Angels And Thieves

New Recollection Available

Article by Suzanne Levine

            Sylvie Lightspring, 21, published her latest volume of the Recollection series Friday.

            Lightspring is known for her Recollection novels as well as her autobiography, Ten Thousand Miles. She won the Pulitzer Prize at age 17, and says she’s hoping for a second.

            “She’s always been a prodigy,” says Julia Madison, Lightspring’s lifelong friend. “But now that she’s one of the nation’s bestselling authors, I know that she’s going to be remembered in school literature books everywhere.”

            The new Recollection novel, titled “Angels and Thieves,” can be purchased at any local bookstore.

 

Three years earlier…

           

“Mom, I’m sorry, but I really must get going. The movers will be at my apartment soon.”

Sylvie had been fighting with her mother for months about moving out. Finally, after months of preparation, it was time for her to rent her own home. Truth be told, the young adult was nervous; nevertheless, she was determined to make it on her own. The money which the Pulitzer Prize had given her last year had been spent on private writing lessons, and the girl had been so enveloped in her work that she was exceeding even her professor’s skill. Now, she was a recognized author, and was ready to venture into the world on her own.

“Be careful, Sylvie… and never forget how much I love you.” Sylvie’s mother kissed her goodbye as the 18-year-old got into Julia’s car, and didn’t say a word until they were safely out of her mother’s hearing range.

“Thank goodness, I’m finally free,” Sylvie said with a sigh of relief. “Do you know, Julia…?”

“Yes, yes, I know; you’ve told me five million times how much you’ve felt ‘alone and shackled’ in that house. Well, now you’re on your own. You think you can manage?”

Sylvie stuck her head out of the window. The sun was setting as they passed car after car on the highway. The burgundy sky was magnificent, with soft teal clouds dotting the sky. “Yeah,” Sylvie whispered into the evening sky. “Yeah, I’ll manage.”

Julia set her iPod to one of the best CDs of her collection and drove faster to her favorite song. Little did she know that it was one of Sylvie’s favorite songs as well; she had so much fun it made her dance so hard. It almost looked to others like she was having a seizure. But Sylvie was just having fun as she sang out the words and strummed her air guitar.

Two hours later they reached the apartment; unbeknownst to Sylvie, Julia had seen to it that the movers and her friends had moved everything to its proper place. When Sylvie saw what her friend had done for her, she giggled in delight.

“Hey, who’s making all that noise? Oh, hi, Julia,” a voice called from the first landing.

“How are you, Malleus? Come down and meet your new neighbor!”

A man no older than twenty-five by the looks of him came down the stairs. He wore classy obsidian clothes and a sharp smile, with his jet black hair tied back in a ponytail by a satin ebony ribbon. Yet Sylvie noticed only his magnificent amber eyes; she was mesmerized. As he smiled at her, a cold chill went up and down her spine, her heart froze, and she wondered how a man’s presence could make her whole body quiver with fear and excitement at the same time.

“Ah, you must be Miss Lightspring,” the man said coolly. “I am Malleus Ki. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

As they shook hands, Sylvie awoke from her trance and said, “I love your name: The Spirit Hammer. I wonder, though, why your name is based from two different countries…”

“Well,” Malleus replied, “my father loved the Roman culture, and was sure that the strength of mankind came from harsh reality. My mother, on the other hand, was fond of the Japanese culture. She believed that the spirit of imagination and creativity would be the best path to tread. Hence, when I was born, I was given a strong yet creative name.”

“Impressive,” Julia said. “You know Malleus, you and Sylvie should get together some time and create stuff.”

Sylvie nudged her friend, knowing that she was trying to play matchmaker. Then she gazed back into Malleus’ eyes. “Are you an author as well?”

“Actually, I’m an artist, composer and musician; I play the violin and organ.”

“I see. And what kind of art do you create?”

Malleus smiled at Sylvie’s interest. “I paint pictures of Heaven and Hell, and I must say the paintings draw you into them are quite astonishing.”

He might be a good artist, Sylvie thought, but his ego doesn’t impress me.

“Well, I must be off,” Julia said suddenly. She gave Malleus a handshake and Sylvie a hug. In the next moment she was driving away, the CD blasting loudly through the speakers.

A few stars twinkled overhead as the night sky grew darker. The crickets began to sing their songs, and a soft breeze kissed Sylvie’s face. She closed her eyes and welcomed the soft touch of the autumn breeze. She felt wonderful.

But as she opened her eyes again, she saw Malleus gazing at her with those cold, unflinching eyes and a grin so beautiful it was terrifying. Although it was difficult, she tried her best to look away. When she finally broke her gaze, her strength and resolve returned, and started to head into the house.

Malleus, however, had other plans. He grabbed Sylvie’s wrist and dragged her into the stairwell. She struggled in vain to break free; now that she was alone, her only refuge would be her apartment. He pulled her into his apartment and shut the door, and, trembling, Sylvie asked, “What are you going to do to me?”

“Nothing without your consent,” Malleus said in a low voice.

If that was true, then why would he have shoved me into his apartment the first chance he had?

Elegantly, Malleus pulled back his hair and looked into her eyes. As much as she struggled to look away it was useless, for he had grabbed her face with both hands. He kissed her soft cheek and whispered in her ear, “You’re so precious, Sylvie. You wouldn’t know it, but I have been watching over you for some time now…”

Great, he’s been stalking me, Sylvie thought.  How could this get worse?

He turned her head gently toward a canvas covered by a satin crimson cloth. As he unveiled the painting, her eyes widened, unable to believe what she saw.

“I call this piece, ‘A Portrait of True Salvation’,” Malleus whispered.

On the canvas was a painting of a crimson sky above a battlefield. Angels were weeping as they bled, whilst demons laughed at their own blood thirst. Behind the crumpled feathers and black wings a palace stood, its walls forged with dried blood and dead roses. The clouds were dark shades of grey, and it was raining.

The painting was so realistic that Sylvie was mesmerized. She didn’t notice Malleus slowly back away from her, nor did she hear him pull out a black book and begin to read a dark hymn. Suddenly a cold and tingling sensation wrapped itself around her body; it started at her fingertips and pushed its way toward her spine. By the time it reached her neck, she was feeling dizzy, yet still she stared at the painting. It seemed to her as if the painting was getting larger…

 

*

 

Sylvie awoke to the sound of chaos. Men and women alike were screaming in agony and utter despair. As she opened her eyes, she saw that she was being led by a man in black clothing through a city. The screams belonged to men and women who were being tortured in unthinkable ways. It was raining, and the sky was a bloody red.

            As her train of thought began to focus, the first thing that came to mind was, “Where am I?”

            “Welcome to Hell,” the man in black said. She recognized the voice, and held Malleus tightly as if he were her salvation from this wicked place. Yet the man strode through the madness as if it were a morning walk on a sunny day. “Ah, the screams, how I’ve missed them…”

            “Malleus, what’s going on? How’d I get here; what are you going to do to me?”

            The man turned to look at her; then took her into his arms. Though he was cold to the touch, Sylvie felt safe in his arms… safer than if she were on her own in this dreadful place. “My dear, I’ve brought you here to my kingdom to marry you.”

            “Oh my god,” she muttered in disbelief.

            Malleus pulled the girl’s hair. “Those who dare speak that name are those that scream loudest, my dear, so I recommend that you don’t say it,” he told her as he let go of her hair.

            “Malleus… should I call you Lucifer? And, I thought you preferred people to use his name in vain.”

            “You may call me whatever you wish, dear: Mephistopheles, Morning Star; Prince of Darkness… these names are the common amongst mankind. My name, however, does not change. As long as I am recognized as the Lord of the Earth, that is all that matters. And as far as He is concerned,” he paused and spat at the thought of God, “I prefer that no one believes He or His armies exist, which is why we don’t acknowledge them at all. Those who choose to do so will be severely punished.”

            By now the two had reached the palace, and had been welcomed by two young men in black robes. The interior of the main hallway was dark, and the entire castle, Sylvie would later find, was lit only by candles. Malleus led her through a labyrinth of hallways, and finally reached the room he was looking for. He opened the door, and Sylvie saw that this room had a bed. It also had a window to look out at the surrounding battlegrounds.

As the demon lord set her down, she looked out of the window and felt only despair; there was only death and a hellish nightmare to gaze upon. The fields were stained with blood, and the trees that stood were dead. She looked toward the ground and saw that she was ninety feet up. If she were to try and escape this way, she would certainly die.

“Enjoying the view,” Malleus asked. She turned, suddenly realizing that as he had watched her, he probably knew what she had been thinking.

Cringing, she replied, “It’s lovely, if you like death and depressing darkness.” Malleus walked toward her and caressed her cheek. His long fingertips sent chills down her spine as they softly touched her skin. Then he walked away, and as he touched the doorknob, he stopped, and turned.  

“This is your home now. It is not necessary for you to love me by tonight when we wed, but I do hope you will accept me as your husband.” Then he left.

“Love             IS necessary for a wedding, you, you… ugh!” Sylvie shouted and threw her shoe at the door.   

            Men, she thought to herself. Whether demon or human, none of them understand that love is the most important part of a relationship. Oh, how did I ever get myself into this mess?

            Sylvie lay on her bed which had a crimson comforter and purple lining. She tried to analyze the situation and what she could do to get out of this mess, but she was fresh out of ideas.

            Hours passed, and still Sylvie lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. The tiles that made it were hand-crafted into odd shapes and sizes, twisting and turning as it made its way across the room… or were her eyes playing tricks on her? It certainly was a perfect creation of confusion.

But she took particular interest in the flames that flickered on the wicks of the candles on the chandelier. The candle’s wax was the only object in the entire castle that was white, and though the white candles were scarce in every other room that she had seen they seemed abundant in this room.

             Suddenly a faint, strange song attracted Sylvie’s attention. It was a strong, sorrowful melody, yet there was a hint of hope strung into it as if by magic. Could it be that the music was calling to her?

            Quietly, the girl slipped off her bed and hesitantly tried the door. She was amazed to find that all this time the door had been unlocked. The music was louder in the hallway, but not by much. Taking a thin white candle in hand, Sylvie stepped into the hallway.

As she did so, her outfit changed from a forest green sweatshirt and jeans to a white satin dress with a big butterfly bow in the back. It was cut at the shoulders, and the dress was completed by a white lace and satin corset over it. Yet Sylvie hardly noticed the change as she liked wearing corsets; to her they were more comfortable than bras.

Trancelike, Sylvie followed the music through the dark hallways. She had no idea where she was going or what lay ahead. She turned a corner, and found herself in a pitch black room lit by candles. It seemed like a chapel. At the far end a grand organ stood, and a man dressed in crimson played it, gently tapping the keys.

The music in this room was so loud it echoed loud and long. It seemed to surround both Sylvie and the man who played it. It enveloped them, swallowed them whole. She didn’t have to imagine how the musician felt as he played; she felt the music and knew. Enveloped in sorrow, drenched in turmoil, yet hoping for hope, the song was not mere music: it was a prayer for the dead, a requiem of happiness.

Sylvie walked toward the man who played the grand organ. She knew that it was Malleus playing, but the fact that he was the devil himself didn’t seem to matter anymore. No one should feel such a pain that he seemed to express through his music, and that was why she approached him and put a warm hand on his shoulder.

The music stopped suddenly as the demon king looked up at Sylvie. Black tears comprised of ash and blood streamed down his face. One look and Sylvie knew that his reign of terror was not what he truly wanted. Something was missing in his heart: he wanted to feel the warmth of love.

He wiped his tears away and recomposed himself, saying, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to see me like this.”

“Malleus, why do you rule the world with an iron fist if it’s not what you want,” Sylvie asked.

“What do you mean? I like being king of men!”

“….But you’re not king of men; you are the king of damned men. Don’t you ever wish that you had something better?”

Malleus screamed in rage and agony as he got up from his seat. “You wouldn’t understand, Angel of Light! You don’t know what it’s like to have been cast aside by your own Father because he wanted to bond with his ‘only’ son! You don’t know what it’s like to be forsaken for all eternity just because you wanted his love!” He fell to his knees and began beating at the ground with his fists. “Why, oh why was I the one cast out?”

Sylvie sighed. “Look, Malleus, I know nothing about your descent from Heaven. I don’t know how you perceive things. But what I do know is that when people are formed in Heaven, they are perfect. You may have seen yourself second in His heart, but I’m pretty sure that you were perfect just as you were when you were in Heaven. But you became power-hungry; you thought that maybe you could be the highest in the hierarchy. What you didn’t realize was there wasn’t a hierarchy; there was no kingdom in Heaven. It was a family, and God was its father. He was the guide. I only know what I’ve read from the book of Ezek. 28:12-17; it says that you murdered one of your fellow angels, and you were cast out. That was your family you killed, Malleus! You practically told them you wanted a new family. So now you’re the king of lost souls. I don’t want to make you feel bad, Malleus, I just want you to understand the reality of what happened.”

By now the demon king had completely broken down. He was sobbing wildly, and all of Hell was silenced by his tears. He couldn’t even speak, he was so wound up. Sylvie put a hand on his shoulder, and as she gazed into his eyes, she felt as if she was watching a glacier melt through the seasons in a manner of seconds. He blinked once, and then looked away. He was trying to hide his shame, yet she had seen it all in his eyes. She had watched the memories that haunted his mind, of how he had murdered his own sibling just for power, all for naught.  

She brought his attention back on him, and as she kissed his cheek, tears streaming down her face, she realized that in a few moments they had spent a lifetime together. They were falling in love. She couldn’t understand it. What had provoked love? This man, who was obviously the epitome of evil, had poured his soul into her hands, allowed her to see him in utter shame. Was that not worth something?

In that darkness there seemed to be only them, but as Sylvie began to kiss Malleus, one of the attendants ran into the room and demanded the demon lord’s attention.

“What is it, Sebastian? Can you not see I do not wish to be disturbed,” Malleus fumed.

“But sire,” the attendant said, “the inner fortress has been breached by the armies of the Light! They shall be upon us shortly!”

Thinking quickly, Malleus stood, recomposed himself, and stated that slaves and demons alike should make haste and attack the enemy to the death. He also commanded that any injured and dead should seal off the chapel and block off every possible entrance with their bodies.

“They know you’re here, Angel of Light,” Malleus said, looking to Sylvie.

“Why do you call me that? Do you mean to tell me I’m one of them? I’m an angel?”

“You’re not just an angel, Sylvie: you’re the Next Coming.”

Sylvie was perplexed. “Wait a minute, I can’t be… you’re saying I’m Christ! That can’t be! I’m not even an angel!”

Malleus put his hands on her shoulders. “A long time ago there was a man who many revered as the Son of God. He stated that one day there would be another who would live amongst his people forever. But since God takes many forms, who is to say that He would not create the Next Coming as a woman, much less you?” He took her hands, and upon one knee, he said, “Sylvie Lightspring, Angel of Light, Next Coming, I have loved you since before conception. I knew that you would be the one to bring back hope to the lost… and to me, as well. Tonight you brought back the hope that I had almost forgotten, and that in itself is a miracle that no mortal man, prophet or saint could do. Sylvie, will you marry me?”

Just then, there was an explosion from the roof, and a light so brilliant it was blinding flew down. It dimmed a little, and became a man with twelve magnificent wings. His long hair was white, his suit was white, and his long sword was clear and stronger than a diamond. He turned to Sylvie, smiled and bowed. “Your Highness, I have been assigned to escort you back to your Father in Heaven.”

“You shall not,” Malleus said as he unsheathed his sword.

Suddenly he was surrounded by angels. Sylvie realized that one way or the other they planned to kill Malleus and take her to Heaven. She loved him, and that’s why she intervened. “Everyone, listen to me,” she yelled. The angels bowed, and the demon lord sheathed his sword.

“We are at your service, your Highness,” the angel with twelve wings said.

“I will go with you on one condition: Every angel who is currently in this room and on the battlefield must return to Heaven with me, leaving Malleus unharmed. He will serve his purpose in due time.”

The armies of angels immediately flew into the sky like shooting stars, and Sylvie’s head was spinning as she flew through the night sky into blue daylight. It almost blinded her at first, but then she saw blue clouds and a world filled with millions of bright colors. She was awestricken. So this is Heaven, she thought to herself. It’s perfect… of course, why wouldn’t it be?

When Sylvie found her feet she was still a little dizzy, but she was happy. There was a sense of homeliness to this place. She wanted everyone to feel what she felt now.

“Welcome home, my daughter,” a warm voice said. It seemed that the voice made her body warmer, as if she had been out in the winter cold for months and had finally come home to a nice warm fire.

“Father,” she said instinctively. “Why have you called me here? My mission is clear; I must be with your people! I must bring them this Heaven on Earth!”

“And how do you plan to do that, my youngling? By marrying the Morning Star? He has chosen his path: he betrayed me, hid you from us and killed you. I had to recreate you to finish the prophecies. Your soul is not entirely together anymore. You were never the same after that incident. I’m sorry, my child. I know that you want to love the whole world, but he is not of that world.”

“You’re right, Father; he isn’t a part of that world. He is a part of this family!”

“You mean he was a part of this family. He’s been exiled from Heaven since the beginning of time, when he first killed you.”

“He’s still created by you, Father, which makes him a part of this family. Father, you can’t let anger dominate your relationship with Malleus forever. Families on earth come together to rejoice our family many times over and in doing so overcome their differences to be with their blood relatives. Don’t you see? He’s always been a part of this family, a part of the plan. Please, show compassion to him; show him your unending love.”

The Father sighed. “You just don’t understand, do you? He killed you before, hungry for blood and power. What makes you think he won’t do it again?”

“Because I know how he feels, Father. After all, I am still in human form.”

“Well, I hope you know what you’re doing, Sylvie. Go to him, and let us end this war once and for all.”

Next thing she knew she was alone in the dark chapel with Malleus, who was drenched in a pool of ashy tears. He was on his knees and looking up at the blackened sky, his hope being stripped from him.

“I will marry you, Malleus,” Sylvie said as she stepped toward him. The demon lord looked in her direction, and suddenly a smile came upon his face.

“You… you came back for me,” Malleus said surprised.

“Of course I came back. I know that you love me, and I know that you want power. I love you just the way you are, Malleus, and I’m not going to try to change you. I have decided to marry you.”

As the demon lord’s smile grew wider, the chapel was filled with light from candles. Ghastly music started playing and two acolytes in black robes walked down the aisle. Behind them a third acolyte held a black satin pillow with a dagger resting on it.

The ceremony began. Sylvie thought that it was beautiful, though simultaneously dark and creepy. The priest was Malleus, and as he spoke his words rang out into the night like a powerful drum beat. As she watched him, she was slightly mesmerized. She didn’t see him as a monster, but as the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

“And now, to finish the ceremony,” Malleus said to Sylvie as the dagger seemed to levitate above the pillow, “we shall reunite you and the first Christ, followed by joy eternal.” He took the dagger, and offered it to Sylvie.

“What am I supposed to do with this,” Sylvie asked.

“This dagger I stole from the first Christ,” Malleus replied. “The blade was forged with love, and therefore I cannot touch it with my hands. Once you touch it, you shall be reunited with the part of you that I have stolen. Then you will know how to make our world perfect.”

She slowly grasped the blade, and as she did, she saw the history of the men that had been called: Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha… they and others through history had been called to be a part of Christ’s legacy. She also saw that there was a small part of God in everyone, as well as a little part of Malleus in everyone. She saw the balance of life and death, the vegetarians and the omnivorous people, and through it all she realized that, though mankind itself was imperfect, the balance was as it should be. There really was nothing to change. Yet Malleus’ mind had to be altered in one way: he had to see that those who were in Hell were happy as they were and that this was their Heaven. Little did she know that she was glowing, and she proclaimed this to all the people of the earth, the heavens, and hell. Then she fell unconscious.

Sylvie awoke to birds singing and the sun in her eyes. She opened her eyes and looked outside the window of her bedroom, and to her astonishment she saw a blue sky and green grass. She saw children playing and musicians singing and dancing. The door behind her opened, and Malleus smiled at her. She turned at the sound of the door, and she smiled joyfully at him.

“I did it,” she said with glee.

“Did you? Not much has changed in my mind… except that you’re here, making me the happiest man in the universe.”

“I guess heaven is what you make it,” Sylvie said, looking out the window.

*

Three years later, Sylvie’s book was published. It was a controversial revelation on Heaven and Hell. Many teenagers enjoyed the book, whilst old-fashioned Christians claimed that it was the devil’s work. She hoped that one day the world would understand that there’s no such thing as a wrong version of Heaven or Hell, but it would take ages before that happened. Until then and ever after, she is happily married to Malleus, the Morning Star.

 

Author's Note

constructive criticism welcome, as I plan to publish this.