The Last Nephilim

Chapter 1-2

Eli studied the bladeless hilt, touching the hand-wrought features of the gold on the handle crisscrossing in an alternating fashion with the turquoise blue X design. With his thumb, he felt the pommel at the end, smooth and rounded, the dark blue lapis lazuli, imported from the mountains of the Pashtu, in present-day Afghanistan. Oran had handed him the hilt just minutes before they stepped off the curb at JFK airport.

If the Mexican customs agent only knew what Eli held, the bribe probably would have cost Eli more than one crisp Benjamin Franklin. But Eli had told the official the hilt was a fake—a plaything he had received as a kid.

He wondered how old this item was, and which angel had held it first. Oran hadn’t known. Oran hadn’t told Eli how he obtained it either. The only information Oran had told him was circumspect at best: he believed the hilt had been mined near Ephesus close by the ruins of the Temple of Artemis. The sword was then held, supposedly, in the coffers of Constantine who had later conquered the area after the fall of Hellenistic Greeks. Oran told Eli the sword resurfaced again after Constantine’s time, but Oran hadn’t mentioned much other than that.

Eli knew that Ephesus also had an apocryphal connection based on Revelations, but he shrugged off any thoughts that the sword had been created or held for any end times purpose. He knew the early Christian Church had many followers in Ephesus, but he still couldn’t figure out why the ancient city in now modern day Turkey could somehow be related to the existence of what he had in his hand. Ancient Mesopotamia, The temple of Baal, or Baalbek, even Damascus—those he could accept as towns old enough to have some connection to the beautifully crafted weapon he held in his hand. But not Ephesus. Ephesus was more known for sheepherding in Eli’s time.

Eli scratched his head. Oran no longer had the power of a Nephilim, having forsaken the laws, but Eli could feel the power of the sword. Its energy hummed.

Had Oran himself tried to use this?

Eli closed his eyes and concentrated.

Would it work?

As he concentrated, he backed away from the edge of the bed to give himself some space. He focused on the object in his hand and felt energy pass from his upper body to his fingers, like electricity. He thumbed the end of the hilt and found a small hinge. Eli heard a buzz, and then the heat forced him to open his eyes.

He inhaled and then calmly studied what he saw before him: angel fire.

He watched the flames flicker, red then yellow then gold, all alternating in its brightness and steadiness. He turned his wrist, and the fire didn’t change its form.

His mother had told him when he was a child about how the angel swords were used by the cherubim and the archangels. How a sword like the one he held guarded the entrance to Heaven. Another sword had warded off the legendary entrance to the Garden of Eden after the Expulsion.

Eli studied the power in his hands. The one thing in this world that could kill him was now in his possession. He had never sought one; and until just a few hours ago in New York City, doubted that any of them existed. In this plane of existence, anyway.

The flame from the hilt burned orange-red for about six feet, extending outwards as a metal sword would. Eli noticed a thin color of blue appeared when he held it at an angle. The length of the flame was shorter than what he was told as a child.

No doubt limited in length because of who he was.

Eli mentally told the flame to stop, and he relaxed. He loosened his grip and the fire disappeared. He thumbed the beautiful inlay again. Eli then took out his cell phone and texted Oran. It works! Thank you! When are you going to tell me how you got it?

Eli had waited several seconds before Oran texted back. You are welcome, my friend. I hope you never have the use for it.

Eli waited; he wanted to see if Oran would answer his question. Eli had never held an angel sword before and wondered how long Oran had this in his possession. After several seconds of staring at his phone, waiting for Oran to respond, Eli then heard a gentle knock on the door. He threw a towel over the sword, marveling that the metal was cold to touch, and opened up the adjoining hotel room door.

Josh stood by the door, still dressed in the same clothes he wore on the flight from New York. “Hey, Uncle Eli, Sully and I are hungry. Are we going out to eat?”

“Yeah. We can go. I’m getting hungry, too. Are you guys ready?”

Josh nodded. “As soon as Sully’s done in the bathroom. What’s the plan anyway? Are we doing anything tonight?”

Eli shook his head. “I think it’s already too late. We spent way too much time retrieving our luggage, going through customs and the hour-long drive to this hotel didn’t help.”

Josh looked down at his shoes, his hands in his pockets as he mumbled a response. “Okay.”

Eli noticed the slouch and the absent look that Josh had as he diverted his gaze. “When we’re back in from dinner, we can plan out what we’ll do. I’m as anxious as, if not more than, you to find your father.” When Josh didn’t look up and just nodded. Eli added, “Don’t worry, everything will be all right.”

Josh nodded but didn’t say anything.

“Trust me, Josh. Everything will be all right.” Josh nodded again, and Eli stepped forward and hugged Josh. “You’re my family, Josh. You and Micha. Your dad will be happy to see you. I know it.”

Eli felt Josh’s hand pat Eli’s back. “Thanks, Uncle Eli.” Josh broke off the hug and retreated to his hotel room. Eli’s preternatural hearing heard Josh knock on the bathroom door.

Eli turned back to his own adjoining room and the towel that covered the weapon. He sensed something but couldn’t put a finger on the feeling he just had. He scanned the room. No flickers of energy. No signs of angel presence in the area. Eli, himself, hadn’t spoken to his father since Josh started living with him. He wondered why his father had been silent. It wasn’t unusual for long moments of silence or lack of contact between them. He missed the warm presence of his father. His thoughts turned to Josh and Josh’s nervousness, about meeting Adam Michaelson for the first time.

His stomach knotted for a second as he thought about meeting Micha again. A Micha who wouldn’t know of their past lives together.

I hope everything works out right, too, Josh.