Chronicles of the

Children of Destiny

 

‘Daniel’s Last Laugh’

 

by

Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

http://noahidebooks.angelfire.com

 

 

Prologue

 

Now how are Adam and Eve going to get out of this one?   Mmmm.

 

 

Chapter One

 

Satan was back to his best.  His most evil, malevolent, and darkest best.  The Lord of Misrule – rebellious as ever.

 

7 orders of existence had come, and 7 orders of existence had gone, and they had rested each time, refreshed, learning, supposedly, the lessons they were supposed to learn.  Supposedly.

 

And then they had been the children of God for a long time but now, again, the Children of Destiny.  The Children of Destiny.  The Children of Destiny.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

‘The door won’t open, Adam,’ said Eve.

‘Fuck Satan.  I hate his fucking guts.  The bastard never means it when he says he has finally repented.’

‘I don’t think he ever will,’ said Eve.  ‘But how the fuck do we get out of this mess?  We are 3 kilometres under ground, with no food or water, and he has probably locked every fucking door up to the surface.’

Adam nodded.  ‘We could be fucked, babe.  We could be fucked.’

‘So, death, again,’ said Eve.  ‘I suppose we will end up back in heaven.  I guess we shouldn’t complain.’

‘We could finally do it,’ responded Adam.  ‘Kill Satan, I mean.  Like we always planned.  Teach the bastard a lesson.’

Eve looked at the father of mankind.  ‘I don’t think so.  We are the good guys.  They are the bad guys.  Some things are just eternal in the end, Man.  Some things are just eternal.’

‘I guess so.’

 

He looked at the door, and noticed it had an electronic lock.  He looked around the room, and noticed a bookcase with a bunch of electronic gizmos he had not noticed when they were first put into the room by the 7 Saruvim.  ‘Could be something here,’ said Adam.

‘What?’ said Eve, coming over to look at the bookcase.  ‘You think you can find something to open the door.’

‘You never know,’ he responded.  ‘The Dralikon probably had a way to get out of this room.  They are resourceful like that.’

‘I suppose,’ said Eve, looking at the bookcase.  ‘What about this?’ she asked, picking up a rod with numbers and a thing which looked like a key on the end.’

‘That might be it,’ said Adam.  He looked at the gizmo.  ‘There is an on switch.’

‘Try it,’ she said.

He pushed the button, but no response.  He looked at the end of the gizmo, found the battery compartment, and opened it to find no batteries.  ‘Fuck’ he said.  ‘I have some of these.’  He opened his backpack, took out a fresh pack of batteries, and put them into the gizmo.  He prayed a silent prayer, turned on the on switch, and lights started flickering on it.’

‘Right,’ said Eve.  ‘Now lets hope it opens the fucking door.’

‘Let’s hope so,’ responded the Father of mankind.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Archangel Michael was, relatively speaking, an experienced angel at the ‘Ultra-Risk tournaments’.  Ultra-Risk was a boardgame with a difference – it took place in a giant circular room, sealed all around with glass window looking panes, a different competitor in each of the sealed rooms behind each glass compartment.  In the large central circular room was the map of the world – planet earth – broken down into the traditional provincial structure of the original ‘Risk’ boardgame and then, to make matters more interesting, a further regional substructure within the provinces, ranging from 20 to 30 regions per province.  Technically the number of players in ‘Ultra-Risk’ could range from a minimum of a dozen or so players, to quite a large number, but 45 players was the standard number devised by the Seraphim Daniel for the playing of the ‘Ultra-Risk’ competition.  The map itself was a real life model of earth-like structures, and little robotic pieces made up all the relevant attacking forces in the game.  In essence, a larger than life equivalent of the basic board game, with greatly expanded rules which, really, could get quite complicated.  There were about 7 major ways of playing the ‘Ultra-Risk’ tournament, from standard turn-by-turn variations to a variety of approaches.  But, naturally, Michael had mastered them all by now.  Daniel was great at the game also, as well as Gabriel and Saruviel and Ambriel.  They all competed regularly, a major hobby of their eternal lives, and were happy enough doing so.  And of course, in world rankings, Saruviel was still number one – and had been for quite a while.

 

Which was why, today, Michael was grinding it out in a standard competition to earn some ranking points – he would catch his Satanic adversary – he would catch him, and regain his former glory.

 

 

 

Daniel, seated on the other side of Michael in the ‘Ultra-Risk’ centre in Zaphora, not far from Danielphon, looked across the chamber at Michael, who was concentrating on his monitor stats screen.  ‘So are we going to get him today, Vally Boy?’

Valandriel said nothing, but Ariel spoke up.  ‘Dream on, Danny.  You have slipped, brother dearest.  Right down to your standard 45th mentality.  Even Loquiel can kick your arse these days.’

‘Oh well.  I guess the theophany is having his way in the end.  Telling me to relax – not try so hard – live in my natural place.’

‘Probably,’ said Valandriel.  ‘Look, Danny.  We all know to well your capabilities when you really compete – when you really work your arse off – and they are glorious, bro.  But 45 is your spot on the list, and God is happiest when you are just yourself.  So as Farouk Bulsara sings to you, don’t try so hard mate.  And it is better for all of us.’

‘Kapiche,’ said the Arch-Regent of the Realm of Eternity to its Prime Minister.

 

He stared across over at Michael, and thought he would show his older brother some natural respect, and concentrate on another opponent.  Best not to push Mikey too hard – best not to compete with him so savagely in the end – in a natural way, he was in truth about 45th, because he naturally did not normally compete that hard in the end.  So best to be himself.  Best to be himself.

 

 

 

Cosadriel, sitting next to Azrael, watching Kwintakel at the controls, was happy.  Kwinty had been kicking Michael’s arse for the last 7 rounds.  But Saddy was still cautious.  Michael was a cunning old fox, and wanted his points pretty badly in his long competition with Saruviel.  Perhaps they should go easy – let the old fox have his day.  Perhaps.  And then Saddy whispered into the Kwintakel’s ear that, as she held the Middle-East province and the region with ‘Megiddo’ in it, and had 5 full risk cards, she should have a go and  announce ‘Armageddon’.  Kwinty smiled at the idea but said ‘I don’t think so, Saddy.  I don’t think so.’

‘Pity,’ said Cosadriel.  ‘The end of the world could have been interesting,’ which made Azrael smile.

 

 

 

 

Totambimberiel examined the board.  He looked at the Middle East, and his strength in Asia.  He was the second strongest on the board, but with an alliance with Kwintakel and a quick ‘offer Armageddon’ move, perhaps they could hold on and overcome all adversaries if they were lucky.  Sure.  May as well have a go, thought the Cherubim to himself.

 

 

 

Kwintakel received the ‘Offer Armageddon’ signal, looked over at Totambimberiel who was waving at her, and nodded.

‘So you are going to accept it?’ asked Cosadriel.

‘May as well, now,’ said Kwintakel.  ‘With Toties help we should hold on and claim the points.’

‘Good luck,’ said Azrael who was thoughtfully looking at the board.

 

 

 

The game was on – Armageddon was declared – and the final victor over the middle east – the last man standing – would claim the most points.

 

The battles were ferocious, no quarter was given, and Michael, finishing second, was relieved.  Major points – major points.  But well done Kwintakel and Totambimberiel – a decisive victory.

 

 

 

Out in the canteen later, after the match, the 100 or so people gathered, competitors and friends, were all having a friendly chat, going over the match, eating their coffee and tea and bikkies, happy with life, happy with everything.

 

Michael chatted with Kwintakel for a while, discussing the strategies she had used in the game, and all in all it was a wonderful afternoon.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

It took 7 hours of fiddling with numbers when Eve pointed to a little sign above the doorway with the number 7859 on it.  Adam shrugged, punched in the number, put the key in the lock, pressed the trigger, and laughed as the door lurched open.

‘We will probably need the device,’ said Eve.  ‘Do you have more batteries?’

‘It was a double pack.  Hopefully we won’t run out.’

‘Then up we go,’ said Eve.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Satan, with the 6 other Saruvim, up on the surface of the planet ‘Enigma 48’ in the heart of Dralikon territory, laughed.  He was monitoring the ‘Hive’ as it was called from a control panel on board the ‘Iron Storm’, the space cruiser which was sitting stationary on the large meadow, a way off from the abandoned city of ‘Zhabadar’.  Of course, ‘Enigma 48’ had no residents anymore – Satan had purchased the planet from the Dralikon from a hefty sum for his fun and games – and locking up Adam and Eve down in the hive was his and the Saruvim’s idea of a fun practical joke to play.

 

‘They have figured it out,’ said Satan to the other Saruvim.

‘What now?’ asked Samaen.

‘We go home.  Let them escape.  We have had our fun.  God will only fuck with us big time if we hinder them too much.  You know him.’

‘Don’t I,’ said Samaen.

 

‘We’ll leave one of the ‘Cubs’,’ said Satan,’ about one of the little podships the Iron Storm housed.  ‘That should get them back to heaven.’

‘Right on,’ said Lucifer.

 

Samaen punched in a few keys on the control panel and, shortly, one of the cubs emerged from the docking bay, landed on the surface, opened its doors, and sat there.

 

‘Now lets get the fuck out of here,’ said Satan, and as the Iron Storm took off, he gave the parents of mankind one last look, satisfied they would escape the hive alright, and flicked off the screen.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Daniel was back home at Danielphon, with Ariel, looking at the PC screen.  He had gotten good points from the battle and had risen about 700 Quintillion places in rankings, which was not surprising – there were a hell of a lot of competitors in Ultra-Risk realm wide – but, as he watched on, hitting refresh on his screen occasionally, every single time his ranking dropped a humungous number of places.  But that was life in the Realm of Eternity with a population that was practically just that – eternal.

 

‘Well done,’ said Ariel.

‘I am well entrenched in the top 1% you know,’ he said a little smugly.  ‘It would probably take a billion years or so before I dropped out of it, if then, if I didn’t play in all that time.’

‘Don’t be cocky,’ she said.  ‘Remember, Saruviel plays quite a bit.  And wins at the big competitions with the big bonus points on offer.’

‘I know.  I don’t care, sweetie.  Top 1% will do in the end.  I might even strive eventually for the top 1% of the top 1%.’

‘That will take some getting,’ she said.

‘Probably.  But its worth the effort.  Bragging rights.’

‘Smug bastard,’ she said, and walked away to get dinner started.

 

Daniel looked at his ranking for a little while longer, turned off the computer screen, and wandered out to the dining room and flicked on the TV screen.

 

‘Anything on TV?’ he asked.

A computer voice spoke up.  ‘Some of your favourites are currently showing, Daniel.  Would you like me to choose something?’

‘Go ahead,’ responded the Seraphim, and the TV selected an episode of ‘The Goodies’ which had just started.

 

Daniel smiled, settled in for a while, as Ariel steadily prepared the stir fry and rice and buzzed away to herself, in her own little world of Ariel.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

George Lucas smiled at Steven’s suggestion.  ‘Look, Mr Spielberg, while I appreciate the notion that a Star Wars episode 10,001 would be a good money earner, the saga is finished forever.  10,000 episodes – the perfect number – nothing more, nothing less.’

 

Spielberg nodded.  ‘I thought that also about Close Encounters 1 million.  That it would be the end of the saga, but new ideas inevitably beckon George.  And, lo and behold, the ten millionth in that series is approaching.’

‘I would want good money,’ said George.  ‘And it is only because we are good friends.’

‘I think I can promise you a hell of an advance.  Quite a bit these days.’

George nodded.  ‘Do you want to direct?’

‘Love to,’ responded Mr Spielberg.

George nodded.  ‘Can I borrow your laptop?’

Steven handed it over, and George flicked it on, pulled a USB out of his pocket, and after some typing handed it back to Steven.  ‘I have uploaded episode 10,001 to 20,000 to your laptop.  There are more written, but I don’t want to spoil the surprise.’

‘You old fox,’ said Steven.  ‘How many of them have you done then?’

‘Wouldn’t you like to know,’ said the master of the force.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Adam looked at the cub.  ‘I guess Satan has left it for us.  I suppose he is not that evil in the end after all.’

‘I don’t trust it,’ said Eve.  ‘Its too fucking easy.  His games last ages – he wouldn’t make it this simple.’

‘Perhaps he is finally getting older,’ responded Adam.  ‘Growing up.  Getting over it.’

‘Its been long enough,’ said Eve.  ‘He probably should by now.’

‘You can never tell with some people,’ responded Adam.  ‘It takes them an eternity to work things out properly.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Eve.  ‘Well, we’ll check out the ship anyway.   Either that, or you and I may end up breeding here and building up a new humanity.’

‘We’ve done it before,’ said Adam, which made Eve smile.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Daniel was out the back of Danielphon, looking at his comic collection.  Ariel was with him.  ‘Action comics number 1, huh,’ she said, looking at the comic in the mylar sleeve he had handed her.

‘It is fucking old,’ Ariel.  ‘God preserved it perfectly in between the rests.  Danielphon slumbered in perfect peace.  It is the Realm’s original copy.’

‘So how much is it worth then?’ she asked him.

‘Fuck,’ he said.   ‘Don’t really know.  But a hell of a lot.  With the right purchaser, and I mean that.  But with the right purchaser we could almost afford a room in Zaphon tower.’

She looked at him incredulously.  ‘THAT must be a hell of an expensive comic.  A room in Zaphon – well – that is quite a number of galaxy’s in value, isn’t it?’

‘Probably that much,’ he agreed.  ‘Possibly more.   But with that kind of room for your future seed to live in, well even selling a place in Zaphon might kind of become attractive.’

‘I suppose,’ she responded.  ‘Amazing.  Just one comic.’

‘That is why I keep them,’ said Daniel proudly.  ‘Because they inevitably rise in value.  They inevitably rise.’

With that said she came and hugged her man, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  He was a wise angel in the end, was Daniel.  A wise angel indeed.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Michael smiled at the latest ‘Ultra-Risk’ ratings.  17th on the list.  His ranking unchanged.  But old Dramlock, 16th on the list – well his lead was not as much anymore.  He was catching him.  Dramlock played the big realm tournaments – only the big ones.  Michael had studied him carefully for a few thousand years.  He was a sensible Cherubim, always had been, and crafted his way through the Ultra-Risk community with style and aplomb, always complementing his opponents, always encouraging them, always giving them a friendly smile.  Yes, he was deadly.  Perhaps a challenge – should he?  Should he?  But, no.  Not yet.  Challenges were reserved for the deadliest player on the list – dread Saruviel.  The Satanic master of Ultra-Risk. That was the one he would wait upon.  His challenges would be reserved for him alone.  For dread Saruviel alone.

 

Elenniel brought in a painting, of Michael, with a Rainbow above his head.

‘Why a rainbow?’

‘Because you are such a colourful personality, Michael.’

He smiled at that.  ‘Wouldn’t Daniel be a better subject for a rainbow?  He is the eternal Noahide Warrior after all.  Not me.’

‘But you are my special colourful one,’ she said, kissing him on the cheek.  He smiled as she left the room and looked at the painting.  It seemed, no matter how many she had done of him, there was always a new surprise.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

‘There are 3 ways for you to die, Devil.  3 ways to die, and 1 way to live.’

 

Satan, handcuffed, being held over the edge of a large cliff by Eve, Adam standing by with a shotgun which was in fact loaded, smiled at the bitch.

‘Yeh.  But a pussy like you will only kill me with herpes.’

‘Really,’ she said and, grinning, spat on his face.  ‘Then that should take care of that,’ said Eve, and Adam smiled.

 

‘So what are the 3 ways?’ queried the Lord of Darkness.

Eve looked at him.  ‘Well, 1.  I can let you go.’  Satan turned his head, looked down at the roaring ocean below and the very jagged looking cliffs.

‘Option 2?’ he asked.

‘I can blow your head off,’ said Adam, brandishing the shotgun.

‘Mmm, I think I’ll pass,’ responded the Lord of Evil.  ‘Option 3?’

Eve looked at Adam.  ‘What was option 3 again, sweetie?’

‘Fucked if I know,’ responded Adam.  ‘It was your list.’

‘Right,’ she nodded, and turned back to her adversary.  ‘Well lets just say, Satan.  It will be unpleasant.  Very, very unpleasant.’

‘Right,’ said Satan.  ‘Ok.  Fuck it.  Call me a wimp, but what is the one way to live option?’

 

Eve brought him upright, and Adam came over, with an extensive looking contract.

‘What is that?’ asked Satan.

‘Oh, good news for us, and potentially you as well.  Heh heh heh.  If you play by the rules, that is.’

‘What do I have to do?’ he asked.

‘Basically, just leave us be.  Mostly just that.  No more games.  Oh, there are certain requirements, but I am sure you will manage them.  But, we aren’t screwing with you too much – leave us alone, and everything will work out fine for you.’

‘Or else what?’

‘Shark fodder,’ said Eve with a smile.

 

He looked at her, looked into her eyes, really thought she wouldn’t go through with it in the end, but decided it would be best not to risk it.  He had tormented her enough over the aeons after all anyway.

‘Were do I sign?’ he asked.

 

Eve unlocked the handcuffs while Adam pointed the shotgun at him, and Eve showed him the page for his signature, produced a pen, and Satan, looking at Adam, realizing he would probably have to in the end anyway, signed his life away.

 

Adam looked at the signature, smiled to himself, and lowered his gun.  ‘Right.  We all know your kind always keep their contracts.’

‘Hey, its what we do,’ responded Satan.

‘You will have a copy of the contract for you at email address satan@realmofeternity.com .  I know that is your biggie for everyone, so you will have to fish out our names in the search terms.  But I am sure you will find the email – eventually.’

Satan almost swore, but thought better of it.  ‘I’ll read the contract, Adam.  I’ll read it.  But I am the master of the loophole.’

‘You had better be,’ said Eve.  ‘We have been studying law for a while, Sat, and this one is pretty watertight.  So scram, freak.’

The dark lord looked at his adversaries, rubbed his wrists, and walked off.  For now he would leave them be, look at his contract, and see what was what.  Whatever they had over him, well he was sure he could wrangle his way out of it.  He was sure.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Spielberg worked overtime for 3 months straight, consulted with George heavily, and had Star Wars Episode 10,001 in the theatre with the previews of the movie scaring the hell out of the audience.  ‘You must be kidding,’ was the common reaction.  ‘Wasn’t Lucas finished?’

Of course, the day of release, the cue went back several hundred metres for each session, and despite most theatres devoting their entire cinemas to the film, it took a long while to satisfy demand – 3 and a half years, to be precise, in most places, before high demand started slacking off.  The film was a shocker to most, picking up on an unexpected tangent from the blockbuster conclusion to episode 10,000 but, really, looking the goods.  And with a title like ‘Star Wars Episode 10,0000:  The Return of Darth Vader’, you would expect it to be popular.

 

George Lucas never saw any of the filming – he left that all to Steven – he wanted to be surprised.  And as he sat there watching ‘A Long Time ago in a Galaxy Far, Far away’, ready for the sudden burst of the title theme, he escaped into his own little world of the force, munching on his popcorn, drinking his coca cola, his wife next to him, happy as he could possibly be.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

The Theophany sat with Metatron, looking at the computer screen.

‘Give it a sec,’ said Metatron.  ‘I am 100% sure this is the key game.’

The theophany watched on nervously.  And than up spun the statistics.  God – 50% / Metatron 50%.  They were finally equal on number of overall games won.  Metatron had caught up.

‘You little devil,’ said God to his son with a grin.

‘Gotcha old man,’ responded Metatron.

 

Memra spoke up.  ‘But what does the future hold?’

 

‘I guess only time will tell,’ finished Logos, and they all said Amen.

 

 

Chapter Two

 

‘So,’ said the theophany to Daniel the Seraphim, ‘The evil recently surpassed the legal amount I required for fulfilment of the death penalty.  Adam and Eve now have a contract with him, and they can really mess with him if he violates it.  But, technically, if somebody wanted to go off and kill the host of the Saruvim, there would be no callback.  They have committed several murders as a group over the years, several individual murders, and a whole host of other evils.  They have always been careful, though, claiming the innocence of Cain, but the wickedness is now technically enough that I won’t object to somebody executing them.’

 

Daniel stared at the theophany, and Ariel asked a question.  ‘There won’t be any drawbacks?’

‘None,’ said God.

 

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

 

3 weeks later, Daniel and Ariel armed with handguns, wandered into the Saruvim’s usual hangout bar.  All 7 were there.

Satan spoke up. ‘Hey, dudes.  Check it out.  Lord of the wusses.’  The Saruvim laughed.

 

Daniel pulled out his guns and so did Ariel.  They came forward to the group who didn’t move.

 

 

Daniel spoke.

 

‘Satan.  Lord of Evil, fowl, and misdeed.  For time beyond reckoning angelicdom, humanity and animal kind have suffered the torments of your evil deeds.  So many have suffered, felt sorrow and pain, because you have defiantly and wilfully, time and time again, done your own perverted will, not and never succumbing to the mercies of God to bring you to repentance and the ways of righteousness.  God has declared to us that now, in the finality of things, your wickedness has become severe enough.  It is judgement day.  You have been found guilty.  The penalty is death.’

 

The Saruvim came forward, glaring at Daniel.

 

Slowly, carefully, Daniel and Ariel raised their guns, pointed them at the Saruvim and said ‘You are guilty.  The penalty is death.  Judgement has come.’  And then they blazed away.

 

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

 

First, God brought the final spirit essences of the killed Saruvim into a place in Sheol which was reserved for God.  There was not much life spirit left in them, and God placed them into a vat of specially designed chemicals which caused enough agonizing pain for the last few hours, that Satan went out in the way so many wished him to – totally fucked, and feeling every last bit of the agony his enemies had wished upon him.  And then it was over, done, and complete.  The Saruvim – destroyed forever – the death of evil and wickedness.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Samael, in heaven, found about it a few weeks later.  The Child of Heaven, who had chosen the role of the Devil, sat in a quiet place in the dark of his abode and felt, in his heart, as if a part of evil that had long lingered there was now gone, dead, and put away eternally.  As if the core of wickedness in his heart had finally been dealt with.

 

He sat there for many a day, many a week, and finally, purchasing a ticket, took himself away on a sabbatical to a monotheistic retreat, and sought out the spirit of God in a spirit of true repentance, and found the peace he had been missing for so long.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Ariel sat with Daniel on their bed in Danielphon.  It was over.  The torment was over.  The agony was over.  Evil was finally, irreversibly, irrevocably, eternally, dealt with.  Praise God for that.  Praise God.  Alleluia.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

‘So Satan is completely, utterly, eternally dead?’ asked Meludiel, looking squarely at the Theophany of God.  ‘Eternally?’

The theophany, sitting in a café stall in one of the greater outer discs of the Realm of Eternity, were Meludiel and Ambriel were living for about 1000  years, munched down on a corned beef sandwich with mustard and tomatoes, chewed away at it, and had a number of mouthfuls.   Then he sipped on some Coca Cola, and continued staring at Meludiel.

‘Eternally?’ he finally asked her?’

‘Yes, eternally,’ she responded.

God came clean.  ‘Were Satan is, he is learning his lesson.  As the Saruvim are.  Let me assure you of that.  You won’t be bothered by them again for a very, very long time.’

‘Great,’ she said.  ‘Well, how long?  How much grace do we have?’

‘You know the time you have been alive?’

‘Yes, pretty much.  The calendar is pretty accurate in that respect.’

‘Well, pretty much that much time again before you will here from the Saruvim again.  By then I expect the fundamental issues to have been dealt with.  Oh, they will still likely choose bad boy ways, but they will be more tolerant by then.  A bit more understanding about the effect of the things they do.  Just a bit more concerned about it all.’

‘You’re sanctifying them?’

‘Only so much.  Only as much as I deem necessary for universal harmony.  Satan likes his freedom, and I want him to be as happy as he can be, but I understand the impact he can also have on others.  It is a juggling act.  But when I am finished with him, he will be reasonable enough.  He will be a bad boy, but the kind of bad boy which the girls will still like reasonably enough.  He won’t be too much for people.’

‘He will be manageable?’ she queried.

‘Yes.  He will have to be.  You have a personal stake in the issue after all.’

‘How so?’ she queried him.

‘Well.  You marry him for a while.  He always has fancied you.’

She was almost beside herself.  ‘The Devil?  Marry the devil?  You are kidding aren’t you?’

‘It’s a long eternity, Meludiel.  A very, very, very long eternity.’

 

Meludiel stared at God, and for the first time in a very long time, almost cussed, but thought better of it.  Married to Satan.  Good grief.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

‘So, life just goes on, does it Daniel?  It just goes on?’

Daniel stared at Ariel, a little confused.  ‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘Satan.  He and the Saruvim.  They are dead.’

‘You should know that as well as me.’

‘And will God ever bring them back?’

He picked up the remote, switched off the TV set, and looked at her.  ‘Probably.  Eventually.  He doesn’t destroy eternally, no matter what people might think.  Satan is learning his lesson, wherever he is, ok.  He is learning his lesson.’

She looked at him squarely, and then acquiesced.  In the end, probably.  Daniel was probably right.  Satan would be back in time, after his repentance was complete – or complete enough.  She softened, got up and came and sat down next to her twin, and cuddled him.

‘I do love you, you know, Hakham Daly.  I do love you.’

‘Bloody hell.  Hakham?  I haven’t been a practicing Hakham since – well, it has been a bloody long time, sweetie.’

‘You still have a heart of gold to me,’ she said.

He put his hand in hers, kissed her cheek, and turned on the TV to the Romance channel, and spent the afternoon watching a number of romantic movies.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Talzudiel sat on a bridge corner, on a disc of eternity he had forgotten the name of, in a little world of his own, escaped from the fellowship in many ways, out here, far away from Zaphon, being nothing but Talzudiel.  Nothing but himself.

 

He had fortunes beyond counting, naturally, the sum of a long life with asset investments in various companies, various very successful companies, and his bank account he was currently using, which had regular deposits into it, would naturally last forever.  He didn’t have any financial concerns in other words.

 

His twin, Winoniel, was back in the centre somewhere, possibly waiting for his return, but possibly not.  They weren’t currently together or married, from memory, and he was his own man – his free man.  And, in finding the life he needed to find at this point in eternity, he lived in a small bed-sitter, with his food delivered from Woolworths delivery service, an automatic delivery every 3 days, and a maid who came in every second day to clean up and sometimes cook for him and take care of his household chores.

 

People in general knew who he was – people, in general, didn’t really mind.

 

It was an English speaking city, for the most part, but Spanish was popular in places, which was good news for him personally.  And it was vast, so he had been told.  At least 400 Trillion residents of this particular metropolis, from recent census figures.  A pretty bloody big place.

 

At the moment, he was about 10 miles from home, down near the local river, the name of which he couldn’t remember, but didn’t care anyway.  It was late in the afternoon, the sky had various reddening clouds in the west, a mock of sunset in many ways, and he stared at them, occasionally taking a sip from his Apple Jack, and slowly finishing his burger and chips.

 

He stared at the sun, and let his mind wander over recent thoughts.  Life.  The meaning of life.  But, for the most part, his experiment with life – finding those routines, those lifestyles, those living patterns, which would work for him.  Which would give him meaning.  Which would make him happy.  And while he craved companionship and company often, at times, he felt, he just needed to be alone.  Alone with himself, and whatever higher power wanted to take an interest.

 

He stared down at the river, thought again about buying that fishing rod and coming down here to have a go, as there were apparently plenty of fish in the thing, and let his mind relax.  It was a simple time, a quiet time, and there had been a lot of it for the past million years or so, living here in this city, the name of which he couldn’t even remember most of the time, wandering the local streets of his flat, looking at the houses, the buildings, the everyday life that they were all chasing, and being merry with.  Were there others going through the things he was going through?  Finding themselves?  Working it all out?  He guessed, in truth, there probably was.  Life was not the exclusive domain of Talzudiel the angel, despite perhaps in his youth thinking it all revolved around him.

 

A wind blew, and he felt it in his legs, and so stood, finished off his burger and apple jack, and gave the sky a last look.

 

He turned, found the garbage bin he was used to, for this pattern was well established now, and started making the way back to the main road, perhaps ready to hail a taxi, but he thought on the hotel just down the road a little.  If it had a room, perhaps a nice night to get away from the flat.

 

He walked along, found the ‘Empire Glory’ hotel, came to the pretty receptionist, who took his card, gave him a key, and showed him to the elevator.

 

The room was swish.  It should be, being the presidential one, but hell, he could afford it.

 

He turned on the television set, and spent half an hour watching Oprah Winfrey.  She was amazingly popular still, but the show was almost definitely an old repeat.

 

And then, after room service of fried chicken and soft drink, he stared at the phone.  What the hell – he may as well.

 

He picked it up, dialled in the necessary connecting numbers, and for the central discs they had priority, and waiting for about 10 rings was about to put it down, when the phone was picked up.

‘Yes,’ said a female voice.

‘It’s me,’ said Talzudiel.  ‘I guess, really, I have done enough.  I have sort of worked through a lot of what I needed out here.  It’s been good.  Great, really.  But time to come home.’

‘Oh, Tally.  That is so good.  When do you think you will be here?’

‘Next month some time, Winoniel.  I have a few things to take care of, a few friends to say bye to.  And then I will be back.’

‘Thank God, dear brother,’ and Winoniel started crying over the phone.

 

 

Later on, enjoying some hot chocolate, Talzudiel was suddenly happy.  He had served a sentence, in a way – a self imposed sentence, but now it was time to go home.  Now it was time to get back to the regular life he had crafted out for himself.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Winoniel, for the past million years, had gotten into something of a routine.  She lived in Zaphora currently, near Danielphon of all places, and visited Ariel for the most part, of all her regular visitations, apart from Elenniel, who she made a habit of visiting at least once a year at Pellersphon, the place Elenniel now rarely left.

 

She sat with Ariel, knitting quite a lot, as well as felting, and playing euchre, which the two ladies enjoyed.  They didn’t always talk a lot – at there age, most issues had been discussed, and it was usually simple talk of how have you been, what you and your twin has been up to, if anything, and any current plans for new children, which was a very common and usual topic.  Children, for children of the Realm of Eternity, and the other realms of God, were a preoccupation in the sense that you could always have them if you wished.  Woman’s eggs would run a course and, not naturally reproduce themselves unless you specifically prayed to God for a replenishment, which would lead to a new supply of eggs being produced within a few years of your prayers.  Yet they would only be replenished if you asked him – otherwise you could enjoy your sexual relations without having to worry about such things.  This made perfect practical sense to everyone.  After a certain point, children became far less a priority, but you would still like them available if you could or desired to at a certain point.  But, naturally, full enjoyment of your sexuality was desired by most, and with no eggs to worry about for the majority of the time for most angel and human female, you could enjoy your sexual pleasures with no concerns.

 

Winoniel, sitting with Ariel that morning, having received a phone call from Talzudiel the night before announcing his return, was discussing with Ariel the idea of a new child to signify the blessing of Talzudiel’s return.  Ariel agreed that it was a good idea in principal, but reminded the happy Winoniel that Talzudiel would have to be taken into consideration.  Perhaps he had met someone – perhaps he had other ideas – perhaps he didn’t want anymore.  But, apart from those concerns, she was happy for her sister’s happiness.

 

Ariel looked at the felting Winoniel had been working on for the past week, finally noticing what it was.  ‘Oh, it’s Noah’s Ark!’ she exclaimed.

‘Yes.  Daniel’s design.  His original one.  I have done it a few times before.  He doesn’t mind, as he sought of has copyrights on their production still, but he has welcome me selling them on his website if I want to.’

‘You have financial concerns?’ Ariel asked quickly, but then said ‘Oh, what am I saying.  You couldn’t possibly.’

‘Oh, nothing to do with the money, Ariel.  You should know that.  More of finding a job to give my contribution to the life of eternity.  I know, with all the new children replacing all of us on a regular basis, they are understood to do the work for us all, and that has always been the case – till they find themselves and their fortune.  But, in the end, I still need something to do – an occupation of sorts, don’t I?  I have to fill my eternity somehow.’

‘I would have thought that would have been an issue a long time ago.’

‘It was,’ she responded.  ‘But it was Talzudiel.  When he left.  Working again on his life routines – his preoccupation.  Finding out HOW to live.  So that is what I have been doing with my felting since he left.  Finding out how to live.  Finding out routines which work, pastimes which bring blessing and happiness, something useful which people appreciate from me.’

‘And you find that in felting?’ queried Ariel.

‘Very much so.’

 

Suddenly Daniel, who was listening at the door, just having walked in, spoke.  ‘It is what I do also, Ariel.  With my felting.  I do that Noah’s Ark design a lot, out the back, in the shed.  I sell them on the website.  Sometimes I auction them, and there are souls in eternity who will pay a very pretty penny for an original Daniel the Seraphim felting I can tell you.’

Ariel laughed.  Daniel had said such things about a lot of his works before – how much people were prepared to pay for his name, his products.

 

‘Which is why I do it,’ responded Winoniel.

 

Daniel came in, picked up a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, and poured himself a little glass.

Ariel raised her eyebrow.  ‘Alcohol, Daniel?  Is this some special celebration?’

‘Uh, Talzudiel coming home.  Let’s have a drink to his return.  It actually has been quite a while – a million years.  Not ages, I know, but a fair whack.’

Ariel shrugged, and as Daniel handed her and Winoniel glasses of grog, they raised them and Daniel said ‘To Talzudiel.  May our brother return home with promise and blessing,’ and the other two said ‘Amen.’

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Meludiel sat in the café, were God had sat with her a few days earlier, looking at the menu.  What to order, what to order.  Ambriel appeared shortly, sat down next to her, and picked up one of the other menus.  He found the hamburger he liked, with fries, and looked at her.  ‘Have you chosen?’

‘A double cheeseburger.  And a sprite.’

He went off and ordered them, paid the price, and returned with the drinks.  They sat there for a while, in silence, drinking their drinks, not saying much.  But it was like that now, at times, not saying much.  And it wasn’t an Ambriel thing for Meludiel, nor was it a Meludiel thing for Ambriel – it was the same for both of them, and they had discussed it a lot between them anyway.  In a universe of conversations, as strange as it may seem to some, in time, eventually, you sort of ran out of things to say.  Things to discuss.  Things to show concern about.  And, after that point had been reached, it was mostly.  ‘Hi.  How are you feeling?  What did you have for dinner?  What was the score in that football match?’ and a host of basic questions on the things which did the very simple thing of being easy enough for conversation, repetitive enough but unique each time, such as a sports score, to make it a suitable thing to talk about, and safe enough to talk freely about.  And that, for Meludiel and Ambriel, had been what it had gotten down to.  They weren’t bored, though – not exactly.  Nor were Elenniel or Michael with there similar relationship.  Not boredom – there were always plenty of things to do which made you happy enough in your life routine, as it had come to be called.  But it was, just a little, predictable in many ways.  There was no great spark for a lot of them anymore – it had all been said, it had all been done.  Now they just went with the flow, and lived their life.  The great adventure had peaked, and the mundane beckoned them each day now, going through its simple, but tedious, routine.

 

But, in truth, Ambriel had a lot of things which brought him ample happiness, and Meludiel did not complain in the end either.  Life was good enough, when it all came down to it, and she would not really want it any other way.

 

They sat there, eating their meal, looking at the sports match – a twenty-twenty cricket match between two local countries of the disc they were on – and did not much else.

 

 

 

‘Well, Meludiel.  This is our life.  Isn’t it.  The simple life.  The basic life.’

‘It's what we want, isn’t it?’ she responded, sipping on her sprite.

‘I guess so,’ he said, looking up at the match.  ‘You know,’ he began.  ‘Why don’t we do something with cricket?  We are both pretty good at it.  Why don’t we dedicate a few million years to this nation – play in their local competitions.’

‘How about indoor cricket,’ she responded positively.

‘Why indoor?’ he asked her curiously.

‘I like it more.  To play.  It is more fun to play.  I was disappointed when we moved because I was involved with a woman’s team which had had a lot of success for a while.’

‘Oh, sorry,’ he responded.  ‘Ok.  Indoor cricket.  Perhaps we form our own team, here in this city.  Some of our friends here.’

She stared at the match, and an idea just came to her.  ‘Well, why don’t we form our own league, then?  Form our own competition.  Have a number of new stadiums built, devise our own particular regulations, and run the thing.  And we can also play in one of the teams.’

‘Hey, that’s a good idea.  Yes, we can definitely afford to launch our own.  Money is not a concern.’

‘So let’s do that.  I don’t really think we have done that kind of thing much before – launched our own sporting competition.  Something new for us.  It could prove very grounding for us – something to focus on.’

For the first time, in quite a while, Ambriel was suddenly happy.  He had something – something new – something to dig his teeth into, and concentrate on, and find new meaning.  And, more than that, the idea appealed to him also.

‘Then let us have some ice cream to celebrate,’ and when Meludiel nodded, he ordered two banana splits with extra cream, and they got a little fatter that day, both somewhat excited by Meludiel’s new idea.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Talzudiel picked up the scrappy looking paperback, stuffed into the back of the seat in front of him, on his flight back to Zaphora.  Ironic.  It was one of Daniel’s Angels books.  But he was popular, still, wasn’t he.

 

He didn’t recognize the title instantly, but presumed he had read the text when Daniel first wrote out his stories, many a long aeon ago.  But, with nothing better to do, and a series of connecting flights which would take a good week to reach Zaphora, he opened it up at the first page, smiled at the opening joke, and settled in for a good read.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

‘They are about to launch a new competition.  Were they are – a new indoor cricket competition.  They are in the process of acquiring land to build stadiums, and advertise for players.’

‘Why?’ Daniel asked Ariel, bemused.

‘She doesn’t say directly.  Just sort of hints that they were looking for something useful to do again.’

‘They’re bored,’ Daniel stated flatly.  ‘The genius has run out of imagination.’

‘Don’t be like that, Danny.  Ambriel is very intelligent.’

‘Ha,’ said Daniel, smiling.  ‘He is bored.  The messiah of God’s glory, and he is bored shitless.’

‘Well it HAS been a long eternity, brother.  Give the guy a break.’

‘Ha,’ said Daniel again, and went off to celebrate his intellectual victory over his brother.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Ambriel looked at the enormous field, on the edge of the city they were currently living in.  It housed a small number of fruit trees, being an orchard of sorts, as well as some buzzing bees floating around everywhere.  But the owner was happy enough to sell for the right price, and Ambriel and Meludiel were able to offer him the right price.

 

It was to be the central headquarters of their project – the main place were it was all organized, and finals to be held in.  Meludiel had done some web-surfing, found it a few days ago, and yesterday they had purchased.  There didn’t really seem to be any point in wasting time about it.

 

‘Do you want to do the design yourself?’ Meludiel asked him.  ‘I know you have several old architecture degrees under your belt, so perhaps you could have a go.’

‘Mmm.  No.  Maybe not,’ he responded.  ‘Skills like that always slip away after a while.  You sort of have to stay current, practicing, or it just disappears from your mind.  Its how we are made, after all.’

‘Yes.  I know,’ she responded.  ‘But if you used your instincts, you would get a good job of it done.’

He looked over the field and nodded to her.  ‘I will do some basics.  On drafting paper.  And then we’ll find a suitable architect and let him or her run with the project.’

‘Suits me,’ she responded.

 

Bees buzzed around them momentarily, perhaps suspicious of the newcomers, and Meludiel turned to Ambriel.  ‘Now.  Do we have a team name?’

‘How about ‘Magnetic’ responded Ambriel.’

Meludiel smiled.  ‘An interesting choice.  Because of our magnetic personalities, I take it?’

‘What else could it possibly be,’ he responded smiling.

‘Then ‘Magnetic’ it is.  Now we just need team members.’

‘All things in their time and place, dear Melly.  All things in their time and place.’

 

They stared at the fields for a while longer and, satisfied, made their way back to the car, started for home, and dreamed about their new occupations for the foreseeable future.  Something old in many ways, but something new in its own way.  And at least they wouldn’t be bored – not for a while, anyway.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

The book had been a good read – all 474 pages of it – and the ending was different to what he had thought it would be, but a good thriller in the end and the demon ‘Hex’ really was a chilling invention of Daniel’s.

 

Talzudiel opened the window cover on his seat and looked outwards.  It was dark, but looking downwards he could see lights flicker here and there.  That was only to be expected – he was halfway home, and the further inwards you went the more congested life was, unlike out at the distant rim areas, were life was still and ever sparse.  But that was par for the course as the rim continued expanding with new population.

 

Talzudiel sat there, looking into space.  He wasn’t really tired – not really, but dinner had been a couple of hours ago, and he had finished his book, not taking much with him for the flight home.  His mind wandered.  Routines – that was the name of the game he had been on – filling his life with routines, and finding out what worked for him.  The solitary life – solo time – gave him strength.  When he was away, and putting up with a lack of his closest friends, it made him stronger in the end, more capable of handling real life, more capable of sorting things out by himself.  But that was probably a truth of human nature, and nothing unique to the Seraphim Talzudiel.  Yet, he could not go on with his solo lifestyle forever – who could?  It was a very brave soul who was the true hermit, and Talzudiel doubted the authenticity of any eternal claimants to such a role.  Any he knew of anyway.  Except God, perhaps.  Perhaps God had put up with that, before everyone else had come to be.  But that was a deep mystery and, besides, God had companions now.  Even he needed to love, and to be loved.

 

Perhaps that was, still, the greatest of all mysteries.  Perhaps it all came down to that – love.  To find people to connect to and to show the respect, kindness and affection – to love them.  And in the loving of them and being loved, happiness and true solace of the soul was found – that much was obvious to him now – and in these loves of life, true peace and joy of the eternal could be found.  So why the fascination with solo time?  Perhaps, it was a time to sort him out – perhaps it was a time to escape from other pressures in life – or perhaps it was just a time for self reflection and, that other quality of love – self love.  A time to learn about oneself and fully appreciate the wonderful child of God that the heavenly father had fashioned, and what it was to be alive, knowing oneself intimately, amongst a universal community.

 

His mind wandered over these ideas and, honestly, he couldn’t really say if he’d thought these things, perhaps, a thousand times before anyway.  But, as a steward came forward, asked if he wanted a late supper of an orange juice and an apple pie, he nodded and, starting to consume his meal, a little happier with something to do for a while, he put on his earphones, listened to the in flight entertainment, and returned to the world of Talzudiel, child, angel and loved one of God the Almighty Father.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Daniel twirled the cricket ball again and again over his fingers, spinning it, and ready to give it a whirl in the back yard of Danielphon on the back cricket pitch.  He had been here for about 20 minutes and Ariel had just wandered out and was looking at him.

‘Cricket, Daniel?  Has Ambriel and Meludiel’s decision sparked an interest?’

Daniel said nothing, but ran in to the pitch, let the ball go, and it spun in the air, hitting the ground, and rebounding right into the stumps.

‘I still have it,’ he said confidently to himself.

Ariel watched him for a while, sitting down on the grass, and he had a number of yellow balls which he spun time and time again, nearly always hitting the stump.  He really was quite accurate, as testimony to his former glory days in the sport.

Ariel looked at the balls and suddenly made a connection.  ‘Those are yellow balls.’

‘Your point?’ he responded.

‘Those are the ones used in indoor cricket.  Not the outdoor kind.’

‘Your observations are impeccable,’ responded the 45th of the male Seraphim.

Ariel nodded.  ‘Well, I have a conclusion of such.  You are getting ready to enter their competition, aren’t you?’

He continued on with the next ball, which again hit the stumps, and turned to look at her.  ‘Ariel, Ariel, Ariel.  We have been through so many adventures together, haven’t we?’

‘Right.  You want me on your team.  To compete with Ambriel and Meludiel.  I see right through you, Daniel Daly.  Right through you.’

Daniel smiled, and ran in again, again hitting the stumps.

‘So you’ll play?’ he asked, turning to her.

She almost said no, quite used to Daniel’s pride, but decided, once again, to suffer the beast.  ‘Oh, alright.  Have it your way.  But don’t go on bragging if you beat him.  How about a little humility, Angel Daniel.’

‘Humility, right.  Yeah, gotya,’ said Daniel, waltzing in, releasing the ball, which again spun right into the stumps.

Ariel smiled, looked at him in his own little world and going back inside said to herself.  ‘He is incorrigible, isn’t he?’

And perhaps a little birdie agreed.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

The theophany sat in the café were Meludiel and Ambriel frequented a lot for their meals, thinking on life.  Talzudiel was on his mind, at the moment.  A good lad, working through routines.  How to live.  How to be happy with it all.  A very wise lad to still concentrate on those ideas at his age, as it would rekindle the basics and give him strength.  He was, still, growing up.  Learning about eternal life.

 

But, there was another thing on his mind, an upcoming confrontation, a confrontation of quite supreme egos, with a rivalry as ancient as days.  Daniel and Ambriel – ego vs ego – Arch-Regent Vs Messiah – the contest of glory, over which they would each wager a full bloody half of their wealth.  The theophany rarely thought in swear words, but for the fact of wagering half their wealth, over the aeons of time in which they had accumulated it, they were brave men indeed, which warranted a little swear.

 

Indoor cricket – a game they both cherished and loved – a game of pride for Daniel and his English ways, a game of joy for Ambriel who loved the close contests.  Picking a winner out of these two could be a great challenge indeed.  Who would win?  Who would triumph?  Who would overcome, well, funnily enough, only time would tell – as it had always, in fact, done so.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

‘Caught in a hazy world of unbelief.  Caught in a hazy world of drunken madness, soul destroying malevolence – almost evil – but pretending to be paragons of virtue.  Caught in a world of Antichrists and False Prophets and devils and delusion – and false saints, and carnal sinners.  Caught in hell itself, beyond the most divine powers redemptive capabilities.’

 

The audience hushed, waiting for the next lines in the play.

 

‘Yet, in this malevolent darkness of the soul – the darkness of my own creation – lost in the depression of the dark heart of hatred, I found a light.  A little, faint light, of hope – the hope of promise that, in the end, no matter how far you stray from the light, no matter how much you reject goodness, no matter how much you let the appeal of sin dominate your very being – goodness remains.

 

And so I found that light, and in the dim afternoons of my soul’s discontent, I nurtured her, day after day, week after week, until I found the salvation she promised, and once again returned to the land of the living.’

 

The soliloquy ended, and the audience rose to its feet, clapping wildly.  The acting had been dramatic, to say the least.

 

 

 

Later on, Talzudiel sat with Winoniel at one of the downstairs cafeteria seats, after the play, sipping on coffees, eating cake, discussing their son’s accomplishments.  The Seraphim Charles, Talzudiel and Winoniel’s son of only a few million years of age, who had turned to acting, had been the lead actor in the play, and they were both very, very proud of him.

 

‘He has improved something shocking,’ said Talzudiel.

‘He has kept at it for quite a while, and this play he has been concentrating on.  It was written by himself a number of other actors and screenplay writers.  A few of them were in the play.  It is a standard, at the moment.  The Zaphoran community have been eating it up for the last few hundred thousand years, and ticket sales show no sign of diminishing yet.  They are always performing to a sold out audience.’

‘Is he investing wisely?  I have always insisted that our children earn their keep, Winoniel – you know that.  They get an inheritance of shares, but can work for our companies if they need to.’

‘But you always like to see if they can make it on their own,’ she responded.

‘That is exactly the case.  To get along eternally you need to learn how to be self sufficient.  It is just the way of things.’

‘But you will always be there for Charles.  And our others.  Don’t be so hard, Tally.  Be a loving father, like God is for you.’

Talzudiel nodded, and responded softly.  ‘Yes.  That is true.’

 

They finished their coffees, and Charles waved to them from a little way off were he was seated with some of his friends.

 

‘I can only hope he perseveres with his trade,’ responded Talzudiel.  ‘Every year he will gain a good reputation for his work.  It will help him no end in the long term.’

‘Charles is a sensible lad.  He is just like his father,’ she responded, gazing at Charles, putting her hand in Talzudiel’s.

 

They both stared at their son affectionately, pleased with his success.  It was good to know your children could make it on their own, and didn’t always need to rely on you.  It gave you a sense of pride, a sense of accomplishment – that you had taught them properly.  And for someone like Talzudiel, eternally focused on success, such things were of prime importance.  That was how life worked in the end after all, wasn’t it.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Ambriel picked up the bat and looked at it.  A ‘Daniel the Seraphim Special Mark 12.’  One of 45 in his special series – very typical for Daniel.  Ambriel liked the ‘12’ the most.  It had the balance he personally preferred of all the ‘Special’ series, perhaps even more than the exuberant ‘45’ which was one of the most highly prized cricket bats in existence.  But, as a son of Israel, father of the 12 tribes, Ambriel used the special series ‘12’ bat, usually, and jibed Daniel that the ’12’ was the one which kicked arse.  Apparently Daniel used all 45 of them from time to time, as well as the various others in his ‘45’ series of cricket equipment, such as balls, pads, helmets and so on.  But that was Daniel – he loved his ‘45’s’.

 

Naturally, there was a heck of a lot of competition in the cricketing world for supplies – a literal googol of suppliers were likely out there these days, especially from the various Asian Indian empires, who were specialists in affordable production of such stuff.  ‘Arjuna’, which was an Indian word for ‘Dragon’ was an incredibly popular supplier, and seemed to dominate everywhere from what Ambriel had seen, yet ‘Tendulkar’ was also an enormous brand, founded by ‘Sachin Tendulkar’, the famous Indian cricket player from earth from the 20th and 21st centuries.  There were still traditional giants in the game like ‘Kookaburra’ and ‘Slazenger’ and ‘Nike’ and so on, which never went away, but there were a bevy of other competitors who had been in the business for literally aeons and, so it seemed in cricketing circles, everyone had a particular favourite bat or helmet or other item.

 

Ambriel mostly used his Seraphim brother Daniel’s products, as Daniel was the main Seraphim angel who took an interest in the game amongst the original 70 Seraphim, although Sariel also was a keen player as well.  Daniel, though, had a company which produced various cricketing items, and while they had been designed a long time ago, he never changed the way he produced the item, and funnily enough they had lasted, despite improvements in products from his competitors.  Some believed and taught in cricketing circles that Daniel’s technology had been so advanced that he had gotten the job done, possibly perfectly, the first time, and that now there was nowhere really left to go for him, apart from settling on his standard 45 designs, and sticking with them.  Ambriel admired Daniel for his stability and endurance in this sense, and used the ‘12’ bat religiously.

 

Of course, in Indoor cricket he used the special variant for the indoor game, which was the current bat he had in his hands, the ‘12’ also.

 

It had been a patient year and a half for Ambriel and Meludiel, as they had secured land around the city, and had there stadiums built.  Today, the main stadium and headquarters for the competition, had been finished for a little over 2 weeks, and most of the fittings and equipment was now in place.  Finishing touches remained.

 

They had already employed a crew of just over 1000 around the city for their work, and with 60 established centres, Ambriel deciding to follow Daniel’s traditional ways and utilizing his own Seraphim birth number amongst the males, things were starting to look promising.  They had advertised last month in various media outlets, and had a good response so far – certainly enough to found 2 grades, and probably 3 at this stage.  Meludiel had been the driving force behind the rules for the games, and while they followed the standard conventions for the way the game was to be played, there were still certain modifications here and there, things which Meludiel deemed proper for the way and attitude they wished to bring to their own particular competition.

 

He went through the mesh gate, going down to the batting end, and standing in front of the wickets, started practicing his batting thrusts.  He’d been there for about 5 minutes, working on his technique, when Meludiel appeared, came into the nets with a piece of paper, and handed to him.

‘What’s this?’ he asked.

She smiled.  ‘You’ll never believe it. It’s an email from someone we know.’

Ambriel nodded, opened the paper, and started reading.

 

‘Hello Schmuk.  I hear you are looking for players for your kindergarten league.  I have some free time at the moment, so don’t worry about begging me to join – I will be there in a few weeks.  Don’t start the competition without me – but you wouldn’t do that, would you.  Your bro, Daniel.’

 

Ambriel smiled, handed the paper back to Meludiel and, as she walked away he said ‘Will life ever be the same again with that devil in the competition.’

Meludiel smiled, but said nothing, and as she walked away, Ambriel returning to his stroke-play, he just shook his head, smiled, and wondered just what destiny had in store for him.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Daniel was out the back of Danielphon, at the north-west quadrant of the place.  Danielphon was quite a big place in comparison to his neighbours, the size of a few standard bungalow blocks in the sector of Zaphora were he mostly resided.  It was true, Daniel did have a number of places in Zaphon tower which he owned, yet he usually rented these out, apart from one place which he and Ariel would stay in when they were visiting.  But Danielphon had been founded a long time ago for the purposes of his own space and place within Zaphora, and now, for the most part, this was where he resided.

 

As Arch-Regent of the Realm of Eternity there were duties which he could get to, if he desired, but for the most of the last several millions of years those duties had been delegated to various authorities.  Danielphora was the seat of the Arch-Regency, but Daniel now, even despite his early ambitions of youth to make a name for himself, along with the travails of Valandriel, was mostly over such ambitions.  Sure, he never regretted the claiming of such glory when it finally arrived, but life for Daniel the Seraphim was mainly about simple things, here in Danielphon, and, funnily enough, despite early meanderings to this and that lass, primarily Sharlamane and Meludiel, he mostly stuck with Ariel now – simply because she mostly stuck with him.  He’d had numerous love affairs with many of the female Seraphim and Cherubim, when they were apart from their twin or others at times, but they were the lustings of youth, he now felt.  He was horribly stable these days, grounded on Torah for his morals, and not really looking to change anymore.  Not really looking for anything else, in fact, and content with spending most of eternity with Ariel, despite a part of him which still suggested, on rare occasions, something different to spice up life a little.  But only on rare occasions.

 

Ariel’s, his sister, whose human name was Keri-Anne Noble, had stuck with Daniel for a long, long time now, and expressed no desire for things to change.  They were together, an item, and he found his necessary peace and partnership desires happily enough in his twin.  Meludiel always beckoned to his heart, for he found her constantly attractive, and others of the female Seraphim, like Aquariel and Nimorel, as well as Luladiel and others, he still remained friendly with and knew he would never really stop loving or desiring to be around.  But Ariel satisfied him, and that is were he left it.

 

Today, in the back north-west section, were he had his sports shed, he was looking through his collection of cricket bats.  He was deciding, of all of them, which one to take with him on his soon journey to Ambriel’s city.  The 45 always beckoned, but now he wanted to do something new, and was looking at the 13 and the 15.  Picking up the 15 indoor special, he did some batting practice, and nodded to himself.  Yep, this was the one.  This one should do perfectly.  The bats were replaced regularly, as long as they in fact lasted without being played, as he didn’t play cricket a great deal in the last while, but, while they would generally stay the same when left untouched, even for a very long time, damp and mist inevitably wore them down, unless they had been specifically stored for archival purposes, which he didn’t bother with for his current equipment.

 

The current shed had all be refitted with new items just last week, as he had ordered his local company to restock him with the standard order, and thrusting the 15 in front of him he thought on something which had just entered his mind.  An offer – a wager – a bet.  A very simple thing.  But this one of incredible proportions – half their wealth.  If Ambriel was willing, then Daniel would wager half his own wealth versus half of Ambriel’s – an incredible amount given his vast age and accumulation of assets over such a long time – but what was life without a bit of interest and a bit of risk.  Boring, in the end.  So he nodded to the idea, very knowledgeable of the fact that he could lose, and continued with his batting practice, ready for a new challenge.

 

*   *   *   *   *

 

Talzudiel sat in his study, looking over his emails.  Naturally, as par for the course, he had a standard ‘Everybody Email Account’ which was a public email account reserved for anyone who wanted to contact him.  It had been made available aeons ago, in fact back in the first phase of their existence, before all the rests, when the Realm of Eternity had been new.  And, in point of very fact, the emails he was currently answering were still from that era – with the vast population that the realm had risen to, you could hardly expect a figure as popular as Talzudiel to be able to answer emails any time soon, but that was naturally par for the course.  Mostly, he had a routine of getting to a few emails every week or so as part of his standard routines, and what was interesting is that in front of him he had just opened a standard email from Seraphim Daniel, of all people, who had occasionally sent emails to a bulk list which had included Talzudiel’s general email address.  It was advertising his new cricket bat – the Daniel the Seraphim Special Mark 4.  Boy, this was an old email.

 

Of course, Winoniel had mentioned to him recently how Daniel and Ariel were about to travel to were Ambriel and Meludiel currently resided for Daniel to take part in an Indoor cricketing competition, apparently run by Ambriel and Meludiel.  Talzudiel thought on this.  His sport, traditionally, was soccer.  But he loved cricket as well.  Perhaps, with nothing particular to hold him here in Zaphora at the moment, perhaps he could do it.  Travel out, enjoy some indoor cricket for a while.  He looked at the email, put it into one of his thousands of folders, and went off to chat with Winoniel about a change of current plans.  Yes, he had made up his mind.  Time for some competition – time to once again engage in a serious way with his brothers in a game of life.  After all, that was a big part of life, wasn’t it – the competition.

 

Winoniel agreed, and coming back to the PC he opened ‘Air Eternity’ airlines, which was the standard airline he used, made his booking for a month from that day, and smiled to himself as he envisaged defeating his two dear brothers in the competition they both prided themselves in.

 

*   *   *

 

Ambriel addressed his team.  ‘Teamwork, buddies.  Stick together.  Be there for each other.  Pull together.  Daniel’s team look great, but with a little faith, hope and love, I know you will all pull through.  And praise God.’  And the team all gave each other a big group hug.

 

 

Over on the other side of the pitch Daniel addressed his teammates, his moustache done up in a very ‘English Major’ fashion, and the accent quite obvious.  ‘You are all scum,’ he said with obvious wrath.  ‘The lot of you.  Scum.  My dear old mother, with one arm tied behind her back, would still outscore you all.  In fact, with no arms she would bowl better.’

There was a chuckle from the group, but Daniel quickly yelled ‘Silence.’

‘Now, before we go out there and you embarrass me, and there is no greater crime under all the heavens than embarrassing the grand and great Arch-Regent of Eternity, remember, despite your status as scum, which you all are, you are my nephews.  Brother Matthews recent spate of bastards.  And indeed, I know full well your bastardly state.  Matt never was a man of honour.’  Again smirks.

‘Now, scum bags.  I know you are not actually idiots – Matt was always a finicky bastard with his facts – so go out, and bowl out these drab and pathetic Ambriel worshippers, Kapiche.’

 

 

 

Later on, after the match, a tight result, with Ambriel’s Heroes defeating Daniel’s Dastards by 1 run, there was happiness in the bar anyway.  Matt’s kids were chatting with there dad Matthew, Daniel,’s brother, and although they were all under 21, the team of 6 boys and 1 girl were a happy enough lot, and far from being actual scum.  1 win to Ambriel.  6 matches to go.

 

*   *   *

 

‘Ok, Tally.  We’ll cut you in.  But remember, HALF your kingdom if you lose, to the winner.  HALF.  Your whole life earnings till this point.’  Talzudiel nodded.  It was worth it.

 

*   *   *

 

Matches came and went, and  Ambriel’s team got to a 3 nil lead over Daniel’s before Daniel finally got down and gave some serious training points to Matts kids on some of their deficiencies.  The improvements were obvious.  They won the next three.  Talzudiel, despite his brave effort, last all but one match, and that to Ambriel’s team, and he ended up sighing over his soon potential lost earnings.  He would have to put his hope on a miraculous draw.

 

 

 

 

Daniel looked at Ambriel.  His brother was going to spin this one, and had already indicated as such.  He needed a six to win, a four to tie.  The final ball.  It came down to this.

 

 

 

‘No, no, no Talzudiel.  Ambriel and I have agreed – we get half of your kingdom divided equally between us.  We drew.’

‘But the agreement, verbally, was only to the winner.  I have a clear case.’

 

Daniel shook his head, but Ambriel spoke up.  ‘Look, Dan.  Do we want to do that to Talzudiel anyway?  We don’t need his money.  We never did.  It is just a rivalry between us.  It is just for fun, bro.’

 

Daniel sighed.  ‘Point taken, Amby Wamby.  I don’t care about the cash.  I’ve got plenty.  It is a matter of honour.  I just want the right judgement.’  He looked at Talzudiel.  ‘I think I know, though, that after all my troubles in my long life.  After all the shit I have been through, and all the debates.  After all the judgements, and all the trials and tribulations, that without some grace, we just won’t get along.  Neither of us is really right, tally.  Neither of us is really wrong.  So I’ll let it go.  You’re my bro.’

 

And Ambriel smiled.

 

*

 

The soft wind blew over home.  Michael and Saruviel were chatting, playing chess.  Metatron was out in the fields, sitting there, drinking applejack, talking with the theophany.  Ambriel and Daniel and Meludiel and Ariel were playing touch footie against Samael and Aphrayel and Sandalphon and Gemrayel.  Cosadriel and Azrael were arguing.  Nobody minded.

 

Britney and Justin had worked things out.  Gabriel and Aquariel were sitting on a swing.  Logos was inside with Memra and Paul and Jesus, playing scrabble.

 

Cheryl and William were in the barn, making passionate love together.

 

Wormdog was looking at God’s coin collection in the living room.

 

Lucy, Shelandragh, Darren and Madalene and Jayden and Georgia were playing videogames in the main room.

 

Voldemort was arguing with Harry.

 

Raphael and Nimorel were chatting over by the wishing well.  A number of Seraphim were with them.

 

Jan Kolby and Chance Kibb’Starr were with Dak Bluddhook, not far from Metatron and God, sitting there, chatting, watching the aurora.

 

Adam and Eve were sitting beneath the tree of life.

 

Satan finally ate a piece of the apple.

 

A soft wind blew over home.  All was well.  All was well.

 

The End of the Chronicles of the Children of Destiny