The Enemy of Heaven

“It took a devastating war to unify the world. I won’t say it was worth it. But I will call this new world Heaven, in hope that our descendants will make it into one. As of this day, we live in Heaven, and every citizen of Heaven is an angel.”

--- Elden Azaleas

Year 1027 of Heaven on Earth

1

Raphael

“Your Highness, don’t go in there yourself!”

Raphael was already on the rope ladder, carefully being lowered into the hole. He looked up where the blue uniform of his personal guard contrasted with the gray worker uniforms of the honorary angels.

“I’ll be right back, Zadkiel,” he said cheerfully.

The end of the rope ladder reached the bottom of the large excavation site and Raphael jumped off in a hurry. It took a whole month of digging to reach this depth. The ground beneath his feet was hard, but also crumbly, which posed a threat of a landslide, or falling rocks.

“It’s right here, Your Highness,” said a red-eyed worker woman.

Raphael made his way in between the workers that converged around a rectangular bump peeking from the wall of layered, hardened soil. It was completely doused in earth and could have easily gone unnoticed, but fortunately, a trained eye saw the edge of a transparent, smooth cover.

Raphael pulled out a brush from his inner pocket and gently swept the dust until he revealed the obvious outlines of a thick stack of snow white paper. It was a historical document.

“We have to extract it very carefully,” said Raphael. “The wrapper protects the paper, but it’s not indestructible.”

Several red-eyed heads nodded with understanding, and what followed was a sequence of careful nicks and prods around the buried document. Raphael put all his tools to good use, letting the honorary angels help, whenever he needed more than two hands. With their irreplaceable assistance, he removed the soil around the ancient discovery one hardened chunk at a time.

The rest of the workers had gathered around the hole, watching them from above. Little by little, the document loosened from the confines of the earth, until the whole piece was in Raphael’s hands.

“We have it!”

Everybody at the top cheered and clapped their hands. This was going to mark the last day of summer, as well as the last day of this archeological expedition. After a whole month of uneventful digging, Raphael had no expectations for today.

He wrapped an arm around the woman worker and kissed her temple. “Thank you so much.”

The woman chuckled and shrunk a little, looking at her feet in embarrassment. Raphael wasted no time, grabbing onto the rope ladder and letting the others reel him out of the hole while clutching the document to his chest. Once he peeked out into the sun, he took Zadkiel’s hand and stepped out into loud applause.

“Good work, everyone,” he said. “We’ve found another historical document, left to us from the Preservers and its value in knowledge will make our kingdom better. Tomorrow the newspapers will acknowledge your contribution.”

The workers kept applauding, and he raised his hand for their attention. “The expedition is over. Report to your commanding officer and collect your payment. And get a much-deserved rest.”

The crowd cheered happily, excited congratulations were thrown behind his back, as Raphael headed towards his tent, followed by his silent personal guard.

There, under the blazing sun, was standing a curly-haired woman in a dress way too elegant for an archeological site. Sienna Bird, his best friend and since quite recently—his beautiful fiancée had spent most of her day in the privacy and merciful shade of Raphael’s tent, but now she had graced him with her presence.

“Congratulations are in order,” she said.

Raphael glanced at the document in his hands as though it was his newborn. “Look at it. Perfectly preserved. It’s probably a thousand years old, but the paper appears brand-new.”

He gently traced a gloved finger over the smooth surface of the transparent wrapper around it. No one knew what this material was, it was unlike anything the world has seen today. And yet, all archeological documents they found were preserved with it. The ancients had much better technology at their disposal a thousand years ago.

“I hope it’s worth all this effort,” said Sienna. “I still can’t believe you spent the nights here through the entire expedition.”

She was right to worry—they were in the ghetto of Alirie, home of the red-eyed demon population, filled with vagrants and lowkey criminals unable to integrate into civilized society.

Fortunately, Raphael’s camp was heavily guarded by law enforcement officers. Golden uniforms scouted around the site, keeping the locals from approaching. No one could get through the guardian angels. Still, this didn’t stop the demons from watching from afar. Raphael sensed their blood-red eyes even in the privacy of his tent.

“Were you worried about me?” He asked with a mischievous smile.

“Hardly,” she looked away dismissively. “I’m just admiring your boldness. This and buying the locals new houses in Alirie.”

The closest guardian glanced at them, outraged at what he just heard, but said nothing. Raphael allowed that—anyone could be outraged in silence all they want.

Since this excavation ended up ruining several buildings in the ghetto, the demons who used them as shelter were left without a home. So, Raphael did the right thing by relocating them into new, and much better living quarters. No one complained.

“Cooperation with their sovereign and sacrificing their property for the historical and cultural development of Heaven requires appropriate compensation,” said Raphael.

Sienna knew this, of course. It wasn’t a clarification for her, but for anyone who was secretly listening. Let them know that fairness from the Crown extended even in the ghetto, no matter their political opinions. Sienna smirked. This expression suited her so well.

Raphael looked at the present in his arms. “Let’s unwrap.”

He walked into his tent and placed the document on the table. First, he picked up a thin hose and cleared the excess dirt with a small stream of water under pressure. Then, he donned a clean pair of fabric gloves and cut the transparent cover with a set of miniature scissors.

The first snip loosened the wrap around the document—first exposure to air for hundreds of years. The scent of fresh ink reached his nose.

Raphael gently pulled the document out and spent an hour carefully flipping the pages with tweezers. The historical documents found, in the last fifty years, were often manuals for ancient technology. However, this was nothing but hand-written text, probably someone’s diary.

Diaries were valuable since they were written by direct observers of the times, but they wouldn’t revive ancient lost knowledge as manuals did. Raphael understood most of the writing, though the historical committee would argue his translation. It might take years until they reach an understanding.

He put the tweezers down. “Another notebook about flying people.”

“This again?” Sienna sighed. “If we could fly, shouldn’t we have seen it by now? I have a feeling we’re reading some fictional story and declaring it history.”

“Whatever it is, someone will use it for their political agenda.” Raphael glanced at the workers. “And, as always, they’ll be the victims.”

He walked out of the tent and stared at the ghetto while thinking carefully about the way he should introduce the new artifact to the historical community. If he wanted to minimize the impact of this diary in the press, he should analyze it more thoroughly and focus his presentation on something else. Surely, a document this thick should have more to say than how angels soared through the sky.

Someone gasped behind him. Raphael glanced over his shoulder where Zadkiel was holding the arm of a red-eyed worker woman.

“Return what you just took,” his guard said.

His voice was calm and gentle, but his towering stature made the woman shiver in fear. She had Raphael’s wallet in her hand. The prince patted his pocket and found it empty.

Now, this was new, no one ever tried to steal from him before. His bodyguard was considerate enough to be quiet, but a golden uniform took notice. The guardian angel yanked the woman’s free hand at his eye level, twisting her body, and prompting the bodyguard to let go and spare her some pain.

“Well, that’s not a stamp,” said the guardian.

Every honorary angel had a tattoo on the back of their hand for identification. This one had a sloppy drawing instead of an official stamp of a public servant. The disguise was quite the risk, considering the prize was a truly insignificant amount of money Raphael had in his wallet.

“Impersonating an honorary angel and stealing from the Prince of Heaven,” the guardian said. “You think you can do whatever you want because this is your territory?”

The woman attempted to kick the guardian in the groin, only to fail and receive a punch across the face in return. Her body twisted to the side and just like that, her fire was vanquished. She didn’t struggle anymore. The other honorary angels looked at the scene saddened, yet accepting. The woman was let away, stumbling on her feet, and sobbing, only for the guardian to yank her arm—a stern wordless warning to shut up.

“Guardian Samael Mitrigard!”

Sienna’s voice pulled Raphael’s attention. He was surprised she knew the guardian’s name, he barely remembered the names of his closest bodyguards. His fiancée stepped in the way of the law enforcer, innocently blocking his way.

“I see you’re diligently keeping us safe as always.”

“Nothing to worry about, my lady, this one is a small fish.”

The guardian continued on his way without establishing eye contact, but Sienna placed a gentle hand on his chest.

“You’re right. Please, don’t waste your valuable time on a small fish. We need you to protect us from the real predators.”

Her nimble fingers discreetly placed several gold coins in the chest pocket. The guardian stood there in silence, processing his gains. Sienna smiled with all the charm of a noblewoman who would probably be this generous again should the need arise.

“Let’s forgive the small transgressions, in the name of practicality,” she said.

Samael Mitrigard was stone-faced for a few moments more before he made up his mind. He glanced at the demon woman. “See the mercy of angels? Say thank you!”

“Th-thank you,” the woman muttered.

The guardian pushed her away and she tripped backward. She quickly scrambled to her feet and ran away, still not fully comprehending she was spared for now. The honorary angels moved out of the way for her to pass and the other guardians let her through their defense formation.

“You shouldn’t be so lenient with the demons, my lady,” Samael Mitrigard said. “It confuses them, makes them think they’re worth something.”

Sienna’s charming expression was gone in an instant. She wasn’t even sparing a glance at him anymore, keeping her head up high in distant silence. He was unworthy of her further attention. Once the grumbling officer walked away, Raphael spoke again.

“You know, you did more harm than good,” he said. “He’ll harass her in her own home now. Nothing will change.”

“We'll make sure it does,” said Sienna. "Isn't that why we're getting married?"

That’s right, marrying each other offered powerful perks. Their social class, education, political views, and connections made them a perfect fit. It opened career opportunities and offered substantial influence in politics. To top it all, they were close friends since childhood, so their family life additionally promised a comfortable companionship.

Unfortunately, romance was an important building block of marriage they lacked. No matter how much they pretended they didn’t care, the awkwardness was leaking in the air.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Raphael asked. “There’s still time to cancel the engagement. Political pursuits aren’t worth the price of such a personal sacrifice.”

Sienna scowled. “Over a millennium of oppression, Raphael. It’s up to us to at least start undoing the mistakes of the past. I know we’ll find a way together. And besides,” a loving smile graced her face. “There are worse sacrifices than being married to you.”

Raphael smiled back. He wished his best friend would find true love, but maybe the sense of duty towards the demon race was her true love all along. Everything she said made so much sense. She was right. This was probably the only sound path for him, for both of them.

Sienna headed home first. Raphael stayed until all workers left the site. His servants packed up his tent and loaded his baggage into several carriages, heading for Alirie. He ordered the document he discovered to be sent to his room in the palace for further analysis.

After sundown, the site was bare of people and provisions. The capital was slowly lighting up for the night, especially Elden Palace—the place of his birth and the center of the entire world. A monument upon the twilight sky, lit up from all sides, to remind of its splendor.

In the meantime, the ghetto was about to turn pitch black. Plantlife grew on the side of most buildings. Dirt roads everywhere, garbage on the streets, and his excavation left an additional mess.

A century ago, there was a project to erect a city here, in hopes to revive some of the ancient architecture. However, the project lost funding, and the result was a vast construction wasteland full of unfinished, unstable structures. A few had already collapsed, others were slouching to the side, about to fall at any moment, but still holding up by some miracle.

The night shift of guardian angels arrived on horseback. Samael Mitrigard greeted his colleagues and joined them further into the concrete jungle. His shift was over, he should be going home. Raphael could think only of one reason why he was staying—he was going to harass the demons, possibly starting with that woman pickpocketer.

“Your Highness.”

Raphael got startled out of his thoughts. His bodyguard was impressively stealthy for his size, the prince had forgotten he was even here.

“It’s getting dark,” he said. “You shouldn’t stay in the ghetto any longer.”

“You’re right, Zadkiel.”

The cold night breeze licked over Raphael’s frame. The distant sound of the guardians’ laughter echoed through the buildings, establishing dominance over the local inhabitants. He spent a whole month here, surrounded by several teams of trained law enforcers. But now Raphael was alone with Zadkiel. It wasn't safe. And yet, something was pulling him further into the darkness.

“You’re dismissed,” the prince said.

He took out a large metal coin from his pocket and placed it in his bodyguard’s hand. It wasn’t money. It was a token for noble lords and ladies to give to their caretakers to be left alone. The token protected the servants. Should anything awful happen to their masters in their absence, they would be absolved from any responsibility.

“Have the night off,” said Raphael. “I’ll summon you again back at the palace.”

Reluctantly, Zadkiel left. Once he was alone, Raphael put on a beige cloak, long enough to hide his distinguishable royal attire as well as his sword, slipped on the hood, and took a walk. He was the only moving figure in the darkness of these ruins, but he knew better. The ghetto was teeming with people, their eyes were probably watching him from a distance.

Raphael followed Samael Mitrigard. He wasn’t sure how he could protect that poor woman. He could offer her a job that would grant her immunity from the guardian angels. Gaining her trust would be the hardest—after all, he was the face of authority that made the demons second-class citizens for the last thousand years.

“Stop him!” Someone screamed.

Raphael stopped in his tracks. Galloping of horse hooves sounded nearby. At least three guardians were chasing someone.

“He’s climbing the building!”

Raphael looked up. A human shadow appeared on the rooftop of the six-story construction and started climbing down, using every window, hole, and crevice, to its advantage. Not a single hesitation, not a second wasted, no stopping even to take a breath, the shadow was in complete control of every movement, at every second of the climb.

It was impressive to watch until a part of the wall crumbled. Raphael quickly moved out of the way of the falling concrete chunks. His heart skipped a beat for that poor climber about to meet his death right in front of him… only he didn’t.

A sharp wisp of air, splashed on all sides, like disturbed water. There should have been a broken pile of flesh and bones at the prince’s feet, but instead, a living body hovered in the air. A young man with a raven ponytail and eyes as red as blood, firmly focused on the night sky, was insolently defying gravity. Raphael forgot to breathe.

Moments passed, one after the other, and each second spent like this felt like an insult to the laws of nature. An eternity later, the young man exhaled deeply. His skinny body whipped in the air and landed firmly on his feet. He glared at Raphael over his shoulder, and the prince shivered. The demon said nothing, but his silence made it clear—he did not appreciate being seen.

“There he is!”

Several guardian angels appeared in view, and the young man continued running. The guardians galloped after him, not paying attention to the hooded figure.

Raphael let out a laugh and immediately clasped a hand over his mouth. A demon was flying. Not an angel, a demon. No one knew this. What he just witnessed could greatly influence the state of public knowledge, the political climate, and the most influential names in the royal court. It could crumble a thousand-year-old dynasty in a single year. Sometimes, the truth only needed one push.

Raphael was wrong—the world could change.