Heaven, Hell, and Everything in Between

Chapter 6: Battleschool

CH.6 Battleschool

That night in Heaven I was taken by Rollo to a new building. This one had simple brick walls and no roof. I walked in the arch that posed as the front door, and almost walked right into an older angel, though older is most likely a relative term considering were I was.

"Watch it, you little pipsqueak! You almost knocked me over!" He gave me one look, and I instantly knew this old shoe leather angel was going to be my teacher, and he wasn't happy about it. Luckily Rollo was there to put out the fire with his usual antics.

"Oh, come off it you old battle-axe," he half laughed the words, "you're as stiff as concrete and always will be. You never were one to like change, and I don't have to let you take it out on poor Sam here."

I was relieved when the angel backed away from my face, and I let the breath I was holding out of my trembling chest. I could tell he was still grumpy, so I let Rollo do all of the talking. "Sam may be mortal," he said, "but just yesterday he killed a Corfaea in under a minute."

"That was more the sword than him and you know it." The old angel said, "He has no training what so ever and should never have that sword in the first place."

"Hey!" I said indignantly, "I didn't choose to fight you know, I got stuck with the job because I seem to have a lot of luck, so don't talk to me about not needing a sword."

The angel got a look that said 'stay out of this whelp'. I was all too eager to comply. As he and Rollo argued about something that Rollo must have goofed up in the past, Shikia walked up behind the old angel and smacked him over the head with her wing. I don't know about him but I'd rather not be within range of those wings right now. Shikia looked furious, and might have wound up to smack him again if he hadn't stopped her. "Hold it, hold it," he said, "no need to get mad."

"We are wasting valuable time that could be used for training Mr. Marco here," she sounded as mad as she looked, "and you two are using it to squabble over things that happened a century ago!"

"Sorry." they both mumbled, their eyes studying the floor.

"Now Rocko," she said, "I want you to be patient with this boy, don't cut his arm off in the first hour because you get bored or you will answer to me. Understand?"

"Yes mam." he replied.

"And Rollo, don't bother these two for a while, they need to concentrate." she added with a pointed finger, "the antics you usually play are not to be done within ten feet of the building, or I will personally see to it you are removed from the Lord's Forces and stuck cleaning the Armory for the next millennia. Got it?"

Rollo seemed to get the message, and marched out the arch double-time. As soon as he had left, Shikia turned to me. "I want you to listen to Rocko's every word as you practice," she said, "He may be a stubborn old tightwad, but he's the best trainer in the Lord's High Battalion."

"Got it." I said, suddenly not sure if I wanted to train or not. But, a deal was a deal, and so I turned to Rocko and said in my most polite voice, "When do we start?"

Rocko looked at me, then gave Shikia a look that probably said 'He'll be running for home in two hours, don't go anywhere'. I suddenly had a feeling this was going to be fun for him, and torture for me. I reluctantly followed him out into the field, and watched Shikia calmly walk out the entrance arch. I was on my own, and weather I made it back in one piece was yet to be seen. Right off the bat Rocko had me doing pushups, and didn't let me stop until I was about to collapse.

"That should be a good warm-up," he said, "now the real work begins."

"Did he say warm-up!?" I thought to myself, "He's going to kill me before I get out of here!" Rollo hadn't been kidding when he called Rocko an old battle-axe. He had me running for miles without water, lifting weights that were bigger than two of me, and I never got to pick up my sword once. I was about to pass out from the pain when he finally said I could stop. I fell on the floor and lay there, gasping for breath and only half-aware of what was around me.