COMING of SAGE
A Novel by Angel Feneque
Edited by Christian F. Vega
Illustration by Edwin Rivera
Copyright © 2015 by Angel Feneque.
All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the Author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER I - DOMESTIC VIOLENCE
CHAPTER II - RACISM
CHAPTER III - PROSTITUTION
CHAPTER IV - SUICIDE
CHAPTER V - BULLYING
CHAPTER VI - HOMOSEXUALITY
CHAPTER VII - ABORTION
CHAPTER VIII - ADDICTION
CHAPTER IX - THE ULTIMATE SIN
GLOSSARY
SOURCES
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
To those souls who interacted with me by sharing their history, memories, afflictions, dreams and hopes. I will always remain grateful for their friendship and trust towards completing this manuscript. I dedicate this work to humanity, and may the universe grant us the wisdom and temperance to help one another.
For Maria and Athena
INTRODUCTION
A great civil war in heaven led angels that once reveled in love, compassion and serenity to destroy one another in apocalyptic proportions. Celestial beings in battle with the ability to transfer their gifts to one another during the time of their expiration. Lucifer, the catalyst who dared question the act of the creator, was preparing a coup d’état in paradise. Once a majestic angel juxtaposed to Michael, Gabriel and Raphael, the archangels and God’s most trusted minions. He was the prodigal son that developed envy at the latest creation. Confusion and frustration was setting by the praise God bestowed on these primordial creatures called humans. Lucifer saw it inequitable for himself and fellow angels to fall from primary grace to become servants to humanity.
Appalled by this prime directive, Lucifer planted the seed of doubt among the angels, and advocated for what he believed was their divine right to rule over these hairless apes. The deceiver convinced an entourage of angels into believing God had abandoned them over his new creation. The archangels knew of his treachery, but remained steadfast and awaited God’s orders. Angelic beings who were once partners and mentors became separated by the notion of supremacy: angels sworn to protect the word of God and humanity prepared for battle with celestial weapons by their flank. These special weapons forged in the sun’s fire designed specifically to destroy their kind. Those that sided with Satan sought to inherit the kingdom of heaven and fate of humankind. The war was brutal and timeless, but an angel decided out of “free will” to leave the side of Lucifer’s legion and rejoin God’s battalion.
This angel is known as Sage, and his actions will have Lucifer hunting him until the end of the universe, or all life ceases to exist. As the civil war came to a finish, Lucifer’s defeated angels were exiled from paradise and hurled into purgatory. Humans could now evolve under the protection of those angels loyal to God, while Sage roamed the earth in self-exile, isolated from humanity and civilization. The fallen angel spent eons contemplating and soul searching in some of the most remote, exotic and beautiful regions of the globe. He tries to reach out to God, seeking forgiveness, but the archangels intercept him. Instructed by God, the archangels reiterate that before he can enter the kingdom of heaven he must prove his faith and valor by protecting humans.
Note: The origins of God’s three creations are Angels crafted from his light; the Jinn from fire and humans, dust.
New York City
- Past and Present -
“And, I the Sage, declare the grandeur of his radiance in order to frighten and terrify all the spirits of the ravaging angels and the bastard spirits, demons, Liliths…”
Dead Sea Scrolls, “Songs of the Sage”
CHAPTER I DOMESTIC VIOLENCE
It is evening outside in New York City. Under darkness, the rain taps ferociously on the windows like a hundred hands knocking. It pours along the rooftops, the alleyways and the tenement brick walls indiscriminately, collecting the dirt and dust through the dulling veins of the city streets, forming a miasma of history. The rain lingers on the window panes like a hundred eyes peering, against the frames of time blurring the scenes like a muddy slate; the young growing old; the old growing mournful; backlit love spinning and dancing in the moment; sadness with blood-shot, bullet-hole arms searching in the distance.
The rain taps along the window on the second floor like footsteps. A family man named Rafael marches briskly up the building's steep steps, lulling himself into hypnosis by the voice of a demon present like a shadow underneath him, channeling the vices of adultery, deceit, and cruelty.
In the apartment, the front door opens with a vicious thrust. Hearing the sudden and imminent, though familiar danger, the mother pushes her two boys behind her for safety, and stares sternly into Rafael's bloodshot eyes.
“What happens here when I'm at work!” He yells. “Who's here fucking you?” He hurls an empty glass from the living room table at the floor beneath the mother's feet and the broken shards cut along her right ankle.
“What the hell is wrong with you!” She yells. “The children are--”
“You were looking through my things, weren't you? I told you to stop checking my phone and looking through my personal shit you whore!”
“Get out! Get out now!”
With sudden velocity Rafael charges at his wife, striking her with a right jab to the face.
“Do you think I'm stupid, bitch!”
Holding back tears, one of the boys runs toward his stepfather in an instinctive effort to protect his mother, his miniature hands clenched into fists. Rafael grabs the child and with a swift motion kicks him like a soccer ball at the wall to his left, chipping away at the wearing paint. Rafael twists his wife's arms as they twist over her face in retaliation. He clutches her neck as he slams her with brute force into the hard-wooden floor, and his fists rise and rain upon her with unrestrained might again and again, staining his knuckles and the ground below with blood.
The mother tells her sons to go into their room, but her sentences are fragmented by the beating.
“Please... stop,” she pleads, “the children... are watching.”
She’s losing consciousness from the repeated blows to her head and face. The demon watches enjoying the brutality, smiling at every merciless blow as she begs for mercy. The kids retreat to the corner of the living room, crying and trembling while watching the scarring horrors of domestic violence unfold.
Rafael’s hatred increases with each passing moment as the dark figure behind him feeds on odium. The demon senses a peculiar presence, but ignores it and hands Rafael a large knife from the kitchen. Rafael releases his wife in a sudden moment of bewilderment, looks at the weapon, and then looks at the smiling fiend. The wife is lying on the floor bleeding from her ears, nose, and mouth. She’s scarcely conscious as she witnesses her partner raising a knife towards her chest. She calls to God before passing out, embracing death.
At that moment, the demonic stroke is caught by a blurry image. Rafael turns to see who’s grabbing his wrist and preventing the final blow, and finds himself engaged in the presence of a Watcher, with the appearance of a man, staring deeply unto him with eyes cold as death. He releases the knife and drops to his knees, bursting into tears and begging for forgiveness. The demon who invokes divorce, Ataf yells, “Get up and fight! Finish what you started!” Rafael holds his head in pain and shuts his eyes tightly, screams a long and panicked scream, then collapses. Ataf turns to face this savior, and the two celestial beings prepare for an inevitable battle.
“I followed your repulsive scent to this apartment,” says the fallen angel to Ataf.
“Are you here to save father's precious creation, traitorous fuck!”
“Demons never find the right words to say, so they express themselves with profanity. The Jinn have better manners.”
Ataf’s eyes glow demonic red with hatred.
“Still trying to be good and holy? I’m gonna wipe that arrogance off your face!”
He tackles the angel, and they crash through the window, snapping the safety rails on the adjacent fire escape and falling two stories before crashing onto the ground. The demon tries to ascend, but the angel grabs his foot and slams him against the brick building. Ataf regains his composure and pulls out an ancient blade, known only to the celestial warriors who fought during the civil war in paradise: a sacred weapon, forged in the sun’s molten core, with the power to dissipate angels, Jinns and humans.
“You think father will take you back with heaven, opening its gates and allowing you to waltz right in?” Asks Ataf.
“If the gates don’t open then so be it, but you’re going back to hell.”
They slowly circle one another as Ataf holds his knife and waves it at the angel. He strikes, but his hand is caught by the wrist. They tackle each other to the ground, and wrestle through the broken bottles, cans, hypodermic needles and street paraphernalia scattered in the ghetto gardens of New York City. A stray dog stumbles upon the battle and howls, viewing without color images of God’s primary children: the angel's magnificent feathered wings, and Ataf's wings, charred, blood-red, and featherless, the angelic qualities willfully removed to take on an appearance like bat appendages. The innocent and animals are the only ones capable of seeing the characteristics of these fallen angels, and as such angels go unnoticed by humanity and are viewed rather as creatures of allegory. The fallen angels' magnificent wings, protruding from their backs with angelic and demonic features, can only be seen by those without sin. The angel holds Ataf's knife-wielding hand, preventing the knife from piercing any part of his body. They grapple and crash into their surroundings, with Ataf still wielding the knife as he struggles and pushes the blade closer to the angel's chest.
“Why fight for them?” Ataf asks. “Don’t you see they’re not worthy of your protection?”
The angel stares into Ataf’s eyes as they continue to struggle and spin.
“They are worthy, we’re supposed to love, guide and protect them, not destroy them!”
“You’re a sentimental fool. This world is full of hate and fear. These humans are more like Lucifer than God!”
The struggle turns as the angel overpowers him and the blade turns in his direction. “Wait,” Ataf pleads, “Don’t destroy me.” The angel looks upon him with apathy. The celestial weapon finds its mark and penetrates the demon’s chest. Ataf is fading, and before he dissipates to hell, the angel addresses him.
“Love and hope, not fear and hate, will blanket the world.”
Ataf screams as the knife is plunged deep into his chest, and collapses as light begins rising from his skin. The demon looks upward with eyes of sorrow as he dissipates into an abysmal pit that consumes his cadaver. The fallen angel stands alone as he looks down in an alley drenched by rain as it baptizes away the demonic stench. He surveys the building’s windows, noticing not a soul has viewed the battle: the tenants were ignoring the daily sounds of violence. He leaps to the fire escape and enters the apartment through the broken window. He judges the damage of domestic violence with empathy. The benevolent stranger tells the boys to stop crying. “It’s okay,” he tells them, “you’re safe.” He finds their mother lying on the floor unconscious, and he passes his right hand across her face, sealing the cuts and removing the bruises: A gift of healing he inherited from a dying angel.