‘Morning Stars of Glory’

by

Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

http://assemblyofthedivinecreator.angelfire.com

All Writings Copyright ‘Assembly of the Divine Creator’ & Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

Chapter One

‘The Morning Stars of Glory,’ said the angel Melanie, a cherubim angel of the Realm of Eternity. ‘That is what we all are Melaniel. The Morning Stars of Glory.’

Scary Spice looked at Sporty Spice and smiled. ‘Really? The Morning Stars of Glory?’

‘Yes. That sounds right said Geri ‘Gloryel’ Halliwell,’ not taking her eyes off the T20 cricket match on the television set.

‘A Great title,’ said Hugh ‘Sariel’ Grant, seated next to his beloved Geri Girl, the angel of his dreams, and twin angel amongst the Seraphim of the Realm of Eternity.

The Apostle Paul, the Seraphim Angel Yomiel, came and sat down next to his twin Melaniel, and hugged her. ‘I love you babe,’ he said.

‘You just like me coz I’m hot,’ she said, disinterestedly. ‘All men are like that. Even you.’

‘Oh, Paul is alright,’ said Victoria, the Cherubim Victoria, of the Realm of Eternity. ‘He is a loving guy, deep down.’

‘Probably,’ said Emma, chiming in on the conversation, over in the corner with her twin Jovius, playing on the Sega Megadrive, the game being Sonic the Hedgehog 312.

Daniel walked in the room with his twin Ariel.

‘Here comes the devil,’ said Gloryel. ‘The master of hearts, in his own vain imagination.’

‘Oooh, so harsh Glory girl,’ responded Daniel.

‘The fidelity of a slug,’ said Melanie, not looking at her man directly.

‘Oh. I am faithful,’ responded Daniel. ‘But I am well aware of your twins, and the affairs of the heart are always complicated on such an issue.’

Tom Starr didn’t say anything, seated at the desk. Laquenta was like that, usually. Quiet. It is what Melanie valued in her man. It is why she loved him so.

Ariel sat down next to Meludiel on the other couch, who was knitting a scarf, blue and white, for Daniel. He needed his bulldog’s scarves. ‘For Daniel?’ she queried. Meludiel nodded.

Ambriel entered the room, and Gloryel stood, came over and kissed him on the cheek, and said ‘Hello handsome. You’re early. The party doesn’t start until 8.’

‘I thought I’d come now. Finished with the things I was doing at home. Is Mega Risk on for later in the night.’

‘It better be,’ said David Beckham, coming into the room. ‘I am going to kick your arse Amby Wamby after all.’

Victoria smiled. David always got competitive with David.

Later on that evening, about 40 or so guests had arrived at Danielphon, were the party was being held. Ariel, the current owner of the establishment, having purchased it from Meludiel for several Googleplexianites of Realm Credits, was in good spirits. Her oldest friends – most of them – her most treasured brothers and sisters, were present. The spirit was good. The feeling was good. Good times, which never did end in the end, full of life, love and fresh wit. Full of good things. Full of happy things.

And then Satan walked in the door, with Saruviel following, and the other Saruvim one by one, and their chicks. And they had beer. And Ariel was pissed off. And Satan said ‘Lighten up babe. The party has arrived. Now let us put on Metallica and get shitfaced.’ And Ariel almost swore.

Chapter Two

‘I love you. I love you not.’

‘Oh, Jovius,’ responded Emma. ‘Will you ever make up your mind?’

‘Probably not babe,’ he said, lighting another cigarette.

‘You know, this realm of eternity is pretty swish, all things considered. Different from our heaven, but I don’t mind it.’

‘You don’t remember, do you?’ asked Emma to her twin.

He looked at her strangely. ‘Remember what?’ he asked her.

‘You and I. We were from here. A long, long time ago. Back in the beginning of all things. It is were our journey began. Were it all began.’

He looked at her, a puzzled expression on his face, but nodded after a while. ‘Sure babe, I believe you.’

‘Oh, Jovius,’ she responded.

Jovius scratched his head, and looked out over the city of Zaphona. The two of them were on an upper level of Zaphon tower, up quite high, looking out over the realm of eternity. They had been here, now, quite a while, since the resurrection to new life of their realm of heaven, were Emma and Jovius had been resting, way up high above them, up far above the Realm of Infinity, up far above the 7 Heavens of the Children of Heaven, and above home, and further still. Of course, above home was another heaven, were Gabriel was firstborn. And then up further still the Eternal Realm of Glory, as it was called, were Raphael was firstborn. Further still lay another Realm of Splendour, very similar to the one down below paradise, but different as well – unique. And above that, the Infinite Realm of Majesty, were Melaniel and Yomiel had been resurrected from. And then, finally, Jovius and Emma’s heaven, were Phanuel was firstborn, up above the Realm of Majesty, which Raguel had been firstborn of. That, so he understood, was the apparent limit, but last weekend, when the party had been on, he had been chatting with the Saruviel fellow, and he talked of a series of connected universes – a Megaverse – even further up still, were his glory was apparent. The highest of the 7 – right at the top.

But here they were again, apparently, from what Emma had said. The Children of Destiny – in the First of the True 7 Heavens. Were Michael was firstborn – sort of – apart from that fellow Metatron, who Jovius had taken an instant liking to. A fellow who knew how to smoke cigarettes, and drink beer, and not give him a bloody lecture like that Daniel fellow.

Jovius blew on his cigarette, said ‘Fuck Daniel,’ to the wind, and turned to his twin.

‘You’re a babe, Em.’

And she smiled.

Chapter Three

‘What is the 45^th realm then, oh wise one,’ said Ariel to her twin Daniel, in a slight mocking tone.

‘Pagan central, babe – but the Realm of Understanding rules even them. Were the Earth Mother thinks she is a bloody goddess.’

‘Really,,’ replied Ariel, a curious look on her face.

‘Yep. Really, babe,’ responded Daniel, and stared out at Zaphon, a level above Jovius and Emma who were down one level, and a few levels higher than the main group, who were still partying on the sabbath afternoon party which Satan had arranged.

‘And when did this 45^th realm come to be?’ Ariel asked him, not sure about the look on his face, still doubting.

‘In the heart and plans, and perhaps even the reality of God,’ dear, dear twin of mine. But that would be telling if I told you any more.’

‘Indeed,’ she responded, giving her twin an even Curiouser look.

* * * * *

Satan, in his long years, had mastered the fine art of – well – putting it bluntly, evil. Yet, even the dark lord, when coming up against the persistent throb of life of the eternal one, a life which rebuked evil so that it would learn its lesson and repent of its carnal ways, had no real chance of long term success. The party would only go on for so long, in other words. For only so young.

‘But fuck it,’ Satan thought to himself. ‘He was still young – in eternal years – so would have some fun. There was chick – his adversary, the Rothchild’s – chick. She looked ok. In fact, in truth, he liked her somewhat. He would score her. He would steal the Messiah’s glory. He would do the wild thing with miss up her butt on Jesus fucking Christ. He would score his babe.

Rebecca St James – the angel Meludiel – was currently married to her first husband, Jacob Fink. But a divorce had just about been ready for signature, when she came to her front door, found the devil standing there, smiling at her, and asking if she wanted to go out on a date. ‘I’m married,’ she instantly replied.

‘So divorce him,’ said the Devil.

She looked at him, and nodded. God had warned her about this. A long time ago. That she would marry the devil. And even now, after an age long fight to keep faith in holiness, a battle she was losing, the devil was finally starting to look attractive. How far she had fallen indeed.

4 months later Satan and Meludiel were dating – Ambriel didn’t mind, Daniel laughed and nobody else seemed to give the slightest. Such was life. They were older now, they’d seen it all, nothing surprised people much anymore. Nothing, really.

Chapter Four

‘They are roses,’ said Satan.

‘Oh, they’re lovely,’ said Meludiel.

‘Can I come in,’ he said, very respectfully.

‘Sure,’ she said.

They sat in the living room, quiet for some time, and he was starting to look over her, aroused at her good looks.

‘You are thinking of sex, are you not?’ she queried him.

He didn’t reply.

‘Well, I must let you know that I am a good girl, Lord of the Dark. I don’t fornicate. Only in marriage. Only in the wedding bed.’

‘Then marry me,’ he replied.

She didn’t say anything.

‘Go on. Marry me. I’m older now. The rebellion was something of my youth. I’m a changed guy. I’m different.’

‘How can I trust you?’ she asked him.

‘You probably can’t. But what is life without a risk, huh? What is life without a risk?’

She thought on that, and replied honestly. ‘A lot safer, a lot more stable, a lot more predictable.’

‘And a lot more fucking boring,’ he replied with the traditional brutal honesty of the Devil.

‘True,’ she said softly, not looking at him.

‘Then what do you say?’ he asked her.

‘Give me time to think about it.’

‘Ok,’ he replied.

For the next few hours they watched some gardening shows, and out the back of her current abode they did some gardening, while listening to some Salieri classical music. Satan, surprisingly, was the perfect gentleman. He was quite a man.

14 months later they were married. It was a small wedding. Michael, Elenniel, Gabriel and Aquariel were present, as well as the Saruvim. Nobody else came. Nobody else bothered. Daniel, though, did show at the reception, kissed her, wished her luck, and gave them some lovely presents. She was thankful that he showed then. Ambriel found them both later on outside, when they were going off on their honeymoon, and he shook Satan’s hand, and wished them good luck. Meludiel smiled at him. ‘Here goes,’ she said to him. He smiled back at her.

Chapter Five

Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bloody bored.

To put it mildly, Daniel was bored.

The spark had gone out of his life. Meludiel had married the devil. Ariel was currently engaged in theology which taught that the twin was a support, a tower a strength, a sibling as a rocky foundation in troubled times, anything at all except the most obvious – a lover and a partner. The Torah of Israel, so she claimed, made it abundantly clear – brothers didn’t go with sisters. ‘Then who the hell did Cain and Abel fuck?’ was his proud retort. Ariel didn’t comment.

So off she had gone on her crusade, kicked Daniel out of his own home Danielphon, where he was apparently guaranteed a right to live in their verbal codes of honour – which then put within Daniel the notion ‘Get the bitch on legal contracts, and make sure they are fucking watertight, or you are up the duff. And time to start considering those fucking prenuptials.’ He mentioned this, in spiteful tones, to Ariel. She was not impressed.

But, for now, Daniel was bored shitless. In his abode, in Zaphon tower, right up near the top, in a penthouse suite he had paid for untold aeons ago, with all his stuff shoved in the 7 large bedrooms, cramming in the riches of Danielphon – just – he was well and suitably ready for anything, because Mel was gone, life had no current direction in his mind or plans, and Ariel was snubbing him.

And then the name ‘Sharlamane’ entered his head, and he smiled, and looked for his little black book and his old, faithful, squeeze.

* * * * *

Sharlamane, engaged in belly-dancing, with her current Egyptian boyfriend watching intently (possibly with his pants down and doing the obvious things with his manhood), went to the door, screamed a scream of sheer delight, and told her new boyfriend, quite quickly, the affair had reached its climax – literally – and it was time to move on. He noticed Daniel. Mr Sharaf did not complain.

4 hours later, Daniel enjoying the movements of Sharlamane’s currently quite trim physique in her erotic Mizraimite movements, Daniel had urges in his nether regions. And, for the next while, the boredom had disappeared, in the arms of a faithful cherubim, girlfriend, and the spite towards Ariel, and the jealousies of the devil were, for the moment, forgotten. And the sex was bloody good.

Chapter Six

Satan looked at his woman’s vagina. It was looking good. Time to dive in. He tongued away, and soon, the moaning became very apparent, and the horn of the devil engaged in a thrusting of magnificent delight, and the ecstasy of darkness thrust away, climaxed in power, and a little seed found its way to its eternal mate, and a child began forming in the halls of Kalphon, a firstborn child, who would one day rise up, challenge the authority of Saruviel himself, and let the world know that a ‘REAL’ firstborn son of Kalphon had truly arrived.

The romance was good after that. The old devil had finally, after aeons of aggravation, borne the seed of his works in the form of the growing lump of Mel’s belly, and he finally was tasting some of the more normal things in life which for so long he had absconded from. And even the bible now looked interesting.

Meludiel was the first to notice the change in her man. The old Devil – had – died. He no longer paid her the flattering types of comments she had been used to for a while. Not at all. Instead he hung around her, kissed her shoulder, kissed her cheek, and brought her flowers. And his soft, gentle words, were filled with a passion that Ambriel did not know, and that Daniel had only hinted at.

She was soon in very love, and her fathers promise was fulfilled.

And then young Saruviel Satan Semyaza Luciferious was born, and the dark one had triumphed.

* * * * *

The angel poked its head in, the tiny little faerie angel, who was wont to visit all sorts of people on God’s business, found Sharlamane breathing heavily on the table, noticed Daniel holding her hand as faithfully as possible, and wandered up to her ear. ‘Tis a grand child in your womb, ready to be borne, dear, dear Sharlamane. His name shall be magnificente and truly wonderful, and he shall rule faire Zaphon with wisdom and justice from now unto eternity. But the firstborn of Kalphon shall be adversarial eternally so,’ the angel finished, the last sentence in softer, softer tones, for Sharlamane to just barely, possibly, grasp. And then the labour pains came, and the angels words were forgotten.

* * * * *

Callodyn Gabriel Daniel Daly was born, to the Joys of Sharlamane, a proud mother, and Daniel the Seraphim, a proud father, a child of great vision, and true passion.

Yet his adversary was already 2 years old, currently arguing in true hostility with his mother Meludiel, about every fucking thing Meludiel once exasperated to her man, to which the Devil would only shrug, ask for another bloody beer, and continue watching the baseball.

Meludiel was not impressed.

As the children grew over the next 18 years, they grew in popularity, sex appeal with the ladies, and growing fame for certain particular attributes – namely sarcasm. Extreme bloody sarcasm, as the theophany was wont to note in his conversations with Metatron on the subject.

But such was life – they were children of Destiny – and life would never be the same again – literally.

Chapter Seven

The Morning Stars of Glory – Melanie and Melaniel, otherwise known as Melanie C and Mel B respectively, of Spice Girls fame – were in the studies, working on a new album, funnily enough titled ‘The Morning Stars of Glory’. Under the band name Melanie², the two Mel’s new album was 10 tracks down, with a planned 5 more in the works. And then at least 20 odd remixes for the CD singles and the Remix Album.

These two Spice Girls were hardworking lasses, like all Spice Girls were, and they had desired on their new album to bring a spirit of professionalism and attention to detail to their work. A work which would, hopefully, be critically received, yet with a pop groove fascination, for which they were still quite famous, which would fill the dance floors and get people a rocking and a bopping. They had high hopes.

Tom hung around for most of the recording. He never left Melanie C much these days. There several children together, and the fact they had divorced rarely, were strong indicators to each other that they were eternally destined to each others arms and company. Laquenta, with his Spanish fascinations, was particularly drawn to Gloryel, who had a penchant for Spanish things as well, and through that he had gradually become close and intimate with all the Spice Girls and was a recognized ‘Spice Boy’ at heart. ‘Just like David’, Victoria commented to Melanie from time to time.

Of course, the big Love guru, Yomiel, the Apostle Paul of Christian foundations, was Mel B’s twin, and he was never far from his woman. Saul of Tarsus ministries was a growing phenomenon these days, and his wealth, through the acceptance of freewill offerings and tithes, grew in leaps and bounds every nanosecond. He was incredibly bloody rich, and challenged the other messiahs, and even the likes of Callodyn and Daniel, whose special investment companies had a perpetual objective of purchasing as many new shares in new companies as literally possible. Of course, people floated at exorbitant demands, way beyond rationale reason, but the big players of the world still seemed to find the finances. Money, usually, was no object.

As the album neared completion, Yomiel had agreed that with the title, which had been reserved aeons ago by the Spice Girls, but given to Mel and Mel as a Christmas present upon the foundation of Melanie^2, being a very suitable and potentially profitable title and album, that he would pump in several Googleplexianites of realm credit into the advertising and promotion of the album and, hopefully, produce a legend for the girls. Mel B was suitably impressed, and the lovemaking was something to write home to for a while for Yomiel.

‘The album rocks, girls,’ said Yomiel.

‘Thanks hon,’ said Mel B.

‘It will sell a literal tonne,’ commented Tom. Melanie C kissed him.

Jesus, who was sitting in the corner, headphones on, listening to the final seconds of track 15, was smiling, It was ultrapop – done extraordinarily well, with the aeons of experience quite noticeable.

‘You’ll sell a Googol the opening day,’ he said, putting down the earphones.

The girls smiled. Everything was good.

No, everything was great.

Chapter Eight

‘Waves crashing over me. My soul it slips down underneath. Into the deep, deep love of God. Into the deep, deep love of peace. But the water swells, the typhoon blows, and suddenly I am in the storm. In the eye of the Maelstrom I find inside – the peace eternity.’

The music swayed and swam through a river of oceanic bliss, and the audience were waving hands, like the ocean, at peace, yet full of the eternal storm of life, the eternal storm of love.

The girls were singing the 15^th track of ‘Morning Stars of Glory’ titled ‘Lost in the Sea of Love’, which Melanie C had written, based on ideas from one of her very earliest albums ‘The Sea.’

All over the showgrounds before them, people dressed in the aquamarine t-shirts which the album cover had been based on, with the glowing sun in the centre of the t-shirt. Literally hundreds of thousands of these t-shirts were out there, in the sea of love before them, all the people grooving along to the musical workings of Melanie², in a world of their own, the sea of God’s eternal peace and love – even in the eye of the Maelstrom – all around them, reminding them of his love, yet placing them on the throne of self, if you know what I mean, in the eye of the Maelstrom, in the eye of the Maelstrom.

And then they started playing, the song list complete, ‘The Sea’ from Melanie C’s album, and the crowed roared.

* * * * *

Yomiel held Mel B’s hand. ‘You are my sea of love,’ he said, as they walked through a field of daisies.

‘Is that what you brought me hear to say, you cheeky bugger,’ responded Mel, a spirited laugh on her lips.

Apostle Paul undid the shirt buttons of his glorious cream shirt, and his chest hair beckoned her attention. ‘Not just to hear my words, fair maiden.’ And then he ravished her, and she complained not for a while,

* * * * *

Ambriel was sitting at his miniatures table. 17 war troops for ‘Mega Risk: The Ambriel Campaigns’, a special risk variant designed by Daniel, the objective of which was to conquer the King Ambriel in his Citadel of Peace, were before him, and he had already painted about 500 of them that year. But things take time, and Ambriel was in a happy little world of his own, painting his miniatures, finding the peace and joy of serving God, when Saruviel, Satan Semyaza Luciferious walked in, called him a wanker, and Ambriel knew he would have no end of trouble for the rest of the afternoon as the 18 year old poked around his flat, with Meludiel and Satan arguing most of the time on the couch, a bewildered Ambriel doing his best to ignore them, painting his miniatures, his eye on the bloody young Saruviel.

* * * * *

Melanie C smiled at the email from Ambriel.

‘It was hell, Mel. Young Saruviel insisted on painting one of my miniatures, and did a disastrous job, typical of youth, as a result. I know I must forgive him, but I will now have to buy another set, and there goes a years effort, as you know how I hate even minor impurities in my painting efforts, and a fly in the ointment always requires a fresh sanding at the very least.

Yet, I know I am complaining. I know I should have grace. I know I should show patience.

I have been listening to ‘Morning Stars of Glory’ dear angel Melanie. It is – wonderful. I gave a copy to Meludiel, and she wrote me expressing thanks.

It is a cut above.

Well done.

Your brother Ambriel.’

Melanie C smiled at the email from Ambriel. It had made her day.

Chapter Nine

Ambriel looked at the new set. 777 risk troops – 7 sets of 111 different types. The last set he had carefully finished off, paying close attention to the one done by young Saruviel, stripped away, repainted, and done with as much attention to love, detail and purity which Ambriel was capable of. And then he had put it on his ebay.hev page, sold for a hefty sum, and purchased a new set. This time he would be far more cautious and no Saruviel Satan Semyaza would get his little mitts on it, the Lord bless him.

‘Morning Stars of Glory’ track 7 was playing, ‘Love in the X-Treme’, a funky, playful and fun track, very traditionally spice girls oriented, and it was the get up and go track on the album, which always made Ambriel happy. And when the funky sounding Mel B ‘Xs’ started bopping out of her lips, through the digital data bytes of the CD, cross the speakers, down the soundwaves, into Ambriel’s ears, mind and heart, he was on cloud 9 – literally.

‘You are soldier X’, he said to the soldier he was currently painting. ‘And your destiny is to vanquish Daniel San the Horrible one,’ he said, and then laughed ‘Harrgh hargh hargh,’ in true Danielic fashion.

Later on that week, Daniel had come around, and had picked up ‘Daniel San the Horrible one’ from the TV, were it was sitting, Ambriel having been casting slurs and curses at it constantly in true Messianic vengeful style.

‘Hey, this figurine rocks,’ said Daniel. ‘Can I make an offer?’ he had a grin on his face, and Ambriel suspected divine interference.

‘Half your kingdom,’ responded Ambriel, slyly, getting some cans of Coke and cold pizza from the fridge, throwing a can at Danny boy.

‘Half, hey,’ he said, looking at his younger brother. He surveyed Daniel San the Horrible One and considered. ‘Tis a hefty fee, for one miserly soldier. Yet I think the glory with which I could fashion for him could truly be magnificent. But, nay. The price is too high. How about, though, a copy of Action Comics 2 Googol. I have several spare New Mint copies, and I am sure you would like one.’

Ambriel’s ears cocked up, and he smiled. ‘Um, you sure,’ he said, suddenly very happy with his brother, Daniel, and his accumulating abilities.

‘I Love my little brother Amby Wamby, and I know your fascination with master Kal from the house of El. Say the word and the swap is a done deal.’

Ambriel handed him the pizza, hugged him, and said ‘Thanks bro.’

And three weeks later, finally getting an original copy of Action Comics 2 Googol, one of Superman’s finest adventures, Ambriel was no longer so cross with Daniel San the Horrible one. Not for the moment, anyway.

Chapter Ten

‘Holiday’ by Greg and Christie came on the radio, the original version, and Daniel almost swore. ‘You are kidding me,’ he said out loud. ‘The rarest track from Greg and Christie, the original recording, never released, and here it was on ‘Realm One Radio’. When the track was finished ‘El Hombre’ the radio host commented, ‘Greg and Christie. Their very first recording. We have played it before, a few times, over the aeons, and there it was people. Greg, by the way, is Seraphim Daniel’s brother, and Christie is Greg’s wife. A rarity from time immemorial, and if we have any requests for a replay, we’ll play it through the week.’

Daniel smiled to himself. Well done, Greggo. A hit.

* * * * *

Father and Son. Satan and young Saruviel, sitting on the court seats of a Kalphon Tennis court, watching Saruviel and Krystabel play a friendly match, Daraqel and Kantriel not far away from the two of them, drinking Pineapple juice of all things, with cold ice.

‘Conquer the world, dad? Conquer the world?’ queried young Saruviel to his father.

‘It is your destiny Luke,’ responded Satan.

‘Huh?’ queried young Skywalker.

‘Nothing,’ said Satan. ‘The plans of the ages take much time to come to fruition, and our adversaries have gone soft – taken the bait – they are fools, I tell you. But the Lord of the Dark shall triumph.’

‘Whatever you say dad,’ said young Saruviel, picking up his Nintendo and starting ‘Crazy Rage 489’ for the 17^th time that morning.

As his daredevil character bopped along, screen after screen, young Saruviel was oblivious to his dark father staring at the screen, trying to figure out what the fuck was the fascination to these little idiot boxes anyway. And then young Saruviel lost a live, Satan laughed, and said ‘I saw that coming.’ Young Saruviel handed the console to his father, said ‘You figure out the end of level challenge, then. It’s too hard for me.’

And thus an addiction to video games, which had been a heck of a long time coming, began, and Satan temporarily forgot his dreams of conquest and dark glory, as Krystabel served for the set.

Chapter Eleven

Satan had finished Crazy Rage 489, looked up the game online, found there were 12,456 games in Crazy Rage series, said ‘May as well,’ to himself, and forked over the cash to order the lot, plus a few dozen additional of the Nintendo play cubes which they were played on, and had, for the last year, been addicted to games.

Meludiel, whose life these days consisted of washing dishes, ironing shirts, concentrating on young Saruviel’s education, as his father had no concern for such things apart from his own pearls of wisdom, was content enough with her matriarchal duties.

Satan still loved her – so he claimed from time to time – but, perhaps the most extraordinary thing of all about the Lord of Evil, in the end, was that he was just like the rest of the male population, an ordinary bloke – just one of the boys.

And then, gradually, she noted that the fascination from him of bedding the twin of the Messiah had just about been complete, that he had settled back into a life of mundanity for the time being, and that she was simply expected to do as she was told and keep the beers coming, leading her to a regular Meludielesque decision – divorce the bastard and look up Daniel or David.

Satan said ‘Sure, sweetcheeks,’ signed the papers, and young Saruviel bid his mommy farewell, as she took her suitcase, arrived at Danielphon and unpacked, with Ariel sighing and saying ‘Nothing lasts forever, sweetie. You know.’ And Meludiel nodded.

* * * * *

It was Ambriel who showed up first, kissed her on the cheek, and offered her a place at his current abode. She thought it over, was going to agree, when Daniel showed up, dressed in a cowboy suit, and said ‘Come with me to Free America, and we will ride the wild horses for a while.’ She had been a few times, Melanie had raved about the place, and so she consented, and they were off, to one of the upper heavens, away from it all, a new beginning for a time, and a spirit on Daniel which changed and adapted to his new surroundings, adopting his ‘Free America’ style of doing things as he put it.

Life was good – again – and she found, then, in the eternal aeons she had been alive, and in the joy she found in her heart at this time with this particular angel Daniel – the one who had developed a crush from the earliest of moments in the life of the Realm of Eternity – that after many, many, marriages, it was Daniel usually, and sometimes Ambriel, who lit her fire, loved her the most and the deepest, and gave her joy at his stupidities for which he was well and truly famous.

And of course – as always – the sex was quite, quite good.

Chapter Twelve

Noah had an ego. A very, very, big ego. But the father of Haven Noahide Fellowship, a spiritual assembly which was, these days, starting to gain quite fugging large numbers, had every reason to be a little bit proud. He was Noah – and the continuous tithe from the head fellowship to Noah himself was making him mind bogglingly wealthy. He could build cities, nations, empires – with his cash – and had been thinking about such things recently.

Noah lived in the valley of ‘Titea’s Dream’, on the planet ‘Zanadra’, an Andorran planet. He had lived, and died, many times, going off to rests, each time going through his destiny once more, playing his role time and time again. But that was over with now – no more new lives, he was fit for the eternal. The 8^th generation was the final generation, and Noah was alive, now, forever – his memories restored – living with Titea his wife in the valley named after her, living forever.

Of course, though, Zanadra had a number of Haven Noahide Fellowships, and others of the 7 Divine Fellowships which Callodyn and Daniel had formed. And, slowly, throughout the universe, the numbers had grown, and continued to grow, apparently, endlessly so. Apparently.

His wealth, universally, was extreme – so much so, that over 130,00 planets, now, had been purchased by himself with his funds, and he had seed beyond counting, usually those of a Noahide fellowship, on planets out in the heavenlies, names only vaguely known to himself, each of them pursuing their life, each of them pursuing their destiny.

The Children of Noah – the children of the Rainbow.

And, while he did indeed have a big ego, he was reminded time and time again to stay humble about his glory, as it had been God who had given him life, it had been God who had given him his blessing, and his own efforts? Well the Torah talked much of the vanity of man’s imaginations when based on pride.

Noah was – really – happy. And he had developed routines in his circle of life – favourite things which he did, favourite words and sayings which he said. Like a glorified goldfish which swam around the fishbowl, apparently forgetting everything every few seconds, life was, for Noah, always new. He assumed, probably, that he had said the same old words to Titea time and time again, and done the same old things time and time again – the same routines, the same ways of life, the same old circle of life, walking with God through the eternal endlessly so. And he had, fortunately, mastered the worry of repetition through finding the peace of heart and mind in the best of things, his favourite things, and the circle remained pure and true, peaceful and good, and he never worried much anymore about lack of originality. A good night with Titea on the town, and a bed of pleasure for a while afterwards usually allayed even the darkest of depressing thoughts about the simplicity of it all.

Yet, still, there were new things. Still. In fact, video games from Ambriel, continuing various number sequences in some of his titles, some up to millions in their numbering, kept him going, and there always seemed to be a new twist here, or a new twist there, no matter how familiar he became with Ambriel’s style.

Yes, life still kept new and original, and then there arrived a CD in the mail from the Realm, from his daughters Melanie and Melanie, and the Morning Stars of Glory CD became his favourite album for quite some time.

Chapter Thirteen

Noah put on the CD ‘Morning Stars of Glory’, and turned it to track 3 ‘Firey Lover’. It was his favourite track on the album, and sexy number, and he and Titea had sweated on the bed, the track playing, grinding away at each other, the atmosphere electric.

Titea, as a lady, with her blonde hair, and good looks, was mainly known for one outstanding feature – her rather firm and large tits – her breasts. She was the kind of woman every man fantasized about, with her wonderful bust, her moist vagina, and with the ecstasy of oral fascination matched by no other of Noah’s lovers. And that was saying something over his many long years.

Noah was heterosexual in orientation, but in former years there had been – encounters – for want of a better word, which had resulted in some unkind, yet true, chuckles over the Rainbow flag in honour of Noah’s covenant. He was not quite as innocent as many had been led to believe in this respect.

But these days his calling and orientation in life was most definitely one of heterosexuality, and firm commitment to the marriage covenant, and that is the way God liked it, and Noah was happy enough to comply.

Noah and Titea enjoyed country music, especially the Australian brand, and his favourite album was ‘Driver’s Seat’ by Aussie female artist Tracy Killeen. He had met Tracy a number of times, and she had even visited ‘Titea’s Dream’ a number of times, performing some acoustic numbers for them on some memorable late summer rainy nights, the thunder and lightning crashing, and the world alive with passion in Noah’s heart. Noah was a sensitive man in many ways, like many of his children, and ‘Driver’s Seat’ had a song called ‘Brave’ which was his favourite song of all time. It motivated him, encouraged him, and spoke to his heart. And when Tracy was around, and pulled out her guitar and sang it for him, he was happier in life at that moment than any other thing, even sex, that he could think of. It made it all – complete. He sang country music, himself, as well, and had a number of albums on the Noahide Music label which Callodyn and Daniel ran, which he had gotten to at the resurrection, and worked hard on his dreams. They sold well, these days, especially in Noahide communities, and every now and then he would pull out the acoustic, only with plastic strings, as he hated toughening his fingers for the steel stringed ones, and strummed away, sang his songs for Titea and occasionally Naamah, and crooned his country heart away, as the coyotes they’d had imported howled in the distance, and the night crickets hummed their business. He would tour, eventually, again, one day – eventually. But mostly his music was for his own world, the world of Noah, the world of ‘Titea’s Dream’, and in that dream it was one of the virtues his life was graced with which gave it a sense of completion. He did play piano as well, and composed basic pieces, yet never wrote them down, for he was sure, after all this time, they’d been written to death by countless composers before him. Thus, in this musical life he was also happy to celebrate in his endless days, he found the fascination and love of heart and soul which countless others also did, all the more inspired by the new album of Melanie² which, after a few weeks, had led him out to the porch with his guitar, strumming away, thinking thoughts, thinking on the level of complexities in their album, and thinking he may as well have another go at it. There was nothing to lose, after all, and only a world to gain. Only a world to gain.

Chapter Fourteen

Saruviel Satan Semyaza Luciferious picked up the guitar his father had bought him, put on the CD ‘Morning Stars of Glory’ which he had purchased that morning, which was still currently number one on the charts after 7 years in the slot, and smiled as the now familiar single of the opening track played from the speakers, and he strummed along, thinking over the glory which awaited him.

‘The Devil’s Angels’ he thought to himself – a restricted band name his father owned, which ole Nick had said he could use if he wanted to. And young Saruviel had not refused him, purchased a guitar, and was starting to learn it. He would be ready to rock, as they put it, one day – ready to roll – and when the Devil’s Angels had conquered all, life would never be the same again – literally.

* * * * *

Callodyn Gabriel Daniel Daly looked at the keyboard his father, Daniel, had purchased for him a week ago. ‘Music,’ he thought to himself. ‘Should he really pursue it?’ He had been listening to ‘Morning Stars of Glory’ for the last 2 years constantly, as it had gradually risen to the top of his playlist, and its absolute excellence had become very noticeable on the music critic charts. He loved the album, now, and was ready to pursue a new dream in life, or rather, any dream, as nothing had inspired him very much anyway. So music – a band – perhaps the most normal of careers in many ways, but an exciting one none the less. He sat down at the keyboard, turned it on, put it on electric organ, and started hitting the keys, and dabbling away. He couldn’t play yet, and it was vain sounds emanating, but little steps led to great glories, so his father Daniel had taught him a number of times, and you had to start somewhere.

He listened to the CD playing in the background, tinkered away, and did not notice Daniel standing at the doorway of the apartment in Zaphon tower, watching his son, quite proud of an ambition finally being pursued.

* * * * *

Alf Lambert, for the most part, was over it. Over, finally, being a perverted, poofy, bumfucker. His wife, Haylie, or Haylee, or Hayley, or one of the endless variants she used, as she couldn’t quite remember the original spelling, was a faithful wife, good for him, pleasant in the bedroom, and blonde and delicious – the way he liked them. As a symbologist, Alf Lambert had cracked many mysteries over his long life, even had a go at Death’s ultimate challenge which Daniel had solved, and felt he had started to work it out somewhat before eventually losing interest. And then, like the others, he had died, and lived again, time and time again. And then it had been the 7^th life which had seemed the most real, the most passionate, the most which spoke to the heart of Alf Lambert, and that too had ended. And now, living in Zaphora, a most expensive place, afforded a long time ago through diligent savings, wise investments, and hard bloody work, Alf was a happy symbologist, getting good royalties for his non-fiction works on the subject, occasionally hired in Zaphora for this and that responsibility, but for the most part going through his regular routine with Hales and living the life.

He was still a member of the Church of Catholic Glory, the Lord Fletcher’s church, yet the doctrine of Quaternity had long since disappeared, and Pete mainly kept it somewhat low key, encouraged the flock to specialise in basketball in its contribution to universal society and culture, and keep on keeping on in true Fletch style. And life was good enough at that, Alf Lambert had generally concluded.

An album, though, had been on Hales playlist for ages now and while Alf, not usually much of a musical man, had not taken any real interest in it to start with, its quality was starting to become known to it through Haylies constant playing of the CD.

And then, in the newspaper, tickets to Melanie2 at the Zaphoran ‘Ultra Dome’ and, inspired, a quick purchase of the incredibly expensive items, and he knew Hales would give him good head for ages. At least he hoped so.

Chapter Fifteen

Haylie Lambert smiled at Callodyn. And then she smiled at young Saruviel. And then, saying ‘Dream on dudes. I’m married,’ she didn’t give either of them what they were after, but picked up the bass guitar, started riffing for 15 minutes, as ‘The Devil’s Angels’ did their second official Jam, hoping against hope that their famous connections would get them the slot at the ‘Ultra Dome’ opening for Melanie², despite their obvious lack of experience. But Haylie kicked ass at the bass, and they were hoping – truly – against hope for that lucky break.

‘Your dad. The Rapper. Eminem. He’s fucking huge,’ said young Saruviel.

‘Yeh,’ said Haylie, doing her best to get along with her new band and acting cool. ‘He’s a bastard, you know, deep, deep down. But even deeper than that, there is this guy who does act responsibly when he has to. I couldn’t choose another.’

‘Cool,’ said Callodyn.

They jammed for a while, Haylie noticing that the two of them were somewhat competent at their instruments despite their inexperience, and she thought long and hard about using her influence with her dad to try and secure a slot with Melanie², hopefully opening for them. They had about 3 months before the main show, just enough time to go from fucking raw to fucking ‘Maybe’, and that was the clincher in her heart in the end. ‘Maybe’. She called her dad on the mobile later that afternoon, sweet talked him as much as possible, and a week later, Melanie and Melanie saying what the hell, the good news came through, and one bass player, one keyboard player and one guitarist who doubled as the vocalist for the most part, were looking for a ‘Bloody good drummer’ in Hales own words. And then ‘Joy Gaskill’, the son of a famed Kings X drummer, a drummer himself, showed up, and the ‘Devil’s Angels’ were formed, one of the more legendary Rock and Fucking Roll outfits that ever graced the Realm of Eternity.

* * * * *

‘Dark soldiers, dressed in black. Dark soldiers, ready for the attack. Dark soldiers, ready for the kill. Dark soldiers, just for the thrill.’

The ‘Devil’s Angels’ lead singer, Saruviel Satan Semyaza Luciferious belted out the song in their live performance in front of a handful of people who had shown up to the early preview ahead of next months Melanie² live show at the Ultra Dome. They rocked, they fucking rolled, they were better than crap, but not quite cool. They were raw hard rock, and the crowd in the small park of a dozen or so people clapped along a bit, and the band felt they were hot shit by the end of their set.

‘We kick ass,’ said Callodyn.

‘Me and Joy kick ass,’ responded Haylie. ‘You guys were crap.’

‘We kicked ass,’ said young Saruviel, making the Dio devil’s symbol with his hand. ‘And you guys fucking know it.’

‘Maybe,’ said Joy. ‘But we aren’t ready yet. More fine tuning, and we’ll be ready for our first major show.’

‘And then we kick ass,’ said Callodyn, with unbridled passion, and Joy and Haylie almost smiled.

Chapter Sixteen

The crowds had gathered, and a whole host of God’s little children were at the Ultra-Dome, on the central disc of the Realm of Eternity, known as Zaphora, in the city of Zaphona which filled most of the disc, not far from Zaphon tower which occupied a central position in the Realm of Eternity, the highest monolith, now, in the universe.

Noah and Titea were there, with their Melanie² T-shirts proudly worn, ready to rock.

Daniel and Ariel were in the front row, were the noise was deafening.

Meludiel and Ambriel were back further a little, in a less noisy section, and anticipating the time of their lives.

And then the other spice girls and their partners, with Yomiel and Laquenta, were over by the side in a reserved area, chatting about this and that, waiting for the show to begin.

Backstage.

‘Fuck. Has anyone seen my sticks?’ yelled Joy.

Haylie plucked away wildly at her bass strings, keeping her eye on young Saruviel, who was drinking water, playing around with his throat, and looking fucking nervous.

Callodyn was cracking his knuckles constantly, and while she didn’t mind him warming up, she didn’t want them going to shit on her.

They looked nervous.

They’d been up all night partying.

They were partially wasted.

Young Saruviel still had a hangover.

Callodyn had not washed himself, and smelt fucking awful.

Even Joy looked fucked.

They had still only managed a half-arsed stage rehearsal.

They were ready.

‘Ladies and Gentleman. The Legend is born – the ‘Devil’s Angels.’ Are you ready to fucking Rock?’ yelled the presenter. The crowd went wild.

And the music began.

And the kids kicked ass.

* * * * *

Of course, Melanie² were the anticipated highlight of the night, but it was, in the press, the Devil’s Angels and their raw energy which got all the attention. A legend, indeed, had apparently been born. ‘A new band of monumental potential proportions’, said a Rolling Stone Review, ‘finally graced us with their presence last night. And they kicked ass.’

* * * * *

‘Upstaged by the kids,’ said Melanie C.

‘Yep,’ responded Mel B.

‘Kind of puts you off, don’t it,’ said Melanie C.

‘Yep,’ responded Mel B.

‘We wouldn’t want that to become a habit, would we,’ said Melanie C.

‘Yep,’ responded Mel B.

‘So we better start kicking ass again,’ said Melanie C.

And Melanie Brown stood up, came over to her bandsister, looked into her eyes dramatically, and said ‘Yep.’

And that was that.

* * * * *

Morning Stars of Glory had been number one for a fair long hike. But the self-titled debut live ep from the Devil’s Angels live performance at the Ultra-Dome, miraculously, broke through, and hit the top slot realm wide. The baddest ass band of the lot had arrived.

Melanie and Melanie eventually got over the embarrassment, and continued on with their tour around the major central hotspots of the Realm, becoming increasingly popular, with ‘Morning Stars of Glory’ continuing to sell like blazers. But they were no longer number one, and while the ‘Devil’s Angel’s’ miraculous breakthrough only claimed the top slot for 7 weeks, when a new entry crashed in, the legend had indeed been born.

And life – perhaps – would never be the same again.

Perhaps.

The End