to be made of a rare ivory marble. But his time to study the stone was short, as the green field rushed up to meet the pair.

In a moment of sheer magnificence, the archangel St. Michael spread his feathered wings. A brilliant flash of light emanated from the angel and nearly blinded Castillo to the point where he could not see. But the objects of the world continued to reveal themselves to him, and he saw they were flying across the heavenly realm at breakneck speed. The armored column of knights was fast approaching.

As the angel rocketed over the men, a cheer arose from the Paladins of God, and they held their spears high.

“They call to you,” said Michael into Castillo’s ear. The angel did not have to raise his voice to be heard above the wind rushing by them.

Arturo’s heart filled with pride. Although he knew his pride had no place in heaven, he could not help but feel that way. Long had he dreamed of being a martyr for Christ. He knew that it was twisted in a way, and not every man could possibly understand, but he felt that in dying for Christ, there was no greater honor. He began to fully realize that it may well come true. And his heart was at peace with it.

They flew across the Devil’s Plains for what seemed like only a few minutes, but with the speed they were keeping, the distance was surely great. Michael kept his inhuman arms wrapped around Castillo’s midsection and held him tight. Legs dangling beneath them, Arturo felt no fear. He instead watched the glorious peaks of heaven descend into the flatlands of the Devil’s Plains.

A flat, forlorn land given up by the Lord ages ago, the Devil’s Plains were claimed by Lucifer upon the forsaking of them. Endless stretches of ash-like soil rolled on in all directions. It was truly a dead place. But rising up like an island in the ocean, the Tower of Babel rose up from the black ash to greet them.

Its ivory walls belied its true origin as a creation of heaven. It looked very out of place in this silent land. Standing like a beacon against evil, the white column rose to a height of nearly two hundred feet. Even including the statues and engravings dedicated to the angels and saints of heaven, the structure resembled a tower from an ordinary castle one would find all throughout Europa. The tall circular walls rose up to a vestibule at the top. Windows were scattered all throughout the tower, but Castillo could not see inside.

As they approached the tower, Michael descended, and finally landed about three hundred feet from the structure. He set Castillo down and faced him.

“Hurry. There is very little time,” the crystal eyes stared deep into Castillo’s soul again. But not with authority this time, but with respect and loyalty, “You must climb the tower, retrieve the Grail, and return to us. Once you have the Grail in your possession, Lucifer’s crystal skull will negate the power of his curse, and I can carry you back to the Kingdom of the Lord safely, but only if you possess both relics. Understand?”

Castillo nodded. Michael continued, “Do not give either relic to anybody or anything. For they will not possess this,” he grabbed the crystal skull hanging in a satchel at Castillo’s side. “If you heed these instructions, God will keep you safe. Now go!”

Castillo nodded and turned to run, but Michael grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him back, “My son, as I told you, we lost our most devout warrior to the likes of Satan,” he motioned towards Castillo’s blade, Excalibur, “Do not let yourself fall to the same temptation,”

Castillo nodded once again as the drums of Satan could begin to be heard resonated across the Devil’s Plains.

“Go! I will protect you as long as I can. The brothers will be here soon, but you must hurry!”

Castillo turned and sprinted for the ivory tower. He was amazed at just how weightless the armor was on his shoulders. None of it clinked or collided with each other, as most armor does. In his right hand, he reached down and secured the crystal skull bouncing at his sides. In his left, he grasped the hilt of Excalibur and held it in place. The imposing gateway of the tower rushed up to him. As he took his final steps towards the black wood door, he turned to look behind him.

St. Michael, the Archangel of Heaven, stood alone in the land claimed by his enemy and the enemy of God. His beautiful feathered wings stretched wide of each side. They seemed to have a glow of their own. The angel began casually making long strides to the other side of the tower from which the forces of darkness would approach. He reached up and unclasped his cloak, letting it fall to the dusty ground. His white and gold Roman style armor shined brightly, despite the lack of light in this forsaken place. His long locks of brown hair fell to his shoulders as he turned to Castillo. He balled his fist and pounded it to his breastplate in a sign of respect.

Bursting with pride again, Castillo reached the beautifully ornate door and opened it.

[longstevo]

Castillo pushed his fears aside and rushed through the gaping door. Without even allowing him to enter fully, the swinging doors slammed shut. Whirling about, he saw nothing but the door behind him. He reached out to pull the door open again, but saw no handle on this side. Shrugging, he turned towards the interior.

The captain expected utter darkness, but was pleasantly surprised to find torches lining the foyer in front of him. He surveyed his surroundings and saw a small lobby void of furniture or any garnets and a small staircase leading in an upward spiral at the far side. With one last look around the stonewalled ceiling and floor to make sure he had missed nothing, Castillo left the bare entry room and headed for the stairwell.

The stairwell was barely wide enough to fit his broad shoulders, much less so with his armor adorned. He grabbed a torch off the wall in the case that he may run out of brightly lit rooms. The stairs twisted to the right and up as he climbed. He counted the steps in his mind. After fifty steps he was sure he should have reached a door, but the only place the winding staircase led to was more stairs. He thought of St. Michael’s description of the structure and remembered him saying it was a ‘sentry tower’ to guard against the minions of Hades pouring forth into the Kingdom of Heaven. This hardly seemed like any guard tower Castillo had seen in his life. But then again, he had never set foot upon his world in his life. With a sigh, he continued climbing.

After one hundred steps, his legs began to burn terribly. Beads of sweat ran freely from his brow and fell to the cold stone steps. He leaned against the wall and noticed the weight of the heavenly armor began to weigh fully on his shoulders. He squirmed a bit trying to get more comfortable, but to no avail. He took a few more breaths, then continued to push upward.

Castillo gasped heavily as he counted one hundred and fifty steps. That should be eleven stories worth of steps. He recounted how tall the tower seemed as he approached it and he remembered with dread that it had appeared much taller than that. He grabbed his scabbard belt and adjusted it a bit more loosely, reliving the stress around his hips.

The knight had expected another one hundred and fifty steps to meet him, but has he rounded the turn at only ten more steps, he nearly crashed into a solid wood door blocking his way. The steps flattened out into a small landing supporting the oaken door. A heavy wrought iron handle sat about waist high, as well as a simple cross hanging about the midway point on the door. For a second, he hesitated and wondered at what would be lurking behind the door. But before he could think twice, he reached down and pushed the door wide open.

The wooden door opened up into a large chamber about the circumference of the tower. The round stone walls were still present, but they were decorated by a great many things. Curtains fell over windows, rounded bookshelves lined the walls in addition to various artwork and flags. Chairs and couches set in certain places and a glorious dining table set in a very center accompanied by matching chairs. Upon the table was dining ware including plates and bowls and silverware. But what Castillo noticed about the eating utensils was there were a far greater number of drinking cups and mugs than placemats. He quickly counted ten chairs and corresponding plates, but there were close to thirty mugs and cups setting in the center.

Castillo took a step forward and noticed the door did not close behind him. His right hand fell to the hilt of Excalibur. The mere feel of the cold steel seemed to calm him. This sword had surely claimed many lives of God’s foes. He would wield it and claim many more in a way that would bring only more glory to the Lord. He felt confident and sure of his abilities when his held the blade. He felt invincible.

With a deep sigh, he strode arrogantly to the table. The details on the dining ware was immaculate, he noticed. The plates were carved with various scenes of the bible, and the handles of the cutlery were formed into important characters of the stories inside that great book. He picked up a golden fork and admired it. The handle was adorned by a figure of Moses spreading his arms wide. The sthingy setting beside it was decorated with Adam, the knife with Eve.

“Will you be so rude to come into my home with a simple greeting?” a meek voice called from the far side of the round room.

Dropping the cutlery and sending it clattering onto the table, Castillo spun about to the direction of the voice. In a flash, Excalibur was singing from its scabbard and into the musty air. Castillo stood ready to take on the devil himself.

But what met his eyes was far more feeble than and image Satan would lower himself to. An old man leaning on a crooked cane hobbled towards him. A black cloak fell over the man’s eyes and face and draped over his shoulders, hiding his features. What was not hidden, however, was the fact that this man was no able to pose any threat to Arturo.

He sheathed his blade, “My apologies m’lord, I did not see you,”

“Bah. Away with your petty words,” it pained Castillo to hear such weakness in a human’s voice. In all his days of working with the sick and elderly, never had he heard a voice lacking such simple strength. He was surprised the man could stand at all, yet he stood tall at about six feet high, able to stare Castillo in the eye if he would show his face. “I am far more interested in your weapon of choice, Sir Knight.”

Instinctively, Castillo put a defensive hand on the hilt of Excalibur, “What of it, Old Man?”

The man only gave a grunt in reply before pointing at Castillo and said, “This is not the first time that particular sword has entered these walls, for another champion such as yourself carried it here in the same quest you do, Sir Castillo.”

Castillo reeled back onto his heels and yanked his blade free again, “What are you?”

The only man shook his head and turned to the table, “Not a man as yourself, apparently, for I use wit before I resort to swordplay. Perhaps you would like to discover who and what you are dealing with before you strike me down, yes?” The coweled faced turned halfway back before focusing attention again on the dining table.

The knight lowered his blade but did not replace it in the scabbard. “Very well. Please, enlighten me,”

[longstevo]

Castillo did not take time to notice the details of the room he was in. His eyes stayed fixed on the mysterious man standing near the table admiring the grouping of differently styled cups and mugs strewn about the table. The captain had yet to see the man’s face for the concealing hood. And for some reason, Castillo preferred it that way.

“Many years ago, a brave knight gallantly traversed this tower in a quest for the Grail. It was the final leg on his lifelong crusade to find the chalice. His quest ended in victory when he found it here, but his heavenly existence ended in tragedy, when the sheer power of it consumed him,”

“King Arthur…” interjected Castillo.

The man did not look back, “Yes, it was he that wrested the Grail from the clutches of Lucifer here in this tower. But the latter got the final laugh. He played upon the noble knight’s desire for the Grail, turning that emotion into greed. When St. Michael reached for it in heaven, Arthur refused and drew his sword against the angel. Arthur was immediately cast into Hell. This proved to be a mistake in itself. Instead of banishing the lost soul of King Arthur into the abyss, it presented Satan with a gift. He crowned Arthur his Dark Prince at once, and he has been our bane ever since,”

Castillo took a moment to let the information soak in. It was an amazing tale, one that followed all the twists and turns of the earthly legend of King Arthur and the Holy Grail and offered a tragic ending to such a romantic tale. But Castillo caught onto a single piece of the story.

“You say he has been your bane? Your bane as in heaven’s bane?”

The robed man gave no answer.

“Are you Sephriel?”

A moment of silence passed before the robed man spoke, “I was once called by that name,”

Castillo’s heart swelled. He had made it. His quest was nearly over. “Then you can help me! I’m sure you know why I am here. Tell me where the Grail is!”

Sephriel broke out into an unexpected fit of laughing. “Do you think that it would be so easy? Do you not see all the Grails present?” he pointed to the collection on the table top, “Nay, I am afraid I cannot help you, for I do not know which Grail it is. It was the final ploy of Lucifer. In addition to placing a curse upon the Grail, which has taken its toll on me, I may add, he placed many copies of it here as well. That way, a striking hero such as yourself could not simply walk in and take it,”

The angel’s voice cracked, “And in addition to that, look out the window,” he pointed to a curtain which Castillo had not noticed before. With a brush of his hand, he swiped the drape aside.

Far below them, the armies of Hell and Heaven were already locked in combat. The sounds could not be heard through the pane of glass in the window, but audio was not needed to see the viciousness of the fight. Dark gray and black masses crashed against gleaming silver knights all around the base of the tower.

“In a short while, Satan’s minions will be racing up this tower searching for you. You need to select the real Grail and signal St. Michael from the top of the tower,” With that, Sephriel turned and walked out of the opposite door from which Castillo had entered. He stared incredulously at the table holding nearly a dozen Grails.

This was going to be harder than he thought.