The Chronicles of the Children of Destiny

The Chronicles of the

Children of Destiny

“4 Short Tales”

by Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

http://noahidebooks.angelfire.com

Dedicated to my brother Gregory Daly

Saruviel – The Quick and the Dead

35,999 SC

Saruviel examined the bullet wound. His mind analyzed quickly, countless spiritual neurons making connections with the data. The bullet was from a GHT 459. One of the deadlier types of rifles. His murderer was an expert. Only experts used that rifle. Only experts enjoyed its subtle killing power.

Seven dead, now. Seven dead in a week, and still no clues as to who. Televon Police suggested that it was likely the man in black himself. The old devil who had started up his business again. But Saruviel couldn’t picture Satan doing this. Not this time. He knew Satan now lived down in Paradision on Androma. Very close to Daly. Very close to him. They had become friends and the ‘Chronicler’ had talked to Satan about repentance. He had talked to him more seriously than most ever tried to bother doing, and Satan had felt grateful for this. Which was why he trusted Daly somewhat, living near him in the same city. Could this be the work of Satan? Could the old devil really be up to his old tricks?

The bullet was gone. The killer was not stupid – not stupid at all. Saruviel had spent the afternoon examining the crime scene, looking for clues. Every interaction from the killer with the crime scene left clues. The old Jack Dagger mysteries had taught him that well enough. But this killer left all clues absent. Totally absent. He or she was an expert – an expert of the highest caliber.

The latest victim, another of the royal house of Televon. Albert Rothchild, grandson of the king. 3 dead royals now and 4 dead senior politicians. And each untraceable, each using a different method of murder. This was the case of Saruviel’s life. He knew as much. 1,700 years in Homicide in the Zebulonian police force had trained him for this. Zebulon had never seen murders like this, of this brutality. Never. The other continents of Judea, Traxia and Androma had their fair taste of crime, certainly. Such was life. But Televon’s continent of Zebulon, home to the royal family and planetary governance seemed to have always been immune to most criminal activity. But not any more. Things had – changed. Could he crack the case? He hoped so. The hopes of Trillions were depending on him.

* * * * *

Seventeen weeks and Saruviel stood in the trees, looking at the shack. Stuck out in the nature parks wilderness, all the clues had lead him to this. He signaled the two other officers, and they slowly approached. Saruviel, treading carefully, made his way to the back of the shack. Suddenly two quick shots rang out and the officers cried in pain. ‘We’re down,’ yelled one of them. ‘Fuck!’ said Saruviel. The situation was tense.

He remembered something then which Kantriel had said to him. Had said to him about the slender grip life really had on people. ‘There are the quick and there are the dead, bro. The quick and the dead. Make sure you are not the latter.’

Saruviel knew the killer was expecting him. He knew it. So he would have to be the quick, now, and not the dead. His life perhaps depended on it. He carefully trod along the back way of the shack, gun raised, walking to the front. Carefully peering around the corner, he spied a rifle poking out the front door. The killer seemed to be looking at the shot officers. And then he made a quick connection – ‘the quick and the dead’. Instantly he turned around and went to the other side of the shack. He picked his aim, carefully gave the best of his measurement, and fired 7 quick shots into the wall of the shack. He heard a muffled yell and then silence. Complete silence.

This time he was less careful. This time he would be bold. He rushed the door, found the killer slumped, and turned him over. He was dead. He pulled the mask from off his face and looked at the killer. The one who had finally demanded One Trillion Universal credits to stop killing. Yes, it was a demon. An ancient demon. One of the fallen Oraphim of Infinity who had joined Satan. Daxran, a cold heartless bastard. Saruviel recognized his profile. But he was dead now. Dead and gone. Off to Sheol were so many of his fallen brothers and sisters now also remained. Dead and gone.

It had been a nightmare of a case, but it was over. And calling in the medics for the downed officers, Saruviel wiped the sweat from his forehead. Serving God was tough work. Bloody hard and life endangering work. But it was life, in the end. It was life. Do it God’s way, as Ambriel and Michael kept reminding him and, when all the pretenders have come and gone, you will be left standing. And that much was true to Seraphim Saruviel of the Realm of Eternity.

The End

Michael – Dungeons and Dragons

35,999 SC

Michael examined the bullet wound. It was from a gun he did not know of. That much he was certain of. But, heck, it was a bloody large universe and there were all sorts of firearms out there. Of course it didn’t make his job any easier. In no way easier at all. Stationed on New Mercury for the last 307 years, God had provoked him to action. Saruviel had been acting responsibly. Taking on man’s work. Risking his life for others – doing the real hard work in protecting society. Michael had no choice but to take it on as well. In fact, God had been expecting it of him for a while.

‘It is all about Dungeons and Dragons, Michael. All about Dungeons and Dragons’ ‘The game, you mean?’ Scaradel of the Cherubim of Eternity smiled at him. ‘Not quite that obvious, bro. We have a dragon on the loose. Of that much I am certain. And from a recent report from Televon, it looks as if the Dragon’s are busy at the moment. Quite busy. Saruviel has had his hands full. Daxran had turned evil again. Killed 9 people, before Saruviel managed to top him. And now it looks as if the Dragon’s have chosen New Mercury for their next killing spree.’ Michael nodded. That was not unlike the underworld. That was not unlike them at all. ‘And the dungeons? How does that figure in?’ Scaradel smiled. He had been a cop on New Mercury for a while now. He knew a thing or to.’ The bullet hole. I know the bullet. It is from a Santron gun – a rare make. I have come across one before in my time. And it was used by a Dragon. The thing is the Dragon’s store their guns in Dungeons, along with the rest of their supplies. Call it ancient tradition, but Dungeons suit dragons. They think it is cool.’ Michael nodded. That much sounded true. ‘So what do we do next?’ Scaradel grinned. ‘I thought that would be obvious? I mean, there are only so many dungeons on New Mercury. While the super cities go upwards forever, the planet base is quite small and fits only so many dungeons. So we go adventuring, Michael. Oh, and bring your sword and shield. We will need them.’ Michael grinned. He liked a good adventure.

* * * * *

This particular dragon was Reznak. Another of the Oraphim once in league with Satan and the Saruvim. And Reznak, while not as smart as Daxran, was just as deadly. The thrill of the chase was one thing, but when they had cornered him in his lair on the outskirts of Valluna, New Mercury’s second biggest city, they entered the dungeon of dread with great care. Funnily enough, Michael had his sword. A short dagger belted to his waste. And, of course, he carried his cops shield. He really was a fighting warrior.

A hideous laugh greeted them in the lair. ‘I see you,’ said a voice over the intercom. ‘Are you ready? Lets play.’ A grenade was then thrown, just landing in front of them. Michael and Scaradel jumped to the side just in time as it exploded, spreading shrapnel form a parked jeep everywhere. Some of it hit Michael’s legs, and the pain shocked him. But he would heal. He always did. Michael signaled for Scaradel to take one side of the lair. And he, having spotted the walkway up above, silently climbed a ladder to overlook the situation. He positioned himself halfway along the cave wall and waited. Silently he waited. He noticed Scaradel gradually moving through the maze of vehicles and equipment when Reznak jumped him, shooting him in the shoulder. Michael was quick. With one clear shot he took it and marked Reznak in the centre of his chest, the dragon collapsing instantly.’

He scurried down and carefully approached. Scaradel was breathing hard, but motioned him to check on Reznak. Michael looked at the fallen figure, and presumed him dead. But as he was about to move the body Reznak jumped at him and plunged a dagger into his side. The pain sent shudders through his body. It was agonizing. Totally agonizing. But despite the worst pain of his life, he held the dagger in place, grabbed his own with his right hand, and plunged it into Reznaks back. Reznak screamed, looked dreadingly into Michael’s eyes for one last fleeting moment, and collapsed dead on the ground.

Later on that week Michael had been released early from hospital. He had healed, to a degree, and could get back on his feet. But the flesh would take some time to repair properly. And then a scar for a few hundred years. Something to write home to Elenniel about, he thought.

He felt, then, in those few weeks, like a man. Perhaps it was bravado. Perhaps it was dumb courage. But in putting his life on the line and paying a price for it he felt as if perhaps, just perhaps, he was making his father proud of him. And it felt good in its dumb manly way. It actually felt alright.

The End

Daniel – At Arm’s Length

36,002 SC

‘Just who the hell do you think you are Rothchild? Supercop?’ ‘Worse. I’m his brother.’ The Dragon Jandox spat in the face of Daniel Rothchild, the Seraphim Daniel, laughing all the time. ‘Take him away,’ said Daniel to the lieutenant in charge in the Bronx station on New York city on the planet New Terra.

Daniel sat in his office that afternoon, brooding. It had not really been a big deal to him when God had asked Michael to take on a cop’s job. That hadn’t bothered him personally. ‘Better him than me,’ Daniel had thought. And then God had asked both him and his brother David – Ambriel – to likewise take on the work. Daniel worked in the Bronx while David was uptown in New Jersey. And while David had gained the reputation of ‘Supercop’, it was Daniel who was generally more despised by the Dragon’s. They hated Daniel Rothchild – absolutely hated him. And knowing he was at the top of a number of hit lists didn’t make him sleep any better at night.

The war was going hard now. The new war with the Dragon’s. They had, once again, rebelled. But this time it was serious. Murder had been their tactic and as such, with a full on head of Israelite Torah, Saruviel and Michael had responded to the Dragon’s war. It was death, now. Complete death. The Dragon’s knew they would not survive this war if unvictorious. Both sides knew that. The death penalty as the ultimate act had been regrettably authorized by about 20 of the inner circle of planetary systems. But to curb the new scourge of the Dragon’s war they had little choice. It was the most viscious the Dragon’s had ever become, and people worried now. They worried about their lives and what could happen to their families. And so God had chosen the Seraphim and various Cherubim to deal with the issue. It was time for them to earn their money.

Daniel was not enjoying this war. 3 Seraphim of eternity had died. 3 of his precious brothers killed by the Dragon’s. Surafel had been killed in 36,000, now resting in Sheol. And then Talzudiel followed by Adruel. Some of the most respected of all of God’s angelic children. Slaughtered at the hands of the Dragon’s of Darkness. But the Angel’s had been keeping score. They knew each dragon – they knew them all. 1,723 dedicated rebels in Satan’s key attacks from the final confrontation at Zaphon. Nearly all of the Oraphim of Infinity. Of course, they had humans in their ranks. Probably many. But the angels knew once the Dragon’s were disposed of their job would be easier. Much easier. And they had eliminated 327 of them so far – all dead. All dead and gone. Apart from the 3 Seraphim, about 70 Cherubim officers had also been killed by the Dragon’s. And their losses had been greatly lamented. But such was life David kept telling him. And such was death Daniel thought to himself.

Tonight was a key night in their campaign. They had leads – important leads as to the location of 7 key dragons, on the outskirts of Boston. They would strike tonight and, with a bit of luck, soon have to deal with 7 less of their most dreaded opponents.

* * * * *

Meludiel, stitching up the wound, smiled at her hero. She was pleased. Very pleased. ‘You did well, hon. Very well. I am proud of you,’ she said, leaning forward and kissing his forehead. 6 Dragons now dead, 4 of them by Daniel’s own hand, and the other in custody. And now his girlfriend was kissing him and stitching up the hole in his arm were the bullet had gone through. They had been close like this now for the past 3,000 or so years. Not married. Not married yet and perhaps never. ‘Supercop’, she reminded him. ‘Probably won’t marry you because of Supercop.’ But Daniel didn’t mind, in the end. It was an age long triangle. Well understood now. She would go back to him one day. He didn’t really doubt that. But she was with him for now. And they were tight as a unit, lovers and the best of friends. And with his arm being stitched up, thinking how lucky he had been that night, he was just glad he had someone to share his ordeals with. Someone to care for.

He had kept Meludiel at arm’s length recently. But for a reason. He feared his own death. But keeping her at arm’s length Daniel knew something was still true. Like David might say. If you love her you have to do the opposite. You have to hug her and kiss her. ‘Keep the bloody dragon’s at arm’s length, Dan. Not Mel.’ And Daniel had acted on those words, acknowledging them and drawing even closer to his sister. It could kill him, this war with hell, but he was not dead yet. And in the end if he did perish then keeping his beloved at arm’s length in his final days was the last thing he wanted to do. How would that end a life? How would that be glory? And so, as the war with the Dragon’s continued Daniel drew ever closer to his sister and prayed to God that somehow he would come through alive. All he could do, in the end, was pray and trust. It was simply in the hands of God.

The End

Ambriel – Supercop

36,002 SC

The bullet had just missed his head. But Supercop, as always, kept his cool. His cool demeanour, known by everyone, earning him the tag Supercop. Mild mannered David Rothchild, they all called him. And he chuckled at the comment. He peered out over the car, noticing were the Dragon was stationed. It was down to them two, stuck in a Dragon’s lair, fighting for his life. But Supercop, so all the Dragon’s knew, was practically invincible. Always a trick up his sleeve. He undid his coat, and let his wings come loose. He would use flight, right now. A tactic seldom employed by any of the angels, almost as a tribute of honour towards their human cop counterparts. But they did fly, occasionally. When the situation warranted it.

He flew to the edge of the lair, over on the right hand side. And then he pulled out a small smoke bomb and hurled it in the direction he knew the Dragon was waiting. And then, flying around the Dragon, doing a loop to his opposite side, the smoke started clearing and Supercop was behind him. He landed, tapped him on the shoulder, and the Dragon turned. He was about to go for his gun and blow David away when David let out a quick punch right between the eyes, and the Dragon fell to the ground.

‘Well done Supercop,’ David said to himself.

* * * * *

They’d had a good few weeks. 119 Dragons arrested in the local area, all awaiting the fateful day on death row. It was gruesome business Ambriel thought to himself, sentencing a soul to Sheol. But such was the penalty. An ancient Noahide law he had known once, and part of his own Israelite Torah as well. And he understood why. He understood that if they let the Dragon’s, once they had killed, get away – well then they would never stop killing. And bloodshed required vengeance. That was God’s holy law.

He thought of the war with Dragon’s this past few years. It had made him strong. So much stronger than he had ever been. For he had confronted fears greater than he had ever known. The fears of very death itself. But, like his brother Daniel, he had remained calm under pressure. He took the job seriously, applying his knowledge and skill as best he could. And, from all the commendations, New Jersey was eternally grateful. And he knew he was doing the right thing because of it.

He thought on his current girlfriend. A cherubim from eternity who he had been his first real romance after Meludiel. She was really one of his closest confidantes and she understood when Meludiel was around to make herself scarce. But David loved her anyway. She was a friend when he needed her to be there, and as much as he once hated to acknowledge the point, actually having a break from Meludiel from time to time, despite his enormous love for her, actually seemed to make sense. You just couldn’t, in the end, be surrounded by the same person indefinitely. It just couldn’t work. You needed time apart. To see other people, to make other friends, to have other lovers. And while Ambriel prized fidelity perhaps higher than any other soul, it was the wisdom his brother Valandriel so often expressed which seemed to remain the very truth in the real world. ‘Such is life,’ God said to him once on the subject. ‘Rules guide us, dear son. But reality will always have its say.’ And that consoled Ambriel somewhat.

It was hard work, now, in the life of David Rothchild. The hardest he had been involved with. The war with the Dragon’s kept him up at nights. But looking into the eternal destiny before him he seemed to instinctively understand that God would not have it any other way. Really, in the end, he would have it no other way.

The End