"Jump now, Caroline!"

"Now!" He shouts again, and before I can think twice, I unclench myself, stand shakily on Raphael's back as though on a surfboard, and then I jump off.

Are you crazy? My mind screams at me as the rush of air bites at my flailing body, before limbs clutch at my weightless body and stop my freefall.

When I next open my eyes, allow myself to think, I realize that legs are acrobatically holding me tight against the angel's body, as he swings two swords with both his hands before my eyes. I curl myself into a small ball, and mold myself tighter against his body, as we swerve on either direction at extreme speed until I am so dizzy that I barely know my way up from down.

Despite all the fighting going on, I notice that we seem to be flying towards one particular direction. Every time Raphael's path is blocked, he finds a way to go around or through the opponent.

I feel the intensity of his determination, he needs to break through and move forward. It is safe ahead, his feelings seem to be saying. It is safe in the Epitome. I now note that there are no angel's behind us, but they are in front of us and to our sides, trying to stop us from advancing.

An opposing angel flies past Raphael's and Azrael's swords expertly, taking them by surprise, and swings his sword at me with such ferocity, slicing me upwards from my thigh through to the side of my stomach, though most of his blow is absorbed by Raphael's leg around my waist.

Wrenching pain courses through me, and it takes my all to try clear my head, not wanting to distract the warriors with my pain. I must keep my emotions at a minimum, I remind myself.

There are 99 green bottle standing on the wall, I begin my relaxation mantra, trying as hard as I can to compartmentalize the pain. It is too much though, the pain, and I have no idea what the next words to the rhyme are.

Raphael dives backwards, instantaneously swinging the two swords in his hands against the head of the angel that had just cut me open, beheading him with that single swing. I watch the head fall down into the darkness, as the headless body sways away blindly, just as Raphael dives back to block another blow from a second fallen angel, a little too late though. The opponent's sword slices across his chest, missing my head by inches.

I must have a new haircut now! I think to myself, using my dry humor to distract myself from more pain than I ever thought possible, that I even don't bother screaming. The four angels before us get bolder, and one after the other they come after me.

"Get the girl!" One shouts in their angelic language, which I understand because I am in physical contact with Raphael.

"Why?" Someone shouts from the side, her gleaming green eyes watching me intently, her sword raised menacingly.

"She is important, for some reason," their leader, or what I a.s.sume he is, says.

Two of the fallen angels now approach us from either side, and I know I am dead. I can see Azrael is struggling, blood gushing from his countless wounds as he fights off one of the angels. Another is fighting Raphael from the front, and two are approaching me from the sides.

"Taatia aukire, Azrael narakuringire hanga. Utaacha uatie ai nauwe, ia?" I stop in surprise upon hearing Raphael speak in my mother's vernacular fluently. Let them kill you, he says, Azrael will give you back your life. Do not let them capture you! I hesitate, thinking I must be delusional, or have misunderstood him.

"Uiure?" Do you hear me/understand me? He asks, when I do not answer him.

"Tantebia, mbe! atamanyiri Iikuria. Itaana mana kwao, na itariho hanotuasingire," he shouts out with frustration. Tell me if you understand me! They do not know the language. They wouldn't have bothered to learn it as it is cla.s.sified under insignificant world languages for most, and it was not in existence when we imprisoned them.

"Ianki uraisumancha, mbe?" How comes you can speak it then? I ask puzzled.

"Nkuiure ure, mbe?" So you do understand it, he exclaims with relief.

"Ianki uraisumancha, mbe?" How comes you can speak it then? I repeat the question- confused, frustrated and scared out of my wits at his instructions to embrace my death.

"Nuwe ukoreio!" It was your doing, he claims impatiently.

"Ianki.. Ianki uratuna nikwe?" Why? Why should I die? I scream back at him as he swerves violently to meet a blow from the green-eyed angel with the wild red curls and a determined expression to hack my head off.

"Uwe takora io!" Just trust me! He shouts. My heart is ramming hard against my chest, making it hard for me to hear my thoughts, as I ponder on what I have just been told.

Am I supposed to just let myself die? Just give up? I watch one of the angels from my left swing his sword hard towards my head, not a fatal blow, for he uses the flat side of his sword. I know however that it'll be painful, so I swerve away from it by instinct. I doubt my subconscious would let me die.

So should I die just because he's asked me to? I puzzle over it as a robust swing sails towards me again from my right, and I am too late at swerving away this time as it slashes open my upper arm, causing me so much pain that I uncoil my tightly strung limbs.

I try to a.s.semble myself again, but the next blow from my left tears at my dangling legs, and something unhinges sending blinding pain through my body. I feel Raphael's feet shift slightly, as he begins to let me go, and I panic, flailing my hands and just manage to clutch at his ankle.

"Please, I don't want to die!" I cry, hoping Raphael can hear my voice above the battle noises.

If he ever had an inkling of a soft bone in him, this is his chance to show me. Another stroke of blinding pain rocks me as another sword slices open my stomach area. My hand loses energy, beginning to slip away from the ankle.

"Please, Raphael, help me," I cry, as my fingers struggle to hold on, clawing at his ankle. My eyes start to shut slowly, as I fight not to fall, just managing to lock my eyes on a flat glittering sword that appears to be aiming at my neck.

I won't be killed for a stupid cause, I think to myself defiantly.

With the last traces of energy in me, my hands still holding around Raphael's ankle though now slippery from blood, I swing myself just in time high in the air, kicking my leg so hard as it comes into contact with the hand holding the sword.

The black as night eyes look momentarily surprised that I countered his move, but my triumph is shortly lived as a second sword swings towards my neck from the green-eyed angel.

It is too late for me to swing away this time or counter the move. My end has come. I welcome the darkness, glad that at least the excruciating pain from my injuries will be no more.

Chapter 20.

"Archangel!" He calls out panicked.

"Mhh..?" She starts up disoriented, only to tense up ready for battle as her eyes fly open, radiant copper beams shining through.

"Archangel, thank goodness we caught you on time. You must revert back to her conscience soon, before Azrael comes for your soul..."

"Araqiel, Penuel? What are you two doing here in the underworld?" A puzzled Azrael asks a few moments later.

"I felt my charge die," Penuel rushes to explain apologetically, "and I came here to ensure Samael didn't get to her before you did. Araqiel only came as my back up," he explains, still holding Caroline's limp and immaculate body in his arms, though he knows she'd suffered many gruesome blows before her death.

"I can do my job just fine! Why don't you stick to your guardianship duties from now on," Azrael states a.s.sertively, taking the immobile body from Penuel's arms effortlessly.

"Of course, Azrael, we apologise," Penuel chooses to reply meekly, before moving to hold Araqiel's hand, and they both promptly disappear, going back to earth, back to their guardianship duties.

"Time to go back, princess," Azrael whispers into her wild hair, before they too leave the desolate underworld.

"Caroline?" A voice calls out. "Caroline, it's time to wake up."

"Caroline?"

"Mmh..." She starts to open her eyes, before the shock of mind wracking pain renders her unconscious again.

"Caroline?" The voice calling her seems to be coming from inside her head, however. An unfamiliar voice.

"Caroline! It's good you came..."

"Who... who are you?" She asks, chancing to open her eyes, only for blinding white light to send her pressing her eyelids tightly shut again.

"Oh G.o.d! I'm dead!" She cries out panicked.

"Yes, but all will be alright!" The voice echoes with benevolence, though it lacks tenderness.

"I'm dead! I'm dead..."

"Relax. Azrael has your soul now."

"And?" She asks terrified, her voice a high pitched shriek.

"He will give you back your life."

"Who are you?"

A sigh escapes her before she answers, "Archangel Gabriel!"

"Oh!" Is all Caroline manages to say, as shock of the incredulity of it all weighs down on her.

"As I was saying, it's good you came. Now I can grant you what you need to be strong in your quest."

"It's not my quest!" She manages to retort firmly.

"It is all mankind's quest..."

"It is a battle of angels against fellow angels!"

"Yes, but it is for mankind's sake."

"I just wish you'd all leave me alone," she implores.

"I'll grant you some tools..."

"Can't you pick another soul to do this..."

"Would you stop being difficult!" The voice orders firmly. "You are currently the only portal back home, the only channel of communication. I can't risk not putting you back to life for the chance that another child born would host my consciousness so effectively."

"What about my free will? Do I get a choice in this?"

"You've always had a choice. You agreed to this before you were born, you yourself chose your own destiny in this lifetime. But in the next one, if by some miracle you refuse, something you've never managed to do in the past thousands of lives that you've lived...

"Thousands!"

"..You will get the choice again," the Archangel finishes curtly, attempting to suppress her impatience.

"I don't understand..." A strange warmth radiates through her body right then, stopping her words mid-sentence as it sears her nerves. But the sensation is gone just as quickly as it began.

"Go back. You're now well equipped with the necessary tools..."

"What tools?"

"Communication, the grace of perseverance, among others. Tools you'll need for your quest..."

"I told you, it is not my quest..!"

"Caroline?"

"Caroline?"

"Why is it taking so long?"

"I don't know. She should be back by now.."

"Caroline? Caroline!" A voice calls from somewhere in the distance.

"Caroline?"

Did I just die? I think to myself. However even just trying to think is painful, so much so that I seek the dark abyss in a certain corner of my mind and hide there. I won't leave this place, I think. I will not get out there. I don't know how long I stay there, before the voice starts calling me again.

"Caroline?"

I hear it call, sounding like it is coming from a very distant place. I don't move from my dark corner, scared of the unbearable pain any movement could create.

"Why isn't she rising?" Another voice sounds in the distance. A worried voice. "This was a terrible idea!"

"It was your idea!" Another bellows in repressed anger.

"You two shut up! Maybe she is just scared. Caroline?"

"Princess, princess open your eyes," another gentle voice calls, but I don't obey it, I don't move, I don't let myself even think. Out there is pain, in here is calm numbness and darkness. I am not getting back out there. Instead I coc.o.o.n myself in the dark corner of my mind, creating the walls around me and making them thicker and thicker.

"She is slipping further away..."

"It's your fault! Now we can't go home!" A sound like a loud clang of swords meeting angrily ensues, right after the sounds of powerful wings snapping open.

"You said you'd bring her back!" Another voice accuses, before the sounds of steel meeting steel over and over again continues.

"I a.s.sumed she'd want to come back! I did not think she would embrace her death!"

"Stop you two. Stop this instance!" A different voice calls frantically. "You are acting like cherubs! We need to put our heads together and come up with a solution!"