incandescens | Interesting Times fic

For In Nomine players following the Interesting Times AU.

Pilgrimage

The shadows of the Prince of Factions lay in bubbling swirls across the Marches, ebbing and flowing with each passing gust of wind. Khalid had pursued him here, across the mountains and valleys of dreams and nightmares, all the way from the field of Armageddon to this place of darkness.

"And have you come to me again?" Malphas taunted with a thousand mouths. It had cast aside his pleasant human face, and now hung revealed in its full Shedite foulness. "How many times, fanatic, have you and your followers listened to me and shed blood in the name of Allah? Do you still consider yourself one of Heaven's angels -- or have you seen at last that they are as corrupt as all the other things in the universe?" Poisoned honey dripped through its voice, making it a thing of terrible beauty. "You have come to stand alone before me, upholder of Faith. Stand with me instead against those who deserve your judgement. The infidels. The unrighteous. The Sword. Those who have slain your children."

"It is strange that you should speak of swords," Khalid said, and raised his blade. "My brother Laurence placed this in my hand before the battle, and blessed it in the name of God. I bear it in the name of Uriel, peace be upon him, who fashioned us both in God's service."

Malphas loomed above him. "Do you know what I am?"

Khalid raised his head to regard the Prince calmly, dispassionately. "In the Book it says; do not dispute with one another lest you fail and your moral strength desert you. You are the disputation and the conflict which brings doubt to the hearts of men and leads them away from Allah. This day shall I put an end to you, Prince of Factions, in the name of Allah and for the souls of men."

"You will try. You shall fail." The words hissed across the sands of the Marches like knives.

"In God's hands," Khalid replied, and prepared himself for the onslaught.

Malphas fell upon him in a wind of darkness and biting mouths, screaming jaws, bloody tongues; it was all the doubts which had assaulted Khalid in the long watches of the night, all the moments of uncertainty, every time that a friend's word had been a dagger in his heart, every time that a friend's action had been a betrayal. And it was stronger than Khalid, there was no doubting it. It was a mighty Prince of Hell, and disputation still held too strong a grip on all the beings of the world, save God alone. Khalid was God's servant, and he held to his faith in God's word, but Archangel as he was, now he was a leaf against Malphas' furious storm, the moonlight on the surface of the water. He bled, and he prayed to God for strength to endure.

The blade which his brother Laurence had given him was firm in his hand. It would endure. His brother also. He as well. These things he would have faith in.

Malphas drew back as Khalid went down upon one knee, and as Khalid had known it would, the Shedite paused to laugh.

"Why did you lead me here?" the Shedite whispered. Its voice rattled like fallen leaves in the wind. "Was it that you desired to die alone and in despair? Were you so ashamed to have the others see you die?"

Khalid shook his head.

"Then why?" Malphas asked again, extending leisurely tentacles towards him. "Where are your angels, Archangel of Faith? What trust brought you here alone?"

Khalid looked up, and Malphas recoiled from the blazing surety in his eyes. "Because the faithful have been called, and they answer me."

"There are no faithful here!" Malphas mocked, but his eyes swung around him in a thousand pivoting movements. "This is the land of dreams. How could --"

A brazen trumpet shattered the still air, cutting through the Prince's words, and the hills around them shuddered in response, and fell. Where they had been, no longer cloaked by illusions, minarets and citadels of marble and gold and onyx stood bright against the shadows of the Marches, and a thousant flaming spirits came rushing out like sparks from a candle, each one bearing a weapon, each one calling on the name of Allah. They came down upon Malphas in a swarm of gold too bright for the eye to look upon, and the Prince screamed as their weapons cut into him.

"It has been revealed to me," Khalid said, rising to his feet, "that a party of the Djinn listened, and they said: Lo! we have heard a marvellous Qur'an, which guideth unto righteousness, so we believe in it." The faith of the Djinn rang in him like an endless peal of bells, like a call to prayer, and his sword was as light as a feather in his hand, his wounds no longer pained him. "Behold, Prince of Hell; the faithful shall be united against you, and you shall not prevail."

Khalid brought his sword down in a mighty blow that cleaved through embodiment and spirit and Forces alike, into the single centre of the Prince of Factions. Malphas struck back, screaming, but he died even as he struck, and was gone, burned away to ash, his monstrous form scattered upon the sudden wind that took him.

"And so --" Khalid raised a hand to his breast, and looked almost with puzzlement at his own blood, as he went slowly down to his knees again. He no longer had the strength to stand. His Djinn flocked around him, dancing in fury and despair and bewilderment, some still singing praises at the Prince's destruction and gratitude for God's intercession, but others beginning to mourn as they felt his Forces tremble and loosen.

It was enough. He had done what he knew must be done; he had not allowed Malphas to trouble the battlefield as the Prince surely would have done, he had bidden his angels stand with those of Laurence, he had brought the Prince of Factions to where it could be destroyed, and it had been as God wished.

He wished that there had been time to see his brother again, that they might rejoice in God's triumph on the Last Day, but -- no, it was no parting, it was only that he went a little way before. They would see each other once again, and embrace as brothers before their father Uriel, God's peace be upon him. Here at the threshold of death, he could feel other Archangels beside and before him, hear the singing of Creation as he went rejoicing on the way towards the eternal Light.

"Laurence," he whispered, as the darkness overshadowed him. "Tell my brother. I believe in God, and that Muhammad is the prophet of God . . ."

Elsewhere, in the distance, he heard a great scream of rage and a cry of triumph as Freedom made her choice, but his feet were already on the path that so many believers had taken before him.